"If she knows naught of the frailties of all mankind and the Court in particular, I should say as thou art her rightful guardian and the suitor chosen of her father, and 'twas thy wish for her immediate espousal, 'twould best serve thee to use all manner of means to gain her consent, and if this prove abortive, I would abduct the maid and have thy Chaplain ready to marry thee to her; and after he p.r.o.nounces thee man and wife, what can she do but love thee straightway for thy strong handling; 'tis the way of women. I would marry such a beauty in haste, ere another takes the vantage."

Lord Cedric chose Mistress Penwick for the brantle and led her forth.

They moved with such majestic grace, they attracted all eyes. It seemed Cedric could not contain himself for love of Kate, and he vowed to gain her ear this very night and know for a certainty if she would ever marry with him.

It pleased Mistress Penwick to dance with Cedric, for she was more at ease with him than any other, and she was hardly pleased when he bade her rest and took her to another room, where they were quite alone.

But she would not sit down, and stood fanning and smiling up into his face, saying half pettishly:

"Thou art soon tired; the brantle has just begun."

"Kate, hast thou patience?"

"Aye, but 'tis of dwarfish mould."

"Kate, dost love any human being?"

"Aye, 'tis a poor thing that loves not."

"Dost love me, Kate?"

"As a father or brother and as one should love her father's best friend."

"Then--give me a--kiss as thou wouldst give thy brother." The hot blood suffused her face. At sight of it, Cedric's heart leapt with a mighty gladness.

"Not having had a brother, I know not how to give that thou askest;--and 'tis unseemly of thee to ask for that that makes one blush for very shame to be questioned of."

"Blushes are not always for shame--'tis for love, sometimes. Kate, 'tis time I knew thy heart, for thou knowest I am about to die for love of thee. Dost not understand that thy father wished thee to marry at an early age and to marry the son of his bosom friend to whom he gave his daughter's keeping?"

"Nay, he said naught of my marriage with thee, as he knew not thou wert in existence."

"Aye, of a truth he hath done so; it is here next my heart," and he drew forth Sir John's letter. "Wilt read but the lines I show thee; for there are secrets belonging to thy father and me alone?" He marked the lines with his jewelled finger, his love locks falling against her cheek as she read: "My last wish and the one of greatest import to my child is that thou find for her a spouse of rank and fortune. 'Tis my desire she marry early to such an one.--Ah! Cedric, if thou had hadst a son, their union would have been our delight--"

"Ah! ah!" and Katherine's eyes grew wide. "Thou hast said naught of this--as it appears here before me now; and it might have been too late."

"Too late! What meanest thou?"

"The n.o.ble--nay, now I cannot tell thee, for 'tis a secret but half mine."

"My G.o.d! who dares have secrets with thee save thy nurse and guardian; whose d.a.m.ned heart hath played the lover to thee?" His hand fell upon his sword and he drew it half way. "What guest hath so dishonoured name as to make profit of that I have already made known as my espoused? Tell me, Kate!" Seeing her frightened eyes, that were justly so, he pushed back the jewelled hilt and threw his arm about her and drew her close, so close she was well-nigh crushed by his warm and pa.s.sionate embrace and choked by pulverulent civet as her face was pressed against the folds of his steenkirk. She felt the tumultuous beating of his heart, and 'twas a great, new feeling came to her and she trembled and swayed, and loved and hated both, in one brief moment and drew from him and looked with angry eyes. "Kate, Kate, what saidst the false lover; tell me every word. Did he ask thee for espousal?"

Now Mistress Penwick faltered and flushed, for she dare not tell him who her suitor was and thought if she told him well what was said, he would not press her for name, and 'twas meet she should tell him truthfully. She feared his hot temper not a little, for she had heard that one time he locked Lady Constance in the tower for two whole days for telling him a falsehood.

"Aye, he asked me to espouse him."

"And what didst thou say?"

"I said him nay, 'twas too soon to wed, 'twould be wiser to speak a year hence."

"And what answer did he make thee?"

"He said the king's sister, Princess Mary, when but ten married William, Prince of Orange, and--"

"And what?" said Cedric, leaning forward his hand upon his sword, a curse between his white teeth and a line of light from between his half-closed lids like the flashing of a two-edged sword.

"What--'sdeath?" And Kate trembled forth--

"And fifteen was none too soon to wed."

"And did he say naught else appertaining thereto?"

"Nay, I know naught else he could say!" and the innocence of her inquiring face proved his evil imagining a perjury. He caught his breath in a flutter of sheer heart's-ease.

"Now who is this swain who hath taken advantage of my invitation and come up from among the rustics yonder to make love to thee? I will run him through the first time I meet his insolence. Who is he, Kate; what's his name?" She vouchsafing no answer, aroused his suspicion.

"'Sdeath! what ails thy tongue? Haste thee, what is his name?" and he glared at her, furiously, 'til she was well nigh cold with fright.

"Sooth, thou art strong with temper for the very meagre cause a maiden will not bewray a poor man's name."

"Poor, indeed, when such as thou bestoweth upon him the priceless gift of thy heart as a locker for his secrets; by G.o.d! give his name, quick, ere I slay a dozen for one paltry fool that would rob me!"

She read aright the steely light 'neath his half-closed lids and was distraught, for she dared not give him the name of one of his guests; for the n.o.ble Russian Adrian Cantemir had pressed his suit and was upheld by Lady Constance, who told him of Katherine's vast demesne, knowing well he could not marry one without estates, as his were in great depletion. And the n.o.ble Cantemir had well nigh won her heart by his voice and music, and now that he was in danger of Lord Cedric's anger, he became an object of commiseration, and not for her life would she give his name to this raging man with murder in his heart.

"Nay, nay, my lord; give me grace. I have told thee truly all else, and now I beg--"

"Dost thou say thou wilt not give his name? Then, by G.o.d, I will cut my way to his black heart!" He drew his sword and strode forth to slash the curtain that barred his way, and Katherine caught his upstretched arm and fell upon her knees, bursting into tears. At sight of tears and touch of fingers he dropped his sword and raised her quickly, saying:

"Nay, nay, not tears. Dry them, Sweet, they wring my heart to greater pain than all thy secrets, and for this one thou boldest I will take thy shoulder-knot instead." She looked up surprised at the sudden surcease of storm, and seeing his handsome face becalmed, she wondered at the magic that had caused it, and her heart smote her for withholding aught from one that loved her so. She hastily drew from her shoulder the knot of violets that were still humid with freshness; and as she drew the fastenings the lace fell from her shoulder, disclosing her too-low cut bodice, and Cedric's quick eye saw why the screen of lace was used, and with trembling fingers caught up the lace and drew from his steenkirk a rare jewel and pinned it safe as deftly as her maid. He touched her hand with his warm red lips, saying in a voice resonant as music: "G.o.d bless thee, Kate, for thy sweet modesty!" He thought if the modish beauties in yonder rooms could boast of such perfect charm, 'twould not be hid by a fall of lace and a shoulder knot of violets. And he pressed the nosegay to his heart and left them there, folded within her father's letter. A calmness settled upon him, such as had not come to him heretofore, and trembling with happiness he led Katherine forth in the brantle; she feeling quite like an heroine for being able to hold her secret from this pa.s.sionate man.

For all the convent had environed Mistress Pen wick with sacred influences, and she had absorbed its most potent authority, religion, yet even that was not efficacious to the annihilating that 'twas born within; and one can but excuse the caprice and wantonness of a coquette, when 'tis an inheritance. She adhered pertinaciously to the requirements of a lady of t.i.tle, and loved opulence and luxury and admiration. She foresaw--young as she was and reared as she had been with all simpleness--an opportunity, being a n.o.blewoman and the ward of a wealthy t.i.tled gentleman, to become a favourite at Court. This idea, however, was not altogether original; for Lady Constance had given her a graphic description of her presentation, and the requirements due to all ladies of note. And while Katherine fully intended to carry out her father's wishes for an early and n.o.ble marriage; yet she felt there was no haste; she was sure it would be his desire for her to enjoy one of those seasons at Court she had heard so much converse of. 'Tis not much wonder, having been so short a time in the great world and having won the hearts of two n.o.blemen, she should wish for fresh fields to conquer. But now was not the time for a trip to London, for spring was upon them and there was much to look after in Crandlemar. His Lordship had sadly neglected his duties in keeping up the village and looking after the poor. The church must be built up. It had not occurred to her that there were other religions beside the Catholic; and when Lord Cedric's chaplain made known to her the difficulties of arranging Catholic orders in a Protestant Church, she could not understand. Janet explained to her what she would be compelled to surmount to bring her religion to be the accepted one in Crandlemar. Again her mind was turned to Count Adrian, and she thought 'twould be well to wed with one of her own faith, and he was as warm a Catholic as herself. Cedric was a Protestant and a very poor one, indeed it seemed he had no religion.

And yet he had told her that he pet.i.tioned not to G.o.d for aught; but 'twas his diurnal duty to thank Him for His benevolence and chastening; ever deeming chastis.e.m.e.nt the surety of his alien thought or action, and he speedily mended his ways or made an effort to; but what great sin he had committed that her love should not be given him was more than he could tell, and he should keep on trying to find out what his faults were, that he might receive that he wished for most.

He wrangled not of religion, but ever kept the divine spark in his own heart alive, if not fanned to flame. Indeed so indifferent was his Lordship to the great questions of the times, he thought not of the ancient monastery in the depths of the vast forest upon his estate, where still resided recluses. 'Twas seldom he thought of these simple monks. They lived in seeming quiet, enjoying the freehold of their castle. But there was a storm brewing, and in its midst his Lordship was to be severely reminded of their presence.

CHAPTER VIII

THE ANCIENT MONASTERY

Lord Cedric's guests all departed after the Saxon dance, save their Graces of Ellswold, Lady Constance, Lady Bettie Payne and Count Cantemir. And with their exit spring seemed to burst forth in sward, bourgeon and bud, and the clinging tendrils upon the castle walls grew heavy and pink with their greedy absorption of carbon dioxide from the warm atmosphere. It seemed the unfolding of nature brought ten times more pain and uneasiness and mad love to Lord Cedric's heart. He had not yet learned who had been talking to Katherine of love. Janet had mentioned Adrian Cantemir; he had laughed at her. Constance had pointed to Lord Droylsden, a man of distinction and strong personality, whose estates joined his own. This appeared more plausible than the suit of Cantemir, and his Lordship watched Katherine when she was with these two and soon found, so he thought, it was for the latter she cared; indeed 'twas hard for him to follow the trend of her vacillating mind.

'Twas a glorious, warm spring morning. Mistress Penwick had ridden forth, attended by a groom, to the village. She spent the entire morning in visiting the poor and sick and did not fail to note the dilapidated state of the cottages. She rode home flushed and eager with plans. She made known to Lord Cedric her desires to build up these poor cottages. Without question he doubled the amount of money she asked for, and paid her a large sum for immediate use among the poor. Katherine's heart was touched by his goodness to her, and spoke with more warmth than 'twas her wont and opined 'twould be a glorious afternoon for their ride in the forest! He had kept his eyes steadily from her; for 'twas his mood to play the disinterested and unconcerned; but at this innovation on her part he raised his eyes and spoke indifferently:

"Aye, if this weather continues, we will have roses in a fortnight."

"Speaking of roses reminds me; as I started forth this morning I saw a gardener upon the upper terrace tr.i.m.m.i.n.g about some bushes of wonderful grace and beauty, and as I stepped among them I saw an ancient sundial; 'tis the first I've yet seen, and I made bold to ask him to plant some rare rose near it, that its leaves and blossoms might enfold its cold marble whiteness and warm it to greater beauty."

"And didst not thou suggest some choice?"

"Nay; just so 'twas healthy and prolific of bloom."

"Then as thou hast named a rose, I will name its kind!"