“Mada…Beth rescued me,” Rosalie said. “But I will never forget the pain. It was terrible.”
“Well, mademoiselle, I assure you that I only flog my crewmen if they really deserve it,” Paul reassured her. “There are many other ways to punish a man that do not stop him working, but are very effective. I do not anticipate any problems with my men on this voyage though. We have all known each other for years, and it is in all our interests to reach France safely. I will endeavour not to flog anyone while you are on board.” He winked at Rosalie, who giggled.
It was lovely to see the two former slaves starting to come out of their shells as the realisation that they were truly free sank in. At the moment Raymond was on the quay helping to load provisions for the journey. He had been ecstatic to discover that there were two black crewmen on L’Améthyste¸ and that both of them had formerly been slaves. They had struck up a friendship, and the three of them were laughing and chatting as they picked up crates of chickens, preparing to carry them on board.
Accommodation for the passengers had been allocated; it had been agreed that Beth and Rosalie would sleep in Paul and Elizabeth’s cabin on mattresses on the floor. This was to ensure that neither of the two women would have to deal with any unwanted advances during the night.
“Because of course I cannot marry all three of you,” Paul had joked, “nor have I the space to allocate you a private cabin with a lock. And while I trust my crew, you are both very attractive ladies and they are men, not saints. I don’t think it fair to expose them to such temptation. You will be safe enough by day. I would ask you not to be too friendly with them, that is all, give them no encouragement. I do not wish to have to kill one of my crew for assaulting you. They all have unique talents and to lose one would cause all of us problems.” He had said it light-heartedly, but Beth had known that he was in earnest. She had resolved to have as little interaction with the crew as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention.
Chores had also been allocated; Beth and Elizabeth would do any sewing and darning that needed to be done, and would help the cook with preparing meals. Rosalie would ensure that the captain’s cabin was kept pristine, and would wash clothes for the crew. Raymond would help out wherever needed, with any chores that required muscle but no skill, as he knew nothing about ships.
While Paul looked out to sea assessing the weather, Beth watched Raymond and his companions on the quayside, realising that she had never heard him laugh once in the six months she had lived with the Delisles. It was good to hear his rich deep laughter now, and she smiled.
In the distance she could see two men in what appeared to be a military uniform of white breeches and frockcoats with blue facings, silver frogging and silver-laced tricorn hats. They were heading along the quay in the direction of L’Améthyste and she watched them idly, thinking how self-important they looked and how hot and uncomfortable they must feel.
When they reached the three black men they stopped and asked a question. Beth couldn’t hear what it was, but by the change in stance of the crewmen it was clear the soldiers were not passing the time of day. Rosalie came to stand next to her on deck. Raymond was saying something to them, but his head was lowered and he had adopted the submissive posture that Beth had been familiar with at Soleil. The two other men were clearly arguing, gesticulating towards the ship. One of the soldiers looked in her direction, then back at the men.
She was just pondering whether to stroll down onto the quay and eavesdrop, when suddenly the two soldiers moved to either side of Raymond, and taking an arm each, started to lead him away. One of the crewmen turned to the ship, put his fingers to his mouth and issued a piercing whistle. Paul turned, but by that time Beth was already halfway down the gangplank, her skirts hitched up around her knees and running at full speed.
She caught up with the three men halfway along the quay, running round to the front of them and stopping, so that they had to halt or push her out of the way. Seeing that she was dressed expensively and tastefully, the soldiers chose to stop.
“Where are you taking this man?” she demanded.
“What concern is that of yours, madame?” one of them asked in return.
“This man is my…” She hesitated, having been about to say ‘friend’, but on doing a lightning reassessment of the possible situation, changed her mind. “Slave,” she said. “I consider theft of my property to be very much my concern.”
The soldiers exchanged a look.
“Madame, this negro is called Raymond, is he not?”
“That is his name, yes,” she replied.
“Raymond, belonging to Monsieur Delisle?”
“There you are in error, sir,” Beth stated. “Monsieur Delisle sold him to me. He is my negro. Kindly release him at once.”
“You have the papers to prove that?” the second soldier asked.
Beth gave him a look of such contempt and disgust that he flushed and looked away.
“You are calling me a liar?” she said icily. “If you would care to accompany me to the ship I will show you the bill of sale. And then you will apologise for insulting me, sir.”
“Madame, we mean no offence,” the other, somewhat older soldier said. “But we have been ordered to arrest this man.”
“What on earth for?”
“Last night we discovered that a number of negroes have been organising a rebellion, and this man has been named as one of the ringleaders. We are taking him for questioning.”
“Raymond? Organising a rebellion?” she said with utter incredulity. She looked at Raymond, who was standing silently between the two men, gazing down at the ground. “And who has named him?”
“We are not at liberty to disclose that,” the older soldier said. So they knew who it was.
“Raymond, look at me,” Beth commanded crisply. Reluctantly he looked up from the ground and met her gaze. She saw his expression, the hopelessness in his eyes, and remembered what he had said the night he had given her the amulet.
“It will give you protection against disease, madame, and against…other things.”
Other things. Like a slave rebellion. She could not ask him if the accusation was correct as she had been about to do, in case he answered truthfully. Oh, Raymond, no, she thought. And then she flung the thought as far away as she could, and turned back to the soldiers. Over their shoulders she could see Paul approaching at a trot.
“Really, this is quite ridiculous,” she said, looking intently at the military men. “Was it the overseer, Armstrong, who made this accusation?” The blank look on their faces gave her her answer. “No. Then it was most certainly the negro Jacques.”
Aha.
“I see by your expression sir, that it is indeed Jacques who has given this false information against my slave. This is nothing more than petty spite. The fact is that initially Monsieur Delisle was reluctant to sell Raymond to me, as he is such a skilled and faithful servant. He proposed that I take Jacques instead. I told him that Jacques would never do. No doubt the man has a grievance because he is not skilled enough to go to France, and Raymond is. There,” she said firmly. “Now that is explained, you may release him. We sail with the tide.”
“I am sorry, madame, but we have strict orders to take the man into custody. He will not be sailing with the tide, or with any other tide until the accusations have been thoroughly investigated.”
“I see,” Beth replied. “Very well. You must do your duty, I understand that. Captain Marsal, you will have to arrange for my bags to be unloaded. I regret to say that I will not be able to sail with you tonight. Now sirs, I must have your names, rank and regiment to include in my letter.”
The two soldiers were taken aback.
“Letter?” the younger one said.
“Yes. If I cannot sail tonight, then I must write immediately so that Captain Marsal can take my letter to King Louis with him. Captain, can I trust you to personally deliver it to His Majesty? He will be most disappointed to find I am not com
ing to France, but hopefully he will understand that these men must do their duty.”
Paul Marsal’s eyes were sparkling, but his expression was serious as he replied.
“Of course, my lady. I would be honoured.”
“Excellent!” she said crisply. “So, sirs. You will give me your names, so that I can tell the king who has prevented me from sailing to France today.”
“I…we are not preventing you from sailing to France, er…”
“Lady Elizabeth Peters,” she supplied. “Indeed you are, sirs. Because this slave is my particular present to Louis…His Majesty, and I have no intention of going to him empty-handed. It is most unfortunate, but there it is. I will wait in Martinique until you have found out that I am not a liar, as you currently believe me to be. Now, shall we go?”
She set off in the direction they had been taking before she’d stopped them. After a few steps she turned back, to see the two soldiers still immobile, with their captive between them.
“Do you intend to interrogate your prisoner on the quayside?” she asked.
“Er, no, mada…my lady. I…perhaps there has been some mistake?”
“You are quite right. There has. But as you are so insistent on taking the word of a spiteful negro over mine, you must proceed as you think fit. Raymond, stand up straight, boy! I will explain the situation to Monsieur le Marquis myself. If you are not released immediately, you certainly will be when the king hears of how displeased I am to be called a liar to my face.”
“My lady!” the younger soldier protested. “We did not call you a liar!”
“I think that perhaps…in this case…if you would be so kind as to make a short deposition confirming the innocence of your negro, we might be able to make an exception?” the older soldier suggested, his tone pleading.
Lady Peters looked extremely annoyed at this imposition on her time.
“It is most inconvenient, but if it means that we can sail with the tide, I would consent to that to have this unfortunate business over and done with,” Beth replied with great condescension.
Within twenty minutes they were back on the ship, and a note had been written and signed with a flourish.
“Bravo, my lady,” Paul said admiringly as the two soldiers made their way down the gangplank. “You were magnificent. I have never seen the like.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Beth replied. “Sir Anthony taught me well. But now I need a very strong drink.”
However before any alcohol could be imbibed, there was a small matter to attend to.
Beth and Paul sat side by side on burgundy-upholstered chairs, while Raymond stood in front of them like a naughty child, his head bowed. Elizabeth was on deck supervising the loading of the remaining provisions.
“For God’s sake, Raymond, sit down,” Beth said, gesturing to the chair behind him. He did as he was told, still looking at the floor.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she said. “Jacques did accuse you out of spite, but the accusation is true.”
Raymond sighed.
“Yes, madame, it is true,” he said.
“Is that what you meant when you said the amulet would protect me from other dangers?” she asked.
“Yes. Everyone involved knew that the lady with the amulet was not to be harmed. I am sorry, I am not the person you believed me to be. I have disappointed you.” He looked at her now for the first time, and his eyes were bright with tears. “I swear to you, Rosalie knew nothing of this, and I would have her remain ignorant of my part in it,” he said. “I will do anything you ask, but I beg you, please take her with you. Let her have a new life away from here!”
Beth looked at Paul, but he remained silent, his face inscrutable.
“You will do anything I ask?” she said. “Would you then tell me who is involved in this plot and when the rebellion was to take place?”
Raymond’s eyes widened in alarm.
“Madame Beth, I…I cannot do that. I cannot betray those who trust me. They would be tortured…you have no idea what would be done to them. Please, do not ask me to do that.”
“But Jacques betrayed you,” Paul spoke softly for the first time.
“Yes Captain, he did. He has lost his honour. But I will not lose mine. I put myself in your hands. You may sell me back into slavery if you wish, or kill me. I will kill myself if you ask it. But I cannot betray those who trust me. I am sorry.”
Beth smiled. He had just proved himself the man she believed him to be.
“Raymond, I would like to tell you something about myself,” she said. “Paul, you already know this. I was brought here as a prisoner, because I and my husband engaged in a rising against the man who calls himself King of Great Britain. My husband was one of the most wanted men in Britain, and I am here because I would not betray him under any circumstances. I know what it is to be oppressed. I am not disappointed in you. Quite the opposite, in fact. For my part I am proud of you for seeking to free yourself. I do not wish you to kill yourself, or to become a slave again. I wish you to come to France and start a new life with your daughter, and to never feel unable to meet my eyes, or anyone else’s again. I cannot speak for Captain Marsal though. Captain, are you happy to have this rebel on board your ship?”
Paul laughed.
“You are the most innocent of all my crew, Raymond. Really, you don’t want to know what they have done. I am delighted to have you on board, sir, not because you were attempting rebellion, but because you would not betray your fellows. Loyalty is a trait I value highly. May I suggest that we put both this unfortunate incident and Martinique behind us, just as soon as the tide allows?”
The captain’s suggestion met with the approval of all three occupants of the room.
Four hours later, L’Améthyste, with its full complement of crew and passengers, sailed out of Fort Royal. Beth, Raymond and Rosalie stayed on deck, watching the beautiful tropical island recede. None of them felt anything but joy when it disappeared from view completely.
Then as one, they turned from the rail, toward the distant horizon and a new life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The trip from Martinique to France went wonderfully for the three passengers, in the main because the cabin Beth was occupying and the food she was served at mealtimes was far superior to that on the trip out, but also because the other two passengers were experiencing freedom for the first time in their lives, and really starting to grasp the idea that their opinion would be sought about things and that they were allowed to say no if they were asked to do something they didn’t want to do.
Having said that, at the moment they had no desire to refuse anything that was requested of them, because everything that was being asked was reasonable. The chores they’d been allocated were fair, and Raymond was thoroughly enjoying learning about the sea, while Rosalie was enjoying learning absolutely everything Beth could think of to teach her that might help her once she landed in France. This included further mastery of reading and writing, basic number work, and how to dye beautiful silver-blonde hair a hideous mud-brown colour.
Beth had intended to wait until they were a day or so from their destination before attempting to disguise her most outstanding feature, but an incident which occurred in the first couple of days of the voyage made her revise her plan.
Having been told by Elizabeth that she wore men’s clothing when at sea, Beth had had a pair of breeches, a shirt and waistcoat made in her size, thinking that it would be wonderful to roam around the deck without cumbersome skirts blowing around her legs. She had donned her new outfit with excitement and had emerged on deck into the morning sun, managing all of thirty seconds in public view before Paul had gripped her shoulder, turned her round and marched her back into the cabin.
“What on earth are you thinking?” he said, once the door was closed. “You cannot walk around deck dressed like that!” He made a gesture with his hand that took in her outfit of green cotton breeches, cream stockings, white linen shirt with full sleeves, curren
tly rolled up to the elbow, and a plain fitted green waistcoat.
Beth’s face fell.
“Why not? Elizabeth wears men’s clothing at sea, she told me so!” she countered.
“That’s true, but there’s a difference,” Paul replied. “You must change, immediately.”
“I don’t see the difference,” Beth persisted. “Just because she’s your wife doesn’t mean that—”
“Yes, it does. Partly, at least,” Paul interrupted. He wiped his hand over his face. “Sit down,” he said in a tone of voice that made her obey without question. “Part of the reason that Elizabeth can wear breeches and shirts on deck is because she is my wife and therefore out of bounds to any man. They all know that anyone who makes even the slightest lewd suggestion will be castrated and fed to the sharks. Yes, I have told them that the same applies with regard to you and Rosalie as well. They believe Rosalie is twelve, and her father is on board which also gives her protection, but you are a different matter.”
“Why? My face looks the same whether I wear a dress or breeches. I had hoped that the scar would disfigure me, but unfortunately it’s healed really well,” Beth said ruefully, lifting her hand to the thin silver scar that ran from the corner of her eye into her hair.
To her astonishment Paul started laughing.
“I have never heard a woman express disappointment at not being ugly before,” he said.
“You don’t know how many problems it’s caused me in my life,” Beth replied, smiling in spite of herself at his amusement.
“Listen, I will be honest with you,” he said, once he’d recovered. “I love Elizabeth, but she is not beautiful, in either face or figure. She is very thin, and when dressed in male attire resembles a young boy. Whereas you, my dear Beth, resemble an extremely beautiful young woman with the body of Venus. The male clothes only emphasise how long your legs are, how small your waist and how perfect your breasts, and were I not a monogamous man I would be unable to keep my hands off you. And I am not being denied my conjugal rights for weeks, as my crew are. I cannot allow you to walk around in front of the men dressed like that. It is unfair to them and dangerous to you. I am sorry, but I have to keep discipline and order on my ship, and you are a walking mutiny, because if, or rather when, one of my crew molests you and I throw him overboard, the others will resent that, and you.”
Tides of Fortune (Jacobite Chronicles Book 6) Page 36