The Miracle at St. Bruno's (74 page)

I laughed aloud. “So he was cheated, was he?”

“He reckoned so. And he was angry. And I said I’d go and tell you he were here and he said: ‘You little fool, do you think that will bring her?’ And I believe he was in two minds to come and get you. But even he couldn’t do that in his neighbor’s house, could he? So he made me stay and he said, ‘We’ll make believe, Jennet. You’ll be your mistress tonight.’ And then it happened, Mistress. I was powerless. There never was such a time.”

“In my bed!”

“I’d meant to straighten up, Mistress. But there weren’t time. He went at dawn; and I fell into such a sleep. Well, Mistress, it had been such a night … and when I woke it was late and I went to my room to get myself looking shipshape like … and by the time I came back you’d seen the room and the bed and…”

“The scene of your triumph, Jennet.”

“What’s that, Mistress?”

“And because of that he got you with child.”

She was again bashful. “There were other times. When you had the sweat he used to come over … and he’d command me to go to Lyon Court, he would.”

“And you did of course.”

“I dursn’t disobey him.”

“Jennet,” I said, “you are a false servant. This is the second time you have betrayed me.”

“I wouldn’t have, Mistress. It was just that it were beyond my power.”

“From him to Alfonso and I’ll warrant you sneak into someone’s bed in this place!”

“’Tis into the stables, Mistress. One of the grooms.”

“Spare me your disgusting details.” I kept thinking of Jake Pennlyon waiting in that room for me and taking Jennet. And I thought of the similarity of my own affair with Felipe Gonzáles, who pretended that the woman he visited each night was Isabella instead of me.

“And it did not occur to you that because of your lust you might bring some unfortunate infant into the world?”

“Oh, it did, Mistress, but then Sir Penn have had many such, but he always looked after ’em. They always had a good place somewhere and I said to myself ’twill be the same with Captain Jake.”

“You were mistaken.”

“It changed, though, Mistress. Who could have known that we’d be on the high seas and in this place? Who could have foretold that?”

She stood before me forlorn, yet her eyes were alight with the memories of her liaison with that man.

I wondered why I had failed to notice that she was pregnant. It seemed so obvious now.

Jake Pennlyon, I thought. Everything comes back to Jake Pennlyon. I wished that I could shut out from my mind memories of him and Jennet together.

I said: “Get out of my sight. You disgust me.”

She crept away.

I hated Jake Pennlyon. I hated Felipe Gonzáles. I hated my father and Kate for spoiling my life. So much hatred was like a sickness of the body. There was a tight feeling in my throat which was like a pain; I wanted to relieve it which I could only do by taking some action. I wanted revenge chiefly on Jake Pennlyon; but he was out of my reach. By comparison I almost felt a sympathy for Felipe Gonzáles. At least he was revenging himself on Jake Pennlyon. A feeble revenge perhaps. He did not understand that Jake was a different kind of man from himself. Jake could content himself with Jennet when he could not get me. Jake would never understand the devotion Felipe felt for his Isabella.

But I hated Felipe for humiliating me and I hated him for not desiring me, for forcing himself to do what he did and tricking me out so that he could delude himself into thinking I was Isabella.

Everything came back to Jake Pennlyon; but he was out of my reach and I could not revenge myself on him.

I wanted to hurt someone. To beat Jennet was of no avail. Besides, she was pregnant and I had no wish to harm an innocent child even though it was the fruit of Jake Pennlyon’s lust. I thought of Felipe and wondering about this strange, silent man took my thoughts from my bedroom in Trewynd and Jake Pennlyon’s waiting there behind the door to seize Jennet.

I began to consider those dark nights when Felipe Gonzáles came to me. I would not admit it, but they no longer shocked me. I had become accustomed to his visits. I received him passively and since I had seen Isabella my sympathy for him had grown.

But a desire began to grow in me—perhaps I wished for my revenge on him, perhaps my feminine vanity was affronted. I was not sure, but I began to think of him more than I had and my attitude toward him was changing.

Once when he came in I pretended to be asleep. I lay quite still. The room was always dark, but there was faint light from a crescent moon and the brilliant stars. I kept my eyes closed, but I was aware of his standing by the bed looking at me.

He always left his candle outside the door. I fancied that he was ashamed and did not wish to be embarrassed by the light.

Still keeping my eyes closed, I felt him get into the bed. I lay still. I knew that he was watching me. On impulse I put out a hand and touched his face. I let my fingers linger on his lips and I could swear he kissed them.

I made no sign. I just lay there as though sleeping. He watched me for some minutes. Then silently he went away.

I lay listening to his receding footsteps. My heart was beating wildly. I felt a certain exultation. Our relationship was beginning to change. Faint stirrings of a desire was in me—not for love but for revenge.

Honey’s time was near and the midwife came to settle in.

I went to Felipe’s
escritorio
ostensibly to thank him for what he had done for Honey, but in fact to speak to him and see if I could sense any change in his attitude toward me.

He had returned on other nights, but not every night. I would never know when he was coming and would lie awake listening for his steps. I was angry when he came and angry when he did not. I could not understand myself.

He rose from his desk as I entered and stood courteously.

Then he indicated a chair.

I sat down. “I have come to thank you. The midwife is here. My sister will have need of her shortly.”

He bowed his head.

“It is good of you to treat us as human beings.” I injected a little sarcasm into my voice, but he did not seem to notice it.

“It is no fault of hers that she is here. Certainly she must have attention. She will bring a good Catholic into the world.”

“I have a strong suspicion that I am with child.”

“Suspicion is not enough. I must have certainty.”

“How soon shall I leave when it is known?”

“That is a matter which will have my consideration. Your sister will not wish to travel for a while. Your maid, I hear, is also soon to give birth.”

I was not going to tell him who the father of Jennet’s child was.

I said: “She was raped by one of your sailors.”

“That is deplorable,” he said.

He half rose in his chair, the gesture of dismissal.

I went on: “We are kept as prisoners here. Are you afraid that we will find our way to the coast and swim home?”

“There is no reason why you should be kept prisoners. Once you are with child you will have more freedom. You are kept in seclusion because the child must be of my giving.”

I flushed hotly. “And you think I am a woman to take lovers here and there from your Spaniards of La Laguna? You are offensive, sir.”

“I ask your pardon. I meant no such thing. Your serving woman was taken against her will. There is a strangeness about you … a foreign look … which might put you in danger. I might not be at hand to protect you.”

“I trust soon that I shall be beyond your protection.”

“You cannot wish for that more than I do.”

I thought of his coming to me and how he had watched me and how he responded when I laid my fingers on his lips.

I had imagined the whole thing. There was no moving this strange silent man.

Honey had a long labor and it was day and night before her child was born—a puny girl, small but living.

It was not to be wondered at after all she had endured.

She lay back in her bed, looking unbelievably beautiful with her dark hair flowing loose and the maternal look in her lovely violet eyes.

She said: “I shall call her Edwina. It’s the nearest to Edward. What do you think of that, Catharine?”

I liked the name, but I was so relieved that Honey had come through the ordeal safely that anything would have sounded good. There had been times when I had begun to fear for her and then I realized how much she meant to me. I had gone over our childhood together in the Abbey and wondered what my mother was doing and whether she was thinking of us—her two daughters lost to the Spaniards.

The baby occupied our time and our thoughts. Its arrival was a turning point, I think. I had to rejoice when I looked at those miniature fingers and toes, and the child became the center of our lives. We ceased to think of revenge and home while we asked ourselves how much the baby had grown since yesterday.

A week or so after the birth of Edwina I was sure that I was pregnant.

Triumphantly, I faced him in the
escritorio.

“There is no doubt,” I said. “I have seen the midwife. Your unpleasant duty is finished.”

He lowered his head.

“Now is the time for us to return home.”

“You shall do so at a convenient time.”

“You said this is all you wanted of me. You have defiled me, humiliated me, impregnated me with your seed. Is that not enough? Am I not free now?”

“You are free,” he said.

“Then I wish to go home.”

“You will need a ship.”

“You have ships. You sent for me, now take me home.”

“There is no ship in the harbor at this time.”

“Yet you sent the galleon.”

“It was convenient to do so.”

“Then pray find it convenient to keep your bargain.”

“I made no bargain with you. I made a vow to the saints.”

“You have promised that I shall go home.”

“In due course you will sail for your barbaric land and you can tell your pirate lover what you have seen here. You can tell him of what happened to a noble lady and what has happened to you. You can tell him that he ruined her life and that I have had my revenge on him. You will take your bastard to him as he left his here with me.”

I stood up. “So when a ship comes, I shall go?”

“It shall be arranged,” he said. “But I want to be sure that there is a child.”

“He never saw his. Why should you see yours? Is that in the vow?”

“His child was born,” he said. “I must be sure that mine is.”

“You have not gained your revenge completely,” I said. “I am not as Isabella. You have insulted and humiliated me, but you have not robbed me of my reason. Your revenge is incomplete.”

“You will have this child,” he said. “You will not leave this island until that child is born. I will make sure that there is a child and then you shall be taken back.”

I walked out of the
escritorio.
I thought: He said that I might leave when I was with child. But he does not wish me to go. I laughed exultantly and I thought: He is vulnerable. When I can discover how vulnerable I can have my revenge.

Revenge is sweet, there is no doubt. It gives one a reason for living when life becomes too tragic.

I was beginning to understand Felipe.

Our lives had undergone a change; it was due mainly to the fact that he no longer came to me; I felt as though I was in complete possession of myself again. And the fact that there was a baby in the household was not without its effect.

A certain normality had come upon us. Strangely enough we had settled down, which was something I now and then marveled at. But such is human nature that it can become accustomed to anything however extraordinary. One adjusts oneself—or at least we seemed to.

I now had the bedroom to myself—and a pleasant room it was. Since it was no longer the scene of my nightly humiliation my feelings changed toward it. I could enjoy the tasteful, yet somber decorations: the tapestry which hung on one of the walls; the heavy arras which shut out the light; the arch with the curtains across it which led to the toilet room with its sunken bath. There was an Eastern touch about it and I learned later that Felipe’s family had lived in that part of Spain which was dominated by the Moorish influence.

Perhaps it was because I was pregnant that a certain serenity had come to me. I had noticed this in both Honey and Jennet though with Jennet it was a constant attitude. I was surprised that I was excited by the thought of bearing this child which had been forced on me. But already I was forgetting the means of its begetting and was conscious only that a new life was stirring inside me and that I should be a mother.

I would dream of my child and be eager for its arrival … not only because it meant that when I had it I should go home, but because I longed to hold it in my arms.

We were allowed to go into the town. Honey left the baby in Jennet’s care and she and I set out riding on mules, accompanied by Richard Rackell and John Gregory, who, because they spoke English perhaps, had been made our guards.

They rode one in front and one behind and I felt my spirits lift as we saw the town lying in the valley. The sun was brilliant and it shone on the white houses and the Cathedral, which John Gregory told us had been built at the beginning of the century. We could not see the great mountain peak from this spot, but we had seen it at sea when we had approached the island—the great Pico de Teide which the ancients had believed supported the sky and that the world ended just beyond it. Perhaps one day, he suggested, we should be permitted to go farther inland and there we should see this miraculous mountain.

We left our mules at a stable and we went on foot into the cobbled streets, closely guarded by the two men. The women mostly wore black, but on the balconies of some of the houses there were ladies who leaned on the wrought-iron balustrades to take a close look at us, and some of those wore colored skirts and mantillas.

“They are interested in us,” said Honey.

“They know you are foreigners and come from the Hacienda,” said John Gregory.

“Do they know,” I asked, “how we were brought here?”

John Gregory replied: “They know you have come from a foreign land.”