courage in the face of dangerous men and, heaven knew, a stern face to a woman who offended against his honour. ‘And would have looked at him again and not looked only, if a servant girl hadn’t been keen-witted enough to prevent you.’ And he swore a filthy oath. ‘By g— and by God, he works fast, my little brother of Llandovery! And you too, bitch and whore that you are, with your tricksy wiles that I’ve fallen for often enough myself, poor doting fool that I was — to be half cuckolded upon the very day of my wedding and with my own brother… And now am to pay out half my fortune to get you out of the hands of these ruffians.’
‘Pay no ransom. I like it here,’ she said, jauntily, looking round the little room.
‘Like it here! Like it here! You’ll like it, I warrant you, when he gets his foxy pads upon you! — you with your flame of hair to draw any man’s eyes to you, you’ll like it when The Fox wants his prey and you’re dragged willy nilly, like a white goose fluttering, to his den…’
‘Poof, the man is too ill to stand upon his feet,’ she said disdainfully. ‘By the time he’s well enough to put into practice all these dire prognostications, we shall be gone from here.’
‘ If your admirer foots the bill for you,’ he said. ‘He’ll not do it for me and the more so since I’ve apparently stolen the woman he fancies, from under his nose.’ And now he did look round the room. ‘It’s as well you’re so comfortably accommodated, my dear, for you won’t be leaving tomorrow, I fear, nor the next day nor the next. And in your prayers tonight I advise you to include one that’ll keep Master Fox in his present reduced state of health. He’s said to have a particular taste for fair-headed women as I told you; and an ugly way with all of them.’
‘And not the only one,’ said Gilda, looking into his face.
He lifted the rush curtain and went out without another word. A pity, she thought, he should not evince so fine a display of temper upon more practical occasions: with those canaille outside, for example… But at least tonight it seemed likely that she might sleep alone and undisturbed and dream such dreams as she cared to. All the same…
All the same — if in her dreams she could go back to that night, that night at the playhouse when first Brown Eyes had brought her white roses and touched her hand with his — would he not find a very different girl from the girl she then had been? Then she had been sweet and easy, readily controlled and directed by a loving hand: having known no other. Now… If her family could see her now, she thought, turned all in an hour to a wildcat, fighting for her own interests, spitting fire and contempt, and with this welling-up in her of a sort of — courage — she had never known before (having had no need of it) would they recognise their Marigold, their little sister, their pet and pride? And she thought about life and circumstances and of what it might bring about in those who, untouched by experience, might never know it existed. What am I? she thought. Who am I? From this strange experience, this danger, this beginning of hate for the one sole being to whom I should turn in reliance and love — what sort of woman is going to emerge? Of only one thing she was certain: that woman would remain steadfast in her heart and mind, if not in the rebellious flesh, to her only one true love.
With the morning came anxieties again, the more so as her husband deserted her — closeted in argument with the Fox, said Catti; and sent no word to her. She wandered out at last, a rabble of women and children following her, gaping at her fine clothes, exclaiming at the fair skin and shining hair. Down by the stream, girls crouched washing their linen, beating with flat wooden spatulas at the home-spun woollens; small boys were scrubbing down the strong little mountain ponies, caught and trained for the work of the hide-out here among the rocks (where
‘Pay no ransom. I like it here,’ she said, jauntily, looking round the little room.
‘Like it here! Like it here! You’ll like it, I warrant you, when he gets his foxy pads upon you! — you with your flame of hair to draw any man’s eyes to you, you’ll like it when The Fox wants his prey and you’re dragged willy nilly, like a white goose fluttering, to his den…’
‘Poof, the man is too ill to stand upon his feet,’ she said disdainfully. ‘By the time he’s well enough to put into practice all these dire prognostications, we shall be gone from here.’
‘ If your admirer foots the bill for you,’ he said. ‘He’ll not do it for me and the more so since I’ve apparently stolen the woman he fancies, from under his nose.’ And now he did look round the room. ‘It’s as well you’re so comfortably accommodated, my dear, for you won’t be leaving tomorrow, I fear, nor the next day nor the next. And in your prayers tonight I advise you to include one that’ll keep Master Fox in his present reduced state of health. He’s said to have a particular taste for fair-headed women as I told you; and an ugly way with all of them.’
‘And not the only one,’ said Gilda, looking into his face.
He lifted the rush curtain and went out without another word. A pity, she thought, he should not evince so fine a display of temper upon more practical occasions: with those canaille outside, for example… But at least tonight it seemed likely that she might sleep alone and undisturbed and dream such dreams as she cared to. All the same…
All the same — if in her dreams she could go back to that night, that night at the playhouse when first Brown Eyes had brought her white roses and touched her hand with his — would he not find a very different girl from the girl she then had been? Then she had been sweet and easy, readily controlled and directed by a loving hand: having known no other. Now… If her family could see her now, she thought, turned all in an hour to a wildcat, fighting for her own interests, spitting fire and contempt, and with this welling-up in her of a sort of — courage — she had never known before (having had no need of it) would they recognise their Marigold, their little sister, their pet and pride? And she thought about life and circumstances and of what it might bring about in those who, untouched by experience, might never know it existed. What am I? she thought. Who am I? From this strange experience, this danger, this beginning of hate for the one sole being to whom I should turn in reliance and love — what sort of woman is going to emerge? Of only one thing she was certain: that woman would remain steadfast in her heart and mind, if not in the rebellious flesh, to her only one true love.
With the morning came anxieties again, the more so as her husband deserted her — closeted in argument with the Fox, said Catti; and sent no word to her. She wandered out at last, a rabble of women and children following her, gaping at her fine clothes, exclaiming at the fair skin and shining hair. Down by the stream, girls crouched washing their linen, beating with flat wooden spatulas at the home-spun woollens; small boys were scrubbing down the strong little mountain ponies, caught and trained for the work of the hide-out here among the rocks (where
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