When they arrived a warm welcome was given them. My stepmother was gracious and charming and my father too received them with a show of pleasure. Fenn looked pleased to be back and I was thrilled to see that when his eyes alighted on me they showed clearly his pleasure. There was something open and candid about him; he was the sort of man who would never be able to hide his feelings even if he wanted to. His sister Melanie was rather like him in appearance; she was quiet and gentle in manners; and their mother was a very gracious lady. I couldn’t help thinking that Trystan Priory must be a very pleasant, comfortable household.
Fenn was put into the Red Room once more; and Melanie and her mother shared a room close by.
Supper that night was taken in one of the smaller rooms—so that we could talk together, said my stepmother, before other guests arrived. So there were my father, my stepmother, Fenn, his sister and mother, and Connell, Senara and myself. Conversation was of the estates and of the trading company of which Fenn spoke with such enthusiasm and how pleasant it was for families like ours to get to know each other.
I could scarcely sleep that night; nor could Senara. We lay awake on our pallets talking about the evening.
“What mild people they are,” commented Senara. “They look as if nothing could arouse them. I have a good mind to set fire to their bedchamber. I daresay that girl Melanie would sit up in bed and say: ‘How strange. I believe the room is on fire,’ and then calmly walk out as though nothing had happened. Shall I set fire to it just to see if I’m right?”
“What a horrible idea! You do think of the strangest things.”
“One day I shall do them.”
“Please, Senara, you know I hate you to talk like that.”
“Why should I care what you hate? I hate to see you looking at that Fenn as though he’s Sir Lancelot or one of those knights who were irresistible to the ladies. You don’t care about that.”
“You have a very jealous nature.”
“Anyone who feels anything is jealous. It is only people like you and your silly Landors who don’t. They’re calm because they don’t feel anything. I think you’re all made of straw.”
I laughed at her, which infuriated her.
“Don’t think you are the only one who knows about love.” Her voice broke and there was a sob in it. “I wonder what is happening to Dickon now.”
“I dare say he found another post teaching music and dancing to a susceptible young girl. They now gaze at each other over the table and he sings songs to her as he plays his lute.”
“Don’t talk so,” cried Senara.
“I’m sorry. Do you still care about him?”
“Of course I don’t, but I don’t want him laughed at.”
“I’m not laughing at him. I’m sorry for him. I hope he found a good post quickly.”
She changed the subject. “That Melanie will soon be living here. They’ve chosen her for Connell.”
“What!”
“It’s true. Merry heard them talking about it and she told me. It’s more or less arranged. They only have to like each other. Connell will, I dare say. His father wants him to, so he has to; and as long as he can frolic with the serving wenches he’s ready to marry whoever is chosen for him.”
“Where do you get such ideas?”
“I keep my eyes open. Servants talk to me more than they do to you. They’d be afraid to tell you. You’re so proper.”
“Connell and Melanie,” I said.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Is it not obvious? It’s time Connell married … you know, get sons to carry on the line. Connell will be rich—he’ll inherit all this … and she will have a good dowry, you can be sure. Just imagine, in a little while I’ll warrant we have dear prim little Melanie installed as our sister.”
“Well, I think Connell will be lucky.”
“You would! And Connell, what of him? He won’t get much fun with her, I’ll swear. Well, the serving girls are always willing when it is the master of the house, which he will be in time.”
“You talk too freely, Senara.”
“What should I do? Cloak my thoughts as you do … or try to. Don’t think I don’t know you, Tamsyn Casvellyn. I see clearly what is in your mind. You betray it and if you did not I have means …”
I laughed aloud. “Oh, I see, this is the witch’s daughter speaking.”
“Never underestimate a witch, Tamsyn.”
“How many more times do I have to tell you not to speak of yourself as a witch. It’s dangerous and growing more so.”
“This is only in the four walls of our bedchamber. I trust you, Tamsyn, not to betray me. You would never betray anyone. Least of all your sister, Senara. We are sisters, Tamsyn. Do you remember when I made you cut your wrist and I cut mine and we mingled our blood and swore that we would come to the aid of the other when that one was in danger?”
I laughed. “How you loved those dramatic gestures when you were a child.”
“I love them still. It’s part of my witch’s nature.”
“Hush!”
“What! Do you think the witchfinders are lurking in the court cupboard? Do you think they are going to spring out and search my body for the marks? There are no marks on my body, Tamsyn, not yet.”
“Go to sleep,” I said.
“I can’t sleep. I’m thinking of the future. Of Melanie coming here and your going away. An exchange, that’s what they want—you will go to Trystan Priory as the bride of holy Fenn and Melanie comes here to take your place. I won’t have it. I won’t have her in place of you. You are my blood-sister and where you go I shall go.”
“I could take you with me.”
“See, you have already made up your mind to go. Do not think that I shall allow you to go to your lover. I must have a lover; or I must be with you. Perhaps I will take your lover and I will be the one to go to Trystan Priory as the bride and you will come there and stay with me. That would be a complete turn about.”
“I never heard such nonsense. I am going to sleep now if you won’t.”
“Tamsyn,” she wailed.
But I did not answer her. I lay still pretending to sleep but of course I could not. I kept thinking about Connell’s marrying Melanie. I did not think she would be very happy. Then I thought of my marrying Fenn and going to Trystan Priory which would be my home for ever after.
The next morning Fenn asked me if I would take a ride with him. I was very happy to agree to this and I wondered whether during the ride he would ask me to marry him.
Before we went to the stables he said he would like to visit the burial grounds and we did. The rosemary bush was flourishing.
“I watched over it,” I said. “See this creeper. It is going from my mother’s to the grave of the unknown sailor.”
“In time,” he said, “it will cover them both.”
He stood up and took my hands in his.
“Thank you for caring for this grave, Tamsyn. I dare say you will think I am fanciful. You see, I don’t know where my father lies and in a way this is a sort of substitute.”
“I understand absolutely. I should feel the same. Rest assured that I will always care for the grave.”
He looked at me very solemnly and I thought: This is the moment. But then I heard someone calling my name. “Tamsyn. Tamsyn, where are you?”
It was Senara.
She was at the edge of the burial ground, dressed in her riding habit. It was of mulberry-coloured velvet and she had a riding hat, rather like a man’s, with a band about it and feather at the back. She seemed to grow more beautiful every day; she was beginning to look very like her mother, but the mysterious look of her mother in her was a vitality which made her more human than her mother could ever be.