by Mary Nichols
‘Thank you, oh, thank you.’
He smiled when she seized his hand, but thought better of it and let it go again as if it were a hot coal. ‘Now, let there be no more tears. You must stay cheerful for your father’s sake.’
‘I will try.’
‘Good. Now, go and give the children their lesson, they are waiting for you.’ He rose, put her hand to his lips and strode away, leaving her rubbing the back of her hand pensively.
‘I wondered if I might go on official business,’ Jay told his father after he had explained what he intended to do. They were sitting together in the library where he had found him working on estate ledgers which were spread out on his desk. ‘If I could have access to the palace, I could smuggle Giradet out without having to resort to violence.’
‘But you know we have recalled our ambassador to France in protest at the dreadful massacres?’
‘No. What happened?’
‘There were rumours that the Prussians had taken Verdun and were at the gates of Paris and intended to restore Louis to the throne and release all the political prisoners. Every able-bodied man was called to defend the city, but instead they decided to massacre the prisoners in the most horrible and bloodthirsty way.’
‘Are the Prussians at the gates of Paris?’
‘I think not. It was a rumour, but who knows what the mob will do next? Lord Gower has been recalled and is even now presenting his report to the government.’
‘All the more reason for me to try to fetch Monsieur Giradet out,’ he said. ‘There must be some people left at the embassy, if only to maintain it until things settle down.’
‘At the moment, yes, but there is talk of ending the neutrality and declaring war on France. If that happened while you were there, you would be an enemy alien and subject to imprisonment, if nothing worse.’
Jay had not realised matters were as bad as that, but having given his word to Lisette, he could not go back on it; it had become a matter of honour. ‘It would not happen without notice, would it? Warnings would surely arrive from London and give me time to leave the country. It is to be hoped with Michel Giradet.’
‘And you wish me to arrange something for you?’
‘Could you?’
‘Possibly. But are you sure you want to do this, Jay?’
‘Yes. I promised Miss Giradet and I cannot go back on that.’
‘Very well, I will see what I can do, although what we will tell your mother, I do not know.’
‘A diplomatic posting—nothing out of the ordinary about that, is there?’
His father smiled at him. ‘I am thinking there is something out of the ordinary about your feelings for Miss Giradet, Jay.’
‘Nonsense. I feel sorry for her, that’s all. She was all for going herself and I could not let her do that, could I?’
‘No, certainly not. I will go to London tomorrow and speak to Pitt personally. It will be quicker than writing. Will you take Sam again?’
‘If you can spare him and if he will come.’ James chuckled. ‘Oh. I think he will. He becomes bored when too long away from adventure.’
Jay thanked him and went in search of Sam to ask him if he would accompany him, to which that worthy instantly agreed. Then he went to the schoolroom.
Lisette was just drawing her lesson to a close. He watched her for a minute or two, admiring the way she dealt with six unruly children, firmly but with gentleness and humour. She would make an admirable mother. His sisters came and took their offspring home and he sent Edward and Anne to amuse his grandfather while he spoke to Lisette.
‘My father is going to arrange for me to go to France as a diplomat with a special mission, all open and above board, no danger at all,’ he told her. ‘Once there, I shall find a way of reaching your brother. I hope he will not need persuading to come with me. Perhaps you could write him a letter for me to take to him telling him he may trust me.’
‘I will do that, but are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Of course, I said I would, didn’t I? I won’t go back on my word—besides, it is all very straightforward.’
‘When do you go?’
‘When my father comes back from London with my assignment and the documents. He is leaving tomorrow morning. With luck he will be back the next evening or if not, the day after that.’
‘Will you go in the Lady Amy?’
‘Yes. Sam will go ahead to alert Lieutenant Sandford to make her ready for sea.’
‘Will it be safe?’
‘Safe! My dear mademoiselle, it is the safest and most seaworthy private yacht afloat.’
‘I did not mean that,’ she said, noting he had reverted to using her title and not her name. ‘I meant it was seen by those maréchaussée who fired at you on the beach. They will have the name of it.’
‘I am going to Calais, not Honfleur, but you are right. It would be a wise precaution to change her name temporarily. I will ask my father if he minds me doing that. Now I must take the children home. I will bring them back tomorrow to stay here while I am gone. They will keep you company and help to take your mind off Michel until we are safely back again.’
He gathered up the children whom he had brought on horseback and together they rode home.
The next twenty-four hours were spent making arrangements for his steward to take over the business of the estate while he was gone. Luckily the threshing was all done, the stacks made and the fields were being ploughed. The apples had been picked and most sent to market in London, but the rest would need making into cider, but it was something that happened every year and Tom Goodyear had been his steward all through his absences at sea and really did not need telling what to do.
Lisette went about her self-allotted duties—preparing lessons for the children, translating a French pamphlet into English to be distributed to sympathisers among the British aristocracy, reading to her father, calling on the village poor with Lady Drymore—but all the time part of her mind was on what Jay was preparing to do. In spite of what he had said and his cheerful attitude, she knew how risky it was and did not doubt he knew it, too.
If his real mission became known, there would be no saving him. He would die and she would have to live the rest of her life knowing she had sent him to his death. It was unbearable. She must tell him not to go, and when he had gone back to Falsham Hall, she would go to France herself and persuade Michel to return to England with her.
‘I cannot let you risk your life on so foolhardy a mission,’ she told him when he returned to Blackfen Manor to await the return of his father. Everything was ready: his bags were packed, the Lady Amy was ready for sea, its gunwale repainted with the name Lady Anne, a name that could easily be wiped off for the original to emerge when they returned, and his children had been told of his impending departure. She found him in the library looking up the times of the tides around The Wash. ‘I could not live with myself if you were to die and your children left orphans as a consequence.’
‘My dear Miss Giradet, I am Not going to die. I will be going as a British envoy and as such will be protected by our government. Not even the French Assembly would dare lift a finger against me.’ He paused. ‘Did you write the letter I asked for?’
‘Yes, but I still do not think you should go. I am very sorry I burdened you with my problems; I wish I had never spoken of them.’
‘But you did and it is my pleasure and privilege to do all in my power to help you. If a simple little voyage across the channel and a few days in Paris can do that, then I will do it. I beg you, think no more of it. I shall probably be back within the week.’
‘Then let me come, too.’
‘Certainly not. I will not hear of it.’
‘But I could be useful.’
‘You could also be an encumbrance. Now, unless you wish to make me angry, you will say no more.’
She turned and left him, annoyed with him and with herself for not being able to persuade him. she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber and f
lung herself down on the bed. In her mind’s eye she saw him boarding the yacht and setting sail, saw him arriving in France and travelling to Paris. He would have to go by diligence or hire a carriage and, once in Paris, he would have to find lodgings. With no one to help him over the language and customs and the new laws being enacted all the time, he might well find himself in trouble. If she could save him from that, she ought to do so, whether he wanted her to or not. But how?
She rose and began throwing clothes in a bag, picking those she could manage herself because Hortense would be left behind and whatever she took she would have to carry. And she would need help to get her to Lynn. Whom could she trust not to betray her?
Lord Drymore had returned very late that night after the household had retired and it was only at breakfast the next morning that he and Jay were able to talk over the final arrangements. ‘Pitt has agreed you are to go to Paris as a special envoy on a peace mission,’ James said. ‘It will mean talking to Robespierre, Danton and their minions in the Jacobin party, who have just ousted the Girondists from power—in truth, it is difficult to keep up with all the changes—and making diplomatic noises which will be meaningless, but he said if he sanctioned your visit to Paris, then you had better have something useful to do while you are there. He wants you to find out how the war with Austria is going, what the Prussians intend and if there is any likelihood of France surrendering. We do not want to become involved if we do not have to.’
‘Spy, you mean?’
‘Intelligence gathering. I have your official appointment which you will take with you and the other orders which you are to destroy when you have read them.’ He paused before going on. ‘He did emphasise that if you were arrested, the British government would have to deny all knowledge of what you were doing.’
‘I understand.’
‘If you don’t want to do it, we can cancel the whole thing. God knows, I would rather you did.’
‘I can’t do that. Lisette is relying on me. I must leave within the hour if I am to catch the tide. I have to say goodbye to the children and Mama, and Mademoiselle Giradet, though if she starts to argue again I shall turn my back on her and leave her.’
‘She did not come down to breakfast. Her maid said she was unwell and would remain in bed today.’
‘It is nothing serious, I hope.’
‘No. The headache. The servant said it was probably the worry of it all. I should slip away quietly.’
Before he left, he wrote a note to Lisette, wishing her a speedy recovery from her headache and telling her to try not to worry. He would be back with her brother in no time. He gave it to a worried-looking Hortense. Sam bade farewell to his wife and they left with his mother and father and children waving goodbye from the courtyard.
Lord Drymore’s carriage was a strong one used by his lordship to ply between Norfolk and London and they fairly rattled along. They spent the time talking about the voyage and what they might expect when they arrived in France, but Jay could not banish the sight of Lisette’s tear-filled eyes from his memory, nor the feel of her soft body in his arms and the smell of lavender in her hair. It had shaken him to the core to find he wanted her. Jay Drymore, who had eschewed the company of women and had sworn never to become entangled with one again, desired this French spinster who was, moreover, the niece of Gerald Wentworth. It was as well he was going away for a few days; it might cool his ardour.
The Lady Anne, with its newly painted name, was at anchor on the quay, but she was ready to sail as soon as Jay and Sam were aboard and wind and tide were favourable. The breeze was from the north-west, which would aid them when they were out of The Wash, but until then they were obliged to tack slowly out to sea. Once in the German Ocean, they turned to sail along the Norfolk coast before catching a strong north-easterly and the vessel fairly skimmed along.
‘At this rate we should make Calais in three days,’ Jay said to Sam on their second day at sea, as they stood at the rail watching the wake they left behind them. ‘Two, three days to Paris and then—’
They heard a cry and a scuffle behind them and turned to see Lieutenant Sandford ushering Lisette towards them. ‘Found her hiding in the ship’s boat,’ he said.
Jay surveyed the dishevelled woman. ‘I might have known,’ he said, shocked and angry with himself for not having foreseen what she would do. What a fool he had been to assume that because he said no, she would meekly accept it. She had already shown she could be wilful and determined and she had said she wanted to come, too; it ought to have alerted to him, especially when she did not appear for breakfast. ‘How did you manage to get on board ahead of us?’
‘I rode across country and before you say anything, the stable boy rode alongside me and took the horse back…’
‘I’ll have his guts…’
‘You will not. I had the devil of a job to persuade him, but the threat that I would abandon a valuable horse finally overcame his reluctance. Do not blame him.’
‘We will have to put ashore.’
‘Why?’
‘To take you back, of course.’
‘I won’t go back. You cannot spare the time. Michel could be thrown into prison, even executed, any day, and unless I miss my guess, the errand you have been given by the British Government won’t allow you to loiter.’
‘You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met,’ Jay said, furious with her, even as he admired her courage. ‘Very well, you may stay on board. And I do mean stay on board.’ He turned to Lieutenant Sandford, who had been listening to the exchange with curiosity and no little amusement. ‘Have my cabin prepared for Miss Giradet, if you please, and put my things in the second one.’
‘Thank you.’ She gave him a winning smile, which threatened to disarm him completely. ‘I am prodigiously hungry. I have only had a piece of bread and cheese since I left.’
‘And food,’ Jay called after the lieutenant, who was disappearing down the companionway.
‘You are not angry with me, are you?’ she asked as Sam, who could not stifle his grin, took himself off to the other side of the yacht and they were alone.
‘Very angry,’ he said.
‘I am sorry for that. But it was a risk I had to take, surely you understand that?’
‘I could understand it of a man, but a gently brought up young lady is not expected to be so hoydenish.’
‘I fear It was the way I was raised,’ she said, remembering Maurice Chasseur had made the same comment. It was a kind of stigma she had lived with for years and to have this man, whom she revered, say the same thing hurt dreadfully. ‘Michel and I were always into mischief and where he went, I went. I did whatever he did, I would not be left behind.’
‘Then it is no wonder your father thinks of you as a second son.’
‘Yes, Michel had his heart. When he went away to court, I tried to take his place.’
‘Impossible!’ He laughed.
‘I know that.’ It was said with a sigh. ‘It is why I must do what I can to restore Michel to him now.’
That she chose to interpret his comment in a way he had not intended, he let pass. ‘That is why I am going to France. There was no necessity for you to come, too.’
‘You are going to need me.’
‘Oh, you think so, do you?’
‘Yes.’
‘No, because you will stay on board and not set foot in France. That is my last word on the subject.’
Lisette did not think there was anything to be gained by pursuing the argument. She was a good sailor and might as well enjoy the voyage and try not to think of what lay ahead. As the seaman who was also the cook came to tell them there was a meal prepared in the captain’s day cabin, they repaired there and afterwards took a turn round the deck. The crew, many of whom had known Jay for years and had never known him bested by a woman, watched and awaited developments with covert amusement.
The wind, though decidedly cool, was fair for France and all sail was set to take advantage of it. She was
determined to be pleasant and unargumentative in order to dispel his annoyance with her and asked questions about the yacht and how it was navigated. When that subject seemed exhausted, she asked him about his life at sea, which had begun when he was ten years old as a cabin boy. He had progressed to midshipman, then lieutenant, then captain and lastly commodore, he told her.
‘Do you miss the sea?’ she asked.
‘Sometimes, but I am content at home with my children.’
‘They must miss their mother.’
‘They did at first. She was a little like you—too adventurous for her own good.’
‘How did she die?’
‘In a riding accident. She tried to jump a hedge, not realising there was a ditch on the other side of it. The horse fell on top of her.’ It was said flatly, like something learned by rote and repeated whenever occasion demanded. She could not help feeling there was more to it than he was prepared to tell her.
‘I am so sorry. I should not have asked. Please forgive me.’
‘You are forgiven.’
They were silent for several minutes, looking out over the rail, each with their own thoughts. Then he spotted something on the horizon and beckoned to Lieutenant Sandford to give him his telescope. ‘A Dutch East Indiaman,’ he said, handing the glass to Lisette. ‘See over there.’ He leaned close to her to point the vessel out. ‘It will not bother us.’
She felt his warm breath on her ear and a tingle coursed right through her body, which she suddenly recognised as desire. Her hand was shaking as she handed back the instrument. He must not see how he affected her, he must not. He thought she was a hoyden, almost mannish, but at that moment she never felt more feminine. ‘I think I would like to go to my cabin and rest,’ she said abruptly.
‘Of course.’ He chuckled. ‘You could not have slept very well in the ship’s boat last night.’
