She reminded herself of the failure with Randolph, told herself not to trust handsome men, and repeated that she had proven herself to be a fool. So intent was she in chastising herself she did not hear Josselin’s question, and he had to repeat it.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked, confused, and he repeated it again.
“What are you thinking, that you are so silent?”
Sibylla blushed furiously, thankful the darkness hid her face.
“Oh, I was wondering what is to become of me,” she said, after a pause.
“Can you not live for the moment? It is pleasant sailing along, is it not, especially in such good company. I am content.”
“You chose this way. I did not!” She turned impulsively towards him, and her heel caught on a loose piece of rope. She felt herself falling, an instant before his strong arms wrapped around her as she was crushed against him, her face buried in his shirt. She felt his lips brush the top of her head lightly before he released her. It had all happened so swiftly she wondered if she had imagined that caress.
“I must reprimand whoever left that rope loose,” he said lightly. “I trust you are not hurt?”
“No, I thank you,” she replied breathless, her heart pounding from the urgent desire that had been born in her from their contact.
“I promise you I will not need to keep you my prisoner for much longer. I hope to return home soon, and then I will endeavor to make suitable arrangements for you.”
She began to ask more questions, but realized he was not listening. His attention had been caught by something in the distance, and as she faltered to a stop, he turned back to her.
“Mistress Hurst, I regret, but I must ask you to return to the cabin. I am sorry our stroll has been curtailed, and I promise we will enjoy a longer one tomorrow.”
* * * *
Astounded, she allowed him to lead her back to the cabin, her thoughts in a whirl as he left her. Had she offended him? Did he think her fall was deliberately engineered? Did he, horrors, despise her for such a contrivance? Had she, indeed, imagined the light kiss?
Her puzzlement was interrupted by the activity she heard above. There were no loud shouts, but the crew was obviously busy. The ship began to move faster and changed direction. They sailed swiftly and then, startling Sibylla, she heard a gun fired.
She realized the pirates were about to attack another ship and found herself terrified Josselin would be hurt or captured. Even the prospect it might be an English ship that could rescue her made no difference. She spent the next hour alternately pacing the cabin and trying to see what was happening.
Eventually there were shouts and the ship bumped slightly as it came alongside the other. After an agonizing interval during which Sibylla imagined the fighting that was taking place and despaired of ever seeing Josselin again, she felt them casting off. Looking out of the porthole she saw behind them as they drew away a large ungainly bulk of a ship.
A few minutes later Josselin appeared in the doorway. It was all Sibylla could do to restrain herself from rushing over to him.
“I hope you are not alarmed,” he said, and she spluttered with indignation. “There was work for us to do. I came to deposit these.”
He stepped inside, and gestured to the men who followed him. They entered, and Sibylla watched wide eyed as they deposited several swords and some pistols in another of the cupboards. Then they fetched some heavy small sacks whose contents jingled suggestively. Josselin laughed as he noticed her expression.
“Just a few items the Dons were pleased to give us. Shall we say a form of tribute? I hope it will not disturb you to have them in here with you?”
He smiled, bade her goodnight and left the cabin. She undressed and tried to sleep, but it was impossible, her thoughts were in such turmoil.
Chapter Five
Josselin did not appear early the next day, nor did Sibylla have her usual daytime stroll on deck. It was late in the afternoon when Jean came down to the cabin to say that the captain wished to see her on deck.
“We are nearing land,” he told her as they went up.
She hurried and looked round eagerly when she reached the deck. They were sailing along a rocky, much indented coastline on the port side, and the sun, low in the sky behind them, sent a gleaming path of light across the waves towards the shore. Sibylla could distinguish several villages scattered along the shore in bays or the estuaries of rivers, and on the cliff tops there were the forbidding shapes of castles and fortified manor houses.
She stared for a long time, realizing how she had missed the sight of land. She was unaware Josselin had come alongside her until he spoke softly.
“I hope you like my home, Mistress Hurst.”
She looked up at him, and smiled at the pride in his voice. “It is indeed beautiful, but where is it, I pray you?”
He laughed, boyishly. “There is no harm in your knowing now. I could not risk it before in case of some accident that would prevent me from bringing you here. The south coast of Brittany, a wild and rugged land but beautiful, and kind to those who love and understand it.”
“How soon shall we land?”
“In about an hour. Would you care to remain here?”
“Indeed, yes! I hunger for the sight of grass and trees.”
“You will not be disappointed,” he murmured, before he left her to supervise the crew. She stayed watching the coast slip by, and marveled at the variety of it, the high cliffs, the wide sandy beaches and the inlets with no end and divided the land into many islands.
At length they made for one of these inlets, and with the minimum of sail, carefully negotiated the winding passage. After a few hundred yards Sibylla looked back, but the sea had vanished. They sailed on a long narrow inland lake, bounded on either side by high cliffs that cut off the rays of the sun. For much of the way the cliffs fell sheer to the water, but there were a few places where there was a tiny beach, or a tangle of bushes clinging to the foot of the cliffs. Sibylla could see no signs of habitations, and no paths that led to the tops of the cliffs.
When they drew to the side of the river, she was puzzled until she saw a ledge of rock that made a natural landing stage. The crew secured the boat, and Sibylla found Josselin at her side.
“Will you please collect your belongings from the cabin? We leave the boat here.”
“We leave? But how?”
He laughed. “You will see.”
She felt that her life was moving back into the dreamlike days when she first came onto this boat, but obediently she went to collect her few possessions. Jean was waiting to carry them for her, and when she again reached the deck, she saw the men had unloaded several boxes onto the rocks. Josselin was directing them and glanced briefly at her as Jean helped her across the narrow gangplank onto the platform.
“I hope we shall meet again sometime, Mademoiselle,” the young man said, and Sibylla looked at him in alarm.
“Are you not staying? Oh, what is happening?”
“You will see. Only the captain and his servant stay here, the rest of us take the boat further up the river to where she can be secured safely, then those of us who are not needed disperse to our homes.”
“I see. Yes, I do hope we shall meet again. You have been so kind to me.”
She held out her hand, and he bent low over it, kissing it fervently. Then he straightened, and smiled at her.
“Somehow, I feel confident this is not goodbye.”
Josselin came over then, and clapped Jean on the back. “Come, you are delaying the boat with your passionate avowals to Mistress Hurst.”
Jean laughed and ran up the gangplank, turning to wave at Sibylla from the top. Then she caught sight of a familiar figure, and froze in dismay.
* * * *
Randolph, his hands tied behind hi
m, was being led across the deck by the man who normally served her in the cabin. As she watched, they crossed the plank. Randolph saw her immediately and she shrank from the vicious glare he directed at her. He stopped as he reached her, but the man behind him told him roughly to move and emphasized his command by prodding him in the back with a pistol. As they moved towards the cliff, Sibylla could see a small opening. It was obviously larger than it seemed, for they disappeared through it and Josselin, having cast off the rope that secured the Falcon, turned to her and indicated they were to follow.
Nervously she stepped forward. He took her arm reassuringly, giving her confidence. Beyond the entrance was a short passage, lit dimly from outside, but also illuminated by the glow of candles ahead. After a few steps, the passage widened into a small cave lit by several candles stuck in bottles. Sibylla gazed around in wonder. There were several passages leading from the cave, and Randolph and his guard were disappearing down one of them. Josselin led Sibylla after them. She had a confused impression of many other passages leading off that one, and several wide openings she assumed were other caves.
Eventually they came to a large cave, and here Sibylla had another surprise, for it was furnished with tables and benches and there was a vast chest to one side. Here Randolph and the guard were awaiting them.
“Release his bonds, Pierre. He will, I am sure, be sensible now. Keep your pistol on him.”
Pierre moved to untie the cords round Randolph’s wrists, and Randolph stood for a moment flexing them. Sibylla remembered the agonizing pain in her own wrists when she had been tied up, but she could see these cords had been tied loosely, though none the less efficiently, and had not cut into the flesh as hers had done.
Randolph glared at Josselin. “What do you intend to do with us, master pirate?” he demanded. “Where are my belongings you stole? Are you not aware France and England are at peace and such baseless attacks will not be tolerated? Piracy is a crime, and by heaven, I shall see you are punished fittingly for your actions!”
“I wonder just how you will do that?” Josselin asked with quiet amusement. “I have committed no act of piracy. I hold the King’s letter of marque, and mistook your boat for a Spanish one. The fact I removed you and this lady may not be a crime. It depends on the circumstances, and I have brought you here to tell me of those. I think your own actions can do with some explaining. What were you doing on that boat?”
Randolph turned to Sibylla. “Has he touched you? Are you hurt?”
“No, he has been most courteous, more so than you were,” she replied. She could not keep the anger out of her voice.
His eyes narrowed, and he looked from her to Josselin and back. “So! That is how matters stand. What have you told him about me?”
“I have not discussed you.”
“You lie! I have no doubt you have been concocting lies!”
“How dare you? I have no need to invent things to blacken you! Your own actions are sufficient!” He sneered disbelievingly.
“You imagine you have found a richer fool to protect you now, do you? Strumpet, I will see to it... “
He did not have time to say what he would do, for Josselin’s fist flashed out and caught him on the jaw. He dropped soundlessly to the ground. Grim faced, Josselin picked up a jug that stood on the table and dashed the contents into his face. Randolph groaned, and opened his eyes.
“I do not permit scum such as you to abuse a lady,” Josselin said softly. “I was mistaken when I thought you could be civilized. Pierre, tie him up again and put him elsewhere. I will question him later.”
He waited while Randolph’s wrists were tied, and he was led away, groaning, his cheek already puffy. Then he turned to Sibylla.
“I am sorry you were subjected to insult.”
“It is no matter. Thank you for avenging me.”
He looked at her closely. She was obviously distressed.
“Will you sup with me, Mistress Hurst?” he asked formally, and when she looked up at him, surprised, smiled with real understanding in his eyes.
“Then we are to stay here?” she asked, a catch in her voice. He nodded.
“We will go to a more elegantly furnished apartment,” he told her. “I am sorry for the primitive conditions, but I am afraid it is all I can offer you for a day or so. I have further business to attend to, and you will be safer hidden here until I can devote all my attention to you.”
“Thank you,” she said, accepting the invitation, though she wondered briefly what he would do if she refused.
He led her through yet more passages, until they came to a small, brightly lit cave furnished with couches and low tables. A man was waiting there, and he greeted Josselin formally.
“Welcome, my lord. I received your message.”
“Thank you, Robert. We will serve ourselves. You may go. Are the bedchambers prepared?”
“Yes, my lord, and Marie is waiting.”
* * * *
Sibylla had time to see that the table was laid for two and a large number of dishes stood on side tables. She wondered how a message could have been conveyed for all this to have been prepared. As soon as the servant withdrew she asked.
“Whenever I am away, someone from my household watches from a spot on the cliffs and we can signal. We did this while we were still out at sea.”
“Why do you not go home at once?”
“I have business. I do not wish the neighborhood to be aware of my return for a day or so, and I have you to consider. You will be safer here, as I have said. I hope you do not mind the thought of spending a day or so in the caves? You will be well guarded, and there is a small beach that can be reached only from the caves, where you may spend the day.”
“What do you intend for me?”
He surveyed her in some amusement. “What would you wish?”
“To go home, of course,” she answered indignantly.
“Your home, tell me about it. Where in England do you live?”
When she began to describe the Devon countryside to him, he listened intently, prompting her when she paused, asking questions and making comments. All the while he offered her the delicious food and poured their wine. They went on to talk of many other things. Such was his charm and skill Sibylla forgot her unusual surroundings and the odd position she was in, and thoroughly enjoyed herself.
She only came to realization of it when the meal was finished and he stood up, smiling.
“Now you must sleep. Come, I will show you your bedchamber. Marie, one of my more sensible maids, is waiting for you, and will sleep there too. I shall be but a short distance away, Pierre and Robert also. Your erstwhile companion is locked away, and there is no need to fear him.”
She looked at him gratefully, and trustingly followed him down a short passage leading to another small cave which was furnished with a bed and a couch and two tables. A pleasant faced, plump woman was sitting on the couch sewing. She jumped up when they came in.
“Marie, this is Mistress Hurst. Look after her well, I trust you.”
She bobbed a curtsy and smiled at Sibylla.
“Good night, Mistress Hurst,” he said formally, and was gone. Sibylla felt bereft and almost called after him to come back, but restrained herself in time and turned to submit to the maid’s expert and soothing ministrations. Soon she was in bed, with Marie curled up on the couch. She wondered what was going to happen next. Almost she was content, for Randolph was securely held, and while he was a prisoner, Gerard was relatively safe. Somehow she would escape herself and make her way to Jersey and warn Gerard.
She was almost ready to confide in Josselin, convinced he would help her. On this comforting thought she fell asleep.
When she awoke, and Marie brought breakfast, Sibylla asked if her master was available. She needed to speak with him.
“Why, no, Mademoiselle, he left hours ago. He told me not to disturb you. He will be back late tonight. Now, would you wish to go to the beach? It is pleasant there, for the sun is warm for the time of year, and the beach is sheltered. Besides, it’s gloomy in here, however well these caves are furnished, with no daylight ever coming in. Shall I fetch Robert? He is to take you whenever you say.”
Sibylla agreed, and Robert soon appeared. Marie asked if there was aught Sibylla wanted until dinner time.
“I will bring dinner out to you. You will enjoy it there,” she promised. Sibylla found the truth of this after she spent time exploring the little beach, which was small but fascinating, with rock pools and the flowers and plants that grew in them. Sibylla spent a long time watching the tiny fish in the clear water and some crabs making their ungainly progress across the sand. Then she simply lay in the sun, enjoying the warmth in this sheltered spot.
Marie appeared, and Sibylla tried to coax her and Robert, who had spent the morning sitting on a rock near the cave entrance whittling away at a piece of wood, to join her in the simple meal, but they refused, laughing.
“It is not fitting, Mademoiselle,” Marie told her. They firmly sat themselves down some distance away. In between jumping up to enquire whether she herself needed aught, they ate their own meal.
“I shall be going to the house now, to prepare your evening meal. Is there aught I can do for you before I go?” Marie asked as she was packing the remains of the meal into her basket.
“No, thank you. Shall I be spending another night here?”
Marie shrugged. “I do not know. When the master comes back, he will tell us, but in any event, your meal must be prepared, and if you are to have it here, we will bring it.”
Sibylla watched her go, lay down again in the sun and dozed for a while. She was roused by the sound of an argument and sat up in alarm to see Pierre standing beside Robert, and Randolph surveying her with some amusement.
Sibylla and the Privateer Page 6