In the Commodore's Hands. Mary Nichols. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Mary Nichols
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Историческая литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472004055
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stay at home and wait.’

      ‘I am quite hopeless when it comes to waiting,’ she said, laughing. ‘Sir John will tell you that. Patience was left out when the angels decided on my virtues.’

      ‘Which I do not doubt are many,’ Jay said with that same gallantry he had displayed before. She wondered how he could say all the right things, yet his cold eyes told another story. ‘If you insist on coming, then so be it, I only ask that you stay in the carriage some distance away while I reconnoitre. It is not a good idea for the prison authorities to know we are acquainted with one another.’

      She did not think they were acquainted at all; it would take more than a conversation over supper to get to know him, to tear down the barrier of ice he seemed to have built around himself. She surprised herself by wondering what he would be like if he were to let a little warmth into his soul. ‘I will do as you suggest,’ she said meekly.

      There was a pause in the conversation while the cloth was removed and several dishes of fruit and sweet tartlets brought in to conclude the meal. When it was resumed, Jay seemed to set aside the business of freeing the Comte and enquired about the latest news from Paris.

      ‘It was in turmoil when I was there,’ Lisette said. ‘And so dirty and dismal. Everyone is worried what the King’s supporters will do next and since the death of Mirabeau, the most moderate of the Revolutionaries and the most popular, there is no telling what the mob might do.’

      ‘I met Mirabeau when he came to England,’ Jay said. ‘He seemed anxious to learn about our British democracy.’

      ‘Yes, that is what he advocated for France, but I do not know how much support he had. He maintained that for a government to succeed it must be strong, but to be strong it must have the support of the people, that was why he was so well liked, in spite of his dubious past. Now…’ She shrugged. ‘Who knows? The political clubs like the Jacobins, the Girondins and the Cordeliers are becoming more influential and extreme. The people are being encouraged to turn their hatred on to the nobility, whether they deserve it or no.’

      ‘Then the sooner we have you and your father out of France, the better,’ Jay said.

      The evening broke up after that and Jay offered to escort Lisette home, which was only a few minutes’ walk away.

      Chapter Two

      The night was balmy with a slight breeze that did no more than ruffle Lisette’s shawl and it was so still they could hear the distant sound of the sea breaking on the pebbles of the river estuary less than a couple of kilometres away. Above them a new moon hung on its back and the stars made a pincushion of the dark sky.

      This peaceful country lane gave no hint of what was going on in Paris, the main seat of all the troubles, where the parks had been given over to making arms and uniforms for the army in the war against Austria, where Revolutionaries in red caps manned the barricades at every entrance to the city and stopped people going in and out to search them for contraband or for aristos taking money and valuables out of the country, which was strictly prohibited. They could expect no mercy.

      She was thankful that Monsieur Drymore had had the foresight to bring his yacht to Normandy and they would not have to brave the mob to leave the country by the usual route from Paris to Calais. Even so, they still had to overcome the guards at the prison and spirit her father safely to the vessel. For that she needed the enigmatic man at her side.

      At last he was constrained by politeness to break the silence. ‘You speak excellent English, mademoiselle.’

      ‘My mother was English. My father met her on a visit to London in ’64 and they fell in love on sight. Her parents disapproved. You see, she came from an old aristocratic family and, in their eyes, he was only the grandson of a merchant who thought he could buy his way into the nobility and French nobility at that, which hardly counted.’

      ‘But they married anyway.’

      ‘Yes. She came to live with Papa in France and never went home again. She rarely spoke of her family. She told us Papa and Michel and I were all she wanted and needed, but sometimes I wonder if she was simply accepting what could not be helped and would have liked to be reunited with her parents. It was not to be. She died of a fever she caught when travelling with Papa in India.’

      ‘I am sorry to hear that. Please accept my condolences.’

      ‘Thank you. But I should warn you, it has left my father bitter against the English and he will feel mortified to have been rescued by one of them.’

      ‘But he is my grandfather’s friend, is he not?’

      ‘Oh, yes, but Sir John has lived in France so long, he is almost French.’

      ‘I do not think he regards himself in that way. He is anxious to return to his homeland.’

      ‘Yes, I know,’ she said with a sigh. ‘It is Papa who will be exiled, if we go to England. Their roles will be reversed.’

      ‘The Comte will not refuse to go, will he? I will not force him if he does not wish it.’

      ‘Let us see what he says when we have set him free, but I do not think he will argue. For all his defiance, he is a frightened man. And so is your grandfather, or I miss my guess.’

      ‘What about you?’ he asked softly. ‘Are you afraid?’

      ‘I would be a liar if I said I was not, but for Papa’s sake, I will try to be strong.’

      ‘Methinks you have already shown that you are,’ he said. ‘But there is a difference between being strong and being foolhardy. I beg you to remember that.’ He spoke so earnestly she turned to look at him in surprise, but he was looking straight ahead and she could read nothing from his profile.

      ‘Indeed I will. But tell me about yourself. I know only what little Sir John has told me. Are you married?’

      ‘I was once. My wife died.’

      ‘I am sorry, not for a moment would I add to your grief.’

      ‘It was over three years ago. An accident while I was away at sea.’

      ‘And have you not thought to marry again?’

      He looked sharply at her, then turned away again. ‘No. Once is enough. I would not put myself or my children through that again.’

      ‘You have children?’

      ‘Yes, Edward is ten and Anne is eight. They are staying with my parents while I am away and making mischief with their cousins, I do not doubt.’ His voice softened when speaking of his children, which made her realise this seemingly cold man must have a heart.

      ‘Your parents being the daughter and son-in-law of Sir John?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘It must be lovely to have so large a family,’ she said, a little wistfully. ‘I only have Papa and Michel.’

      ‘Perhaps we could find your English relations for you.’

      ‘I doubt they would accept me. They never once wrote to Mama.’

      ‘But it was all so long ago. My mother is longing to be reunited with Sir John, so why not you and your grandparents?’

      ‘Let us wait and see, shall we?’ she said.

      They had entered the gates of the château. In the light of a torch set in front of the door they could see the Liberty Tree casting a long shadow across the gravel of the drive. Its leaves had fallen and were scattered on the ground, but the decorations still hung there. ‘What is that?’ he asked.

      She explained it to him. ‘I dare not have it taken down,’ she added. ‘It will only inflame the mob further and I do not want to make it more difficult for my father.’

      ‘Or be arrested yourself,’ he added.

      ‘No.’

      They