Читать книгу Mistress Penwick - Dutton Payne - Страница 10

She did not waken until aroused by the grinding of wheels upon the gravel beneath the window. A servant brought coals and wood and built a roaring fire that warmed her chilled bones. She ordered her mistress' breakfast for eleven o'clock, and locking the door upon the retreating lackey, settled herself in the chair again and fell asleep. She was next awakened by a smart rap upon the door. The servant stood upon the threshold gazing at the vision of beauty that had raised upon her elbow in the bed, and was looking with inquiring eyes.

"His Lordship begs Mistress Penwick to step to the library after her breakfast."

"Step, to be sure, thou hadst better bring a chariot to cart her there, and 'twould be out of the question for her to go before getting anything into her stomach to strengthen her for the journey."

"Shall I tell him so, mum?" said the servant, with a look of roguery in his eyes.

"'Twould become thee better to tell him without asking if thou shouldst. Avaunt, get thee gone on thy mission." Then turning to Katherine—"'Twould have to come sooner or later and 'tis best sooner I'm thinking," and Janet stepped to draw the curtains to let in but a sickly grey light. "Ah, there is a great snowstorm! and there seems to be a large party about to set forth a hunting." And indeed there arose to their ears a great noise of baying hounds and the tramping of horses in the courtyard, and voices were raised high and merry. There was a rattle of spurs and champing of bits; and as the two women looked from the window the party set forth.

"Thou wilt go with me, Janet?"

"As far as the library door. I will listen and peep through the keyhole when no one is passing."

A lackey came to conduct Mistress Katherine below. He looked surprised

at Janet as she followed them, neither was his curiosity appeased when

Mistress Penwick passed through the library door, and the severe-faced

Janet sat down upon a ponderous chair in the corridor just outside.

'Twas a great room with enormous fireplaces, and in front of one of them stood Lord Cedric. There was a smile on his face as he noted his ward's surprise. She looked upon him with interest and finally spoke—

"Lord Cedric sent for me; he is not here," and she retreated as if to leave the room.

"Nay, do not leave until thou hast become acquainted with Cedric of Crandlemar." He held out his hand to her longingly, pleadingly, and stood thus before her; his figure of an Adonis silhouetted by the flames that reached above his head in the great chimney behind him. His face and form was a match for her own. A hunting-coat wrapped his broad shoulders; his beauteous limbs were encased in high-field boots, showing well his fine masculine mould.

"How many lords of Crandlemar are there?" she asked, almost contemptuously.

"One, only," and he still held out his hand with a gesture of entreaty. "I was the ill-humoured, boisterous man in Scotch attire last night. I beg thee to forgive and forget it. Come—come—thou art my ward."

"But my Lord Cedric is an old man, as old as my father, and is

Scotch."

"Thou art speaking of my father; he has been dead five years. Thy father did not know of his death when he sent thee to England. And my mother"—his voice trembled—"died when I was born. I was reared without a woman's love. Angel was too old to teach me tenderness. She has tried to guide me; but Kate—thy father calls thee so—I have had no one to love me like thee. I have lived a wild, boisterous life in Scotland most of the time, and after father died I went to France. I have lived wickedly, Kate; I have given myself over to oaths, and—and—and—drink;—'twas so last night when I saw for the first time the woman I loved; who was as fair in face, form and soul, as all I had ever pictured or dreamed. Wilt thou forget my course tongue and try—try—to—to—to love me, Kate. Thou wilt say 'tis soon to speak so to thee; but why keep back that 'tis best for me to say and thou to know?" She could not mistake the ring of truth in his voice that was now so pleading.

"Come, come,"—and as if a happy thought occurred, reached into his pocket and drew forth a letter;—"here is thy proof that I am Lord Cedric; thy father's letter," he held it toward her. She came and reached her hand for it, timidly. His Lordship was one of the most passionate of youths, nor could he restrain his ardour. He caught her hand and drew her to him, meeting her graceful body with his own; his hot breath was upon her hair, and he panted forth;—"Kate, Kate, I love thee," his arm was reaching about her, when she called Janet stoutly. The door was flung open and the nurse's face looked upon the youth like an ominous thing of strength—then surprise broke over it and she spoke forth—

"Who art thou, perfidious youth?"

"I am Cedric of Crandlemar, and I was saluting my ward." Janet took her mistress from him as he half supported her, and sat down, drawing her into her lap. Katherine fell to weeping.

"What has happened to thee, Lambkin?"

"I don't know," sobbed Katherine, "assure me if 'tis Lord Cedric."

"We will accept him, anyway, for 'tis a better subject than my Lord Scot of last night." Thereupon Cedric fell upon one knee at Janet's feet, and bent his handsome head to Katherine's hand and kissed it.

"Nay, nay, thy lips burn me, and I hate thee for it!" She wiped her hand upon her dress, and turned her head from Janet's bosom and cast a scornful glance through her tears.

"I love her, Janet, and she hates me. Her father gave her to me to love and guard and—marry, 'tis in the letter so; and she shall—"

"Thou talkest too strong to so young a maid; thou must remember that she is but fifteen, and never used to beaux. Thou art the first man beside her father to so much as touch her hand."

"She fifteen, 'tis not possible!" and his enamoured glance swept her form—"'tis not possible." Mistress Katherine's colour blenched and heightened, for the ardent masculine eyes made her like and hate in turn; his countenance glowed with warm youthfulness which both attracted and repulsed her; and she hid her face again upon Janet's shoulder.

"'Tis rather young to become wife, but I cannot live away from her, I must have her."

"Nay, thou must wait until she is past sixteen, and knows her own mind."

"I cannot wait, Janet, I am too inflammable, she consumes me with her beauty."

"Then I had better take her where thou canst not see her."

"Nay, nay, she shall not leave me for a day nor hour. She is mine absolutely, and I'll have her. I have found what is more precious than all else to me." As Katherine's eyes were hid, Janet placed her fingers upon her lips, enjoining silence upon the passionate man before her. 'Twas a simple thing, but Cedric knew from that moment he had gained a powerful ally. He rose to his feet, and, in softened tones, continued—"'Tis the first time I have ever loved, and 'tis natural I should be impetuous;" then in a tone that was full of magnanimity—"I will give thee time to rest from thy long journey before we buy the wedding garments, I will give thee a whole week." Then 'twas that Katherine spoke—

"A whole week, indeed, I shall not marry thee at all, never, I hate thee. Thou wilt give me my heritage and I will go from thy house; my father gave it and me into thy father's care not thine, I will write to him at once and tell him of this terrible mistake."

"Thy father is—" he caught himself in time.

"Thy father is—what?" And she looked at him closely.

"Is too far away over seas, and—might be hard to find."

"Then I will go to him."

"Thou wilt remain where thou art."

"Thou talkest like foolish children. 'Twould better become thee to prattle of frocks and fixings for my Lady Penwick. Your Lordship will see to it at once?" It was a happy suggestion. Cedric leant over Katherine.

"Come, tell me what thou wilt have from London town? thou shalt have all thy heart asks for."

"Thou art generous with my belongings." 'Twas an unfriendly cut.

"Come, Mistress, what will thou have, make out a list and I will send it by a courier."

"I prefer to go myself."

"I have guests and cannot go with thee at the present—and thou canst not go without me; but thou shalt have the more for this very cause. Come, tell me thy heart's desire. Be good to me Kate, I love thee so; I must tell thee, it cuts me to the quick to have thee so set against me. Thou wilt espouse me some day, sweet one?" Katherine stood up and shot a withering glance full upon him.

"Nay, nay, nay—thou wilt let me go from thee!"

"I beg thy pardon, Mistress Penwick, I will urge thee no more now; but tell me thy wishes. Thou will have first of all, a beautiful hat with feathers reaching to thy shoulder-tips, and dainty brocade gowns with boots of the same hue, and jewelled fans, and ribbons and laces and all kinds of furbelows, and I will give thee to-day some jewels, rings, and—"

"And a necklace like Constance has?" put in Katherine, unthinkingly.

"Constance—where didst thou see her?" His voice and manner showed annoyance. "Where didst see her, Kate?" There was a blush on her face as she answered,

"At the ball."

"Thou wert not there," he said, incredulously.

"Janet and I looked on from the gallery, and Constance stood beneath us. 'Twas a beautiful thing that encircled her throat."

"Aye, they were pearls; but thou shalt have a circlet that wilt not so hide thy pink hued neck. To-day, Kate, I will give thee some gems and thou shalt go with me to the great chests and see the laces they contain;—and thy colours, Kate, what are thy favourite colours?"

"I love white and violet." A happy smile covered Cedric's face.

"'Tis my mother's choice and by that I hit upon thy fancy as thou shalt soon see." Cedric racked his brain for more pleasant things to say. "And thou shalt have a horse and learn to ride."

"Oh, Janet, to have a horse all my own! 'tis too good to be true; 'tis a thing I have dreamt of." And the delighted girl flung herself at Janet's feet and embraced her knees from sheer ecstasy. It seemed peace had come to stay; and for a moment Cedric looked upon her with eyes full of admiration and, yes, heart full of love; then—

"Art sure thou hast thought of all thou wouldst have, is the list complete, Janet; canst thou not suggest something more? I will send it to one of the court mantua-makers and if thou sendest the proper measurements our lady will soon be a modish butterfly." At the word modish a sudden thought came to Katherine and she leant over and whispered in Janet's ear; then Janet said:

"She must have a pair of stays with each frock."

"Nay, nay, she shall not have stays to pinch so fair a mould; she shall not have stays, nay, nay, sweet Kate." 'Twas then Mistress Penwick flew into a passion. She clinched her fists and her face grew scarlet; she shook her head and threw glances like sword-thrusts at Cedric, and said not a word but stamped her foot. As she did so, she saw that in Cedric's eyes that made her calm her passion on a sudden. 'Twas steel against steel. It was Janet's voice that drew Katherine's attention; for it had in it something it never had heretofore; it was full of reproach.

"Lambkin, thou art too young for either stays or such a show of passion. I beg thee to quench thy evil spirit, it does not become thee." Katherine bent her head and turned from them toward the door. Cedric called,

"Do not leave until we have all things settled! Kate, dost hear me speaking?" She pretended deaf ears. "Kate," he said, with emphasis, "dost hear me? Mistress Pen wick, hear me, heed, heed!" he thundered, and stamped his foot, the spurs rattling upon the hearthstone. She turned about reluctantly and rested her hand upon the great oaken table, looking at Janet as if it had been she that had spoken. Cedric drew himself up proudly, and spoke in a firm, full voice,

"I am thy father, brother, guardian, anything that love could be to thee, and all that I have is thine, and when thou art with me thou mayest do as thy heart dictates, but when thou shalt cross yonder threshold thou shalt conduct thyself as becomes a daughter and mistress of the castle. I have beneath my roof guests—my kinswoman, Lady Constance, whom I have bidden to remain indefinitely, she being so near of kin has been mistress here; but, from the moment thou didst enter the portal of Cedric's house, 'twas thou became mistress, thou—thou mistress of my home, and heart as well; thou wilt accept the former mission, and I will fight with all of cupid's weapons until thou dost accept the latter. 'Tis a pragmatic duty to follow my words and understand them and demean thyself accordingly. To-night thou wilt come to the drawing-room at the prandium hour, and 'twill be my pleasure to seat thee at table, and 'twould be best if I acknowledged our espousal."

"Nay, nay, I will not come then."

"Thou shalt come if thou art in the castle," Janet's scowling face under cover of the high-backed chair stopped his lordship's impetuosity, "hast a frock, Kate? thou shalt go to the chest and find for thee some bright thing and I will send from Crandlemar a woman to help thee with thy attire. Angel will come to take thee to see the jewels, and thou shalt have those thou carest to take. I would see thy choice, Kate. I can almost guess it now. So come, Kate, the storm without should insure good cheer within; and with thy bright face the castle will be aglow. Come, say au revoir, Kate." She held out her hand and faltered forth au revoir. There was the language of the convent in that one word and it rung sweet upon her ear. He took her hand between his own and bent and kissed it tenderly, "au revoir, au revoir" he said, then turned quickly from her.

Outside stood old flabby-face, as Janet pleased to call her, when alone with Katherine, but designated by the servants as Sophia.

"His Ludship ordered Mistress Penwick's room changed."

"Thou dost mean, rather, he advised a change of room; 'twould be difficult to convey the tower chamber elsewhere."

It was a beautiful room into which Sophia led them and beyond were others belonging to the same suite, all in white and gold, with mirrors and painted walls garlanded with cupids and floral wreaths, and silken curtains at bed and windows; and cushions and beautiful venuses and rare potpourri. And when they were quite alone Janet strutted up and down the rooms enjoying the fulness of her cup.

"'Tis more than thou dreamed again, eh, Lady Pen wick? Thou hast fallen heir to a queen's portion without the ennui of satiety."

"Truly 'tis a wondrous castle; but Janet can Lord Cedric espouse me because he is my guardian?"

"Nay, child, but he loves thee, and he means to win thee if 'tis possible. He is young and self-willed and passionful, and he will have his own way. Dost like him, Lambkin?"

"Somewhat, but I hate him most."

"Thou wilt impeach thy sweet tongue by that viscid 'hate'; thou hadst better indulge in less of devil's warfare and leave room for digestion of gentle peace. Thou hast bloomed into a beauteous maid, but thy temper hath blown also. My lord hast seen many beauties that he could have for the asking, and they are doubtless meek and gentle creatures with soft and ready answer; but if thy cantankerous untowardness continues he will set thee down as a shrewish wench and will heartily dislike thee."

"Nay, I would not have any one dislike me."

"Then cease thy uprisings." There came a low knock, and an old grey-haired woman stepped into the room with that in her face Janet stood up to honour. She advanced to Katherine and in a trembling voice said,

"Thou art my lord's ward—ah, I remember thy father well; thou art a Penwick over and over again, I could see it with half an eye. I knew thy father when he was a mere lad, so high; he had as bonny a face as one cared to see. They tell me thou didst expect to see here my poor master; is't so? Aye—well thou hast found his son, the blessedst man that walks the earth. He has a wicked, bad tongue at times, but he means nothing. I nursed him and his father, and am longing for a wife for his lordship." Then: "I am Angel Bodkin, and have come to conduct thee to the vaults." She led them forth, talking all the while.