The Lion Triumphant (30 page)

“Then it is useless to continue these suppositions.”

“There must be a way. There is always a way. I must tell you this—in a short time Don Luis Herrera will be arriving. He is going to take over the governorship from me, but not immediately. He will need a year, perhaps more, to learn what I have to teach him. These islands are of the utmost value to Spain; they are the gateway to the new world. We must hold them and we are continually assailed. Therefore, the new Governor must understand what is expected of him. In a year … two at most … I shall return to Madrid. Catalina, I am going to take you with me … as my wife.”

“Do Spanish Dons have two wives then?”

“She is not healthy, poor Isabella,” he said slowly. “These fits are becoming more frequent.”

“You are willing her to die.”

He was silent for a moment and then he said: “What can her life be? What has she?”

“She seems happy enough with her dolls.”

“Dolls—and she a grown woman!”

“She is not a woman. She is a child. You loved her once.”

He looked at me steadily. “I have loved but once, and I shall go on loving one woman to the end of my days.”

“Don Felipe!”

“Do not say Don Felipe. To you I am Felipe. Say it as though you are close to me. It would give me great pleasure to hear you.”

“When I say it I will say it naturally.”

“It will happen,” he said. “I know it.”

“So you never loved Isabella,” I insisted. “Tell me the truth.”

“It was a worthy match. Hers is one of the greatest families in Spain.”

“So it was for this reason only that you wished to marry her?”

“It is for such reason that marriages are arranged.”

“And when you came back and found her after Jake Pennlyon had been, you were mad with rage, not for love of this simpleminded child but because of the affront to your pride. This had happened to her when she was under your protection. That was why you vowed to be revenged.”

“Yet,” he said, “all this has brought me you.”

“It is better to say no more of that. Let me go back to England. My son is old enough to travel now.”

“And lose you both!”

“It is better for you. You are a man of great standing. You will go back to Madrid and take up a post of great importance. Perhaps in due course you will be in a position to marry. Who can say? But you should let me go.”

“I cannot lose both you and the child. You are more to me than anything on Earth.”

The fact that he spoke these words in a quiet, restrained manner gave them force. I was suddenly afraid of the passion which I had aroused in this cold man.

He began to talk eagerly. “If we were married I could legitimize Roberto. I have rich lands and estates in Spain. He should be my heir and there would be a goodly portion for other children we might have. We should live graciously. Perhaps I should retire from the Court. Our children would have every comfort that you would wish for them.”

I let myself dwell on the prospect, which was strange because although I loved Roberto beyond everything and in a way wanted those rich estates for him I longed for home. I wanted to see my mother, to witness the happiness in her face when she knew that her girls were safe and alive; I wanted to see the fruit trees in blossom in the spring. In short, I wanted to go home.

I said to him: “You speak of dreams. You have a wife. I am sorry for you. I am sorry for us all. But Isabella stands between you and what you hope for.”

And I left him because I wanted to brood on my feelings which were by no means clear to me. There were times when I felt a great relief because Isabella stood between us and there could be no change in our relationship because of this; but at others I was not so sure.

Weeks grew into months. There was an uneasy tension in the house. I was constantly aware of Felipe’s brooding eyes on me. He often visited the nurseries and Roberto, who knew him well, used to clap his hands when he saw him.

Manuela had joined Jennet there and although the two of them were not as friendly as I would have wished them to be there was no outward friction.

My son was nearly two years old. So it was three years since we had left England. Much of it seemed far away, but there were moments which I could remember with such clarity that they might have happened but a day before; and most of these concerned my mother. If I could have seen her and if she could live close to me and if there had been no Isabella I think I would have agreed to marry Felipe.

I was not in love with him; but it was impossible to live in the Hacienda and not respect him. His dignity was unquestionable. His justice was apparent in his treatment of those who offended—not that many dared. He was admirable. He was a man of power and a man in command appealed to me. I knew what marriage would entail with him; he would be no stranger in my bed. I knew that I could expect courtesy, gentleness and now a tenderness in our relationship. He loved me with a quiet intensity which I found comforting. I could see a pleasant life opening out before me. I did not expect to love, as I had loved Carey, but I could accept Felipe, and I thought of all the advantages he could bring to me and my son. Roberto would be heir to vast estates. He would receive the best of educations. He would be brought up in the Catholic church, of course, and he would go to Spain and the fact that he had an English mother would be no hindrance with the power of Don Felipe behind him.

During one of my talks with Felipe I said as much. It would be different if Isabella were not there. On the other hand, I was thankful to her. She prevented my having to make a decision which would have been immensely difficult for me.

So during that time I was living in a period of indecision. I knew now that Don Felipe would never allow me to return to England—either with or without my child. Not that I would consider going without Roberto. And I knew too that Isabella stood between our making any decision.

That this was just an intermediary period was brought home to us by the arrival of Luis Herrera, the man who would in time take Felipe’s place.

Don Luis was a handsome man, slightly younger than Felipe—charming, good-looking, courteous. It was apparent from the first moment that he saw Honey that he was deeply affected by her.

Whenever I looked at her I wondered why Don Felipe should have set such store by me when Honey was there. She was superbly beautiful with her violet eyes and dark hair. I knew that she lacked my vitality; she was no fighter, as I was; it had always been her way to let life flow over her, or if she did feel strongly to brood over it and withdraw into herself.

However, she did none of this with Don Luis and it was clear that they liked each other’s company from the start.

Don Luis brought news from the outside world. The four of us dined together—Honey and Luis, myself and Felipe. Felipe’s excuse for this was that it made a pleasant party.

Luis talked a great deal about England. Since we had left, the rivalry between Spain and England had intensified. We heard that the Queen, so unsafe did she feel on the throne, had imprisoned the Lady Catherine Grey—who had some claim—in the Tower for marrying without royal permission.

“She is afraid that there will be offspring to challenge her rights,” said Don Luis. “Yet she remains unmarried. And how can an unmarried woman beget heirs?”

I winced, but only Felipe noticed.

“She has been mightily sick of the smallpox and it was feared in England, though hoped in Spain, that she would die. Even then she refused to appoint an heir.”

“You forget, Don Luis,” I said, “that you speak of our Queen.”

“A thousand pardons. I thought but to give you the truth.”

“Of course we want the truth,” I replied. “But if our Queen refuses to appoint an heir it is because she knows that many years are left to her and she will beget her own.”

Don Luis was too polite to debate the point.

Honey laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t let Catalina”—they had all begun to call me Catalina—“stop your telling us the news. We long to hear it.”

“I’ll tell you something else,” said Luis. “One of your Captains, John Hawkins, has started dealing in slaves.”

“Dealing in slaves!” I cried.

“Indeed he has. He has fitted three ships and taken them to the Guinea Coast. There he captures Negroes and takes them to that part of the world where he thinks to get the highest price for them.”

“You mean he just picks people as though they were … plants and takes them away from their families. It’s monstrous.”

Felipe was regarding me steadily.

I saw myself … a slave. I saw my little Roberto snatched from me … perhaps taken from me to be a slave himself or left behind while I was carried away in chains. I have always, I think, more than most people, put myself in the places of others; it was one of the reasons I waxed vehement when I thought justice had failed to be done.

Felipe said: “Your English Captain Hawkins has done this. You should not hanker for that island of yours. Is it not true, Luis, that some of the ships used by Hawkins belonged to the Queen of England? And this, Catalina, sets her seal of approval on this horrible trade.”

Luis said: “You should be thankful that you are here…” And he smiled at us both. “Perhaps we all have reasons to be thankful.” He threw a soulful look in Honey’s direction. “For life goes on uncertainly in your island. Each day the English become a greater menace to us on the high seas. We are a great and powerful nation. We intend to colonize the whole world. And one day we shall take over your island too. You will become a vassal of Spain.”

“You do not know us,” I said fiercely. And I thought of Jake Pennlyon then. I would stake all I had on him when set against these courtly gentlemen. Even hating him as I did, I knew that his courage was supreme and his love of his country as natural to him as drawing breath.

“We begin to,” said Luis, smiling gently. “A formidable enemy. Our most formidable! There should be peace between us. We should unite without fighting.”

“That could never be,” I said.

“I think so too,” put in Felipe gently, “but it is a pity.”

“Your country is losing her possessions on the continent of Europe,” went on Luis. “Warwick has surrendered Le Havre to the French. The English will never regain a foothold in France and the only spoils of war which Warwick has brought back to England from France are the plagues. Twenty thousand persons have been carried off by one in and around the city of London.”

I turned pale thinking of my mother and the old days when the sweating sickness had visited the Capital.

It was good to hear news of England though, even if it was not good news. I believed that it was colored to be advantageous to Spain and I could understand that; but how strange it was that the men who loved us (for Luis clearly was in love with Honey) should have been so gratified by the misfortunes which befell those who were dear to us.

Honey explained to me: “I have been without a husband so long, Catalina. I am young.”

“You are older than I.”

“But young. Admit it, Catalina. And I am fond of Luis.”

“You are not in love with him.”

“I can settle for him.”

“And Edward?”

“Edward is dead. You know, don’t you, that we are never going to leave this place. We shall spend the rest of our time here. Even if Don Felipe were willing to let us go, how could we? Could we sail to England in a Spanish galleon and be rowed ashore! ‘Here are your women now returned to you!’ Imagine that. They would have forgotten us at home. What should become of us?”

“You think Mother would ever forget us? Grandmother too. I long to be home with them.”

“I want that too, but it is not to be. We know it is not to be. That is clear. Don Felipe loves you and he loves Roberto. He will never let you go. Be reasonable. He is a good man.”

“A man who is so determined on revenge that he forces a woman to share his bed—not out of lust for her but for revenge.”

“That is over.”

“Over! For you perhaps. You were not violated.”

“And that violation gave you Roberto, whom you love dearly. Try to look at life reasonably, sister. Sometimes good comes from evil. You were brought here against your will and the result is the son whom you love so deeply. The man who sought revenge has found love. Be reasonable. Life does not give you exactly what you most want, but it serves a very palatable dish. Be wise, Catalina, don’t turn away from it.”

“And become his mistress?”

“You would have all the honors of a wife.”

I said coldly: “Talk of yourself, Honey, but leave me out of it.”

“Well,” she said, “I am going to marry Luis.”

“A foreigner, and enemy of our country.”

“What are countries to women who love? I am a woman. I have been long without a husband. I need a husband and Luis is good. He will be a father to Edwina.”

I was silent, and she went on gently: “Perhaps you will go away from here after a while but, I shall stay, for Luis will be Governor in due course.”

“Then we shall say good-bye.”

“Only
au revoir.
Because, Catalina, when our spell is done, and it will not be more than eight years, we shall come to Madrid and there we shall see you in your beautiful home with Roberto and Carlos playing there with their brothers and sisters. Just think of it.”

“A pretty picture,” I said. “Marry your Luis if you so need to marry. Have your children. What matters it, one man is as good as another to some.”

“Why do you speak thus? Ah, I know. It is because my way is plain. Yours is not. You are not indifferent to Felipe. You change when he is in the house. I am sorry Catalina that Isabella stands in your way.”

“Isabella stands in your way.” The phrase haunted me. I dreamed of Felipe often. And he was there at the side of my bed and Isabella was beside him—a pale, shadowy child with a doll in her arms.

Honey and Luis were married in the Cathedral. She was the most beautiful bride I had ever seen and there was about her that serene happiness which had been there before Edwina’s birth.

Honey had always wanted to be loved, had blossomed with love; and there was no doubt that Luis adored her.