Read Online Daughter of Satan by Jean Plaidy - Free Book Online

were different. I had me hair cut short like a boy’s. Hair like mine was a gift from Satan – so Mistress Alton did say.’
    â€˜A gift from Satan!’ cried Tamar, touching her own abundant curls.
    â€˜And she cut it off . . . like a boy’s. Betsy’s too . . . though Betsy’s weren’t what mine was.’
    â€˜Go on!’ begged Tamar.
    â€˜We went to the church and
he
were there. I saw him. He came out with the noble lord, and women wept to see him and men threw their caps in the air. “God speed to you, Sir Francis!” they did shout. And now he is dead. The bonny beauty of him rotting on the sea bed. I never did think he would die and I be here.’
    â€˜Tell me more,’ said Tamar. ‘Tell me . . . tell me . . . Tell me about those days and Mistress Alton.’
    Tears began to run down Luce’s cheeks.
    â€˜I thought about him too much. ’Tain’t right to have the thoughts I had. ’Tis tempting the Devil. That’s what it was. I didn’t ask much . . . I only asked a little.’
    â€˜That’s silly,’ said Tamar. ‘You must ask for a lot. I shall.’
    Luce turned to her daughter. ‘You must not go out at night. You must stay in. I wouldn’t like what happened to me to happen to you. Be careful. I wouldn’t like you to be caught too young.’
    Tamar’s eyes flashed. ‘I’d have none of that.’
    â€˜You don’t know what you do say, child. ’Tis something that none of us know about until too late.’
    â€˜I should know.’
    â€˜Be careful. It can happen sudden like, and then there’s the rest of your life’ – she looked down at her garments – ‘the rest of your life in tatters and rags. You’m caught, and it can happen sudden-like.’
    â€˜Not to me!’ declared Tamar. ‘There is nobody clever enough to catch me!’
    Once more big ships were in the harbour. Drake was no more; Hawkins had gone; but there were other West Country men waiting to step into the shoes of these men. One of these was Sir Walter Raleigh and people were talking of him now as Drake’s Heir. All through the spring, while Plymouth mourned Drake, the fleet was assembling in the Sound. Lord Howard was there and this was yet another great occasion. But the change in the times was obvious to all. Men were no longer flocking to serve in the ships, and Raleigh brought strangers to Plymouth – men who did not speak with the soft Devon burr – sullen strangers who had been pressed into service.
    The people murmured. It had not been thus in the days of Drake, who had had to refuse men the honour of sailing with him. What a tragic change this was – when men deserting from their ships were hanged on the Hoe as an example to others of like mind.
    It was a day in June. The fleet was ready to sail and Tamar was on the Hoe to watch its departure when close to her she noticed a boy who was so much older than she that he seemed a man. She knew him for Bartle Cavill, the son of Sir Humphrey. He was thirteen years old, tall, with eyes as blue as the sea, and a shock of yellow hair. She noticed how he gazed at the ships with yearning in his eyes; and understanding that feeling – which was hers also – she moved nearer to him.
    She saw that his breeches were puffed and ornamented with mulberry-coloured silk, and she loved its colour and softness. She had to touch the silk to feel if it were as soft as it looked, so she stretched out a hand and felt it. Yes, it was even softer than it looked. There were bars of different colours. Was the green as soft as the mulberry? She had to test it.
    But he had become aware of her hands upon him; swift as lightning he caught her by the arm.
    â€˜Thief!’ he cried. ‘So I’ve caught you, thief!’
    She lifted her great dark eyes to his face, and said shyly: ‘I was only feeling the silk.’
    The blue