She was looking at me. Perhaps he reminded her of my father; she knew what her feelings for him were. Was she asking herself if while outwardly I seemed to hate this man he aroused some strange emotions within me? If she was thinking this, she was right.
His size, his blustering manner, the power that exuded from him had a certain magnetism. I could not understand what it was, but when I compared Fennimore with him, Fennimore seemed a little insignificant.
He leaned against the table and regarded the tips of his boots. His expression had grown melancholy. “If she will not accept me, Madam, what a plight she will be in! Your daughter condemned as a girl who grants favours before marriage. Oh, I agree, she was forced to it, but such is the way of the world that even so, a maiden’s plight is held against her. It is wrong, it is cruel; but nevertheless true. I am to blame. I have put her into this condition. I wish to make amends and I swear with all my heart, Madam, that I will do so. Tell me I may come tomorrow with my docile priest. You have a chapel here. We will have a ceremony in secret. I shall be your daughter’s husband. Then if you wish it we can tell our little secret to the world. We will have our grand wedding as soon as is possible and I shall take my bride with me to Castle Paling. She will already be with child but why should she not be when she was secretly married to the husband of her choice as far back as November.”
There was silence in the room. I was aware of the thudding of my heart as it shook my body. He was right. It was a way out. Even those who did not believe that we had been secretly married in November would not dare say so. My child would be born with all honour—the heir of Castle Paling. There would be no bitter subterfuge to darken my life. And I should be his wife. The thought I must admit filled me with terror and yet it was a delicious sort of terror. I was beginning to think it was a terror I must experience.
He was the first to speak. “Tomorrow,” he said, “I shall come here with the priest.”
“We must have time to think of this,” said my mother. “Tomorrow is too soon.”
“There is little time to waste, Madam. Remember our child grows bigger with every day. I will come tomorrow with the priest. By then you will have seen that this is the answer!”
He bowed and went out into the courtyard. I heard him shouting for his horse. My mother and I were silent, listening to the sound of his horse’s hoofs as he rode away.
Then she took my arm. “Come away from here, Linnet,” she said. “We must go somewhere where we can talk in peace.”
All through that day we talked.
“My dearest child,” said my mother, “it is a decision which only you can make. You must not forget that this is for life. Marriage with him would provide an immediate solution, but don’t forget you have to consider the future. If such a marriage were distasteful to you, you must not enter into it. Anything … yes, anything is better than that. What happened was no fault of yours. Everyone will see that.”
“Will people believe it?” I asked. “There will be hints. They will follow me all my life.”
“That is not so. You have the example of Romilly. She gave birth to a child and your own father fathered it. Can you imagine a greater scandal than that? Yet somehow she has continued to live here and she feels no shame.”
“I am not Romilly.”
“Nay indeed. The situation is different. He has wronged you and surprisingly has come to make amends.”
“He has come because he wants the child.”
“He could marry if he wished and have one. Yet he has offered you marriage.”
“Yes, it is true,” I said.
“But, my dearest, you must think clearly. You must not take a solution merely because it seems easy to you. Tell me what is in your mind.”
I raised my bewildered eyes to her face. “I do not know,” I said.
“Has he perhaps fascinated you a little?”
“I am unsure.”
“I understand it. There is something strong about him. You know something of what happened to me. I did not want to marry your father yet compared with him all other men seemed small and insignificant. You see how it is with us. We have always quarrelled. Often we have hated each other, and yet there is something between us. Is it love? I don’t know. It is a bond, the severing of which would take something vital from our lives. I suppose that is love … in a way. As soon as he came into the inn he reminded me of your father. They are the buccaneers of the world, such men; and this is an age of buccaneers. They are the men of our times—the ideal, one might say. The times are not nice and gentle. We are fighting for our place in the world … and we produce men such as these to make and hold our place there. That’s how I see it. But such talk does not help us. Tell me how you felt for Fennimore?”
“I liked him. His manners are charming and he is good to look at. I think he would be a good husband.”
“I think so, too. He is kind and gentle and would understand what happened was no fault of yours.”
“If there had not been a child … Perhaps I should try to rid myself of it, but I don’t want to, Mother. Already I feel that it is mine and in spite of everything …”
“I understand. And I would not allow you to rid yourself of it. Many girls have died through such a thing. Whatever the outcome, you will have the child. Shall we speak to Fennimore? Shall we tell him what has happened?”
I shook my head.
“Then you will go to my mother?”
“I couldn’t bear to leave you.”
“Then you need not. You could have the child here. You and I would bring it up together.”
“My father …”
My mother laughed and the derisive smile was on her face as though he were there to see it. “He will have to accept what is done.”
“There will be trouble. He will never let Colum Casvellyn escape his fury.”
“That’s true.”
“And if aught happened to my father …”
She put her hands on my shoulders and looked at me earnestly. “Linnet,” she said, “somewhere in the depth of your mind you want to marry this man.”
I lowered my eyes. I could not look at her.
She held me against her and stroked my hair. “You need feel no shame. I understand. So much happened to me. It is not always easy to understand one’s emotions. There is a virility about him. You need not be ashamed because you want to respond to it. It is natural. By marrying him you would be taking a great risk. It would be like going on a journey into the unknown, on a ship of which you knew nothing and an unpredictable captain in charge of the vessel. Well, Linnet, you are a sailor’s daughter.”
That night I could not sleep. It was after midnight when my mother came into my room. We lay in my bed together, I was clasped in her arms and she told me of her own youth and what had happened to her: and I knew that there was something of her in me and something of my father too. I knew that a perilous adventure lay before me but I could no longer turn my back on it than either of them could have done.
The next day, true to his word, Colum Casvellyn arrived at Lyon Court. He brought a priest with him. And in the chapel he and I were married.
I was amazed how sober he could be. When the ceremony was over he embraced me with gentleness; and he docilely agreed to go away until my mother had been able to speak to my father.
She would lie to him for it was necessary. She wanted no bloodshed. She would tell him that I had quietly married Colum Casvellyn some months before and, fearing his disapproval, as he had wished for an alliance with the Landors, had kept my secret until I was with child and realized it had to be told.
We stood together watching Colum ride away. Then she turned to me and looked at me steadily.
“So we found our solution, Linnet,” she said. “Pray God it was the right one.”