June Francis

by Convenient Wife Rebel Lady

  Despite the earliness of the hour, some of the English soldiery who had delayed leaving Amiens were on the march. Jack exchanged greetings with two or three of them and whiled away an hour, listening to some of their soldiers’ tales. Then their ways parted as Jack wished to make better time. They had travelled some distance before Philippe began to call out questions to Anna in French. She was relieved that the boy had come to life at last, but could not answer all his questions and told him so. ‘You must seek answers from your father.’ He hesitated to do so, but Jack had already heard the questions and flung answers over his shoulder.

  As they approached Arras they could see the cathedral and the towers of several buildings soaring into the sky inside the city walls. It was late afternoon and their journey had passed without incident. Jack wasted no time taking them to an inn that overlooked a large square called Grand Place. Although the innkeeper did not immediately recognise Jack, he appeared to do so after a short conversation and he offered them a bedchamber overlooking the square. ‘It is my finest one,’ he said.

  ‘Can I have some hot water sent up?’ asked Anna.

  The man smiled and nodded and handed Jack a key. Immediately he gave it to Anna and told her to go upstairs, whilst he stabled the horses. Philippe hurried after Anna and they were shown to their bedchamber by a serving maid. Anna was pleased to see that the room was as finely appointed as the innkeeper had boasted.

  Hearing music, Anna went over to the window and then she beckoned Philippe to join her. ‘Come and see,’ she said, noticing that a couple of musicians had struck up a tune with pipe and drum in the square. ‘Do you like music, Philippe?’ she asked.

  He nodded, his eyes lighting up.

  She watched his thin face. He seemed absorbed in the music as they listened to the men’s playing. Then one of them began to sing. When he had finished his song, the music stopped and there was clapping from the passers-by who had stopped to listen. She also clapped and after a moment so did Philippe. Then the other musician began to speak. He spoke in several languages, one of them English. She understood that they belonged to a group of travelling players and were to perform a play that night. A very familiar tale: Le jeu de Robin et de Marion.

  ‘Could you hear what was said, Philippe?’ she asked.

  ‘Oui! I would like to see this play. Do you think Papa would allow it?’

  ‘We will ask him. I do not think he will say no.’

  ‘You ask him,’ said Philippe promptly. ‘He will say yes to you.’

  She knit her brow. ‘And you believe he will say no to you?’

  The boy shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘But why, Philippe? You are his son and he was very sad when he believed you were dead.’

  ‘He was away a long time.’

  ‘But surely you know now why that was?’

  He nodded and turned away, wandering round the chamber with a faraway look in his eyes.

  Anna felt that for the moment she had lost him in a similar fashion to that in which she lost Jack at times.

  Later when her husband entered the bedchamber, she told him about the musicians performing a play that evening. ‘I thought you might consider it suitable entertainment for the three of us to enjoy,’ she said, smiling.

  Jack nodded. ‘If it will help occupy Philippe’s thoughts, so that he does not miss Hortense and the grandmother too much this first night, it can only be the good.’

  ‘I had forgotten about the grandmother,’ said Anna.

  ‘I don’t think she could bear seeing Philippe depart. She had the care of him when Hortense was working at her sewing,’ said Jack, gazing across the room to where his son was taking something out of his baggage. ‘What has he there?’

  She looked and saw that he held a carved wooden manikin.

  ‘Obviously a parting gift from the wood carver,’ murmured Anna.

  ‘Perhaps a replacement for the one I bought him when he was small,’ said Jack in an odd voice.

  Hearing them talking, the boy brought it over and showed it to them. Its arms and legs were jointed so that they could be moved. ‘Antoine is very clever,’ said Philippe, admiringly.

  ‘I agree,’ said Jack, watching him. ‘If I’d thought about it I would have commissioned several of these from him. I’m certain my nephews and nieces would enjoy such a plaything.’

  ‘It is still worth bearing in mind, Jack,’ said Anna. ‘And I don’t solely mean as gifts for them. Surely there must be a market in England for these and it would enable us to keep in contact with Hortense. I wonder if he has ever thought of making a Noah’s ark with tiny wooden animals? I am certain I have seen such somewhere.’

  Jack gazed at her in surprise. ‘You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you, Anna? But you have not thought about the costs of transporting such playthings. A good English wood carver would prove cheaper.’

  Her face fell. ‘You are right. I had not thought about that.’

  Jack felt uncomfortable for having dampened her enthusiasm and relented. ‘It is a sign of your willingness to please. But there are those customers who would be willing to pay the extra for such skilled work and to boast to their neighbours that their children’s playthings had come from France at great cost.’

  Her eyes brightened and he thought how easy it was to make her happy and experienced that tenderness he had felt towards her early that day.

  ‘So it is a notion worth thinking about for the future, Jack?’ she said, her eyes bright. ‘I can see Philippe when he grows to be a man, travelling here and—’

  ‘You must not plan too far ahead for my son, Anna,’ warned Jack. ‘You more than anyone should know that. Let us live one day at a time.’

  She knew he was right, but his use of the word my in relationship to his son made her only too aware that Philippe was not her son. She was not a real wife and mother. Her happy mood evaporated and she was subdued as they went downstairs to eat a meal of lamb in a red wine sauce with onions, beans and mushrooms. She noticed that Philippe ate with a good appetite and was thankful for that at least. A lost appetite would have meant he would lose weight and be more inclined to sickness.

  Afterwards, they went outside and wandered about the town for an hour or so before returning to the Grand Place in time to see the travelling players setting up their mobile stage on a two-tiered wagon. Philippe stuck close to Anna, but spoke not at all. She realised that he was probably feeling insecure and pining for Hortense and the grandmother.

  The musicians struck up a tune. The two she had seen earlier were now joined by a man with a stringed instrument. She thought of her lute left behind on the Hercules and prayed that the ship had safely reached Calais.

  Philippe surprised both Anna and Jack by beginning to clap his hands in time to the music and his thin boyish features were alight with glee. Jack smiled at Anna over his head and she felt better. She prayed that from now on, they would draw close and could become a real family.

  Philippe was half-sleep by the time the play came to an end and, despite his protestations, Jack carried the boy back to the inn on his shoulders. But he left it to Anna to undress his drowsy son and put him to bed. She told herself that it made sense to place the lad in the middle so that he would not fall out. So, with Philippe acting as a buffer between Anna and Jack, there was naught for them to do but to turn their backs on each other and go to sleep.

  Hours later, Anna woke to discover she was curled up on the edge of the bed. But it was not her precarious position that had woken her, but Jack talking in his sleep. ‘Go quickly! Allez vite!’ he said loudly. There was a pause, then, ‘Ne pas demander aux questions.’

  Anna felt the mattress shift beneath her and a sleepy voice, say, ‘Hortense, where are you?’

  ‘Courez! Courez vite!’ said Jack.

  ‘Hortense, Grand-mère!’ called Philippe, sounding frightened.

  A knee dug into Anna’s back and she fell out of the bed, hitting the floor with a thump. She heard the boy’s voic
e rise to a worrying pitch. She managed to lift herself off the floor and feel around to the other side of the bed.

  ‘Jack, Jack, wake up!’ she cried, kneeling at the side of the bed and shaking him.

  She heard Philippe yell in French, ‘Who is there? Hortense, where are you?’ He began to weep.

  Jack groaned. ‘Philippe!’

  Anna had hurt her elbows and knees and winced as she dragged herself up on to the bed. It was plain to her that neither father nor son was aware of what had happened to her. ‘Jack, are you awake?’

  ‘Of course, I’m awake. I heard Philippe shouting. What are you doing out of bed?’

  ‘You were shouting. You woke us up,’ she explained.

  He reached out and drew her close to him. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Aye. Were you having a nightmare?’

  ‘The one where Philippe is taken away from me.’

  ‘Well, there is no need for you to worry about that any more,’ said Anna softly. ‘Isn’t he here with us?’

  ‘I know that now,’ said Jack with a grimace. He was a breath away from kissing her, but knew that once he started doing so he would not want to stop. ‘I suppose you’d best comfort Philippe. He’s asking for Hortense.’

  ‘I want to go home,’ sobbed Philippe.

  ‘Of course you do, sweeting, and you will.’ She crawled over Jack and took the boy in her arms.

  Jack envied the boy. Yet he understood his uncertainties and the need for reassurance. He realised that he was going to need all the diplomacy that he had learnt in trade and during his years of enslavement in the coming weeks if all was to work out the way he wanted.

  An hour or so later Jack was bidding his wife and son to get dressed. ‘We must be on our way soon if we want to reach Calais today. Pray God the Hercules will be anchored in the harbour. If the weather holds fair then we should be able to set sail on the morrow.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a relief to both Anna and Jack to find the Hercules anchored alongside one of the quays at Calais. Master mariner Peter Dunn’s face showed surprise and pleasure at seeing Anna again. ‘It’s good to see you so soon, Lady Fenwick,’ he said.

  ‘And I to see you, Peter,’ she replied, accepting his help aboard.

  She decided to leave it to Jack to inform him of her changed status and about his son. She took a deep breath of the sharp salty air and watched Jack lift his son aboard and then climb on the deck himself. Philippe looked sullen. She knew that he felt that she had tricked him by saying he would go home. Home to Philippe was still Amiens and she sympathised with him. She overheard Jack asking whether his missive had been sent to his brother and the lady’s to Master ap Rowan. Peter nodded. Only then did Jack inform him of his marriage and introduce his son to him.

  The mariner did not look as surprised as Anna might have expected. But she reasoned that perhaps Jack was not the only merchant venturer or mariner to have had a woman and children in a foreign port. But she doubted few had sons that they took home with them or introduced another woman to the crew as his wife. Turning towards her, he gave her his hearty congratulations, adding, ‘All the crew were expecting you both to come back wed.’

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t disappoint them,’ she replied, laughing.

  Jack said to Peter, ‘I need the cabin in the fo’csle tidying up and rearranging for my family, if you don’t mind taking the deckhouse cabin.’

  ‘That’s fine with me, Master Jack. Is there aught else you want sorting out?’

  ‘Of your courtesy, Peter, if could you bring me my lute and parchments from the drawer in the deckhouse cabin?’ asked Anna, looking to Jack to provide him with the key.

  ‘Of course, my lady. I mean, Mistress Milburn,’ said the mariner.

  Anna was hoping that some music might lighten Philippe’s spirits on the voyage. In the meantime she was glad to relax on deck whilst the fo’csle cabin was made ready for them. She bid Philippe to come and sit by her. With a show of reluctance he did so.

  ‘So what do you think of your papa’s ship?’ she asked. He raised his shoulders almost to his ears and then let them drop. She smiled. ‘You’re withholding judgement until you have sailed in her?’

  He looked puzzled and she realised he had not understand what she meant. ‘I mean you have not made up your mind.’

  ‘I thought she would be grander,’ he muttered.

  ‘Ahhh! You think that if your papa is rich then he would have a great galleon. Maybe he will one day.’

  Philippe’s expression changed. ‘He would need one if he were to sail west across the Great Ocean,’ he said.

  ‘What do you know of the Great Ocean, Philippe?’ asked a voice behind him.

  They both started and looked up at Jack.

  ‘Well, Philippe?’ he enquired.

  The boy flushed and lowered his head.

  His father frowned. ‘Am I an ogre that you are frightened to answer me?’

  Anna glanced at her stepson. ‘He will not bite,’ she whispered, ‘but can tell you many tales about the sea.’

  A sigh escaped the boy. ‘My friend Tomas says that the earth is flat and if you were to sail west the ship would fall off the edge. But my other friend Pierre, he says that his uncle, who is an apothecary, believes that the earth is round and spins round the sun. If that is so, then what is it that keeps us from flying off?’

  Jack drew up a keg and sat down opposite him. ‘An interesting question and one that has plagued many a mariner.’

  ‘Have you an answer, Jack, other than it is by God’s good grace?’ asked Anna.

  Jack pulled a face. ‘Even with God’s good grace the earth, planets and stars must surely follow certain rules.’ His steely-blue eyes narrowed. ‘As for whether the earth is flat and one could sail west and eventually come to the end of it and fall off, I do not believe it.’

  Philippe said eagerly, ‘Where would all the water go? It would need an enormous pail to catch it all and who would hold it?’

  Jack nodded, managing to keep his face straight. ‘Aye. But these are serious matters for a small boy to ponder on.’

  Philippe’s mouth tightened and he looked very like his father. ‘I am not so small,’ he said gruffly, springing to his feet and hurrying away.

  Jack exchanged grimaces with Anna. ‘He’s as prickly as a hedgehog,’ he said.

  ‘He’ll get over it,’ said Anna, disappointed that the conversation had come to such an abrupt end.

  ‘You’ll have to keep your eye on him,’ said Jack. ‘I don’t want him running away whilst we’re tied up here.’

  She nodded. ‘He mentioned friends. He is going to miss them.’

  ‘So he will. But there is naught we can do about it if he is to sail with us. It’s interesting that he has been in discussion about the Great Ocean.’

  ‘The thought of sailing off into the unknown probably appeals to him. Did you never want to discover what lies further west beyond Ireland?’

  ‘There was a time, but that desire has passed.’ He smiled at her. ‘I am ready to settle down and to leave such ventures to the next generation.’

  ‘Now who is planning Philippe’s future?’ said Anna, returning his smile.

  Jack sighed. ‘It is good to look forwards after not allowing oneself to believe that one had a future, never mind considering that of my son.’ He stood up and walked away.

  Anna thought about what he said and was glad he felt like that.

  It was a relief to her when she was told the fo’csle cabin was ready for them to move into and, although it was not much bigger than the cabin she had occupied previously, at least their small family would have some privacy. They were to sleep not in bunks but on pallets in a kind of wooden framework a foot or so high. Their clothes went into a great seaman’s chest attached to the floor and a smaller chest swallowed up the rest of their baggage. Peter had handed her lute to her and she plucked at the strings before stowing it away with her parchments. On the morrow she planned on
inspecting them and showing them to Philippe, knowing she would find pleasure in doing so. Her own son had been too young to take any real interest in them. It occurred to her that perhaps she should give Philippe one of the parchments for his own to enjoy and keep as an investment.

  When she and Jack finally retired to the cabin, they found Philippe asleep and there were tears on his cheeks. She sighed and tucked a blanket in beneath him, hoping that he would not wake until morning. The ship would sail on the early tide.

  Jack blew out the candle in the lantern before they lay down to rest. ‘No regrets, Anna?’ he whispered, facing her.

  She could not read his expression. ‘About what?’ she asked in a low voice.

  ‘About returning to England as my wife and mother to my son?’

  She shook her head. ‘How do you feel, knowing you are going to have to face your twin with the news? Do you think he will welcome me as his sister?’ she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

  ‘Why should he not? You have much to recommend you.’

  She murmured, conscious of Philippe a few inches away. ‘I am glad you think so. He might consider it extremely unseemly of me to have persuaded you into taking me aboard your ship.’

  Jack shrugged. ‘Whilst I am extremely fond of my twin, I do not live under his dictate. Having said that, I want the family ties between us to remain close. It is a shame that his children are younger than Philippe.’

  ‘The Mackillin boys aren’t. Perhaps once we are settled back in England, we can take him on a visit to see them.’