He walked with a limp and there were scars on his left cheek and on his wrists. He was tall and stooped a little and had a certain haunted expression in his eyes which I could not forget.

He looked to me like a man who had suffered. A fanatic, I decided, who might well suffer again. Such people made me uncomfortable.

The servants appeared to accept the explanation of his visit. I watched them carefully to see if there was any suspicion, but I missed Jennet, who was such a chatterer and had often unconsciously let me into the secrets of the servants’ quarters. Luce was efficient but taciturn, and I thought then of reinstating Jennet. She was contrite. I was beginning to doubt my motives, though, and I was not sure whether the sight of her angered me because she had betrayed me or because I couldn’t stop thinking of Jake Pennlyon’s laying his lustful hands on her and wondering, of course, whether he had seduced her already.

I did, however, take her back with me the day after John Gregory came.

I lectured her a little. “You will serve me, Jennet,” I reminded her. “If you ever lie to me again I shall have you beaten.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she said demurely.

“And you should be warned not to listen to men’s tales. They will get you with child and then what will happen to you, do you think?”

She blushed scarlet and I said: “Remember it.” I could not bring myself to ask her for details of what had happened between her and Jake Pennlyon because I told myself it was undignified—and yet in a way I did wish to know.

A day passed. I knew that the return of the Pennlyons could not long be delayed. The period of respite was coming to an end.

The Pennlyons were back. One became aware of it at once. Even the servants seemed excited and the tension in Trewynd had increased. Since they had returned the presence of John Gregory in the house had become more dangerous.

It was not long before Jake came riding over. I was expecting him and was prepared. I had told Honey that on no account must she leave us alone together.

He sat in the hall drinking wine. Edward, Honey and myself watched him intently. He seemed bigger, more overbearing, more arrogant and sure of his ability to get what he wanted than I remembered even. I felt the surging hatred rising in me, bringing with it that wild excitement.

The betrothal ceremony was taking place in three days’ time, he announced.

“It’s too soon,” I said.

“Not soon enough,” he corrected me.

“I shall need to prepare.”

“You’ve had all the time I’ve been away to prepare. You’ll have no longer.”

So he was commanding me already.

“The wedding takes place two weeks later,” he said with authority. “And I shall sail a month after that.”

“Where will your voyage take you?” asked Edward politely.

“We’ll be taking a cargo of cloth out to Guinea and come back we hope with gold and ivory. It won’t be a long voyage if I can help it.” He gave me his lascivious grin. “I shall be missing my wife.”

Edward said he wished him fair weather; and they talked about the sea for a while. Jake’s eyes glowed; he talked of the sea with the same intensity that he had talked of our marriage. The sea fascinated him because it was often wild and unpredictable; he would often have to fight it with all the skill he possessed. He was a man who must fight. Always he had to subdue. Marriage with him would have to be an eternal battle, for as soon as he had won he would lose interest. But why should I contemplate marriage with him? That was for some other pitiable female. I was going to play as dangerous a game as he played on his voyages. Perhaps there was a similarity between us because I at last admitted to myself that I enjoyed the fight.

We all went out into the courtyard with him and as we did so John Gregory came out of a side door. There was nothing to do but make the introductions.

Jake Pennlyon’s eyes flicked over him.

“We’ve met before,” he said.

John Gregory looked puzzled. “I do not recall it, sir,” he answered.

Jake narrowed his eyes as though he were trying to look into something which he couldn’t quite make out.

“I’m sure of it,” he insisted. “I don’t easily forget faces.”

“Were you in the North at some time?” asked Edward.

“I never was,” said Jake. “I’ll remember. It escapes me for the moment.”

John Gregory was wrinkling his brow, smiling as though trying to recall, but I fancied that the scar on his cheek seemed to stand out more vividly.

“I was delighted to see my friend,” said Edward warmly. “He has decided to stay with us for a week or so.”

Jake was now looking at me, forgetting John Gregory.

He said: “We shall expect you early at Pennlyon. We can’t have the bride arriving late. It would appear that she was reluctant.”

He took my hand and kissed it. His lips seemed to burn my skin. I wiped it on my gown. He saw the gesture and it amused him.

Then he took his leave.

We went into the house and Edward asked John Gregory: “What did he mean about knowing you?”

“He is suspicious,” said Honey in a frightened voice.

“You have never met him before?” asked Edward.

John Gregory wrinkled his brows for a moment and then said very firmly: “No.”

I dressed myself for my betrothal banquet with the utmost pains. I wished to appear as beautiful as I could for, I assured myself, the sole purpose of making him more angry than ever when he realized he had lost me.

And after the betrothal? What should I do then? I could see no answer than but to go back to the Abbey and my mother. Would he follow me there? He had to leave on his voyage, so how could he come after me?

And Honey and Edward, would he betray them? Surely he would have to prove that Thomas Elders had been celebrating Mass in the chapel. But Elders would be taken and mayhap tortured and then who knew what would emerge? And this man John Gregory? He would have to go away before I left. Of course this was what I must do. I certainly could not ruin my whole life because of the trouble they had brought upon themselves.

For the moment there was the betrothal ball and banquet and I intended to amuse myself as much as I could with them.

Jennet helped me to dress. She was better at this than Luce had been. She brushed my hair until it shone and our reflections in the polished mirror were glowing. There was color in her cheeks and her mass of hair escaped from her cap; she was not exactly a handsome girl but a very desirable one, I could see that. There was something soft and yielding about her; she would be seduced sooner or later I was sure, and I thought it was time to get her married.

I said to her: “Do you like Richard Rackell, Jennet?”

She blushed—she blushed very easily—and lowered her eyes.

“You do,” I said. “There’s no need to be coy about it. If he had a fancy to you perhaps there could be a wedding. The master would mayhap give you one of the cottages and you could continue to work as you do now. You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Why, yes, Mistress.”

“You should be married … soon. I am sure of that. You are somewhat wanton, Jennet, I believe.”

“Oh, no, Mistress. ’Tis just…”

“’Tis just that when they lay hands on you and tell you what a fine wench you are you’d find it difficult to say them nay.”

She giggled.

“You silly girl! And you’re pulling my hair.”

I wanted to say to her: What did Jake Pennlyon do when he had kissed you? Are you going to tell me that it ended with that? But I said no such thing.

She went on brushing my hair. Was she thinking of Jake or Richard Rackell?

I thought I would wear my hair piled high on my head and then I could crown it with the comb I had bought from the peddler.

“Frizzing be the fashion, Mistress, and I can frizz,” said Jennet.

“I follow my own fashions. I do not wish to look like every other fashionable woman, nor like any serving wench.”