by Wendy Bayne
Father sighed, running his hand across his eyes. “How much is this going to cost me?”
Samuel clapped him on the shoulder. “Courtesy of the Crown to be paid in full by Sir Thomas.”
Father looked shocked. “Well, that was rather generous of the old man.”
Samuel chuckled. “I was surprised he acquiesced so quickly to my demand, but he rather likes the idea of having a band of gypsies on the payroll so to speak.”
Father smirked and nodded toward the band. “Do they know that?”
Samuel laughed out loud, “Oh my god, NO! If they did they’d be camping out on the palace grounds.”
Father nodded. “So what of Gabriel?”
“That’s who was riding with me. He has gone on to the Inn where we’ll be staying tonight and looking for that sneak Ramsey along the way. Gabriel capped old Clarke, but Ramsey got away. Mrs Clarke attempted to gain entrance to your home by stealth, but Murphy told me that Charity took her down handily and Murphy got her cohort. When I left Sir Thomas’s men had taken them off to Newgate.” He looked around at our group. “Where’s Matthew?”
Father explained what had transpired while my Uncle had remained in France. “And what the duce are you doing back here already?”
Samuel laughed. “It was Em and Mrs Baxter’s idea. Mrs Baxter hasn’t been back to England in some time and wanted to bring Patrick for a bit of vacation. She’s thinking of sending him to school here, I wish her the best of luck on that one. Personally, I think they were just feeling lonely after everyone left. Oh, by the by I was paid a visit by the local tax collector before we left, he had some documents for me to sign and during our conversation I found out that there had apparently been some issues with the chateau’s back taxes but that they had been taken care of before I received the transfer papers. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you, Colin?”
I grimaced inwardly waiting to hear my father’s response. Without missing a beat, he said, “No, my good man, I had nothing to do with it. Maybe the Minister of the Interior Monsieur Corbière made them disappear for services rendered. It would be very French of him not to say a word till later when he needs a favour.”
Samuel arched a brow and said in a drawl looking suspiciously at my father, “Yes, it would be very French of him.”
Father was saved from saying anything else with the arrival of Jibben who dismounted in one fluid motion to stand beside my father. He placed an arm across his shoulder. “Ah, Turner, so we work together again for his Majesty! I hope this will be fun, my men are bored, they need something that will stir their blood and that our women will sing songs about! They were disappointed that our raid on the warehouses was postponed.” Then he spied my mother and walked over to her to take her hand and kissed it like a courtier. “Mrs Turner, may I say that impending motherhood becomes you!”
My father looked furious but Mother only blushed. “Why thank you, Jibben.” Uncle Samuel watched my father with a rueful smile as he went over and removed my mother’s hand from Jibben’s grasp.
Then Jibben turned on his heel nonplussed and grasped the Earl’s hand. “William, I am so glad to see you again, my friend. Are you and the beautiful Miss Turner becoming better acquainted? A word to the wise, my friend, when you negotiate the marriage contract it should be noted that she is very headstrong and disposed to fits of temper.” I stood there with my mouth open, I couldn’t believe that he’d said that to the Earl then he had the nerve to look at me and wink.
Father, Jibben, my Uncle and the Earl walked off to speak with Michael and Jacob then Robert drifted over to join in the discussion. The coachmen were busy with the horses when the cavalcade of gypsy wagons finally reached us. Jibben’s grandmother was in the front wagon biting down on a pipe as she brought the horses to a stop. She removed the pipe while keenly observing our surroundings then shook her head motioning for Jibben to come to her. He walked over, jumped onto the wagon and bent down to listen to her. When she was done he got down and she began the process of turning the wagon around with the others following suit. Jibben walked up to my father. “Mama says you picked a terrible place to stop, it’s too close to the city and Ramsey is up in the hills behind you watching.” He pointed to the distant hillocks as if he could see him there himself.
I spoke up. “How does she know; did she see him?”
Jibben pointed to his forehead. “She sees him in here. Mama refused him a reading once after touching him, she sensed that he is without a soul…pure evil, she can feel that same evil up there now.”
I ventured to look after her wagon then back at him, but he was grinning at me. Then he became serious and said in a very cultured voice, “Remember, Miss Turner, ‘there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy’.” He was quoting Shakespeare to me like a gentleman in a London drawing room, then he grinned, turned away and walked back to the men.
Mother with James, Meg and Beth following her ventured over to me and we moved to sit on the blanket covered grass watching the men discuss strategy. I wanted listen in, but I knew I would not be welcomed so I distracted myself by playing with James. I sat with him watching a troop of ants march past us as he tried to divert their course; but they remained ever true to their destination and merely went around or over whatever road blocks he placed before them.
Father finally came over to us and knelt, James immediately forgot the ants and walked over to my father. “Papa…here!” He presented him with an ant on his sticky finger. My father fell onto his back laughing and lifting James above his head with James laughing and kicking his legs as he screamed out, “Papa, papa, papa!”
My father smothered James with kisses and I felt bereft as I wondered what I had missed out on as a child. I felt my mother’s concern rather than saw it. She reached for my hand and squeezed it. Then my father sat up holding James, they looked so much alike, both were grinning from ear to ear as he looked at me, “You were just as inquisitive as this little mister at the same age.” Then he blew on James’ belly who returned the attention by shrieking in Father’s ear. But Father was still looking at me and smiling, “One day you’ll know the same joy,” then he went back to blowing on James’ belly.
I looked at my mother for confirmation that I had indeed known him as papa once and had called him such, she nodded with glistening eyes. I felt a warmth in my heart as I realised that we had really been together as a family whenever we could in those first few years. But then I had lost him and forgot him, but he had never forgotten me. How painful that must have been for him to come to our home before my grandfather had returned and to treat me as the younger sister of his best friend; the agony that must have caused him. I would not begrudge him these moments with James since I had once had them too.
Chapter 38
The Journey with Gypsies
James tired of playing and fell asleep on my father’s lap so he handed him to Meg while he spoke to us, “I was ready to send you all back to London but Jibben and Samuel believe that Ramsey would only turn around and follow you back there and while I have my reservations about all of us pushing forward I’d rather have you close by.”
Mother looked puzzled. “Close by, where will you be?”
He looked back at Jibben and Samuel. “I’m going with them, the Earl has agreed to stay with you along with Michael and Jacob. You’ll be traveling with the gypsies, but you’ll stay at inns during the night and travel with them during the day for safety’s sake.”
Mother did not look pleased. “And where will you be staying at night, sleeping rough under a hedge?! That is not acceptable, Colin! How will it look to whoever has been following us if you suddenly run off?”
The Earl came up behind us. “She has a point, Turner, and you’d be taking a number of the able-bodied men from the gypsy camp with you, are you willing to leave them with just myself, your two grooms and your valet?” Father glared at him. “I am fairly competent with a pistol and sword and I’m sure your grooms hav
e more skill than I from the look of them, but Robert is just a lad and Allan is your butler!”
Samuel joined us and coughed. “You know, Colin, you can’t always be in the thick of things and with James, Irene and Lissa here I think they might feel better with you staying with them. We’re only going to reconnoitre when we get there anyway. We’ll meet up with you before we take any action. By then word might have reached Miles and Dr Grimes. I’m sure Burley is aware that we’ll be coming, he just doesn’t know who or how many.”
I looked at my father waiting for him to make a decision, so I asked, “What about Gabriel? He’s gone on ahead, do you trust him?”
My father wasted no time in answering me, “Yes, I do. This is about his family; he needs them to feel safe, so he has to eliminate those that threatened their safety.”
I bit my lower lip and pointedly glared at my father then my uncle, “And what if you get in his way, are you going to condone murder then turn around and give Gabriel up to the Crown? I don’t think he deserves that, Father.”
“I agree,” the voice came from the copse of trees directly behind me. Gabriel stepped out. “Ramsey got away again,” he looked back over his shoulder at the hillock behind us. “If we are discussing our next move, I suggest that we all travel with the gypsies and we should stay in their camp at night. Burley wants to break us up, I can feel it in my bones.”
Jibben was not far off and approached us to say, "This Lord Burley sounds like a man that doesn’t like to take chances, Turner, you may be wise to listen to this one and my friend William. As a great General once said, ’If your enemy is secure at all points, be prepared for him. If he has superior strength, evade him. If your opponent is temperamental, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, that he may grow arrogant. If he is taking his ease, give him no rest. If his forces are united, separate them. Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.’"
Everyone stood in awe of Jibben for a few seconds then the spell was broken when Meg of all people said, “That’s a quote from The Art of War by Sun Tzu!” Jibben grinned and nodded while the rest of us stood gobsmacked looking at Meg.
Father ventured, “How did you know that?”
Meg blushed as she was brushing down her skirts, “Not me, Mr Turner, I got it from Billy Phipps, he loves that sort of stuff. He told me the man he thought was his da used to talk to him about things like that all the time, just like he was a man and not a brat like the other men that came to see his mother.”
Mother grasped Meg’s arm. “Billy knows who his father is?”
Meg looked terrified now. “Well, he isn’t sure, that’s why he’s never said anything. But he did tell me he’s sure that he’s an officer in the army. He thought he might have recognized him at that dinner party you held for Mr and Mrs Spencer after they got married.”
Mother clasped her hands to her chest. “Good heavens, Billy’s father is one of our acquaintance?!” Meg only nodded. “Did he tell you who?”
“No, ma’am, he said that he didn’t want to cause a fuss, but I think he really didn’t want the man to deny him. He did say that his mum never told him who his da was though, but he thought that the Major at your last party had the look of the man he thought was his da.”
Mother shook her head. “Colin?”
Father raised both of his hands before him. “Yes, I know, dear, but one crisis at a time please. It could be Hopewood, I’ll investigate when we return to London. But it may be better to let the thing alone, Irene.”
Mother blurted out. “How do you know it’s Hopewood?”
Father smiled. “He’s an acquaintance, I met him through Sir Thomas. He was a major who recently resigned his commission in the Coldstream Guards after his father past away. Billy looks a bit like him and has the same interests…so it’s possible.”
Mother clasped her hands together, she looked excited. “Do you think he’ll claim the boy if Billy is his?”
Father was reticent. “It’s hard to say, Irene. He’s not married and spends a great deal of time on his estate. He’s not too far from us in Somerset, I promise you I will address this when we are done in Cornwall.”
Mother smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “I know, darling, we have other priorities.”
Father turned to Jibben to change the subject, “Don’t you think it’s about time that you gave up the halting English accent and gypsy bravado and tell us who you really are?”
Jibben’s eyes grew dark, he fisted both hands then he relaxed and bowing to my father he spoke with a perfect English accent, “I see my bravado as you so aptly put it has finally been my downfall. Grandmama always says that I lay it on too thick.” He smiled and bowed to my mother then me saying, “Stephen Thomas Jibben Locke at your service, ladies.”
Father and Samuel both stood with their arms crossed staring at him, it was my uncle who spoke up first. “Oxford, I take it? Especially since I don’t remember hearing of you at Cambridge and we would have heard of a fellow like you.”
Jibben scratched his head and sighed, “You have me Hughes.”
Samuel continued, “Why the facade?”
Jibben shook his head. “It’s not a façade.” He pointed back over his shoulder, “Magda is my real grandmother. My mother is part Roma and my father’s a gentleman farmer in Devon.”
Samuel smiled. “Your mother is only part Roma?”
Jibben shrugged. “A youthful indiscretion of Granmama’s, she liked Englishmen in her youth…but not so much now.” He coughed and looked at the ladies. “I must apologize, ladies.” Mother nodded “My mother had no desire to follow the Roma way of life and lived with her father. She met my father at a local Assembly room and the rest was history, from that moment on they had eyes only for each other. My mother wanted me and my sister to know both cultures, so I have travelled with Magda almost every summer since I was a boy. My mother said it gave me the chance to get over my wild streak. Otherwise you’ll find me at home for the planting in the spring and harvest in the autumn. I have done so every year of my life since I could mount a horse except for my time at Oxford. Magda wanted to make sure that I had a good education and she insisted that I attend my father’s old school though I had wanted to go to Cambridge because I heard you chaps had more fun. But one does not defy Grandmama.”
I was puzzled. “So Bita is your half-sister?”
He chuckled. “A cousin, her mother is from Magda’s gypsy husband. My sister married well and lives in Devon with a very English husband and a brood of children. Their oldest come to see Magda in the summer and go wild for a few weeks each year. My sister is very talented with herbal medicines and cures. She can deliver a calf and set a bone better than anyone I know. She loves to dance and has the voice of an angel…her husband is quite proud of her.”
Father was taking this all in then he stopped Jibben before he could say any more, “At least now I know I can safely invite you to my club even if you are an Oxford man. But would you care to tell me why you suddenly decided to quote Sun Tzu? I’m sure you had a purpose other than unmasking yourself.”
Jibben stopped smiling. “Turner, you are walking into a trap, you must know that if you split up your party it would be suicide; you’re going to need all of us. The Roma will fight for William and for Miss Turner since she is the betrothed of their benefactor. But you only have me on your side. If you send your women home under the guard of your valet, butler and the Earl, the Roma will follow them. I cannot command them, all I can do is ask them to collect your bodies when Burley is done.”
Samuel arched an eye at Jibben. “So you have military experience?”
Jibben actually blushed. “Yes, my father is a retired Colonel in the 1st Dragoons and as I said my parents meant me to savour both cultures, so I served as well. But the army did not agree with me or me with it. We parted company on amiable terms only after I had read every book in their library.”
Father smirked. “The 1st has one of the finest military libraries
in the country.”
Jibben nodded. “Yes, they do. I was a mere lieutenant who had a talent for riding fast and winning at cards. Neither talent ingratiated me with either my commander or the aristocrats that felt the regiment was the domain of only blue bloods, so I spent a great deal of my time with either the horses or their splendid library.”
Mother cocked her head at him. “Yet you have never married, Mr Lock?”
Jibben sighed. “Not yet, if I did I’d have to give up one of my lives and I’m not prepared to do that just yet.” His smile was wistful but because he did not turn towards the caravan I felt his heart may lay in Devon. Then he shook himself and addressed my father, “We need to stay together, Turner, they already know that we’re coming with you and we’re being watched so there’s no advantage to us splitting up.”
Father grimaced and chewed on his lower lip and looked towards the caravan, then the carriages and up and down the road. Then he cupped his face with both hands and massaged his eyes while he thought. “You’re right, Lock…as much as I hate to say it.”
We were soon on our way once again this time followed by a gypsy caravan. It was twilight before we reached the Inn. Mother, myself, Meg and Beth were taken upstairs by the Innkeeper’s wife who was followed by two maids with hot water.
There was no private parlour so once we had washed and shaken off the dust we adjourned to the common room for our evening meal. The meal was plain but hot and filling. There was a stew of some kind no one was sure the source of the meat, but the gravy was thick and savoury, and the meat was tender, there was also roast capon with vegetables, a sharp cheese and crusty bread. Pudding was a tart with thick cream. Everyone ate heartily but I noticed that our company drank sparingly from the Inn’s wine and not one of them had any ale or small beer which made the Innkeeper suspicious at first until my father overpaid him for the meals. Uncle Samuel was drinking from his flask and when he caught my eye he leaned over and handed it to me. Inside was pomegranate juice which we had both developed a fondness for when we were in Paris. I smiled and took a sip. The mood of the common room around us was subdued, several patrons had come in, had only one drink then left after furtively casting their eyes over us.