“I will have to learn to speak English.”
“It is odd that you were never taught considering your family is English.”
“I was taught German and Italian, but not English. I suspect my father feared that my English family would try to claim me somehow.”
“An irrational fear considering his position. My father could be irrational sometimes. Once he got something in his head, it was impossible to change it.”
“I suppose I will have to start wearing a corset again,” she continued after a while. “I have quite gotten used to being without one.” Tomas had nothing to add to this conversation, so he leaned back against the wall and just watched her. The ordeal had not damped her charm or her beauty. Her eyes were large and bright, and they had mirth in them whenever she looked at him. He wanted to remember her this way. She continued talking about all the reasons why she despised corsets, how her life had been much worse since the day Madam Muire, her dressmaker, had presented her with a corset. Her father had apparently left all feminine discussions in the hands of this woman.
There was another knock on their door a short time later.
“We will be in port in an hour,” a boy’s voice said.
Tomas looked back at Virginie, who seemed to have lost the relaxed countenance, being replaced by a more tense one. He was well familiar with this countenance in her. She was scared. He wished he could reassure her, but he didn’t have any idea of what lay ahead.
They finished what was left on the wine and waited. They could hear activity over their heads as the crew were preparing for reaching their destination. Tomas could tell that it was still light out from the small porthole above their heads. It was no bigger than his fist, but it did let some light into the small cabin.
Chapter 12
Virginie followed Tomas onto the deck of the ship. They were still not in port, but they could see it ahead of them. The Captain was trying to navigate between the ships coming and going from the very busy port. There were so many ships in this part of the water, there couldn’t be that must space between them. Virginie could see a hive of activity ahead. There were people unloading ships, lifting pallets high in the air, jostling of carts and horses to carry the things coming off the ships to where it needed to go.
The dark city behind the port. All the buildings were unnaturally dark occasionally dispersed by a whitewashed building. There was smoke and soot rising from every chimney in the city, making a plume of dark air above the city. She knew that Paris was the same, particularly in winter when people burnt wood and coal to keep warm and to help the city go about its business. She could see church spires and rooftops as far as her eye could see. It was strange seeing her mother’s country for the first time. She wasn’t sure whether she felt any affinity for it. It was late in the day and the sun was low. She wasn’t sure how long it would be until dark.
“I believe we have an agreement to conclude,” a voice said behind them. Virginie turned to see the Captain speaking. Tomas pulled out a pouch and handed it to the man, who tested its weight with his hand. He then nodded.
“There is an office that assists with French émigrés. It is over there,” he said pointing toward what looked like the centre town. Virginie assumed he meant the large grey building with large columns, although there was a similar looking official building close by it. “You will have to record your arrival. What happens after, I don’t know.”
Virginie turned to look back at the building. She felt better having some idea of what to do. Now they just had to stand by and wait for the ship to reach the port. She watched as the crew did their work, getting the ship close enough without ramming the dock. There were people waiting at the dock. Horses waiting to work cranes, while men stood ready to tie in and to lift a plank way over to the ship.
Tomas urged her over to the plank way when it was in place. They were the first off the ship. A man nodded his cap to her as she stepped off. There wasn’t much talking between the men, everyone seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to do and there was a burst of activity as everyone started moving at once.
They walked along the port dodging carts, people and dangling loads either coming on or off ships. The ships were lined up along every available space along the edge of the dock. It was scary and fascinating, there was so much activity in such a small place. Virginie had never seen anything like it. She thought Paris was a hive of activity, but it didn’t compare to this. Then again, she had never seen a port before, perhaps they were all like this.
They moved away from the port. Virginie recognized that they were walking toward the building that the Captain had indicated. The streets were narrow and cobbled. There were people everywhere. Things smelled very different in England. There was a smell of fish everywhere and everyone seemed to be running. People spoke so fast she couldn’t make out what they were saying with her limited English.
The English looked different. Their dress was also different. She spotted some wealthier ladies and noted the fashion. It was more modest from her own wardrobe, although no one would likely ever believe her extensive and fine wardrobe looking at her now. Then again, she didn’t actually have a wardrobe now. She’d come to doubt she’d ever be reunified with it, but who knew how things would turn out.
They had to give way to two gentlemen on horseback, stepping in some muck while they did so.
“Oh just wonderful,” she said as she tried to scrape her shoe along to get the muck off. She didn’t want her first introduction to the English being accompanied by a pervasive smell of manure. She was nervous about making a good impression. In this garb, she was on the back foot as it was.
They finally reached a square that faced the large grey building they had seen from the ship. She realized that they were likely white under the layer of grime and soot. It would have been a magnificent looking building if it was clean and white. Virginie noticed the chill in the air as they stood and looked at the façade of the building. She turned to Tomas who looked back at her. He shrugged before stepping onto the street surrounding the square. There was no organisation to the traffic at all, there were large, moving things coming at them in every direction. It would not do to escape the horrors of the revolution to then be run down in front of the Émigrés’ office.
They walked up the stairs and through the large wooden doors, entering a large cavernous hall made of stone and wood. There was no one there, just a hall leading off it and a large staircase.
Tomas looked around for something to help them, but there was nothing. They walked further into the hall and they could hear the echoes of their steps as they did. Tomas pushed open a door and stepped inside. Virginie followed him into the quiet space.
A man made a ‘hmm’ sound and stood up from behind his desk. Tomas spoke to him in English.
“Upstairs,” the man said in French and returned to his work without any further acknowledgement. They withdrew to the staircase and walked upstairs. There were two doors and they had no idea which one to take. Tomas decided on one and walked toward it.
A clerk greeted them inside. “Emigres?” he asked.
“Yes,” Tomas responded. The man shuffled some papers then stood up. He reached over and grabbed a heavy leather bound book, and a dipped his quill in ink.
“And what are your names?”
“This is Virginie Durmont,” Tomas said. The man apparently wrote her name in the book, checked the time on the large clock along the wall and continued writing.
“What ship did you arrive on?”
“I believed it was called Anette,” Tomas said. The man continued writing.
“And where did you embark?”
“Nantes.”
“Oh right,” the man said. “The port is still open? It seems it is much harder to get through the ports closer to the channels.”
“We embarked away from the port.”
“I see,” the man said. “Well, I am sorry to hear that. Now, Durmont,” he said grabbing another large book wit
h a green cover. He fingered through the tome. “Here we are, Durmont. You are related to the Marquis?”
“Yes, he was my father. My mother is English, her uncle is Sir Charles Tunnuck from Heresfordshire.”
“Ah, you are British. That is good; we can extend you some assistance in your time of need.”
“She needs to be reunited with her family,” Tomas said and the man nodded.
“Very well,” the man said and continued writing in the other book. “Now you,” he said nodding toward Tomas.
“Tomas Sanbonne.” The man went to look through the green book. “You won’t find my family name in there.”
“I see,” the man said and put down his pen. “I am afraid that we will not be able to assist you, Monsieur Sanbonne, but I am sure you can find employment until such time as you can return to France. We have extensive dock yard infrastructure, they are always in need of men. I am sure things will settle down in France before long.” He closed both of his books and got up. “As for you Mademoiselle Durmont, we will assist your travel to Heresfordshire. I am assuming that your means are limited and the crown has made the resources of this office available to you.” He looked her up and down, noting the state and quality of her dress. “If you would come this way.”
“You’ve misunderstood. Tomas is the brother of the Marquis de Aubesvine. Tell him Tomas,” Virginie pleaded. The English crown was only helping aristocrats, not others like Tomas as his family name was not listed in the green book they used for reference. His illegitimacy meant they would not accept his association with the Aubesvines. Virginie wanted the man to open his book again. They couldn’t be separated now. This was not right, it was unfair. They had to help Tomas. Instead they were just going to turn him into the streets. “Tomas, tell him your Etienne’s brother. He accepts you as such,” she pleaded.
Tomas turned to her, his face was expressionless and hard. “You need to go with this man,” Tomas said trying to reassure her. “He will take you to your family.”
“But you have to come too,” she responded feeling desperate and close to tears. “My family will welcome you, I am sure of it.” She grabbed his arms, trying to make him see reason. She tried to think of something that would make him change his mind. She didn’t want to be here alone. “You must come. I can’t do this without you.”
“They are your family, Virginie. They will take care of you, see to your future. I can’t do any of those things. We need to part now.”
“No, promise you will come,” she pleaded. She couldn’t quite conceive of walking away with this stranger.
“I have brought you to safety, you must continue now and I must seek Etienne,” he tried to walk away from her, but she held him there.
“I can come with you; we can travel to Italy together.”
“No Virginie, we are out of funds, I can’t travel like we have been, and it means I can’t take you with me. Besides, you need to be under the protection of your family. I offer you none and you won’t have a future if you stay with me.”
“I don’t care,” she said and she didn’t, she wanted to be with him. The consequences weren’t important. He moved closer to her and brought her into an embrace. She melted into his body, seeking comfort.
“I have done enough damage,” he said quietly. “We must part to ensure that there isn’t any more. There can’t be any more, do you understand? I am not sure I can forgive myself for what I have done.”
“There is nothing to forgive.”
“Yes there is and the fact that you cannot see that only makes this more important. I have to go.” He firmly moved his arms away. Nodded to the man and turned away. Virginie called after him, staring at the door after he’d gone, hoping to see him come back. She felt the emptiness sharply. She felt like half of her had been ripped away.
“This way,” the man said, indicating toward a door. “We will find a bed for you tonight. It is late and we must hurry.”
Virginie still couldn’t believe that Tomas was gone. She had depended on his strength utterly and completely and now he wasn’t there. He’d come to mean everything to her and she just couldn’t get her mind around this parting. It happened so fast. She wanted to run after him, but she knew that he would not accept it.
Maybe he would change his mind. She could beseech her family to accept him. On the other hand, realistically, he was an unmarried male that wasn’t related to her and a mere bastard brother of her father’s friend. There would be no reason why they would. They would only see a man who had helped her escape, an unacceptable companion who could only be tolerated due to the extreme nature of the situation. She knew that their association would not be encouraged.
Virginie wrapped her arms around her and walked with the man to wherever he was leading her. He stopped at a desk and wrote a note, rang a bell and they waited for a young boy to come for the note.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. She shook her head. “Some tea then,” he said and rang the bell again. It took a moment, before a man brought them a tray, a tea service with silver and porcelain. The man poured the tea as they sat down on a small table next to the window. Virginie could see the sunset outside. She instinctively looked for Tomas, but she couldn’t see him in the busy streets below.
“Have you been to England before?”
“No,” she said with a weak smile. This man was being kind to her and she needed to be polite, even if she wanted to rant at him for not assisting Tomas. She recognized the prejudice against Tomas due to his birth.
The man talked at some length about the notable people who had travelled through there over the last year. Virginie only half listened; she was still suffering the hurt and loneliness of being left behind by Tomas.
Before long a note came for the man, whose name she hadn’t remembered.
“Ah,” he said. “We have a benefactor for you until you can travel northwards. Lord Asherworth has agreed to take you in. He is opening his home to you. His wife will see that you are sufficiently chaperoned while you are here. An excellent outcome. We should go.”
Virginie followed the man as she took her downstairs and to a carriage that was waiting for them just down the large staircase leading from the grey building. He stood aside and waited for her to get in, then informed the driver where she needed to go.
“I will part company with you here, welcome to England, Mademoiselle Durmont.”
“Thank you,” she said. She was still angry with him for turning Tomas away, but she had no right to show it. The man had been gracious in assisting her, sitting with her while they waited. She recognized the manners in his actions. The carriage moved with a start, manoeuvred its way through the streets. It wasn’t a long ride and Virginie watched the buildings as they passed.
The carriage stopped outside a whitewashed house with large windows. It was brightly lit inside and there was a man waiting by the door.
“Mademoiselle Durmont?” the man said as she walked up the steps. He was some kind of Manservant, she could tell by the dress. Not the elaborate and ornate dress French aristocrats liked seeing their servants in, but more muted and sombre.
“Yes,” she responded.
“This way. His Lordship and Lady are waiting inside.” She followed the man into a parlor where a man and a woman sat. They were finely dressed, wearing colorful clothes indicating their station. Virginie was suddenly conscious of her own stolen dress and the drag presentation she made. The couple looked over at her and stood up. The man was thin and tall, with a brown wig complementing the green satin coat, while the red headed woman wore a blue satin gown. They were both older, probably closer to sixty in Virginie’s estimation. The man had a large red nose and his wife had a small round one that went with her round face. They both looked very kind.
“Oh dear,” the woman said with a frown. “You poor, poor thing.” The woman came toward Virginie and brought her into an embrace. It felt very motherly and Virginie suddenly felt like a child again. Having lost her mother, she was very
sensitive to motherly expressions. The couple spoke rapidly in English and Virginie couldn’t keep up. “I am Elenor, Lady Asherworth, and this is my husband Lord Asherworth. We are most pleased to make your acquaintance under these difficult circumstances. We must find something for you to wear,” the woman said in good French. “You must be dead on your feet, poor poppet. We will go upstairs and find you a room.”
“Your assistance is very gracious and I will always be grateful.”
“And you travelled alone. I don’t know how you survived.”
“I did have help,” Virginie said. She wasn’t going to go into any detail about Tomas as it would do nothing to help either of them.
“Still it must have been absolutely horrifying.” Virginie had deliberately not thought about it. She didn’t want to. Maybe at some later date she wanted to explore the horrors that she had experienced, but not now. She just wanted to see the future and to see Tomas again, neither of which were revealing themselves with any clarity.
The woman led her upstairs and down a hall. Their home was sumptuously furnished with rich carpets. Virginie felt instantly at home, recognizing the surroundings as more like what she was used to. These people were not so different from her own. They got to a room and a maid came and joined them. There was a big brass tub standing in the middle of the floor.
“A bath is being prepared for you,” the woman said. Virginie was further conscious that she might smell dreadfully, maybe even of fish and tar. “I will get you a dress,” she said and left Virginie. The room was beautiful. The walls were white with little violets painted on them. A large mahogany four poster bed stood against one wall. Virginie recognized that she would sleep in that bed that night. It would be large and empty.
Virginie looked out the window. She couldn’t help but search for Tomas outside. He was out there somewhere, and he didn’t know where she was. If he changed his mind, he wouldn’t be able to find her. He did roughly know where her family lived though. If he wanted to find her, he could. She hoped he would.
An Unlikely Savior Page 13
