The Witch From The Sea Part 6

"You must not speak so to your lord and master."

"That you shall never be."

"Why not? We may well be an impatient couple who have forestalled our marriage vows."

"This is a nightmare. It can't be true."

"It is and a simple enough story. You came here. You drank too much wine and that released your natural impulses. As I have told you, I am not the man-nor would you find many-to refuse what was so charmingly offered. You will never find a lover such as I. Nor one who gallantly offers you marriage after what many would call your wanton behaviour. Come, do not be shy. I have seen you naked, remember. And beautiful you are, and will grow more so. What is it to be? How would you like to become the chatelaine of Castle Paling?"

"Go away," I said. "I wish to go. I will not stay a moment longer than I need in this place."

To my surprise he stood up and bowed.

He said: "You must eat before we leave. I will have something prepared for you. Then I shall take you back to your home."

I was alone. I looked at the bed, the curtains drawn back at one side. I shuddered. What a fool I had been. I should never have come here. How clear it all was now. I should have seen it. What a cruel trick of fate to have been delivered into his hands. He had said that I would remember. Did I? Could I recall strange sensations which frightened me and fascinated me ... as he himself did.

I dressed hastily, anxious to cover up those bruises.

One of the women servants came in with a tankard of ale and a piece of cob loaf and meat. I could not eat but I did drink a little.

Out in the courtyard my horse was saddled. So was his. He looked fresh and vital.

He himself helped me into the saddle. He took my hand and looked up into my face, as though he were pleading with me, yet I saw the mockery there.

He said: "We have a long ride ahead of us, Mistress."

"I wish to go with all speed."

We did not speak as we rode along and took the road along the coast.

"It is some fifteen miles," he said. "You see we are not such distant neighbours."

"More's the pity," I retorted.

My mother was safe. I believed that and because I need not fret about her I could think of the enormity of this thing which had happened to me.

I was not the first who had had such an experience. Many men such as he was did not bother to drug their victims first. At least I had been spared consciousness. Whatever he might say, I could not remember what had happened. There were only those vague uneasy stirrings of sensation within me ... only the knowledge that I had changed.

The day was bright and sparkling. The wrong sort of day for my mood. It should have been grey, sombre. He broke into song once or twice-they were hunting songs. It was as though he were so pleased with life and himself that he could not suppress his pleasure.

I said nothing except when he spoke to me and then I replied as curtly as I could.

When we had ridden some miles he said our horses should be refreshed and so should we be.

We found an inn and stopped there. He rode into the yard in his bombastic manner which, however, brought him immediate attention. Then while the horses were being looked after we went into the inn parlour, where ale and great pies were set before us.

We were alone in the inn parlour, a fact which did not please me. I would rather someone had been there so that I did not have to talk to him.

"Do not be so downcast," he said. "A girl should not mourn the loss of her virginity. It's not all that precious, you know. It is only those who fear they are never going to lose it who have such a high regard for it."

I was silent.

"You are foolish, my girl. I will not call you by that ridiculous name."

"I am no girl of yours."

"But indeed you are my mistress. You know that."

I rose to my feet and lifted my hand to strike him. He caught it.

"Steady," he said. "We do not want to make a noise, do we? What if mine host came in? What should I say? She shared my bed last night and now regrets it."

"You lie."

"It is you who lie. I speak the truth. I'll say more. I have a fancy for you ... a fair fancy. I'll marry you."

"I would never marry you."

"You might find it right to do so."

"Right to marry you!"

"'Twas such a night," he said, staring into his ale, "a rare night. What if you should be with child?"

I stared at him. "It is not possible."

"We shall see. 'Twould not surprise me. I'd say you were a l.u.s.ty wench. You'll breed ... you and I together. I'd swear that we had started already."

"No," I cried shrilly. "No. Let us go now. I cannot endure any more of your company."

"Then we shall go. I will take you back to your father's house."

"The sooner I am rid of you the better."

As he went out he said: "Do not hesitate too long. Who knows, I might find someone else to my taste. I am ready for a wife and I am not known for my patience."

"I shall commiserate with her when the time comes."

He laughed. "Let us hope it is yourself. Commiserating with oneself is a more frequent habit than with others. My little bird. Pah! Linnet! More like an eaglet I'd say. To me you shall be Girl until you become Wife."

"I am of the opinion that after today you will never have an opportunity to call me anything."

"We shall see," he said.

We rode onward and I was never more pleased to see the familiar portico with the lions on either side. My mother had heard our approach and came running out of the house. Jennet was with her and so was my little sister Damask. I jumped from my horse and threw myself into her arms.

"Dearest child," she murmured. "Oh my darling Linnet. What a terrible night it has been."

It was so wonderful to see her before me that I forgot everything else but that we were together. She kept looking at me and I knew what terrible anxieties she had suffered until she had word that I was safe. I trembled to think what she would suffer still further when she knew what had happened to me.

Then I was aware of him. He stood there, his legs wide apart, watching us with an almost benign expression as though he had given us to each other. I wanted to run into the house and hide myself. I saw that he was watching me sardonically. Was he waiting for me to denounce him as my seducer that he might tell them that I had offered no resistance? Did he think they would believe him in preference to me?

Those moments in the courtyard seemed to go on for a long time. It was as though time was waiting for me to act. I could denounce him. What then? My father was not here but when he came back he would kill Colum Casvellyn. Or he might be killed himself. There was no sense in that. What was done was done.

I was amazed at myself. Was I reconciled already? I longed to get away from him and think what I must do. I must wait, brood on what had happened, ask myself what I should do about it.

My mother was saying: "It was good of you to send word that my daughter was safe and again to bring her home as soon as was possible."

"I only did what any gentleman would do," he said, inclining his head.

I was hard pressed not to shout at him and denounce him for the wicked creature he was, but I saw that it would only upset my mother more.

"Come into the house and refresh yourself," said my mother.

She led him into Lyon Court. He complimented her on the charm of the house. "So modern," he said, "compared with Castle Paling. They built s.p.a.ciously in the old days but without the same view to comfort. Of course we improve on the Castle from time to time but it is not the same as doing it all in the best possible way first."

"Old houses are so fascinating though," said my mother.

"Oh yes. So much has happened in them. When I contemplate the villainies of my ancestors I begin to think the castle must be populated with evil spirits."

My mother took him into the small room which led from one of the galleries. Damask looked up admiringly at Colum Casvellyn. He must have seemed like a giant to her. He lifted her up and held her high above his head. I was annoyed that she showed her adoration so blatantly.

"Damask has taken a fancy to you," said my mother.

"And I to Damask. What an unusual name. You have original names in this family."

My mother looked pleased. She did not see that he was sneering.

"Damask is named after her grandmother. She was born the year Dr. Linacre brought the damask rose to England."

"And Linnet?" he said, smiling blandly at me.

"We thought she would be a boy and we had decided to call her Penn-a family name. At the last moment we had to change that and she was so like a little bird ..."

I felt sick with shame. What had happened to my mother's good sense? Did she not realize that this man was an enemy? Of course she did not know how he had treated me. She saw him only as my rescuer. I wanted to shout the truth. I had a feeling that he was waiting for me to do so and in fact was rather hoping that I would, but something warned me. Wait, I cautioned myself. Do not act rashly. Think about this.

I was longing for him to leave that I might go to my room. I wanted to take off my clothes, examine my bruises, wash and put on clean clothes. As if I could make myself clean again ... ever.

"My dearest Linnet," said my mother, "you are quite exhausted."

"I would like to go to my bedchamber and wash and rest ..."

"But of course." She smiled at Colum Casvellyn. "You will understand. But pray do not hurry away. I regret my husband is not at home. We can have a room prepared for you. You will wish to rest a while after your journey."

"I am used to journeys and since my mission is completed must be on my way."

I had risen and my mother called Jennet.

"You should rest, my dear," she said to me. "It has been an ordeal."

I wanted to shout: You don't know what an ordeal! I could see his eyes on me, mocking, daring me to tell my mother exactly what had happened.

Jennet came in and my mother told her to take hot water to my room; and she herself would bring me a posset which her grandmother had always brewed for exhaustion.

Jennet grasped a reluctant Damask by the hand and I took a cool leave of Colum Casvellyn.

He bowed. "It gave me great pleasure to be of service, particularly after my manners on the first occasion."

"You did let us have the room," said my mother.

"But, Madam, can you forgive me for my churlish manners. I confess I had been drinking too much of the landlord's wine."

"I would forgive anything for what you have done this night."

I wanted to scream and I could see he was suppressing his mirth. He had said he was possessed by a devil. Indeed it seemed so.

I went to my room. It was easier to think there. Jennet brought my hot water. I took off my clothes. I could not get out of my mind the image of his removing them. I should never wear them again. I washed my body and put on clean garments. Strangely enough, I felt better. I went to the window for I heard voices below. My mother was showing him the gardens.

It was unfortunate that he should have looked up and seen me there.

He lifted his hand to his lips as he had on that other occasion. My mother by good luck had not seen me.

I turned hastily away from the window.

When my mother came in with the posset I was lying on my bed.

She knelt beside the bed and laid her hand on my forehead.

"Oh, Linnet, I don't think I shall ever forget that moment when I saw that man riding away with you. We should never have taken that journey. There should have been more grooms to protect us. Next time I shall see that they are armed. Thank G.o.d that man was there. Who would have thought that it should be the one we disliked so much at the inn.

I should tell her now. She would advise me what to do.

Not yet, I thought. I am not ready to talk yet. I must think about it.

Think about it! I could do nothing else. It was there in my dreams and when I was awake. Images came into my mind. I was not sure whether I imagined these things or whether they had actually taken place.

All I knew was that I could never be the same again, and as the days pa.s.sed I began to realize that I would not speak to my mother of what had happened. It would be too distressing to us all.

My father came home and when the house was filled with his vital presence I told myself he must never know. I was aware what would happen if he did. He would set out with a cutla.s.s and nothing would satisfy him but the head of Colum Casvellyn.

For that man I cared not but there was a notion of which I could not rid myself. There was a growing conviction in my mind that whatever conflict he entered into he would emerge the victor. He was like my own father, but he was young and my father was no longer so.

Colum Casvellyn must not be allowed to bring more tragedy to my family. And the only way I could prevent this happening was to remain silent.

The hideous happenings of that night must be my secret ... and his.