“Someone else was in the house, surely?”
“Two of the maids … silly little things.”
“Where were they?”
“They said they’d left her sleeping. It was hot … and she was taking her siesta. The next thing she was found at the bottom of the staircase.”
“Who found her?”
“The two maids. They went to her room and she weren’t there. Then they came down the stairs and there she was lying there. They said there was something strange about the way she lay there. And then they went and looked and they ran screaming to Edmundo. He saw what was wrong and left her just as she’d fallen. ‘She’s gone,’ he said. ‘Poor mad soul. She’s gone.’”
I had closed the shutters and was lying on my bed. I wanted to lie in the darkness, but even so that brilliant sun penetrated between the shutters and there was some light in the room.
The door opened slowly and Felipe was standing by the bed, looking down at me.
I said: “You should not be here.”
“I had to see you.”
“There are other places.”
“To see you alone,” he said. “Now she is dead…”
“So recently dead, so strangely dead,” I interrupted.
“She fell and killed herself. It is a wonder she did not fall before.”
“She fell when she was more or less alone in the house. Everyone but the two maids and Edmundo had gone to the auto-da-fé. Pilar had gone.”
“It was their duty to go. It was rarely that she was left almost alone in the house.”
“It needed only once.”
“She is dead. You know what that means. I am free.”
“It is not wise to say such things. The servants listen.”
He smiled faintly. “Once I so cautioned you.”
“It is of more importance now than then.”
“You are right. We will wait, but the waiting will be easy because in the end I shall have my heart’s desire.”
“You remember my Queen and her lover. He had a wife, Amy Robsart. She died. She fell down a staircase. Why, how like this! It could almost seem that one who had been impressed by that incident had decided to repeat it.”
“Lord Robert Dudley murdered his wife with your Queen’s connivance.”
“Did he? I think you are right. Some say it was suicide. Some an accident.”
“But many knew the truth.”
“The Queen dared not marry him.”
“It was because she would not stomach a rival on the throne.”
“That … and because to have married him would have been to connive at murder … and maybe run the risk of being suspect.”
“That may be.”
“Don Felipe,” I said, “you are in like case. Amy Robsart’s servants went to a Fair; yours went to an auto-da-fé. Then when the house is almost empty your wife dies.”
“Many times she has been saved from inflicting harm on herself.”
“And this time there was no one to save her. There will be people to talk. If you married now, Don Felipe, there might be some to say you had rid yourself of a wife to do so.”
“I am the master here … Governor of these islands.”
“My Queen was the mistress of England. She was wise.”
He looked momentarily forlorn; then he lifted his head and I saw the stern pride of him, the determination to succeed. It was this which had made him undertake the intricate operation of bringing me to Tenerife. He was now equally determined to marry me, to proclaim Roberto his legitimate heir. He would stop at nothing.
And I asked myself: Felipe, what part did you play in this? You were not here when Isabella died. But you did not come to England to bring me here. You are a man who sets himself a goal and employs others to carry it out. Have a care, Don Felipe.
He held out a hand to me, but I did not take it.
“Go now,” I said. “Take care. Let no one see in what direction your ambitions lie.”
He left me then and I lay on in my darkened room.
Isabella was buried with accompanying pomp.
It was said that she had been possessed by devils as she had attempted to descend the stairs and as she had been seen to do so many times fell and so met her death.
Death set a shadow over the household. Only in the nursery did it fail to penetrate and Honey and I spent a great deal of our time there. The weeks began to pass; we fell back into our routine.
Often I would think about Isabella and wonder what had really happened. Had she suddenly missed Pilar? Had she gone to look for her? I thought of her often, standing at the top of that staircase and then suddenly falling to the bottom. I pictured her lying there. Poor little Isabella.
How often had he said: “If it were not for Isabella”? But he had been away.
Lord Robert Dudley had been away from Cumnor Place at the time of his wife’s death; but that did not exonerate him from murder.
Men such as Sir Robert and Don Felipe did not do evil deeds themselves. They employed others to do them for them.
Edmundo was at the Casa Azul; he was the strong man; he had picked up Isabella and carried her as though she were a rag doll. He was Felipe’s servant. Would he do anything his master asked … anything?
So ran my tormented thoughts.
Six months had passed and Felipe said to me: “It is time we married.”
“It is too soon,” I said.
“I cannot wait forever.”
“Six months ago you had a wife.”
“I have no wife now … nor did I ever have a wife.”
“I know it to be unwise.”
“I will protect you. Shortly we shall go to Spain. I must take you with me.”
“We should wait awhile.”
“I will wait no longer.”
“I am undecided. I think often of my home. My mother will never forget me. She mourns me now.”
“Tell me you will marry me and I will have a message sent to your mother. It is folly. It is dangerous. But this I will do to show you how much I care for you.”
I looked at him and I felt a great tenderness surge over me. He held out his arms and I went toward him. I was held firmly against him. I could no longer resist love such as he was offering.
Had I not learned most bitterly that one does not hold out for the perfection of one’s dreams? Honey knew it. She had taken Edward and enjoyed some happiness and now with Luis. And this man had proved to me that he regarded me with a tender devotion which amazed even himself. I could not reject that.
He said: “My love, you shall write a letter to your mother. You will tell her that you are well and happy. John Gregory shall take it. We will arrange it. The next ship that leaves shall carry him. There is one stipulation: You must mention no names; you must not mention where you are. I must run no risks. But, my Catalina, this shall be done. You will see how I love you!”
And so I promised to marry Don Felipe.
We were married quietly in the little private chapel of the Hacienda. I was not unhappy; sometimes I laughed within myself, for I could not help remembering the occasion of my humiliation when I had no alternative but to submit to him; I remembered how he had ordered that I should wear gowns made for Isabella, use scent which was hers, so that as he lay with me he should imagine I was the beautiful girl bride. There was no one but myself he wished to think of now. But Isabella was a shadow between us. More so for him than for me.
How changed everything was. How he loved me, this strange quiet man! How strange that he, whose emotions were so rarely aroused, should feel this searing passion for one of an enemy race, a race he despised as barbarians; and here was one who was typical of that race—and yet he loved her.
I never forget that he had allowed me to send a letter to my mother. I used to dream of her in the old Abbey garden and I held imaginary conversations with her. I believed I was never far from her thoughts.