Bond of Passion

by Bertrice Small

  Annabella nodded. “I’ll remember,” she said as she mounted her horse. “Thank ye, Jeannie. Watch over my sister and my bairns.”

  “I will,” Jean promised.

  Following the careful directions Jean had given her, Annabella reached the far side of Duin village and secreted herself in the stand of trees. After a surprisingly short while Angus cantered by. Annabella began counting off the minutes in her head, and when they totaled fifteen she exited the trees and followed the road as instructed. It took several long days to reach Leith, which was the port for Edinburgh.

  During much of that time she had to rely on her faith that Angus was ahead of her. She rode until it was dark each night, sheltering where she could, eating her scant rations from the packet she found in her saddlebag. She became more comfortable when they reached the main road to the port and she could keep her husband in her sight amid all the traffic coming and going. But when Angus stopped at an inn, Annabella rode by, afraid to test her disguise amid a taproom of rough males. Instead she asked permission from a farm wife to shelter in the farmer’s barn.

  “Why, what pretty manners ye hae, laddie,” the woman said. “Aye. Hae ye anything to eat?”

  “Aye, mistress, thank ye,” Annabella said, lowering her voice just slightly.

  The farm wife nodded, but later came to the barn with a large slab of fresh bread with cheese. “A lad always needs food, especially one as slender as ye are.”

  Annabella thanked the woman for her kindness, eating her offering, saving her own oatcakes for the morning. She did not sleep heavily, afraid of missing Angus when he came riding by. She was up before the dawn, and saddled her mount, watching through the open barn door, feeling relieved to see him go by. Pulling an oatcake from her saddlebag, she mounted up and joined the early morning traffic upon the road. She ate the oatcake as she rode. At a fork in the road she saw a sign pointing in one direction to Edinburgh and in the other toward Leith. She reached the port that afternoon, going directly to the Mermaid to stable her horse. It was by good fortune she overheard her husband speaking with the innkeeper.

  “What ships sail for France on the evening tide?” Angus asked.

  “Two,” the innkeeper said. “One for Calais and the other for Brest in Brittany. Merchant vessels both, wi’ room for passengers. Which do ye prefer?”

  “The ship bound for Brest,” Angus said.

  “Captain is in my taproom right now,” the innkeeper said. “Come along, my lord, and I’ll point him out to ye.”

  Annabella followed at a discreet distance, watching as her husband booked his passage and paid the captain. When he had completed his business the earl sat down at a table and ordered a good hot dinner. Annabella went to the ship’s captain.

  “I should like to book passage on yer vessel bound for Brest,” she said.

  “Would ye now, lad?” The captain grinned. “Ye’re a wee bit young to be making such a long voyage. ’Twill be at least ten days.”

  “And I’ll probably be sick most of the way,” Annabella said, chortling. “Nonetheless I must get to Brest, sir, though I not be fond of the sea.”

  The captain laughed in return. “ ’Twill cost ye a silver piece. Unless ye would prefer to work for yer passage.”

  “My mistress would nae like that,” Annabella said, handing him the fare he required of her. “She’s a jealous woman.”

  The captain laughed heartily this time. “Ye’re yer lady’s pet, are ye? Yet she sends ye off on some secret errand.” He fingered the silver piece, noting it was unclipped.

  “Her husband dallies in France, and she is suspicious that he has taken a mistress for himself there. I am to go and learn the truth of the matter,” Annabella said.

  “The lady trusts ye, which is to the good, but yer master will nae thank ye if his wife’s suspicions prove truth,” the captain said.

  “He’ll nae ever see me,” Annabella confided, suddenly enjoying her ruse.

  “We sail wi’ the tide just after six this evening,” the captain said. “My ship is called the Gazelle. That gentleman over there will be sailing wi’ us too.” He pointed to the earl. “Be on time, lad. We’ll nae wait for ye!”

  “I’ll be there,” Annabella said. Then, taking the earl’s lead, she found a quiet corner where she could watch Angus. When he got up to leave, she would too.

  A serving wench came over to her table. “What will ye be drinking?” she asked.

  “Cider, if ye hae it,” Annabella answered, “and some bread and cheese.”

  “Cider, is it,” the girl teased. “A fine laddie like yerself?” She leaned down, revealing a pair of very plump breasts.

  Annabella swallowed hard, then said, “I’ve nae a head for spirits, and as I am on an important mission for my mistress, I dare not miss sailing on the Gazelle this evening.” She chucked the servant beneath the chin with what appeared regretful interest.

  The girl giggled. “And I’ll wager the lady gave ye scant coin for yer travels. I’ll see what I can find in the kitchens besides the bread and cheese.” Then she turned about, swinging her hips as she hurried off.

  Mother of all mercies, Annabella thought. What that poor lass must do to earn her keep. I ne’er really thought about such lasses before. She turned so that she could not be seen, and reached into her shirt to pull two coppers from her purse, one for the meal and one for the serving wench. Across the room her husband ate a small meal as she surreptitiously watched him. Her own plate came with the bread, the cheese, and a slice of goose. She thanked the barmaid, and then daringly dropping the large copper down between the girl’s breasts.

  The wench giggled. “Are ye sure I can’t do anything else for ye, sir?” she tittered, bouncing up and down on her toes so that her big breasts jiggled.

  “Nay, nay!” Annabella assured her, feeling her own cheeks grow warm. “Thank ye.” If the lass only knew the truth.

  The girl turned away.

  Annabella ate the food on her plate quickly. Angus was still seated at his place, sipping from a pewter tankard. When he finally arose she was too fearful of losing sight of him, for she was certain he would go directly to the ship. She didn’t want him catching her, especially before they sailed. He would be furious. He would feel he had to take her back to Duin, and that would delay his quest close to a month. Annabella walked slowly, keeping to the shadows. The street was still busy enough that she would not raise suspicion. Finally she saw a vessel ahead, and across its bow was written in gold letters, THE GAZELLE. The earl strode up the gangway.

  Annabella waited a few long moments. She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. Could she do this? Did she dare? But she had to, for every instinct told her that Angus would need her whether he realized it or not. She took a long, deep breath, exhaled, and walked up the gangway of the ship.

  A boy of perhaps eleven years of age awaited her as she stepped onto the vessel. “Ye’ll be the lad spying in France for his mistress,” he said. “I’m the ship’s cabin boy. Me da is the captain. Do ye hae a name? Me da dinna say.”

  “He never asked me, but ’tis Robert Hamilton,” Annabella replied quickly, combining her father’s name and her mother’s maiden name. “Where am I to shelter?”

  “Ye’ll hae to share a space, as we only hae two cabins for passengers,” the cabin boy said. “The captain said ye hae good manners, so he ordered me to put ye in the large cabin. Ye’re fortunate. In the smaller cabin is a French wine merchant and his son. They’ve traveled wi’ us before. I call the older man Master Heave and Blow, for he’ll vomit and fart all the way to Brest. His son will simply vomit and moan until we sight land again. Do ye get seasick?”

  “I’ve never been to sea,” Annabella said.

  “Dinna drink too much until ye get yer sea legs,” the cabin boy advised. “Yer cabinmate is already on board. He’s a nobleman, he is.”

  Mother of all mercies! Annabella swallowed back a gasp. It had to be Angus, and they were still tied to the pier. “I think I�
��ll stay on deck until we’re under way,” she said. “The day has been warm. I’ll welcome the sea breeze.”

  “Suit yerself,” the lad said. “When ye’re ready, just call me. Ye hae better find yerself a spot out of the way, for we are about to cast off.”

  “Thank ye,” Annabella said to him, and he hurried off. She found a small sheltered spot, and sat down upon a barrel top to watch as the ship was made ready to sail. The gangway was drawn up. The ropes holding her to her dockage space were released. The sails were slowly raised by sailors both upon the deck and scrambling above the deck untying the rolled-up sheets, fastening them down where they should be.

  They were suddenly moving away from the great stone quay. She could feel the gentle motion of the waves beneath the vessel. They were away! She remained upon the deck as they finally cleared the harbor, moving out into the Firth of Forth. The ship continued its passage, but Annabella could feel a change in the sea as the vessel moved along. It seemed deeper suddenly. Eventually a small island came into view. She knew from her own lessons as a girl that it was known as the Isle of May. Once there had been a monastery located upon it, but no one lived there now but creatures.

  The sun set and the twilight filled the sky. Annabella remained on the deck watching as they left the Firth of Forth, moving out into the open sea. A light wind filled the ship’s sails. It was surprisingly cool, but then, autumn was almost upon them. Annabella pulled her cloak about her. The sky above her was now dark, and bright stars began to twinkle. She shivered. She was going to have to go in sooner rather than later. Maybe Angus would be asleep.

  As if anticipating her need, the cabin boy appeared. “I hae time to take ye to yer cabin, Master Hamilton. Will ye be coming along then?”

  “Aye,” Annabella said, standing up. “Lead on, lad.” Then she followed him.

  He led her below the main deck. At the bottom of the stairs he opened a door, saying, “The nobleman is wi’ my da right now, but he’ll return soon enough.”

  “I’ve ridden a long way the past few days, and slept along the road. Yon bunk seems fine to me,” Annabella said. “I’ll be going to sleep now.”

  “Aye,” the lad said. “’Tis as good a pastime as any. Good night then.” And he was gone, scrambling up the narrow ladder that served as a staircase.

  The cabin had three bunks built into the wall. One stood alone, and the earl’s cape lay upon it. The other two bunks were set one above the other. Annabella considered sleeping on the top, but decided against it. Instead, setting her saddlebag beneath it, she sat down upon the bottom bunk, wondering how fresh the straw in the mattress might be.

  She pulled off her boots, setting them with the saddlebag. Then, hearing footsteps outside, she lay down, pulled up her cloak, faced the wall, and feigned sleep as the door to the cabin opened.

  His footsteps crossed the floor to his bunk. She heard him grunt softly as he pulled his boots off and stored them beneath his bed. She heard the straw in his mattress crunch as he settled himself. She was scarcely breathing, but then Angus began to make the gentle little snuffling noise that indicated he was sliding into a deep sleep. Annabella relaxed. While she would attempt to conceal her identity from him as long as possible, the worst was now over. By morning they would be far at sea and on their way to Brittany. There was no way he could send her back to Duin now. She slid into her own deep slumber, feeling vastly relieved.

  The next few days passed quickly. Annabella formed a simple routine. She would appear in the galley in midmorning, where the cook would give her a bowl of hot porridge and a slice of bread and cheese. The food, she learned from the talkative cook, was better on voyages of shorter duration, as theirs would be. The fresh bread they took on in Leith as well as meat could be stored without going bad and becoming maggoty. She was always alone in the galley at this time of day. The earl and the captain seemed to have common interests. The seamen went about their duties. The other two passengers, the father and son, remained in their cabin, as the cabin boy had said they would.

  As the earl ate in the captain’s cabin each evening, Annabella was free to collect her meal when she chose. She would take it to her cabin, eat, and return the bowl to the cook. She spent her days either seated upon the barrel watching the sea, or in the cabin sleeping. She managed her personal needs quickly, and as soon as the earl left the cabin in the morning. She ate and drank sparingly, thus saving herself from seasickness.

  The night before they were to land at Brest, the ship was overtaken by a storm that tossed the vessel hither and yon. Thunder roared, and lightning cracked ferociously all around them. The sails were brought down to keep them from being blown too far off course. But the storm did not last more than a few hours, and by early dawn they were sailing between Île d’Ouessant and the coast of Brittany. Annabella was amazed that her first fears when the ship began to rock had quickly subsided, and she was brought to ill-concealed hilarity at the sounds coming from the smaller cabin next door.

  Her fellow passengers were really not good travelers. Their howls of anguish followed by their equally loud prayers to Saint Christopher and the blessed Mother did not allow for sleep, even if the fierce storm had. The earl had not returned to the cabin at all, and Annabella imagined he kept company with the captain. Now, as the noon hour approached, the ship entered the landlocked harbor of Brest on the Penfield River. The town was set on the two hillsides, divided by the river and dominated by its dark stone castle. The town had been part of the dower portion of Claude, the daughter of Anne, the Duchess of Brittany, when she had married Fran-çois I.

  Annabella made certain that her plait was securely pinned beneath her cap. She couldn’t believe that she had had the good fortune to elude her husband’s eye in such close quarters during their voyage. But, of course, Angus was concerned with clearing his good name. He would hardly consider that his wife had disobeyed him and followed after him. Now, however, she had to find a place to rent a horse so she might follow Angus to his late mother’s home to learn the truth of what had happened. She gathered up her saddlebag and went out on the deck.

  The other passengers were already assembled. The father and son looked to be a shade of pale gray-green. They were obviously not over their travel sickness. Annabella caught the sleeve of the cabin boy, asking him where she might hire a horse.

  “Just follow the nobleman, sir. He is going to the stables, and the captain has already given him the directions.”

  Annabella thanked the lad.

  The gangway was lowered. The earl strode down it, followed by the father and son. Annabella came last, her saddlebag over her shoulder as she hurried behind the earl, following but attempting not to attract his attention at the same time. He reached his destination, bargained for his mount, and waited for it to be saddled. Annabella did the same. Fortunately the animals were led out together. She paid the stable owner and mounted up first, pretending to fuss with her saddlebag while she waited for the earl to complete his transaction and be on his way.

  Finally he was ready. Mounting up, he rode off. Annabella followed, keeping her husband in sight, but leaving a careful distance between them. Just as they left the town behind, she noticed a horseman enter the road from a side lane. She heard another rider behind her. She didn’t know why, but all her instincts were suddenly aroused. In his travels from Duin to Leith nothing had caught her interest as did the man before her and the man behind her. Was it her imagination, or were they following after Angus?

  As the late summer sun set and twilight spilled over the land, Annabella began to worry. If they had to sleep rough this night, would the other riders use the cover of darkness to attack the earl? The man ahead of her turned off the road. She rode on by him, but her ears strained for sounds of the man behind her. He turned off the road too.

  Was it a coincidence? Then she saw a lighted structure ahead of her. It was an inn, and the earl was turning his mount into the inn-yard. She turned her horse too, instructing the stableman in precise Fren
ch to check its feet for stones, then feed, water, and stable it until she was ready to leave.

  He entered the inn just ahead of her. The taproom was not crowded, and the inn upon close inspection was just barely respectable. She watched as the earl sought a table in a corner that allowed him to keep his back to the wall while observing the whole room. The landlord, recognizing nobility when he saw it, hurried over to personally serve the earl. Annabella chose a small table placed in such a way that she could see both the door to the inn and her husband’s table. A serving wench came to inquire what she would eat, recommending the pot-au-feu. Annabella ordered it, along with a small goblet of wine.

  An elderly serving woman struggled over to the earl’s table beneath a large tray of food. The landlord had obviously given the earl everything in the kitchen. Annabella hid her grin. Angus had a good appetite, but she knew he also preferred his food plain and well cooked. She watched him as she slowly ate her own pot-au-feu, which was surprisingly good. It was full of vegetables and bits of clearly identifiable poultry. If she wasn’t mistaken it was flavored with both ground pepper and wine. There was a thick slice of warm fresh bread spread with butter that she dipped into the soup.

  Angus, on the other hand, took a large piece of beef, bread, butter, cheese, and what appeared to be a salad of new greens. The rest he told the old woman with a warm smile to return to the kitchen. “Tell your master that I am a man of simple tastes, old mother,” Annabella heard her husband say. The old woman chuckled and tottered off. Annabella watched as her husband devoured his meal. Would he remain here, or would he attempt to travel on in the dark? she wondered.

  The innkeeper came and announced to the few guests eating, “Alas, monsieurs, I am a small establishment. I have no rooms to let, but you are all most welcome to remain the night where you are now seated. Or you may share the barn with your horses. Either way it will cost you a copper more in addition to your meal.” He then walked from table to table to collect his coins.