Love and Honor

by Harry Samkange

  “Thank you for your help, Monsieur Lacombe! I’m sure it will take no time for you both to move him,” Sérolène’s urgent voice cut in to deflect the rising tide of approaching violence. Lacombe looked over at Sérolène, his eyes unable to disguise his desire for her. This time she did not shrink from his gaze, seeking to draw his attention to her in order that Nicolas might be looked after.

  “Come on, then,” Lacombe said with a snort, bending down to lift the end of the litter as he openly ogled Sérolène, his rage redirected in directions more sinister and vile than those in his present company would ever have been able to conceive.

  Francis took the other end and they carried Nicolas down to the cabin, lifting him gingerly into the lower bunk while Sérolène looked on with concern. Francis helped Nicolas out of his suit while Sérolène procured for him some warm blankets under the watchful escort of Lieutenant Fortier. As Francis and the lieutenant both needed to return to the Bon Majesté, there was considerable debate, when Sérolène returned with the blankets, as to what to do, since she insisted on staying to watch over Nicolas. Though they were reluctant to leave Nicolas unattended, Francis considered it out of the question for Sérolène to remain aboard without proper escort, especially given the presence of Lacombe, whom Francis increasingly regarded as not just suspicious, but potentially dangerous as well. As they debated the proper course of action, their voices carrying through the relatively deserted ship, a stern figure dressed in black, carrying a lamp in one hand and a Bible in the other, came to admonish them.

  “It’s very late for such spirited conversation, don’t you think?” Madame Tarnaut’s voice rose in accusation above the others. Sérolène had never been more pleased to see her governess, whose sudden arrival provided the answer to their dilemma.

  “Madame! We’d quite forgotten you were still on board. What a wonderful stroke of fortune! We have need of you most desperately,” the vicomtesse said. The situation was quickly explained to Madame Tarnaut, who agreed to stay with Sérolène while she kept watch over Nicolas until the rest of the passengers returned. The dilemma now resolved, the lieutenant and Francis returned to the flagship while Sérolène, still dressed in her finest, sat next to Nicolas under the observant but now very welcome eyes of Madame Tarnaut. Sérolène sang to herself to help pass the time as she watched over her patient, who was now resting comfortably. Madame Tarnaut sat next to Sérolène, reading passages from her Bible.

  There was a knock on the door of the cabin. Sérolène was very reluctant to answer it herself, fearful of seeing the leering visage of Lacombe. She prompted Madame Tarnaut to answer, moving to stand behind the door so that she would be as much out of view as possible of whomever it was that knocked. Madame Tarnaut opened the door no more than was necessary for a single eye to peer suspiciously out. She immediately recognized the dark eye that stared back at her, it’s owner surprised to encounter her unsmiling countenance.

  “Is there something you require, Monsieur Lacombe?” she asked sternly, narrowing her eyes in scrutiny as he peered behind her, searching in vain for the vicomtesse.

  “No, Madame. Just wanted to ensure your safety, and that of the young monsieur,” Lacombe said with oily menace.

  “Thank you for your consideration, and good night!” Madame Tarnaut said, shutting the door firmly, then pushing the bolt across to ensure the security of the small enclosure. Sérolène mouthed a silent word of thanks to her governess before again returning to her position at the side of Nicolas’ berth.

  “Oh, how he frightens me! I don’t know what it is, but there’s something about him that’s quite sinister,” Sérolène declared.

  “The way he looks at you has not escaped my attention, or the notice of others. I’ve heard the marquis will have him dismissed as soon as we reach port,” Madame Tarnaut replied.

  “I’m glad of it. How much more secure I shall feel once my dear chevalier has returned to health,” Sérolène said. Madame Tarnaut nodded in agreement.

  “That intrepid soul will not brook such insolent behavior, I’ll wager you that. Monsieur Lacombe had best learn to temper his address and his conduct, if he means to keep that wicked head on his shoulders,” Madame Tarnaut proclaimed with certainty.

  Lacombe slunk stealthily away from the door of the cabin, having heard quite enough. So she’s sweet on the little shit, is she? Maybe I’ll show her what it’s like to have a taste of a real man before I fly the coop with my loot. We’ll be near the French coast soon, then it will be time to put the last of my plan into effect. Just a few more weeks of pretending, until there’s land in sight, then the Devil give me a moonless night and a bit of mist, and I’ll slip away into the darkness a very rich man, he mused to himself as he slunk off.

  It was well after midnight before the first boats of returning guests began to make their way back to the Belle Héloïse, Julienne and Francis returning first with Éléonore and some of the maids. Éléonore was packed off quickly to bed while Julienne and Francis went to retrieve Sérolène and check on the condition of Nicolas. Finding the door to his cabin securely locked, Francis announced himself, hearing the bolt slide back a moment later as Madame Tarnaut opened the door to greet them. The vicomtesse had fallen asleep sitting upright, her head partially against Nicolas’ chest. Julienne placed her arms around her cousine, helping her to stand.

  “I bid you good night, my dear vicomtesse. How I look forward to the day when we will perhaps share a name as well as a point of affection in common,” Francis said with sincere admiration, thanking Sérolène for her devoted service. Julienne escorted Sérolène back to their cabin, the maids helping them remove their dresses and corsets before attending to their respective toilettes as everyone prepared for bed.

  “You really are quite something, you know,” Julienne declared to her cousine as the maids brushed their hair.

  “Yes. I quite believe I am!” Sérolène agreed with a yawn, bursting out in laughter with Julienne as they had done so often when they were young children together.

  “At least now I have him near me so I can take proper care of him. You don’t know how relieved I am that he’s no longer separated from me…and everyone,” Sérolène said.

  “He’s very lucky to have you, Lena. I mean that,” Julienne said sincerely. Sérolène turned her head slightly to look over at her cousine, the long flowing strokes of the maid’s rhythmic brushing, tugging her head back in gentle rhythm.

  “We’re lucky to have each other. That’s the real truth, I think. We somehow were meant to be joined together. With him I feel as if anything is possible…and the impossible is only difficult… like changing his old bandages,” she said, smiling at Julienne.

  “How awful!” Julienne replied, scrunching up her nose as they both laughed again.

  “I know. Even now I can’t really believe I did it, but it needed doing at the time, and badly so,” Sérolène said.

  “So you found the strength to do what needed to be done,” Julienne said.

  “Yes,” Sérolène agreed.

  “Your children will be lions, my dear. You’re going to have your hands full, I fear. God bless you with many sons, for if your daughters are anything like their mother…” Julienne trailed off teasingly, her eyebrows raised, prompting another bout of giggles as she climbed into the small shared berth after Sérolène. The maid put out the last candle, her bed laid out on the floor beneath them. Sérolène wrapped her cousine’s arms around her waist, grateful for the warmth and touched by the sentiment.

  “Perhaps you’re right on that account, but I know that it will be the joy of my life to be so wonderfully occupied. You must help convince him to marry me first, though,” Sérolène said.

  “Pshaw! That fish is already in the barrel. Save your endearing eyes for Papa. He’s the one you’ll have to convince,” Julienne declared.

  “It’s Auntie that worries me! I don’t think she’ll ever think him good enough. Besides, endearing eyes don’t seem to work on her,” Sérolène
observed.

  “No, but pouting does…you need to practice that more, you were never particularly good at it, you know,” Julienne said with a giggle.

  “Let’s start tomorrow! You show me how to pout and I’ll help you with the endearing eyes!” Sérolène suggested.

  “Done!” Julienne exclaimed with a laugh as they drifted off to sleep in a fit of giggles.

  XIV. A Settling of Accounts

  The next stage of the journey was pleasantly uneventful, the days passing lazily into weeks. The weather was generally fine, with rainstorms enough to replenish the fresh water supplies, allowing for the welcome luxury of some water to be used for bathing. The convoy sailed on without coming in sight of another hostile sail. In contrast to the general feeling of boredom this had previously engendered in everyone, both passengers and crew were grateful that they had no more to contend with than the unchanging routine of their own habits and work requirements.

  In the company of family, and with Sérolène an ever-present nurse and companion, Nicolas recovered steadily, his wound giving him less trouble each day. With Nicolas now restored to her, Sérolène felt herself freed from the bothersome scrutiny of Lacombe at last. For the first time since they had begun their journey, she felt truly relaxed and carefree, able to walk the decks as she pleased without having to be constantly on her guard in order to avoid an unwanted encounter with the troublesome officer. Her main concern now was to aid Nicolas in his recovery and to plan out their day so that she could spend as much secluded time with him as possible within the very public confines of the ship. They often took walks together very early in the day to watch the sun rise in each other’s company, relishing this small degree of public privacy. While they were thus pleasantly occupied together, Julienne would avail herself of the opportunity to descend to her husband’s cabin, where she and the Comte de Marbéville exercised themselves as well in the happy pursuit of attempting to produce more heirs for the clan of Montferraud.

  Nicolas and Sérolène were often accompanied on their walks by the Baron and Baronne de Salvagnac, the latter making a concerted effort to improve her relations with him. Though he would like to have thought that the attention derived solely from their desire to become better acquainted with the man secretly betrothed to their niece, he was not such a naïf as to believe the consideration showered on him by the vice-amiral and others had nothing to do with his newfound popularity. His experiences both in St. Domingue and on board the Fantassin had taught him the powerful lure and impact of glory on the French psyche. A leap and a tangle of horses had begun his reputation, garnering the notice of powerful individuals whose sense of honor now placed them in his debt. His bravery aboard the Fantassin had further enhanced the luster of his glory, which was evident in the deference shown him by the crew and most of its passengers.

  There were those, however, who resented the attention paid to Nicolas and secretly hoped that his fame might be rendered into misfortune. The Baron de Ginestas and Madame Dupluie were the leaders of this clandestine faction, whispering and intriguing against Nicolas whenever they could. They found a ready partner in Lacombe, who made his dislike for Nicolas plain amongst the few onboard that he could claim as confidantes. Because of the vast social gulf that separated them, Nicolas had no need to concern himself with the opinions or the society of Madame Dupluie or Lacombe. Only the Baron de Ginestas presented problems with regard to the maintenance of the necessary forms of social decorum, due to his noble rank. Though neither Ginestas nor Nicolas had forgotten the circumstances of their last encounter, they both did their best to maintain a proper veneer of civility between them; trapped as they both were in close proximity aboard ship.

  While Nicolas fully expected the sullen behavior of Ginestas and Madame Dupluie, he was very much surprised by the degree of warmth shown to him by Mademoiselle Virginie Dupluie, who appeared at times to seek him out, despite the warning looks of her mother. She was even so bold one rainy morning when no one else appeared to join him in his exercise, to speak to him, taking him completely by surprise.

  “Good morning, Monsieur le Chevalier; might I accompany you on your rounds?” Virginie asked timidly. Nicolas paused, considering her invitation with a great degree of reticence.

  “Of course, Mademoiselle,” he replied, eventually accepting only in order to avoid the appearance of offering insult by a refusal. He was, however, secretly grateful for the rain which allowed him to use his single good arm to hold a parasol over the head of Mademoiselle Dupluie instead of having to offer her his arm in escort.

  “Did you know, Monsieur, that I was there in Cap François on that famous day when you saved everyone?” Virginie began as they walked along side by side.

  “No, Mademoiselle, I did not,” Nicolas admitted.

  “I remember the moment so vividly. I was so sure that everyone must be run down and trampled. I closed my eyes and prayed to God to deliver a miracle to save them -- and then you appeared from nowhere, Monsieur, the answer to my prayers,” she said, her deep brown eyes regarding him with sincere admiration. Nicolas felt acutely embarrassed, thinking her praise generous but decidedly overmuch.

  “Surely I did only what anyone else would have done?” he replied modestly. She smiled indulgently and he recalled the face of her mother, on whose visage he’d seen the same look with altogether different and more sinister effect.

  “Your modesty does you credit, Monsieur, but even you must acknowledge, as everyone else has, that your actions and your selflessness were anything but ordinary,” she countered. Her words, though kind, served only to make him feel all the more uncomfortable, and he began to think of an excuse to end his walk early so that he could be free of her company. A long silence ensued between them.

  “I hope my words cause you no discomfort, Monsieur. I know everyone thinks me plain and uninteresting. I’m not sure if it’s me they really dislike, or rather the sensibilities of my mother…or lack of them I should say,” Virginie said with surprising candor. Nicolas was shocked enough at the frankness of her admission that he stopped walking altogether, leaving Virginie standing for several seconds in the open rain as he looked at her with unconcealed surprise.

  “I assure you, Mademoiselle, if you allowed the true nature of your character to be known to everyone, they could not help but be filled with admiration for you…as I am,” he said kindly. She looked at him only briefly, as if to ascertain whether he made sport of her. Satisfied that he was indeed sincere, she accepted his compliment with a silent nod, carefully considering her reply.

  “We are not all as brave or as bold as those we admire. Perhaps, Monsieur, when the only thing one hears constantly is how little merit one possesses, and when the penury of one’s condition shows so plainly, one cannot help but believe that it must be so,” she said with emotion, pointing to the almost threadbare appearance of the shawl she wore to cover her shoulders against the elements.

  “I believe, Mademoiselle, that we must not be limited by perceptions of what we are. We must become what we choose to make of ourselves. I see in you, Mademoiselle, if you will permit me to be so bold as to say so, an honesty and firmness of character that is admirable. I encourage you to have the strength to be yourself and the faith that should you choose to do so, those that truly esteem you will not fail to support you in your endeavors,” he said as they returned to their walk.

  “Virginie!” a voice called out with a shout. Virginie turned, having recognized at once the shrill disapproving cry of her mother, who had come up on deck in search of her and was appalled to see the company she was keeping.

  “Come away immediately! Do you hear?” Madame Dupluie commanded, standing under the cover of the stairway. Virginie moved straightaway to obey, Nicolas boldly escorting her toward her mother so that she would remain dry under the parasol he carried, Virginie seeming to welcome the proximity of his support.

  “I hope, Monsieur, that despite the sentiments of my mother, you will do me the honor of regarding me
as your friend, as I ever shall regard you as mine. I shall look forward to hearing of your great deeds in future, Monsieur d’Argentolle. I have no doubt that there will be many more to come,” she said softly. Nicolas nodded, again surprised at having found a most unexpected ally. He bowed low to her, allowing her to separate from his company as she came within earshot of the stairs that would take her below decks.

  “Madame,” Nicolas said, bowing again to acknowledge her mother, who merely glared at him before stomping off with her daughter in tow.

  Madame Dupluie, however, was not the only one to have observed and disapproved of Nicolas’ brief walk with Virginie. Lacombe had also taken note of the unusual company Virginie was keeping. He had spent considerable time in cultivating the amity of the shy and awkward young lady for his own ends, regarding the plain and friendless young woman as easy prey for his attentions. So you want to meddle with my plump little fish, do you? As you please, my fine young knight…for I’ll more than meddle with yours, Lacombe said to himself, watching Nicolas closely from behind the wheelhouse. I was going to take the Dupluie girl as my hostage, but perhaps your pretty vicomtesse will go in her place. He chuckled to himself, feeling himself stiffen as he imagined the delicious sounds of Sérolène’s screams as he ravished her. If she pleases me well enough, I might not even kill her -- at least not for a while, he mused, snickering vilely.