In the Commodore's Hands (12 page)

‘I understand.’

‘If you don’t want to do it, we can cancel the whole thing. God knows, I would rather you did.’

‘I can’t do that. Lisette is relying on me. I must leave within the hour if I am to catch the tide. I have to say goodbye to the children and Mama, and Mademoiselle Giradet, though if she starts to argue again I shall turn my back on her and leave her.’

‘She did not come down to breakfast. Her maid said she was unwell and would remain in bed today.’

‘It is nothing serious, I hope.’

‘No. The headache. The servant said it was probably the worry of it all. I should slip away quietly.’

Before he left, he wrote a note to Lisette, wishing her a speedy recovery from her headache and telling her to try not to worry. He would be back with her brother in no time. He gave it to a worried-looking Hortense. Sam bade farewell to his wife and they left with his mother and father and children waving goodbye from the courtyard.

Lord Drymore’s carriage was a strong one used by his lordship to ply between Norfolk and London and they fairly rattled along. They spent the time talking about the voyage and what they might expect when they arrived in France, but Jay could not banish the sight of Lisette’s tear-filled eyes from his memory, nor the feel of her soft body in his arms and the smell of lavender in her hair. It had shaken him to the core to find he wanted her. Jay Drymore, who had eschewed the company of women and had sworn never to become entangled with one again, desired this French spinster who was, moreover, the niece of Gerald Wentworth. It was as well he was going away for a few days; it might cool his ardour.

The
Lady Anne
, with its newly painted name, was at anchor on the quay, but she was ready to sail as soon as Jay and Sam were aboard and wind and tide were favourable. The breeze was from the north-west, which would aid them when they were out of The Wash, but until then they were obliged to tack slowly out to sea. Once in the German Ocean, they turned to sail along the Norfolk coast before catching a strong north-easterly and the vessel fairly skimmed along.

‘At this rate we should make Calais in three days,’ Jay said to Sam on their second day at sea, as they stood at the rail watching the wake they left behind them. ‘Two, three days to Paris and then—’

They heard a cry and a scuffle behind them and turned to see Lieutenant Sandford ushering Lisette towards them. ‘Found her hiding in the ship’s boat,’ he said.

Jay surveyed the dishevelled woman. ‘I might have known,’ he said, shocked and angry with himself for not having foreseen what she would do. What a fool he had been to assume that because he said no, she would meekly accept it. She had already shown she could be wilful and determined and she had said she wanted to come, too; it ought to have alerted to him, especially when she did not appear for breakfast. ‘How did you manage to get on board ahead of us?’

‘I rode across country and before you say anything, the stable boy rode alongside me and took the horse back…’

‘I’ll have his guts…’

‘You will not. I had the devil of a job to persuade him, but the threat that I would abandon a
valuable horse finally overcame his reluctance. Do not blame him.’

‘We will have to put ashore.’

‘Why?’

‘To take you back, of course.’

‘I won’t go back. You cannot spare the time. Michel could be thrown into prison, even executed, any day, and unless I miss my guess, the errand you have been given by the British Government won’t allow you to loiter.’

‘You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met,’ Jay said, furious with her, even as he admired her courage. ‘Very well, you may stay on board. And I do mean stay on board.’ He turned to Lieutenant Sandford, who had been listening to the exchange with curiosity and no little amusement. ‘Have my cabin prepared for Miss Giradet, if you please, and put my things in the second one.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave him a winning smile, which threatened to disarm him completely. ‘I am prodigiously hungry. I have only had a piece of bread and cheese since I left.’

‘And food,’ Jay called after the lieutenant, who was disappearing down the companionway.

‘You are not angry with me, are you?’ she asked as Sam, who could not stifle his grin,
took himself off to the other side of the yacht and they were alone.

‘Very angry,’ he said.

‘I am sorry for that. But it was a risk I had to take, surely you understand that?’

‘I could understand it of a man, but a gently brought up young lady is not expected to be so hoydenish.’

‘I fear It was the way I was raised,’ she said, remembering Maurice Chasseur had made the same comment. It was a kind of stigma she had lived with for years and to have this man, whom she revered, say the same thing hurt dreadfully. ‘Michel and I were always into mischief and where he went, I went. I did whatever he did, I would not be left behind.’

‘Then it is no wonder your father thinks of you as a second son.’

‘Yes, Michel had his heart. When he went away to court, I tried to take his place.’

‘Impossible!’ He laughed.

‘I know that.’ It was said with a sigh. ‘It is why I must do what I can to restore Michel to him now.’

That she chose to interpret his comment in a way he had not intended, he let pass. ‘That is why I am going to France. There was no necessity for you to come, too.’

‘You are going to need me.’

‘Oh, you think so, do you?’

‘Yes.’

‘No, because you will stay on board and not set foot in France. That is my last word on the subject.’

Lisette did not think there was anything to be gained by pursuing the argument. She was a good sailor and might as well enjoy the voyage and try not to think of what lay ahead. As the seaman who was also the cook came to tell them there was a meal prepared in the captain’s day cabin, they repaired there and afterwards took a turn round the deck. The crew, many of whom had known Jay for years and had never known him bested by a woman, watched and awaited developments with covert amusement.

The wind, though decidedly cool, was fair for France and all sail was set to take advantage of it. She was determined to be pleasant and unargumentative in order to dispel his annoyance with her and asked questions about the yacht and how it was navigated. When that subject seemed exhausted, she asked him about his life at sea, which had begun when he was ten years old as a cabin boy. He had progressed to midshipman, then lieutenant, then captain and lastly commodore, he told her.

‘Do you miss the sea?’ she asked.

‘Sometimes, but I am content at home with my children.’

‘They must miss their mother.’

‘They did at first. She was a little like you—too adventurous for her own good.’

‘How did she die?’

‘In a riding accident. She tried to jump a hedge, not realising there was a ditch on the other side of it. The horse fell on top of her.’ It was said flatly, like something learned by rote and repeated whenever occasion demanded. She could not help feeling there was more to it than he was prepared to tell her.

‘I am so sorry. I should not have asked. Please forgive me.’

‘You are forgiven.’

They were silent for several minutes, looking out over the rail, each with their own thoughts. Then he spotted something on the horizon and beckoned to Lieutenant Sandford to give him his telescope. ‘A Dutch East Indiaman,’ he said, handing the glass to Lisette. ‘See over there.’ He leaned close to her to point the vessel out. ‘It will not bother us.’

She felt his warm breath on her ear and a tingle coursed right through her body, which she suddenly recognised as desire. Her hand was
shaking as she handed back the instrument. He must not see how he affected her, he must not. He thought she was a hoyden, almost mannish, but at that moment she never felt more feminine. ‘I think I would like to go to my cabin and rest,’ she said abruptly.

‘Of course.’ He chuckled. ‘You could not have slept very well in the ship’s boat last night.’

‘No, I was too cold and hungry and the floor was hard.’

‘Serves you right.’ But he was smiling. Was he enjoying a joke at her expense? Did he know the effect he had on her? She had better take care in the future to remain aloof.

He escorted her down, opened her cabin door and bowed her in before returning to the deck where Sam joined him.

‘What now, Commodore?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. Miss Giradet will be left on board when we drop anchor at Calais. I can’t have her muddying the waters.’

‘She might be right, you know. You might need someone who knows her way about France and can help with the language and customs.’

‘My French is more than adequate for a British diplomat. And how could I explain the presence of a single woman at my side? Do I travel
with a mistress?’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Unless you fancy taking her on.’

‘Not on your life.’ Sam was indignant. ‘I am a happily married man, have been this last thirty-eight years. Susan would slay me alive. Anyway, Miss Giradet would not agree.’

‘I am sure she would not. We will say no more on the subject. Go and put out my clothes for this evening.’

‘Aye, aye, sir.’

Jay paced the deck. He had laughed as if making a joke when he suggested Sam should take Lisette as a mistress, but the feelings that had raised were horribly akin to jealousy and that made him annoyed with himself. His emotions were in turmoil. His head told him the last thing he wanted was entanglement with a woman, any woman, but his heart was contradicting that. In order to still it, he kept telling himself she was Wentworth’s niece and none of that family could be trusted.

They dropped anchor outside Calais in the afternoon three days later, there to await permission to enter the busy harbour. It was late when they docked and Jay decided to stay on board until the morning, when he intended to hire a coach to take him and Sam to Paris.

‘I’m coming too,’ Lisette told him as they ate breakfast together next morning. Sam had gone ashore to acquire a carriage.

‘You, madam, are staying on board.’

‘Jay, please let me come. I cannot bear to stay here doing nothing when I could be a help. I’ll be good, I promise.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘I need to see and talk to Michel.’

‘You may do that when we return with him.’

‘Supposing he doesn’t want to come and wishes to stay by the King? I will have to persuade him for Papa’s sake. Please, Jay. I will not ask another thing of you, if you grant this request.’

‘You have no chaperon.’

‘Pah to that! We are too far from England for it to matter there, and the ordinary women of France don’t bother with chaperons.’

‘Let her come, sir.’ Sam had returned from his errand unheard by either of them. ‘After all, if you let her out of your sight, God knows what mischief she will get up to.’

Jay laughed. ‘There is that. Oh, very well, madam, you may come, but I have a feeling I am going to regret it.’

Lisette scrambled to her feet and raced down
to her cabin to fetch the bag containing her spare clothes before he could change his mind.

Sam had not hired a driver, preferring to drive the carriage himself. ‘Can’t have too many people knowing our business, can we, sir?’ he explained.

Thus it was that Jay and Lisette travelled in the coach without the benefit of a third person. Determined not to be contentious, they talked intermittently about safe subjects, like their childhood, their likes and dislikes, and when they ran out of things to say and ask, sat side by side in companionable silence.

The first sign that the journey would not be easy was their failure to find replacement horses. They were obliged to continue with the animals they had, which slowed them to a walking pace with frequent stops to rest. It gave the travellers the opportunity to observe the countryside. Everywhere was run down: plaster was falling off the buildings, window frames needed painting and often the glass was missing. The fields were overgrown and the cattle skinny. Most of the men they saw wore cut-off trousers, striped waistcoats and threadbare coats, earning them the name of
sans culottes
, and the women were in skirts and ragged shawls. Almost all wore the red caps of the Revolution.
There were some more prosperous, who rode horses or travelled in carriages, whipping up their horses to pass the slow-moving coach, spattering it with mud.

Sam drove past several inns where they could have stopped for the night, saying they were hovels and he would find somewhere better. Jay, who would happily have stopped had he been alone, agreed to go on for Lisette’s sake. She had long since ceased to chatter and was asleep with her head lolling on his shoulder. She needed a bed, not a flea pit.

It was very late when Sam drew up in the yard of what had once been a substantial posting inn in Amiens and jumped down to open the door for them. ‘I’m afraid this will have to do,’ he said. ‘The horses are done for and we cannot keep going all night. I’ll go in and bespeak beds.’

Jay roused Lisette. ‘Wake up, Lisette. We have stopped.’

She opened her eyes, mortified to realise that she was in Jay’s arms again. So much for aloofness; it was impossible with this man. She sat up. ‘Where are we?’

‘Amiens, still over a hundred kilometres
from Paris. We need food and drink and somewhere to sleep.’

Sam returned followed by the innkeeper. He was enormously fat, the first fat man they had seen since leaving Calais.
‘Bonsoir, monsieur, madame,’
he said, rubbing his hands in his sacking apron while endeavouring to bow to them. ‘We have a room all ready for you. Your servant will have to share with others, I am afraid.’

‘But…’ Jay began, then stopped. How could he explain that Lisette was not his wife without compromising her? His conversation with Sam about mistresses came back to him. Lisette was not mistress material. How he wished he had not agreed to bring her, but he had and now he had to deal with the consequences. ‘Thank you,’ he said, leaving the coach and turning to help Lisette down. She was still drowsy and had not heard the conversation. ‘Come, my dear, you will soon be comfortable,’ he said in French and then murmured in English, ‘Trust me.’