We sat rather stiffly on our chairs, the tapestry back and seats of which had been worked by Edward’s great-aunt. I thought the chair might break under Sir Penn, for he sat with little thought for its fragility and Honey threw a glance at me as though to say, We have to get used to country manners.
Sir Penn said what a fine thing it was to have neighbors of the quality to bring their fine Venetian glass for them to drink out of. His eyes twinkled as he spoke as though he were laughing at us and in a way despised us—except Honey of course and perhaps me. Both of them—father and son—had an insolence in their looks which suggested that they were assessing our personal attributes in a manner which was slightly disturbing.
“And how long are you staying here?” he wanted to know of Edward.
Edward replied evasively that so much depended on circumstances. His father had wished him to come and look after the estates here for a while. It would depend on what happened on the Surrey estate.
“Ah,” said Sir Penn, “you noble families have your seats in every part of the kingdom. Why, young sir, there must be times when you wonder whether you’re a Surrey or a Devon man or maybe there is some other county to claim you.”
“My father has estates in the North,” said Edward.
“Marry! Why, you’ve a foot in every part of the Queen’s realm, young man.”
“By no means,” said Edward. “And might I not say that your ships sail on every known part of the ocean?”
“You can say it, sir, you can say it. And Jake will tell you that it’s so. Just back he is from a long voyage, but he’s too taken with the company to give voice.”
Jake said: “The company delights me as you see.” And he was looking straight at me, mocking because here he was and I had said it was not likely that he would be invited. “But I’ll confirm it’s true that I have but recently returned from a voyage.”
“My sister was excited when she saw your ship come in. She sees the ships come in from her window, and never seems to tire of it.”
Jake had brought his chair closer to mine. They had not the manner which we had come to expect. These people were lacking the niceties of behavior; they were more frank than we were, coarser too.
“So you liked my ship,” he said.
“I like all ships.”
“That’s the right spirit,” he said. “And you’ve never had the chance of seeing them before.”
“We were close to the river. I often saw boats sailing by.”
He laughed derisively. “Wherries and tugs,” he said.
“And royal barges. I have seen the Queen on her way to her Coronation.”
“And now you’ve seen the queen of ships.”
“Yours?” I asked.
“The Rampant Lion, none other.”
“So she is the queen, is she?”
“I’ll take you out to her. I’ll show you. You’ll see for yourself then.” He leaned toward me. I drew away and looked at him coldly, which seemed to amuse him. “When will you come?” he asked.
“I doubt I ever should.”
He raised eyebrows rather darker than his hair, which made the blue eyes more startling.
“You never thought to see me here, yet here I am. And now you tell me you never will come aboard my ship. I’ll warrant you’ll be my guest there within a week. Come, I’ll wager you.”
“I do not wager.”
“But you’ll come all the same.” He was bending toward me so that his face was close to my own. I attempted to look at him with indifference, but I was not very convincing. He at least was aware of the effect he had had on me. I drew back and his eyes mocked. “Yes,” he went on, “on my ship. Less than a week today. It’s a wager.”
“I have already told you I do not wager.”
“We’ll discuss terms later.”
I thought I should not care to be alone with such a man on his ship.
We were interrupted by the arrival of another guest, Mistress Crocombe, a simpering middle-aged woman, and when she had joined us in a glass of malmsey one of the servants announced that supper was ready and we went down the stairs to the dining room.
It was a beautiful room, one of the loveliest in the Grange I thought it. Through the leaded windows we could see the courtyard; the walls were hung with tapestries depicting the Wars of the Roses; the table was tastefully laid with more of the Venetian glass and gleaming silver dishes. Honey had made a centerpiece of various herbs which she grew in her herb garden and the effect was gracious.
Edward sat at the head of the table and Honey at the foot. On Honey’s right was Sir Penn and on her left Jake; on Edward’s right I sat and Miss Crocombe on his left, which meant that I was seated next to Jake and Miss Crocombe next to his father.
Could it be that this Captain Pennlyon is being brought forward as another possible suitor for me? I wondered. The thought angered me. Did they think they were going to make me forget Carey by producing a succession of men who could only remind me of Carey because of the differences between them?
Honey had certainly some very fine cooks. The food was excellently served; there was beef and lamb as well as sucking pig, a boar’s head and an enormous pie; and she had taken the trouble to introduce that pleasant custom of honoring the guests which we followed at home. One of the pies was in the form of a ship and on it had been placed by thin layers of paste the words “The Rampant Lion.” The delight of the Pennlyons when they saw this was almost childish; they laughed and ate great chunks of it. I had never seen such appetites as those two men had. The food was washed down often noisily with muscadel and malmsey, those wines which came from Italy and the Levant and were growing so fashionable.
They talked too, dominating the conversation. Miss Crocombe clearly adored Sir Penn, which was strange considering she was a somewhat prim spinster in her late thirties and certainly not the kind to attract such a man as Sir Penn whose appetites in all things I could imagine would be voracious. He was regarding Honey in a manner which I thought quite lascivious and occasionally he would throw a glance at me, amused, half-regretful, and the implication I put on that was that he was leaving me to the attention of his son. I thought his manners unpardonable. It seemed of no importance to him that Honey was the wife of his host.
Honey, however, seemed not to notice, or perhaps she was so used to blatant admiration that she accepted it as normal.
I asked Jake where his last voyage had taken him.
“Out to the Barbary Coast,” he said. “What a voyage! We had our troubles. Gales and seas enough to overturn us and such damage done to the ship that at one time it seemed we would have to limp home. But we braved it and we got into harbor and we tricked ourselves out to continue as we had meant.”
I said: “You must face death a thousand times during one voyage.”
“A thousand times is true, Mistress. That is why we love life so much. And do you not face death on land now and then?”
I was grave. I thought of my mother’s anxious face and I remembered that my grandfather had lost his head for no reason than that he had sheltered a friend and my grandmother’s second husband had died at the stake because he held certain opinions.
I said: “’Tis true. No one can be completely sure on one day that he or she will live to the next.”
He leaned toward me. “Therefore we should enjoy each day as it comes along and the devil take the next.”
“So that is your philosophy. Do you never plan for what is to come?”
His bold eyes looked into mine. “Oh … often. Then I make sure that what I wish for comes to pass.”
“You are very certain of yourself.”
“A sailor must always be certain of himself. And I’ll tell you another thing. He’s always in a hurry. You see time is something he cannot afford to waste. When will you come to see my ship?”