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Philippa Carr: Lion Triumphant

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Philippa Carr Lion Triumphant

Lion Triumphant: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Played out against the seething rivalry between Inquisition-torn Spain and Elizabethan England, The Lion Triumphant traces the linked fates of strong-willed Catherine Farland and Captain Jake Pennlyon. Called “The Lion,” Captain Jake Pennlyon is a fearsome and virile plunderer who takes what he wants, and his sights are set on Catherine Farland. Blackmailed into wedlock and haunted by memories of the gentle boy she was forbidden to wed, Cat vows to escape. Fate intervenes when she’s taken prisoner aboard a Spanish galleon... unaware that she’s a pawn in one man’s long-awaited revenge. Beginning as Elizabeth takes the throne of England, and spanning the years until the legendary defeat of the Spanish Armada, The Lion Triumphant follows Cat’s journey from the thrill of a first passion to the ferocity of a mother’s love. Despite the twists of history, her fortunes—and her heart—will remain tied to one seductive buccaneer.

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Honey blushed becomingly and said: “Sir Penn, you must meet my sister.”

I curtsied. The blue eyes were on me. “Another little beauty, eh?” he said. “Another little beauty. Two of the prettiest ladies in Devon.”

“It’s kind of you to call me such, sir,” I said. “But I’ll not ask you to swallow your ship if you should be proved wrong.”

He laughed, great bellowing laughter. He slapped his hands on his thighs. He was more than a little crude, I guessed.

And behind him was his son, who was now greeting Honey before it was my turn to stand face to face with him.

The recognition was instant. He took my hand and kissed it. “We’re old friends,” he said.

I thought contemptuously: In thirty years’ time he will be exactly like his father.

Honey was looking surprised.

“I saw Captain Pennlyon when I was on the Hoe,” I said coldly without looking at him.

“My sister is fascinated by ships,” said Honey.

“Well!” Sir Penn was regarding me with approval. “She knows a good thing when she sees it. Young lady, there’s only one thing I know more beautiful than a ship and that’s a pretty woman.” He nudged his son. “Jake here agrees with me.”

“We want to hear about your voyage,” said Honey politely. “Let us go into the punch room. Supper will be served shortly.”

She led the way up the three stone stairs past the dining room to the punch room and there we sat while Edward’s servants brought malmsey for us to drink. Honey was very proud of fine Venetian glasses, which were very fashionable and which she had brought with her. I imagined the Pennlyons had never seen anything so fine.

We sat rather stiffly on our chairs, the tapestry back and seats of which had been worked by Edward’s great-aunt. I thought the chair might break under Sir Penn, for he sat with little thought for its fragility and Honey threw a glance at me as though to say, We have to get used to country manners.

Sir Penn said what a fine thing it was to have neighbors of the quality to bring their fine Venetian glass for them to drink out of. His eyes twinkled as he spoke as though he were laughing at us and in a way despised us—except Honey of course and perhaps me. Both of them—father and son—had an insolence in their looks which suggested that they were assessing our personal attributes in a manner which was slightly disturbing.

“And how long are you staying here?” he wanted to know of Edward.

Edward replied evasively that so much depended on circumstances. His father had wished him to come and look after the estates here for a while. It would depend on what happened on the Surrey estate.

“Ah,” said Sir Penn, “you noble families have your seats in every part of the kingdom. Why, young sir, there must be times when you wonder whether you’re a Surrey or a Devon man or maybe there is some other county to claim you.”

“My father has estates in the North,” said Edward.

“Marry! Why, you’ve a foot in every part of the Queen’s realm, young man.”

“By no means,” said Edward. “And might I not say that your ships sail on every known part of the ocean?”

“You can say it, sir, you can say it. And Jake will tell you that it’s so. Just back he is from a long voyage, but he’s too taken with the company to give voice.”

Jake said: “The company delights me as you see.” And he was looking straight at me, mocking because here he was and I had said it was not likely that he would be invited. “But I’ll confirm it’s true that I have but recently returned from a voyage.”

“My sister was excited when she saw your ship come in. She sees the ships come in from her window, and never seems to tire of it.”

Jake had brought his chair closer to mine. They had not the manner which we had come to expect. These people were lacking the niceties of behavior; they were more frank than we were, coarser too.

“So you liked my ship,” he said.

“I like all ships.”

“That’s the right spirit,” he said. “And you’ve never had the chance of seeing them before.”

“We were close to the river. I often saw boats sailing by.”

He laughed derisively. “Wherries and tugs,” he said.

“And royal barges. I have seen the Queen on her way to her Coronation.”

“And now you’ve seen the queen of ships.”

“Yours?” I asked.

“The Rampant Lion, none other.”

“So she is the queen, is she?”

“I’ll take you out to her. I’ll show you. You’ll see for yourself then.” He leaned toward me. I drew away and looked at him coldly, which seemed to amuse him. “When will you come?” he asked.

“I doubt I ever should.”

He raised eyebrows rather darker than his hair, which made the blue eyes more startling.

“You never thought to see me here, yet here I am. And now you tell me you never will come aboard my ship. I’ll warrant you’ll be my guest there within a week. Come, I’ll wager you.”

“I do not wager.”

“But you’ll come all the same.” He was bending toward me so that his face was close to my own. I attempted to look at him with indifference, but I was not very convincing. He at least was aware of the effect he had had on me. I drew back and his eyes mocked. “Yes,” he went on, “on my ship. Less than a week today. It’s a wager.”

“I have already told you I do not wager.”

“We’ll discuss terms later.”

I thought I should not care to be alone with such a man on his ship.

We were interrupted by the arrival of another guest, Mistress Crocombe, a simpering middle-aged woman, and when she had joined us in a glass of malmsey one of the servants announced that supper was ready and we went down the stairs to the dining room.

It was a beautiful room, one of the loveliest in the Grange I thought it. Through the leaded windows we could see the courtyard; the walls were hung with tapestries depicting the Wars of the Roses; the table was tastefully laid with more of the Venetian glass and gleaming silver dishes. Honey had made a centerpiece of various herbs which she grew in her herb garden and the effect was gracious.

Edward sat at the head of the table and Honey at the foot. On Honey’s right was Sir Penn and on her left Jake; on Edward’s right I sat and Miss Crocombe on his left, which meant that I was seated next to Jake and Miss Crocombe next to his father.

Could it be that this Captain Pennlyon is being brought forward as another possible suitor for me? I wondered. The thought angered me. Did they think they were going to make me forget Carey by producing a succession of men who could only remind me of Carey because of the differences between them?

Honey had certainly some very fine cooks. The food was excellently served; there was beef and lamb as well as sucking pig, a boar’s head and an enormous pie; and she had taken the trouble to introduce that pleasant custom of honoring the guests which we followed at home. One of the pies was in the form of a ship and on it had been placed by thin layers of paste the words “The Rampant Lion.” The delight of the Pennlyons when they saw this was almost childish; they laughed and ate great chunks of it. I had never seen such appetites as those two men had. The food was washed down often noisily with muscadel and malmsey, those wines which came from Italy and the Levant and were growing so fashionable.

They talked too, dominating the conversation. Miss Crocombe clearly adored Sir Penn, which was strange considering she was a somewhat prim spinster in her late thirties and certainly not the kind to attract such a man as Sir Penn whose appetites in all things I could imagine would be voracious. He was regarding Honey in a manner which I thought quite lascivious and occasionally he would throw a glance at me, amused, half-regretful, and the implication I put on that was that he was leaving me to the attention of his son. I thought his manners unpardonable. It seemed of no importance to him that Honey was the wife of his host.

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