“You must not be jealous because Kate and I have been lovers.”
“Jealous!” I said. “Not jealous. I think I always knew that I was the second choice…the one who had to come to you for yourself alone because Kate had refused to do so. It is all clear to me now. You had nothing to offer Kate except as a lover so, in her worldly fashion, she rejected you as a husband. Blithely she bore your son. Then, piqued, you went to London. There you either approached or were approached by foreign spies in this country who were interested in reviving what the King had destroyed.”
“You are wrong.”
“Indeed I am not. You…the god or whatever you think you are…are merely one of many little facets in the Spanish scheme. You went to the Continent on an embassy for the King, you tell us. You went to the Continent to take instructions from your masters. You were given money to acquire the Abbey and return it to what it was in the days before the dissolution. You were chosen because you were found in the Christmas crib in the Lady Chapel. Oh, it is all becoming very clear to me.”
“You are shouting,” said Bruno.
“And you are afraid that I shall explode your myth. Is it not time that myth was exploded? Is it not time that you were known for what you are? An ambitious man…who is not without his moments of lust and ambition and would sacrifice his son and daughter if need be to keep his pride intact.”
Kate said: “What has come over you, Damask? This is not like you.”
“It has been coming over me for a long time. I have seen so much of late. I have seen this man for what he is.”
“But you love him. You always did. We are bound together. We three were as one.”
“Not anymore, Kate. I am no longer close to either of you. You have deceived me, both of you. You will never do it again.”
“You must not take this hard,” said Kate. “It all happened so naturally.”
“Is it so natural,” I asked, “that a man should be unfaithful to his wife, that he should have sons, and his own daughter should want to marry one of them?”
“That is the situation to which we must give some thought,” said Bruno looking coldly at me. “When Damask has finished pitying herself perhaps we could discuss it.”
“Pitying myself! My pity is for those young people.”
“It must not be known,” said Bruno. “Catherine can be married suitably or Kate can find a wife for Carey who will make him forget Catherine.”
“We are not all so fickle in our relationships as you are,” I reminded him.
“They are young. They will recover. In a few months this will have been just an adventure to them,” said Kate.
“How glibly you settle the lives of others! It is nothing to you to make a loveless marriage for the sake of expediency. Others do not feel the same. They must be told the truth.”
“I forbid it,” said Bruno.
“You forbid it. You may have no say in the matter. This is my daughter. They shall be told, for in their present mood they could run away together and marry no matter what we say.”
“And if they did?”
“A brother and sister! What if there are children?”
Nobody spoke and I was horrified because I knew that Bruno was ready to let them marry and take the consequences rather than to tell them the truth.
I looked at him standing there.
And I could bear no more. I turned and ran from the room.
Catherine caught me on the stairs.
“Oh, Mother, what is happening?”
“Come to your room, my darling. I must talk to you.”
I took her in my arms and held her against me.
“Oh, Catherine, my dearest child.”
“What is wrong, Mother? What is Aunt Kate trying to do? She hates me.”
“No, my dearest, she does not. But you cannot marry Carey.”
“Why? Why? I tell you I will. We have said we will not allow any of you to ruin our lives.”
“You cannot marry him because he is your brother.”
She stared at me and I led her to the window seat and sat there with my arm about her. It seemed such a sordid story told simply.
“You see there were three of us, myself, Kate and your father. He loved Kate but he was poor then and she married Lord Remus but she had your father’s child. So you see he is your brother. That is why we say you cannot marry.”
“It is not true. It can’t be. My father! He is….”
She looked at me as though begging me to deny it.
“Men do these things,” I said. “It is not an uncommon story.”
“But he is not as ordinary men.”
“You believed that, did you not?”
“I thought him divine in some way. The story of the crib….”
“Yes, I suppose that is where it starts, with the story of the crib. My dearest child, you are young yet but your love for Carey and the tragedy of it has made of you a woman, so I shall treat you as such. You have listened to Clement and he has told you the wonderful story of how the Abbot went into the Lady Chapel one Christmas morning and found a child in the crib. That child was your father. It was known as the Miracle of St. Bruno’s. You know that story.”
“Clement told me. Others have talked of it. The people here all talk of it.”
“And with the coming of the child the Abbey prospered. The Abbey was dissolved with others in the country but is rising again through the child in the crib. You believe that, do you not? And it is true. But you must know more of the truth and I believe it will help you to overcome your tragedy. All that you have been told is true. Your father was found in the crib but he was put there by the monk who was his father, and his birth was the result of that monk’s liaison with a serving girl. I knew her well. She was my nurse.”
“It can’t be true, Mother.”
“It is true. Keziah told the true version; so did Keziah’s grandmother, and I have the monk’s written confession.”
“But he…my father does not know?”
“He knows it. In his heart he knows it. He has known it since Keziah divulged it. But he will not admit it and his refusal to do so has made him what he is.”
“You hate him,” she said, drawing away from me.
“Yes. I think I do. This hatred has been growing in my heart for a long time. I think since you were born and he turned from you because you were a girl and not the boy his pride demanded. No, it was before that. It was when Honey came to me and he resented her—a little child, helpless and lovable. But she was his sister and he could not bear to be reminded of the mother who bore them both. He hated Honey; he resented her. Yes, that was when I first began to turn against him.”
“Oh, Mother, what am I going to do?”
“We will bear it together, my love,” I cried, weeping with her.
There was hatred in the Abbey now. I was aware of it.
I looked from my window across the Abbey lands to the bastion of the castlelike structure which he had built to resemble Remus Castle. It must be as grand, nay grander, so that Kate should realize every time she looked at it that she could have had wealth and Bruno too.
Catherine had shut herself into her room. She would see no one but me. I was glad to be able to offer her some comfort.
She said of her father: “I wish never to see him again.”
Kate stayed in her room writing to Carey.
Now that I had made my feelings clear to Bruno I was determined to show him Ambrose’s confession, for I knew that we had gone so far that there was no drawing back. Bruno must face the truth. Even so I did not think it was possible to start a new life from there. I feel I had exposed my own feelings to such an extent that I understood them myself as I never had before.