“So, what do you propose I do?” Jeremy asked.
“Improvise, as I have.”
Jeremy looked at his brother, suddenly sure he was about to reveal a great secret.
“Do you remember Sybil?” Walter asked, his tone confidential.
“Of course. You were mad for her. You were heartbroken when she married,” Jeremy said, confused by the small smile playing about his brother’s lips.
“Father would never permit me to marry Sybil. She wasn’t fit to be the next Viscountess of Lockwood, and as much as I resented his edict, I knew he was right, so I found an alternative. I agreed to father’s choice of bride and maintained a relationship with Sybil all this time.”
“What of Sybil’s children?” Jeremy asked, shocked to realize that his brother had been devoted to his childhood sweetheart these past fifteen years.
“They might be mine. I will see them settled in the world, regardless. James wishes to become a merchant, and Lilith will make a good marriage and bring her husband a respectable dowry. And if there are any other children, I’ll look after them too.”
“Does Sybil’s husband know?” Jeremy asked, still trying to process this new information.
“He suspects, but he’s a wise man and doesn’t ask any awkward questions.”
“And Mary?”
“I never told her outright, but I expect she does and sees the advantage of the arrangement. I treat her with kindness and respect, and her son will be the next Viscount Lockwood. Likewise, I don’t trouble her with excessive carnal demands, nor do I taunt her with my feelings for my mistress. Everyone wins, Jem.”
“Are you suggesting I take a mistress?”
“I most certainly am. You’ve never been one for whores. Find yourself a woman you can love.”
“I think I already have.”
“All the better. Does she like you more than your wife does?” Walter joked.
“I’m not sure,” Jeremy replied, avoiding Walter’s inquisitive gaze.
“Well, once you are sure, find a vacant cottage on the estate, set her up, and visit her whenever you wish.”
“Marjorie is nothing like Mary, Walter. She won’t turn a blind eye. She burns with religious fervor and will see every sin cruelly punished, even if it’s not hers.”
“Then you might need to beat some sense into her,” Walter said matter-of-factly.
“Pardon?”
“Some horses can be gentled; others need to be broken. Mary is wise enough to know her place. Marjorie, on the other hand, will not surrender control as easily. She sees herself as the rightful mistress of this place and resents your presence.”
“Are you proposing I beat my pregnant wife?” Jeremy asked, horrified.
“I’m proposing you find a way to remind her that you are master here.”
“I’ve no wish to be cruel,” Jeremy replied.
“Who said anything about being cruel?” Walter asked, all innocence. “Visit her bedchamber every night until she’s so weary of your attentions, she’ll thank some wench to take you off her hands. I suspect it won’t take long. Less than a week.” Walter laughed uproariously. “You really are a saint, Jemmy. I would have broken your Marjorie within a sennight of the wedding.”
“Yes, I believe you would have,” Jeremy replied. “Ride her hard at night, beat her in the morning?”
“Precisely. She’d be as good as gold after a few days.”
Jeremy nodded. He didn’t agree with Walter’s methods, but his brother was right. Marjorie was not the sort of woman who responded to kindness. She saw it as weakness. She would respect a husband who beat her and availed himself of her body without her consent. She’d see his cruelty as strength. Walter meant well, Jeremy knew that, but he couldn’t take his advice, not because of any regard he held for Marjorie but because he had no wish to compromise his own soul. He wasn’t a violent man and had no intention of becoming one just to subdue a rebellious wife.
“Have you heard from John?” Jeremy asked, ready to change the subject.
Walter sighed. “I had a letter from him not a fortnight ago. He’s still in Scotland.”
“But I thought a treaty with the Scots was signed in June,” Jeremy said.
“It was, but as soon as the Treaty of Berwick was signed, His Majesty began to plan a second offensive. He means to break the treaty. His pigheaded determination to subdue the Scots will ruin this country,” Walter said angrily. “I, for one, don’t give a toss which prayer book they use in their services, but it’s not really about that, is it? What Charles wants is absolute rule, and he won’t stop until he attains it.”
“What of Parliament?” Jeremy asked. “Has he called it back?”
“No, and so the stalemate continues. There’s much unrest, Jeremy. I fear the situation will not be resolved peacefully.”
“Are you suggesting there might be an armed rebellion against the king?” Jeremy asked.
“There are those who would like to see that happen.”
“And you?”
“His Majesty needs to make concessions and learn to rule alongside Parliament, but he’s a stubborn and autocratic man who refuses any form of compromise. I’m not in favor of an armed rebellion, but I fear there are many who don’t feel the same and would like to see his authority curbed, by force if need be, especially if he tries to bring Irish mercenaries to England to fight the Scots. Catholic troops on English soil fighting against a Covenanter army will not be tolerated by faithful Protestants or Puritans, who seem to be growing in number almost daily. You are too far removed here to understand the delicacy of the situation,” Walter said.
Jeremy nodded. Walter was right. Unlike his brothers, Jeremy had never involved himself in politics and couldn’t fully grasp the ramifications of the current situation. This was a farming community, the closest strongholds
