Текст книги "Lion Triumphant"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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My mother, though, remained anxious and when we heard that Pope Paul had publicly declared that he was unable to comprehend the hereditary rights of one not born in wedlock, she was quite frightened. The Pope in his declaration went on to say that the Queen of Scots who was married to the Dauphin of France was the nearest legitimate descendant of Henry VII and he suggested that a court be set up under his arbitration to determine the justice of the claims of Elizabeth and Mary to the throne of England.

This Elizabeth naturally haughtily declined.

But my mother’s anxiety increased.

She said to me: “There is going to be a conflict between Protestant and Catholic once more, I fear, and the Queen of Scots will represent the Catholics and Elizabeth the Protestants. Dissension in families … it is what I dread. I have seen too much of it.”

“We shall not quarrel with Honey because she is a Catholic,” I soothed. “I believe she only became one because she wanted to marry Edward.”

“I pray that there will be no trouble,” said my mother.

She visited Honey for a week and when she came back she seemed in better spirits. She had talked to Lord Calperton.

He was old and set in his ways, he had said, but he was going to send young Edward out to the West Country. He had an estate near Plymouth. Edward was fiercer in his beliefs than his father and if he was going to talk rashly—which he might well do—it was better for him to do it as far from the Court as possible.

My mother was distressed at the thought of not seeing Honey so frequently, but she did agree with Lord Calperton that it was safer to be far from the center of conflict.

So through that summer plans were made for Honey and her husband to leave for Trewynd Grange in Devonshire; and I was to go with them.

I said to my mother: “You’ll be lonely without us both.”

She took my face in her hands and said: “But you’ll be happier there for a time … just for a time, Cat. You’ve got to recover yourself and start afresh.” I hated to leave her, but I knew she was right.

That June about a month before we were to set out, the French King Henri Deux was killed in a tournament and his son François became King. Mary of Scotland was his wife, so she became Queen of France. My mother said: “This makes it more dangerous, for Mary has taken the title of Queen of England.”

Rupert who was there at the time—as he often was these days—said that while she was in France it was safe enough. The danger would be if ever she came to Scotland, which as Queen of France she would scarcely do.

I was listless, not caring much whether I went to Devon or stayed at the Abbey. I wanted to remain because of my mother; on the other hand I thought it would be good not to have to see Aunt Kate so frequently and to get away from the scene of so many bitter memories. But I should be back in a month or two, I promised myself.

It was a long and wearisome journey and by the time I reached Trewynd Grange the summer was drawing to its end. I think that from the moment I set eyes on the Grange I felt a little farther away from my tragedy; the house was a more comfortable house than the Abbey. It was gray stone, two centuries old with pleasant gardens. It was built around a courtyard and each end was a turret tower. From these windows there was the magnificent view over the Hoe to the sea and this I found interesting. The hall was not large by Abbey and Remus Castle standards, but there was something cozy about it in spite of the two peeps high in the wall through which, without being seen, people in the little alcoves above could spy on who was below. The chapel was dank and cold and rather repellent. Perhaps I had become rather fearful of chapels because of the conflicts in our family—and indeed throughout the country. The stone-flagged floor was worn with the tread of those long since dead; the altar was in a dark corner and the lepers’ squint was now used by those servants who were suffering from some pox and couldn’t mingle with the rest of the household. It was a long rambling house rather than a tall one; and its grandeur really lay in its four turrets.

I was amused to see Honey chatelaine in her own house. Marriage had naturally changed her. She glowed with an inner satisfaction. Edward doted on her and Honey was the sort of person who demands love. She was unhappy without it; she wanted to be the one loved and cherished beyond others. She should have been contented, for I never saw a man so devoted to his wife—unless it was Lord Remus when he was alive with Kate.

I could talk frankly to Honey. I knew that she hated my father as she hated no one else. She had never forgiven him for not wanting her in the household and ignoring her when she was a child.

She wanted to talk of him, but I wouldn’t listen because I was unsure of my feeling for him. I knew now that not only was he my father but Carey’s too and that was why we could not marry; I knew that he, while posing as a saint whose coming had been a miracle, was in fact creeping into Kate’s bed at night—or she into his—in the very house where my mother slept. And all the time Kate was pretending to be her dear friend and cousin.

I think Honey had been primed by my mother to treat me with care and Honey would always attempt to please my mother. Perhaps my mother had given her other advice concerning me; I was inclined to think she had, for since I had come to Trewynd Grange Honey had given several dinner parties and invited the local squires.

It was the day after that disturbing encounter on the Hoe when she said: “Sir Penn Pennlyon and his son will be dining with us tomorrow. They are not very distant neighbors. Sir Penn is a man of power in these parts. He owns several ships and his father was a trader before him.”

I said: “That ship that came in a few days …”

“Yes,” said Honey. “It’s the Rampant Lion. All their ships are Lions. There’s the Fighting Lion, the Old Lion and the Young Lion. Whenever you see a Lion ship you can guess it belongs to the Pennlyons.”

“I saw a man on the Hoe and heard him called Captain Lion.”

“That would be Captain Pennlyon. I haven’t met him. I know he’s home, though. He’s been at sea for more than a year.”

“So,” I said, “they are coming here!”

“Edward is of the opinion that we must be neighborly. Their place is but a stone’s throw from here. You can see it from the west turret.”

I took the first opportunity of going up to the west turret. I could see a great house, high on the cliff, looking out to sea.

I wondered what he would say when he realized that the young woman whom he had insulted—because I insisted that was what he had done—was a guest of the Ennises. I was rather looking forward to the encounter.

It was autumn and the valerian and sea pinks were still flourishing; it had been a mild summer and I had been wondering what winter would be like in Trewynd Grange. I could not make the journey back to London until the spring. This was a thought which depressed me; I was restless and uneasy; I wanted to go home; I wanted to be with my mother to talk endlessly of my troubles and receive her sympathy. I don’t think I really wanted to forget. There was a certain luxury in being miserable and constantly reminding myself of what I had lost.

And because this man was coming to dinner I stopped thinking of Carey for a while—just as I had on the Hoe.

What should I wear? I asked myself. Honey had brought many grand dresses with her, for she was mindful of her beauty, whereas I had gathered together my garments in a somewhat listless fashion; secretly I regretted that now. I chose a velvet dress which flowed from my shoulders in a graceful manner. It was not very fashionable, for in the last year people had begun to wear whaleboned busks and hoops, which I thought not only ridiculous but rather ugly; and I could not bear to be tight-laced, which was becoming the mode. Instead of wearing one’s hair in flowing curls fashionable, women were now frizzing it and wearing all kinds of ornaments in it.

But this was not Court circles and so perhaps one could afford to be out of fashion. Honey herself always dressed in what was most becoming to her beauty. She had a great sense of this and seemed to pay a secret homage to it. She too had rejected the frizzy hairstyles and the whalebones.

Just before six of the clock our guests arrived. Honey and Edward were in the hall waiting to receive them; I stood with them, and as I heard the horses’ arrival in the courtyard I felt my heart begin to beat faster.

A big red-faced man was striding into the hall. He had a look of that other—who came after him—an extremely tall man with massive square shoulders and a booming voice. Everything that went with Sir Penn Pennlyon was big. I concentrated on him because I was not going to show the slightest interest in his son.

“Welcome,” said Edward, looking slight and pale before these giants.

Sir Penn’s twinkling blue eyes darted about him; he seemed to be amused by his host and hostess.

“Marry!” he cried, taking Honey’s hand and drawing her to him giving her a loud kiss on the lips. “If this bain’t the prettiest lady in Devon I’ll eat the Rampant Lion, that I will, barnacles and all.”

Honey blushed becomingly and said: “Sir Penn, you must meet my sister.”

I curtsied. The blue eyes were on me. “Another little beauty, eh?” he said. “Another little beauty. Two of the prettiest ladies in Devon.”

“It’s kind of you to call me such, sir,” I said. “But I’ll not ask you to swallow your ship if you should be proved wrong.”

He laughed, great bellowing laughter. He slapped his hands on his thighs. He was more than a little crude, I guessed.

And behind him was his son, who was now greeting Honey before it was my turn to stand face to face with him.

The recognition was instant. He took my hand and kissed it. “We’re old friends,” he said.

I thought contemptuously: In thirty years’ time he will be exactly like his father.

Honey was looking surprised.

“I saw Captain Pennlyon when I was on the Hoe,” I said coldly without looking at him.

“My sister is fascinated by ships,” said Honey.

“Well!” Sir Penn was regarding me with approval. “She knows a good thing when she sees it. Young lady, there’s only one thing I know more beautiful than a ship and that’s a pretty woman.” He nudged his son. “Jake here agrees with me.”

“We want to hear about your voyage,” said Honey politely. “Let us go into the punch room. Supper will be served shortly.”

She led the way up the three stone stairs past the dining room to the punch room and there we sat while Edward’s servants brought malmsey for us to drink. Honey was very proud of fine Venetian glasses, which were very fashionable and which she had brought with her. I imagined the Pennlyons had never seen anything so fine.

We sat rather stiffly on our chairs, the tapestry back and seats of which had been worked by Edward’s great-aunt. I thought the chair might break under Sir Penn, for he sat with little thought for its fragility and Honey threw a glance at me as though to say, We have to get used to country manners.

Sir Penn said what a fine thing it was to have neighbors of the quality to bring their fine Venetian glass for them to drink out of. His eyes twinkled as he spoke as though he were laughing at us and in a way despised us—except Honey of course and perhaps me. Both of them—father and son—had an insolence in their looks which suggested that they were assessing our personal attributes in a manner which was slightly disturbing.

“And how long are you staying here?” he wanted to know of Edward.

Edward replied evasively that so much depended on circumstances. His father had wished him to come and look after the estates here for a while. It would depend on what happened on the Surrey estate.

“Ah,” said Sir Penn, “you noble families have your seats in every part of the kingdom. Why, young sir, there must be times when you wonder whether you’re a Surrey or a Devon man or maybe there is some other county to claim you.”

“My father has estates in the North,” said Edward.

“Marry! Why, you’ve a foot in every part of the Queen’s realm, young man.”

“By no means,” said Edward. “And might I not say that your ships sail on every known part of the ocean?”

“You can say it, sir, you can say it. And Jake will tell you that it’s so. Just back he is from a long voyage, but he’s too taken with the company to give voice.”

Jake said: “The company delights me as you see.” And he was looking straight at me, mocking because here he was and I had said it was not likely that he would be invited. “But I’ll confirm it’s true that I have but recently returned from a voyage.”

“My sister was excited when she saw your ship come in. She sees the ships come in from her window, and never seems to tire of it.”

Jake had brought his chair closer to mine. They had not the manner which we had come to expect. These people were lacking the niceties of behavior; they were more frank than we were, coarser too.

“So you liked my ship,” he said.

“I like all ships.”

“That’s the right spirit,” he said. “And you’ve never had the chance of seeing them before.”

“We were close to the river. I often saw boats sailing by.”

He laughed derisively. “Wherries and tugs,” he said.

“And royal barges. I have seen the Queen on her way to her Coronation.”

“And now you’ve seen the queen of ships.”

“Yours?” I asked.

“The Rampant Lion, none other.”

“So she is the queen, is she?”

“I’ll take you out to her. I’ll show you. You’ll see for yourself then.” He leaned toward me. I drew away and looked at him coldly, which seemed to amuse him. “When will you come?” he asked.

“I doubt I ever should.”

He raised eyebrows rather darker than his hair, which made the blue eyes more startling.

“You never thought to see me here, yet here I am. And now you tell me you never will come aboard my ship. I’ll warrant you’ll be my guest there within a week. Come, I’ll wager you.”

“I do not wager.”

“But you’ll come all the same.” He was bending toward me so that his face was close to my own. I attempted to look at him with indifference, but I was not very convincing. He at least was aware of the effect he had had on me. I drew back and his eyes mocked. “Yes,” he went on, “on my ship. Less than a week today. It’s a wager.”

“I have already told you I do not wager.”

“We’ll discuss terms later.”

I thought I should not care to be alone with such a man on his ship.

We were interrupted by the arrival of another guest, Mistress Crocombe, a simpering middle-aged woman, and when she had joined us in a glass of malmsey one of the servants announced that supper was ready and we went down the stairs to the dining room.

It was a beautiful room, one of the loveliest in the Grange I thought it. Through the leaded windows we could see the courtyard; the walls were hung with tapestries depicting the Wars of the Roses; the table was tastefully laid with more of the Venetian glass and gleaming silver dishes. Honey had made a centerpiece of various herbs which she grew in her herb garden and the effect was gracious.

Edward sat at the head of the table and Honey at the foot. On Honey’s right was Sir Penn and on her left Jake; on Edward’s right I sat and Miss Crocombe on his left, which meant that I was seated next to Jake and Miss Crocombe next to his father.

Could it be that this Captain Pennlyon is being brought forward as another possible suitor for me? I wondered. The thought angered me. Did they think they were going to make me forget Carey by producing a succession of men who could only remind me of Carey because of the differences between them?

Honey had certainly some very fine cooks. The food was excellently served; there was beef and lamb as well as sucking pig, a boar’s head and an enormous pie; and she had taken the trouble to introduce that pleasant custom of honoring the guests which we followed at home. One of the pies was in the form of a ship and on it had been placed by thin layers of paste the words “The Rampant Lion.” The delight of the Pennlyons when they saw this was almost childish; they laughed and ate great chunks of it. I had never seen such appetites as those two men had. The food was washed down often noisily with muscadel and malmsey, those wines which came from Italy and the Levant and were growing so fashionable.

They talked too, dominating the conversation. Miss Crocombe clearly adored Sir Penn, which was strange considering she was a somewhat prim spinster in her late thirties and certainly not the kind to attract such a man as Sir Penn whose appetites in all things I could imagine would be voracious. He was regarding Honey in a manner which I thought quite lascivious and occasionally he would throw a glance at me, amused, half-regretful, and the implication I put on that was that he was leaving me to the attention of his son. I thought his manners unpardonable. It seemed of no importance to him that Honey was the wife of his host.

Honey, however, seemed not to notice, or perhaps she was so used to blatant admiration that she accepted it as normal.

I asked Jake where his last voyage had taken him.

“Out to the Barbary Coast,” he said. “What a voyage! We had our troubles. Gales and seas enough to overturn us and such damage done to the ship that at one time it seemed we would have to limp home. But we braved it and we got into harbor and we tricked ourselves out to continue as we had meant.”

I said: “You must face death a thousand times during one voyage.”

“A thousand times is true, Mistress. That is why we love life so much. And do you not face death on land now and then?”

I was grave. I thought of my mother’s anxious face and I remembered that my grandfather had lost his head for no reason than that he had sheltered a friend and my grandmother’s second husband had died at the stake because he held certain opinions.

I said: “’Tis true. No one can be completely sure on one day that he or she will live to the next.”

He leaned toward me. “Therefore we should enjoy each day as it comes along and the devil take the next.”

“So that is your philosophy. Do you never plan for what is to come?”

His bold eyes looked into mine. “Oh … often. Then I make sure that what I wish for comes to pass.”

“You are very certain of yourself.”

“A sailor must always be certain of himself. And I’ll tell you another thing. He’s always in a hurry. You see time is something he cannot afford to waste. When will you come to see my ship?”

“You must ask my sister and her husband if they would care to make the inspection.”

“But I was inviting you.”

“I should like to hear of your adventures.”

“On the Barbary Coast? They don’t make a pretty story.”

“I did not expect they would.” I looked across the table at Mistress Crocombe, who was coyly begging Sir Penn to tell her of his adventures on the high seas. He began to tell fantastic stories which I was sure were meant to shock us all. It seemed that he had more adventures than Sinbad himself. He had struggled with sea monsters and fought with savages; he had landed his craft on the coasts and brought natives ashore to work in his galleys; he had quelled a mutiny, ridden a storm; there was nothing he had not done, it seemed; and everything he said was overlaid with innuendo. When he led a little party of his men into an African hamlet I saw those men seizing the women, submitting them to indignity, pillaging, robbing.

Miss Crocombe covered her eyes with dismay and blushed hotly. She was a very silly woman and made her designs on Sir Penn too blatant. Did she really think he was going to marry her? I found it embarrassing to watch them together.

Tenerife was mentioned. It was the largest of what were called the Dog Islands because when they were first discovered so many dogs were there. Now they were known as the Canaries.

Tenerife was in the hands of the Spaniards.

“Spanish dogs!” growled Sir Penn. “I’d beat them all out of the ocean, that I would, aye and will … I and a few more like me.” He became fierce suddenly, all banter dropped. I saw the cruel gleam in his eyes. “God’s Death!” he cried, hitting the table with his fist so that the Venetian glasses trembled. “These dogs shall be swept off the seas, for I tell you this, my friends, it is either them or us. There’s no room for us both.”

“The oceans are wide,” I said, for there was something about these men which made me want to contradict them and prove them wrong if possible, “and much may yet be discovered.”

He glared at me and his eyes had narrowed—little pinpoints of blue fire between the weather wrinkles. “Then we’ll discover them, Madam. Not they. And wherever I see them I’ll bring my guns out; I’ll blow them off the sea; I’ll take their treasure ships from them and bring them where they belong to be.”

“Treasure which they have discovered?” I said.

“Treasure!” It was Jake beside me. “There’s gold in the world … it only has to be brought home.”

“Or filched from those who have already found it?”

Honey and Edward were looking at me in dismay. I didn’t care. I felt some tremendous surge sweeping over me. I had to fight these men, father and son, brigands and pirates both, for that was what they were; and when I talked to them I was excited, alive as I hadn’t been since I knew that I had lost Carey.

“By God,” said Sir Penn, “it would seem the lady is a friend of the Dons.”

“I have never seen one.”

“Swarthy devils. I’d cut the liver and lights out of ’em. I’d send ’em down to the deep sea bed, for ’tis where they belong to be. Don’t side with the Spaniards, child, or you’ll be going against what’s natural.”

“I was siding with no one,” I retorted, “I was saying that if they had found the treasure it was theirs just as if you had found it it would be yours.”

“Now don’t you bring schoolroom logic into this, me dear. Findings bain’t keepings when it comes to Spanish gold. Nay, there’s one place where treasure belongs to be and that’s in an English ship and we’re going to drive the Spaniards from the sea with might and main.”

“There are many of them and I believe they have made great discoveries.”

“There are many of them, true, and we are going to see that there are not so many, we are going to take their discoveries from them.”

“Why do you not make some yourself instead?”

“Instead! We shall make them, never fear; we shall make and take. Because I tell you this, little lady, the sea belongs to us and no poxy Don is going to take one fathom of it from us.”

Sir Penn sat back in his chair red-faced, almost angry with me. Mistress Crocombe looked a little afraid. I felt the color in my cheeks; Honey was signaling with her eyes for me to be silent.

Jake said: “The old Queen died in time. Our Sovereign Lady Elizabeth is of a different temper.”

“By God, yes,” cried Sir Penn. “We’ll defend her on sea and land. And if any poxy Don turns his snout toward these shores … by God, he’ll wish he never had.”

“We can guess what would have happened had Mary lived,” went on Jake. “We’d have had the Inquisition here.”

“We never would have. Thank God there are men of Cornwall and Devon who would have stood together and put a stop to that,” declared Sir Penn. “And God be praised we have a new Queen and she understands well that the people of this land will have nought of Papists. Mary burned our Protestant martyrs at the stake. And by God, I’d burn alive those Papists who would attempt to bring Popery back to England.”

Edward had turned pale. For a moment I thought he was going to protest. Honey was gazing at her husband, warning and imploring. Be careful! she was saying; and indeed he must be. I wondered what would happen if these fierce men knew that their host and hostess were members of that faith which they despised.

I heard myself say in a rather high-pitched voice: “My stepfather was one of those martyrs.”

The tension relaxed then. We had suffered such a death in the family; the implication was that we were of one belief.

Sir Penn lifted his glass and said: “To Our Sovereign Lady who has made her intentions clear.”

We could all drink to the Queen and we did so. Equanimity was restored.

We talked of the Coronation and the two men were ready to listen for a few minutes; and after that we went on to speak of local affairs, of the country and the prospects for hunting the deer; and an invitation was extended to us to visit Lyon Court.

It was late in the evening when the men left; and when I was in my room I found that I was wide awake and I sat at my turret window, knowing it was useless to try to sleep.

There was a knock on my door and Honey came in.

She was dressed in a long blue bedgown and her lovely hair was loose about her shoulders.

“So you’re not abed?” she said.

She sat down and looked at me.

“What did you think of them?”

“Crude,” I replied.

“They are far from London and the Court. They are different of course.”

“It’s not only their ill manners. They are arrogant.”

“They are men who command rough sailors. It would be necessary for them to show authority.”

“And intolerant,” I said. “How fierce the father was when he talked of the Spaniards. How foolish they are. As if there is not enough of the world for them all to have what they want.”

“People always want what other people have. It’s a law of nature.”

“Not of nature,” I said. “It’s a man-made custom, indulged in by the foolish.”

“The Captain was impressed by you, Catharine.”

“It is of no moment to me if he was.”

“He is a disturbing fellow … they both are.”

“The father looked as though he would carry you off under Edward’s nose.”

“Even he would not go as far as that.”

“I think he would go as far as it is possible to go—his son too. I wouldn’t trust either of them.”

“Well, they are our neighbors. Edward’s father said we must be neighborly and particularly with the Pennlyons, who are a power in these parts.”

“I hope we don’t see them again in a hurry.”

“It would surprise me if we did not. I have an idea that the Captain may come courting you, Catharine.”

I laughed derisively. “He would do well to stay away. Honey, you have arranged this.”

“Dear Catharine, do you want to mourn forever?”

“It is not what I want, Honey. It is what I must do.”

“If you married and had children you would forget Carey.”

“I never should.”

“Then what do you propose to do? Mourn all your life?”

“What I propose to do is ask you not to parade these country boors to inspect me. Please, Honey, no more of it.”

“You will change. It is just that you have not met the right one yet.”

“I certainly did not tonight. How could you imagine that such a man could arouse any desire in me but to get as far from him as possible?”

“He is handsome, powerful, rich … at least I imagine so. You could look far before you found a more suitable parti.”

“There speaks the smug matron. Honey, I shall go home to the Abbey if you make any more attempts to find me a husband.”

“I promise not to.”

“I suppose Mother suggested that you should.”

“She grieves for you, Catharine.”

“I know she does. And it is no fault of hers, bless her dear heart. Oh, let us not speak of my miseries. Shall we indeed be obliged to visit this Lyon Court? They would seem to be obsessed by their connection with that animal.”

“They have taken the figure of the lion as their insignia. They say there is a lion on all their ships. They are an amazing family. They have come to great power in the second and third generation. I heard that Sir Penn’s father was a humble fisherman plying his trade from a little Cornish fishing village. Then he made several boats and sent men out to fish for him; and he had more and more boats and became a sort of king of his village. He crossed the Tamar and set up business here. Sir Penn grew up as the crown prince, as it were, and he acquired more ships and gave up the calling of fishermen and went out into the world. He was given his knighthood by Henry VIII, who himself loved ships and foresaw that adventurers like the Pennlyons could bring good to England.”

I yawned.

“You are tired?” said Honey.

“Tired of these Pennlyons.”

“I doubt it will not be long before they are at sea, the son at least.”

“It will be a pleasure not to see him.”

Honey stood up and then she gave the real reason for her visit.

“You gathered they are fanatical in their religious beliefs.”

“I did, and what astonished me was that they should have any.”

“We shall have to be careful. It would not be wise for them to know that we celebrate the Mass in this house.”

“I am so weary of these conflicts,” I assured her. “You can rely on me to say nothing of the matter.”

“It would seem,” said Honey, “that there is a movement from the True Religion.”

“Which is the true?” I said angrily. “You say the road to Rome is the right one because Edward believes that and it was necessary for you to before you married him. We know that members of our own family take the Protestant view. Who is right?”

“Of course Edward is right … we are right.”

“In matters of religion it seems all people believe they are right and all who disagree with them wrong. For this very reason I refuse to side with either.”

“Then you are without religion.”

“I think I can be a better Christian by not hating those who disagree with me. I do not care for doctrines, Honey. They bring too much suffering. I will go along with neither. I’m tired now, and in no mood for a theological discussion tonight.”

She rose.

“All I beg of you, Catharine, is be careful.”

“You may trust me.”

She kissed me lightly on the cheek and went out; and I thought how fortunate she was with her adoring husband, her startling beauty and her certainty that she had found the True Faith.

But my thoughts were almost immediately back with our visitors. I looked out across the sea and there was his ship at anchor; soon I thought, I shall be at this window watching it sail away. And I pictured him on the deck, shouting orders, legs astride, defying anyone to disobey him; I saw him with a cutlass in his hand boarding a Spanish ship; I saw the blood run from the cutlass; I heard his triumphant laugh; and I saw him with the golden coins in his hands, letting them run through his fingers while his eyes gleamed as covetously as they had when they had rested on me.