An Unlikely Savior

by Camille Oster

  She followed Tomas through a square where there were people gathered around a man shouting something about property being free for all and that the notion of true equality was worth fighting for. Virginie tried to listen, but Tomas didn’t slow his relentless place. She hadn’t really heard any of the revolutionary speeches other than what was discussed by her own class around the supper table. She was curious about what people like this man was saying. They were through the square and down another street before she got the chance to hear much of it.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “There is a boarding house down this part of town. I have stayed there before.”

  “A boarding house?” Virginie repeated. She knew full well that that was where the lowest of the low lived. It was a place of deprivation and poverty as far as she knew. She looked at Tomas like he was a bit mad wanting them to go there.

  “They will rent a room by the night.”

  “We have to stay there?”

  “Do you have any better suggestions?” he said and stopped. He turned to her and she felt the challenge he was placing on her.

  “Why can’t we keep going to the coast?”

  “Because we need to organize your passage here,” he said. “If that is alright with you?”

  “Why are you so angry?”

  He stared at her then softened his gaze a bit. “I am just on edge,” he said. “This is a dangerous town. It is full of soldiers, there is a war in the neighboring town and it’s a powder keg of tension. We have to be very careful. And for your information,” he said with his finger at her clavicle, “I take marriage more serious that most of the men in your class. Probably much more seriously than whoever you will end up marrying. I actually have a care about the nature and the character of the person I will marry, not just the size of their estate. I am actually going to marry someone I want to spend time with, someone I am in love with.” She knew it was a jibe at her.

  “You know full well that I have no say in who I marry.” It was unfair of him to keep attacking her over the issue of her lack of choice and his views on the potential limitations of this man who Tomas had never met. Not all men were like Tomas though. There were good men in the world. She was adamant that both Etienne and her father had made good husbands.

  “Doesn’t that bother you that you have no say in who you are to spend the rest of your life with, the person what you will have children with and avail your body to?”

  “Of course it does, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

  “Object!”

  “And then what, choose to live in squalor as you do?”

  “You can’t have both, you have choice or you have splendor.”

  “Choice and hunger, and suffering. Children with no future and no prospects.”

  “Actually, it is the children of the aristocrats that seem to have a diminished futures wouldn’t you say? They are being stripped of everything if they are allowed to live.”

  “Things will return to the way they were.”

  “You are so arrogant!” he said.

  “I am not arrogant. I just don’t believe that violence achieves anything permanent and real.”

  “Then maybe you are a fool,” he accused. People were looking at them, but neither of them seemed to care.

  “Maybe I am, but I prefer to believe that people will not tolerate violence and brutality.”

  “There are many forms of brutality, and maybe this revolution is the result of people not tolerating it.”

  “I don’t care to hear your justifications,” she said turning her back to him. She’d had enough of his pig headedness and justifications for the atrocious actions that were going on around them.

  “They are not justifications, only explanations.” He stepped closer, and she stepped away. He noticed the action. “I am not going to hurt you.”

  “You seem overly accepting of people who seek to ruin innocent lives.”

  “I am not. This is a revolution, they are nasty and painful, and people die.”

  “It is wrong.”

  “It was just as wrong before, only you didn’t feel it. The world has gone mad, no one knows what to do, but they do not want to go back to where they were.”

  They had come to a bit of a stalemate. Neither of them wished to argue any further. “Come,” he said and urged her to start walking. She started to follow him and felt exhausted with all the tension and fear. She couldn’t help it, but she started crying. Everything was just so awful. The world had gone to complete hell.

  “Don’t,” Tomas warned, but she couldn’t help it, the tears just flowed. He stopped with a groan, then pulled her to him. “I’m sorry,” he said after a while. He held her to him and Virginie let him because she needed to be held. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”

  Virginie stayed in his arms, she needed to feel his strength, someone’s strength. He was so solid next to her and she needed to feel safe for a moment. Someone said something lewd behind them.

  “Move along you syphilitic dogs!” Tomas bit harshly at the men. The comment made her chuckle into his chest. His linen shirt was soft against her cheek.

  “You really are the most charming man I have ever met.”

  “You have led a very secluded life.” He stayed where he was for a minute. “Come, let’s get off the streets.” Virginie nodded, she felt better. She just had to get the awfulness she was feeling out. He was right, now was not the time to fall to pieces.

  Chapter 6

  Tomas pushed over the rough wooden door to a room on the second floor. It took some force for the door to give, but it opened to a tiny dark room, with a small open window. There was no glass in the window, just a lopsided wooden shutter to keep the cold out at night. There was a tiny cot with a straw mattress in the corner, but nothing else in the room.

  “I have to retrieve the horse,” he said. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in.”

  “Can’t I come?” she said not wanting to be left on her own in this place.

  “It’s safer if I go alone. I will only be a half hour.”

  Virginie nodded and watched as he closed the door behind him. She sat down on the cot and waited. There was nothing else to do. The room really was four walls and a cot. She could hear life through the walls. There was a small child wailing somewhere, and a couple fighting further down the building somewhere. Fleas were jumping on her ankles and she shuddered with disgust.

  She felt homesick instantly. It hadn’t really sunk in yet that she wouldn’t be returning home after this odd adventure; instead she was heading off to England, a land unknown and to people unknown. She was too weary to think about it properly. It seemed like a very scary proposition and it overwhelmed her just trying to consider it.

  She tensed up as someone walked past the door outside. They didn’t stop but it only made her feel more vulnerable. It was getting darker and there were no candles to light, she could only sit there and wait.

  It was very dark by the time he returned.

  “I’ve brought some cheese and apples,” he said. “And a candle.” He lit it with a match and placed it on the window sill. It cast a very slight glow around the room, while he tucked his dark hair behind his ear and unfolded the bundle with the cheese and apples.

  Virginie felt no qualms about sleeping next to Tomas anymore.. The cot was tiny, but she had gotten over her reservations. In fact, she would probably be more distressed without him at this point. As much as they argued, she still felt much safer when he was there. She could relax with him there and just let the heat diffuse her sore and weary body.

  They ate the cheese with the bread she had brought from the Tavern, then the apples. They were delicious and crisp, Virginie let the sweetness of them sooth her. Tomas lay down on the cot while he finished his apple.

  “The horse is fine?”

  “I had to leave it, someone had noticed it.”

  “Can we get it tomorrow?”

  “It is safer to leave
it. It will be watched. It could be that someone knows the horse is missing from Angers. People travel from there to Nantes all the time. We can’t risk it.”

  “So how do we continue? We can’t walk to the coast.”

  “We will find a way. There is always a way. We will think on it tomorrow. Where is the satchel with the silver?”

  “Under the bed,” she said.

  “Good, you should sleep. It’s been a long day.” Tomas looked tired too. His eyelids looked heavy. She lay down next to him on the lumpy straw filled mattress. At least it was a mattress; she hadn’t lain on one for a few days, although lying next to Tomas warm body was more comforting than the awful mattress. They had no blanket tonight, so they only had the warmth they could generate between them. She snuggled a little closer than before, feeling the chill in the room at her back.

  She thought back on the day and the things he had said, his assertion in that he had complete choice in who he married. Marriage had always been a merger of interests as far as she had been told; there had never been any other option. His idea that he would marry someone he was in love with was so foreign it seemed improper. Man and wife would learn to care for and respect each other, if they were lucky, else they would avoid each other. That was what she knew. The marriage Tomas sought was something completely different. Aristocratic men were distant in every respect as far as she knew. She couldn’t imagine her husband lying like this on a small cot, which was a shame because she was starting to see the appeal of it. She wondered what kind of marriage Tomas had in mind, how he would deal with his wife.

  He fell asleep before her, but she had trouble settling her mind. There were so many things rushing around in her head, seeking her attention. Finally she lay and watched the man next to her. He had his arm around her shoulder and she lay in the crook of his arm. She could see the features of his face in the soft candle light. His stubble was a little more pronounced along his jaw. He looked very different from Etienne. His features were more pronounced. His jaw a little strong, and his mouth fuller. The gentle curve of his dark lashes sat on his pale skin.

  She returned to the idea of what it would be like to kiss him. They were so close, she could feel the entire length of his body and he scent was all around her. His form was so solid and more male than anything she had ever experienced before. It tugged at something in her, something that felt very at home next to him. Something that made her feel alive.

  His words still echoes around her mind, saying that she could conceivably choose the life she wanted and to choose the person she spent it with as he intended to do. Maybe a person who felt the relationship was more important than the achievements of the marriage itself. She had a new level of respect for Tomas and the things he wanted, but it was an absurd and abstract notion. That was just not how things worked. Perhaps things were different in the worlds he explored, but it was not something that was done in hers. It was an interesting thought though, to actually be loved and desired by the person she was to marry, things she had been taught not to expect at all from anyone let alone her husband. Maybe in England, things were different, maybe she would have a say in who she married. It was a tantalizing thought.

  Virginie woke up because of a noise in the room. Tomas wasn’t next to her, but she knew he was near, she could feel his presence.

  “We need to go,” he said. “I have brought some water. Do you want to wash?”

  She wanted to wash more than anything, but she felt self-conscious doing so with him there. A small bowl had appeared with water in it. Washing meant that she had to strip down to her shift, but he wasn’t making any move to give her privacy. She didn’t know what to do. She also wanted to change her shift to the clean one she had in the satchel, which meant undressing to being completely naked. She felt silly asking him to leave. She had spent the whole night at his side, but then felt uncertain about being seen in her shift, let alone naked. She didn’t want to be left alone, but she couldn’t have him seeing her undressed either.

  He had shaved, she noticed. His chin was smooth. She wanted to know what his chin felt like without the stubble. She felt self-conscious and devastatingly aware of his presence, but she slowly started to take off the dress. She would wash in under her shift at least.

  “You need to hurry,” he said. “We have to leave.” She grabbed the cloth in the bowl and stroked down her skin underneath her shift. The water was ice cold and it made her nipples contract painfully.

  “Are you done?” he finally said and she nodded. He stripped his shirt off in one movement and grabbed the cloth. Virginie dressed, but couldn’t stop her eyes from travelling over to him. His back was to her. Smooth skin covered his strong shoulders and body toned from work. He dipped the cloth back in the water and bathed every part of his upper body. She felt her breath catch and her heart quicken at the sight. When he was finished, he turned and Virginie saw his equally toned chest, the tight abdomen and the thin trail of hair that went lower. She blushed as he knew full well that he had caught her looking.

  It was a very rare occasion that she had seen a man with his shirt off. It would only be the farm laborers in fields in the height of summer, and that was only from a distance. Seeing a man so close in just his skin was a bit more disconcerting. The idea of touching naked skin was even more so. She knew that it formed some part in the relationships between men and women, but it just seemed so forbidden. Beyond the most decadent of luxuries somehow.

  “You ready?” he said pulling his shirt on. Virginie cleared her throat and attempted a smile. She tried to gather her thoughts, but something uneasy stayed with her even as he covered himself and moved toward the cot to pick up his jacket. He grabbed the satchel out from underneath the bed and rummaged through it.

  “It should be sufficient with some to spare,” he said and gave it back to her. “I will go talk to a man I know who can help us with an introduction to the right captain. He is a captain himself although he has no ship at the moment. He can give us the name of a friendly ship.” Virginie nodded.

  “I want to change into my spare shift,” she said with embarrassment coloring her cheeks. Tomas looked at her, but did not move. Virginie felt the awkwardness of the situation and Tomas finally got up. He went and stood in the corner facing away from her.

  “Hurry,” he said, “we have to get moving”.

  Virginie pulled the shift over her shoulders, feeling the cool air on her body as she did. It was a strange feeling being naked in front of a man, even though he couldn’t see her. There was a part of her that wanted him to turn around and see her, wanted him to want her. She had no clear understanding of what happened between men and women, or how they fit together with just their skins touching. It seemed so very decadent and forbidden. They weren’t thoughts she was supposed to have, but these thoughts were heating up her whole body. She didn’t linger in the moment, pulled on the fresh shift and then her dress.

  “I’m ready,” she said as she finished the ties on the dress.

  The morning was chilly outside and there was a slight fog that would lift before long. It was more quite on the streets than the day before. Tomas had no idea what time it was, but he guessed it was early, so they should go about their business before the town woke properly. The fog may lift as the sun gained some strength, but they may be safer in the veils of the fog for now..

  “This way,” he said to the girl who was wrapping her shawl around her head. Her cheeks were still flushed with warmth and sleep. He wanted to let her sleep, but they needed to get going. Lying in bed next to her was torture in the mornings. She had no idea of the charms she tempted him with. He had no privacy to release the tension in him either. Her innocence kept him firmly in check; it shone through her clear eyes when he’d caught her examining him. Her curiosity was not in doubt, however and he had to watch himself or he would catch himself toying with that curiosity. He wasn’t normally attracted to such rare commodities as her innocence, but he couldn’t help it with her. He knew enough of her
curves to know that there would be as much pleasure there as a man could ever wish for. Some man would be lucky enough to mould her into the perfect wife and she may well be sweet enough to want it. He felt a stab of jealousy. He knew that beneath her ignorance, she didn’t mean a soul any harm. She was raised to be protected from the realities of the world, guileless and innocent of the cynicism and bitterness that seemed to have claimed the rest of the world. She was too good for a gutless aristocrat to pawn all over, but that was what she had been raised for.

  For his own sanity, he needed to put her on a ship today. He wanted her safe and would be pleased when she sailed away to safety across the channel. From what he heard, England was still stable and she had family there to take care of her. He wouldn’t send her if he wasn’t assured that she would be safe. The truth was that she was much safer there than she was with him. He couldn’t assure her safety from the people who sought to hurt her, he also wasn’t entirely sure how long she would be safe from him. Her soft, warm body would eventually overwhelm his control if she kept caressing him so sweetly during the night, leaving him a slave to tension and frustration. He was not a saint.

  “Hurry,” he said more sharply than he intended to. She did her best to keep up with him. He stopped at a bakery and purchased a small loaf of bread. Even with the price control, the bread was expensive. He was going to struggle after he put her on a ship, but he would worry about that later.

  They got to the street he sought. He needed to leave her again while he spoke to his friend’s acquaintance. He didn’t know this man well enough to trust him, which meant he couldn’t trust him with any specific knowledge of Virginie. It was safer if she wasn’t there, which made for a bit of a dilemma because she wasn’t safe on the streets either.

  “I am going up there, to talk to a man,” he said as he stopped on one of the side streets. The street looked quiet and there was a good chance that no one would come this way while he discussed the business at hand. “You are to stay here.” He saw the distress in her eyes as he suggested leaving her. “I will be right up those stairs.” Finally she nodded. He watched her draw her courage and he respected her for it. He walked up the wooden stairs to the second floor. This was the address he knew for a man named Jacque Spirer, a man who he knew sailed to the West Indies regularly in the past.