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Authors: Jean Plaidy

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Richard shrugged his shoulders and was turning away when he caught sight of two young women in the crowd whom he recognized as serving wenches in his own household. They were giggling and laughing together – two girls on holiday. The big buxom one was eyeing the young men; she had tawny hair cut short like a boy's and eyes to match. But for her short hair, she was a typical Devon maid. The second was a
more interesting type. She was dark-eyed and her dark hair was cut short like her companion's. He was amused to see the way in which those dark eyes followed Sir Francis. What adoration! There was scarcely a woman in the town, he supposed, who would not adore Sir Francis, but this girl looked at him as though he were a saint rather than a handsome and charming adventurer. And who but a simple maid would think Sir Francis a saint!

Richard was mildly interested, for the girl had a faint trace of beauty; her face was unmarked by emotion; she was young – not more than fifteen, he supposed. It was a pity that Alton, the housekeeper, cut the girls' hair. Still, it was the woman's business to keep them in order, and he doubted not that she knew her business. She was a stern creature, with a trace of something vicious in her; he guessed that the girls had many a beating to endure, but no doubt they deseived it. Yet, it was a pity she had cut off their hair, for they would have been more pleasant to look at if they had had more of it; and he liked to look at pleasant things. He wondered lightly about them; he was not a sensual man. He had married a wife chosen for him by his grandfather, and he had felt no great emotion when she had died, nor any need to replace her. There was nothing monklike in his attitude to women; he had a friend in Pennie Cross, to see whom he rode there now and then. She was older than he was – charming, serious-minded, interested in matters which interested him. Theirs was hardly a passionate friendship. It was not likely therefore that he would look on the serving girls as Sir Humphrey would have looked. It was merely that the smile on the face of the little dark one amused him, and fleetingly he hoped that if punishment must be inflicted on the girls for coming into the town without Mistress Alton's permission, the cane would not be allowed to fall too heavily on those slender shoulders.

He forgot the girls as he went for his horse. Looking about him as he rode away from the town, he could see the Tamar winding its way like a silver snake between Devon and Cornwall. The green banks of the lane were rich with bluebells, the red of ragged robin and the white of the stitchwort flowers. It was only a mile or so to his house at Pennicomquick. A
pleasant sight was this house of his with its thatched roof, its gables and its latticed windows. It was spacious too, although not so large as Sir Humphrey's over at Stoke, and a comfortable place to live in. He shuddered at the thought of its being ransacked and burned by Spaniards. He rode through the gates, past the yews which Joseph Jubin his gardener had cut into the shapes of birds, past the lavender not yet in flower and the lad's love with its penetrating yet very pleasant odour.

Clem Swann, his groom, came out of the stables to take his horse, and Richard went into the house and up the staircase to his study. This study was a pleasant room with its big diamond-paned windows and oak panelled walls. There was a carpet on the floor and rich hangings on the walls; he could not bear to be surrounded by anything but the most beautiful that could be obtained. There was in this room a big oak chest of which he kept the key; there were shelves of books all exquisitely bound in calf; the stools were tapestry-covered, and there was one elaborately carved chair which, it was understood, no one should sit on but himself.

He realized that he was fatigued. It was the heat and excitement of the morning. He pulled the bell, and when Josiah Hough, his personal servant, appeared, he asked that wine be brought.

‘Sir,' said Josiah, as he set the wine on the table and poured it out for his master, ‘you have come from the town. Did you see Sir Francis, sir, might I be so bold as to ask?'

Richard raised his eyebrows. The servants were in awe of him and it was not often that they spoke without being spoken to; but he smiled lightly. This was indeed a very special occasion.

‘I saw him, Josiah. The people cheered him mightily.'

‘The whole country seems in a sort of tremble, sir.'

‘Not with fear, Josiah. With excitement.'

‘There's some that say the Spaniards have the best ships in the world, sir.'

‘That may be, Josiah. But it's men not ships that win a battle. Their ships are like their grandees – very pleasant to look upon, full of dignity. Our English ships may not be so
handsome, but sometimes it is better to move with speed than with dignity.'

‘'Tis true, master.'

Richard folded his long white hands together and smiled at his servant. ‘They have to face the English in their own waters. Have you any doubt of the issue? They have to face him whom they have named
El Draque
– the Dragon. They fear him, Josiah, and he is no stranger to them. In their bigotry, in their fanaticism, they believe him to be a magician. Who else, they ask themselves, could score such victories over their Holy Church?'

Josiah drew back astonished; he had never before seen such passion in his master's face. He waited for Richard to go on, but at that moment the sound of sudden shrieks of laughter came floating through the open window.

‘Who is that?' asked Richard.

Josiah went to the window. ‘'Tis the two maids, sir. I'll put a stick about their shoulders. 'Tis young Betsy Cape and Luce Martin.'

To Josiah's surprise, his master rose and came languidly to the window. He looked down on the two girls he had seen in the town.

‘A saucy pair of wenches, sir,' went on Josiah. ‘Betsy's a bold thing, and she's showing Luce the way to boldness. I'll have Mistress Alton whip them for shrieking below your window.'

‘Why do they shriek? It was obviously with pleasure. Do they not realize the import of such a time as this?'

‘They realize only the import of a riband or a man's smile, sir.'

Betsy's laugh rang out. Richard shuddered as though it grated on his nerves.

‘Pray go and tell them to be quiet,' he said.

Josiah went, and from the window Richard watched. He was faintly surprised that he should have felt this flicker of interest. He saw each girl receive a slap across her face. Betsy put out a red tongue at Josiah's back and little Luce clapped her hands over her mouth to stop herself laughing.

Even after they had gone into the house Richard continued to think of them. What did the future hold for such as they
were? Marriage with one of Clem Swann's boys, life in a cottage close to the house, continuing to work for him mayhap, breeding children – boys who would fight for another hero like Drake against another enemy like the Spaniard; and girls to giggle over a riband and the smile of a sailor.

Then he forgot them. He took a book from the shelf and sat back in his chair. It was difficult to read when at any moment the first of the Spanish ships might be sighted on the horizon.

Luce Martin was fifteen years old. She had been sent to work at the house of Richard Merriman when she was thirteen. Her father was a fisherman and he lived in a little cottage in Whitsand Bay, on the other side of the Tamar. This made Luce a bit of a foreigner to the people of Devon. Living was hard to get; sometimes the boats went out and returned with little, and if they returned full of fish it seemed that then there was a glut. There were times when the family lived on buttermilk, with nothing to eat but scraps of rye bread. There were many brothers and sisters, so that even their mother had to stop and count them if she were asked their number; they came regularly each year. Luce was one of the middle ones; and when Mistress Alton, who herself came from the Whitsand Bay neighbourhood, offered to take her to the house in Pennicomquick to work under her, Luce's parents agreed with great eagerness.

So she had set out from her home with a small bundle containing her possessions, and for the first time in her life she was ferried over the Tamar; she walked the few remaining miles to her new home.

She had been afraid of Mistress Alton from the moment she had first heard her name, and she had not been reassured by her first meeting with the woman, for Mistress Alton was, in Luce's eyes, terrible to behold. A tall, thin woman with a mouth which scarcely opened even when she talked, and shut up like a trap immediately afterwards, she wore the neatest and most sober clothes Luce had ever seen, and her skin was hideously disfigured by a very bad attack of the pox. But she had a reputation for great piety, though this did not lessen Luce's fears.

As soon as Luce arrived she had been sent into the yard to strip. Her clothes were lousy. She was given garments to wear which had been chosen by Mistress Alton, for such a fastidious gentleman as Mr Richard Merriman could not demean himself in the affairs of his servants, and he left everything of such a nature to his housekeeper. The clothes were of the same pattern as those worn by Luce's fellow serving maid, Betsy Cape. Then Luce's lovely long hair, which hung curling to her waist, was cut short.

Hair, said Mistress Alton as she cut it, was best cut short, and especially hair that was thick and curly, for that undoubtedly was a gift from Satan.

The Devil's name was more often on Mistress Alton's lips than that of God, who in her eyes seemed to be a superior, vindictive version of the Devil.

So here was Luce, barely thirteen and frightened, never having seen anything as grand as the house in which she now found herself, each day taught her duty to God and her master, but chiefly her duty to Mistress Alton.

Mistress Alton managed the house; she cooked and salted the food and bottled her preserves; she supervised everything that had to be done inside the house and was inordinately proud of her work. She never made a mistake; if mistakes were made, others made them; and faults had to be paid for. It was Mistress Alton's duty to see that they were, and the faults of Luce and Betsy were paid for with beatings administered with the thin cane which hung from the housekeeper's belt together with the keys of her cupboards.

Beatings, which were given for the slightest offence, took place regularly. When Bill Lackwell came to the kitchen to bring fish, and Mistress Alton fancied the girls threw saucy glances at him, they were beaten; once she caught Betsy kissing Charlie Hurly when he came with eggs from his father's farm, and Betsy was treated to a very special beating for that.

It was her duty, said Mistress Alton, to stop that sort of thing.

When Betsy was beaten, Luce must be there to look on; and Betsy was always made to witness Luce's punishment.

‘It will be a lesson to
you
, my girl!' each would be told.

They were obliged to strip to the waist for the caning, for what was the good of beating through the thickness of cloth? They must hold their bodices over their breasts though, for it was immodest to show them even to members of their own sex. If they dropped the bodice or it slipped out of place, they must be beaten for immodesty.

Mistress Alton kept them working hard. The Devil was for ever at their elbows, Mistress Alton explained, waiting to tempt idlers.

So to thirteen-year-old Luce life was all work and beatings. She did not think there was anything strange about that; her father had been wont to beat her merely because he was in the mood. She was lucky, she knew, to get her food and clothing; but now that she was growing older she was a little resentful about the shortness of her hair, and Betsy fostered this discontent.

They slept together in an attic. In some houses all the servants would sleep together in one big room, but Mistress Alton would not have young girls and men sleeping together.

‘My dear life!' she said. ‘What goings-on there would be indeed! I'd not get a wink of sleep for the watch I'd have to keep for wickedness.'

Every night the girls were locked into their attic and the windows bolted. ‘And if,' said Mistress Alton, ‘I should hear of you girls unbolting that window, I'd turn you out of the house, I would. There's some wantonness that can't be beat out, and that sort I would not stand!'

Luce and Betsy would lie on their straw pallets and talk until they fell asleep, which usually they quickly did being tired out after the day's hard work.

On that Whit Sunday night as they lay together on their pallets waiting for the coming of Mistress Alton, Luce whispered: ‘Shall us both be beaten tonight?'

‘Neither of us will,' answered Betsy with such conviction that Luce raised herself to look at her.

‘Why not?'

‘Because her's too busy to think of caning us.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Charlie Hurly told me.' Betsy giggled. ‘He came up to the
house this afternoon. I do think he came to see me. He was out there, trying to get me to go out . . .'

Happy Betsy! A life of hard work and continual punishment could not quell her spirits; she always felt herself to be on the verge of an adventure which involved her seduction, and this evil fate seemed to be what Betsy longed for more than anything.

‘You'd taken a bit of the pie,' Luce reminded her. ‘She saw it on your mouth and you'd spilled some on your bodice.'

‘Well, I got a cut or two for that. Besides, she's too busy, I tell' ee. ‘Sh! Here she comes.'

The light in the attic was still good enough for them to see the housekeeper clearly. Betsy was right, thought Luce; something had happened. She looked excited. Luce guessed it was this waiting for the Spaniards to come.

Mistress Alton was wearing her best dress; her ruff was of cambric and her skirt more wired than the one she usually wore; but it was not her dress that Luce noticed so much as her face, for Luce had rarely seen the housekeeper look so pleased. Moreover, nothing was said about their misdeeds of the day, and there were no beatings on that Sunday night.

BOOK: Daughter of Satan
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