“You are comforting, Honey.”

“I’m glad. Now let me tell you my news. I am going to have a child.”

“Honey!” I went to her and kissed her. “That’s wonderful! And you’re happy. I can see you are. You’ve changed. You’ve got that maternal serenity. Mother will be delighted. She’ll want you to go back to her for the birth. Yes, you must. She and Grandmother will coo over you. They won’t trust anyone to look after you. And is Edward pleased?”

“Edward is delighted and I don’t intend to disappoint him this time.” She was referring to the miscarriage she had had in the first year of her marriage.

“We must take the utmost care,” I said; and I forgot the unpleasant incident on the ship in my excitement about the baby.

I was not allowed to forget for long.

That day Thomas Elders rode over. When he came he stayed the night, heard Mass in the chapel the following day and then probably stayed another night before going off to the next Catholic household.

He did not come as a priest but as a friend of Edward’s; he supped with us and conversation at the table was never of religious matters. The next day Mass was celebrated and those trusted servants who wished to attend did so. The others were quite unaware of what was going on. The chapel was always kept locked so that the fact that it should be so during the hearing of Mass raised no comment.

I, of course, did not attend, although I was aware of what was going on, and remembering the past so well and the anxieties my mother had suffered, I was always uneasy when Thomas Elders was in the house.

I went out riding in the morning. The excitement of Honey’s news had subsided and I kept thinking of those shameful moments in the Captain’s cabin on the Rampant Lion. I returned from my ride and took Marigold to the stables. The new young man, Richard Rackell, took her from me.

I said: “I think she’s losing a shoe, Richard.”

He nodded. He had deeply set, expressive eyes and was quite handsome. He bowed and the gesture would have graced a Court.

I asked: “Are you getting along well?”

He replied that he thought he was giving satisfaction.

“I know it is not the kind of work to which you are accustomed.”

“I become accustomed, Mistress,” he replied.

He interested me. There was something rather mysterious about him. I remember that Jake Pennlyon had been suspicious that he came from the North. Then I forgot Richard Rackell for my angry thoughts were back with that man who never seemed to be out of my mind for very long.

My way to the house led around by the chapel. Mass would either be in progress or over by now.

My heart leaped in sudden terror, for the small door which led to the leper’s squint opened suddenly and Jake Pennlyon emerged. I immediately thought: Through the leper’s squint one can look into the chapel!

There was a fierce glint in his eyes the second or so before they alighted on me. Then they were bright with that intense blue fire.

“Well met, Mistress,” he said, and came toward me. He would have embraced me, but I stepped hurriedly back and he allowed me to do so while implying that he was respecting my objections and could comfortably have ignored them.

“What are you doing here?”

“What should I be doing but calling on my betrothed?”

“And who is this … Jennet, the maid, who I believe has caught your fancy?”

“A serving wench, be she maid or harlot, could not be my betrothed. She whom I have chosen to honor now stands before me.”

“She whom you attempted to dishonor, you mean.” I turned away, but he was beside me.

He gripped my arm so that it hurt.

“Know this,” he said. “My father is now at the house. I came to look for you. He is planning the celebrations for our betrothal. I had of course acquainted him with your acceptance of my proposal. He wishes to make it a grand occasion. He has invited half the neighborhood.”

“Then,” I cried, “he will have to cancel the invitations.”

“On what grounds?”

“That there is no betrothal. How could there be without the consent of the intended bride?”

“But that has already been given.” He looked at me in mock reproach. “You have so soon forgotten visiting me in my cabin. Surely you would not have come there if there had not been an understanding between us?”

“You tricked me.”

“You are not going to tell me again that you did not come with the utmost willingness?” He had raised his eyebrows in mock seriousness.

I cried: “I hate you!”

“Well, that is a good start,” he said.

I tried to release my arm, but he would not let me go.

“What do you propose to do?” he asked.

“Go and tell your father that he should cancel his invitations without delay.”

“He’ll not do that.”

“Then you must find another bride.”

“I have found the one I want. She is here now.”

I looked around. “I do not see her.”

“Why feign reluctance when you are eager? There is no need to. Let us have done with such insincerities. Let us be truthful to each other.” He drew me close to him and held me so tightly that I felt my bones would break. My rage overcame all other feelings.

I kicked him; but he laughed. He held me just to show how puny were my efforts to escape.

I attempted with words what I could not do with physical strength.

“Your buccaneering methods may be effective on the high seas. They will avail you nothing in a gentleman’s household.”

“Wrong again, my wildcat. They will bring me what I want and at the moment I want you. I’d have had you ere this, but it must be legal this time. Our son will be born in wedlock. Not that I’ll brook delay. But we’ll wed first and bed after.”

“Even your wife would have to make her vows of her own volition, I suppose. How will you achieve that?”

“There are ways,” he said.

“You have chosen unwisely if you expect obedience from me.”

“I have chosen as I must and I shall have your obedience. I shall tame my wildcat so that she will purr for my caresses.”

“Your metaphors are clumsy, like everything else you do.”

“Listen to me,” he said. “You will come and meet my father. You will smile and tell him you are pleased to have been honored by us.”

“You joke.”

“I am serious. You have given me your promise and, by God, you will keep it.”

“You will make me do that?”

“I will. Do not be foolish, Mistress Catharine. It could go ill with you if I were to tell what I have this day seen through the leper’s squint.”

I turned pale and the triumph leaped into his eyes.

“I have long suspected,” he said. “I would not answer for what should happen if my father knew,”

“Even though his future daughter-in-law were involved?”

“You’re not a Papist. I know that well enough. If you were I’d beat the Popery out of you.”

“What a nice kind husband you will be.”

“So you have accepted that I shall be your husband.”

“You don’t let me finish. I was going to say … to the poor simpleton who is misguided enough to marry you.”

“That will be no simpleton. It will be a wise woman. Catharine, no less, for no one else will do. I have sworn to have her and I do not swear in vain.”

“And if I refuse?”

“How can you bring disaster to this house?”

“You would not be so cruel.”

“I would be anything to get what I want.”

“I hate you as I never thought it possible to hate anyone.”

“While your eyes flash for me I’m happy enough. I will wait a week or so … no more. So come with me now. You will meet my father. You will smile and behave as though this match between us is a delight to you.”

“How could I be so false?”

“Either be false or the betrayer of this household.”

“Does that mean that you would harm them?”

“I mean every word of it.”

“First attempted rape. Then blackmail.”

“That is just a beginning,” he said with a laugh.