June Francis Read online

  He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He was astounded by the generosity of her offer after his rudeness to her. ‘You would trust me to do that for you?’

  ‘Aye. Just because you make me angry does not mean I don’t trust you. You are a merchant venturer and I am sure you would be able to get the best price for them. So, what do you say to my proposal? If your estimation of their value is true, then your commission will be a goodly sum.’

  Jack did not know what to say. She had put him in a quandary. In different circumstances he would have accepted her proposal, but if he was to stay true to his vow, then he must refuse. After all, there was no guarantee he would survive the confrontation with the Comte de Briand. But how could he refuse her offer without hurting her feelings? Then he had an idea.

  ‘I suggest, Anna, that you hold on to the parchments for a while. It is likely that, due to the development of the printing press, they will increase in value as more leaflets, documents and books are printed by machinery. They will become even more of a rarity, so I suggest we find somewhere safe to put them. That is unless you are desperately in need of coin right now?’

  ‘Not desperately, but I have no French coin, so perhaps we could sell one or two?’

  Jack sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I confess, Anna, that there are other merchant venturers more knowledgeable of the present market than I am after an absence of six years.’

  She nodded. ‘I understand that, but I would rather you gained when the parchments are sold—just to show you how much I appreciate your help.’

  ‘That really is unnecessary,’ said Jack, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

  ‘Nevertheless, let us seal our agreement by shaking hands,’ she said, holding out her hand.

  He had no choice but to take that small but capable hand in his and was compelled to lift it to his lips and kiss it. Her fingers trembled in his grasp and swiftly he dropped her hand as if it were a hot chestnut. He cleared his throat. ‘To business.’ Carefully he picked up the parchment. ‘May I see the others too? I will sit beneath the awning and you can join me there.’

  Anna nodded, feeling her cheeks grow slightly pink. The fingers that he had kissed still tingled and she found herself humming as she crossed the deck. Then suddenly she saw a sight that completely made her forget the business in hand. ‘Jack, what is that great fish?’ she cried, pointing out to sea. ‘Look! It is leaping out of the water.’

  His head was not the only one to turn, but it was Jack who stood up and came over to her. ‘It’s a porpoise. Sometimes one sees a whole school of them, leaping and diving after the smaller fish.’

  ‘Now that would be a sight worth seeing,’ she murmured, her eyes fixed on the graceful animal. ‘What wonders you must have seen on your journeying, Jack! I wish I could have been with you.’

  Jack felt a warmth at his heart. He was glad that she was happy at the sight of the frolicking porpoise and felt a momentary sadness that he had become accustomed to such sights and no longer marvelled. He imagined what a pleasant companion Anna would have been in Venice, Bruges, Spain, as well as the frozen islands to the north. He stayed at her side, watching as several more porpoises joined the first one. He felt strangely at peace sharing her pleasure. Monique had had no taste for travel, otherwise he would have taken her with him. A sigh escaped him and he told himself that he must bring the moment to an end. He asked Anna to fetch the other parchments.

  She did so, and for the next couple of hours the pair of them admired the talents of the men responsible for creating such beautiful drawings and skilful writing. She was pleased that she and Jack were on good terms again and hoped that this boded well for the remaining time she would be spending in his company.

  The previous evening Anna had gone to bed and slept deeply, completely unaware that during the night the wind rose mightily. When she woke she realised by the bucking of the ship that the weather had changed. It filled her with dismay as she came out on deck to see that the sails were reefed and there was no land in sight. As for the deck, it was going up and down in an extremely alarming manner. It was also much colder than yesterday and there was no scent of wood smoke from the cook’s fire. Seeing Jack on the fo’csle, she staggered across the deck towards him.

  ‘Where are we?’ she shouted.

  ‘We’ve been blown off course. There’ll be no landing you on the south coast now,’ he said loudly, gazing down at her with frowning eyes.

  A chill of fear raced down her spine. ‘Are we on the great ocean?’

  ‘Aye.’ The muscles of his face were taut and his scar gleamed silvery white against his tanned skin. ‘Start praying that the wind will change and blow us eastwards to Europe.’

  ‘And if it does—where will we make landfall?’ Her knuckles gleamed white as she clung to the banister of the stairway that led up to the fo’csle. She had forgotten to put on her cloak and the wind felt as if it were blowing right through her.

  ‘Hopefully France, unless we are blown further south,’ he shouted. ‘You’d best get back to your cabin. Unfortunately, there’ll be no hot food or fresh bread until this wind dies down.’ At that moment Peter spoke to him and he turned away.

  Anna faced the way she had come with some trepidation. At least inside her cabin she would be out of the wind. She prayed it would change direction, abate somewhat and blow them all the way to France. She lowered her head and decided to make a run across the deck, tacking this way and that. Halfway across, she felt the ship veer round and heard a warning shout. The next moment she was drenched by a wave and lost her footing and was swept across the desk. Gasping with fright and the shock of the cold water, she tried to claw her way up the slanting planks but the undertow of the retreating wave began to drag her with it. She screamed.

  Then Jack was there, seizing her by the arms and pulling her to safety. Anna slumped against his chest, weeping and spluttering out water. She was aware that he was shouting out an order and men were making haste to obey him. ‘Hush, hush, you’re safe. I’ll soon have you off this deck and in your cabin,’ he said against her ear. She felt herself being lifted and it was as much as she could do to prevent her teeth from chattering. Her hands were that cold she could not even cling on to Jack.

  ‘Please, Anna, don’t cry,’ he muttered, managing somehow to carry her with one arm, while hanging on to a rope that had been rapidly slung from the mast and tied to the handle of her cabin door.

  One of the mariners had gone ahead of Jack and now held the door open for them. Then Anna and Jack were inside out of the wind and he set her down on her feet. She immediately staggered against him. ‘Here, Anna, hold on to the wooden strut of the bunk, whilst I get some dry clothes for you,’ he said.

  ‘I—I—I can’t. I—I’ve no f-feeling in my hands,’ she stuttered.

  ‘Then just lean against the door!’ he shouted.

  For a moment back there he had thought she was going to be swept overboard. He should never have brought her with him, he thought savagely, moving her aside and easing himself round her. He balanced himself on his haunches and pulled out the drawer beneath the bed and rooted through the items there before dragging out what he considered essential female apparel.

  ‘Here, put these on,’ he said brusquely, tossing them on to the bed.

  Anna was incapable of doing what he said and could not understand why he was so angry with her. ‘W-why are y-you shouting at me?’

  ‘You could have died, you foolish woman! We could all still die! Why did you have to follow me? Haven’t I seen enough of death? A fine protector, I am!’ he ranted, hitting the wooden strut at the side of the bunk with his head. He swore.

  ‘D-don’t talk so—so stupid!’ she managed through chattering teeth. ‘Y-you saved my life. Instead of complaining, help me!’

  He stared at her from angry eyes. ‘Haven’t I done enough for you?’

  She returned his stare and whispered, ‘Do—do this one last act of kindness?’

  The spa
ce was so cramped that she was able to remain where she was and stretch out a hand and touch him. At that moment the ship tilted and they were thrown together. Jack had no choice but to put his arms round her. He could feel her shuddering and then she began to hiccup. He could not bear the sound, reminded of the noise Philippe used to make when trying to stifle a sob after falling and grazing his hands. Jack was suddenly at the end of his tether.

  ‘Stop moaning, Anna! Get on to the bunk and take off your clothes,’ he ordered

  Anna was so taken aback by his words that she stopped hiccupping ‘That is an improper suggestion to make, Jack.’

  ‘Don’t be foolish! You could catch a chill and die! The last thought in my mind is of ravishing you.’

  ‘Well, I’m relieved to hear it. But—but I can’t do what you say because my—my hands are too cold.’

  She had scarcely got the words out when the ship tilted again and they were thrown apart. She ended up on top of the bunk whether she liked it or not. Jack dragged himself off the floor and climbed on to the foot of it. He reached for her hands and began to chafe them. There was no way he could trust himself to help her undress.

  ‘Ouch! That hurts. I th-think I must have a splinter down my nail from clawing at the deck.’

  He dropped her hands. ‘I’ll have to leave you.’

  ‘Of course. But you’ll have to undo my fastenings first.’ She could not wait to be rid of the horrible feel of the cold, wet material against her skin. And the bed was getting damp.

  Jack removed his sodden gloves and crouched over her. He had difficulty with the first fastening because the fabric was so wet, but at last it was undone. His fingers moved on to the second and he managed better this time. Then he came to the third one, but when the back of his hand brushed the upper curve of her breast, he knew that if he continued then he was in serious danger of losing control. He could only hope that she was unaware of what was stirring below. Only a few more buttons and then he was out of there.

  Chapter Six

  Anna was no green girl and her sluggish pulse began to increase as her cold body warmed in response to Jack’s arousal. She was aware that his breathing had deepened and his fingers had stilled. Perhaps he was waiting for the ship to roll the other way. In the meantime she had to think of something to take her thoughts away from the intimacy of their position.

  ‘T-tell me, Jack, do you know of a t-town called Domfront in N-Normandy? I thought that p-perhaps on your travels…’

  He was so relieved to hear her voice sound normal that he did not ponder why she should ask such a question. ‘It stands on a hill on the main road from Brittany to Paris.’ He spoke rapidly. ‘Eleanor of Aquitaine, the wife of the second Henry Plantagenet, was born there.’ He managed to undo the last fastening and sprang away from her like a scalded cat.

  ‘Wait!’ said Anna, stretching out a hand to him. ‘You have been to Domfront?’

  He was impatient to be gone, but was curious as to why she persisted with her questioning. ‘Aye. Why do you ask? Did Kate mention the town to you? As far as I know there are no relics there; although St Thomas Becket once stayed in the castle and celebrated mass in the church.’

  ‘Nay, not Kate. Just one more question, Jack, and then you can go. Did you ever meet the Comte d’Azay when you were there?’

  Jack stared at her in astonishment. ‘How do you know that name? What has Raoul to do with you?’

  ‘You know the Comte?’ Her voice rose almost to a squeak.

  ‘Aye. But now is not the time. Get out of those clothes and into dry ones. Stay here until the wind abates.’ He managed to get out of the cabin before she could ask him aught else.

  Anna hastened to do what he said and removed her sodden clothes. She was shivering again and trying to keep her balance as she reached for her drying cloth. She winced as one of her fingernails caught on the material and immediately inspected the nail. There was the tiny point of the splinter showing. Perhaps she could remove it without Jack’s help. Any more enforced closeness might embarrass them both and she did not want him to retreat into his shell again. She rubbed herself vigorously until her skin tingled, trying not to think about his arousal and her reaction. Schooling her wayward thoughts, she wondered how he knew her father. Had she misheard or had he really called the Comte by his Christian name? Ra-Raoul! He had also pronounced d’Azay slightly differently. How much did she dare ask Jack about her father without having to reveal her reason for asking?

  She donned her sole remaining clean undergarments and gown. If she told him the truth now, then she would have to admit to having lied to him about her reason for wanting to go to France. What would he think of her then? That she could not be trusted and possibly there might be some truth in Will and Hal’s accusations? She shivered. If they reached France, then she was going to need Jack’s help. Should she continue with the pretence of a pilgrimage?

  A rumbling in her tummy reminded her that she had not yet eaten. But she was going to have to remain hungry until the wind died down. She would pray the storm would abate and that they would safely reach land. In the meantime, she must remove the damp blanket, wrap herself in her cloak and try not to think about the ship capsizing.

  By evening the sea had calmed down enough for her to come out on deck. To her relief, she was assured by Peter Dunn that the grey smudge on the horizon, which she had thought was a cloud, was the coast of France.

  ‘By my reckoning it should be Brittany,’ he said.

  ‘Shall we go ashore there? Will it be safe?’ she asked with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

  ‘Never had much trouble with the Bretons in the past, although those roundabouts St Malo have been known to indulge in piracy—so much depends on where we make landfall. What with King Edward declaring war on King Louis, it could be that Master Jack will wait until we reach Normandy before going ashore.’ Peter gazed in the direction of the fo’csle. ‘Here he is now, so you could ask him yourself, Lady Fenwick.’

  Anna glanced over her shoulder and saw Jack approaching. His expression was stern and she wondered if he was annoyed with her about what had happened that morning. Whatever his mood, she decided not to wait for him to speak. ‘Good even, Jack. Peter tells me that is Brittany in the distance. Will we be going ashore there?’

  He narrowed his eyes as if calculating the distance to the coast from the ship. ‘Maybe on the morrow, we’ll get in closer and drop anchor in a secluded bay and take on fresh water.’ He glanced at Peter Dunn and indicated with a movement of his head that he wanted to speak privately to Anna. The mariner excused himself and walked away.

  Anna looked at Jack. ‘Where do you plan to set me ashore?’

  ‘If it is to Domfront you wish to travel, then you might as well remain on the ship until we reach the Normandy coast. Although if it was Raoul d’Azay you wish to meet, then I doubt you’ll find him there. I’m curious to know how you know Raoul’s name and your interest in him. I wondered if perhaps your husband had heard of him in connection with his being a collector of parchments. When last I saw Raoul, more than six years ago, he was doing a fair trade in them.’

  Now here was something that Anna had not even considered—that her father should have similar interests to Jack and her husband. Also Jack had given her a perfect opening to find out more about her father. ‘I never heard Giles speak of the Comte by his Christian name. You knew him well?’

  ‘Aye. We were friends.’

  That news did surprise Anna. Surely there must be a gap of fifteen years or more between their ages. ‘I was under the impression that he lived at Domfront, but you said I wouldn’t find him there.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘His father might have had kin there once, but that was years ago. He wasted Raoul’s inheritance, from what I have been told, and his lands were taken from him.’

  ‘How terrible! So where does the Comte live and how does he support himself?’

  ‘I first met him at a fair in Bruges. Likely now he belongs to the
newly formed French Company of Merchant Venturers in Vitré.’

  Anna sat down on one of the kegs and gathered her cloak about her for the air was cool after the storm. ‘I must say, I never thought of your meeting him in such a way.’

  ‘I’m surprised he never mentioned me to your husband, or vice versa—after all, Raoul knew of my interest in parchments and that I had kin in the Palatine of Chester.’

  Anna avoided his eyes. ‘Perhaps the Comte had his reasons. Can you tell me more about him?’

  ‘Why?’ Jack seated himself opposite her and his eyes narrowed as he scrutinised her delicate but strong features. ‘Now you have brought up the subject of Raoul, I am thinking is it possible that he is the main reason you wished to go to France and your excuse of a pilgrimage was thought up on the spur of the moment.’

  Anna coloured faintly. ‘It—it is true that I want to meet him, but…’

  ‘But what? You have lied to me, Anna!’ He had never felt so angry for a long time. ‘Is it that you met him when he visited Wales and the north of England the year I was abducted and you fell in love with him?’

  Anna did not heard the last few words. Her spirits had soared. ‘He came to England!’ she cried.

  ‘Perhaps now you’re a widow, you feel there is a future for the two of you, together,’ said Jack, glaring at her.

  ‘He came to England,’ she repeated happily. Had her father come in search of her, but Owain had sent him away, denying all knowledge of her?

  ‘Aye, he went to England,’ growled Jack. ‘We’ve established that! But do you plan to marry him? Was it to him you intended to give the parchments?’