Part 15 (1/2)
”Melanie,” I whispered, ”are you there?”
And as I stood there, I felt the hair rise from my scalp for the door was slowly opening.
I stood watching it. Then it was flung back and there stood Colum.
”In G.o.d's name,” he cried, ”what are you doing here?”
For a moment I could not speak. He came to me and taking my by the shoulders shook me.
”What ails you? What is wrong?”
”I thought you were a ghost.”
He caught my hair in his hands and tugged it hard. Colum liked to mingle a little pain with his caresses.
”Who has been talking to you?” he demanded.
”I pick up bits of gossip here and there.”
”I'll have any whipped who have been pouring poison into your ear.”
”You will do no such thing,” I said, ”or I shall tell you nothing.”
”You will tell me what I ask,” he said.
”Not here in this room.”
”Yes,” he said. ”Here in this room, with your ghost smirking in the shadows.”
There was something grand about him. He was not afraid of anything or anyone. One of the Seaward men had told Jennet that the master feared neither G.o.d nor man-and it was true. He would be defiant no matter what he faced. So he could not be expected to fear poor Melanie's ghost-if the idea should occur to him that it existed, which I doubted.
”I know that this was the room in which your first wife died.”
”Well, she had to die somewhere.”
”You never told me that she was a Landor.”
”She had to be someone.”
”But the Landors ... Fennimore Landor's sister!”
”Of course. At one time you had plans to marry that man.”
”How strange that you should have married his sister.”
”Not strange at all. It was a suitable marriage in some ways. The girl was of good family and brought a good dowry with her.”
”And you took the dowry and cared nothing for her.”
”I had no reason to care for her.”
”She was your wife.”
He grasped me firmly and pressing me backwards kissed me firmly on the mouth.
”There is only one wife for me,” he said. ”Praise G.o.d I have her.”
”I wish you had told me that she was a Landor.”
”Why? It meant nothing to me that you once had a fancy for that lily-livered boy.”
”You malign Fennimore. He was not that. He is brave and dedicated to his work. He has ideals.”
”Much good will they do him.”
”There speaks the buccaneer.”
”This is a buccaneer's world.”
”It is changing,” I said. ”Trade will take the place of war and those who persist in making war will suffer and those who live peacefully will prosper.”
”By G.o.d,” he said, ”you repeat your lessons well. I will have no more of Fennimore Landor in this house. You are well rid of him. I do not wish to hear his name mentioned again.”
”Why? Does your conscience fret you?”
”My conscience?”
”Yes, for what you did to the Landors.”
”You are mad, wife. What I did to the Landors was to marry their daughter. She died in childbirth as others have done before her.”
”But she was sick and ill and you persisted that she should give you a son.”
”G.o.d's teeth, girl! Has a man no right to a son?”
”Not if he must kill his wife to get one.”
There was a brief silence; the ghostly shadows had crept farther into the room. For a few seconds-and a few only-Colum was shaken. I knew then that he had ignored Melanie's pleas, that he had forced her as in the beginning he had forced me. His will was law in Castle Paling and if he had to trample over the heart and body of any who stood in his way he would do so.
In those seconds I seemed to have a vision of the future. It was as though Melanie was warning me. He wants you now. You are important to him, but for how long?
Just that and no more. The moment pa.s.sed.
He was laughing. ”I can see someone has been talking too much.”
”Nay,” I said quickly, fearing his wrath for the servants. ”I have worked this out for myself. This was the room where she suffered. This was the room where she died. Do you not feel that she is still here?”
”You have gone mad,” he said. ”She lies in her grave. She is no more here than your pretty Fennimore is.”
”She is dead, Colum, and the dead sometimes return.”