A Lucky Star

by Barbara Cartland

  “There are many interesting shops, Miss Preston,” he answered her gratefully. “And fine cafes. You should really try bouillabaisse while you are there.”

  “That is a local dish, is it not?”

  “Yes, miss, you speak French? It is a kind of hearty fish stew. If you don’t care for garlic and onions, however, you may not find it to your taste.”

  “Oh, I am very fond of them. I have been to France on many occasions and went to Finishing School in Paris. One of the highlights was the wonderful French food.”

  “Then it’s settled. I just happen to know the perfect café tucked away in the back streets that most tourists do not know. And as you speak French, you will have no problem as the staff don’t speak a word of English.”

  “I shall look forward to it – and to using my French again.”

  Midshipman Jones bowed and then turned smartly on his heel and strode off down the deck.

  “Ooh, I think you have an admirer,” teased Linette. “He seemed terribly impressed with the fact that you can speak French!”

  “Nonsense,” replied Anthea. “He is just a very nice young man who was making polite conversation.”

  “You and I are alike, are we not? We do not set great store by romance.”

  “It was not always like that – I was once engaged to be married.”

  Linette sat up, her eyes inquisitive.

  “Really? What happened?”

  “He jilted me. He ran off with some woman he had met in France and they were married before I knew it.”

  “How terrible! You must have been crushed.”

  “Yes, I was. I have not so much as looked at any man since – ”

  Her voice trailed off.

  She felt rather guilty for deceiving Linette. It was not a huge lie, but she also could not deny that the image of her father constantly occupied her thoughts.

  He had awakened something inside her – something tender and frightening at the same time.

  ‘The more I am occupied, the less I will then dwell on this ridiculous infatuation I seem to have fostered,’ she said to herself, as she and Linette packed up their things to go below decks.

  “I am excited about seeing Marseilles,” remarked Linette, as they walked towards their cabin. “It seems like ages since I last felt the earth under my feet, much as I like being at sea, I do long for solid ground.”

  “I could not agree more. I hope, too, that we don’t encounter any more rough seas – all my gowns are feeling loose as I have lost so much weight!”

  An hour later they were both climbing into an open carriage that had been hired for their tour round Marseilles.

  Midshipman Jones helped them into their seats and then sat down opposite Anthea.

  “What a busy Port,” she commented.

  “It seems to get more so each time I visit,” replied Linette. “And the smell!”

  She wrinkled her nose and then Midshipman Jones laughed.

  “All kinds of cargo arrives here in Marseilles – and not all of it fragrant spices or perfumes from Arabia,” he informed them.

  “My Papa much prefers the smell of engine oil and molten steel!” added Linette with a mocking smile. “I am more interested in the lovely perfumes from the South of France. Have you ever visited the jasmine fields of Grasse, Anthea?”

  “No, I have never been this far South, although I hear there are wonderful lavender fields back at home in Norfolk and also in Hertfordshire.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yes. Just outside the town of Hitchin there are many lavender fields. The apothecary in the Town Centre sells all kinds of fragrant products, soaps and the like.”

  “Then, I must endeavour to visit Hitchin,” declared Linette. “I am quite fond of the scent of lavender.”

  “I prefer jasmine, although since I was in mourning for so long I have not really indulged my love of it. I felt it would be disrespectful to Mama to wear scent.”

  “And not so ladylike, either. Papa says only women of dubious character wear perfume – what do you think, Anthea?”

  “I think that your Papa is a little harsh,” she replied, thinking of how her Mama enjoyed Parma Violet perfume.

  Midshipman Jones did his best to entertain his two charges. He showed them around the old part of the town and they visited a few galleries.

  Then, he took them to a café and treated them to the famous bouillabaisse.

  Anthea was thrilled with the atmosphere of the place, with it’s checked tablecloths and tasty, traditional fare brought to them by the proud patron to sample.

  The young waiter who served them took a shine to Linette, but did make it a bit obvious, much to her distress.

  “He is only flirting with you, he means no offence,” soothed Anthea, as she translated a compliment that he had made about Linette.

  “I don’t care for his attentions,” responded Linette, stiffly. She was sitting upright in her chair with an anxious expression.

  “I don’t think he would harm you in any way, my Lady,” interjected Midshipman Jones. “Especially as I am here to look after you.”

  “Papa would not like it!” snapped Linette, looking flustered and frightened.

  The whole table fell silent and Anthea beckoned the patron and conversed with him in French. He was so taken aback that this English lady could speak his language that far from being offended that she had asked him if someone else might wait on the table, he sent them some delicious crème caramels for pudding by way of apology.

  Anthea saw that Linette coloured as she explained to her why he had sent the puddings, but she did not make any comment.

  “Goodness! I really don’t think I could eat another morsel,” sighed Anthea, after she had thanked the patron profusely for his largesse.

  “We must eat every bit otherwise he might be upset with us,” said Linette with a serious expression. She took up her spoon and dipped it into the creamy concoction.

  ‘It’s the little waiter who is upset,’ thought Anthea, as she glanced over to where the sullen young man stood moping behind the small bar, not comprehending what he had done wrong.

  For him, as with many Frenchmen, it was second nature to compliment a beautiful woman.

  Later, after numerous cups of coffee, they left the café, but Anthea could not help but feel a little embarrassed at Linette’s behaviour.

  ‘She is young and naïve about men, it is true. But it almost seems she believes that strangers are out to gain something from her. I wonder what happened to make her so frightened? I was a stranger and she could not have been more charming, so it seems to only be men. Maybe it’s just that the Earl is very strict with her – in the absence of a wife. Linette might be the closest person to him and he does not want to lose her.’

  They climbed back into their carriage and resumed their tour of the town and after a while Midshipman Jones advised that they should return to The Sea Sprite.

  “Oh, but there is still so much we have not seen,” grumbled Linette.

  “I am sorry, my Lady. But as you well know, it is not safe for ladies to be out after dark in Marseilles. And you don’t want to be late for dinner, do you?”

  Although she had eaten a hearty lunch, Linette was fast becoming hungry again.

  “No, and the chef has promised lobster for tonight!”

  In the carriage on the way back Anthea was so busy looking at the sights around her that she did not notice that Midshipman Jones was gazing adoringly at her.

  When they were back on board, he saluted her and then lingered before he took his leave of them.

  Once he was out of earshot, Linette nudged her.

  “He likes you. It’s so obvious!”

  “Be quiet, Linette, you must not talk like that,” replied Anthea colouring.

  “He is so adorable! Like a little puppy with those big blue eyes.”

  “Except puppies don’t have blue eyes,” countered Anthea. “Besides, he is much younger than I am.”

 
“Yes, there is that, I suppose,” answered Linette, as she opened her cabin door. “A man should always be older than his sweetheart, do you not think?”

  “That is usually the way of things.”

  Anthea took the opportunity, as they were on the subject, to raise the matter of Linette’s fear of strange men.

  “Linette, have you never had a sweetheart?” she asked, sitting down on her bed.

  “No. I find the way that most men approach me rather intimidating.”

  “Such as that waiter this afternoon?”

  “Precisely.”

  “But he only wished to flatter you in the way that French men are wont.”

  “I don’t care for such advances,” snapped Linette.

  “But you are an attractive young woman, and have said that you are often called upon to entertain your father’s clients – you must have had one of them flirt with you or pay you compliments.”

  “They do not dare!” replied Linette, with her eyes flashing. “Papa makes certain that they are courteous and respectful.”

  Anthea sensed that there was more to this than met the eye, but she did not wish to provoke or upset Linette, and so she excused herself and returned to her cabin.

  ‘I can see that I shall have to tread carefully if I am to get to the bottom of this mystery,’ she said to herself, as she arranged her hair for dinner, ‘and I really must discover more about her father.’

  *

  The Sea Sprite left Marseilles the next day after the crew had replenished stocks and loaded more fuel.

  Linette was so thrilled when several large fat lobsters, still alive in buckets, were brought on board.

  Meanwhile she was much amused by the fact that Midshipman Jones appeared at every opportunity and was clearly smitten with Anthea.

  “Has he declared himself yet?” she asked, as they reclined on their deckchairs one afternoon.

  “Hush,” answered Anthea. “He is simply doing his job and taking care of us.”

  “But we have Jackson for that. Midshipman Jones is more important than a Steward, yet he brings us drinks and nice things to eat all the time.”

  Anthea did not reply – she was thinking about how, the previous evening, he had slipped a volume of poetry under her cabin door along with a note asking her to read a particular verse.

  When she had found it, she blushed to the roots of her hair, as it was a love poem.

  ‘Goodness! I shall have to nip this one in the bud,’ she murmured to herself.

  “I wonder if he will come to the Saloon after dinner again, as he did last night,” queried Linette. “I must say he was very amusing and has a fine singing voice.”

  Later that evening, after they had eaten their dinner, Midshipman Jones did, indeed, come to the Saloon.

  He was looking exceedingly smart and had taken a great deal of care with his personal appearance.

  “Good evening, ladies,” he began. “Miss Preston, would you care to walk out on deck with me? There is a wonderful constellation in the skies this evening that is so rarely glimpsed and I feel that you should see it.”

  Linette stifled a giggle.

  “I would love to,” agreed Anthea, rising from her chair, throwing Linette a warning look and said she would see her presently.

  Outside the evening was fine and warm.

  The sky overhead was incredibly clear and the stars seemed to be closer to the earth than normal.

  Midshipman Jones led Anthea to the top deck and pointed out the constellation to her.

  “Can you see it? It is next to the Scales.”

  “Oh, where might they be?”

  He moved behind Anthea and gently guided her in the right direction.

  “Over there,” he whispered in her ear.

  Anthea suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable. Although he had moved away, he was still a presence behind her.

  At last she saw it.

  “How wonderful – and so bright! The stars do not shine so in England.”

  “That is because the sky is so much clearer here.”

  She turned to face him and, as she did so, she drew back.

  His face was so full of adoration that she was not certain what he might do next.

  He grasped her hand and kissed it.

  “Midshipman!” she snapped, snatching it away.

  “Oh, I am so sorry but I am dying of love for you!” he declared, falling to his knees. “I cannot sleep or eat for thinking of you. Might I hope that you could maybe think of me favourably?”

  Anthea stared at him for a moment not quite certain how to respond.

  ‘He’s just a boy compared to the Earl,’ she thought. ‘Even though he is attractive and kind, I could not possibly consider him as a suitor.’

  Midshipman Jones remained on his knees, looking pleadingly up at her.

  Eventually she spoke to him as gently as she could.

  “Midshipman Jones, you really flatter me with your affections, but I am devoted to Linette and have promised her father that I shall concentrate on her and nothing else. I am sorry, but I am too busy to consider romance.”

  The deflated Midshipman rose to his feet slowly.

  “I have made a perfect fool of myself,” he sighed, hanging his head.

  “Not at all. Shall we return to the Saloon? Linette will be getting restless.”

  “I should return to the bridge,” he replied. “I take over the next watch presently and I should go and see what is happening.”

  He then saluted and strode off down the deck.

  ‘What a to-do!’ murmured Anthea, as she walked back to the Saloon. ‘I feared he was going to make a declaration and I should have stopped him – now the poor boy is crushed. How could I tell him that my attention is occupied by another?’

  It was not Linette but the Earl.

  His amber eyes haunted all her dreams and she so longed to see him again.

  That evening the Captain had said he expected to be in Naples in two days and now Anthea could not wait.

  ‘I hope that the Earl’s ship has overtaken ours and is already there,’ she brooded, as she entered the Saloon.

  “Anthea, what happened? Did he try to kiss you?” demanded Linette, seemingly fascinated.

  She was relieved that the Captain was no longer in the room.

  “Thankfully, no,” she answered, sitting down with a sigh. “But he did say that he loved me.”

  “How exciting! What did you say to him?”

  “I let him down as lightly as I could.”

  “Poor soul! Was he upset? I notice he is no longer with you. Did he run away?”

  “He has returned to his post on the bridge and yes, he did seem rather unhappy.”

  “Poor lovesick Midshipman Jones!” sang Linette, twirling around the room.

  She was still dancing when Jackson came to clear the glasses and coffee cups.

  *

  The very next day, Anthea was awakened early by Jackson bringing in a letter for her.

  “What is this?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  “It’s a telegraph message from his Lordship.”

  She took it eagerly and scanned it quickly.

  “I hope my daughter is behaving,” it read. “And I will see you both in Naples on Thursday. Looking forward to our reunion.

  Regards, Elliot Hayworth.”

  Anthea’s heart was beating so fast that she thought she might swoon. She realised that it had not really been necessary for him to send a message – they had long since arranged that they would meet in Naples.

  ‘Could I dare believe he has some feelings for me?’ she thought with a mounting excitement. ‘Why else would he send the message to me and not to Linette?’

  Anthea tried to stay calm as she dressed, but then, totally unable to contain herself, as soon as she entered the Saloon, she blurted out to Linette that she had heard from the Earl.

  “Papa telegraphed you and not me?” she pouted.

  “I am certain he meant the telegr
am for both of us,” she replied hastily.

  “That will be it,” nodded Linette, satisfied that she was right.

  “I look forward to becoming better acquainted with your father,” volunteered Anthea, as casually as she could. “He seems such an interesting gentleman, even if he is a bit of a mystery.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I mean the fact that he has never remarried. When did you say your mother died?”

  “Oh, I was only two. Mama miscarried and it was later that she succumbed to an internal infection. Papa does not like to talk about it.”

  “That is so tragic, it must have been awful for him,” persisted Anthea. “Eighteen years is a long time for him to be on his own. Have there never been ladies in his life?”

  “Not Papa!” answered Linette, laughing. “I am not even certain that he cares for romance. If he has romances, he keeps them to himself. I know he would never bring a lady into the house unless she was to be his wife – and that has never happened.”

  “That is a great pity. A man should not be without a woman.”

  “I agree, but Papa will never discuss such a subject with me.”

  Anthea fell silent.

  She was still singing inside with joy at receiving his telegram and her lonely heart reached out to his, wherever he might be.

  As the ship ploughed on towards Naples, she went up on deck after breakfast and gazed into the distance as the spray flew up into her face.

  ‘I shall find a way into his heart,’ she vowed to herself resolutely. ‘Once we reach Naples, I shall find a way.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  As promised, The Sea Sprite duly arrived at Naples the following morning.

  As the ship sailed majestically into its wide curving bay, Anthea was entranced by all she could see.

  Above them towered Mount Vesuvius.

  “Goodness, I hope it does not decide to erupt while we are here!” muttered Linette.

  “Captain MacFarlane says it last erupted ten years ago. Although that was not a major eruption, many people were killed and the sea level was raised as a result.”

  “Oh, dear. Hopefully we shall be fortunate and it will remain intact whilst we are here, but look, there is smoke coming from it.”

  “That is because it is an active volcano. I have read a little about volcanoes after that dreadful eruption in Java that killed so many Dutch settlers as well as natives.”