Текст книги "Witch from the Sea"
Автор книги: Philippa Carr
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
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.
She studied us rather mockingly. “Why,” she said, “you are about to ride too. Why should we not all go together?”
Other guests arrived at the castle. When we rode out it was in a large company. My father hunted the deer some miles inland and made up a party. Fenn was in this and they were away two whole days, for the forest was so far that it took them some hours to get there and they were staying the night at a hunting lodge which belonged to a friend of my father’s who was entertaining the party there.
That meant that Melanie and her mother were left for us to look after. Melanie was very interested in the domestic side of the castle. She met some of the servants. Merry said afterwards that she was a very gracious lady and she hoped Master Connell would not be another such as his father.
I was very drawn to Melanie—perhaps because she was Fenn’s sister. Senara dismissed her as spiritless; but then Senara judged everyone by herself.
When the men returned they brought some fine deer with them and these were to be roasted for the grand banquet which would be given on the night before the Landors returned.
In the afternoon of that day Connell and Melanie went riding together. I went with Senara because she was determined to come. I knew that she was not going to leave me alone with Fenn. I could not help smiling, because I was sure that if Fennimore intended to ask me to marry him he would not be deterred by Senara. I was amazed too by the force of Senara’s affection for me, if it was affection. Or was it perhaps the determination that I should not have what she could not?
There was a great deal of chatter in our bedchamber as we prepared for the banquet. Senara’s gown was of red silk and her petticoat of embroidered damask, and the silk divided in the skirt to give an ample view of this magnificent petticoat; her bodice was tightly laced with gold thread; on her head she wore a jewelled ornament which her mother had given her. When she was dressed she studied me. “You look quite beautiful in your blue velvet,” she told me, her head on one side. “Now, Merry, who is the more beautiful do you think?”
Merry looked embarrassed and said “Do not ask such questions.”
“You discomfort poor Merry,” I said. “You know you are so why do you wish to make her say it?”
“It is always good to speak the truth,” said Senara demurely.
What a night that was. The smell of roasting venison filled the castle; the great table in the hall was laden with food of all descriptions; there was beef and mutton besides the venison; and all manner of pies and pastries of which the people of our part of the country were especially fond. Squab and lammy and taddage all served with clotted cream which made them over rich for my liking; I preferred those savoured with herbs and some of the flowers like marigolds and primroses when they were in season. Before the banquet began dash-an-darras, the stirrup cup, was lavishly taken which meant that the company was in high spirits before it reached the table.
There mead and metheglin were freely served, with sloe gin and wines made from cowslips, and gillyflowers. When the company had eaten its fill and the musicians were about to play, my father stood up and said he had news to impart which gave him great pleasure.
“My friends,” he said, “you are this day celebrating the betrothal of my son Connell and Melanie, whose mother and brother are here with us. Alas, that her father could not be here also, but I promise her she will find in me one who is willing and eager to take his place.”
There was a filling of goblets and glasses and toasts were drunk and Connell and Melanie rose and stood beside my father holding hands in the traditional way.
I caught Fenn’s eye and I could see that he was pleased. Indeed everyone seemed to think the betrothal highly suitable.
Then my father called to the musicians to play and he rose from the table and, taking Melanie by the hand, he opened the dance with her. Connell took Melanie’s mother as his partner and Fenn took me. Others of the company fell in behind us and we danced round the hall. Some of our guests remained at the table drinking and watching us as we danced.
I said to Fenn: “This betrothal pleases you.”
“I like well,” he replied, with a pressure on my hand, “that our families should be united. If your brother makes my sister happy I shall be well content.”
“I trust he will,” I answered fervently.
“There has been a restraint between our families because of my aunt’s marriage to your father. It was wrong of my grandmother to blame him for her death. She was somewhat unbalanced and became very strange before she died. But that is over now. Now there will be friendship between us.”
I was happy dancing with Fenn. I felt certain that our families were going to be united by more than that marriage tie.
Then the happiness of the evening disintegrated. Above the sound of the music came the sound of piercing screams. The dancers stopped; so did the musicians. My father cried angrily: “What means this?” But the screaming went on.
The door at one end of the hall opened into the kitchens and it was from this direction that the screaming came. Senara and I were close behind my father as he flung open the door.
Two of the serving-girls were being held up by others and they were the ones who were making the noise.
“Silence,” cried my father.
So great was their fear of him that he could silence them whatever the state of their minds.
I saw that Merry was there. She curtsied and said: “Master, these two girls have seen something terrible.”
All the guests were crowding round the door and my father said: “You’ll be whipped for this. What think you you are doing, disturbing my guests in this way?”
My stepmother had taken charge. She said: “The girls are beside themselves with fear. You had better tell me what has happened.”
“’Twas what they did see, Mistress,” said Merry.
“Let them speak for themselves,” said my stepmother. “Jane. Bet. What was it?”
The two who had been screaming stared at my stepmother with round frightened eyes. But they had recovered their senses. They were as frightened of her as they were of my father—though for different reasons and I had at times wondered which they feared most, the whipping which he would order or the vague terror which the thought of witchcraft could inspire.
“We did see a light, Mistress.”
“A light! What light?”
“’Twas in the burial ground … ’Twas moving hither and thither, like … a ghostly light. ’Twere not natural.”
“Is that all? You saw a light and you make this noise?”
“Bet, she said to me she’d wager I wouldn’t go with her … and I said I would and then we wished we hadn’t, but we went and … oh, Mistress, I dursen’t speak of it.”
My father said: “A pack of silly girls. Their foolishness will be beaten out of them. What did they see?”
The girls looked at each other; they seemed as though they tried to find their voices and could not and were going off into hysterics again.
I said: “We’ll search the burial ground and see who’s there. It must be someone playing tricks.”
“Let’s go now,” cried Senara, her eyes alight with excitement. “Let’s go and see what it was that frightened those silly girls.”
Our guests were quite clearly amused by what was happening. Senara was chatting gaily to Squire Horgan’s son who was very taken with her.
“It must have been someone’s ghost,” she said. “We’ve lots of ghosts. Melanie, do you like ghosts? You’ll get to know them when you come to live here.”
Melanie smiled serenely and said that she would have to wait until she had made their acquaintance until she could tell Senara whether she liked them.
It was a beautiful moonlight night. “We should have had the musicians out here,” said Senara; “we could have danced in one of the courtyards.”
“The cobbles would have been hard on our feet,” I answered.
Senara came and walked on the other side of Fenn as we came into the burial ground.
“Why did the ghost need the flickering light?” someone asked. “He could see well enough in the moonlight.”
Fenn and I with Senara had walked over to the spot we knew so well. Senara gave a cry and said: “Look.”
There was a stone on the grave of the unknown sailor. On it had been printed in large black letters:
Murdered October 1600
Everyone crowded round to look.
I saw my father clench his hands; he cried: “Good God! Look at that.”
My stepmother came forward and stared at it. “Murdered,” she repeated. “What does it mean?”
“Some joker. By God, a poor joke. He’ll be flayed for this,” cried my father.
He pulled it from the earth and in an excess of anger threw it from him. It landed with a thud among some brambles.
He turned to the company and said: “This is the grave of a sailor who was washed up on our shores. My wife was anxious that he should be given decent burial. Some foolish joker put that stone there, hoping to frighten the maids. Come, we will go back to the hall. Those stupid girls will wish they had not disturbed us, I promise you.”
In the hall he commanded the musicians to play; but some of the gaiety had vanished. I noticed that Fenn was particularly affected.
We sat together on a window seat, neither being in the mood for dancing. I had imagined our sitting thus while he asked me to marry him; but after what we had seen in the burial ground, I realized that Fennimore could think of nothing else. He had so identified that unknown sailor with his father that he was shocked to see that inscription on his grave and he could not get it out of his mind.
The next day, we talked of it.
“You see, Tamsyn,” he said, “it was in October 1600 that my father disappeared.”
“That was the year the sailor was buried. It was the year my mother died. It was on Christmas Day.”
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” said Fenn. “Every time I closed my eyes I could see that stone with those words on it. Who put it there, Tamsyn? Who could have done such a thing?”
“Perhaps we shall discover,” I said.
He was shaken. So was I. I could see that the discovery of that strange stone had made it impossible for him to think of anything else.
He did not mention our betrothal.
And he rode back to Trystan Priory still not having spoken of it.
Yet the wedding was to be in a few weeks’ time and we should all travel to Trystan Priory to celebrate it.
AT HALLOWE’EN
THERE WAS GREAT EXCITEMENT in the preparations for the wedding. Connell was pleased to be the centre of attraction. I was certain that he was not in love with Melanie. Senara said: “How could he be? He’s in love with himself. People can only be in love with one person at a time, and one thing I am certain of, Connell will always be faithful … to himself.”
Whatever his emotions, he liked the thought of getting married.
We did not discover who had put the stone on the unknown sailor’s grave. Strangely enough, my father had not pursued the inquiry as fully as I expected him to. The two hysterical serving girls who had interrupted the company’s entertainment were questioned, but all they would say was that they had seen lights in the burial ground, had been wagered they wouldn’t go and look, and then had gone out and seen the stone.
My father shrugged his shoulders and said it was someone’s idea of a joke and if he discovered who the culprit was he would discover it was something quite different.
Perhaps it was the excitement of the wedding which made people forget, but now the burial ground was included as yet another part of the castle in which ghosts lurked.
Senara, Merry, the seamstress and I were once more busy with our gowns. I was very excited at the prospect of seeing Fenn again. Senara knew. She taunted me when we were in our bedroom at night.
“I know what you’re thinking, Tamsyn,” she said. “You’re thinking he’s going to ask you this time. Perhaps he will. It will be so neat, won’t it? Melanie comes here and you go to Trystan. What an excellent arrangement, they will think. I shan’t. I don’t want that silly dull creature here.”
“I thought you considered me rather dull.”
“In a different way. A foil to my liveliness. She’s different. I don’t want her. Just think when we come back, she will be with us.”
“I believe she will be a very pleasant addition to the household.”
“I shall ignore her.”
“Poor girl, how upset she will be!”
“Don’t mock. What really concerns me is that the laggardly Fenn might at last find the spirit to ask you. You’ll accept him. I know that full well. I never knew any girl throw herself at a young man as you have thrown yourself at him.”
“That’s not true.”
“You can’t see yourself. All adoration and submissiveness! Asking him all the time to marry you.”
“I’m going to sleep.”
“You’re not,” she said.
“If we are to be fresh tomorrow we must sleep. It’s a long way to Trystan.”
“There’s a change in your voice when you mention the house, even. Confess, you are longing to be mistress of it.”
“I refuse to discuss such nonsense.”
“Nonsense it is. Listen to me, Tamsyn Casvellyn. You are not going to marry him. I’ll marry him myself rather. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Suppose I married him instead of you? I will go to Trystan Priory. I will be the mistress there and poor Tamsyn will stay behind in Castle Paling until she is old and crabbed and filled with bitter envy because her blood-sister Senara married the hero of her dreams and lives happily ever after at Trystan Priory with her ten children and her handsome husband whom she has turned into the most attractive man on earth, for she is a witch, remember.”
“Good night, Senara.”
“I will not be dismissed.”
“Will you not? Then go rambling on for I intend to sleep.”
She went on talking and I pretended not to listen, and after a while she was quiet.
The next morning early the pack-horses were loaded with our baggage which contained our wedding finery, and in a big party at the head of which rode my father and my stepmother we set out for Trystan Priory.
What sad news awaited me there! Fenn had been called to Plymouth where he must join his ship. He had wanted to remain to see his sister married but that was not possible. He had to take his ship on a venture from which he hoped to return in six months’ time.
Senara looked at me mischievously.
“I arranged it,” she whispered.
I turned away impatiently.
“When our Queen came from Denmark,” she went on, “the witches of Scotland and Norway raised storms so that she was almost lost at sea. If they could do that why should not someone be sent to sea?”
“You talk such nonsense,” I said shortly.
“You call it that because you don’t understand. Is witchcraft nonsense?”
“Why will you continually harp on witchcraft, Senara? Don’t you see it’s playing with fire.”
“One of the most exciting things in the world, my good blood-sister, is playing with fire.”
“If you don’t get burned,” I snapped, my disappointment over Fenn’s absence robbing me of my usual easy temper.
“Nay, ’tis others who will get burned,” she said enigmatically.
I was uneasy about her, but she had always loved to tease people. She teased Merry about Jan Leward and Jennet about her lovers; but this attitude towards me and Fenn was beginning to upset me.
The wedding was celebrated two days after our arrival. Melanie made a beautiful bride with her blonde hair falling about her shoulders and her gown of fine silk and her kirtle decorated with threads of gold; two of her boy cousins led her to the church; they looked very charming with bride laces and rosemary tied to their sleeves. Connell was already there, led in by two young men who must be unmarried to perform this duty and each of these had bride lace on branches of broom tied to his arms. Carried before Melanie was the bride cup on which was more rosemary, gilded and tied with ribbons of many colours. The Priory musicians followed them into the chapel and all the young girls including myself and Senara followed. Senara and I being closely related to the bridegroom carried big bride cakes.
It was impressive as such ceremonies always were and Melanie looked radiantly happy and Connell well pleased. It would have been a wonderful day for me if only Fenn had been there.
Senara whispered to me as the pair were repeating their vows: “Whose turn next. Yours? Don’t be too sure of that, Tamsyn Casvellyn. It might be mine.”
I ignored her.
The ceremony over, the feasting began; it went on during the day and then we put the couple to bed with a certain amount of ribaldry. My father cried that he hoped they would give him grandsons and “without delay”, he added.
Connell looked a little sheepish and I was amazed by Melanie’s tranquility.
Senara said afterwards that she had come to the marriage bed in absolute ignorance. Within three days we were riding back to Castle Paling, my father, stepmother, my brother and his new bride at the head of the party.
Having Melanie in the house made very little difference. She was so quiet no one noticed her very much. A nonentity was Senara’s verdict. Connell took very little notice of her. He scarcely saw her during the day but shared her bed every night.
“Once she is pregnant,” commented Senara, “he will find his pleasure elsewhere.”
“You are coarse,” I told her.
“My dear Tamsyn, I am not as innocent as you.”
“I trust you are innocent.”
Senara shrieked with laughter. “You would like to know, would you not?”
“I do know.”
“You know nothing. You are blind to what is going on. You are another Melanie. You don’t gossip enough, that’s your trouble. Servants are the best informants. They rarely fail. Then of course I have my special powers.”
“I don’t want to hear about them,” I said, “because I know they do not exist.”
“One of these days the truth will be brought home to you.” She looked mysterious. “Now I am going to brew a spell. Your Fenn is on the sea somewhere. What if I brew up a storm as the witches of Scotland did? What then, eh?”
I felt sick with fear suddenly and Senara went off into peals of laughter.
“You see, you do believe. It’s all very well to pretend you don’t when the result doesn’t matter.”
“Please, Senara, stop this talk of spells and suchlike. Servants overhear. I tell you it is dangerous.” I took her by the shoulders suddenly. She had really frightened me when she had talked of Fenn. “If there should be a scare throughout the neighbourhood, if there should be such a noise about witches and witchfinders came down here, do you not see that you would be suspected … you and …”
She finished for me. “My mother.” She smiled then and her mood changed suddenly. It was soft and loving. “You do care for me, don’t you Tamsyn?”
“You are as my sister.”
“No matter what I do.”
“It would appear so,” I said.
Then she threw her arms about me in the impulsive, lovable manner which I knew so well.
“I taunt you because we belong together. I could never endure to lose you, Tamsyn.”
“Nor shall you,” I promised.
After that she was gentle for a while and when she was in that mood no one could be more charming or loving than Senara. If only she would always be so. She told me once: “There are two sides to my nature, Tamsyn, and on one of them is the witch.”
We had been back from the wedding for a week or so. The sun had shone almost unceasingly for four weeks without a drop of rain, which was unusual for Cornwall. I decided that I would water the plants on the graves for the earth was so dry it was cracking in places.
Since that night when the stone had been found few people went near the burial ground. They were certain that that stone had been placed there by some ghostly hand. Sailors who were drowned at sea often could not rest. It was said that at night one could hear cries coming from the Devil’s Teeth where many a ship had foundered. The fishermen coming in at dusk always avoided that stretch of water, not only because it was dangerous—they did not fear this because they knew those rocks so well—but because they believed it to be haunted.
I took my watering-can and, entering the graveyard, went to that spot where the three graves were. I saw it immediately. I stared and knelt by my mother’s grave. The stone which my father had hurled into the bushes on that night had been discovered. It had now been planted on my mother’s grave.
I stared at it; the words danced before my eyes. “Murdered 1600.”
I pulled at the stone. It came away easily in my hands. I touched the black letters. I knelt by that grave and I thought back to the day when I had gone into my mother’s room and seen her lying there quiet and still.
Pictures flashed in and out of my mind. Had she been afraid before she died? I had slept with her, because my presence had given her comfort. I remembered the occasion I went to her and stood by her bed. She had awakened in fright. Why? Had she been expecting someone else? Did she know someone was planning to murder her?
Murder her! I looked back at the stone. Who had put it there? Why? And after all this time. It was seven years since my mother had been buried here. Why only now should someone put that stone on the unknown sailor’s grave and then on hers?
When I considered that, I was comforted. It was some practical joker with a distorted idea of humour. How could a sailor who was drowned at sea and washed up on our coast have been murdered!
I remember my father’s anger when he had seen it that night. Naturally he was angry because his guests had been disturbed. He had flung the stone into the bushes. Who then had found it and put it on my mother’s grave?
I stared down at it. What could I do with it? Mechanically I laid it on the ground and watered the graves.
I would not leave the stone there. I picked it up and carried it into the house. I put away my watering-can and took the stone up to my room.
I hid it at the back of the court cupboard, first wrapping it up in an old petticoat.
For the rest of the day I kept thinking about it and trying to remember the last months of my mother’s life. How could she have been murdered? Who would have murdered her? And if so, how? There was no sign on her body that she had suffered violence.
Next day I would take the stone with me when I rode out and I would go alone. I would take it far away. I would bury it in a wood and try to think no more of the matter.
What was the use of deluding myself? I knew that I should go on thinking of it.
I sat at my window and looked out to sea. There were the Devil’s Teeth crudely protruding from the water. Someone had once said, when the tide is neither high nor low it looks as though the Devil is smiling. It would be a wicked smile, a satisfied smile, the smile of one who knows that men will be lured to disaster.
I did not throw the stone away because when I came to take it next day it was missing.
I opened the door of the court cupboard and felt for the petticoat. There it was, rolled as I had left it. But it was light and the stone was not there.
I could not believe it. I had wrapped it so that it was hidden. No one could have known it was there. I knelt with the petticoat in my hand and a terrible apprehension crept over me. Could it really be that some other force—not human—had placed that stone first on the sailor’s grave and then on my mother’s? Was it really true that the ghosts of the castle were manifesting their existence in this way?
Hands caught at my throat and I screamed out in terror. My head was jerked back and I was looking up into Senara’s laughing face.
“What are you doing caressing that old petticoat? And I frightened you, did I not? Did you think it was an enemy? Have you such a bad conscience?”
“You … you did startle me.”
“I wondered what you were doing on your knees. I watched for minutes … well, a few seconds … I couldn’t make out why you kept looking at that old petticoat.”
She snatched it from me and unfurled it.
“Look, it’s torn. What possible good is it? That ribbon on it is rather pretty though …”
