Sea Gem (8 page)

‘There was a lot of smuggling on the island in the last century. Before England changed her tariff laws, fortunes were made here which would make you hold your breath,’ she explained
delicately. ‘My father Dan was a smuggler and
that
is all I’m prepared to say,’ she ended flatly then added a sharp addenda. ‘Duret does not know and is not to be
told either!’

Mary blinked. ‘Because he is a dreamer?’

‘Mary!’ Louise gasped and halted. This girl was almost too sharp for her own good.

Mary saw shutters slip down and reverted back to the quarry. ‘Me and the quarry books?’ she prodded.

‘You can soon learn to do the books for me. Check the Bills of Lading, the fob and general accounts. Then if I do sell out you could go in on the ground floor with tomatoes. By then Duret
will be home and that could be a joint business venture. I had a clerk doing my books but the fool went off to war and is dead, for his pains.’

Mary was surprised. ‘Don’t you approve of men joining up then?’

Louise snorted disparagingly. ‘Of course I don’t when they go like romantic knights after the Holy Grail!’

‘But Britain has been bleeding for years and the Empire too!’

‘Don’t try and teach me history, girl!’ Louise said coldly. ‘I’m perfectly well aware that someone has to go but these tiny islands carry little population and we
are well tucked away from the mainland. What do you know about us? Precious little! But we are British. We give our allegiance to the Crown even if the Laws of Westminster have no authority here.
Did you know the Writ of Habeas Corpus cannot run here?’

Mary shook her head realising she was suddenly out of her depth and secretly shocked by Tante’s unexpected hostility.

‘We have total independence from Westminster. We have a Lieutenant Governor but, when the States—which is our Parliament—sits, he has to be on a chair lower down on the
platform than our Bailiff. For legal purposes we deal with the Privy Council only. What I’m saying Mary is that this is
not
our war. Oh! We’ll help the mother country but this
should be with professional soldiers, not giddy, starry-eyed young fools who rush off at the first note of a trumpet, dreaming of galloping into battle on a white charger. Charles was like that and
look what happened to him. Duret, of course, must copy. Young men never stop to think. Sometimes they are such fools,’ she said bitterly.

Mary was astounded at this passionate outburst and compared it to Victor’s similar views. Did this mean it was she who was out of step? Was Victor right and she wrong? Unease filled her as
she remembered her cold words. She swallowed miserably and knew she would have to do something. She was far too honest to allow a lie to rest uncorrected.

‘If you were against Duret enlisting, why didn’t you stop him?’ she asked, puzzled.

‘Easier to stop the tide!’ Louise snorted with anger. She thought back to her hot words and Duret’s, for once, equally obdurate stance. It had been his first, independent
action and she suspected it had been done deliberately, as some crazy way of proving his manhood. ‘Not all our young men went. Those with sense stayed and they are alive,’ she ended
sadly.

* * *

The weather swiftly developed into the island’s spring in advance of that on the mainland. As Mary wheeled her cycle out again, she felt warmth bask her shoulders from the
sun. Tante had taken her into St Peter Port and bought a new, more suitable wardrobe. She wore a white, long-sleeved blouse with a dove grey skirt, shorter than normal but easier for the cycle and
Mary had never been so well dressed in all her life. This bothered her conscience, particularly today, as she knew where she was going to cycle.

Sam frowned as he watched her freewheel down the lane and shook his head dubiously. He felt sorry for her and was agitated at what might happen to her. Although the girl had a strong character
she had not yet met Louise on the warpath. What would happen at the inevitable showdown?

Mary turned left and pedalled easily, not really wanting to arrive in one sense but, on the other hand, why was her heart fluttering with excitement?

She was quite unaware of an observer, carefully positioned with an old-fashioned telescope.

It was a gorgeous day and Mary admired the many open spring flowers and the new leaves. The sea was placid and she guessed it was still on the ebb, then grinned at herself. Already she had
started to regulate her life by the tides because she had an empathy with the island and its ways.

She had learned much from Sam who was an excellent tutor. She had fallen into the habit of strolling with him in the evening after the cows had been milked. He had started to teach her Guernsey
patois and Mary was smugly pleased with the way she was picking this up. Only last evening they had walked slowly with the cows moving ahead but taking their time as only cows will. One of the
animals was particularly inquisitive and kept butting Mary’s skirt, trying to nibble her calves. In final exasperation Mary had swung around and, with hands on hips shouted, ‘Fiche le
camp!’

Sam had let out a bellow of laughter and Mary was instantly disconcerted.

‘Did I say it wrong?’

‘Not at all!’ Sam croaked holding his ribs with mirth. ‘You just sounded so annoyed telling the cow to “buzz off”.’

‘Oh! That’s all right then!’ Mary told him quite delighted with herself.

Still quivering with amusement, Sam continued what he had been about to explain.

‘There is another old island custom which still holds force. It goes back to the Norman times but you should know about it. It’s the “Clameur de Haro”. If anyone is
wronged and they feel deeply about the matter, they simply fall on their knees where the wrong took place and, before two witnesses, cry out “Haro! Haro! Haro!”.’

‘Three times?’ Mary asked with interest.

Sam nodded. ‘Then the aggrieved person must say, “A mon aide, mon prince! On me fait tort!” He or she must finally recite the Lord’s Prayer in French.’

Mary halted in astonishment. ‘What on earth does all that mean?’ she asked practically.

‘Such an action has the force of an immediate injunction!’ Sam told her. ‘It puts a halt to the wrong until a court action can take place and it’s a very powerful force,
I can tell you!’

Mary was impressed. ‘Is that so?’ she murmured thoughtfully. ‘I think I’d better learn the Lord’s Prayer in French then. Who knows when I might need it!’ she
said, half in joke. It never entered her head that a day might come when this joke became deadly serious.

‘Do people still actually use this ancient custom?’ she wanted to know next for it still appeared far-fetched to her logic.

‘Oh! My word they do!’ Sam replied forcefully.

Mary smiled at the vision of herself performing some such similar act on the mainland. The local policeman would have her locked up. She thought about this as she pedalled. What a lot she had
learned and what a complete ignoramus she had been with Duret. She was a different person now but was this good or bad? She was unsure.

She reached the place, dismounted and pushed her cycle to the dip near the bushes. He was already there and her heart thundered. She climbed a slope and looked around, spotting him right away.
He had been at the sea’s edge but, observing her, he stood, waved, then came bounding over. Two paces away, he skidded to a halt, his face alight with pleasure, his eyes sparkling a deep
purple but did not speak. Eloquently, he simply held out his two hands to her.

Instinctively, Mary stepped forward two paces and placed hers in his then he drew her to him, looked deeply into her eyes for a few seconds before bending to kiss her. Mary felt his sweet taste
and willingly, almost naturally, she slid into the protection of his arms to return his wholehearted affection.

Finally he pushed her back four inches and surveyed her. ‘I’m
so
glad you came!’

He had been terrified she wouldn’t, cold at what he would then have to do but now his day blossomed into sun and light. He tucked her arm under his and they walked slowly down to the sea
where they had sat before. He took off his jacket, spread it on the warm grass and they sat down, both suddenly a little shy and apprehensive.

‘You do look lovely,’ he told her huskily.

Mary looked down and smoothed an imaginary crease away from her new skirt then, lifting her eyes, she smiled gently. Once again his close proximity affected her breathing and nerves in the
strangest manner.

‘I have something to say,’ she started in a serious voice.

He almost flinched at her tone and held his breath.

‘I’m sorry about the way I spoke and behaved at our last meeting. I’ve had a shock because I have found out that Tante thinks just like you! It seems this island is different
from the mainland in more ways than one,’ she said contritely.

A gentle smile lit his face as he picked up both of her hands to stroke them with his strong fingers, soothing and caressing.

‘That was handsomely done,’ he complimented her, then gave a heavy sigh. ‘I’ve had a bad time since I last saw you,’ he admitted.

‘Why? What has happened?’ she asked anxiously.

He pulled a face. ‘You!’ he told her simply.

For a few seconds she failed to understand, then squeezed his hands in return and gave a tiny shrug.

‘I can’t get you out of my mind, day or night,’ Victor said slowly. ‘I go about my work, doing it to the best of my ability but all the time I’m looking for you. At
night I lie awake and see your face wreathed in the sea’s spray at the Rocques. I wake in the morning and you are still with me like an eternal dream spirit. I ache for you until I suffer
pure pain. Oh, my beloved sea nymph, you have bewitched me utterly for all time,’ his voice was grave. ‘I have known other girls of course on Jersey but they were—’ One
waving hand dismissed them impatiently. ‘But you, Mary Hinton? I love you! No! This is no sudden affectation. It is a true bolt of lightning. It’s the tip of your sword in my heart. You
are my other, natural half—’ He paused and eyed her with even more feeling. ‘And I know, I just know, you feel the same too. We cannot fight it. All we can do is accept. Your aura
even enfolds me as you sit alongside me here.’

‘Don’t!’ Mary cried, suddenly afraid. ‘You know I’m spoken for.’

‘No one is guaranteed until the gold band is on that finger!’ he retorted in a soft voice.

He kissed her again and Mary had neither strength nor will to object. Duret had never touched her core like this. Her defences crumbled.

‘Don’t let us waste our lives like Catherine and Heathcliff. Remember
Wuthering Heights
!’ he said suddenly, his voice urgent and demanding. ‘Marry me! Damn the
Noyens! We can leave the island and go—go anywhere in the world! We have no parents, no family. We answer to no man. We are young, strong and healthy. We’ll make a home elsewhere and
rear our children in South Africa, or New Zealand or Australia. Anywhere you say,’ he beseeched.

Mary pulled herself free. He was going much, much too fast. She felt tears prickle her eyes and shook her head helplessly. All he had said was true but the duplicity of running away secretly was
not her way.

‘I’ll not bolt without telling Duret or Tante,’ she managed to get out despite the lump in her throat.

His face broke into a savage grin of triumph. ‘You
will
be my wife?’

‘I’m mad!’ Mary groaned to herself.

‘You have never been more sane!’ he cried and kissed her again with savage passion as if stamping his ownership on her.

Mary took a deep breath and pulled away. ‘Victor!’ she cried, lifting her right hand. ‘Do not stampede me. I cannot stand that. I must think about all this first because there
are other people involved. Tante has been good to me, Duret must be told the truth and to his face as well. I’ll not do it through a letter’s ignominy. There is Sam too, a kind, loyal
friend—’

‘I’ll tell Noyen for you!’ he growled, feeling a tinge of alarm.

‘No!’ she remonstrated hotly. ‘I’ll do my own dirty work!’

He recognised the resolution in her tone and saw a strange fire in her eyes that was disconcerting. He opened his mouth to argue then thought better of it.

‘I have some more news,’ he began moving in another direction. ‘I’m being sent on a commission to Sark and Alderney tomorrow. The editor likes my humble efforts and he is
letting me loose around some of the other islands in the Bailiwick. I’ll be gone about a month I guess, then I have to go back to Jersey for a few days. The lawyer wants to see me about my
mother’s estate,’ he told her flushed with pride. ‘I think there might be a little bit of money for me after all and I have to sign some papers before it is released though I
don’t expect it will be much even then. When I return I’m coming to see you—and my awesome grandmère.’

‘No!’ Mary gasped. ‘She’ll run you off the property with a shotgun!’

‘We’ll see!’ he grinned wolfishly and played his trump card. ‘I met someone who knew her father and it appears I’m the spitting image of Dan Penford. When
Grandmère sees me she might just be a bit more charitable.’

‘Not when she knows about us!’ Mary pointed out quickly. ‘She’ll hate you even more.’

‘I don’t want any money from her,’ Victor said slowly, his voice cool. ‘Duret can have the lot because I can make my own way in life. What I do want is for
Grandmère to acknowledge that I
am
her grandson and that I am
not
a black hellion. I’m respectable, decent and a better man than Noyen to boot!’

‘Don’t do anything foolish!’ she begged him.

He sensed her worry and smiled. ‘I’ll never do anything to hurt you. I’ll only go and see her when we are committed, before we leave for abroad if you like.’

He was so sure of himself and Mary’s heart sank.

‘I’ve not agreed yet,’ she pointed out quietly.

He was startled. ‘But you will be my wife, won’t you?’ he insisted.

Mary set her teeth together. ‘Don’t bully me, Victor. I cannot cope with that. Let matters run their natural course. After all, you are going to be away for over a month,’ she
pointed out shrewdly. ‘Anyhow, I have to tell Duret.’