Текст книги "Witch from the Sea"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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“I could change,” she said, “perhaps. He talked to me about it. It is inspiring … in a way.”

“Inspiring to you! I never knew anyone who loved finery as you do. One day you want to be a witch. The next a puritan!”

“Dickon talked to me about the sect. They are very noble. The Deemsters are fond of him. They love converts. You see, when he went there he was such a beautiful young man, with his feet firmly planted on the road to hell. They have saved his soul. You know how attractive anything that you have saved is.”

She had learned something about the puritans. The Deemsters came from Lincolnshire. Master Deemster’s mother had been Dutch and they had ties with Holland. “They believe that life should be simplicity,” she said, “and abhor all papist idols.”

“As we do.”

“For the puritans their religion is the most important event in their lives. They care for nothing but their simple goodness. They do not believe in the riches of this life. They believe we should live humbly, simply, and that all vanity is an offence to God. They would die for their beliefs.”

“I pray God they do not have to. The King is against them and has sworn to harm them.”

“They know that well.”

“He believes that they are as the Scottish Presbytery, of which he has had some experience, and he has said that that agrees as well with a monarchy as God with the Devil.”

Senara laughed as though this pleased her. I think she was enamoured of the puritans because by pursuing their brand of religion they courted danger.

“Moreover,” I went on warningly, “the King has said at the Hampton Court Conference that he will harry the puritans out of land or else do worse. They must either conform or take the consequences.”

“Oh yes, they know this and they care not for his threats. They are planning action. One thing they will never do is give up their religion.”

I could see she was excited by her adventure and that this was in some measure due to the fact that the puritans were in danger.

I was very disturbed indeed when I discovered that she had known Dickon was at Leyden Hall. One of the servants had found out that he was there and told her. She had staged her little adventure for Hallowe’en—what a fearless reckless girl she was!—and had pretended to be lost that she might see Dickon and talk with him.

From then on she talked of him a good deal and often called at Leyden Hall. She began to learn a great deal about the puritans and their beliefs and aims, which was strange considering she was Senara.

THE TURRET LIGHTS

IT WAS CHRISTMAS DAY, my eighteenth birthday and Senara’s sixteenth. My stepmother had invited people to the castle. She seemed eager to find husbands for us both, and particularly for me perhaps because I was two years older.

During the last weeks Senara liked to go off alone. I believed that she was riding to Leyden Hall. She was becoming more and more interested in the new sect who were called the puritans. It amused me because there could be no one less like a puritan than Senara.

She had taken the feather out of her riding hat and wore it plain. She would put on a demure expression which ill-matched her brilliant long eyes with the mischief in them. Of course I had never been absolutely sure of Senara.

She talked to me about the puritans and often she would become quite earnest.

“They want to make it all as simple as possible, Tamsyn,” she said. “And religion should be simple, shouldn’t it? Do you think God wants all that ceremony? Of course He doesn’t. One should worship Him in the simplest possible way. The church is always ready to persecute those who don’t conform.”

“You are really interested, Senara,” I said. “You’ve changed since you arranged to get lost near Leyden Hall.”

“I arranged it, as you know,” she said. “I couldn’t believe Dickon had become a puritan. I had to go and see.”

“Surely he is not making one of you?”

“Can you imagine me … a puritan!”

“That is something beyond my powers of imagination.”

“No, I should never be a puritan at heart, but I admire them in a way. Think of Dickon.”

“It seems to me you think of him a good deal.”

“He is so beautiful … even now in his plain clothes and his curls pressed out he is still more handsome than any other man … even your Fenn—who has gone away without declaring his feelings—even he looks quite ugly compared with Dickon.”

“You are bewitched by him.”

“You forget I am the one who does the bewitching.”

“So it is he who is bewitched by you.”

“I think that in spite of his new puritan ideas, he is a little. For I am a very bewitching person, Tamsyn.”

“In your own opinion, certainly.”

“It is so interesting,” she said, “and so dangerous. It has been since the Hampton Court Conference.”

“Keep away from religion that is dangerous.”

“What a thing to say! Surely that is quite cynical. How can people help what they believe, and if you believe, shouldn’t you defend that belief with your life if need be?”

“Our country and my family have been torn by religious beliefs. One of my ancestors lost his head in the reign of Henry VIII, another was burned at the stake in the reign of Mary. We don’t want any more religious conflict in the family.”

“You’re a coward, Tamsyn.”

“That may be but that is how I want it.”

“They are talking of going away.”

“Who, Dickon and the Deemsters?”

“Yes, to Holland. They can worship there as they wish. Perhaps one day they will go far away and make a land of their own. They talk about it a good deal.”

I laughed.

“What amuses you?”

“That you, Senara, of all people, should be caught up with puritans. Of course it is not the puritans, I know. Can it really be Dickon?”

“How could it be? I would never be allowed to marry a man who was our music master and now grows vegetables and works for a family like the Deemsters.”

“I cannot see you in the humble role of wife to a man in such a lowly position.”

“Nay, nor could I. For I came from such nobility that is far beyond anything I have had here.”

“Oh, how do you know this?”

“My mother has told me. In Spain she moved in very noble circles—royal, in fact. So you are right when you say I could not marry Dickon.”

“Don’t look sad. It’s the first day of Christmas. We shall make merry this night. You will dance and sing for the company and no one will be merrier than you.”

“It will be a very different Christmas at Leyden Hall,” she said.

“I can picture it. They will make of it a purely religious occasion. There will be no feasting, dancing and making merry, as we do, no King for the Night, no blessing on the hall, no mummers, no carol singers. This is more to your taste, Senara.”

“It is!” she cried; and that night she was beautiful in a blue velvet gown, her dark hair caught back in a gold band,

I was not the only one who thought her the loveliest of all present. There were several young men who did and would doubtless in due course ask for her hand, which was what her mother wanted.

There was Thomas Grenoble for one, who came from London and was connected with the Court. He was young, rich and good-looking. I knew he was one my stepmother had chosen for Senara. He could do the latest dances which she quickly mastered and I wondered whether as she danced with Thomas Grenoble she thought of Dickon. If she did she gave no sign of it.

Melanie had been brought up by her mother to be a good housewife and I don’t think our household matters ever went so smoothly as they did that Christmas. Melanie was quite unobtrusive and gentle; Connell was inclined to ignore her and flirt with some of the young women guests, but Melanie remained unruffled. She reminded me very much of Fenn and how I wished that he were with us!

I mentioned him to her and asked if she had heard from her mother when he was expected back.

“It was not to be a long voyage,” she answered. “My mother thinks he will be back by the spring.”

That gave me new hope. I was just waiting for the spring.

I was still looking for my mother’s diary and when it seemed that I had looked in every possible place I began to think that it had never existed. Jennet was known to exaggerate, to romanticize, particularly now that she was getting older. Had she seen my mother writing once or twice and imagined she had been writing something which she wanted to hide? That seemed very likely.

And my mother’s death? People did die suddenly when they were not very old. One heard of them now and then and no one was skilled enough in medicine to know the cause. If one was in Court circles and known to have enemies people thought of poison. I wondered how many men and women had been believed to be poisoned when they had died of natural causes.

Then on some days my feelings would change and I would be certain that my mother had not died naturally. I could not forget the stone I had found on her grave. And who could have removed it from the cupboard in which I had placed it?

That was what had started my speculations. It was certainly mysterious. My mood fluctuated. At times I would think it was nonsense; then at others the certainty that my mother had not died naturally would be with me. Then I would start to look again for the journal, for if there was a secret would it not be in that? But if she had not known she was about to die how could it have been! But had she known? Why should she have been afraid during those last days of her life?

It would be in the book and if that book existed it must be in the castle.

I could think of nowhere in her sitting-room where it could be. I had searched that and the settle had yielded nothing. In the bedroom which she had shared with my father and was now that of him and stepmother? That had been refurbished after my mother’s death. Surely if the book had come to light it would have been mentioned—or destroyed perhaps.

It was all mysterious and long ago. Yet at times the urge to discover that book came back strongly to me.

There were turret rooms in the towers of both Nonna and Crow where perhaps something could be hidden. In one of my exploratory moods I decided to look.

In those rooms there were some very old pieces of furniture, among them several stools and a table and a pallet or two. The stools were interesting because they were made like boxes and articles could be stored under where one sat.

When I was in the turrets with their long narrow windows I was always fascinated to look out to sea and my eyes invariably came to rest on the jagged rocks of the Devil’s Teeth. A gruesome sight! I was not surprised that they were said to be haunted.

These rooms were used fairly frequently, for high in the walls of those facing the sea were windows in which lanterns hung. They were reached by step-ladders which were kept in each room so that they could be easily reached. The lanterns had been hanging there for many years and had been placed there by one of my ancestors. He was known as Good Casvellyn in contrast, I had heard, to so many of the family who were far from good. The Devil’s Teeth had always been responsible for a good share of wrecks along our coast and Good Casvellyn had had the idea that if he carefully placed lighted lanterns in the top of his towers of Nonna and Seaward, it was possible that they could be seen some way out to sea and the sailors who saw them would know they were close to the treacherous Devil’s Teeth. Therefore they would steer clear of them.

I liked to think that the kindly action started by Good Casvellyn had saved the lives of sailors. Of course it often happened that in spite of the lights there were disasters on the rocks.

I was always anxious when I heard the wind rising and the spring tides were up and there was a storm at sea. How many ships had foundered on that grinning mouth? I imagined that many a sailor who was unsure of his whereabouts and saw the lights in Nonna and Seaward Towers blessed Good Casvellyn for his lights.

It was the duty of one of the men from Seaward to make sure that each night they were shining out to sea.

I had searched everywhere in the tower rooms at Nonna’s. I examined the stools with the greatest care because I suspected that in one of them there must be a secret compartment.

It was soon after Christmas that I started to search again, and the more I thought of the matter, the more certain I became that one of the stools up there could be a hiding-place for those papers. I examined them all. There was indeed a secret compartment in one of them which made my heart beat fast but there was nothing in it when I finally succeeded in opening it.

I sat on the floor feeling exasperated. There is nothing so maddening as to search for something when you are not even sure of its existence.

Then suddenly as I sat there I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. I sensed rather than heard that someone was close watching. I stood up. There was no one in the room.

“Who’s there?” I said in a sharp aggressive voice which betrayed my fear.

There was no answer. I hurried to the door and threw it open. I was looking straight at the spiral staircase which wound a few steps from the top so that if someone were just a dozen steps down one would not see that person. But I did hear a light footstep and I knew that someone had been watching me.

Why had he or she not answered when I called? Why was it necessary to watch me unobserved?

There came to me then the thought that someone knew what I was looking for, and that that someone was very anxious to know if I had found it.

The light was beginning to fade. I looked round the room. Soon the man who was in charge of the lantern would arrive to light it. I did not want him to find me here. Nor did I wish to stay here. That step on the stairs had unnerved me. For if someone was eager to know whether I had found the papers, why should this be so?

Was someone afraid that I would find them? Was someone else looking for them even more fervently than I was? If so, there could be but one reason for this. That person might be afraid of what was in them.

Who would be? The one who had killed my mother.

Thomas Grenoble called often. Senara would play the lute to him and sing languorous songs of love.

She had another suitor too. He was a young man with hair and eyes as dark as her own. He was a visitor at Squire Marden’s house. Some years older than Senara, he was intense and passionate I should imagine. He was not English though his name was not really foreign. He was Lord Cartonel. He spoke with a rather careful accent and some of his expressions were un-English.

He told us that he had been in several embassies for the late Queen and that he had lived abroad for many years, which was why there appeared to be something a little foreign about him.

There was no doubt that my stepmother admired him and I guessed that she had chosen either him or Thomas Grenoble as Senara’s husband.

Senara was delighted to have these two admirers.

“It is always good,” she said, “to have a choice.”

“And what of Dickon?” I asked.

“Dickon! You can’t seriously think that I am considering him.”

“If he were of noble birth …”

Her face flushed with sudden anger. “But he is not!” she said sharply and changed the subject.

It was late February when Melanie said to me one day: “My brother is home. I have a letter here from my mother. She says he will be staying for a while before his next voyage.”

“I wonder if he will call here.”

“I think he will want to,” she answered, smiling her gentle smile.

I used to wake up every morning after that saying to myself: “Perhaps he’ll come today.” Whenever I heard arrivals I would dash to my window and look down longing to see him.

February was out. He had been home three weeks and he had not come to the castle.

Why did he not come? Melanie looked puzzled. Surely if he did not want to see me he would wish to see his sister?

Senara was faintly mischievous as she always had been about Fenn.

“I hear the good Fenn Landor has been home some weeks. Yet he does not call here.”

I was too wounded to retort sharply so I shrugged my shoulders.

“He has forgotten all about us,” she went on. “They say sailors are fickle.”

A few days later we heard that Thomas Grenoble had returned to London.

“Without asking for my hand!” said Senara demurely. “What do you make of that, Tamsyn?”

“I thought he was deeply enamoured of you. It seems strange.”

“He was. But I was not going to have him.”

“He has not asked, remember.”

“He was on the point of it. He is a very rich man, Tamsyn. He will have a high-sounding title one day. He is just the man my mother wanted for me.”

“Yet he did not offer.”

“Because I did not want him to.”

“You told him so?”

“That would not have stopped him, but I had to stop him somehow because if he had I am sure the temptation would have been too much for them to resist. So I worked a spell.”

“Oh Senara, do not talk so. I have asked you so many times not to.”

“Nevertheless I stopped him. It was a very natural sort of spell. A man in his position at Court could not have a witch for a wife.”

“Sometimes I think you are mad, Senara.”

“Nay, never that. I am so pleased that my spell worked that I want to tell you about it. Have you ever thought, Tamsyn, how we can make our servants work for us? They can do so much with a little prompting. I have made good use of servants … always. You are not attending. You are wondering whether Fenn will come soon. I will tell you something. He won’t come. He doesn’t want you any more than Thomas Grenoble wants me. Let me tell you about Thomas Grenoble. I made the servants talk … my servants to his servants. It was so easy. I made them tell him of my strangeness, my spells, the manner in which I was born. I wanted him to think that the servants were afraid of me, that I never went to church because I feared to. That strange things happened, that I could whip up a storm at sea, that I could make a man see me as the most beautiful creature he had ever seen … and he believed them. So that is why he went so suddenly to London. He is putting as great a distance between us as he can.”

“You did not do this, Senara.”

“I did. I did. I knew they would force me to marry him if he made an offer. And he was on the point of it. He was besottedly in love with me. But his fear of being involved with witchcraft was greater than his love. People are becoming more and more afraid of it, Tamsyn. It’s a growing cult. And the more people fear it, the more they discover it. I am free of Thomas Grenoble.”

I did not entirely believe her. I thought she was piqued because he had gone away.

I accused her of this and she laughed at me.

“His love could not have been very strong,” I said, “if he could so quickly forget it.”

“You should comfort me, Tamsyn. Have we not both lost a lover?”

As I walked away I heard her shrill laughter. And I thought: She is right. I have been foolish to hope for Fenn. I misunderstood his friendship. But if he is a friend why does he stay away?

A little later I saw Senara riding away from the castle.

I thought: She is going to Leyden Hall. She is going to see Dickon.

I remembered then how she had adored him when she was younger and how they had danced and sung together.

Could it really be that she loved Dickon?

Was it really true that she had rid herself of Thomas Grenoble in this way?

One could never be sure with Senara. If she loved Dickon she was heading for sorrow, for she would never be allowed to marry him.

And for myself, I knew I could never love anyone but Fenn Landor.

Senara and I, I thought, we shall have to comfort each other.

March came in like a lion, as they say. The winds were violent and the salt spray dashed itself against the castle walls. The waves were so high that it was dangerous to walk on the sea side of the castle. One could easily have been caught and washed away.

One evening, when a storm was rising, I had an uneasy conviction that the lantern was not alight. There were occasions when it went out but in such weather special attention was supposed to be given to it.

I climbed to the tower carrying a taper with me and sure enough that reassuring glow was not there and the turret rooms were in darkness.

I thought of going to the Seaward Tower to tell them that someone had forgotten to light the lanterns in Nonna’s. Then I thought it was quite a simple matter to light them myself. I could comfortably reach them with the step-ladder. I lighted them and in a few minutes they were throwing their reassuring beam of light out across the sea.

I went down to my bedchamber. Senara was there lying on her pallet with dreams in her eyes.

I was about to mention the lanterns when she said: “They will be going away soon.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The puritans. They want to worship in freedom and they say the only place where they can do so is in Holland.”

“Will Dickon go with them?”

“Yes,” she said.

“You will miss him.”

She did not answer. I had rarely seen her so subdued.

Then she started to talk about the puritans. They were brave people; they hated finery and gaiety and everything that seemed to make life interesting to her. Yet she could not but admire them. They were people who would die for their beliefs. “Imagine that, Tamsyn. It’s noble in its way.” She laughed suddenly. “Dickon is greatly tempted. I can see that. He wants to be a puritan and his whole being cries out against it. As mine would. It is a continual battle for him. Battles are exciting. You want everything to be peaceful. You always did. It’s not that you lack spirit, but you’re not an adventurer, Tamsyn. You’re the mother figure, there to love and protect. I’m not like that. I’m the mistress … to tempt, to snare and to be unpredictable.”

“You are certainly that,” I retorted. “Why do you visit these puritans? I know why. It is because it is dangerous. There are going to be harsher rules against them. They are going to be persecuted. Perhaps people will always want to fight again and kill those who disagree with them. The Catholics on the one hand; the puritans on the other; and they are both supposed to be enemies to the Church!”

“The King hates them. Puritans, witches and Catholics who attempt to blow up his parliament! The King is a strange man. They say he is very clever and that he is renowned for his wit. He loves pleasure as much as the puritans hate it. Thomas Grenoble told me that he spends much time at the cock-fight and pays his master of cocks two hundred pounds a year, which is equal to the salary of his secretaries of state. He is a coward too! His garments are padded to preserve him against the assassin’s knife. He is terrified of being assassinated. They talk of these matters at Leyden Hall and they plan to escape from them. It is not that they are running away exactly … They are brave men and women, for they will face fearful hazards. They care nothing for this. They make wonderful plans. They do not intend to stay in Holland.”

Her eyes were brilliant. I could see that she was following them in her thoughts; she was facing the hazards, and I knew that all the time she was seeing herself side by side with Dickon.

“It is some years since Sir Walter Raleigh found a fair land which he called after Queen Elizabeth—Virginia. It lies a long way across the ocean. They talk of Virginia.”

“It was a colony,” I said, “and is now abandoned.”

“It is a rich land of fruits and plants and trees. Perhaps it will be there that they will settle. They will build a new country where men shall be free to follow their religion.”

“Providing,” I added, “it does not conflict with that laid down by the puritans.”

Senara looked at me seriously for a few minutes and then she burst out laughing.

“Oh, it is not for the religion, Tamsyn. It’s not whether we shall genuflect twenty times a day or make our knees sore by kneeling on a stone floor. What do I care for that! It’s the adventure. It’s glorious. To set out like that … not knowing whether you were going to die on the way. The dangers one would face. That’s what I care about.”

That, I thought, and Dickon. I was very uneasy wondering what would become of her when Dickon went away.

The next day the violent storm of the previous night had abated. Two things happened. There was a whipping in the Seaward courtyard.

Merry told us about it, her face distorted with misery. She would, I knew, be remembering the occasion when her own Jan Leward had been so degraded.

He had offended the master, this last victim. It was a terrible occasion. The men of Seaward had been commanded to assemble in the courtyard to watch. The women would not look. They set about preparing ointments and bandages to deal with the sufferer when he was untied from the post and dragged unconscious into the Tower.

The whippings took place rarely, which no doubt made them more to be feared than if they were a commonplace occurrence. The last one had been Jan Leward. I knew that Merry had never got over it and because of this misdemeanour my father had refused them permission to marry for another year. He had told Jan, so Merry had reported to Senara, that he did not want two disobedient servants and until Jan had proved his loyalty he could not marry.

I had watched Merry’s face sometimes when my father’s name was mentioned and I saw the bitter hatred there.

All that day there was a hush over the castle and everyone was talking about the whipping. A few days later there was good news. We had a visitor. He wanted to see my father and thank him personally. On the night of the storm he had all but been wrecked on the Devil’s Teeth. He had in time seen the warning lights; but for that his ship battered by the devastating weather would undoubtedly have foundered. It was like an act of God. He had been making straight for the rocks and then he saw the warning light in time. He had reason to be grateful to the Casvellyns.

The cargo he carried was one of the richest he had ever handled. Gold, ivory and spices from Africa.

He sat drinking with my father all through the day and he announced that he was sending several barrels of finest Malmsey for the enjoyment of my father’s servants.

When I thought about it I realized that I had been the one to light the lanterns. I couldn’t resist telling Senara about it. Merry came in while we were talking.

“It’s a wonderful feeling,” I said, “to have saved that ship. Someone forgot to light the lanterns that night. I thank God that some instinct sent me up there at the right moment.”

Senara and Merry were looking at me intently.

Merry said: “So it was you.”

“Why,” cried Senara, “the Malmsey should be yours.” She added: “If you mention it there would be trouble.”

I thought I knew what she meant. Of course there would be trouble. The fact that I had found the lanterns unlit meant that someone had failed in his duty. A slip like that could have cost many lives.

We wanted no more whippings in the courtyard.

A week or so later there was news from Lyon Court. My grandmother was ailing and it seemed long to her since she had seen me.

My father said I might go to see her and for once Senara did not insist on accompanying me. I believed this was due to the fact that if she did she would not be able to pay her now regular visits to Leyden House and so miss seeing Dickon.

I found my grandmother frail but she seemed to revive a great deal when she saw me.

Spring often comes early to Devon and we were able to sit in the gardens. I was happy to be with her but sad to remember how my mother had loved to feed the peacocks and how they used to come to her with a sort of disdainful air to take the peas she offered them.

My grandmother wanted to hear about life at the castle and I happily told her of how I had found the lanterns unlit in the tower and my action had saved the ship. She thought that was a wonderful story and made me repeat it many times. She asked about my father and my stepmother and whether they seemed happy together.

I supposed they were. My father was not the kind to suffer in silence and my stepmother was difficult to know but she was as she had always been.

And Senara?

“Senara is interested in a puritan family who have come to live nearby.”

“Senara and puritans! That’s incongruous.”

“Senara is so strange. Sometimes I feel I don’t know her.”

“Yet you are fond of each other.”

“Yes, as sisters.”

“You are closer to her than you are to Connell.”

“I suppose it is because Connell is a boy. He and I have never had anything in common.”

“And Melanie?”

“I am growing fond of her. She is so kind and gentle always. I hope Connell will be good to her.”

“Is he not?”

“They are rarely together. Connell hunts and is with my father a great deal.”

“And is there any sign of a child?”

“I have not heard.”

“I expect Melanie is hoping. And what of Fenn Landor?”

I was silent.

“Has he not been to the castle?”

I looked beyond my grandmother to the tall hedge which shut in her pond garden.

“No,” I said, “he has not been to the castle.”

She was frowning. “There must be a reason.”

“Oh, I think there was some speculation. He did not like it perhaps.”

“Speculation?”

“Yes,” I said boldly, “about me. It seemed to be in everyone’s mind that we should marry … everyone’s except Fenn’s.”

“Something must have happened,” said my grandmother. “I’ll swear he was in love with you.”

I shook my head.

“Let us not speak of it, Grandmother,” I said. “I would rather not.”

“No good comes of brushing something aside because it is hurtful to look at.”

“What is this?” I cried. “It has happened so many times. Two people become friendly and those around them think they must be going to marry.”

“Did you think it, Tamsyn?”

I could not find the words to explain and it was so hard not to betray my emotion.

My grandmother went on: “I wanted it to happen. To me it would have meant such compensation. I wanted your mother to marry his father and when young Fenn appeared and you and he seemed so suited …”

I said in a cool voice, “He went away to sea without letting me know. He has come back without seeing me. It’s clear, is it not?”

“No,” said my grandmother firmly. “There must be a reason.”

“It is all clear to me,” I said. “Fenn has been deterred by all the hints of marriage.”