The Lion Triumphant (40 page)

“I believe,” I said, “that one of the most exciting things about going to sea is coming home.”

“Home,” he said. “Yes—home.” And I knew he meant me.

Being Jake, the first thing he needed was the physical satisfaction of our union. He came straight up to our bedroom holding me firmly as though he feared I would try to escape him.

“Cat,” he said. “Still the same. I’ve wanted you so much I’ve almost turned the
Lion
around and come back to you.”

I wondered with how many women he had soothed his needs for one, but I did not ask.

The house was filled with the smell of cooking food—that delicious odor of hot crusty bread, the savory one of pasties and cooking meats.

I knew that he would be hungry for such food after the kind of fare he would have had so long at sea.

He said: “And the boy? I want to see the boy.”

He stared at me, for he had seen the sorrow in my face.

“There was no boy,” I told him. “I miscarried.”

“My God, not again.”

I was silent.

His disappointment was bitter. He turned on me: “How is it that you could get a boy from that poxy Spaniard and not from me?”

Still I did not speak. He shook me. “What happened? You did not take care. You were stupid … careless. …”

“I was neither. It just happened. There was no reason.”

He bit his lips, his heavy brows drawn together.

“Am I to have no son?”

I retorted: “No doubt you have many scattered about the world. You have two under this roof.”

Then he looked at me and his anger faded. “Cat, how I’ve longed for you!”

I was sorry for him suddenly and I said with more tenderness than I had shown him before: “We’ll have sons. Of course we’ll have sons.”

Then he was gay again. Remembering that he was home after two years away.

In the great dining hall the tables were loaded with food. We were seated as at a banquet. At the table on the dais I sat beside Jake. The children were there too—Roberto on my left, Carlos on Jake’s right, and Jacko beside him. On the other side of Roberto sat Romilly. Jake had said she should be one of the family. In two years she had grown a good deal; she was tall, still willowy, and she was attractive because of her wonderful green eyes.

Jake had greeted her warmly and asked how she fared. She had bobbed a curtsy and raised respectful and admiring eyes to his face. As Captain Girling’s daughter no doubt she would have heard stirring stories of Captain Jake Pennlyon.

The servants filled the center table and there was much drinking and revelry.

It had been difficult to keep Carlos and Jacko interested in their lessons since the Captain had returned, Mr. Merrimet complained. Romilly used to go and help him in the schoolroom and as she was growing into an attractive young girl with a quiet demeanor I did wonder whether they might make a match of it. She must be nearly fifteen years of age and it would sooner or later be necessary to find a husband for her.

Roberto studied with a fervor greater than before. I think he was very anxious to do well at what he was good at; and I knew that he lived in terror of Jake.

When the Ennises came there was always a good deal of talk about affairs of state and these all seemed to center around the Queen of Scots.

She was at this time in England, having escaped from Lochleven, where she had been incarcerated, and had lost the battle of Langside. She had, foolishly it was said, come over the border to escape the Scottish lairds and so placed herself in the hands of Elizabeth.

“Our Sovereign Lady’s prisoner,” Jake said with satisfaction. “That will take care of her.”

But it seemed she was as dangerous in England as she had been in Scotland. A casket had been found in which were letters said to have been written by her to Bothwell. Some were of the opinion that they were forgeries; if they were not and had indeed been written by her, then she was a guilty woman, adulteress and murderess.

There were arguments at our table about the authenticity of these casket letters. I grew rather apprehensive. Aubrey Ennis was cautious, but Alice declared hotly that they were forgeries. Jake, who saw all Papists as criminals of the worst degree, was certain that Mary had written the letters, that she had committed adultery with Bothwell while married to Darnley and that she had had a hand in the murder.

“She’s an enemy of our Queen and country,” he declared. “The sooner her head parts company with her body, the better.”

I used to try to change the subject. I had heard that a strange gamble had been introduced into the country. It was called a lottery.

“People get a number,” explained Ennis. “Or so I’ve heard. If that is one of the lucky numbers there’s a prize.”

“They say,” I went on, “that the sale of tickets went on day and night from January to May.”

“A great number of people must take part if the prizes are to be worthwhile.”

“A lottery,” I said. “How I should have loved to see them at the door of St. Paul’s.”

But we could not talk long of the lottery, novel though it might be, and the conversation drifted back to that lady who seemed to have an ability to attract trouble and supporters and to cause friction in families.

The Earls of Northumberland and Westmorland had raised a rebellion in the North, but this had come to nothing. Heads had fallen in the affair. More would doubtless follow in the years to come, for trouble there would always be while Queen Mary lived.

After such conversation Jake would often express his suspicion that our neighbors were secret Papists and I was always afraid there would be trouble.

I had become pregnant again.

“If you don’t give me a son this time,” said Jake, “I’ll clap you in irons and make you walk the plank.”

I laughed. I had a feeling that this time I could not fail.

Jake was going on a brief voyage to Southampton in connection with his next venture and proposed to take the boys. He said nothing to me but went into the schoolroom where they were at their lessons and told them of the proposition. Carlos and Jacko were wild with joy. I did not have to imagine Roberto’s reaction.

I tackled Jake when he came to our bedroom.

I said: “What is this voyage I hear about?”

“A short one. I want to give the boys a taste of the sea.”

“Take Carlos and Jacko by all means.”

“I shall take your brat as well.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“You are foolish over that boy. Do you want to turn him into a good-for-nothing?”

“He is good for a great deal. He is a scholar who can put your bastards to shame in the schoolroom.”

“Schoolroom! Who cares for schoolrooms! That boy needs hardening.”

“You will leave me to bring up my son as I wish.”

“He lives under my roof. He will therefore not disgrace me with his whining ways.”

He laughed at me.

Carlos and Jacko could not attend to their lessons. They were constantly shrieking about the house. One would hear their shrill voices: “Aye, aye, Captain. When do we put to sea? We await the tide, Captain.”

Jake laughed at them, cuffed them, pulled their hair and jeered at them; and they adored him.

I said: “They will be like you when they grow up.”

The day came when they were to sail. Nothing more had been said about Roberto’s going. I had promised him he should not go.

They were to sail at night, the winds being favorable. They would not be away very long. Jake would do his business in Southampton and then return. It would be a lesson to the boys, he said, for he was certain that Carlos and Jacko were going to sea.

That afternoon Carlos and Jacko said good-bye to me and were rowed out to the ship. Jennet, Romilly and I stood on the shore waving to them.

I went back to the house, satisfied that I had saved Roberto from an ordeal which he would have found intolerable.

The
Rampant Lion
sailed that night. I saw her go from my bedroom and I smiled to picture the boys’ excitement and Jake’s pride in them.

I might have guessed Jake would outwit me. I discovered from Jennet that Jake had taken Roberto on board earlier so that he could make the trip with them.

Roberto came back none the worse for his adventure and I quarreled with Jake.

He laughed at me.

“Why, it will do the boy good. Not that he’ll ever make a sailor. Not like Carlos and Jacko. By God, they’re boys a man can be proud of.”

The summer was hot and the burden I carried exhausting. I was now very much aware of it. A lively child, more so than Roberto had been. What one would expect of Jake’s boy.

Jake went away again for a short voyage—this time to London, where the Queen had wished to see him. He came back in high spirits.

“What a woman!” he cried. “She talked severely to me about sea rovers like myself. We were causing trouble with the King of Spain, she said. We were robbing them, and robbery was something she could not tolerate. And all the time she talked to me there was a twinkle in her eye.”

“She has had her share of the treasure you have brought home,” I said.

“So she has and so she remembers. She wanted a private interview with me and there she laughed with me and she made it clear that she liked what I was doing, liked it very much. She is the Queen and at this time it is amusing and necessary to deceive the Spaniards. ‘Not always so, my good Captain,’ she said. ‘There’ll come a day…’ And in the meantime she commands me to go on … just as I have been doing and the more Spaniards I blow into the sea and the more treasure I bring back to England, the better she likes it. Why, Cat, she loves her roving adventures and she made me feel Captain Jake Pennlyon was by no means the least of them.”

He could not stop talking about the Queen.

“When she was born,” I said, “there was a great to-do because she was not a boy. They say Queen Anne Boleyn would never have lost her head if Elizabeth had been a boy. Yet could there have been a better Sovereign?”

Jake conceded that there was no Sovereign nor ever would anywhere in the world to match up to Our Lady Elizabeth.

My lying in chamber was prepared and I was ready and waiting. It was not a difficult labor. I awoke in the morning to find the child on the point of being born. The midwife was in the house. She had been there for two weeks, so eager were we that nothing should go wrong.

In the early afternoon of an August day in the year 1570 my child was born.

I lay there exhausted, then suddenly I was filled with joy for I heard the cry—the lusty cry—of a child.

I closed my eyes. I had succeeded. My child was alive and well.

The midwife came in and Jake was with her. I smiled at him, but immediately I saw the blank disappointment that was almost rage in his face.

“The child … ?” I began.

“A girl,” he shouted. “Just a girl.”

Then he went out.

I said to the midwife: “Bring my child to me,” and she was brought and laid in my arms. I loved her small, red, crumpled face. From the moment I held her in my arms I wanted her just as she was.

Jake’s brooding anger continued. He had been so certain that the child would be a boy. I knew he had pictured himself bringing up a child that would be like himself and taking him to sea with him. He had wanted that boy as he had rarely wanted anything.

He did not come near me for two days. I did not care. I had my little girl.

“She’s a bonny child,” said the midwife. “I’ll swear she knows you.”

I wondered about a name for my little girl. If it had been a son it would have been Jake, of course. She reminded me in those early days of a little bird nestling against me, I called her my little Linnet. I decided this should be her name.

A month or so after the birth of Linnet, Jake was ready to sail away. For all I knew he might be away for two years. Before he left I decided to speak to him about Romilly. The girl was growing up and was now marriageable. I thought that she and Mr. Merrimet might have a fancy for each other. Romilly was often in the schoolroom and helped him there and they were suited to each other. Would there be any objection to my making a match for them?

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “If they wish it let them,” he said.

“They could stay on here. Mr. Merrimet can take on the education of Linnet and other children we will have.”

“It’s a capital plan,” said Jake. “Get them wed. I feel a duty toward Girling and I’d like his daughter to remain one of the family. The Court’s big enough to hold them.”

On a glorious October day, as a fresh wind was billowing the sails of the
Lion
and the other two ships which accompanied her, we stood on the Hoe until the ships dropped below the horizon.

Almost immediately I set about arranging the match for Romilly. I spoke first to her. She was a demure girl and had grown quite pretty. Her green eyes had taken on a fresh sparkle.

I said to her: “Romilly, it is time you thought of marriage. Have you done so?”

“I … I have thought of it,” she admitted.

I smiled. “Well, you are no longer a child. I have seen you in the schoolroom and I believe you and Mr. Merrimet are quite good friends.”

She blushed. “Yes, we are good friends.”

“Perhaps you might feel he would make a good husband. I see no reason why he should not.”

She was silent.

“Of course,” I went on, “if you do not wish this, then we will drop the matter.”

“Has the Captain said aught of this?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact, he has. I discussed it with him before he left. Like myself, he thinks it is time you married and he thinks, too, that Mr. Merrimet would be a suitable husband. If you married him you might stay here in the house and Mr. Merrimet could continue to teach. The boys will need him for some time and then Linnet will be ready. The Captain feels a duty to your father and is happy at the thought of your remaining under our roof.”

She was still silent and I went on: “Perhaps I have been too precipitate.”

“If I could have time to consider…”

“But of course. There is no hurry. It is entirely a matter for you to decide. But when you have made up your mind tell me and then we can sound Mr. Merrimet.”