Lion Triumphant

by Philippa Carr

  I did, however, take her back with me the day after John Gregory came.

  I lectured her a little. “You will serve me, Jennet,” I reminded her. “If you ever lie to me again I shall have you beaten.”

  “Yes, Mistress,” she said demurely.

  “And you should be warned not to listen to men’s tales. They will get you with child and then what will happen to you, do you think?”

  She blushed scarlet and I said: “Remember it.” I could not bring myself to ask her for details of what had happened between her and Jake Pennlyon because I told myself it was undignified—and yet in a way I did wish to know.

  A day passed. I knew that the return of the Pennlyons could not long be delayed. The period of respite was coming to an end.

  The Pennlyons were back. One became aware of it at once. Even the servants seemed excited and the tension in Trewynd had increased. Since they had returned the presence of John Gregory in the house had become more dangerous.

  It was not long before Jake came riding over. I was expecting him and was prepared. I had told Honey that on no account must she leave us alone together.

  He sat in the hall drinking wine. Edward, Honey and myself watched him intently. He seemed bigger, more overbearing, more arrogant and sure of his ability to get what he wanted than I remembered even. I felt the surging hatred rising in me, bringing with it that wild excitement.

  The betrothal ceremony was taking place in three days’ time, he announced.

  “It’s too soon,” I said.

  “Not soon enough,” he corrected me.

  “I shall need to prepare.”

  “You’ve had all the time I’ve been away to prepare. You’ll have no longer.”

  So he was commanding me already.

  “The wedding takes place two weeks later,” he said with authority. “And I shall sail a month after that.”

  “Where will your voyage take you?” asked Edward politely.

  “We’ll be taking a cargo of cloth out to Guinea and come back we hope with gold and ivory. It won’t be a long voyage if I can help it.” He gave me his lascivious grin. “I shall be missing my wife.”

  Edward said he wished him fair weather; and they talked about the sea for a while. Jake’s eyes glowed; he talked of the sea with the same intensity that he had talked of our marriage. The sea fascinated him because it was often wild and unpredictable; he would often have to fight it with all the skill he possessed. He was a man who must fight. Always he had to subdue. Marriage with him would have to be an eternal battle, for as soon as he had won he would lose interest. But why should I contemplate marriage with him? That was for some other pitiable female. I was going to play as dangerous a game as he played on his voyages. Perhaps there was a similarity between us because I at last admitted to myself that I enjoyed the fight.

  We all went out into the courtyard with him and as we did so John Gregory came out of a side door. There was nothing to do but make the introductions.

  Jake Pennlyon’s eyes flicked over him.

  “We’ve met before,” he said.

  John Gregory looked puzzled. “I do not recall it, sir,” he answered.

  Jake narrowed his eyes as though he were trying to look into something which he couldn’t quite make out.

  “I’m sure of it,” he insisted. “I don’t easily forget faces.”

  “Were you in the North at some time?” asked Edward.

  “I never was,” said Jake. “I’ll remember. It escapes me for the moment.”

  John Gregory was wrinkling his brow, smiling as though trying to recall, but I fancied that the scar on his cheek seemed to stand out more vividly.

  “I was delighted to see my friend,” said Edward warmly. “He has decided to stay with us for a week or so.”

  Jake was now looking at me, forgetting John Gregory.

  He said: “We shall expect you early at Pennlyon. We can’t have the bride arriving late. It would appear that she was reluctant.”

  He took my hand and kissed it. His lips seemed to burn my skin. I wiped it on my gown. He saw the gesture and it amused him.

  Then he took his leave.

  We went into the house and Edward asked John Gregory: “What did he mean about knowing you?”

  “He is suspicious,” said Honey in a frightened voice.

  “You have never met him before?” asked Edward.

  John Gregory wrinkled his brows for a moment and then said very firmly: “No.”

  I dressed myself for my betrothal banquet with the utmost pains. I wished to appear as beautiful as I could for, I assured myself, the sole purpose of making him more angry than ever when he realized he had lost me.

  And after the betrothal? What should I do then? I could see no answer than but to go back to the Abbey and my mother. Would he follow me there? He had to leave on his voyage, so how could he come after me?

  And Honey and Edward, would he betray them? Surely he would have to prove that Thomas Elders had been celebrating Mass in the chapel. But Elders would be taken and mayhap tortured and then who knew what would emerge? And this man John Gregory? He would have to go away before I left. Of course this was what I must do. I certainly could not ruin my whole life because of the trouble they had brought upon themselves.

  For the moment there was the betrothal ball and banquet and I intended to amuse myself as much as I could with them.

  Jennet helped me to dress. She was better at this than Luce had been. She brushed my hair until it shone and our reflections in the polished mirror were glowing. There was color in her cheeks and her mass of hair escaped from her cap; she was not exactly a handsome girl but a very desirable one, I could see that. There was something soft and yielding about her; she would be seduced sooner or later I was sure, and I thought it was time to get her married.

  I said to her: “Do you like Richard Rackell, Jennet?”

  She blushed—she blushed very easily—and lowered her eyes.

  “You do,” I said. “There’s no need to be coy about it. If he had a fancy to you perhaps there could be a wedding. The master would mayhap give you one of the cottages and you could continue to work as you do now. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Why, yes, Mistress.”

  “You should be married … soon. I am sure of that. You are somewhat wanton, Jennet, I believe.”

  “Oh, no, Mistress. ’Tis just…”

  “’Tis just that when they lay hands on you and tell you what a fine wench you are you’d find it difficult to say them nay.”

  She giggled.

  “You silly girl! And you’re pulling my hair.”

  I wanted to say to her: What did Jake Pennlyon do when he had kissed you? Are you going to tell me that it ended with that? But I said no such thing.

  She went on brushing my hair. Was she thinking of Jake or Richard Rackell?

  I thought I would wear my hair piled high on my head and then I could crown it with the comb I had bought from the peddler.

  “Frizzing be the fashion, Mistress, and I can frizz,” said Jennet.

  “I follow my own fashions. I do not wish to look like every other fashionable woman, nor like any serving wench.”

  Resigned, Jennet dressed my hair. I put on my red velvet gown cut low at the neck and the sleeves wide and flowing almost to the hem. Not the height of fashion true, but indeed becoming, and with the comb in my hair I looked regal. I should need all the dignity I could muster to ward off the attentions of my intended bridegroom, I thought grimly.

  Jennet stared at me wide-eyed.

  “Why, Mistress, you look beautiful … too beautiful to be real.”

  “I’m real enough, Jennet,” I said with a laugh.

  She lowered her eyes and giggled. I spoke sharply to her. She knew that I was still resentful of the fact that she had sided with Jake Pennlyon against me. There was something knowing about her look. I wondered afterward whether Jennet, born to give pleasure to men, understood something of the nature of my fe
elings for this one, for try as I might to feign indifference, I was excited by him, albeit in hatred.

  Honey came in and I immediately felt insignificant. But then everyone must before Honey’s brilliance. She was dressed in blue—deep violet blue, the color of her eyes, which accentuated their brilliance. Since she had become pregnant her beauty had changed a little and lost nothing for it.

  She wore her hair about her shoulders and there was a circle of pearls about it.

  She pressed my hand and looked at me anxiously.

  “I’m all right, Honey,” I said.

  “You look quite magnificent.”

  I glanced at myself in the burnished mirror. “Like one of the Valkyries going into battle?”

  “Yes,” she said, “a little like that.”

  We were to ride to Lyon Court in the carriage. Edward’s carriage was a source of wonder to everyone, for few people possessed such a vehicle. Most must rely on horses or their own feet. It was uncomfortable riding in the carriage, which was drawn by two horses. People in Devon had never seen carriages before, but in view of the fact that we were dressed for the ball the carriage was very convenient. Otherwise, we should have had to take one of the mules to carry our gowns and ridden over and changed there.

  I whispered to Honey as we jolted along over the rough roads: “Watch over me tonight.”

  “We will,” replied Honey fervently. “Edward and I.”

  “I shall be in his house. That will give him an advantage and he’ll take it, you can be sure.”

  “You’ll outwit him.”

  “Indeed I shall and then, Honey, I think perhaps I shall have to go home.”

  “Edward and I have been talking about it. We think it is best for you. John Gregory will be leaving us and we shall be safe. He can prove nothing. Edward has influence. We shall be all right. You cannot marry to save us.”

  “Tonight though I shall play this game of pretense. He will think that he has won the battle. I will let him believe that, so that he may have the greater shock when he faces defeat.”

  “You enjoy this, Catharine. What has come over you? You were once so different.”

  “It is this man. He arouses such feeling in me that I hardly know myself.”

  “Take care, Catharine.”

  “I shall take the utmost care to prove to him how much I despise him and that he shall never govern me.”

  The carriage trundled along. Edward drove the horses and Honey and I sat behind him. Soon we were in the drive which led to Lyon Court. Under the elms we went and there was the house, lanterns on the porch lighting up the lions—gray stone and impregnable-looking in the moonlight.

  Servants hurried out. There were grooms to take our horses and marvel at the carriage.

  We were taken into the hall where the Pennlyons—father and son—were waiting to greet us.

  The hall, lit by a hundred or so candles flickering in their sconces, looked very fine. At one end a great log fire burned although we were in September and it was not chilly. The long table was laid for the banquet and so was the smaller one on a dais at one end of the hall. In the minstrels’ gallery fiddlers were playing.

  I was taken in Sir Penn’s arms and held firmly against his great body; he kissed me loudly and laughed over my head in Jake’s direction as though he were teasing him. Jake then took me from him. I drew myself away, but it was useless. I was firmly held, pressed tightly against him and his lips on mine.

  Sir Penn was laughing. “Come, Jake,” he said. “You’ll have time for that later.” He nudged Edward in the side and Edward smiled faintly. The manners of these two must have been extremely distasteful to him.

  Jake put his arm about me and swung me around. “You’ll stand with me to greet the guests.”

  People arrived from neighboring houses. They congratulated us. It was embarrassing in the extreme and I was glad when we sat at table, which was weighed down with the great pies and joints of meat. There was venison, wild fowl, tarts, marchpane fancies, sugar bread, gingerbread and every kind of food that one could think of.

  Jake Pennlyon was watching me, hoping, I knew, that I should be impressed by the quantities of food with which the table was laden. It was as though he were tempting me. See how we live! Look at our fine house! You will have a part in this. You will be mistress of it—but you will always remember who is the master.

  I looked beyond the table, for I would not let him know that I was impressed. His hand was on my thigh, burning, probing fingers. I lifted his hand and put it from me, but he then gripped mine and held it against him.

  “Your grip is too rough,” I said. “I do not wish to be covered in bruises.”

  “Did I not tell you that I would set my mark upon you?”

  “You may have said so, but I should not wish it.”

  “And I must grant your wishes, I suppose.”

  “It is customary during wooing.”

  “But we have passed the wooing stage. You are won.”

  “Indeed I am not.”

  “Why, my Cat, this is our wedding feast.”

  “My mother calls me Cat and she alone. I would not wish anyone else to use that name for me.”

  “I shall call you what I like and you are to me a cat. You scratch, but you will be ere long purring in my arms.”

  “I would not count on that if I were you.”

  “But you are not me. You are your maddening self.”

  “I am glad I exasperate you, for that is just the effect you have on me.”

  “It is a fillip to our passion.”

  “I feel no passion.”

  “You delude yourself. Come try this malmsey wine. It will put you in a mellow mood and see we have Venetian glasses. We can be as fine as our neighbors.”

  “Gracious living cannot be found in a glass. It is good manners that count.”

  “And you find me lacking in them?”

  “Deplorably so.”

  “I promise you shall find me lacking in naught else.”

  There had been food and to spare in the Abbey, but it had never been served in this way. To these people food was to be reverenced. The usher who brought in the boar’s head was preceded by one who kissed the table before laying it down and the usher, then having set the dish on the table, bowed low before it. One scullion was cuffed about the ears for standing with his back toward it. And when the sucking pig was brought in the minstrels in the gallery played and one of the servants walked solemnly before it singing of its virtues.

  We had started to eat at six and at nine of the clock we were still at table. A great deal of wine and ale had been drunk. Jake and his father had set an example to their guests and I had never seen so much food consumed.

  I was amused and elated to see that the wine was having its effect on them and I guessed that they would be easier to handle in such condition than they would be completely sober.

  The minstrels played most of the time and there was one with a pleasant voice who came down from the gallery and sang a love song standing before the table and addressing his words to me and to Jake Pennlyon.

  While the guests were eating confections of sugared spices and marchpane Jake ordered that a dance should be played, and taking me by the hand, he led me into the center of the hall.

  The others fell in behind us. Jake was not a good dancer, but he knew the steps and we circled, came back to each other and touched hands as we danced; and when the dance was over he drew me to a bench where we were a little apart from the company. He continued to grip my hand.

  “This … is what I wanted from the moment I saw you.”

  “Then your wish has been granted,” I said.

  “The first wish. There are many to come. But they are on the way. We are as good as wed. You well know that this ceremony is binding. If you wished to marry anyone else you would have to get a dispensation from the church. You are bound to me.”

  “It is not so. There has been no ceremony.”

  “We are bound to
gether. All you have to do now is accept your fate.”

  “Why do you not take someone else? There are women here tonight who would mayhap be glad to take you. You are of means obviously. You would not be a bad catch for any who fancied you.”

  “I have the one I fancy and who fancies me … why should I look beyond though she is perverse and feigns not to want me, that amused me … for a while? But I have had enough of it and I would have you show me your true feelings. I will take you around the house which will be your home. I will show you the rooms which will be at your disposal. Come now with me. We will slip away alone.”

  “We should be missed.”

  He laughed. “And if we were there would be smiles and understanding. We will have their indulgence. We are all but wed and the final ceremony will take place ere long. I want to take that comb from your hair. It has a Spanish look about it which I like not. Where did you get such a bauble?”

  “A peddler brought it in his pack. I like it.”

  “A peddler! Are they introducing plaguey Spanish fashions here now. We’ll not have that.”

  “Know this. I shall wear what I wish.”

  “Don’t tempt me or I shall take it from your hair here and now. That would shock your sister and her fine husband, I doubt not. But I’ll be discreet. Come! I will show you our marriage bed and you shall try it and tell me if it suits you. It will, Cat. I know it. Something told me from the start that you and I were made for each other.”

  He attempted to pull me to my feet, but I said: “I wish to talk to you … seriously.”

  “We have years for talking. Come with me now.”

  I said firmly: “I don’t love you. I can never love you. I am here now because of your threats. Do you think that is the way to inspire love? You know nothing of love. Oh, I doubt not that you are a past master of lust, I’ll swear that many a pirate is. He ravages towns and the women in them; he forces submission, but that is not love. Don’t ever expect love from me.”