I was beaten. I knew it. How foolish they were to have the priest here. Why hadn’t they thought of the leper’s squint? They locked the door to the chapel and forgot the one which led to the room in which those who looked through the squint assembled.

As I walked across the lawn with him beside me I was thinking: The betrothal then … and no more. I shall think of a way out. I will go back to my mother. Honey will have to help me. After all, she and Edward have brought me to this.

Sir Penn was sprawling in the big chair with the carved wooden back. He chuckled when I entered the hall with Jake. Honey and Edward were not there. I wondered whether they were still in the chapel.

Sir Penn hoisted himself out of the chair and came toward me; he put his arms about me and kissed me hard on the mouth. I felt bruised where his lips had touched me.

“Well,” he said, “my son never was one to waste time. You’re getting a bargain there, my girl. I can vouch for him.”

He thrust his elbow into Jake’s ribs and Jake laughed.

“No need to tell her that, Father,” he said. “She’s no foolish virgin.”

They laughed together, obscenely, I thought. Jake put his arm over my shoulder; I felt his fingers pressing my flesh.

“We’ll have the wedding shortly following the betrothal. There’s no sense in waiting. We want you to give us a little Pennlyon without delay.”

I wanted to cry out: I shall never marry this man. I’d rather burn at the stake.

But it was precisely because I feared what would happen to us all since this ruthless man knew what had taken place in the chapel this morning that I was allowing them to assume that I had accepted Jake Pennlyon’s proposal.

Honey appeared then—without her usual serenity. Her face was flushed, her manner uncertain. One of the servants must have told her that the Pennlyons were here and she would be thinking of the necessity to guard Thomas Elders from such men as these.

“Good day and welcome,” she said. “So Catharine is here. I have just heard that you had arrived. You will take some wine?” She went to the bell rope.

Edward came in and greeted the visitors.

“A happy occasion,” shouted Sir Penn. “These young people… Well, I have lost no time. There’s never time to waste. We’re celebrating the betrothal at Lyon Court and then we’ll follow with the wedding. They’re impatient, these two, and I can’t say I blame them. I don’t blame them at all.”

Honey was looking at me fixedly. She was waiting for me to protest.

I opened my mouth to say it was all a mistake and that I had no intention of marrying when I caught Jake’s eye—mocking, warning, cruelly relentless. I thought: He would betray them. He would have no compunction. He is without mercy.

Then I remembered my mother’s telling me as she had on one occasion of how the father she adored had been a prisoner in the Tower and how one day he had been taken to the block and his head placed on London Bridge. I knew that never could she escape from the memory of that time; it had shadowed all her happiness. I had lost Carey and I believed I could never be completely happy again; and if I should be the one to betray Honey how could I face my mother or forgive myself?

A sudden exhilaration came to me. I would outwit this man who had so shortly come into my life and dominated it. I would let him believe that he had won, but he never should. At the moment I must agree to this betrothal because to fail to do so would endanger Honey and Edward. His victory should be only a brief one. If Jake Pennlyon thought I had so easily succumbed he was going to find his mistake.

He took my hand and held it tightly. His grip was a warning in itself. I could break your fingers if I wished; and I will as easily break your spirit.

“Why, Catharine,” said Honey, “may I indeed congratulate the pair of you?”

“This is a time for congratulations,” said Jake. “We want a speedy wedding.”

Honey put her fragrant cheek against mine, her eye inquiring.

“So you have decided, Catharine?” she said. “Why, it is but a short time that you were declaring you would never marry.”

“My son has that in him to break down the resistance of the most retiring damsel.”

“It seems so.”

The wine and cakes were brought in.

Edward poured the wine and gave the toast.

“To the betrothed pair.”

Jake took his glass and drank, then offered it to me. I stared for a moment at his full sensual lips and turned my head slightly. He was thrusting the glass into my hands and I drank.

It was as though I had sealed my promise.

They began to talk about the betrothal, which was to be celebrated at Lyon Court. The wedding would take place here.

“It should be at my mother’s house,” I protested.

“What, on the other side of the country,” cried Jake. “Sailors have no time for such fancies. Your mother must needs come to Devon if she wishes to dance at your wedding.”

“I shall make my plans,” I said.

And I saw the smile turn up Jake Pennlyon’s lips.

I listened vaguely to the conversation. Sir Penn was asking questions about my father’s estate. Edward was answering them as best he could. There should be a good dowry, Sir Penn was saying, but even if there was not there would be no bar to the marriage. “Bar my son when he’s made up his mind! That’s something I could not do an’ I wished it. Nor should I wish it. My son is the image of his father and I’d have that so too. He sees a filly and he’s got to ride her and I know he’s in no mood to wait for his bride.” He leaned toward me. “He’s eager. You’ll find he’s no laggard. That’s the way to ensure sons. You’re not one of these poor swooning females as will faint at the sight of a man. Not you. I saw it from the first. You’re the sort who’ll breed sons with spirit, for you’ve got spirit yourself; and you’ll be as mad for him as he is for you and that’s the way to get sons … get ’em early and get ’em in plenty. Pennlyon boys.”

I hated the man as much as I hated his son. Their frank and racy conversation brought images to my mind. I was a virgin, but I knew something of the relationships of the sexes. Once I had come upon two of the servants copulating in a field. I had listened to talk. So the images came and went … myself and that man, with his lustful, mocking eyes. And when I was in his presence these images were always ready to intrude and disturb.

I scarcely listened to the conversation. It was about the wedding and first of all the betrothal celebration. Honey was bewildered and I was not surprised because it was such a short time ago that I had expressed my dislike of the man. Edward never betrayed his feelings; as far as he was concerned no one would have guessed that there was anything unusual about this betrothal.

It was to take place the following week; and the wedding should be four weeks later. “That will give Jake time to do his courting.” The old man’s chuckle was horrible. He meant of course forestall our marriage vows. “And as soon as we get them into legal bed the better. Jake will be sailing just two months after the day. But it’ll not be a long voyage this time. Jake wouldn’t have that when he’d a wife keeping his bed warm for him.”

I felt sickened. I wanted to shout out: I will never agree. I am pretending. I have no intention of marrying this man.

But I kept silent because whenever I was about to speak I thought of Honey and Edward taken off to some miserable cell and my mother’s heartbroken eyes. She had suffered too much already.

In any case, I was deceiving them. I was letting this arrogant man think he had subdued me. Nothing would induce me to share his bed as his father was fond of putting it, to bear his child, which seemed to be the main idea in the minds of both of them.

It seemed a long time before they left. I was embraced by both father and son. I hated the way they thrust their bodies close to mine.