There was a certain passion—the passion of revenge—and for me the passion of hatred. I hated him for this humiliating use of me. He had robbed me of my dignity as a human being. I was not a woman to be loved or to be hated; I was a means to give him the revenge he needed. My hatred grew when I considered that. He was trying to create a life; he would bring a child into the world to satisfy his revenge and make me the instrument of reproduction. Could anything be more humiliating than that?
Only a man of extreme arrogance could dream of using others for such a purpose. He was every bit as bad as Jake Pennlyon. I hated them both. How dared they treat women in such a way!
When this man came to me I thought of Jake Pennlyon and I could not shut out of my mind the thought of his coming to this house and finding Isabella and in my imagination I was Isabella and the man who was humiliating me was Jake Pennlyon.
I was treated with respect during the day. There were servants to wait on me. During that first week I was not allowed beyond the house. But I did see Honey. The very first day I was taken to her. I was very shocked on that day by what had happened on the previous night; and as the days passed I was shocked in another way to discover how quickly I had grown accustomed to his visits.
The first encounter had horrified me—after all, I had been a virgin and, although not ignorant of sexual relationships, had never experienced such. It was at this stage that I talked to Honey.
She had been well received and had been given a pleasant room with Jennet to act as a kind of maid to her. She was bewildered as to why we had been brought there until I told her what had happened to me.
She listened incredulously. “It is too fantastic. It can’t be true.”
“This Felipe is a vindictive man. He is cold and cruel. He would go to any lengths to gain his revenge. When I carry his child we shall be taken back to England … and not till then.”
“So it was all planned.”
“What sort of mind would make such a plan? You can guess the sort of man he is. An eye for an eye. He has to pay back in exactly the same manner. It is Jake Pennlyon who has ruined my life, Honey. I knew it from the moment I saw him.”
“His young wife taken like that! It’s horrible, Catharine.”
“What became of her I don’t know. All I know is that he must have been heartbroken when he came back and found her … a child of fifteen, think of that, Honey; and Jake Pennlyon.”
Then I began to laugh hysterically. “I have been raped. As surely as anyone I have been violated, and in this most courteous manner.” I covered my face with my hands.
Honey shook me. “Don’t, Catharine,” she said. “Don’t laugh like that. It’s happened. Let us think on from there. This man…”
“He will visit me each night. He has said so. Oh Honey, when I think of it…”
“Don’t think of it. It is happening and nothing can change it. We are prisoners here and we know now for what purpose. At least he has not ill-treated you.”
“He has only misused my body,” I said fiercely.
“Catharine, we have come through violent adventures. This has happened. Edward is dead. My baby will soon be born. We are far from home. This man has taken you against your will, but not roughly as he might well have done.”
“As Jake Pennlyon must have taken Isabella. But perhaps she had a chance of passivity or the consequences. I chose passivity. I wish I’d fought him now.”
Honey said: “Be calm. Let us wait and see what happens. We don’t know from one moment to another. This man has had his will of you. It has happened to girls before. Let us try to bear what is in store for us.”
All that day I was with Honey and I could not get out of my mind what had happened to me. I thought of it all day—myself and this cold strange man—Isabella and Jake Pennlyon. And the evening came and Maria came for me and I bathed and was anointed with the perfumed oil—he was such a fastidious gentleman—and again that night he came to me.
Everyone in the household knew I was the Governor’s mistress. He did not wish to see me during the days, but at night he visited me. He did not stay. His visits were brief—only long enough to achieve the purpose.
I was treated with respect. So was Honey. The hushed household was far more comfortable than the galleon and Honey was getting to the stage when she needed comfort. Jennet slipped into the new life with ease; she mourned Alfonso for a day or so, but I knew it would not be long before she took up with someone. There were menservants and I had seen the looks that came her way. Such looks would always come Jennet’s way.
I was too deeply concerned with myself to think much of them during that first week. Often I could not believe that it was truly happening. I must wake up and find it all a dream—from the night the galleon had been in the bay and the men had called.
Then what astonished me was that I was beginning to accept everything. The quiet daily life; the house; the beautiful gardens with flowers such as we did not grow in England; the warmth of the sun; the fruits growing in the enclosed gardens. We were free to walk about, but there were guards at the gate who prevented us leaving the house and the gardens. There was a sewing room in which were frames and canvases to be embroidered. Honey was allowed to make clothes, but I was not. I was to draw what I wanted from the cupboards in the bedroom. Clothes were put there for me to choose from. I was allowed freedom in that. They were beautiful clothes, feminine clothes, and most of them were scented with the perfume of the oil which Maria rubbed into me at the end of each day.
Where did these clothes come from? I demanded to know. But Maria only shook her head.
I saw him now and then. He would ride out on a fine white horse. He looked magnificent mounted. He would often be away the whole day, but he always came back at night. He always came into my bedroom at the appointed time and rarely did he speak to me.
My moods varied—sometimes I would try to convey to him my contempt for a man who could behave so, sometimes I wanted him to know how I hated him. I wanted to shout: “Get me with child quickly that I may be rid of you.” At others: “I will be barren to spite you. What then, my revengeful lord?”
But I never spoke either and so that first strange week passed.
I had ceased to look for the ship on the horizon. I had accepted my fate. I had fought for myself and lost. I had been taken, ill-used; and I began to wonder how I could take my revenge on men such as Don Felipe and Jake Pennlyon, who believed that women were there for their pleasure whether it be to satisfy lust or revenge, it mattered not.
I hated Don Felipe Gonzáles as I had hated Jake Pennlyon.
We had made a kind of pattern of our days, Honey and I. It was March of the year 1560, and her baby was due in a few weeks’ time. I suppose impending childbirth makes everything else seem insignificant. Honey’s thoughts were all for the child. She was constantly making clothes from the materials she found in the sewing room. I was not much use with my needle, but I improved a little during those first days merely because I had to do something. I used to wonder that in a house such as this one there should be a sewing room; Honey took it for granted and was grateful for it. I supposed that these rooms had been prepared for the bride Isabella. Had she ever used them?
I would sit making idle speculations, but Honey scarcely listened; she was absorbed by her child.
It was a week after we had arrived at the Hacienda that we ventured into the Casa Azul. This was a small house standing in the grounds surrounded by a high wall. We had seen it from a distance and wondered what it was and on this particular morning I made up my mind to find out.
I insisted on Honey’s accompanying me and when she saw that I was leading her to the Casa Azul she wanted to turn back.
“Why?” I demanded.
“There is something repellent about it.”
“You are fanciful.”
“I don’t want to do anything that would harm the child.”