I went to the altar and blew out the candles. Manuela stood aloof, her eyes downcast.

“I wish to follow my father’s faith,” said Roberto.

How much had Manuela told him of his father—that courteous gentleman who was even now so often in my thoughts? I saw the firm set of Roberto’s jaw when he mentioned his father. He would never accept Jake in that role. He hated Jake. There was a fierce animosity between them. And if Jake ever discovered that he was harboring a Catholic under his roof what would he do?

Oh, God, I thought, is there no escape from this intolerance?

One thing I knew; there must be no more of these secret sessions with Manuela. When Jake returned Roberto would have to go to church with the rest of us—a good Protestant subject of our Protestant Queen.

“Take these things away, Manuela,” I said. “And there must be an end of this. You are no longer in Spain. Captain Pennlyon would turn you out of the house if he discovered what you are doing.”

She did not answer, and taking Roberto by the hand, I said: “Come with me.” I turned to Manuela. “Leave no trace of this and never attempt to do the like again.”

I took Roberto to my bedroom and reasoned with him. I explained how dangerous it was to do what he had done.

“I am a Spaniard,” he answered proudly and how like his father he looked. “I am not of this country.”

I put my arms about him and held him close. I wanted to tell him that we must be tolerant with each other. We must follow the true Christianity, which was to love our fellowmen. I repeated what my mother had said to me.

“It is enough to be good and kind, to love your neighbor. That is what being a Christian means.”

He listened thoughtfully and I hoped I had made some impression on him.

Soon after that I miscarried. Jake had been five months at sea. I had been uneasy in my mind ever since I had discovered Manuela and Roberto together, but I don’t think this had anything to do with my miscarriage.

What was wrong with me? I asked myself. Why had I borne Felipe a son when I appeared to be unable to bear Jake one?

I tried to forget my disappointment and my anxieties over Roberto by devoting myself to the children. They seemed different with Jake away. Carlos and Jacko lost something of their swagger as Roberto lost his fear. The tutor I engaged for them, a Mr. Merrimet, appeared eager to do his duty, yet with a certain gaiety which matched his name, and I was delighted that he should be so impressed with Roberto.

Edward’s cousin Aubrey Ennis had come down to Trewynd to manage the estate and it was pleasant to have him and his wife, Alice, as neighbors. From them I learned that Honey had given birth to a son.

We visited Trewynd and the Ennises visited us.

There was a great deal of talk of course about political events and Scotland was the scene of the most sensational.

The Queen’s husband, Darnley, had died violently in a house at Kirk o’Field, murdered undoubtedly, some said, by the Queen’s lover, the Earl of Bothwell. It was hinted that the Queen of Scots herself had had a hand in the crime. News was constantly coming from Scotland. The Queen had married Bothwell, her husband’s murderer, and by doing so, was the general opinion, had made her guilt plain. So much was happening in the outside world, so little in our domain, that I felt shut in with my little family of children, for I looked upon Carlos and Jacko as mine too.

Roberto was growing taller, though he lacked the stature of the other two. He was becoming more and more like Felipe and he could chatter as fluently in Spanish as in English. This perturbed me, particularly as I knew he was spending a good deal of time in the company of Manuela. Had they heeded my warning?

I think I was guilty of shutting my eyes. I did not want Roberto to turn against me. I believed he thought often of his father and the life he might have had and I wondered whether Manuela had told him that Jake had killed his father.

Yes, I was guilty. I wanted to forget what was past. I did not want to look into the future. I tried to make Roberto more interested in outdoor sports. Carlos excelled at archery and I knew he rejoiced in this because he was looking forward to showing off his skill to Jake when he returned. With a six-foot bow and an arrow of a yard in length he could shoot almost two hundred yards, which was a great feat for a boy of his age. At Pennlyon we had a tennis court and both the boys played good games. They could toss the bar and throw the hammer and were fond of wrestling. We often had visitors from the other side of the Tamar to wrestle with them, for the Cornishmen were the best wrestlers in England.

“When the Captain comes home I shall show him this or that.” Those were words I often heard on both boys’ lips. “When the Captain comes home.” I would notice too the shadow which passed over Roberto’s face at the thought of Jake’s return.

Aubrey and Alice Ennis had no children. They told me that in due course Edwina would come to Trewynd. The Grange would be hers when she was eighteen years, as she was Edward’s only daughter.

I said: “I doubt if she would wish to come down to Devon after the exciting life she must lead with her mother and stepfather near the Court.”

“We’ll have to wait and see,” was the answer to that; and meanwhile the months slipped by.

There was more news from Scotland. Mary and Bothwell had attempted to stand against the nobles of Scotland at Carberry Hill and the result was that Bothwell had fled and Mary was taken prisoner. She was incarcerated in Lochleven, where, we heard, she was forced to abdicate; her son, James, was declared King James VI of Scotland and James Stuart, Earl of Moray, Regent of that unhappy land.

“This is good for England,” said Aubrey Ennis at our dinner table. “There’s little to fear from the fair devil of Scotland now.”

One afternoon I was in the schoolroom with the boys, Mr. Merrimet and Romilly Girling when Carlos, who happened to pass the window, gave a sudden shout of excitement.

“It’s the Lion,” he cried.

We were all at the window. And there far out to sea was a ship.

“We could be mistaken,” I said.

“No,” cried Carlos. “That’s the Lion.” He and Jacko jumped about madly, embracing each other. I had seen the look of fear in Roberto’s eyes and it worried me. I took his hand to reassure him.

There was no doubt that it was the Rampant Lion. She was not limping this time. She lay proudly on the calm waters waiting for the wind.

I went into the house and gave orders in the kitchen. There should be beef and lamb, capons and partridges. They must bestir themselves with the pastry. They must prepare a banquet such as they had not produced for two whole years. The master was home.

All afternoon the ship lay there in sight of land and it was dusk when she sailed into the harbor.

We were on the shore waiting.

I watched Jake being rowed ashore. Bigger than I remembered, his face darkened by sun, his eyes more vividly blue than ever.

He leaped out of the boat and seized me. I was laughing. Yes, truly glad that he was safely back. Carlos and Jacko were jumping madly around us.

“The Captain’s home,” sang out Carlos.

He turned to them and shook them by the shoulders.

“Lord, how they’ve grown!”

He was looking around. There should have been one other to greet him. The child who had been on the way when he left.

I said nothing. I did not wish to spoil these first minutes.

“So you’re glad to see me, eh? So you’ve missed me?”

“We had begun to feel you had been away a long time. You’ve had a good voyage, doubtless.”

“A profitable one. You shall hear. But all in good time. Let me look at you, Cat. I’ve thought of you … day and night I’ve thought of you.”

I was gratified, yet I felt the old need to do battle. It was like coming alive again. There was no doubt that I had missed him.