She turned back into the room when maids came carrying hot water, which they poured into the large tub. The lady of the house returned as well, carrying a dress with light green stripes.
“This should fit you, my dear. It belonged to my daughter. She is married now. You will forgive that it is a few seasons late.”
“Of course, it is most kind of you,” Virginie said. They really were kind. She could see genuine concern in the woman’s eyes. It made a change from the anger and bitterness she had seen in people eyes lately. Kindness, that was how the world should be and how people she act toward each other.
“It is so sad what is happening over in France. It is unspeakable. We’ve had so many families come through town over the last year, in such wretched states. Travelling alone, you must have been so scared.” Virginie wanted to repeat that she hadn’t been alone, but she also felt that this woman might think worse of her if she mentioned she had been travelling with a man who wasn’t her relative. She hated that she had to hide Tomas and everything he had done for her, but if he wasn’t going to stay with her, she needed to keep the good opinion of the people who were trying to help her. “Never mind, you are here now. You will of course be exhausted from your trials. I will have Humford bring you supper here. We will see how you are feeling tomorrow.”
Virginie thanked the woman again for her generosity and was soon left to bathe in private. A shift had been left for her. It was white and clean. Virginie drew in the fresh scent of it. All these things that felt normal, a warm bath, clean clothes and a lovely bedroom. They were a world away from her experiences with Tomas, but he had also grown familiar to her and his absence felt stark.
The bath was warm and she tried to let the heat sooth her. It was difficult to let go of the fear she had been living with. It would not let go of its grip easily as if it had become second nature to her.
Tomas made his way back to the docks. He had no money to spend on a bed for the night. He didn’t even have money for a pint of ale and he was too proud to beg for it. It was late and the streets were getting dark. He would have to sleep roughly that night, find some quiet alley to claim for himself. He would run the risk of getting robbed, but he had nothing to rob other than his blade, and he would not be parting with that.
He felt uncomfortable and nothing he did would alleviate it. He kept seeing the plea in Virginie’s eyes beseeching him to stay. Didn’t she understand that she was better off this way. He had no choice, he had to leave her. It had always been the plan and she needed to be delivered her to her family. The English Crown would be much better at doing that than he was. He was completely out of means. The only thing he could provide was some stolen bread from one of the bakers in town. He was sure she was warm and safe somewhere, with her own kind.
Virginie made him wish his situation was different, but she also highlighted the plain truth in it. He had no means. He was nothing and that is what he would always be. He might have gained her regard through her desperation and fear, but those dire circumstances were gone now and she would turn her regard to more worthy directions before long. He didn’t think he could bear to see contempt in her eyes. He’d seen it before when he was young; it had driven him away from his home and his life in search for one where he was more than a nuisance and a source of wry amusement for others. Nothing he did or achieved would ever make up for his birth.
The fact that the English Crown refused their assistance to him didn’t surprise him, but it still burned. He’d worked hard to not let hatred consume him and he wasn’t going to let this fresh slight do it either. None of these people mattered, he assured himself. Optimal breeding was not the definition of good people. He had learnt that it was an innate attribute that could be found in the lowest street urchin to the most high-born, cosseted girl.
He found a discarded potatoes sack which he would use as a blanket. His luck held that night and he found some straw to keep him warm and off the ground. It stank, but it only confirmed that he’d made the right decision leaving Virginie at the Town Hall.
He would find some work in the morning; offer his services down at the docks. If he kept trying, perhaps he would find somewhere that appreciated his writing skills and paid a bit more. Either way, he would sleep more comfortably at night once he secured some kind of income.
Travelling to Italy wouldn’t be hard, he would just work as crew on one of the ships, then jump ship when he arrived in Italy. He wasn’t going to go just yet. He wanted to make sure that Virginie was alright, that her circumstances were decent enough. He knew the name of her family and their county; it wouldn’t prove difficult to find them. He just needed to know before he left for good.
Chapter 13
Virginie arrived at her family’s estate on a cold and rainy afternoon. Their house was modest in comparison to the Aubesvines estate, a square looking white washed building with plenty of windows. She had learnt that the English preferences in architecture were very different from the French. It wasn’t ugly, just more restrained somehow, while the people seemed slightly less so. She quite liked it.
The entire household and the staff were lined up in front of the house when she arrived. She departed the carriage and a woman approached her.
“Mademoiselle Durmont, we are so delighted to welcome you,” she said in French. Virginie almost wilted with relief, she had been twisting her borrowed gloves into knots worrying that they would only speak English. “I am your uncle’s wife, Mavis. This is your uncle, Charles, and our daughter, Sarah.” They all bowed or curtsied, which Virginie promptly returned. They seemed nice. They looked nice. Her uncle had a comforting look about him. He was older than his wife, with wheat colored hair around his balding scalp. He only wore his waistcoat.
“Inside,” he said. “Or we will catch our deaths out here.” He turned to walk into the house, while his wife fell into step with him. Virginie was left with the daughter, Sarah.
“I am so glad you are here. It shall have a diverting time, I am sure. I am engaged to be married,” she said. Virginie could see the pride she took in her engagement. “His name in Simon. He is lovely. I am sure you will meet him shortly, he will come to call.”
They walked in the house and they had been waiting for her before they could start their meal. Virginie felt bad for a moment, making them wait for her arrival, but they didn’t seem bothered. Virginie was hungry, but no famished. She could make a distinction between those two states now. The Asherworth’s had provisioned her well for the trip with a basket containing more choice than she needed. She was a bit disconcerted seeing all that food for one person. She wished Tomas had been there with her to share its bounty. She also knew that he would disapprove of the excess. Virginie noted his perspective, but just for the moment, a little excess felt wonderful.
Virginie watched her uncle as he said the prayers ahead of the meal. She watched him and tried to see her mother’s traits in this man who had known her so well. She could only make out a few words of the prayer. She was sure her English would improve rapidly now that she was in England.
When the prayer was over, they commenced eating and Virginie joined them. She looked around the room realizing that this was the house that her mother had grown up in. She must have eaten in this very room, maybe even sat in the same chair. It was hard to image this elusive figure in Virginie’s mind as a real flesh and blood girl sitting in this room. She had so many questions she could now have answered. Her uncle would have known more about her than anyone else alive, perhaps even more than her father. Hopefully her uncle would be much more willing to talk about it.
Sarah was watching her and she smiled whenever Virginie made eye contact with her. Virginie could feel her curiosity.
“You are very pretty,” Mavis said. “It is such a shame about your hair.”
“It was necessary,” Virginie said. She could see Mavis mentally shiver with the thought. Virginie wasn’t sure whether it was the haircut or the revolution that distressed her.
S
he was shown to her room after supper and left to retire. The journey had been long and her body felt further bruised by it. Not to mention the physical bruises all over her body. It was novel to think she wouldn’t be travelling any further for a while and that she could stay and recuperate in this quiet country house. They would take some time to heal, but would eventually fade away to be forgotten. She wasn’t sure that the things she experienced would ever be forgotten, she was pretty certain that Tomas never would be. He would always be her savior.
She thought about him constantly, wondering where he was. She knew he would be alright somewhere. He was so capable of surviving, she had no doubt that he was faring sufficiently well. She just wanted to see him again. It felt like she was constantly missing something, like she wasn’t quite whole on her own.
The Tunnucks wasted no time introducing her to their acquaintances in the county. Virgine was trying to keep track of the blur of faces. One English phrase that hadn’t escaped her notice was ‘ready for marriage’. Mavis Tunnuck stated it clearly to every person they met. It was obvious that it was a task that Mavis was going to take on. She had already stated that they would be attending the Season in the New Year. The marriage prospecting that hadn’t quite eventuated in Paris was now to be reinstated in London. Virginie didn’t know how she felt about it. It was the culmination of her life, the purpose for which she had been working toward, but it was an awkward feeling.
Quite a few people spoke French and seemed to enjoy speaking with her. Apparently her mother’s marriage to a French Marquis had been quite a stir in the district and many still remembered it.
She was also introduced to Harold, who was of marriageable age. He was tall and slim with yellow blond hair. His chin was a little weak, but he had lovely blue eyes. Mavis introduced him and his mother at a party they were attending.
Virginie was wearing Sarah’s clothes and had been doing so since she arrived. They had some dresses on order but they weren’t ready yet. Virginie felt a little uncomfortable with the expense that was being lavished on her, but Mavis wouldn’t hear anything of it. Mavis was planning her coming out like a military campaign, and Virginie guessed that Mavis really enjoyed it. With her daughter engaged, she no longer had a driving purpose until Virginie came along. Mavis happily dodged her retirement to focus on getting Virginie a husband.
Virginie knew that all was as it should be, but she still wanted things to slow down. She didn’t feel like she’d had time to think. They were doing something every day, and Virginie suspected that it would only become worse once they arrived in London after Christmas. She hadn’t even had time to consider whether she would like living in England. If the Tunnucks married her off to an Englishman, that would be her fate even if things calmed down in France.
There were some things she really liked about England, but she hadn’t been here long enough to feel ready to determine the rest of her life. She wished she could talk to Tomas about it. She just wanted to know where he was. She was sure the English would be relatively more accepting of his background. He could have better life here than in France, mostly likely better than Italy at any rate.
She watched for him constantly. Everywhere they went, she kept an eye out for him. She knew there was a bond between them, a bond that would never be completely broken. Perhaps, she thought, when you trusted someone so completely, an unbreakable bond occurs. That was how she felt. No matter what happened, Tomas would always be meaningful to her. He must feel the same way, she thought.
The cold intensified, it was getting more wintery every day. The idea of a husband to snuggle into in such weather was appealing. Although when she saw herself snuggling into someone in her mind’s eye, it was always Tomas. She could almost smell him when she closed her eyes.
“You are not unwell are you?” Mavis asked as they were on their way to yet another event. Virginie had never been this socially active, even when things were normal in France. “We have such a fun evening planned. There will be cards and dancing, I am sure. Harold will be there, I am told,” Mavis said coyly. Mavis was promoting the match. Virginie suspected that Mavis knew all of Harold’s movements for the next few months, and they would be attending events where he would be present. He was a nice enough man. He had good breeding, a fair estate that would come his way and an interest in politics.
Virginie’s uncle was more of a quiet type she discovered. He stayed in his study or occasionally went out shooting. She hadn’t found out as much about her mother as she wanted to.
“Sarah’s Simon will be there tonight,” Mavis went on. “This will be the first time you meet him. He is so handsome.” Sarah did look quietly excited about the evening. Virginie suspected that Sarah truly did care about the man that she was going to marry. “I rue the day that he will carry her away because we will lose our precious girl, but then there are always grandchildren to make up for these losses.” The idea of grandchildren seemed very exciting to Mavis.
Mavis continued chatting throughout their carriage ride. Her husband rarely seemed to participate in the conversation, and Virginie suspected that Mavis preferred it that way.
A man stepped toward the carriage when they arrive in front of a large house. He was handsome, with dark blond hair and a military uniform. Virginie felt her breath hitch as the sight of the uniform. She knew in her mind that she was safe, but sometimes, certain things like seeing a man in uniform made her panic before she had a chance to think through the situation. He wore a dark blue coat with a white waist coat, as did the man standing beside him.
He opened the carriage and offered a hand to Mavis as he helped her out of the carriage.
“We are so pleased to see you, Simon. Sarah has been waiting all day.” Mavis spoke in English. Virginie wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she just started understanding more and more of what they were saying. It was only the more unusual words that escaped her now. She didn’t feel terribly comfortable speaking as putting sentences together was more fraught than just listening.
“As have I,” he said and offered a hand to Virginie as Sarah was sitting on the other side. Mavis hadn’t exaggerated, he really was handsome.
“And who is your friend?” Mavis wondered. Virginie could almost see Mavis mind working as she assessed the man next to him.
“This is my friend, Lieutenant Morecomb,” he said. The man bowed. He was a tall man with light brown curls on top of his head and a very attractive smile, the kind of smile that suggested that he might have a wicked sense of humor. On the whole, Lieutenant Morecomb was an attractive man.
“This is our niece, Virginie Durmont,” Mavis said. Virginie curtsied as she was introduced. “She is the daughter of the Marquis de Durmont. A very old French family.” Mavis liked introducing Virginie, she said her credentials with gravity to ensure the audience was impressed.
The two men bowed sharply, then they exchanged pleasantries with Uncle Charles.
“Shall we go inside?” Simon suggested. He was arm in arm with Sarah and they spoke quietly to each other as they walked up the wide stairs to the entrance of the house. It had great big columns of a light sand colored stone, with large windows throughout the façade.
“This is the house that Sarah will live in when the time comes,” Mavis whispered to her as they walked up the stairs to the entrance way. “Isn’t it stately?”
“Very nice. She has secured a good match,” Virginie said and she could see the pride in Mavis eyes.
“Now, Lieutenant Morecomb is an interesting man, is he not?” Mavis said as she was considering him intently. “I will find out what his prospects are.” Mavis had her mission for the evening, it seemed.
There were quite a few people there already. They never seemed to arrive early to these events, something Virginie suspected that Mavis planned in great detail. Mavis saw someone across the large ball room that she wanted to talk to so she excused herself by patting Virginie on the arm.
“I understand you are a recent arrival to our fair shore
s,” Lieutenant Morecomb said, taking her slightly by surprised as he appeared at her side. He spoke French, which was a relief for Virginie. He spoke quiet fluently too and Virginie wondered if he had spent some time there in the past.
“A few weeks,” she replied. She liked his voice, it was deep and clear.
“I hope you did not encounter troubles on your way. I understand the situation is deteriorating.”
“There were some dangers on the way, but they are in the past now.” She didn’t want to talk about it; she didn’t want to discuss the experiences she shared with Tomas with anyone. They seemed to belong to just the two of them.
“I am sorry all the same,” he said. Virginie accepted his sentiment graciously.
“What part of the military are you from?” she asked. It might be obvious to everyone, but she didn’t know what kind of uniform he wore.
“The Navy,” he said. “Simon and I went got our commissions at roughly the same time. As a result, we had to get the same training and are now good friends. Well enough friends for him to invited me to come meet his bride.”
“They do seem to like each other a great deal.”
“I believe so. He is a lucky man.”
“Are you from this part of the country?” she asked him.
“No, I am from the south, near Rochester.” Virginie had no idea where that was.
“I have seen very little knowledge of England outside of Heresfordshire,” she said.
“Then you must see Rochester,” he said. “It is a beautiful town, worth the visit. You must allow me to show you around our fair town at some point.”
“Perhaps one day, I will get the chance to explore more of England.”
He asked her to dance and she agreed. She could well imagine the harsh looks from Mavis if she refused. He led her onto the dance area where other pairs were dancing. She didn’t know what the dance was called, but the steps were fairly easy. She’d had extensive training in dancing from her tutors, so picking up the steps was not difficult. It also gave her a change to see Lieutenant Morecomb more directly. His attractiveness had not diminished after their conversation together. She would also feel Mavis watching them, thinking that this might be a match that was to be encouraged.
An Unlikely Savior Page 14
