We went into the punch room. I said: “Not here.” The punch room was approached from the dining room and there was no door to it, only a curtain over the archway.
I said: “Let us go into the chapel. Let us lock the chapel door and that which leads into the leper’s squint.”
The chapel was as normal. There was no sign that Mass had been recently celebrated.
I went to the leper’s squint and peered through into the little room beyond.
“The doors are locked,” I said. “What a pity you didn’t lock them both before Thomas Elders officiated.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Honey.
“Jake Pennlyon was in there.” I pointed to the squint. “I met him coming out. He told me that unless I agreed to marry him he would make it known that Thomas Elders was here and for what purpose.”
“My God!” said Edward suddenly.
Honey laid her hand on his arm. “What would happen to us, Edward?”
His fingers closed over hers protectively. How different he was from Jake Pennlyon! Must I compare every man with that one! He was gentle, protective, loving, tender.
“I don’t know,” said Edward. “It could be most unsafe.”
“So you promised, to save us.”
“I suppose so.”
“Catharine!”
“Don’t imagine I am going to marry him. I’ll fight him.” Again that wild exhilaration. I enjoyed fighting him. I wanted to defeat him, to laugh at him, to mock him. I had never dreamed it was possible to feel so strongly about one person. I had about Carey, of course, but that was the intensity of love—this was hatred. “I had to pretend then or he would have betrayed you. He is a wicked man. I loathe him and his father.”
“But, Catharine, there is to be this betrothal.”
“I shall make no vows. I shall fight them.”
Honey was looking at me strangely. Then she turned to Edward and clung to him.
He said: “Don’t fear, my love. They can prove nothing. We must be careful in future. I must warn Thomas. If young Pennlyon knows he may well set traps for him.”
I thought of my father then, who had brought so much unhappiness to our household because of what he had done to help a friend. Edward would be like that. He was such another as my father … born for martyrdom, which was a terrible thing to be born for in our times.
I went to my room and it was not long before Honey was there.
“Oh, Catharine, what have we all brought upon ourselves?”
She looked frail and frightened; her hand lay gently on her stomach as though she were protecting the child which was growing there.
I felt protective toward her and I said: “Don’t fret. I’ll outwit this arrogant Pennlyon.”
Her mood changed suddenly.
“Why, Catharine,” she said, “I have not seen you so animated since…”
She did not finish; and I knew she meant since I had learned that Carey was lost to me.
She was right. I had not felt so alive since then.
The next day the Pennlyons went away for a few days in connection with stores for the coming voyages. Jake Pennlyon rode over to Trewynd before they left. I saw him coming and went to Honey and made her promise not to leave me alone with him.
We received him in the hall. He embraced me in that manner which made me want to throw him from me and which made him laugh as he sensed my resistance. I think he liked it; my submission, of which he was absolutely sure, would be the more rewarding if he had to force it. He was a hunter and women to him were prey.
Honey sent for wine and we went to the punch room—the three of us together.
“I have bad news for you,” said Jake Pennlyon. “I have to leave you.”
I smiled and he went on: “Don’t despair. ’Tis but for a few days and I’ll be back. Then we’ll make up for our separation.”
“I would not wish you to cut short your business,” I said.
“I never waste time. Rest assured I’ll complete with all speed what has to be done and come back to you. I should like to walk in the gardens with you. There are matters we must discuss.”
“I will accompany you,” said Honey demurely.
“Madam, we would not disturb you.”
“’T would be a pleasure,” said Honey.
His eyes glinted. “We ask no chaperone.”
“Nevertheless, propriety does.”
“We don’t have such ceremonies here,” said Jake Pennlyon. “We’re plain country folk.”
“My sister must behave in the manner expected by her family,” said Honey.
I smiled at her. Dear Honey, she was so grateful to me for protecting her and Edward from the malice of these Pennlyons.
I said: “We will walk in the gardens and keep in sight of the windows.”
I was surprised at myself. But I did want to do battle with him—though from a safe place it was true. Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist the desire to tell him how much I disliked him.
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.”