Sibylla and the Privateer

by Marina Oliver

“I would like that, but I will need a stick to walk about,” she laughed.

  “I will carry you. Do not disturb yourself.”

  At that moment Marie knocked and came into the room.

  “Your pardon my lord. I was on my way to answer the bell when Julie told me she had already done so. I brought what you asked for. Really, I do apologize. The girl presumes.”

  “A natural enough curiosity, do you not think? I agree she presumes.” His voice grew hard. “I will speak with her. Now, Mistress Hurst, I will see about that letter. When you have finished your own Marie will bring it to me.”

  * * * *

  After he left, Sibylla wrote her letter. She found difficulty in composing it, feeling it would be dangerous to be too open about Gerard’s activities. At last she was satisfied he would understand her warnings, and went on to give a short account of her own adventures painting Randolph as black as possible, and simply saying of Josselin that he had rescued her, without a word of his privateering.

  She felt her missive vague and unsatisfactory, but decided it would have to do. Gerard would know the main facts, and not be concerned for her.

  After Marie had taken away the letter, Sibylla began to feel restless. She had leisure to examine her room, which was large and hung with magnificent tapestries depicting hunting scenes and furnished with several lavishly decorated pieces of furniture. When she spied an ornamental park from her windows, she wished she was able to walk and explore this house and its grounds.

  When Marie returned, Sibylla began to question her about the house. She found the maid was ready to talk.

  “My master’s father built the Chateau. The old one is nearer the coast, but it is a gloomy, dark and draughty place.”

  “Worse than the caves?” Sibylla shuddered as she recalled her ordeal. “Why does your master use them so?”

  “He has the sea in his blood. His mother’s family were great sailors. He has his own boat, and every so often goes off for a few days. Then, there is so much for him to do about the estate he has found it convenient to stay there at times, for solitude, when he needs to get away from all his cares. He has a great many, for people on the estate expect him to solve all their problems. He is a good landlord, I can tell you!”

  Marie was waxing eloquent, and Sibylla saw how intensely she admired Josselin. She wondered whether the maid was being cautious, or was unaware of the nature of Josselin’s sea ventures. She felt some guilt that she was herself now added to those cares Marie spoke of, but her thoughts were interrupted by the door of her room opening violently. Julie came running in. She seemed distraught, and did not heed Marie’s exclamations and admonishments. She stood in the centre of the room and glared at Sibylla, then began to shout hysterically.

  “You vixen! You have stolen him. I hate you! What right have you to come here? No, Marie, do not push me, have you not heard? I have to be married! I! I am to be turned off and married to Jacques, after all this time! ‘Tis unfair. I shall rather kill myself. I will not be banished to the far end of the estate! ‘Tis five leagues away, too far, and all her fault. I will repay it, do not fear!”

  Stunned, unable to move, Sibylla watched as Marie struggled with the demented girl. Attracted by the noise, other servants came running, and managed to carry her, raving and weeping, out of the room.

  Disheveled, Marie turned with an apology to Sibylla.

  “Mademoiselle! I am so ashamed! What will my lord say? He will be very angry.”

  “What was that all about? Please, Marie, you must tell me. If I am accused of something, I like to know what it is!” Sibylla noted Marie looked embarrassed.

  “Why should the girl object to being married? Is this Jacques an unpleasant fellow, or old, or cruel?”

  “No, no, it is nought to do with Jacques. He is a handsome enough young fellow, and has long wanted Julie as wife. Though why, I cannot tell, for she is a lazy, good for nothing slut who puts on airs until the rest of us could shake her!”

  “Then why, Marie? If she accuses me, have I not a right to know why? If you do not tell me, I shall ask your master.”

  “Oh, no, Mademoiselle, you must not. That you must not do!”

  “Then tell me.”

  Marie sighed, and looked at her unhappily. “Very well. The girl has been favored by my lord, and she begins to presume. I imagine he is tired of her tantrums, and has decided to send her away. She cannot yet accept it, and wants to blame the nearest person. In her madness she chooses you. I am so sorry it happened.”

  Sibylla was silent, her thoughts twisting in confusion. So the girl must have been Josselin’s mistress, which accounted for her air of familiarity earlier. Why should she imagine Sibylla was to blame for her banishment, unless she thought Josselin had found a new mistress? Sibylla’s cheeks flamed suddenly. Was that what they all thought? Was that indeed what he intended? He seemed kind and helpful, but he never hinted what he proposed to do with her. She determined to do her utmost to discover what her fate was to be during supper that night.

  Marie was silently moving about the room, while Sibylla remained lost in her thoughts. They were startled when a knock came on the door. With an anxious look, Marie moved to it, but she came back smiling.

  “My lord sends this dress for you, hoping it might fit you for tonight.” She held out a rose pink taffeta dress. Sibylla gasped as she saw the silver embroidery and the silver gauze underskirt. “He told me you had lost all your baggage, and says he recently had this given to him.” She paused, as if a little puzzled, then shrugged. “Shall we try it on you?”

  Sibylla was only too anxious to do so, and Marie helped her to get into the dress. It was too wide in the waist, but otherwise a good fit. With Marie’s help, Sibylla hopped across the room to view herself in the mirror above the large stone fireplace. She smiled with pleasure as she saw how well the color became her, though she had never before worn a dress that revealed so much of her shapely bosom.

  “I will take it in to fit,” Marie said, busily measuring Sibylla. She was soon busy on the dress, leaving Sibylla to wonder whether Josselin intended to try and seduce her. Fear filled her, for she knew she would not be able to resist him as she had Randolph.

  * * * *

  It was growing dark and the candles were lit when Josselin carried Sibylla down the stairs. She tried to protest she could hop, but he laughingly told her that would be most unbecoming. He swept her up into his arms and carried her slowly down the stairs, through an anteroom and into a superb red and gold dining parlor. Sibylla had never seen anything so magnificent, and it was some time before she could drag her eyes away from the gilded scrollwork, the velvet hangings and the paintings all round the room. Josselin watched her and smiled when she eventually turned to him.

  “You have a magnificent house, from what I have seen,” she said impulsively. “Are all French Chateaux like this?”

  He laughed. “Some of the recently built ones are, but many are dank, uncomfortable fortresses still. I am honored you approve of Chateau Bellegarde, though I cannot claim much of the credit. Most of the building and decoration was done by my parents. Will you be seated?”

  He helped her to a small table which was set beside a fire of sweet-smelling logs. She glanced at the large central table, thankful they were not to be constrained by its formality. She was determined to ask him many questions.

  This design, however, was frustrated by the presence of two footmen who stayed in the room to serve them. Sibylla had imagined she would be served with the sort of meal she had appreciated so much in the caves and last night in her room. She had hoped that if Josselin wanted an intimate meal with her, they would have served themselves, but she soon realized how wrong she had been. The meal was more like a banquet, she thought, as dish after dish was presented to her, and several different wines. It was only when a platter of cheese had been set befor
e them that Josselin told the footmen they might go.

  The conversation had not until now been constrained, due to Josselin’s skill when he had led Sibylla to talk of many things about England, and her family. As soon as the footmen had gone, however, a silence fell. After a moment Sibylla looked up to find him looking oddly at her.

  “What do you intend to do with me?” she asked hurriedly.

  “What would you wish me to do with you?” he countered. When she dropped her gaze to her lap, he laughed softly.

  “I do not understand why you should have taken me prisoner in the first place. Why did you attack our boat? It was obviously just a fishing boat.”

  “Yes, but it was not behaving like a fishing boat and was far nearer the shores of France than your fishing boats normally venture. I was curious, and rightly so, you must agree. When I found you and your unpleasant Randolph aboard, I felt that needed investigating.”

  “Why concern yourself with English affairs?”

  “I am naturally curious, but in that area they might have been affairs of interest to France too. I know we are at peace, but at any time things might change. England is in an unsettled state since Oliver Cromwell died.”

  “Is that why you attack Spanish ships?”

  “We are still at war with Spain, though Mazarin is mightily busy at the moment with his peace negotiations, and the King’s marriage. Besides, they often provide treasure which I cannot resist.” With a smile, he changed the subject. “I have not complimented you on the dress you are wearing. It suits you well, as I thought it would when I saw it in the baggage of the lady who was travelling on the Spanish ship. She had so many, she was glad to present it to me in order to save her others.”

  “Then you did not intend it for Julie?” she asked, looking at him closely.

  He raised his eyebrows. “I do regret that she obtruded herself on your notice. It shall not happen again, I have spoken with her.”

  “You have married her off to one of your tenants, I believe. Is that the usual way you get rid of your mistresses?”

  “When they are of Julie’s sort, yes,” he replied calmly.

  “Why did you dismiss her?”

  “I am flattered you are so interested in my doings. She became tedious.”

  “You are cruel to her. She loves you.”

  “No, she loved the privileges she obtained as my mistress.”

  “And who is to take her place?” Sibylla asked, not daring to look at him.

  He laughed. “Are you afraid I mean to put you there?” he asked. She trembled. “My answer is no. I had not thought of that.”

  Sibylla felt an unreasonable glow of anger at his words then chided herself that she should be relieved. Before she could answer he continued.

  “However if you think that it would do, and are offering yourself to me, I will by all means consider it. You are beautiful, after all, if somewhat inexperienced, but that could be remedied.”

  Sibylla, forgetting her ankle, stood up angrily and almost fell as she put her weight on the injured foot. Josselin sprang up, and caught her to him as he steadied her. With one arm around her waist, he tilted her chin with his hand until she was looking at him and bent to bring his lips close to hers.

  “Is that what you want, my little Sibylla?”

  She looked at him, feeling helpless in his arms, and slowly managed to shake her head. Smiling, he released her, and she sat down again.

  “It would be more in character if I were to hold you for ransom, would it not? How much do you think you are worth? That would not do though for not even the richest man in the world could pay that sum. How much can your family afford? I take it for granted they would wish to have you restored to them?”

  She breathed deeply. “I wish you would not mock me so. My family will be most anxious although they are not rich. Still, I beg of you to send me home.”

  She blinked hard to prevent the tears from falling, and suddenly found her hands clasped in his. She looked then to find him kneeling beside her.

  “Do not distress yourself. I am not as heartless as you think.”

  Then as he lifted his head and listened, Sibylla heard the sound of an altercation outside the door. As Josselin stood up and moved towards it, a footman almost fell in, stammering he had tried to tell the Captain my lord was engaged and could see no one.

  Someone roughly pushed the man aside. Sibylla, wide eyed, saw a soldier march into the room, followed by four more.

  “The Marquis de St. Aubin, I understand?” he barked.

  Josselin laughed. “Do not be so absurd, Louis. Did we not fight together many times? What do you want of me? I will excuse your bad manners in bursting in on me and my guest in such a fashion. Pray be seated.”

  “No, I thank you.” The other looked somewhat ashamed and at a disadvantage beside Josselin’s suavity. Josselin shrugged, and dropped into a chair.

  “Then I trust you will not object if I sit. What is this urgent business?”

  “I am here to investigate what you have been doing for the past month. Your letter of marque was cancelled in the cause of peace with Spain, yet there are complaints that a Spanish vessel was attacked some days since and it sounded like your crew. If this is so, Josselin, I must arrest you in the King’s name. We cannot afford a quarrel with Spain now.”

  “That would indeed be unfortunate,” Josselin murmured.

  “Where have you been? I know you have been out in your boat, but all the people around, as usual, are plaguey uncommunicative when talking about you.”

  “Oh yes, I have been sailing. You know it is my passion; but this time I combined it with an extra pleasure. I brought Mistress Hurst here from England. May I introduce Mistress Hurst to you? Captain Montjoie, Mistress Hurst.”

  The Captain, whose eyes had been straying curiously and appreciatively towards Sibylla, took the opportunity to look closer, and bent to kiss the hand she extended.

  “Your servant, Mademoiselle. So you came from England with Josselin?”

  “I did.”

  “Did you come straight here?”

  “We cruised about for a few days, the weather was so perfect.”

  “Forgive my asking, but I must. Did you see any Spanish ships?”

  “I cannot tell the difference. I am no expert. We saw some ships, yes, but would we not expect to do so?” She looked innocently into the Captain’s face, and then smiled warmly at him. He swallowed, and pressed her hand that he was still holding. When she smiled more deeply and gently withdrew it, he flushed with embarrassment, coughing to hide it as he reluctantly turned away to find Josselin regarding him with an air of amusement.

  “She is lovely, is she not? I am pleased to have my judgment confirmed by such a noted connoisseur as yourself. Now, if you are satisfied, I will escort you to the door.”

  Collecting his dignity, and taking a hurried if regretful leave of Sibylla, the Captain and his comrades departed. It was some minutes before Josselin returned, smiling gaily.

  “I apologize for Louis’s ineptness. He’s never had much of a way with women. Perhaps that is why you did not betray me when you had such a perfect opportunity? Whatever the reason, I thank you for your conspiracy. Does that mean you wish to become the partner of a privateer?”

  “No indeed! I cannot think why I did not tell him all about you!”

  “All?” He looked at her in amusement. “I knew you would not betray me, but I give you thanks all the same. Now it is time for bed.”

  He picked her up before she realized what he was about, and she began to struggle. He held her closely.

  “Do not mistake me. I do not intend to remain with you once I have assisted you to your room.”

  Furious with herself for having betrayed her fears, Sibylla subsided. When he gave her into Marie’s c
are, wishing her a brief goodnight, she realized she still knew nothing of his intentions.

  Chapter Seven

  Sibylla struggled to wakefulness the next morning as the sounds of screams came from the corridor outside her room. She rubbed her eyes and saw it was very early, barely light. When the screams went on, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. Testing her ankle cautiously, finding she could hobble with only a little pain, she crossed the room and pulled the door open. The door opposite was open, and a fantastic scene met her startled eyes.

  The girl Julie, in her shift, was crouched on the floor screaming, her hands covering her eyes, while Josselin, dressed in a white shirt and riding breeches, was standing above her. He had a riding whip in his hand, and as Sibylla watched, horrified, he brought it down on the girl’s back, causing her to intensify her screams. Several other servants stood around, but none made any attempt to intervene.

  “Stop! What are you doing? Josselin! Leave her alone!” Sibylla cried as she hobbled across the corridor and into the room. Josselin did not glance at her, but Marie stepped forward and caught her arm.

  “You cannot prevent him, Mademoiselle, it is within his rights; but I have never before seen him so angry!”

  Julie had collapsed on the floor, sobbing and groaning.

  “Well, how did he escape? What other help did you give him?” Josselin demanded. “Answer me unless you desire more of the whip!”

  She screamed again, and began to babble unintelligible words. He bent down and heaved her into a chair. She winced as her sore back came into contact with it.

  “Tell me calmly and fully. When did you release him, and what further help did you give him?”

  “ ‘Twas after you were abed,” the girl sobbed, more coherently now. “After I came to you and you threw me out. I was angry, jealous, and I thought to pay her back.” She threw a venomous glance at Sibylla.

  “Go on,” Josselin ordered, inflexibly.

  “I got a horse and gold for him and gave him directions how to avoid the villages,” she went on, sullenly now.

  “Where was he heading for?”