Daughters of England

by Philippa Carr

  “Well?” said my father.

  “Have you…told Sebastian of your wishes?”

  “He knows.”

  “And what does he say?”

  “He is happy with the arrangement.”

  That told me nothing. Sebastian would accept any proposition with equanimity. Marry Kate? he would muse. Well, it would be a solution for Lord Rosslyn, who was so eager to see one of his offspring mistress, if not master, of Rosslyn Manor. He was quite fond of Kate in his easygoing way. He would marry some day, he would suppose, so why not Kate? In any case, it was a necessity to please his benefactor, for Lord Rosslyn could as easily decide after all not to make him his heir. There were probably other remote connections of the family who would serve his purpose…I could imagine Sebastian’s reaction.

  “The wedding could be on your eighteenth birthday,” my father went on. “That would be rather a charming gesture. What do you say?”

  “I have just told you how I feel about Kirkwell Carew.”

  “Oh, no, that is just a young girl’s passing fancy. They have them now and then.”

  “I have known him for some little time. So it is hardly passing.”

  “At one time,” said my father, “I thought it would be a fair enough match. There are now possibilities at Featherston Manor. James thinks so and he also thinks Kirkwell is the one to set it in good order. It’s true that at one time I thought that he would be a fair match for you.”

  “Which was why you helped us hide him in the Devil’s Tower.”

  He nodded reminiscently. “This will be a wonderful arrangement. Kate, it is what I want more than anything. If I could see your children playing in these gardens, I think I could die happy.”

  “Please…please, do not talk like that.”

  “It’s a shock to you, is it, Kate?”

  “I can’t really believe it.”

  “Why not? It’s the most logical outcome imaginable. Why should you two not marry? Your children—my grandson—would inherit the place.”

  “When you married,” I said, “you thought your sons would inherit the place. There were no sons. You have had an unhappy marriage as a result.”

  “That was unfortunate.”

  “It is not rare. There must be many barren marriages. What if this one you are proposing were too?”

  “I cannot believe it would be.”

  “Nor could you believe yours would be.”

  “I was forced into marriage…”

  “And is that what you would do to me?”

  “Oh, come, I know you and Sebastian are the best of friends.”

  “We are good friends, but…”

  “You are thinking of Kirkwell Carew.”

  “Yes, and that I had never thought of Sebastian as a husband, nor do I suppose he thought of me as a wife until it was suggested to him.”

  “I have surprised you,” he said. “I have not chosen the right moment. It should have come gently.”

  “It is not that…though I must say it is a surprise…and a shock.”

  “You could not have cared so much for Kirkwell or there would not be all this talk of waiting.”

  I considered that. He noticed and a triumphant smile crossed his face.

  “You are really very young as yet, Kate. Look…do not say I will not do this or I will do that. We’ll agree to wait a little. To give you time to consider. You are right not to become involved too deeply at the moment. You see, you were aware of that. You had not thought of Sebastian in the light of a husband. But let me tell you, he will be one of the best. He is good-natured, kindly, affectionate and tolerant, and that last is a very good quality in a husband. You may not be passionately in love with him, but you are fond of him. He will always be your good friend and that is also a wonderful quality in a husband. See here, Kate, do not be rash. Remember how you have dealt with Kirkwell. You were unsure about him. You are unsure about Sebastian too. Leave it for a while. Just think of Sebastian. Think of being mistress of Rosslyn Manor, which will be rather different from Featherston Manor. Oh, I know you will thrust all that aside. You will not marry for position, but for love. Very charming and romantic—and pleasant too, I will admit—but think of it, Kate. This house, with years of history behind it. Your children will be heirs to Rosslyn. Kate, think of it. And think too of the pleasure you will give to a weary old man because his dearest wish is granted.”

  “I did not think you regarded yourself as a weary old man,” I said.

  He laughed and said: “Kate, please…because it means so much to me, will you think about it? Let us wait.”

  I could only say that I would.

  Rebellion

  I COULD NOT FEEL the same towards Sebastian after that. I found myself watching him, thinking of him as my husband, spending my life with him. And not far away would be Kirkwell, whom I had half promised to marry instead.

  Of course I could not marry Sebastian. Of course it must be Kirkwell—serious Kirkwell, who had worked so hard to restore his family home, who cared deeply about the future of the country, who loved me with a devotion which had begun soon after our first meeting and would last throughout our lives.

  But on the other hand there was Sebastian, who was a kindly, even-tempered, calm and contented man, seeking a comfortable life and letting all discomforts flow past him, because he refused to notice them. I liked him very much, and I often wondered whether, but for Kirkwell, I might have become accustomed to the idea of marrying him.

  He seemed to be more often in my company and I thought that it was because my father had told him of his wishes. The role of Lord Rosslyn of Rosslyn Manor would suit Sebastian well. He did not often refer to his home before he came to Rosslyn Manor, but I imagined it was in some decaying mansion whose upkeep caused concern to his impoverished father. Then came this golden opportunity, to go to Rosslyn Manor as heir because of this distant family connection to the powerful Lord Rosslyn, who was childless apart from those he had acquired outside matrimony. Of course Sebastian seized what was offered with alacrity: it was just the sort of life to appeal to him. And now, to please his benefactor, he was to marry a girl who was not too distasteful to him and whom he liked well enough. It would be an ideal arrangement, especially when the much-desired offspring appeared and the satisfied benefactor could look through his window and say: It has worked, just as I planned.

  Oh, yes, Sebastian would be very ready to go along with that.

  Christmas had come and we were in the New Year. It was cold and blustery.

  Life still seemed a little unreal to me. My father watched me closely and I was always afraid that he was going to tell me his patience was running out and that he wanted to announce my engagement to Sebastian without any more delay.

  Sebastian said nothing to me of marriage. I believed that my father had told him to wait.

  When I saw Kirkwell I felt uneasy. He noticed and thought my mood was due to the fact that I was unsure.

  He was not very happy, I knew, and I was desperately sorry about that. But I felt bewildered by my father’s revelation of his plans, and I could not bring myself to discuss the whole matter with anyone, not even Christobel.

  I went for short rides alone. I missed riding with Christobel. The baby was not due for a long time yet, but she was taking extreme care.

  One day, returning to the stables after my ride, I met Luke. He told me he had been with James. He was very absorbed in something on the estate. James was explaining it all to him.

  Poor Luke, with his dreams of one day inheriting the estate. I wondered what he would say if he knew of my father’s plans for Sebastian and me. That would surely be a death knell to all his hopes.

  Was Luke doomed to be disappointed all his life? And my poor father, I feared he would be disappointed too.

  What wild plans these ambitious men could make. How could Luke believe that he would ever inherit Rosslyn Manor? How could my father believe I would ever marry Sebastian when I was almost certain that my husband
would be Kirkwell? Of course, my father might well give Luke a small estate of his own. Sebastian would marry and perhaps my father would see his children playing in the gardens, but they would not be as close to him as he had wanted. But it would not be Rosslyn Manor for Luke, and it would not be my father’s grandchildren there either.

  It was dusk, which came early on these wintry afternoons, and as we approached Rosslyn Manor I saw a faint red glow in the sky. And then I detected a whiff of burning…and I saw smoke coming from one of the windows in the tower.

  “It’s a fire!” I cried.

  Luke murmured: “God in Heaven preserve us, so it is.”

  Then we were running towards the house with all speed.

  The fire was in that part of the house which I had never visited, Lady Rosslyn’s apartments.

  “Give the alarm at once,” cried Luke, and ran on ahead of me.

  It seemed that the fire had already been detected, for several of the servants were assembled in passages, shouting to each other. They were carrying buckets of water which would surely not be very effective if the fire had got a hold as, from what we had seen outside, it seemed it had.

  Luke had gone on ahead. This part of the Manor was very like that which I inhabited, built to the same pattern, so it was not as strange to me as it might have been.

  I pushed my way forward. Then I saw Margaret Galloway. She was crying wildly.

  “My lady…she is in there. I cannot lift her…I cannot get her out. She cannot move.”

  A door was open and, looking into the room, I saw a curtain of flames.

  “She is in her bed…I cannot move her,” sobbed Margaret.

  It was unbelievably hot and I found breathing difficult.

  Several of the men were trying to beat out the flames and there were others throwing water over them. Some were carrying tubs of water up to the room.

  Then I saw Luke. His face was blackened, his hair singed, but in his arms he was carrying someone.

  Margaret Galloway cried: “Oh, praise the Lord. He has brought her out.”

  Luke was a hero. He had acted with selfless bravery. Lady Rosslyn had been in her bed, unable to move. Her bedcurtains were aflame. A few more moments and she would have been past helping. But Luke had reached her in time. He had rushed into the room and through the burning curtains with such speed that he had emerged with Lady Rosslyn in his arms with only singed hair and a few burns on his hands.

  I thought afterwards how ironical it was that the one person whose presence in the manor house she had so resented had saved her life.

  Both she and Luke had suffered minor burns. Luke’s hair and eyebrows were singed. He looked unlike himself and his hands were painful. However, there were several of the servants with worse burns. One of the women on the estate was very skillful with lotions and unguents and was able to give immediate attention to those who had been burned, which saved them from being as bad as they might have been.

  The fire was quickly put out. It was not the first fire the house had suffered during the centuries and the thick stone walls were almost impervious even to fire. This one had been confined to Lady Rosslyn’s quarters and would certainly have been fatal to her had not Luke been able to bring her out.

  No one knew how the fire had been started. Candles would have been lighted. There was a blustering wind outside. Perhaps a draught from an open door had sent a curtain fluttering into the candle flame. Who could say?

  It was about a week or so after the fire, when I came back from one of my rides over to Christobel, that I saw Margaret Galloway. I had the feeling that she had been waiting for me.

  She seemed rather embarrassed, and she said quickly: “Lady Rosslyn is better today. It was a terrible experience for her. Imagine her…lying there…helpless, with the fire all around her.”

  “Poor lady. It must have been horrifying.”

  “She would like you and your brother to come to see her, if you will. She wants you to know how grateful she is.”

  I felt a glow of pleasure. I knew she had resented us bitterly and I could understand it. This was quite a change of attitude. Understandable, of course. One cannot go on hating someone who has saved one’s life.

  I said we should be glad to go and see Lady Rosslyn.

  “It was a terrible shock for her,” said Margaret Galloway. “It was not until it was burning fiercely that I knew what was happening. It was too late to stop it.”

  “Everyone seems to have acted promptly and so saved a real disaster.”

  “But our apartments are unusable. We have other ones now. The maid will show you if you and your brother will come.”

  I said: “Francine was all right, was she?”

  Margaret said: “Oh yes.”

  “It must have been alarming for her.”

  “Was it not for us all? Her ladyship is usually at her best in the afternoons.”

  “When my brother comes in, I will tell him.”

  And so Luke and I went to Lady Rosslyn’s apartment.

  She was in her bed, propped up with pillows.

  She looked at us appealingly. Luke went to her and took the hand which she held towards us. He kissed it gallantly and she smiled, and her lips moved.

  Margaret, who was standing by the bed, said: “She is saying ‘Thank you.’ She is telling you she is grateful to you for saving her life.”

  “I am so pleased to have been able to do so,” said Luke.

  “She wants you to know that she is sorry…”

  Luke said: “There is no need to be.”

  “She thinks that she may have offended you.”

  “I fear that I may have offended her.”

  “She wants to say that it was just that she was wrong to blame you, and your noble action has made her ashamed.”

  “Please,” said Luke. “All that must be forgotten. That is how I feel and I know my sister does too.”

  “Yes, yes,” I said.

  Her lips lifted at one side and she nodded. She could hear what was said, Margaret Galloway told us, although she could not reply.

  “I trust,” said Luke, “that you have recovered from the shock?”

  She nodded again. Her face, slightly distorted, yet had a softness which I was sure had not been there before when she had contemplated us.

  I was deeply touched and thought what an extraordinary turn of fate it was that Luke, whom she had so bitterly resented—even more than she did me, a mere girl—should have been the one to save her life.

  However, I felt happier at Rosslyn Manor than I had for a long time and I knew it was the same with Luke.

  It was February, cold and bleak, when the news came.

  The King had had a seizure and a few days after it he had died.

  That which we had all feared had come upon us.

  We waited for what would happen. For so long we had anticipated this and now it had come it was something of an anticlimax. We had a new King, James, who, it had often been said, would never be accepted since the English could never allow a Catholic to occupy the throne again.

  My father left for London and we had to rely on news from travelers arriving or when someone had heard something from someone else. It was mostly hearsay. It seemed that the fears we had had were unfounded, and although there was grieving for a much-loved King, his brother was accepted as the true heir to the throne in the usual manner. Wine was distributed in the streets, that the people might drink the health of King James, and the King had made a speech to the Council assuring them that he would follow his brother’s example, especially in his clemency and—what was most significant—support the government in Church and State as by law established.

  When they heard of this speech, the people’s fears were slightly allayed.

  Alas, James could not, it appeared, keep to this promise, and, a few days after his accession, he heard Mass openly in the Queen’s Chapel.

  We waited in trepidation, but this seemed to pass over and there were no more rumors of his m
isdemeanors.

  My father came back from London and I expected him to mention the fact that my eighteenth birthday was not far away, and to remind me of his wishes concerning Sebastian.

  However, he did not. I think he was really concerned about the political situation. The trouble with these internal conflicts was that it involved people taking sides, and who was to know which side was going to be the winning one. The Civil War between the King and Parliament was too recent for anyone to contemplate such a conflict without some misgivings.

  I was glad that the matter of Sebastian was not raised again.

  I had been thinking quite a lot about him and seemed to find myself more frequently in his company. I reminded myself often that he would be seeing me in much the same way as I saw him—assessing me, thinking of me as a possible wife. Yet he gave no sign of this. He was just as calm and friendly as he had ever been.

  There were great discussions when we all met, usually in Christobel’s house because she liked to be with us and was growing a little unwieldy now.

  I could not help being rather glad of the state of affairs and the anxiety which had made my matrimonial plans seem temporarily of secondary importance.

  When the King and Queen were crowned according to the Protestant ritual, it was thought that James intended to accept the authorized religion of the country for the sake of a crown, and that he had abandoned his attempt to introduce Catholicism again.

  It was early in June, my eighteenth birthday was approaching, and I was sure that my father was contemplating bringing up the subject of my marriage. However, at this point, news came which made everything else sink into insignificance.

  The Duke of Monmouth had come out of exile. He had landed at Lyme in Dorsetshire, not very far from our home. He had brought with him only one hundred and fifty followers and arms for five thousand more. He immediately published a declaration against the King, charging him with attempting to introduce Popery to England and saying that he, Monmouth, had come to claim the throne and set a Protestant King upon it—himself.