Mistress Penwick Part 33

"Then I had best keep quiet and wait to see what will happen."

"There is naught else for thee to do, for surely thou canst not go below, thou wouldst be seen, and--"

"--and, what, Sweet?"

"--and be taken prisoner."

"And wouldst thou be pained, Sweet?" He drew her close, his dark curls swept her face as he bent his head. Nor did he wait for an answer, but plied her with another question that the moment and the closeness gave license to. "Wilt give, Sweet, the nuptial kiss--'tis my due?" She raised her head from his shoulder ever so slightly to answer him, but the words came not, for his lips were upon hers. She was thrilled with his tenderness; 'twas more than she ever could have thought. And as he held her close, she, not unwilling, declared separation would be instant death. She wondered how she ever could have withstood love so long. And he kissed her again and again, saying heaven could not offer greater favour. "Dost feel happy now, Sweet?"

She answered not, but stood, her head leant against the rare and scented lace of his steenkirk, held captive, trembling with an ecstasy too sweet to be accounted for.

"Thou dost tremble, Kate; has thy fear not left thee yet?"

"Nay," came soft and breathless from her full red lips. "I am still afraid."

"But what dost thou fear now, so close wrapped?"

"I know not; 'tis a strange fear. If thou shouldst be taken from me, I should die; 'tis this I fear most of all, and even for a separation--nay, nay, I could not live."

"Oh, Sweet, 'tis excess of gladness that thou art wife--wife, the word alone fills me with rapturous exaltation. Wouldst be glad if we had never met thus, should separation come?"

"Nay, a thousand times, nay, these moments are worth more than all my life heretofore."

"Hast forgotten, I must leave the castle before very long, and an _adieu_ must be said to thee?"

"I have not forgotten, but 'twill only be for a day. 'Twould be hazardous for thee to go until everything is quiet about."

"And until I have quieted thy fears; until I have told thee of a strong man's love--my love for thy glorious, youthful beauty. Thy hair, Kate, is more precious than all the amber and bronze the world holds; 'tis rich, soft and heavy, with glorious waves. Thy face so filled with love's blushes warms my breast where it doth lie. The glory of thy eyes that are ever submerging me in their azure depths.

Thy slender, white neck and graceful sloping shoulders. Indeed, Sweet, thou art wonderfully made. There could not be a more perfect being.

And thou art mine, Sweet; 'tis a wonder that rough man could be so blest. Thou dost often feign coldness, Kate, and now I wonder where thou didst find such condition. 'Twas most unnatural, and how thou couldst so well a.s.sume it--but I have found thy true heart. Sweet Kate, thou hast at last fallen victim to Cupid's darts, and fortune hath played me fair and put me in the way to receive such priceless gift, whose dividends are to be all my own." His warm words came so fast and he was so pa.s.sionate and tender that Katherine took fright and thought 'twas not like Sir Julian to be so, and yet to have him otherwise? nay, she loved him thus, and she remembered the moment he had pressed her hand as they rode through the forest; aye, he could be as loving and tender as--as--She did not finish the thought, for her lord's jewelled fingers had caught her hand and his arm held her close, pressing her tenderly; his lips resting upon hers until she grew faint with his ardour.

At last night paled into dawn. The c.o.c.ks began to crow l.u.s.tily. About the edges of the great windows in the chamber the light began to peep as if loath to cast one disturbing glance athwart the room. There was a fluttering sigh from the folds of the maiden's handkerchief as her lover bent over her, saying,--

"_Adieu_, Sweet, _adieu_ once more. Let me kiss thy eyelids close until they pent these tears that parting hath wrung from thee, and yet, were they not, I would be without weapon, void of panoply, equipped not--"

"But thy urgent tongue and tenderness doth armour thee for conquest!"

"Aye, 'tis love's armour; but thy tears make me strong to enter strife with men. I know 'tis love drives thee, and when that love is for me, I can win all battles."

"Thou must haste before dawn, or thou wilt be taken; for we do not know whether the young man still lives; and Lord Cedric will kill thee if he can."

"There is no doubt but what he lives. His Grace's physicians have no doubt healed the burden of his pain long ago. But do not thou think of him, think only of this sweet night and--dream of our meeting again.

And if his lordship keeps thee prisoner, tell Janet thou art fast wed and she will help thee to our _rendezvous_ to-morrow. Pray, Sweet, that the day may be short, for now I see only cycles of time until the set of morrow's sun."

Dawn broke into a new day. Sunshine bathed old Earth in golden splendour. The day grew warm, as higher and higher leapt Phoebus, until he rested high and hot upon Zenith's bosom, causing all mankind to pant by his excess.

Slowly Katherine raised her lazy eyelids until the shining blue beneath lay in quivering uncertainty. She smiled up at Janet, saying, sleepily,--

"I've a notion not to arise to-day. 'Twill be long and wearisome, and hot. What is the use? There is nothing in the world to get up for!"

"Indeed there is a very great deal to get up for. 'Tis a glorious day.

The gardens are aglow with beauty and the air is fine, though warm."

"I know, Janet, and 'tis thy desire that I arise, but the castle seems most empty. Their Graces have departed and--"

"Nay, not so. There has been a great change in the Duke, and the physicians will not allow his leaving his couch."

"Ah, I'm sorry! What time did this change take place?" said Katherine with a feeling of subtleness that for once she had tricked Janet and knew of great things that had happened in the deep night, when her faithful nurse thought her in dreamland.

"Her Grace says there was a great change in him yesterday, that she noticed it as he ate his dinner."

"And was there no change in the night?" said Katherine sagely.

"Speak out, Lambkin, that 'tis on thy mind--if thou dost mean, was he disturbed when the castle was aroused?--why, no, he was not."

"But how didst thou know there was an arousal?"

"I did play the simpering bride's maid, and stood for witness to thine espousal."

"Ah! ah! ah! Janet, I can keep no secret from thee!" Quickly she sprang to the floor. Her foot struck her lover's sword. She stooped and raised it, and there flashed forth from the jewel encrusted handle the n.o.ble armourial bearings, charged upon a gold escutcheon, of Lord Cedric's house. Wonderingly, she examined it and swept her brow with the back of her slender hand. Slowly she spoke, and in a voice vibrant with portent, her eyes now wide open.

"This--this doth trend to set my brain a-whirl, and doth connive to part sense from understanding and mind from body. To be sure, 'twas dark,--and allowing that I was well-nigh intoxicated with love--my brain could truly swear 'twas Sir Julian; and yet this he flung aside doth confute reason, and I must either ponder upon the this and that in endeavouring to conjoin mental and physical forces to sweet amity or give over that reaching wife's estate hath made of me a sordid fool, as hath it oft made woman heretofore. My senses up until I met one of two at the foot of the stair, I could make affidavit on. The mould of either could well trick the other, providing their heads were as muddled as mine, and in this matter I am also clear. 'Twas meet to speak lowly and the voice was not betrayed. But--there was some restraint at first; for his words came slow and with much flaunting of French--indeed 'twas overdone.--And the duel--ah! ah!--'twas Cedric's 'Nay, nay, nay!--' with an oath that had no note of Sir Julian in it.

And hard he strove not to fight, nor did he until the other cried out to him--I see it all plainly; 'twas Cedric, 'twas Cedric! If I could mistake all else, I could not mistake his pa.s.sion; 'twas: 'Kate' this, and 'Kate' that. Sir Julian never called me else than Katherine. And his words were over plain, and in truth they became not so slow and studied, and there was a leaving off of French. 'Twas he! Ah! and he was so sweet and gentle and near drowned me by his tenderness--'twas such sweet love--" Quickly she hid her blushing face in the pillow, for she forgot she was speaking aloud.

"Hast thou then married mind to body? If thou hast them well mated and art sure thou art through espousing, I will straightway wed thee to thy clothes, that thou mayest first pay thy respects to their Graces, then go out into the sunshine and walk thee up and down for the half of an hour, where, 'tis most like thou wilt find thy lord, who is too impatient to remain indoors."

"Nay, I shall not see him!"

"Tut, Lambkin! thou wouldst not play the shrew to so n.o.ble a lord, that soon, no doubt, will be a great Duke?"

"He hath tricked and deceived me. I will punish him for it. Nay; I have no mind to see him. I could not bear it, Janet. 'Twas this he meant, for I wondered when he said he had fought two duels and had been victor in both. Nay; he shall not see me nor I him." And with these thoughts came others, and thus she fostered malice, promoting but a puny aversion that she cherished the more for its frailty.

"Art thou set upon affecting the manners of an orange girl?"

"Janet, I would not make feint at that I am not."

"Neither would I, if 'twere me, make feint at that thou art. If thou hast the name of Lady, I would fit my demeanour to the word. And it should be an easy thing, for thou art born to the manner."

"But bad nursing doth corrupt good blood!"

"And a froward child doth denote a spared rod!"

"And moral suasion is oft an ethical farce!"

"A votary of non-discipline is impregnable to ethics."

"Oh, Janet, dear Janet, I am weary. How is the young man that was wounded?"