It was a good match for the Merridews—providing, of course, that there was no trouble through my father’s involvement with the Monmouth Rebellion. Estates and fortunes could be lost overnight through such activities.
The Merridews, like ourselves, were keeping away from the Court at this time, remaining in the country, which was some way from London. We were hoping that recent events would soon be forgotten, although we did hear rumours that there were many who did not care for the new King’s views and that trouble was brewing in various quarters.
“Whatever it is,” said my mother firmly, “we are keeping out of it.”
And I think that in view of my father’s recent experiences, her words carried weight.
At this time there was nothing to think about but the wedding and we travelled to the Merridews for the ceremony, which took place in the chapel in their house. There was a banquet and much toasting of the married pair, after which they went back to Eversleigh, for it was considered fitting that they should spend the first night of their married life in the traditional bridal chamber which my mother had prepared for them.
We stayed at Merridew Court for two nights before returning, and as we were riding home side by side my mother said to me: “It is a great pleasure to me to see Edwin happily married. Jane is such a pleasant creature. I am sure they will be happy.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “they suit each other. It wouldn’t occur to either of them to be anything but happy together.”
“Now what do you mean by that?”
“Well, I think they would always do what was expected of them and everyone expects them to be happy.”
“That is not such a bad thing, is it?”
“No. But it doesn’t always work out so neatly for some.”
I wished I had not said that for it gave her an opening.
“My dear Priscilla, I should like to see you as happily settled.”
I was silent.
“I know,” she went on, “that you felt some romantic attachment to that poor young man, but it is quite a long time ago and you were only a child then.”
Still I said nothing.
“It was only a childish fancy, my dear. You mustn’t let it colour your life. You must meet more people. You seem so serious sometimes … almost as though you are brooding. You have been different since we came back from Dorchester.”
It would have been so easy then to have shouted the truth, to tell her what I had done, to explain the mystery of my father’s release. I wanted to laugh mockingly at her references to me as a child. A child who had borne a child, who had lived through that night with Beaumont Granville! She was an innocent compared with me. I was the worldly one, the woman who had lived.
We had been back at Eversleigh Court two days when Leigh arrived. He had been unable to get back in time for the wedding.
It was a great pleasure to see him. He had grown visibly older. He had seen service abroad and there was a certain uneasiness in his manner. Later he told us the reason for this. Trouble was in the air. The King was favouring Catholics in all walks of life and a large proportion of the people did not like it. Leigh very much feared there would be rebellion in the country.
“Another civil war would be disastrous,” he said, when we sat over dinner. “Englishmen against Englishmen as it was not so long ago. It is different if it is one country against another. I don’t want to fight my fellow countrymen on whatever pretext. I wish I were not in the army. Perhaps I’ll retire and settle down.”
“That,” said my mother fervently, “would not be a bad idea. But if James were not King, who would be?”
Leigh lowered his voice. “There is the King’s son-in-law, William of Orange.”
“William of Orange!” cried my mother.
“Why not? He is married to Mary and she is the King’s eldest daughter. He has a claim of his own. Wasn’t his mother the eldest daughter of Charles the First? He is a Protestant and a steady man, a brave one too if not a very likeable one. But charm is not one of the necessary qualifications of a ruler.”
“This is strange talk,” cried my father, “but, by God, it would be a good day for England if ever this came to pass.”
“There would be a certain amount of conflict before it did,” Leigh pointed out. “I don’t like it at all. If only Charles had lived.”
“Ah, there you express the sentiments of us all,” said my father.
In spite of the happy occasion of the wedding a gloom had crept into the house. I think my parents were remembering the days of the Civil War when no man had known who was his enemy and my father had entered into a great charade, playing the character of a Roundhead while serving the Royalist cause. I had heard many a tale of those times.
Leigh and I went riding. We rode down to the sea and there tethered our horses. We walked together along the beach and suddenly he said: “Will you marry me, Priscilla?”
I suppose I had always believed that one day he would ask me. In the old days before I had known Jocelyn, I had hoped he would. I had had a kind of hero worship for him when I was a child. He had always been my champion. Until Jocelyn had come along I should have said that Leigh was the one with whom I should want to share my life.
But I wasn’t that simple, innocent girl anymore. I had fallen in love with Jocelyn and then … there was Beaumont Granville. I should never really get him out of my mind. That night with him had made me feel I had no desire for marriage.
And yet here was Leigh … and I loved Leigh. I trusted him. He was my protector. He was the one who had thrashed Beaumont Granville for daring to attempt my abduction.
I was silent for some minutes, and I sensed Leigh’s disquiet.
“I’ve been waiting for you to grow up,” he said. “And I have been away so much. Priscilla, you do love me, don’t you?”
“Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
He stopped and joyfully took my hands. He looked into my face. “Then what is it?” he asked.
“I am not sure,” I answered.
“Not sure! But you have said you love me. You always did. When you were tiny you used to come to me first … with everything. I was the one you always wanted.”
“Yes, I know. You were like my brother.”
“Your brother. Yes that, but more besides. It wasn’t like Edwin, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t. Yes, Leigh, you were the hero, the one who saved me when I was in difficulties … the shining knight in armour.”
“Now you are getting poetic. Why do you hesitate, Priscilla? There is no one else, is there?”
I shook my head.
I wished we had not come to the beach. I could remember so much. Jocelyn and I sitting there near the cave … the man who had walked along with the dogs and the awful fear that had possessed me then … groundless fear as it had turned out to be.
“Then what is it?” asked Leigh.
“It is not quite what it seems, Leigh. There are things you would have to know.”
“Then let me know them,” he said.
“I am afraid this will be a shock for you. Carlotta is my daughter.”
He stopped still and stared at me.
“You see, Leigh,” I said, “when you know everything you may not want to marry me.”
He said slowly: “It was Jocelyn … but I thought that was just a child’s admiration for a handsome young hero.”
“You always insisted on my childishness. You have made me a child for too long. I was not a child. I was young, but I fell in love with him, and when we were marooned on the Eyot we were lovers. He was taken the next day and, as you know, executed. I have Carlotta to remind me of him.”
“But Carlotta is supposed to be my mother’s daughter.”
I shook my head. “Harriet helped me. What I should have done without her, I do not know.”