"I thought he was deeply enamoured of you. It seems strange."

"He was. But I was not going to have him."

"He has not asked, remember."

"He was on the point of it. He is a very rich man, Tamsyn. He will have a high-sounding t.i.tle one day. He is just the man my mother wanted for me."

"Yet he did not offer."

"Because I did not want him to."

"You told him so?"

"That would not have stopped him, but I had to stop him somehow because if he had I am sure the temptation would have been too much for them to resist. So I worked a spell."

"Oh Senara, do not talk so. I have asked you so many times not to."

"Nevertheless I stopped him. It was a very natural sort of spell. A man in his position at Court could not have a witch for a wife."

"Sometimes I think you are mad, Senara."

"Nay, never that. I am so pleased that my spell worked that I want to tell you about it. Have you ever thought, Tamsyn, how we can make our servants work for us? They can do so much with a little prompting. I have made good use of servants ... always. You are not attending. You are wondering whether Fenn will come soon. I will tell you something. He won't come. He doesn't want you any more than Thomas Gren.o.ble wants me. Let me tell you about Thomas Gren.o.ble. I made the servants talk ... my servants to his servants. It was so easy. I made them tell him of my strangeness, my spells, the manner in which I was born. I wanted him to think that the servants were afraid of me, that I never went to church because I feared to. That strange things happened, that I could whip up a storm at sea, that I could make a man see me as the most beautiful creature he had ever seen ... and he believed them. So that is why he went so suddenly to London. He is putting as great a distance between us as he can."

"You did not do this, Senara."

"I did. I did. I knew they would force me to marry him if he made an offer. And he was on the point of it. He was besottedly in love with me. But his fear of being involved with witchcraft was greater than his love. People are becoming more and more afraid of it, Tamsyn. It's a growing cult. And the more people fear it, the more they discover it. I am free of Thomas Gren.o.ble."

I did not entirely believe her. I thought she was piqued because he had gone away.

I accused her of this and she laughed at me.

"His love could not have been very strong," I said, "if he could so quickly forget it."

"You should comfort me, Tamsyn. Have we not both lost a lover?"

As I walked away I heard her shrill laughter. And I thought: She is right. I have been foolish to hope for Fenn. I misunderstood his friendship. But if he is a friend why does he stay away?

A little later I saw Senara riding away from the castle.

I thought: She is going to Leyden Hall. She is going to see d.i.c.kon.

I remembered then how she had adored him when she was younger and how they had danced and sung together.

Could it really be that she loved d.i.c.kon?

Was it really true that she had rid herself of Thomas Gren.o.ble in this way?

One could never be sure with Senara. If she loved d.i.c.kon she was heading for sorrow, for she would never be allowed to marry him.

And for myself, I knew I could never love anyone but Fenn Landor.

Senara and I, I thought, we shall have to comfort each other.

March came in like a lion, as they say. The winds were violent and the salt spray dashed itself against the castle walls. The waves were so high that it was dangerous to walk on the sea side of the castle. One could easily have been caught and washed away.

One evening, when a storm was rising, I had an uneasy conviction that the lantern was not alight. There were occasions when it went out but in such weather special attention was supposed to be given to it.

I climbed to the tower carrying a taper with me and sure enough that rea.s.suring glow was not there and the turret rooms were in darkness.

I thought of going to the Seaward Tower to tell them that someone had forgotten to light the lanterns in Nonna's. Then I thought it was quite a simple matter to light them myself. I could comfortably reach them with the step-ladder. I lighted them and in a few minutes they were throwing their rea.s.suring beam of light out across the sea.

I went down to my bedchamber. Senara was there lying on her pallet with dreams in her eyes.

I was about to mention the lanterns when she said: "They will be going away soon."

"Who?" I asked.

"The puritans. They want to worship in freedom and they say the only place where they can do so is in Holland."

"Will d.i.c.kon go with them?"

"Yes," she said.

"You will miss him."

She did not answer. I had rarely seen her so subdued.

Then she started to talk about the puritans. They were brave people; they hated finery and gaiety and everything that seemed to make life interesting to her. Yet she could not but admire them. They were people who would die for their beliefs. "Imagine that, Tamsyn. It's n.o.ble in its way." She laughed suddenly. "d.i.c.kon is greatly tempted. I can see that. He wants to be a puritan and his whole being cries out against it. As mine would. It is a continual battle for him. Battles are exciting. You want everything to be peaceful. You always did. It's not that you lack spirit, but you're not an adventurer, Tamsyn. You're the mother figure, there to love and protect. I'm not like that. I'm the mistress ... to tempt, to snare and to be unpredictable."

"You are certainly that," I retorted. "Why do you visit these puritans? I know why. It is because it is dangerous. There are going to be harsher rules against them. They are going to be persecuted. Perhaps people will always want to fight again and kill those who disagree with them. The Catholics on the one hand; the puritans on the other; and they are both supposed to be enemies to the Church!"

"The King hates them. Puritans, witches and Catholics who attempt to blow up his parliament! The King is a strange man. They say he is very clever and that he is renowned for his wit. He loves pleasure as much as the puritans hate it. Thomas Gren.o.ble told me that he spends much time at the c.o.c.k-fight and pays his master of c.o.c.ks two hundred pounds a year, which is equal to the salary of his secretaries of state. He is a coward too! His garments are padded to preserve him against the a.s.sa.s.sin's knife. He is terrified of being a.s.sa.s.sinated. They talk of these matters at Leyden Hall and they plan to escape from them. It is not that they are running away exactly ... They are brave men and women, for they will face fearful hazards. They care nothing for this. They make wonderful plans. They do not intend to stay in Holland."

Her eyes were brilliant. I could see that she was following them in her thoughts; she was facing the hazards, and I knew that all the time she was seeing herself side by side with d.i.c.kon.

"It is some years since Sir Walter Raleigh found a fair land which he called after Queen Elizabeth-Virginia. It lies a long way across the ocean. They talk of Virginia."

"It was a colony," I said, "and is now abandoned."

"It is a rich land of fruits and plants and trees. Perhaps it will be there that they will settle. They will build a new country where men shall be free to follow their religion."

"Providing," I added, "it does not conflict with that laid down by the puritans."

Senara looked at me seriously for a few minutes and then she burst out laughing.

"Oh, it is not for the religion, Tamsyn. It's not whether we shall genuflect twenty times a day or make our knees sore by kneeling on a stone floor. What do I care for that! It's the adventure. It's glorious. To set out like that ... not knowing whether you were going to die on the way. The dangers one would face. That's what I care about."

That, I thought, and d.i.c.kon. I was very uneasy wondering what would become of her when d.i.c.kon went away.

The next day the violent storm of the previous night had abated. Two things happened. There was a whipping in the Seaward courtyard.

Merry told us about it, her face distorted with misery. She would, I knew, be remembering the occasion when her own Jan Leward had been so degraded.

He had offended the master, this last victim. It was a terrible occasion. The men of Seaward had been commanded to a.s.semble in the courtyard to watch. The women would not look. They set about preparing ointments and bandages to deal with the sufferer when he was untied from the post and dragged unconscious into the Tower.

The whippings took place rarely, which no doubt made them more to be feared than if they were a commonplace occurrence. The last one had been Jan Leward. I knew that Merry had never got over it and because of this misdemeanour my father had refused them permission to marry for another year. He had told Jan, so Merry had reported to Senara, that he did not want two disobedient servants and until Jan had proved his loyalty he could not marry.

I had watched Merry's face sometimes when my father's name was mentioned and I saw the bitter hatred there.

All that day there was a hush over the castle and everyone was talking about the whipping. A few days later there was good news. We had a visitor. He wanted to see my father and thank him personally. On the night of the storm he had all but been wrecked on the Devil's Teeth. He had in time seen the warning lights; but for that his ship battered by the devastating weather would undoubtedly have foundered. It was like an act of G.o.d. He had been making straight for the rocks and then he saw the warning light in time. He had reason to be grateful to the Casvellyns.

The cargo he carried was one of the richest he had ever handled. Gold, ivory and spices from Africa.

He sat drinking with my father all through the day and he announced that he was sending several barrels of finest Malmsey for the enjoyment of my father's servants.

When I thought about it I realized that I had been the one to light the lanterns. I couldn't resist telling Senara about it. Merry came in while we were talking.

"It's a wonderful feeling," I said, "to have saved that ship. Someone forgot to light the lanterns that night. I thank G.o.d that some instinct sent me up there at the right moment."

Senara and Merry were looking at me intently.

Merry said: "So it was you."

"Why," cried Senara, "the Malmsey should be yours." She added: "If you mention it there would be trouble."

I thought I knew what she meant. Of course there would be trouble. The fact that I had found the lanterns unlit meant that someone had failed in his duty. A slip like that could have cost many lives.

We wanted no more whippings in the courtyard.

A week or so later there was news from Lyon Court. My grandmother was ailing and it seemed long to her since she had seen me.

My father said I might go to see her and for once Senara did not insist on accompanying me. I believed this was due to the fact that if she did she would not be able to pay her now regular visits to Leyden House and so miss seeing d.i.c.kon.

I found my grandmother frail but she seemed to revive a great deal when she saw me.

Spring often comes early to Devon and we were able to sit in the gardens. I was happy to be with her but sad to remember how my mother had loved to feed the peac.o.c.ks and how they used to come to her with a sort of disdainful air to take the peas she offered them.

My grandmother wanted to hear about life at the castle and I happily told her of how I had found the lanterns unlit in the tower and my action had saved the ship. She thought that was a wonderful story and made me repeat it many times. She asked about my father and my stepmother and whether they seemed happy together.

I supposed they were. My father was not the kind to suffer in silence and my stepmother was difficult to know but she was as she had always been.

And Senara?

"Senara is interested in a puritan family who have come to live nearby."

"Senara and puritans! That's incongruous."

"Senara is so strange. Sometimes I feel I don't know her."

"Yet you are fond of each other."

"Yes, as sisters."

"You are closer to her than you are to Connell."

"I suppose it is because Connell is a boy. He and I have never had anything in common."

"And Melanie?"

"I am growing fond of her. She is so kind and gentle always. I hope Connell will be good to her."

"Is he not?"

"They are rarely together. Connell hunts and is with my father a great deal."

"And is there any sign of a child?"

"I have not heard."

"I expect Melanie is hoping. And what of Fenn Landor?"

I was silent.

"Has he not been to the castle?"

I looked beyond my grandmother to the tall hedge which shut in her pond garden.

"No," I said, "he has not been to the castle."

She was frowning. "There must be a reason."

"Oh, I think there was some speculation. He did not like it perhaps."

"Speculation?"

"Yes," I said boldly, "about me. It seemed to be in everyone's mind that we should marry ... everyone's except Fenn's."

"Something must have happened," said my grandmother. "I'll swear he was in love with you."

I shook my head.

"Let us not speak of it, Grandmother," I said. "I would rather not."

"No good comes of brushing something aside because it is hurtful to look at."

"What is this?" I cried. "It has happened so many times. Two people become friendly and those around them think they must be going to marry."

"Did you think it, Tamsyn?"