Honey was looking at me fixedly. She was waiting for me to protest.

I opened my mouth to say it was all a mistake and that I had no intention of marrying when I caught Jake’s eye—mocking, warning, cruelly relentless. I thought: He would betray them. He would have no compunction. He is without mercy.

Then I remembered my mother’s telling me as she had on one occasion of how the father she adored had been a prisoner in the Tower and how one day he had been taken to the block and his head placed on London Bridge. I knew that never could she escape from the memory of that time; it had shadowed all her happiness. I had lost Carey and I believed I could never be completely happy again; and if I should be the one to betray Honey how could I face my mother or forgive myself?

A sudden exhilaration came to me. I would outwit this man who had so shortly come into my life and dominated it. I would let him believe that he had won, but he never should. At the moment I must agree to this betrothal because to fail to do so would endanger Honey and Edward. His victory should be only a brief one. If Jake Pennlyon thought I had so easily succumbed he was going to find his mistake.

He took my hand and held it tightly. His grip was a warning in itself. I could break your fingers if I wished; and I will as easily break your spirit.

“Why, Catharine,” said Honey, “may I indeed congratulate the pair of you?”

“This is a time for congratulations,” said Jake. “We want a speedy wedding.”

Honey put her fragrant cheek against mine, her eye inquiring.

“So you have decided, Catharine?” she said. “Why, it is but a short time that you were declaring you would never marry.”

“My son has that in him to break down the resistance of the most retiring damsel.”

“It seems so.”

The wine and cakes were brought in.

Edward poured the wine and gave the toast.

“To the betrothed pair.”

Jake took his glass and drank, then offered it to me. I stared for a moment at his full sensual lips and turned my head slightly. He was thrusting the glass into my hands and I drank.

It was as though I had sealed my promise.

They began to talk about the betrothal, which was to be celebrated at Lyon Court. The wedding would take place here.

“It should be at my mother’s house,” I protested.

“What, on the other side of the country,” cried Jake. “Sailors have no time for such fancies. Your mother must needs come to Devon if she wishes to dance at your wedding.”

“I shall make my plans,” I said.

And I saw the smile turn up Jake Pennlyon’s lips.

I listened vaguely to the conversation. Sir Penn was asking questions about my father’s estate. Edward was answering them as best he could. There should be a good dowry, Sir Penn was saying, but even if there was not there would be no bar to the marriage. “Bar my son when he’s made up his mind! That’s something I could not do an’ I wished it. Nor should I wish it. My son is the image of his father and I’d have that so too. He sees a filly and he’s got to ride her and I know he’s in no mood to wait for his bride.” He leaned toward me. “He’s eager. You’ll find he’s no laggard. That’s the way to ensure sons. You’re not one of these poor swooning females as will faint at the sight of a man. Not you. I saw it from the first. You’re the sort who’ll breed sons with spirit, for you’ve got spirit yourself; and you’ll be as mad for him as he is for you and that’s the way to get sons … get ’em early and get ’em in plenty. Pennlyon boys.”

I hated the man as much as I hated his son. Their frank and racy conversation brought images to my mind. I was a virgin, but I knew something of the relationships of the sexes. Once I had come upon two of the servants copulating in a field. I had listened to talk. So the images came and went … myself and that man, with his lustful, mocking eyes. And when I was in his presence these images were always ready to intrude and disturb.

I scarcely listened to the conversation. It was about the wedding and first of all the betrothal celebration. Honey was bewildered and I was not surprised because it was such a short time ago that I had expressed my dislike of the man. Edward never betrayed his feelings; as far as he was concerned no one would have guessed that there was anything unusual about this betrothal.

It was to take place the following week; and the wedding should be four weeks later. “That will give Jake time to do his courting.” The old man’s chuckle was horrible. He meant of course forestall our marriage vows. “And as soon as we get them into legal bed the better. Jake will be sailing just two months after the day. But it’ll not be a long voyage this time. Jake wouldn’t have that when he’d a wife keeping his bed warm for him.”

I felt sickened. I wanted to shout out: I will never agree. I am pretending. I have no intention of marrying this man.

But I kept silent because whenever I was about to speak I thought of Honey and Edward taken off to some miserable cell and my mother’s heartbroken eyes. She had suffered too much already.

In any case, I was deceiving them. I was letting this arrogant man think he had subdued me. Nothing would induce me to share his bed as his father was fond of putting it, to bear his child, which seemed to be the main idea in the minds of both of them.

It seemed a long time before they left. I was embraced by both father and son. I hated the way they thrust their bodies close to mine.

We stood in the courtyard while they rode away.

When they had gone Honey turned to me.

“What happened to make you change your mind so suddenly?”

“We can’t talk here,” I said.

We went into the punch room. I said: “Not here.” The punch room was approached from the dining room and there was no door to it, only a curtain over the archway.

I said: “Let us go into the chapel. Let us lock the chapel door and that which leads into the leper’s squint.”

The chapel was as normal. There was no sign that Mass had been recently celebrated.

I went to the leper’s squint and peered through into the little room beyond.

“The doors are locked,” I said. “What a pity you didn’t lock them both before Thomas Elders officiated.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Honey.

“Jake Pennlyon was in there.” I pointed to the squint. “I met him coming out. He told me that unless I agreed to marry him he would make it known that Thomas Elders was here and for what purpose.”

“My God!” said Edward suddenly.

Honey laid her hand on his arm. “What would happen to us, Edward?”

His fingers closed over hers protectively. How different he was from Jake Pennlyon! Must I compare every man with that one! He was gentle, protective, loving, tender.

“I don’t know,” said Edward. “It could be most unsafe.”

“So you promised, to save us.”

“I suppose so.”

“Catharine!”

“Don’t imagine I am going to marry him. I’ll fight him.” Again that wild exhilaration. I enjoyed fighting him. I wanted to defeat him, to laugh at him, to mock him. I had never dreamed it was possible to feel so strongly about one person. I had about Carey, of course, but that was the intensity of love—this was hatred. “I had to pretend then or he would have betrayed you. He is a wicked man. I loathe him and his father.”

“But, Catharine, there is to be this betrothal.”

“I shall make no vows. I shall fight them.”

Honey was looking at me strangely. Then she turned to Edward and clung to him.

He said: “Don’t fear, my love. They can prove nothing. We must be careful in future. I must warn Thomas. If young Pennlyon knows he may well set traps for him.”

I thought of my father then, who had brought so much unhappiness to our household because of what he had done to help a friend. Edward would be like that. He was such another as my father … born for martyrdom, which was a terrible thing to be born for in our times.

I went to my room and it was not long before Honey was there.

“Oh, Catharine, what have we all brought upon ourselves?”

She looked frail and frightened; her hand lay gently on her stomach as though she were protecting the child which was growing there.

I felt protective toward her and I said: “Don’t fret. I’ll outwit this arrogant Pennlyon.”

Her mood changed suddenly.

“Why, Catharine,” she said, “I have not seen you so animated since…”

She did not finish; and I knew she meant since I had learned that Carey was lost to me.

She was right. I had not felt so alive since then.

The next day the Pennlyons went away for a few days in connection with stores for the coming voyages. Jake Pennlyon rode over to Trewynd before they left. I saw him coming and went to Honey and made her promise not to leave me alone with him.

We received him in the hall. He embraced me in that manner which made me want to throw him from me and which made him laugh as he sensed my resistance. I think he liked it; my submission, of which he was absolutely sure, would be the more rewarding if he had to force it. He was a hunter and women to him were prey.

Honey sent for wine and we went to the punch room—the three of us together.

“I have bad news for you,” said Jake Pennlyon. “I have to leave you.”

I smiled and he went on: “Don’t despair. ’Tis but for a few days and I’ll be back. Then we’ll make up for our separation.”

“I would not wish you to cut short your business,” I said.

“I never waste time. Rest assured I’ll complete with all speed what has to be done and come back to you. I should like to walk in the gardens with you. There are matters we must discuss.”

“I will accompany you,” said Honey demurely.

“Madam, we would not disturb you.”

“’T would be a pleasure,” said Honey.

His eyes glinted. “We ask no chaperone.”

“Nevertheless, propriety does.”

“We don’t have such ceremonies here,” said Jake Pennlyon. “We’re plain country folk.”

“My sister must behave in the manner expected by her family,” said Honey.

I smiled at her. Dear Honey, she was so grateful to me for protecting her and Edward from the malice of these Pennlyons.

I said: “We will walk in the gardens and keep in sight of the windows.”

I was surprised at myself. But I did want to do battle with him—though from a safe place it was true. Nevertheless, I couldn’t resist the desire to tell him how much I disliked him.

His eyes lighted up. I wondered how much he understood of me.

As we went out together he said: “So we have escaped the dragon.”

“Honey is no dragon. She is merely observing the laws of propriety.”

“Laws of nonsense!” he said. “You and I are as good as married. ’Tis not as though I’d tumble you in the grass, get you with child and leave you.”

“In accordance I suppose with your usual practice.”

“’Tis a well-worn practice. But curb your jealousy. When I have you I’ll be content.”

“I doubt that.”

“The contentment?”

“I was thinking of the other.”

“Not trying to evade your responsibilities, I trust. It would go ill with you and yours if you did.”

“You are a cruel, ruthless man. You are a blackmailer, a rapist, you are all that good and honest men … and women … despise.”

“You are wrong. The men seek to emulate me; as for the women there are dozens of them who’d give ten years of their lives to be in your place.”

I laughed at him. “A braggart too.”

“You please me,” he said.

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Yes,” he went on, “you please me as I please you.”

“Your powers of perception are nonexistent. I hate you.”

“The kind of hate you have for me is very close to love.”

“You have a great deal to learn of me.”

“And a lifetime to do it in.”

“Do not be too sure of that.”

“What, trying to evade your vows!”

“Vows … what vows? You threaten rape; you blackmail. Then you talk of vows.”

He stopped short and pulled me around to face him. I was aware of Honey at the window and felt safe.

“Look me straight in the eyes,” he said.

“I can think of pleasanter sights.”

He gripped my arm in a manner which made me gasp.

“Please, will you remember that I am unaccustomed to physical violence? You will bruise my arm. You did so when you last gripped it.”

“So I left my mark on you. That is well. Look at me.”