Jennet was present and suddenly the woman asked her when she was expecting.
Jennet blushed scarlet. I looked at her in astonishment. Now that I knew it seemed clear, but she had certainly successfully hidden it from us.
Jennet said she thought she was five months gone. The woman prodded her and said she would examine her. They went off together into the room leading from Honey’s where Jennet slept.
“I’m not surprised,” said Honey. “It had to happen sooner or later. It will be Alfonso’s.”
“I thought at first it might have been Rackell’s. What a strange affair that was. I’ll swear she has scarce been near him since we left.”
“She couldn’t bear him after Alfonso.”
“I think Jennet would be able to bear any man rather than none.”
“You are often a little hard on her, Catharine. It can hardly be called her fault if that Spanish sailor has got her with child.”
“I don’t think she was very reluctant.”
“It would have been no good if she had been. She submitted, that was all.”
“With a very good grace.”
I began to laugh suddenly. “The three of us, Honey … think of it! All to have children. For I shall soon be in like case, I doubt not. And I am the only one who has had a child forced on me. How does one feel, I wonder, toward one’s bastard when rape has been the cause of his arrival? Of course it was a very courteous rape. I never thought it would be like that.” I started to laugh and suddenly the tears were on my cheeks. “I’m crying,” I said, “for the first time. I’m sorry for myself. There is so much hate in me, Honey … for him and for Jake Pennlyon. Between them they have done this. But for them I should be at home in the Abbey with my mother.”
I covered my face with my hands and Honey was soothing me.
“It was to have been so different. The way Carey and I planned our life together. It was going to be so wonderful.”
“The things we plan rarely happen as we plan them, Catharine.”
Her face was sad and wistful and I thought of Edward, her kind husband, lying in his own blood on the cobbles.
“What is going to become of us all?” I asked.
“Only the future can tell,” she replied.
Jennet came back to us, her face flushed, a certain demureness in her expression.
Yes, she was with child.
“And knew it and kept it secret,” I accused.
“I couldn’t bring myself to tell you,” said Jennet bashfully.
“So you concealed it. You’ve been letting out your petticoats.”
“Well, the need were there, Mistress.”
“And you are five months with child.”
“’Twas six in truth, Mistress,” said Jennet.
I narrowed my eyes and looked at her.
“Why,” I said, “it was before you left England.”
“These midwives they can be mistaken, Mistress.”
I said: “Jennet, will you go to my bedroom? I have just thought of something I wanted to say to you.”
She went out and left us.
Honey was saying what a relief it was to know that the midwife was near. I let her go on talking. I was thinking of what I would say to Jennet.
Jennet looked at me shamefaced.
“The truth, Jennet,” I said.
“Oh, Mistress, you know.”
I was not sure, but I said: “Don’t think you can deceive me, Jennet.”
“I knew it’ud come out,” she said distressed. “But he were such a man. Why, not even Alfonso…”
I took her by the shoulders and looked into her face. “Go on, Jennet,” I commanded.
“’Tis his all right,” she murmured. “No mistake ’tis his. I wonder if my son ’ull be another like the Captain.”
“Captain Jake Pennlyon, of course.” I spoke of him as I would speak of a loathsome snake.
“Mistress, there were no saying no to him. He wouldn’t take it. He were the master and who could say him nay?”
“Not you, Jennet,” I said angrily.
“No, Mistress. You see he’d had his eye on me, and I knew ’twould come sooner or later. And I was helpless like. ’Twouldn’t have been no good, so I said what’s to be will be.”
“As you did with Alfonso. You’d never be the victim of rape, Jennet. You’d be only too eager to submit. That was it, wasn’t it?”
She did not answer. She kept her eyes downcast and once again I was amazed by her innocent looks.
“When?” I demanded. For some reason I wanted to know in detail. I told myself I hated what had happened but I had to know.
“’Twas on the night of the betrothal, Mistress. Oh, I was not to blame. I was took like … in place of you, it were.”
“What nonsense you are talking, Jennet.”
“Well, Mistress, ’twas the betrothal and I came to your room though I’d heard you say you were spending the night with the mistress, for he’d ridden over with you. I went in. The window was open wide and as I closed the door he stepped out from behind it and caught me. I was holding a candle and it dropped to the ground and went out. Then I heard him laugh.”
She giggled a little and I shook her and said: “Go on.”
“He took my chin in his hand and jerked my face up; he was roughlike. He were always roughlike in his ways. He said: ‘So it’s you. Where’s your mistress?’ And I said, ‘She bain’t here, Master.’ He said, ‘I can see that. Where is she?’ And I said, ‘She won’t be here tonight. She be with the other mistress.’ And he got it out of me what I’d heard that because he was here and you didn’t trust him to stay away you were staying with the mistress. He was angry and I was frightened. He cursed and swore and it was against you. He was wanting you, Mistress, bad he was. He was wild he were because when he’d heard my footsteps he’d thought they were yours.”
I laughed aloud. “So he was cheated, was he?”
“He reckoned so. And he was angry. And I said I’d go and tell you he were here and he said: ‘You little fool, do you think that will bring her?’ And I believe he was in two minds to come and get you. But even he couldn’t do that in his neighbor’s house, could he? So he made me stay and he said, ‘We’ll make believe, Jennet. You’ll be your mistress tonight.’ And then it happened, Mistress. I was powerless. There never was such a time.”
“In my bed!”
“I’d meant to straighten up, Mistress. But there weren’t time. He went at dawn; and I fell into such a sleep. Well, Mistress, it had been such a night … and when I woke it was late and I went to my room to get myself looking shipshape like … and by the time I came back you’d seen the room and the bed and…”
“The scene of your triumph, Jennet.”
“What’s that, Mistress?”
“And because of that he got you with child.”
She was again bashful. “There were other times. When you had the sweat he used to come over … and he’d command me to go to Lyon Court, he would.”
“And you did of course.”
“I dursn’t disobey him.”
“Jennet,” I said, “you are a false servant. This is the second time you have betrayed me.”
“I wouldn’t have, Mistress. It was just that it were beyond my power.”
“From him to Alfonso and I’ll warrant you sneak into someone’s bed in this place!”
“’Tis into the stables, Mistress. One of the grooms.”
“Spare me your disgusting details.” I kept thinking of Jake Pennlyon waiting in that room for me and taking Jennet. And I thought of the similarity of my own affair with Felipe Gonzáles, who pretended that the woman he visited each night was Isabella instead of me.
“And it did not occur to you that because of your lust you might bring some unfortunate infant into the world?”
“Oh, it did, Mistress, but then Sir Penn have had many such, but he always looked after ’em. They always had a good place somewhere and I said to myself ’twill be the same
with Captain Jake.”
“You were mistaken.”
“It changed, though, Mistress. Who could have known that we’d be on the high seas and in this place? Who could have foretold that?”
She stood before me forlorn, yet her eyes were alight with the memories of her liaison with that man.
I wondered why I had failed to notice that she was pregnant. It seemed so obvious now.
Jake Pennlyon, I thought. Everything comes back to Jake Pennlyon. I wished that I could shut out from my mind memories of him and Jennet together.
I said: “Get out of my sight. You disgust me.”
She crept away.
I hated Jake Pennlyon. I hated Felipe Gonzáles. I hated my father and Kate for spoiling my life. So much hatred was like a sickness of the body. There was a tight feeling in my throat which was like a pain; I wanted to relieve it which I could only do by taking some action. I wanted revenge chiefly on Jake Pennlyon; but he was out of my reach. By comparison I almost felt a sympathy for Felipe Gonzáles. At least he was revenging himself on Jake Pennlyon. A feeble revenge perhaps. He did not understand that Jake was a different kind of man from himself. Jake could content himself with Jennet when he could not get me. Jake would never understand the devotion Felipe felt for his Isabella.
But I hated Felipe for humiliating me and I hated him for not desiring me, for forcing himself to do what he did and tricking me out so that he could delude himself into thinking I was Isabella.
Everything came back to Jake Pennlyon; but he was out of my reach and I could not revenge myself on him.
I wanted to hurt someone. To beat Jennet was of no avail. Besides, she was pregnant and I had no wish to harm an innocent child even though it was the fruit of Jake Pennlyon’s lust. I thought of Felipe and wondering about this strange, silent man took my thoughts from my bedroom in Trewynd and Jake Pennlyon’s waiting there behind the door to seize Jennet.
I began to consider those dark nights when Felipe Gonzáles came to me. I would not admit it, but they no longer shocked me. I had become accustomed to his visits. I received him passively and since I had seen Isabella my sympathy for him had grown.
But a desire began to grow in me—perhaps I wished for my revenge on him, perhaps my feminine vanity was affronted. I was not sure, but I began to think of him more than I had and my attitude toward him was changing.
Once when he came in I pretended to be asleep. I lay quite still. The room was always dark, but there was faint light from a crescent moon and the brilliant stars. I kept my eyes closed, but I was aware of his standing by the bed looking at me.
He always left his candle outside the door. I fancied that he was ashamed and did not wish to be embarrassed by the light.
Still keeping my eyes closed, I felt him get into the bed. I lay still. I knew that he was watching me. On impulse I put out a hand and touched his face. I let my fingers linger on his lips and I could swear he kissed them.
I made no sign. I just lay there as though sleeping. He watched me for some minutes. Then silently he went away.
I lay listening to his receding footsteps. My heart was beating wildly. I felt a certain exultation. Our relationship was beginning to change. Faint stirrings of a desire was in me—not for love but for revenge.
Honey’s time was near and the midwife came to settle in.
I went to Felipe’s escritorio ostensibly to thank him for what he had done for Honey, but in fact to speak to him and see if I could sense any change in his attitude toward me.
He had returned on other nights, but not every night. I would never know when he was coming and would lie awake listening for his steps. I was angry when he came and angry when he did not. I could not understand myself.
He rose from his desk as I entered and stood courteously.
Then he indicated a chair.
I sat down. “I have come to thank you. The midwife is here. My sister will have need of her shortly.”
He bowed his head.
“It is good of you to treat us as human beings.” I injected a little sarcasm into my voice, but he did not seem to notice it.
“It is no fault of hers that she is here. Certainly she must have attention. She will bring a good Catholic into the world.”
“I have a strong suspicion that I am with child.”
“Suspicion is not enough. I must have certainty.”
“How soon shall I leave when it is known?”
“That is a matter which will have my consideration. Your sister will not wish to travel for a while. Your maid, I hear, is also soon to give birth.”
I was not going to tell him who the father of Jennet’s child was.
I said: “She was raped by one of your sailors.”
“That is deplorable,” he said.
He half rose in his chair, the gesture of dismissal.
I went on: “We are kept as prisoners here. Are you afraid that we will find our way to the coast and swim home?”
“There is no reason why you should be kept prisoners. Once you are with child you will have more freedom. You are kept in seclusion because the child must be of my giving.”
I flushed hotly. “And you think I am a woman to take lovers here and there from your Spaniards of La Laguna? You are offensive, sir.”
“I ask your pardon. I meant no such thing. Your serving woman was taken against her will. There is a strangeness about you … a foreign look … which might put you in danger. I might not be at hand to protect you.”
“I trust soon that I shall be beyond your protection.”
“You cannot wish for that more than I do.”
I thought of his coming to me and how he had watched me and how he responded when I laid my fingers on his lips.
I had imagined the whole thing. There was no moving this strange silent man.
Honey had a long labor and it was day and night before her child was born—a puny girl, small but living.
It was not to be wondered at after all she had endured.
She lay back in her bed, looking unbelievably beautiful with her dark hair flowing loose and the maternal look in her lovely violet eyes.
She said: “I shall call her Edwina. It’s the nearest to Edward. What do you think of that, Catharine?”
I liked the name, but I was so relieved that Honey had come through the ordeal safely that anything would have sounded good. There had been times when I had begun to fear for her and then I realized how much she meant to me. I had gone over our childhood together in the Abbey and wondered what my mother was doing and whether she was thinking of us—her two daughters lost to the Spaniards.
The baby occupied our time and our thoughts. Its arrival was a turning point, I think. I had to rejoice when I looked at those miniature fingers and toes, and the child became the center of our lives. We ceased to think of revenge and home while we asked ourselves how much the baby had grown since yesterday.
A week or so after the birth of Edwina I was sure that I was pregnant.
Triumphantly, I faced him in the escritorio.
“There is no doubt,” I said. “I have seen the midwife. Your unpleasant duty is finished.”
He lowered his head.
“Now is the time for us to return home.”
“You shall do so at a convenient time.”
“You said this is all you wanted of me. You have defiled me, humiliated me, impregnated me with your seed. Is that not enough? Am I not free now?”
“You are free,” he said.
“Then I wish to go home.”
“You will need a ship.”
“You have ships. You sent for me, now take me home.”
“There is no ship in the harbor at this time.”
“Yet you sent the galleon.”
“It was convenient to do so.”
“Then pray find it convenient to keep your bargain.”
“I made no bargain with you. I made a vow to the saints.”
“You have promised that I shall go home.”
I stood up. “So when a ship comes, I shall go?”
“It shall be arranged,” he said. “But I want to be sure that there is a child.”
“He never saw his. Why should you see yours? Is that in the vow?”
“His child was born,” he said. “I must be sure that mine is.”
“You have not gained your revenge completely,” I said. “I am not as Isabella. You have insulted and humiliated me, but you have not robbed me of my reason. Your revenge is incomplete.”
“You will have this child,” he said. “You will not leave this island until that child is born. I will make sure that there is a child and then you shall be taken back.”
I walked out of the escritorio. I thought: He said that I might leave when I was with child. But he does not wish me to go. I laughed exultantly and I thought: He is vulnerable. When I can discover how vulnerable I can have my revenge.
Revenge is sweet, there is no doubt. It gives one a reason for living when life becomes too tragic.
I was beginning to understand Felipe.
Our lives had undergone a change; it was due mainly to the fact that he no longer came to me; I felt as though I was in complete possession of myself again. And the fact that there was a baby in the household was not without its effect.
A certain normality had come upon us. Strangely enough we had settled down, which was something I now and then marveled at. But such is human nature that it can become accustomed to anything however extraordinary. One adjusts oneself—or at least we seemed to.
I now had the bedroom to myself—and a pleasant room it was. Since it was no longer the scene of my nightly humiliation my feelings changed toward it. I could enjoy the tasteful, yet somber decorations: the tapestry which hung on one of the walls; the heavy arras which shut out the light; the arch with the curtains across it which led to the toilet room with its sunken bath. There was an Eastern touch about it and I learned later that Felipe’s family had lived in that part of Spain which was dominated by the Moorish influence.
Lion Triumphant Page 18
