There was a rift between us now. Nothing would ever be the same again. Bruno was aware that he had allowed the mask to slip for a moment and had shown me something of the man beneath it. The child had done this. She had forced him to show himself vengeful and, worse still, afraid; and it was inevitable that our relationship must change from that moment. We were together less frequently. The child took up a great deal of my time. She was intelligent, quick and mischievous, and each day I was startled by her incredible beauty. She sensed Bruno’s antagonism though they had scarcely seen each other since her arrival. In her mind I was sure he was regarded as some sort of ogre.

She would toddle around after me so that it was not easy for me not to be with her; I sensed that she was always a little uneasy if I were not present because her eyes would light up with a relieved pleasure when she saw me, which was very endearing.

Naturally the coming of a child had changed the household. It had been a very unusual one before but now it became more normal. Bruno consulted me about the building which had started and behaved as though there had never been the disagreement between us, but I realized that as the time passed he would have to see a great deal of Honey and it was no use trying to hide her from him.

He seemed to realize this and to accept the inevitability of the child’s presence. I was glad of this although the antagonism between them was apparent. In Bruno it showed in a feigned indifference but the child was too young to hide her feelings; she ran from him and when he was near kept close to my side.

So it remained an uneasy situation; but each day I loved the child more. I loved Bruno too, but differently. I found a strange sort of pity creeping into my emotions.

My mother announced that the christening of her twins was to take place and Kate wrote that she would be present, leaving Carey with his nurses and Remus to his business affairs. She would stay at Caseman Court of course, but her first call would be at the Abbey to see the bride.

Within a few days she had arrived and true to her word came at once to the Abbey. She looked as elegant as ever in her fine velvet gown and beautiful too, flushed with the October wind which had caught little tendrils of hair escaping from under her headdress.

She came into the hall of the Abbot’s Lodging and looked about her. I was on the landing at the top of the first flight of stairs and saw her a few seconds before she was aware of me.

“Kate,” I cried. “You are more beautiful than ever!”

She grimaced. “I was fit to die of boredom. Even the Court has become deadly dull. I have much to tell you, Damask. But first there is so much I wish to know.”

She looked at the great hall with its beautiful open timber roof, its molded arches and its carved pendants and corbels.

“So this was the old Abbot’s Lodging. Very fine. I’ll swear it compares favorably with Remus Castle. But what does it all mean?” She caught my hand and looked at the ring on my finger. “You, Damask. You.”

“Why should you seem so surprised?”

“That he should marry at all. It had to be one of us, of course. And I was already married to Remus, so there was only you. But this mansion…how did he acquire it? He who was so poor. How did the Abbey fall into his hands?”

“It was a miracle,” I said.

Her eyes were wide; she looked at me searchingly. “Another miracle?” she asked. “Impossible! We were deluded about the first, weren’t we? Do you know, Damask, I don’t think I believe in miracles.”

“You were always irreverent.”

She gazed up at the carvings in the spandrels. “But it’s beautiful. And this is your home now! Why did you not write and tell me what was happening? Why did you keep it to yourself? You should have warned me.”

“There was no time.”

“Well, I wish to hear everything now. This your home, Damask. Our old Abbey your home. Do you know they are saying, Damask, that the Abbey is becoming what it once was?”

“I know there are rumors.”

“Never mind rumors. Let us be together and talk. There is so much to tell.”

I took her up the great staircase with its beautifully carved balustrade to the solar where I had been sitting doing a piece of needlework—in fact making a dress for Honey—when she arrived. Although it was October the afternoon sun streamed into the long room and I led her to the window where I had been seated.

“Do you need refreshment, Kate?” I asked.

“Your mother’s stillroom provided all I needed. How proud she is of her twins. Where is your husband?”

“He is very occupied during the day. There is so much to be done here. We did not know the Abbey in the old days, Kate. I was astonished when I realized its spaciousness. There is going to be a great deal of work if we are to make it flourish as it did in the days of….”

She was watching me closely. “But it must not flourish as an abbey, must it?”

“Indeed it is no abbey in the sense that St. Bruno’s was. But there is the farm and the mill and the land has to be prepared for next year’s harvests.” I was talking because I was afraid of what questions she would ask me if I stopped. I said, “There will be the hay to be cut and baled; the corn; the animals….”

“Pray do not render me accounts of the laborers’ duties for I have not come to hear that.”

“But you must understand that there is much work to be done…we shall need many men if we are to make this place prosper.”

“And Bruno? Where is he?”

“I believe him to be somewhere in the Abbey. Perhaps he is talking about the farmlands, or the mill, or like as not he is in the scriptorium with Valerian.”

“What did he say when he knew I was coming?”

“Very little.”

“Don’t be maddening, Damask. What effect did it have on him?”

“What conceit! Do you think it is such an important event because you at last deign to visit us?”

“I should have thought it worthy of some comment.”

“He does not easily betray himself.”

This she conceded.

I asked how Carey was. Had he grown?

“It is a natural function for children to grow. Carey is normal in every way.”

“I long to see him.”

“You shall. I will bring him to the Abbey.” She was looking at me searchingly. “What banal questions we ask each other! And you have this child here—Keziah’s child!” She looked at me searchingly. “Is that wise?”

“I had pledged myself.”

“And Damask would always keep her word. And Bruno? What does he feel? His marriage not more than a few weeks old—and already a child!”

“He accepts the fact that I must keep my word. And I love the child.”

“You would. The eternal mother! That is you, Damask. And are you happy?”

“I am happy.”

“You always adored Bruno…blatantly. But then you were always so honest. You could never hide your feelings, could you?”

I avoided her eyes. “I don’t think you were indifferent to him.”

“But you carried off the prize. Clever Damask.”

“I was not clever. It just happened.”

“You mean that he returned and asked you to marry him?”

“I do mean that.”

“And he said I will lay the rich Abbey at your feet. I will give you riches and jewels….”

I laughed. “You were always obsessed by riches, Kate. I remember when we were young you always said you would marry a Duke. I’m surprised that you settled for a mere Baron.”

“In the battle of life one takes an opportunity when it comes if it is reasonably good. To let it pass might mean to miss it altogether. There were not many noble visitors at your father’s house, were there? Remus seemed a very worthy object of my attention.”

“Is he as doting as ever?”

“He dotes,” said Kate. “And of course he is eternally grateful for the boy. But it is of you that I wish to talk…you, Damask. So much has happened here—more than has been happening in my little circle. Your mother producing twins and your strange marriage. That is what interests me.”

“I think you know what happened. Bruno came back and asked me to marry him. There had been a great deal of talk about the new owner of the Abbey. No one knew who it was. I agreed to marry Bruno—then he revealed to me who he was and that by a miracle he had acquired the Abbey.”

“It’s a fantastic story and I never wholly believe fantastic stories.”

“Are you suggesting that I am lying to you, Kate?”

“Not you, Damask. But you must admit it is so very strange. So he asked you to marry him and only after did he reveal that the Abbey would be your home. What a secretive bridegroom! I’ll dareswear you promised to share a life of poverty with him.”

“I had thought that was what it would be.”

She nodded slowly.

“Bruno is a proud man.”

“He has much of which to be proud.”

“Is not Pride a sin—one of the seven deadlies I had always been led to believe?”

“Oh, come, you are being censorious now, Kate. Bruno has a natural dignity.”

“That was not quite what I meant.” Her face darkened momentarily and then she shrugged her shoulders. “Show me the Abbey, Damask,” she said. “I should enjoy seeing it. First this house. This solar is beautiful. I shall imagine you here when I am back at my gloomy old castle.”

“So the castle has become gloomy? I thought you were very proud of such a fine old place.”

“It is a castle merely—inhabited by the Remus family since the days of the first Edward. It could not be compared with an abbey, could it now?”

“I should have thought so and to its advantage.”

“Now, Damask, you are at your old trick. You are teaching me to count my blessings. You were always something of a preacher. What do you think of the new religion? Did you know that many are probing into it? And it is against the law of course, which makes it so exciting. I believe it to be a simpler religion. Imagine the services in English! So easy for people to understand which is good in a way and yet so much of the dignity departs. It is so much more impressive when you are in doubt as to what it is all about.”

“You still flit from subject to subject in the same inconsequential manner. What has religion to do with architecture?”

“It seemed to me that everything in this world is connected with everything else. There! You are thoughtful. Have I said something profound? Perhaps I am becoming clever. You and Bruno were the clever ones, were you not? How you used to madden me when you put on that superior manner and tried to carry the subject beyond me. But I could always get the better of you both. I haven’t changed, Damask, and I doubt that you and Bruno have either.”

“Why should any of us wish to get the better of each other?”

“Perhaps because some of us have what the other wants. But no matter. Where is Bruno? Manners demand that he should be here to greet me.”

“You forget your visit was unexpected.”

“He knew that I was coming to Caseman Court, did he not?”

“And do you expect him to be waiting here on the chance that you will come?”

She shook her head. “I would never expect that from Bruno. Come, show me your beautiful dwelling.”

I led her across the solar into my own little sitting room.

“It’s charming,” she cried. She gazed up at the ceiling with its carved wooden ribs and gesso ornamentation and the decorations of the frieze. “That was done not very long ago,” she declared. “It is quite modern. I’ll warrant the old Abbot had it refurbished after the first miracle when the Abbey grew rich. So he owes that to Bruno. It is surprising how much so many owe to Bruno.”

I took her from room to room. She expressed admiration for all she saw but I fancied it was tinged with envy. The gallery enchanted her. It was bare at the moment for tapestries and precious ornaments had been torn from the walls by Rolf Weaver and his men; but they had not harmed the window seats and the one beautiful oriel window which looked out on the cloister and the monks’ frater.

At the end of the gallery was a small chapel on either side of the door of which were panels each decorated with an effigy of Saint Bruno.

“They lived well, these monks,” said Kate with a smile. “And how lucky you are that it should have been you whom Bruno brought to this wonderful place.”

As we made a tour of the Abbey she constantly exclaimed with admiration at so much; I knew that she found the place which had dominated our imaginations when we were children to be entirely fascinating and that she envied me. She climbed the monks’ night stairs; she opened the door of one of the monk’s cells and stood there looking around her. “How quiet it is!” she cried. “How cold. How ghostly.”