I shivered. “Poor child,” I murmured.

“Poor child indeed, and you have not realized all. The effect on her has been terrible.”

There was silence—a great moth fluttered up suddenly from the curtains and flew to the candlelight; it flew madly around, singeing its wings until it fell. We both watched it.

“She had to be nursed back to health,” he said. “But that was something beyond our powers.”

“She died?” I asked.

He looked beyond me. “Perhaps it would have been better so.”

We were silent for a second or so. I was thinking of the leering faces of men during the calm; and I saw the poor little girl of fifteen in their power.

“I am not a man to accept insult and injury,” he said. “I seek revenge … nothing will satisfy me but revenge. I want an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. No more. But that I want and that I will have. Tell me that you understand.”

“I do.”

“You would feel as I if so wronged?”

“I believe I should.”

“There is anger in you. I sense that. It is good. It will make you pliant.”

“Explain to me more.”

“It is simple. I know the name of the ship which raided our coast on that night. I know the name of Isabella’s ravisher. The ship was the Rampant Lion. The man who ruined her life Captain Jake Pennlyon.”

I had caught my breath; I felt the color rushing into my face. I stared at him. I know my lips formed the name Jake Pennlyon although I did not speak.

“Now you begin to understand. My affianced bride was cruelly treated by this brigand. His affianced bride is in my hands. You are not a fool. You understand.”

“I begin to.”

“I shall tell you of Isabella, beautiful Isabella, an untutored child. Our brides are young … younger than yours perhaps. Fifteen years old. She knew nothing of life, what marriage would be. I should have led her gently to understanding … tenderly. You are made of stronger stuff. You are no child. You have knowledge of the world. It may be that you are not a virgin. But I shall take my revenge. He took my woman, so shall I take his. You are not, I trust, carrying his child already?”

“You are insulting.”

“Nay. I respect your pride; but I know his kind. I would not wish to insult you. We are not brigands here. We live graciously and in a becoming manner I shall secure my revenge if you permit this. I know that you were not his mistress. My spies kept me informed.”

“The false Rackell, the falser Gregory.”

“Faithful to me,” he said, “as they should be. I have vowed to take my revenge and shall do so whatever the cost. I shall rejoice if you are a virgin, for that will make my revenge complete.”

“That is your purpose then?”

“Our wedding took place as arranged. She was demented. She would awaken screaming from her sleep; her dreams terrified her. None but her duenna could comfort her. When I approached her she shrank from me. She associated me with him, you see. We discovered that she was with child … that brigand’s child. You cannot realize this tragedy until you have seen it. I vowed revenge. I have sworn before all the saints that I shall not rest until that revenge is complete.”

“A strange vow to take in holy places,” I said.

“I have sworn,” he said, “in the name of God the Father and the Holy Virgin; I have sworn on my family’s honor, and I know that I have divine help in this, for now you are delivered into my hands.”

“And so the drama is to be reenacted. I take the part of Isabella and you Pennlyon.” I recoiled from him—this strange cold man. “Do you think you could ever be like him? You could not be more unlike…”

“And you like her. It matters not. You are here by God’s grace. We have brought you out of your island. You have come safely through the perils of the sea. And I swear by my ancestors and all the saints that you shall not leave this island until you carry my child in your womb. You shall take my child to him as he has left his to me.”

“So you think that I will submit with docility?”

“I think that you have no choice but to submit.”

“And allow myself to be treated as of no consequence as merely a means of giving you your revenge!”

“As Isabella was a means of satisfying that man’s lust.”

“You call yourself courteous, sensitive! I call you a rogue, a pirate, for although you are too fastidious to sail the seas and capture women for yourself you have your servants bring them to you. You are as bad as he is.”

“I have vowed a vow. I intend it to be carried out. I am indeed different from the man who was to have been your husband. I offer you a choice. Gracious submission or force.”

“I’ve no doubt he offered her that.”

I stood up and moved to the door. He was beside me.

“This is distasteful to me,” he said. “Do not imagine I lust for your body.”

“Can I hope that I am as repulsive to you as you are to me?”

“You can believe that I have as little pleasure in what must be done as you have. But it shall be done and whether our encounter is to be conducted with seemly discretion or in a manner which will be humiliating and degrading to you is for you to decide.”

I looked at him; he was slender and he did not give the impression of great strength, as Jake Pennlyon had. A woman would know at once that she had no chance against him. I could fight this man. And if I escaped him where should I go?

He followed my thoughts. “I have many servants here. I have but to summon them. Strong men who would truss you up as a chicken for the pot. But I do not wish for that. I want the matter to be conducted expeditiously and with as little discomfort to you and myself as possible. I do not blame you for what happened. But you are a necessary instrument of my revenge.”

I thought I could like him better if he were goaded by that lust—anything would be better than this coldly scheming approach.

He said: “I will send for Maria; she shall conduct you to the bedchamber; she will prepare you. I will visit you there. I beg of you consider. You know you are here and powerless to resist. This shall come to pass. How depends on you.”

He went to the door. Maria must have been waiting. She came in and knew what to do. I followed her back to the bedroom.

I suppose always before I had acted on impulse. I had forcefully expressed my agreement or refusal to do anything. I had rarely been undecided. “Count ten before speaking,” my mother had said. I could go on counting day and night now and I should not know what to do. I was going to be this man’s mistress. It was as inevitable as the rise and setting of the sun. I could see nothing that would prevent it. I was a prisoner on this island and there was nothing that could save me. If I attempted to resist him he would resort to force as he had said; and he was not the man to apply force himself, any more than he was to take part in the actual abduction. Others did that for him.

Maria slipped off my clothes; over my head was put a night shift of silk. It had that pungent odor about it.

Maria turned down the sheet. She indicated that I was to get into the bed. I did so shivering. I was fighting with myself. I saw men tying my ankles together. I saw myself forcibly taken as Jake Pennlyon had taken Isabella. I could not endure that—just to reach the same end.

Maria was blowing out the candles. The room was in darkness. She went out and shut the door.

I leaped out of bed. I tried the door. It was locked. I went to the window. I drew back the curtains so that a little starlight penetrated. I opened the window and stepped out onto the balcony. I wondered if I could climb down into the patio. I could find Honey, run to her for shelter.

I pictured rough hands on me. He was right, I had to make a choice. Would I make a pretense of submission or would I wait to be degradingly forced?

It was too late. I could hear the key in the lock. I ran back to the bed and lay there, my heart beating quietly.

He came into the room. I saw him in the starlight standing by the bed. He was wrapped in a robe, which he took off. I closed my eyes tightly.

Then I was aware of his body, his hands on me, his face close to mine.

I tried to calm myself and I thought: Oh, God, I saved myself from Jake Pennlyon, from the lustful men on the galleon … for this.

A week had passed. I could not believe that this was happening to me. I saw little of him during the day, but each night he came to me. He never stayed. “The matter,” as he called it, was as distasteful to him as to me. I had never thought it possible to have such a cold-blooded lover—but he was not a lover; this had nothing to do with love; it was revenge.

There was a certain passion—the passion of revenge—and for me the passion of hatred. I hated him for this humiliating use of me. He had robbed me of my dignity as a human being. I was not a woman to be loved or to be hated; I was a means to give him the revenge he needed. My hatred grew when I considered that. He was trying to create a life; he would bring a child into the world to satisfy his revenge and make me the instrument of reproduction. Could anything be more humiliating than that?

Only a man of extreme arrogance could dream of using others for such a purpose. He was every bit as bad as Jake Pennlyon. I hated them both. How dared they treat women in such a way!

When this man came to me I thought of Jake Pennlyon and I could not shut out of my mind the thought of his coming to this house and finding Isabella and in my imagination I was Isabella and the man who was humiliating me was Jake Pennlyon.

I was treated with respect during the day. There were servants to wait on me. During that first week I was not allowed beyond the house. But I did see Honey. The very first day I was taken to her. I was very shocked on that day by what had happened on the previous night; and as the days passed I was shocked in another way to discover how quickly I had grown accustomed to his visits.

The first encounter had horrified me—after all, I had been a virgin and, although not ignorant of sexual relationships, had never experienced such. It was at this stage that I talked to Honey.

She had been well received and had been given a pleasant room with Jennet to act as a kind of maid to her. She was bewildered as to why we had been brought there until I told her what had happened to me.

She listened incredulously. “It is too fantastic. It can’t be true.”

“This Felipe is a vindictive man. He is cold and cruel. He would go to any lengths to gain his revenge. When I carry his child we shall be taken back to England … and not till then.”

“So it was all planned.”

“What sort of mind would make such a plan? You can guess the sort of man he is. An eye for an eye. He has to pay back in exactly the same manner. It is Jake Pennlyon who has ruined my life, Honey. I knew it from the moment I saw him.”

“His young wife taken like that! It’s horrible, Catharine.”

“What became of her I don’t know. All I know is that he must have been heartbroken when he came back and found her … a child of fifteen, think of that, Honey; and Jake Pennlyon.”

Then I began to laugh hysterically. “I have been raped. As surely as anyone I have been violated, and in this most courteous manner.” I covered my face with my hands.

Honey shook me. “Don’t, Catharine,” she said. “Don’t laugh like that. It’s happened. Let us think on from there. This man…”

“He will visit me each night. He has said so. Oh Honey, when I think of it…”

“Don’t think of it. It is happening and nothing can change it. We are prisoners here and we know now for what purpose. At least he has not ill-treated you.”

“He has only misused my body,” I said fiercely.

“Catharine, we have come through violent adventures. This has happened. Edward is dead. My baby will soon be born. We are far from home. This man has taken you against your will, but not roughly as he might well have done.”

“As Jake Pennlyon must have taken Isabella. But perhaps she had a chance of passivity or the consequences. I chose passivity. I wish I’d fought him now.”

Honey said: “Be calm. Let us wait and see what happens. We don’t know from one moment to another. This man has had his will of you. It has happened to girls before. Let us try to bear what is in store for us.”

All that day I was with Honey and I could not get out of my mind what had happened to me. I thought of it all day—myself and this cold strange man—Isabella and Jake Pennlyon. And the evening came and Maria came for me and I bathed and was anointed with the perfumed oil—he was such a fastidious gentleman—and again that night he came to me.