Sins of Omission (23 page)

Frances pulled the bed hangings closed and curled into a ball, enjoying the feeling of sanctuary that being cocooned in her bed gave her.  There were nights when she still dreamed that Lionel was in her room, grabbing her by the ankles and dragging her to the edge of the bed, a twisted smile on his face as he enjoyed her terror.  The dreams came less often now, but sometimes, Frances woke up with a scream on her lips and cold sweat on her brow.  It took a few minutes for her to remember that she was in Paris, alone in her room, and safe.  Frances finally relaxed out of her fetal position and lay on her back, staring at the indiscernible pattern on the canopy. 

Frances heard Neve’s voice in the corridor, talking to the baby as she passed Frances’s room, and was overcome with a storm of emotions ranging from smugness to deep regret.  The regret was about deceiving Lord and Lady Everly.  Frances wished that she could confide in Neve and talk to her as she used to, but she found herself keeping her distance since the baby was born, unable to share in the joy when her own heart broke every time she thought of the baby she’d lost. She knew it wasn’t Neve’s fault, and she had done everything in her power to help her, but the pain was still there every time she saw the smiling, gurgling baby. 

Of course, had Gabriel lived, Frances would be facing different kinds of problems.  She would have no money, no place to live, and no desirable future, since the only way that her son could claim his rightful place was if she were to return to Lionel.  Gabriel would either grow up a pauper, or fall into the clutches of his father and suffer whatever cruelty Lionel decided to dish out as punishment for Frances, since she would suffer deeply if her son were abused.  Perhaps Lionel would still be alive if she hadn’t lost the baby or asked to leave England with Lord Everly, but whatever might have happened, no hardship in the world was as soul-crushing as losing a child.  Strangely enough, Frances never thought of Gabriel as being Lionel’s.  He was hers, and hers alone.  Frances said a prayer for Gabriel’s soul, as she did every night, and turned her attention to more current issues.

Once safely back home, Frances had time to analyze her feelings for Luke.  What happened at Versailles had not been his fault.  Luke had done everything right; he’d wooed her, offered her a secure future, and made love to her gently and respectfully.  A beautiful little package had been delivered the day after they returned from Versailles, containing a pair of dangling sapphire earrings set in gold and encrusted with tiny diamonds.  The earrings were the most beautiful thing Frances had ever owned, but she was reluctant to put them on, feeling the weight of responsibility at accepting the gift.  Did Luke believe them to be secretly engaged? 

Frances wasn’t ready to commit to Luke, but she felt that she owed their courtship another chance.  Now that she knew what to expect, she had to try it one more time to see if things got better.  Luke promised to be patient, and now that she’d already gone to bed with him, she had nothing to lose.  Perhaps he was right, and she just needed to relax.  She’d gone out to meet Luke under the pretense of taking the air in the Gardens de Tuileries with Sabine.  Sabine dutifully walked around while Frances joined Luke in his carriage, which was parked on the south side of the park just behind the la Terrasse du Bord-de-L'eau.  Frances nearly changed her mind when Luke drew her into the carriage and into his arms, his hungry mouth devouring hers as she nestled in his lap. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t see me again,” Luke said as he planted feather kisses on the tops of her breasts.  “You seemed so distant after we made love in Versailles.” 

He sounded like a petulant child, but Frances could understand how he felt.  He needed to be reassured, and she had turned her back on him.  Well, she was here, wasn’t she, ready to try again.  There wasn’t enough room in the carriage to lie down, so Luke unlaced his breeches and pushed up Frances’s skirts, impaling her on him.  Frances closed her eyes and willed herself to relax, trying to focus on the excitement of their secret rendezvous.  Sabine thought this tryst was absolutely delicious, giggling all the way to the park and giving Frances helpful suggestions.

Luke grabbed Frances’s hips and began to move within her; his eyes closed in concentration.  Frances wasn’t frightened or tense, but try as she might, she felt nothing other than discomfort and impatience.  Luke pulled down her bodice and buried his face in her breasts, then caught her nipple between his lips. 
Any woman would enjoy this
, Frances thought frantically, but all she wanted was to flee.  Luke shuddered as he came, and Frances got off his lap and carefully adjusted her skirts. 

“I must go,” she said as she reached for the door. 

“Frances, when will I see you again?” Luke called after her, but Frances was already out the door, running down the path.

She met Sabine, who was growing impatient, and treated her to a cup of chocolate at a nearby brasserie.  Frances had been pensive as they walked home, and now that she was alone in the sanctuary of her bedroom, she felt sure that she couldn’t marry Luke.  Luke was a good man and deserved a woman who loved him.  He needed someone who felt more for him than tolerance, and at this point, Frances was sure that she could never bring herself to truly want him.  She tried, she really had, but as much as she enjoyed being kissed and caressed, she couldn’t bear having him inside her, and if she couldn’t bear Luke, she probably couldn’t bear any man.  The thought of someone having rights to her body terrified her.  Even someone as patient as Luke would become a despot if she rejected him again and again.  He would demand that she allow him to exercise his marital rights, and would probably take her by force if she refused.

She tried talking to Sabine, but the maid had different ideas about love and sex.  She was practical and levelheaded, but then again, she’d also never been truly hurt, not like Frances, or lost a baby. 

“Sabine, are you in love with your Pierre?” Frances asked as they sipped their hot chocolate.  Sabine hardly ever spoke of her lover, but escaped to see him whenever circumstances allowed.

“Of course not,” Sabine replied indignantly.  “I enjoy his company and he pleases me in bed, but I am most definitely not in love.”

“How do you know?” Frances persisted.  “If you enjoy his company and his lovemaking, why don’t you love him?”

“Because loving leads to promises and heartbreak, or worse, weddings.  I am not ready to settle down and spend my days cleaning some mean little house, cooking, washing, and taking care of screaming babies.  I like being a lady’s maid.  I got to visit Versailles, for the love of God.  How many women of my station can make that claim?  Besides, men change once they become husbands.”

“In what way?”

“They lose interest since the thrill of the chase is over.  You must always remain out of reach,
ma petite
, in order to keep a man’s attention.  Pierre is always going on about marrying me, but I tell him every time that I will not marry him.  Not now, not ever,” Sabine said smugly, her dark eyes dancing with merriment.

“But, are you not afraid of losing him?” Frances asked, confused.

“When you become afraid of losing a man that’s when you know you are truly in love.  That’s the one you marry.  Are you afraid of losing Luke Marsden?”

Frances grew thoughtful, trying to imagine Luke with another woman or back in England.  She felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of being replaced, but the twinge quickly vanished.  She liked Luke, but the thought of losing him didn’t cause her any pain. 

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” Frances finally replied.

“Then you are not in love.  Isn’t it delicious to have a lover?” Sabine asked, her pouty lips stretching into a sly grin.

Frances smiled back at Sabine.  The idea had been delicious, but the reality was quite different.  Frances felt ashamed, confused, and disappointed.  The stickiness between her thighs was only too real, and she suddenly jumped up, desperate to get home and wash away any remnants of Luke. 

“But I am not finished with my chocolate,” Sabine whined as Frances tossed a coin down on the table.

“Yes, you are,” Frances threw over her shoulder, already halfway to the door.

May 1686

Aboard the
La Belle

A lashing rain beat against the windows, leaching all daylight from the captain’s cabin.  The ship rose and fell as it rode the swells that seemingly came out of nowhere within the past hour, making Max a little nervous about the vessel’s ability to weather the storm.  Gone was the blazing sun and the turquoise waters of the Caribbean, replaced by the gray vastness of the Atlantic, which was heaving and churning as if some great beast had stirred to life within its depths and was now roaring and writhing in fury. 

It was around noon, but it was so dark that a brace of candles had been lit, and the captain, who normally spent his days on the bridge, was hiding out from the storm and indulging in a game of chess with Max while the first mate manned the bridge.  Max could have defeated Captain Benoit several times over, but he purposely made clumsy moves in an effort to prolong the game.  He didn’t get to spend much time alone with the captain, so this was an opportunity to drink some good wine, practice his French, and try to further his own interests, despite the gnawing fear that roiled in Max’s stomach every time the ship listed precariously to the side.  It was tossed about on the waves like a child’s toy, but the captain seemed unconcerned, which gave Max a measure of comfort.

The captain’s eyes twinkled as he surveyed Max over the rim of his cup, his lips moist with claret.  “You are letting me win, Lord Everly,” he drawled, partially annoyed and partially amused by Max’s tactics.  “Is it because you think me so dimwitted that I can’t possibly win on my own, or because you hope to placate me before asking me for something?” the captain asked, a knowing look in his eyes.  Max was caught red-handed, so he could either play dumb or be honest, which he felt was the wiser course of action when it came to the captain.  He was a shrewd man, and a brave one, so Max had to give him his due and treat him with the respect he deserved.

“You are clearly not that dimwitted, or you wouldn’t have discerned that I’m letting you win, nor ascertained the reason for my generosity,” Max replied, enjoying their banter.  The captain would be more generous if he were in a good mood.

“What is it that you want of me,
milord
?” the captain asked with an indulgent smile, curious what his passenger might ask for given that he was hardly in a position to offer anything in return for a favor.

“My kinsman, Lord Hugo Everly and I, have some — shall we say -– unpleasant history.  I would like to pay him a visit when in France, but not as a pauper.  My downfall would give my cousin great satisfaction,” Max stated, watching the captain to see if he might offer any helpful suggestions, but Captain Benoit remained mute, forcing Max to go on.  “I need to find some sort of employment which would allow me to set myself up as a gentleman of my rank would do.”

“Such as?” Captain Benoit asked, clearly amused.  “Gentlemen of your rank don’t have employment; they sit back and spend their sizeable inheritances while others break their backs to make sure those inheritances don’t dwindle, but grow with every passing year.”

“As would I, had I not been sentenced to deportation,” Max replied smoothly.  “I cannot simply return to England and claim what’s mine, so I must bide my time, and France is as good a place as any.”  Max took a sip of claret in order to gather his thoughts.  When he had the conversation with the captain in his mind, he foresaw the captain instantly offering him some kind of solution, but the captain seemed reluctant to commit himself to helping Max, despite their mutual respect and budding friendship.

“True,” Captain Benoit replied thoughtfully, “But what is it you are really asking me,
milord
?”

“I’ve given the matter some serious thought, and it would appear that the only employment I might be suitable for is that of a tutor.  I am well-educated and can teach mathematics, philosophy, and English.”  Max had thought long and hard about what type of skills would be in demand in seventeenth-century France, but he had no knowledge of Latin or Greek, could hardly teach physics or chemistry since he had no idea what was actually known and accepted in this time period, and knew very little about astronomy. 

“Hmm, that’s a thought.  Are you well versed in Greek, Latin, and theology?” the captain asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer.

“No, but I can teach English, which can be useful to someone with political aspirations or mercantile connections to English-speaking countries.  It won’t be long before there’s brisk trade with the American colonies, and English will become the language of commerce.”

Captain Benoit tilted his head to the side, deep in thought.  “People who wish to trade with France should learn to speak French,” he finally said, but the idea had been planted, and Max had to be patient.  The captain was a businessman, one who made a living by smuggling and piracy.  Perhaps he could find some use for Max’s talents, especially if he hoped to branch out. 

“Another game,
mon capitaine
?” Max asked as he surveyed the captain over the board.  The captain had won, but they both knew his victory was a false one.

“Only if you play fair this time,
milord
,” Captain Benoit replied as he refilled their cups.  “I would rather lose after putting on a brave show than win unfairly.  I might be a pirate, but I am an honorable one,” he added with a wink.

Max bowed in acquiescence, ready to take the captain at his word and defeat him in under ten moves.  Thunder cracked outside, and a flash of lightning momentarily lit up the cabin, illuminating everything in a bluish hue and making everything appear like a still from a black-and-white film.  If they survived this storm, they’d be docking in less than a week.  The thought made Max’s stomach clench with anxiety.  While aboard the ship, he felt a certain sense of security, knowing that he couldn’t do anything until they arrived in Europe, but now the moment was almost upon him, and he had to find a way of putting his plan into action.