I was also angry that I, so desired by Jake Pennlyon and others, should have to be tricked out as someone else before this man could be sufficiently aroused to carry out his purpose. It was a vain and stupid emotion, I suppose, but I felt it.
I had to see him and it was a fact that I was anxious about Honey.
He was seated at a table with papers before him. He rose as I entered.
“I gave orders that no one was to disturb me,” he said.
“I have to see you,” I replied. “There is something of importance that I must say to you.”
He bowed again—always courteous. I was glad of the darkened room. I felt embarrassed; I could have sworn he did too. Here we were two strangers by day but who by night shared the ultimate intimacy.
I said: “I have come to see you on behalf of my sister.”
He looked relieved. I sat down and he resumed his seat.
“As you know she is shortly to have a child. At any moment her time may come. I should like to know what can be done for her.”
“We have many servants,” he said.
“She will need a midwife.”
“There is a midwife in La Laguna.”
“Then she must be brought here. It was no fault of my sister’s that she was taken away.”
He conceded this. “Nor of any of us,” I went on angrily, hating his cold manner and thinking of his deluding himself that I was Isabella. “We have been dragged from our home to suit your evil purpose.”
He held up his hand. “Enough,” he said. “The midwife shall be sent for.”
“I suppose you would like me to thank you, but I find it difficult to thank you for anything.”
“It is not necessary. Suffice it that the midwife shall come.”
He half rose in his chair—a gesture of dismissal. But I did not wish to be dismissed. I was angry to be used in this manner and seeing him there in his elegant clothes, his cold face expressionless, his manner so precise, and thinking again of those nightly encounters and the way in which I had been used, robbed of my dignity, my will, everything to serve his revengeful purpose, my anger was so intense that I wanted to hurt him.
I said: “I can only pray that ere long I shall be free of you.”
“It is too soon yet,” he said. “But I pray with you that we shall both soon be relieved of this irksome duty.”
My anger was so great that I could have struck him.
I cried: “You appear to have no great difficulty in performing this irksome duty.”
“It is good of you to concern yourself on my behalf. May I assure you that we have substances which if taken judiciously arouse desire in the most reluctant.”
“And how long am I expected to submit to this distasteful duty of yours?”
“Rest assured that as soon as I am certain that my efforts have borne fruit I shall with the utmost pleasure and relief abandon my visits to you.”
“I think I may well by this time be with child.”
“We must be sure,” he said.
“It is such an effort for you. I thought but to spare you.”
“I have no wish to be spared from my revenge. The sooner I can effect it, the better.”
“And when you are certain that your loathsome seed is growing within me I shall be taken back to my home?”
“You will be returned to your affianced husband in the same condition that Isabella was left to me.”
“You are indeed a vengeful man,” I said. “Others must be trampled underfoot for the sake of your revenge.”
“It is often so.”
“I despise you for your cruelty, your indifference to others, for your cold and calculating revengeful nature. But I suppose that is of no importance to you.”
“None whatever,” he replied; and this time he stood up and bowed.
So I left him. But I kept thinking about him all day and wondering how I could be revenged on him.
Later that day the midwife rode into the courtyard on a mule and was brought to Honey. To our delight the woman could speak a little English. She was middle-aged and had been with a family in Cádiz which had had two English servants. Her English was of course limited, but it was a great relief to find she could understand a little.
She told us that Honey’s condition was good and that the child was due in the next week or so. She would ask that she might stay at the Hacienda so that they would not have to send for her in the night.
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.