In the Commodore's Hands. Mary Nichols
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‘Has someone denounced him?’
‘I believe Henri Canard has done so. He is a lawyer and the leader of the local peasantry.’
‘What has he against your father?’
‘Apart from the fact that Papa is an aristo, you mean? Nothing that I know of, but he is an ambitious man and all too ready to use the grievances of the poor for his own ends.’
‘It sounds as if you do not think your father will be released as a result of a lawful trial.’
‘We are sure of it,’ Sir John broke in.
‘Then what you are asking is that we break him out of prison and spirit him away.’
‘Do you think you can?’ Lisette asked. It was a great deal to ask and she was not sure she should ask it, but there was no one else to help them.
‘I cannot tell until I have investigated further. If it can be done, I will endeavour to do it, but we will need a careful plan.’
‘You are welcome to stay here, that goes without saying,’ Sir John said. ‘How have you arrived?’
‘I used my father’s yacht, the Lady Amy. It is moored just off the coast. When the Comte is free we can all go aboard and sail for England.’
‘You make it sound easy,’ Lisette said.
‘That part of it is. It is the getting of him out of gaol which might try our ingenuity.’
Lisette, who was well aware of that, gave a deep sigh and pushed her plate away from her, half the food untouched, though Sir John’s cook was a good one. ‘What do you propose to do?’
‘Knowing the layout of the prison would be a good start,’ Jay said. ‘And the number and routine of the guards. I think tomorrow I will pay it a visit.’
‘Under what pretext?’ his grandfather asked.
Jay was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I am a wine merchant and have bought cider and Calvados to take to England and have some to spare, that is if you can provide me with a few bottles, mademoiselle,’ he added.
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘A few bottles of Calvados is a small price to pay for my father’s liberty, but I have to tell you I have tried that already. The guards take what I bring, but do nothing for Papa. I think I am become a great jest to them.’
‘Then they have a strange sense of humour,’ he said gallantly, raising his glass to her.
He had all the hallmarks of a chivalrous gentleman, his manners were irreproachable, he smiled a great deal, but it was a smile that did not reach his eyes. Underneath his cheerful demeanour, she sensed a wariness, a kind of distrust she had done nothing to bring about that she knew of. Had he been coerced into what to him was an unwanted errand because his grandfather wished to leave France and his mother was anxious to have him back in the bosom of his family? Was the fact that her dear father was part of the deal abhorrent to him? Or had he simply taken an aversion to her? Well, she did not care! So long as he helped them, she would be polite but distant.
‘I will have a case of Calvados ready tomorrow morning,’ she said. ‘And a carriage to convey us to the prison in Honfleur.’
‘You wish to accompany me?’ Jay asked in surprise.
‘Naturally I do. If you think of a way of freeing my father, I want to be the first to hear of it and do my part to bring it about.’
‘You would be wiser to stay at home and wait.’
‘I am quite hopeless when it comes to waiting,’ she said, laughing. ‘Sir John will tell you that. Patience was left out when the angels decided on my virtues.’
‘Which I do not doubt are many,’ Jay said with that same gallantry he had displayed before. She wondered how he could say all the right things, yet his cold eyes told another story. ‘If you insist on coming, then so be it, I only ask that you stay in the carriage some distance away while I reconnoitre. It is not a good idea for the prison authorities to know we are acquainted with one another.’
She did not think they were acquainted at all; it would take more than a conversation over supper to get to know him, to tear down the barrier of ice he seemed to have built around himself. She surprised herself by wondering what he would be like if he were to let a little warmth into his soul. ‘I will do as you suggest,’ she said meekly.
There was a pause in the conversation while the cloth was removed and several dishes of fruit and sweet tartlets brought in to conclude the meal. When it was resumed, Jay seemed to set aside the business of freeing the Comte and enquired about the latest news from Paris.
‘It was in turmoil when I was there,’ Lisette said. ‘And so dirty and dismal. Everyone is worried what the King’s supporters will do next and since the death of Mirabeau, the most moderate of the Revolutionaries and the most popular, there is no telling what the mob might do.’
‘I met Mirabeau when he came to England,’ Jay said. ‘He seemed anxious to learn about our British democracy.’
‘Yes, that is what he advocated for France, but I do not know how much support he had. He maintained that for a government to succeed it must be strong, but to be strong it must have the support of the people, that was why he was so well liked, in spite of his dubious past. Now…’ She shrugged. ‘Who knows? The political clubs like the Jacobins, the Girondins and the Cordeliers are becoming more influential and extreme. The people are being encouraged to turn their hatred on to the nobility, whether they deserve it or no.’
‘Then the sooner we have you and your father out of France, the better,’ Jay said.
The evening broke up after that and Jay offered to escort Lisette home, which was only a few minutes’ walk away.
Chapter Two
The night was balmy with a slight breeze that did no more than ruffle Lisette’s shawl and it was so still they could hear the distant sound of the sea breaking on the pebbles of the river estuary less than a couple of kilometres away. Above them a new moon hung on its back and the stars made a pincushion of the dark sky.
This peaceful country lane gave no hint of what was going on in Paris, the main seat of all the troubles, where the parks had been given over to making arms and uniforms for the army in the war against Austria, where Revolutionaries in red caps manned the barricades at every entrance to the city and stopped people going in and out to search them for contraband or for aristos taking money and valuables out of the country, which was strictly prohibited. They could expect no mercy.
She was thankful that Monsieur Drymore had had the foresight to bring his yacht to Normandy and they would not have to brave the mob to leave the country by the usual route from Paris to Calais. Even so, they still had to overcome the guards at the prison and spirit her father safely to the vessel. For that she needed the enigmatic man at her side.
At last he was constrained by politeness to break the silence. ‘You speak excellent English, mademoiselle.’
‘My mother was English. My father met her on a visit to London in ’64 and they fell