His eyes lighted up. I wondered how much he understood of me.
As we went out together he said: “So we have escaped the dragon.”
“Honey is no dragon. She is merely observing the laws of propriety.”
“Laws of nonsense!” he said. “You and I are as good as married. ’Tis not as though I’d tumble you in the grass, get you with child and leave you.”
“In accordance I suppose with your usual practice.”
“’Tis a well-worn practice. But curb your jealousy. When I have you I’ll be content.”
“I doubt that.”
“The contentment?”
“I was thinking of the other.”
“Not trying to evade your responsibilities, I trust. It would go ill with you and yours if you did.”
“You are a cruel, ruthless man. You are a blackmailer, a rapist, you are all that good and honest men … and women … despise.”
“You are wrong. The men seek to emulate me; as for the women there are dozens of them who’d give ten years of their lives to be in your place.”
I laughed at him. “A braggart too.”
“You please me,” he said.
“I’m sorry for that.”
“Yes,” he went on, “you please me as I please you.”
“Your powers of perception are nonexistent. I hate you.”
“The kind of hate you have for me is very close to love.”
“You have a great deal to learn of me.”
“And a lifetime to do it in.”
“Do not be too sure of that.”
“What, trying to evade your vows!”
“Vows … what vows? You threaten rape; you blackmail. Then you talk of vows.”
He stopped short and pulled me around to face him. I was aware of Honey at the window and felt safe.
“Look me straight in the eyes,” he said.
“I can think of pleasanter sights.”
He gripped my arm in a manner which made me gasp.
“Please, will you remember that I am unaccustomed to physical violence? You will bruise my arm. You did so when you last gripped it.”
“So I left my mark on you. That is well. Look at me.”
I gazed up haughtily into those fierce blue eyes.
“Tell me now that you are indifferent to me.”
I hesitated and he laughed triumphantly.
I said quickly: “I suppose when one despises another person as I do you that could scarcely be called indifference.”
“So you despise me? You are sure of that?”
“Absolutely sure.”
“Yet you enjoy despising me. Answer truthfully. Your heart beats faster when you see me; your eyes have a sparkle. You can’t deceive me. I will have much to teach you, my wildcat. You will find me a very good tutor.”
“As no doubt many have before.”
“You should not be jealous of them. I would give up them all for you.”
“Pray do not deny yourself. Go where you will. Continue to tutor others. All I ask is that you leave me to myself.”
“Leave the mother of my sons?”
“They have yet to be conceived.”
“A matter which causes me great impatience. Let us escape the dragon … now.”
“I see what you mean by your tutelage. You have forgotten that I am not some tavern wench or serving girl. You would have to behave very differently if you wished to impress a lady of breeding.”
“I have not of course mixed in such circles as you. You might instruct me in the manners you expect and, who knows, I might try to please you … if you pleased me.”
“I shall return to the house now,” I said. “I have walked far enough.”
“What if I decided to carry you off with me?”
“My sister is watching us. Her husband would immediately come to my rescue.”
“Why should I fear them?”
“If you wish to marry me you could not create a situation which would be so ignominious that they could not ignore it. They would decide that you were an unsuitable husband.”
“In the circumstances…”
“In any circumstances,” I replied. “In a family like ours, the indiscretion at which you hint, if it came to pass, would mean that whatever the consequences we would avenge it.”
“You’ve a sharp tongue. Marry! Methinks you could become a shrew.”
“And a tiresome encumbrance as a wife.”
“To some men, yes. For me, no. I’ll force the venom from your tongue and make it drip with honey.”
“I had no idea you could turn such phrases.”
“You have yet to discover my talents.”
“I have had enough of them this day and will return to the house.”
He gripped my fingers.
“If you and I should marry you will have to learn to handle me more gently. You all but break my fingers.”
“When we marry,” he said, “I will treat you as you merit. And that is a matter for the very near future.”
I had wrenched my hand away and started to walk toward the house.
The Pennlyons left that afternoon. “How peaceful it is,” I said to Honey, “knowing that they are not so close.”
“What shall you do, Catharine?” she asked anxiously. “You could return home. We could say that your mother was ill. While they are away is the time to go.”
“Yes,” I said, “that’s the time.”
Then I thought: If I went he would come after me. Or worse still he would betray Thomas Elders. I pictured all those who had entertained the priest being brought before a tribunal.
Edward had many rich lands; very often those who had estates to be confiscated were the ones who suffered most.
I mentioned this to Honey and she grew pale. She knew it was true.
“I’ll not run away,” I said. “I’ll stay. I’ll find some way. I swear I will. Don’t worry. It’s bad for the child.”
I knew in my heart that I was enjoying my battles with Jake Pennlyon. It gave me a kind of inverted pleasure and although there were moments when I was afraid it was the sort of fear a child experiences, a fear of goblins and witches in the woods, terrifying but irresistible.
I would stay, I said.
Three days after the Pennlyons had gone I was at my window looking out on the Hoe when immediately below in the courtyard I saw Jennet; she was walking stealthily toward the stables and there was something concealed under her apron.
Luce looked after me now—poor ill-favored Luce whose left shoulder was higher than the right and who was more than ordinarily pockmarked. I missed Jennet in a way. Luce worked well and was devoted to me; Jennet had betrayed me and so started the whole affair with Jake Pennlyon, though I supposed he would have found some other way of starting it if that had not happened. But Jennet with her fresh young face and her soft sensual lips and thick untidy hair had interested me more. I wondered how far Jake Pennlyon had gone with Jennet. He would not be one to waste time courting a servant girl, I was sure.
And what was she doing now going down to the stables? Meeting some groom? I wanted to find out, so I slipped out of the house and went out by the small door into the courtyard.
As I approached the stables I heard voices. Jennet’s rather shrill one and others in a lowered tone.
I opened the door and there they were seated on the straw. Jennet had spread a cloth and on it were pieces of lamb and mutton with half a pie. With her were Richard Rackell and a stranger.
Jennet jumped to her feet with a cry of dismay. Richard stood up and so did the other, a dark-haired man whom I guessed to be thirty or more years of age. The men bowed; Jennet stared wide-eyed and fearful.
“What is this?” I asked.
“Mistress,” began Jennet.
But Richard said: “A peddler has called with his wares, Mistress. He has traveled far and is in sore need of food. Jennet brought him something to eat from the kitchens.”