“No!” Virginie said. She hadn’t expected Mavis to turn so vitriolic on the news. “He has sailed for the Americas.”
“So he has left you?” Mavis said with a snort.
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the study,” Charles said calmly. Virginie followed him into his study, the private area where they were generally not allowed. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect from this conversation. She had known him to yell, but she should probably expect it.
“Obviously you cannot go to this man. I could not condone such a match,” Charles said calmly. “I would be completely remiss in my duties if I let you harbor such an affection. I understand that Lieutenant Morecomb might not be to your taste, and that is unfortunate as he seems to be a splendid man, but you will recover from these feelings. I know they feel very compelling when you are young, but they are misplaced, you do understand that, don’t you?”
Virginie knew he could not support her in what she had to do, but she also knew that she wasn’t asking his permission.
“I am aware,” Virginie said. She knew that her uncle would stand in her way, so if she were to go, she would do it on her own. She let out a shuddering breath. She had made a monumental decision and she couldn’t be more certain. All the insidious tension and worry had left her. She felt the peace that came with knowing she was doing what she had to do. She was going after Tomas. She let her feelings for him flood back into her along with the hope that he might actually end up being hers if she did this. She knew that her feelings for him were more than just a youthful attachment. It wasn’t really a question of if, it was when.
“You are so much like your mother,” Charles said. He hadn’t really mentioned her mother before. Virginie had assumed that he didn’t want to talk about her. She also didn’t quite know what he meant. “We all thought she had lost her mind when she set her mind on a Frenchman. She had decided it was him and nothing would stop her, even him I suspect. Turned out he was a Marquis. Weren’t we surprised when we found out.”
“Did she go after my father?”
“No, not as such, but she knew he was the one for her before he did. He was just some obscure Frenchman, here visiting someone, I can’t recall who, but your mother saw him and that was it.”
“I never knew that.”
“It is a shame you never knew her,” he said a little wistfully.
“I know your father cared for her deeply, but I don’t think he completely approved of her directness,” Charles said. She could tell that there was some sadness there. Perhaps there had been some unhappiness in her parents’ marriage. Virginie wondered if that was why her father had told her so little about her mother. He had certainly emphasized her obedience. She was quite sure he would strenuously disapprove of her actions if he was here.
Hearing of the forthrightness of her mother only made her more comfortable in her decision. She felt like her mother would approve of the decision she was making. It bolstered her confidence and her spirit.
Mavis didn’t forgive her; she refused to speak to her the next day. Sarah was more circumspect.
“Are you sure your feelings for this man aren’t misplaced?” Sarah asked as they were tending to some of the buds in the garden.
“No,” Virginie said with a smile. She’d asked herself that so many times over the last few months, trying to convince herself that it was the case. Perhaps she was completely insane, but she didn’t care at the moment.
“And you think he loves you?”
“Yes.”
“That is an awful predicament. A forbidden love, it is quite romantic, but comprehensively foolish,” Sarah put down her secateurs. “I am so lucky with Simon. I thought you would find the same happiness with Raymond. I am very sorry it didn’t suit. He would make a splendid husband.”
“Perhaps if things had been different, but for now my heart is engaged elsewhere.”
Sarah put her hand on Virginie’s arm in sympathy. Virginie was going to miss Sarah. Sarah’s cool manner and steady personality had become a great source of comfort for Virginie. She wished she would have Sarah with her on this journey she was about to make, or at least being able to discuss it with her, but it would put her in an unfair predicament.
Virginie knew that Bristol was the closest port, but there was much better chance of securing passage in Liverpool. She only had her confirmation necklace to bargain with and if it weren’t enough to purchase passage, she would be in great trouble. She also knew that her Uncle would be obliged to look for her and he may likely assume that she would travel to Bristol.
She would have to pick her time to go and it would have to be a point where she would get a few hours head start before they suspected that she had absconded.
The opportunity came a couple of weeks later, when her uncle had to go to the village for business. Sarah was having tea with a childhood friend and Mavis had taken to bed with a headache. She left a note saying she was very sorry to disappoint them, but had taken the only action she felt was right for her.
The timing was perfect for getting the mail coach to Birmingham. She had some money to cover the trip to Liverpool left from shopping trips both here and in London. She felt bad taking it, but she promised herself that she would repay them.
She snuck out of the house shortly before midday and ran across the fields to the road where the mail coach travelled. She reached it just in time and they had room for a passenger. She couldn’t help feeling the excitement running through her body. She felt like she was undertaking something monumental, and perhaps she was.
She was constantly looking back to see if anyone was chasing down the coach, but no one came. There was one point when a carriage came upon them quickly, but it passed without any incident.
She had to change coaches in Birmingham, where she found one travelling to Liverpool that ran through the night. In was a very uncomfortable ride and the coach was full, leaving a hot and stuffy atmosphere inside. As soon as she got on the coach, she knew it would be too late to return. They would know she was gone by now.
She didn’t sleep much throughout the long ride, but she arrived close to midday the following day. It wasn’t hard to find the port. She’d made the decision to travel very light. If she’d learnt anything about getting about in the world, it was the value of a quick getaway.
The port was neither far away nor difficult to find. The customs office again seemed to be a hive of activity around the docks. She was sure she would find someone to tell her what to do.
“I need to travel to New Orleans,” she said stopping a clerk who was dashing around the huge customs hall.
“You won’t find a ship here that sails to New Orleans,” he said. “The closest thing you would find is ship that sails to Charleston, Nassau maybe. Jerry,” he called to another man, “this woman wants to go to New Orleans.”
“That’s Spanish territory, you won’t be getting there from here. Best thing to do would be to go to Charleston and cross over to the Mississippi. It will be a uncomfortable journey, you do know that?” Jerry said as he looked up from a book he was busy writing in.
Virginie had a vague recollection about it passing to the Spanish, but she didn’t know the details.
“My husband is there.”
“Any ships sailing to Charleston?” the first clerk asked Jerry.
“There is the Havias, but she would give you a rough voyage. There is the Montgomery, that would be a better ship. Scheduled to sail on the evening tide. It’s always better to go with the short notice ships, they’re cheaper. If they have room, they will take just about any price.”
Virginie decided that it was best to convert her necklace to money, and the multitudes of stores along the port didn’t make it hard to find people who wanted it. They didn’t look surprised to see her when she walked in. Her accent gave away her origin and she was likely not the first French woman to come pawning some family jewellery in this English port.
It was a very nice gold necklac
e, but she wasn’t stupid enough to take the first price she got, which was lucky because she got an offer that was double as much at another store. In the end, she sold the necklace for 15 pound sterling worth of coins. It was very heavy in her purse and she guarded it carefully, the streets were full of pickpockets and she was not going to fall prey again.
She found the Montgomery and asked to see the Captain. A Scottish man demanded to know what she wanted.
“I am looking for passage to Charleston.”
“You French?” he asked eyeing her up. He had clear perceptive eyes and seemed to read her history from looking at her.
“Yes,” she said trying to keep her voice steady. “I am joining my husband.”
“You’ve just arrived from France?”
“Yes,” she lied. He considered her.
“Twenty pounds,” he said.
“Twenty pounds!” she repeated with astonishment. She felt instantly deflated until she remembered what the clerk had said. Since he offered her passage, he obviously had space. “Seven pounds,” she countered.
He seemed to consider it for a while, but Virginie refused to back down or quiver under his scrutiny. “Ten,” he finally said and she nodded. He nodded toward a boy who took her downstairs to a cabin that wasn’t much more than the one she had shared with Tomas when they had sailed from France. She wished desperately that he was with her, but she had no choice but to do this on her own. She wasn’t sure how long this would take, but she would be much happier sharing the experience with Tomas. For now, she had to content herself with the fact that she would see him at the end of this.
Chapter 17
Virginie arrived in New Orleans after long weeks at sea and a uneventful, but jarring journey to the Mississippi river. The heat of the place was difficult to tolerate in her dress made for cold English winter weather, but she had nothing else. Her bargaining with the Captain of the Montgomery had left her with five pounds. She didn’t want to spend any of it on new clothes as it was more important to get to her destination.
Charleston had been bustling with activity, but she only stayed long enough to organize a way to get to New Orleans. Apparently there was an attributory to the Mississippi river just beyond the borders of South Carolina, she was told. She managed to find a coach that was heading that way. It sounded like a simple journey but it was horrendous and it took a whole week down roads she wasn’t fully convinced could claim the name of being a road. The further away from the coast they got, the rougher the roads became. Deep ruts made for a slow and arduous trip.
The trip down the river had been heaven in comparison. She finally arrived at the river, which didn’t look particularly large at the place where the boats going south were moored. The boat was large and driven by sails and it provided smooth and calm sailing all the way down. She was given a reasonably sized cabin and even the help of a servant if she required. Sailing down the river made for slow and uneventful days, with the only interruption being the stops at the various towns along the way. The ship took passengers, goods and mail down along the river and the various settlements along it.
She hadn’t been able to orient herself properly in this new land, but she recognized that it was got warmer further south she headed. The sun was so much stronger here than at home and much stronger than in England. Everything was so bright in lush in comparison. It really was another world from the one she was used to. There were none of the familiar architecture or structures. The land was so vast, she could not fathom it and the further along the river they went, the less people there were.
She knew she was getting close when she started to hear more French along the river. The familiarity of her language was soothing. She had stopped speaking French with her English family as soon as her English was conversant enough, but it was comforting to hear her own language. It made it seem a little less foreign.
She saw the Frenchness as soon as she stepped off the boat in New Orleans. For being under Spanish control, there was very little evidence of it. French was spoken everywhere. There was the odd English, but mostly French. She saw French women walking the streets and French shops serving all manner of goods, even things she recognized from Paris. The fashion was somewhat different, light gauzy material to cope with the steamy heat of the place.
The smells were different and it looked nothing like France. The architecture was completely different. There was construction everywhere. The city was apparently growing, although she saw evidence of a fire as well. It was different from how she’d imagined, the accounts she’s been given growing up had been of a wild and savage land full of pirates and all manners of undesirables. But she also knew that it was a utopia to some, stripped of the unbending rules that governed European society. She knew this was the reason Tomas had come here.
She noted that there didn’t appear to be any poor. There were no street urchins eyeing up her lightening purse, but there were slaves which marred the perfect picture of Utopia as some saw these new lands. It didn’t feel like Utopia to her at that particular moment. Her dress was much too warm and she felt sweat running down her back underneath the inappropriately heavy material. She felt in dire need of a bath. She saw priests too, which was very encouraging because it had been years now since she’d seen the kind but distant man that had presided over their Mass. She didn’t know what had happened to him, but he had been chased away along with all the religious orders.
She saw a tavern, which looked like many she had seen in France. She wondered if Tomas had stopped there, or even better, was there at that moment.
She wasn’t going to waste time gawking at this town that may be her new home. Her purpose was to find Tomas, but the town looked ominously large now. She just wanted for find him. As interesting as it was to be there, she was exhausted. The journey had been long and she hadn’t truly relaxed the entire way. She just wanted to see him. The big question in her mind was if he was going to accept her. He could reject her completely. She hadn’t planned for that eventuality.
She didn’t know how to find him. She was too scared to approach the official offices of the town. She knew this was officially Spanish controlled territory, and she didn’t know what that meant, if they objected to more French people coming off the boats. She also didn’t want to risk being told to leave or if it turned out to be the case that there was some sort of official support of the revolution back in France. While everything looked calm and normal, she was too cautious to trust it outright. She had heard that any émigrés out of France had been labelled as enemies of France and that they had lists of people who were suspected of Emigrating. If she hadn’t officially been an outlaw in France when she left, she was now.
Virginie entered the tavern she had seen and started asking people if they had seen Tomas Sanbonne. She had no luck at first, but she kept trying. She had no choice. It took her two days but she found a man who’d met him. Tomas had worked with one of the builders for a while, but had then headed north to the Bayous. Apparently all the mills were up that way.
Tomas looked up from the log he was splitting, having driven another wedge into the log. It wasn’t the first time he’s seen Virginie’s countenance on a passing stranger. His mind would at times torture him for his decision to put so much distance between them. The pain of it only drove him harder. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to achieve. He’d left New Orleans for the Bayous. There were more opportunities up here and the rewards were greater. The living was harder and the work was back breaking, but it paid well. He was going to start his own business, he just hadn’t figured it all out yet.
The woman’s countenance wasn’t changing. She’d just stepped out of a carriage and looking around while she beat the dust out of her dress. An unusual dress for these parts. He realized that it wasn’t just his mind; this woman actually looked like her. There weren’t that many women up this way as they preferred to stay closer to comforts and amenities of New Orleans. She looked straight at him. It took him a moment to realize th
at it actually was her. He let the axe drop down on the log. Only when she started walking toward him did he really understand that Virginie was here and she was walking toward him. He didn’t quite trust what his eyes were telling him.
“What are you doing here?” he asked when she made it over to him. He still couldn’t quite understand what had just happened. He’d been resigned to never seeing her again and here she was. She looked beautiful, but her face was a little drawn. “Is something wrong?”
“I wasn’t happy in England,” she said. He looked around to see who else was with her.
“Are you alone? Did you travel alone!?” he demanded with astonishment.
“Yes,” she said looking up at him as he still stood on the large log.
“What do you mean you travelled alone? It is dangerous, you can’t travel alone. Did you travel without a chaperone? What have you done, Virginie?” he said jumping down off the log. She had completely ruined her reputation travelling here. The enormity of it just hit him. She’d travelled across the Atlantic alone. She’d been in New Orleans completely on her own.
“I told them we were married and I was joining you. I’m fine.”
“But we’re not married, Virginie. No one back in Europe will accept you travelling to America alone. Your reputation cannot recover from this. How are you supposed to marry?”
“Well, I had better not go back then. I came to be with you,” she said. “I missed you and I want to be here with you.”
He’d dreamt of her saying exactly that on a number of occasions. Hearing her actually say it sent goose bumps up the skin of his arms. He still wouldn’t let himself believe it.
“Virginie,” he said softly. “I still have nothing to offer you. You should marry some rich man who can keep you in a mansion somewhere.”
An Unlikely Savior Page 18