The Miracle at St. Bruno's

"And I am ignorant of love... this kind of love. I will do anything you ask of me, but...”

"Love has many facets. It is like the diamond in the Madonna's crown. Do you remember it, Damask? It shone with a pale light and a fiery light-it was red, blue, yellow... all the colors of the spectrum... But it was the same diamond.”

As he spoke his hands moved over my body and I was never more aware of the strange nature of the fascination he had for me. I was conscious of his power over me but I was not sure whether my feelings for him were love as others had experienced it.

It was not what I felt for Rupert or my father. Nor was his love for me like Rupert's. I sensed in Bruno a need to subdue me and in myself an urgent desire to be subdued.

I could believe in that moment that he was different from all other men. Perhaps every girl feels this of her lover. I did not mean merely that he possessed all the perfections. I felt in that moment that there was some godlike quality about him and that no matter what the consequences I must obey him.

My will dissolved I was willing and eager to cast aside everything that I had been taught, to throw aside my respect of that chastity which must be surrendered only to my husband. But Bruno was my husband.

I had convinced myself. Bruno knew it. I heard his low laugh of triumph.

"Oh, Damask," I heard him say. "You are the one for me. You love me, do you not… utterly, completely... so that you are ready to give up all for me?”

I heard myself answer: "Yes, Bruno. I do.”

And that was my wedding night; there on our bed of bracken we were as one.

Nothing, I knew, could ever be the same again; and even in these moments of passion I could not rid myself of the thought that I was taking part in some sacrificial ceremony.

It was early morning when I crept into the house, bemused and disheveled. We had walked back to the house together, our arms about each other, and Bruno had stood waving until I disappeared inside.

I was in a state of exultation and wonderment after my experience and I could think of nothing else. Life had become a glorious adventure. I had reached a peak of happiness and for the time I did not want to look back or look forward; I wanted to remain poised as though on my mountaintop, to savor all that had happened, to remember our whispered words, our need of each other, to recall the moments of perfect union.

Bruno seemed to me like a god. That sense of power which had always been apparent was magnified.

There is no one like him in the whole world, I thought. And he loves me. I am his and he is mine forever.

I had come across the hall and as I was about to mount the stairs I was aware of a movement. A figure appeared. I was looking up at Simon Caseman. In the dim light his face looked chalky; the fox's mask stood out clearly, his eyes were narrowed.

"So," he said quietly but venomously, "you creep out at night like other sluts.”

His hand darted forward and I thought he was going to strike me, but he had plucked a leaf from my sleeve. "You could have chosen a more comfortable bed," he added.

I attempted to walk past him but he barred my way.

"I am your guardian, your stepfather. I want an explanation of this wanton behavior.”

"What if I don't propose to give it?”

"Do you think I shall allow this? Do you think you can deceive me? You betray yourself.

I know what has happened. Nothing was ever more clear to me.”

"It is my own affair.”

"And do you expect me to feed and clothe your bastards when they come along?”

I was suddenly so angry that I brought up a hand to strike him. He caught my arm before I could do so and he brought his face close to mine. "You slut!" he cried.

"You...”

"Do you wish to wake the household?”

"It would be good to do so that they might know what sort you are. Whore! Doxy! Any man's for the asking!”

"I proved I was not that to you.”

"By God," he said, "I will teach you...”

I could see the lust in his eyes and it frightened me.

"If you do not release me," I said, "I shall awaken the whole household. It would be well for my mother to know the kind of man she has married.”

"A man who is doing his duty by her daughter?" he asked, but I could see that I had alarmed him. He knew my sharp tongue and he feared it.

He stood back a few paces. "I am your stepfather," he said. "I have a responsibility toward you. It is my duty to take charge of you.”

"As you took charge of my father's possessions?”

"You ungrateful slut! Where would you have been if I had not allowed you to stay here? If I had not come here....”

The words slipped out: "Perhaps my father would be free » now.

He was taken aback, and I thought: I believe it's true. I believe he betrayed him.

Loathing for him swept over me. He was about to speak but he changed his mind. It was as though he were trying to pretend he had not understood the significance of my words.

There was a silence while we looked at each other. I knew my suspicion of him showed in my face; in his a certain hatred mingling with his lust.