Regency Belles & Beaux

by Michele McGrath

  “You would be able to build a different existence later on. A number of other females have lived under the captain’s protection. He treated them well and paid them off handsomely at the end. The last one left a few months ago.”

  “What happened to her?” Even though she felt disgusted, Lucy was also curious about such women’s lives. She had never imagined in her wildest dreams having such a conversation with anyone, not even her husband.

  “She was ill and went home to her mother.” The captain’s child died at birth and the mother had barely lived but O’Rourke saw no reason to tell Lucy those facts.

  “Which I would not be able to do.”

  “No, but there are other places to make your home, in France or even in some quiet town in England if you wished.”

  “I would still be a stranger.”

  “You were about to become a stranger in Ireland.”

  “You sound as if you want me to accept the captain’s offer,” she accused him.

  “It’s not for me to tell you what to do; I’m only describing the possible consequences of your decision.”

  “Don’t you care?” she demanded, close to tears.

  “Miss Ridgeway, Lucy, I’m a privateer, a thief if you will. In the eyes of your countrymen I’m even a traitor, ripe for hanging. What right do I have to care about you or any other female?” He looked straight at her and Lucy realised that his eyes were sad. She shivered slightly.

  “I see, and if I refuse the captain’s offer? What would happen to me then?”

  “Very little. He would simply lose all further interest in you. He has power in this town but he would not use it against you unless your refusal became common knowledge. If you spoke about it, it would make him appear ridiculous and that he would not forgive. He can be a dangerous enemy but also a good friend. Most likely you would be left alone but he wouldn’t bother to help you if you needed his assistance.”

  “Would I need it?”

  “You might. Saint-Malo can be an unpleasant place at times.”

  “You said before that you wanted to help me. Why?”

  O’Rourke looked away and ran his fingers over his face. “Perhaps one day I’ll tell you, but until then you must accept my word without an explanation. I realise I have brought you a difficult choice. With your permission, I’ll leave you to decide and call again in the morning for your answer.”

  “Mr. O’Rourke, Patrick! Can’t you tell me what to do?” Lucy asked plaintively.

  “No, Alannah, I can’t. If I helped you to make the wrong decision you would never forgive me. Whatever you decide, either way, I’ll help you.”

  Somewhat comforted by his last words, Lucy watched him leave and then flew upstairs to her room, where she could be alone with her whirling thoughts.

  For a little while she found it almost impossible to think at all. Then she made herself consider the possibilities of each choice. If she accepted the captain, O’Rourke said that she would live an enjoyable life, one in which she would be given many of the things she had always wanted. On the other hand, she would be with Captain Rollin. He was not an ugly man but he must be as old as her father and he could not even speak her language. She realised that her behaviour at dinner on board his ship might be considered a form of flirting although had no intention of doing so. Mrs. Hardie had reproved her for it later. She had only a vague interest in the captain because O’Rourke occupied her thoughts to the exclusion of all others.

  The captain would expect her to share his bed and do strange things which the girls used to giggle about in school. Not that any of them really knew more than the rumours and half whispers they had overheard from their elder sisters’ chatter.

  If O’Rourke had offered her a similar possibility she realised she would have accepted, even though she realised she shouldn’t entertain such a proposition for an instant. It meant complete ruin. O’Rourke had warned her that Captain Rollin would not keep her with him for long. Lucy was vain enough to believe that she might make him stay with her, but, even so, it was a risk. She would be gambling her future against comfort in the present. If the worst happened and the captain discarded her early, then she would be on her own with nowhere to go. She would not be able to return home even if she had money. Lucy admitted to herself that she wanted to go back to London and Becky. She had dreamed about returning from Ireland, with a young, rich husband beside her. If she accepted the proposition a life of obscurity in a country town would be the most she could hope for.

  If she refused him, though, what next? O’Rourke had assured her his captain would not seek to harm her unless she told other people about her refusal. I can keep a secret, so I would be no worse off than I am now. I’ll wait here with the others until my grandmother obtains my release. But what if she doesn’t? A little voice asked and Lucy shivered. If they don’t and I have to stay here, I would be better off with Captain Rollin. The choice should be straightforward but it isn’t. Oh, what am I to do?

  She sat up on her bed and untied her pocket from beneath her skirt. She pulled out the locket with the pictures of her parents. Lucy gazed at her mother’s face. Miranda Ridgeway had been so beautiful. Lucy choked back a little sob. Mama would want me to refuse and so would Becky. Papa would say I must be brave and do what’s right. If I accept the captain, I can’t look at their pictures without shame or meet Becky’s eyes if we ever see each other again. She would realise in an instant that I have done something disgraceful. She always does, so I would never be able to hide it from her. For the first time, Lucy considered carefully the things that were important to her, her dreams, her family and her future. She would be throwing them all away and entering a different existence and she knew she did not want to. If I did, I would no longer be me. She kissed her mother’s picture and thought, I can’t bring shame upon Mama or Becky or my father’s name. For the rest of her life Lucy remembered that moment as the end of her childhood.

  Chapter Ten

  When O’Rourke called to see Lucy next morning, she was eating breakfast in the taproom. She drew the letter which she had written to the captain out of her pocket and handed it to him. It had cost her some trouble and several sheets of paper before she had found the right words to refuse his invitation to dinner. O’Rourke’s eyebrows rose. He glanced around the room. A few people were present but none of them were nearby. The Hardies had already left to visit the wounded sailors at the convent. Nevertheless, he dropped his voice.

  “You have refused the offer?”

  Lucy nodded. “Are you surprised?”

  He did not answer her, merely asked, “Who else knows of this?”

  “No one.”

  “That’s wise. Keep it like that.”

  “What happens now?”

  “I’ll call on the captain and give him the letter. Nothing further should happen but I suggest that you write to your grandmother at once and I’ll arrange to have it sent for you. The sooner you are out of Saint-Malo the better.”

  “You said I would not be at any risk.”

  “Not from the captain. He will ignore you and find his pleasures elsewhere but there are others here who might notice his indifference. If they draw the right conclusion, they could well try to press their attentions on you.”

  “Oh!”

  O’Rourke pulled the letter from his pocket and held it out to her.

  “Do you want to change your mind?”

  For a second Lucy hesitated then she put her hands behind her back and shook her head.

  “No. My mind is made up.” She thought she caught a gleam of admiration in his eyes. “Do you have any advice for me?”

  “Be careful. Don’t go out alone. Don’t stay in the taproom when there is other company present. If you go to a concert or a dance, remain in the background, for now at least. I’ll engage to discover what is happening and tell you. If you’re in any difficulty, send for me right away. All the servants here know where to find me and above all, make no mention of what has happened to anyone
at all.”

  Once he had left her, Lucy retired to her room a little shaken. It would not be so easy after all. For a moment she considered running after him and retrieving her refusal but in the end she sat still and did nothing. Deciding that she had better stop thinking and do something to take her mind off the situation, she picked up her pen and started her letter to her grandmother. Again it was difficult for her to find the right words. Whoever would think that taking a ship from London to Ireland would result in her being a prisoner in France? She hoped that Lady Mary would understand that it was not her fault and would make every effort to rescue her.

  Later on that morning, O’Rourke returned and asked her to walk with him. She hurriedly found her outdoor clothes, pulling her pelisse closely against her for the wind was chill. Despite that, he once again led her onto the battlements and to a seat under one of the towers.

  “Nobody can overhear us.”

  “Did you give Captain Rollin my letter?” she asked and he nodded. “What did he say?”

  “He frowned for a moment as I translated it and then tossed it aside. Then he told me he wants to sail on tomorrow’s tide. A good way to draw a line under the affair as far as he is concerned.”

  “You are going with him?” O’Rourke nodded. “Oh dear!” Lucy could not help sounding disappointed. As he had once predicted, she had begun to think of him as a friend at least. Now he was going away and she would miss him. “How long will you be gone?”

  “It depends on what we find. Possibly a few days, no more than a sennight at the longest. The captain dislikes lengthy voyages. A short trip and a good profit is always his aim.”

  “Ships such as the White Hart?” Lucy asked.

  “Perhaps or an American. They sometimes carry richer cargo.”

  She stared at him. “You really are a thief aren’t you?”

  He shrugged. “One of many. Countries at war breed robbers like dogs breed fleas. Before you condemn us, remember that the English make excellent pirates, not that I’ll ever see half the riches of Francis Drake or Raleigh and his cronies.”

  “What will you do when the fighting ends?”

  “It’s been going on for twenty years, ever since I was a boy and there’s no sign of it ending soon. Time enough to think of other things when it does.”

  She looked away from him, out across the anchorage to where the Constanze floated, surrounded by small boats. He followed her gaze.

  “We’re loading stores. If this weather holds we’re sailing on the morning tide tomorrow. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

  Lucy pulled her letter from her pocket. “Send this to my grandmother for me?”

  He nodded. “Several fishermen carry cargo and messages between France and Ireland; for all that such trade is illegal in both countries. The ones we use are reliable.” He glanced at the address. “Your grandmother should receive it in the next few weeks with luck, then you can be on your way again. So remember what I told you. Say nothing and stay with other people. I’ll contact you as soon as I come back.”

  Lucy returned to the battlements to watch the Constanze weigh anchor and head out to sea. Another small ship accompanied her and their headsails made a brave show against the sky. Lucy had managed to persuade Mrs. Hardie to accompany her and see their old enemy leave.

  “Good riddance,” Mrs. Hardie said when the ship was a speck on the horizon. “About time they went. Now I can say to you what I want to say. You’re getting too friendly with that O’Rourke fellow. He’s handsome enough I grant you that. The captain and I are indebted to him for the care he’s given to our men. Ned Barnes and Harry have been singing his praises. Poor Tom, bless him was in no shape to say anything to anybody. In other circumstances, I would not say this, but he’s not a man whose name you want linked with your own. He’s an enemy, a traitor and a pirate. When he returns, keep your distance from him, if you know what’s good for you. No more of these walks he’s been taking you on. People are beginning to talk about the pair of you.”

  A little of Lucy’s old spirit returned at these words and she tossed her head. “Let them talk. I don’t care what a parcel of old gossips say. Mr. O’Rourke has done me no harm and he speaks English. Everybody else I’ve met is either old or French. I’d be bored out of my mind if I had no one my own age to talk to.”

  “Maybe but you wouldn’t like it if a rumour came to your grandmother’s ears. Unless she agrees to ransom you, you’re stuck here with the rest of us.”

  “How could she possibly hear about anything that I do here?”

  “Rumour and scandal are always talked about. I’m not telling you to make mischief, Lucy. You can’t be too careful in a place like this. Few people here have anything to do except gossip and some of them will go home before you do. People write and receive letters all the time. High time someone stopped you before something nasty happens.”

  “Nothing has happened,” Lucy replied. “Nothing is going to happen. I’m not that stupid.” And he hasn’t asked me, she thought.

  Mrs. Hardie nodded. “Keep it that way. Be more discreet in future and everything will be all right.”

  The next day was a Sunday and Lucy went with the Hardies to the Huguenot chapel where a service was held for all the Protestants in the town. They weren’t many of them for they did not fill the small space. Most were elderly, to Lucy’s eyes at least. A couple of ships’ captains like Captain Hardie, three or four merchants, two of their wives, several former passengers and Mr. Anselm. There was also a well-dressed young lad who seemed to be an officer’s son. Mr. Anselm conducted the service along with a portly gentleman who whispered his words so quietly that it was difficult to hear him. Lucy frankly did not try except to join in the prayers for the injured sailors and for Tom, who had died during the night.

  Lucy kept looking around the congregation with curiosity for she had met only a few people before this service. None of them seemed interesting. One of the women had that pinched peevish look that Lucy remembered from a teacher at her school. Another was pale and sickly. Lucy was glad that Mrs. Hardie was not that type of woman. Her robust good sense was occasionally annoying but she was likable and helpful.

  After the service, most of the congregation walked over to an inn, where a small luncheon had been set out. Lucy stayed with the Hardies and Mr. Anselm came over to join them. Lucy wished he had not, for he was full of complaints. He hated his quarters. He deplored the fact that he had to spend time in this country and mix with the most unsavoury type of people.

  “… Like that man over there.” Lucy followed the direction of his gaze and saw a tall man with long dark hair. He was wearing a leather waistcoat and a velvet coat which must have been a very rich garment indeed when it was new. The man noticed her looking at him and made a small bow. Then he said something to one of his companions before she turned her face away.

  “Do you know him, Lucy?” Mrs. Hardie asked in surprise.

  “No, I have never seen him before.”

  “Then why did he bow to you?”

  “I don’t know. Who is he Mr. Anselm?”

  “Another pirate but not as grand as the one who captured us. His ship is a mean little thing.”

  “Which one is it?”

  “The Matou. It was pointed out to me by Mr. Bowen over there.” Mr. Anselm nodded towards a merchant who sat at a nearby table.

  The conversation turned to other things and Lucy forgot about the black-haired man until they were leaving. As they stood outside the tavern, making their goodbyes, he was suddenly beside her.

  “Good day to you,” he said in strongly accented English. “I am Georges Dupré master of the Matou.” He looked at Captain Hardie. “I have been told that you were the captain of the brig that Rollin brought in.” Captain Hardie nodded as Dupré continued, “It would be my pleasure if you would dine aboard my ship, yourself and these ladies.”

  “Very kind of you, Captain,” Captain Hardie grunted, “but we are engaged this evening.�
�

  “Tomorrow then.” Dupré laughed. “I’ll guarantee you a better dinner than even the good Suzette Arbez can produce.” Lucy could see that Captain Hardie was reluctant but he seemed unable to find an excuse, so he nodded and agreed,

  “Tomorrow then. We will look forward to it.”

  “Jimmy, how could you?” Mrs. Hardie exclaimed when Captain Dupré left. “I don’t want to go anywhere near that man, never mind dine with him.”

  “What would you like me to say to him? No, thanks, we don’t like you. We’re foreign prisoners in this town, my dear, and don’t need more enemies while we’re here. Find me an excuse that he’ll accept and I’ll use it.”

  “I don’t trust him; his eyes are too close together.”

  Captain Hardie laughed. “If that’s the best you can do, we’ll certainly eat on board his ship tomorrow.”

  Mr. Anselm, fresh from a walk, brought the news that Captain Rollin’s ship, the Constanze, was anchoring in the bay. “No doubt we’ll have that fellow O’Rourke back here before long.” He glowered over at Lucy, who dropped her head so he did not see her smile. It would be nice to talk to Patrick again. She had tried to chat to the young boy in the congregation yesterday, but his mother had swept him rapidly away, giving the feeblest of excuses. She doesn’t like me, Lucy thought. I wonder why.

  Sure enough, the noon meal was hardly over when O’Rourke strode into the tavern. He did not immediately come over to Lucy although he smiled at her. He spoke to Madame Arbez, making her laugh and dropped something into her hand. Then he came up to Mrs. Hardie and said,

  “Your letter has been passed to an English fishing boat which will carry it into Plymouth. With luck, it’s already on its way to London.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yours has gone too, Miss Ridgeway. It should be in Cove by now.”

  “I’d like a word with you, Mr. O’Rourke if I may.” Captain Hardie got to his feet. “In private.”