Sunday morning, Isabella made ready to escort little Jackie, as she too had begun to call her, to church with her family. The estate had its own private chapel for the families and servants to attend.
Isabella had already found it once, tucked away in a grove of trees when walking with Jackie. It had looked spectacularly old and beautiful all at the same time. They had wandered around the small family graveyard next to it and even found Lord James buried there. The following day they collected some wildflowers to place on the grave.
Though Jackie had never met her father, Isabella thought it might be important for her to come and visit the grave site from time to time.
Isabella was also excited because, for the first time since she had arrived a week ago, the clouds had finally parted, and there was glorious sun shining down on God’s beautiful, green earth. She was sure that, though it was only a half-mile walk to the churchyard, the family would be riding in a carriage. She decided that Jackie and herself would walk and absorb some of the glorious sunshine.
For this reason, she had opted to wear a light cotton walking dress instead of the more delicate gowns that she might have worn to church back at Rosewater. She put on a full brim summer bonnet and her only pair of sturdy leather half boots. Adding a light shawl, she felt she was ready for the brisk walk to church.
She came to pick up her little pupil from Mrs. Murray and found her to be just as adequately dressed. She wore a fine, cream colored cotton dress with patterns of bluebells in striped fashion. It did wonders to bring out the clarity of the child’s azure eyes.
She too was wearing sturdy leather boots instead of silk slippers and even had a matching parasol for her and her little dolly, who sat by the window at the tea table to await their return.
Taking the child’s hand, Isabella thanked Mrs. Murray for all her efforts and skipped along down the stairs and out to the church.
They arrived at the churchyard just as a fine Barouche came rolling up on the main road. It was gleaming in the sunlight with a Wintercrest coat of arms painted on the side. Two cream colored horses trotted along in front. Inside, the duchess, duke, and their two children were sparkling in their most excellent wear.
Isabella heard Jackie give an audible "aw" sound as the carriage came around and pulled in front of the chapel.
“Doesn’t Her Grace look just like a queen?” Jackie whispered to her governess.
“Well, if that is true, then I shall have to start calling you Princess Jackie,” Isabella said in return.
The little girl laughed at the thought of being a princess and began to dance and twirl her small umbrella around the courtyard.
Isabella, however, watched as how Lord Bellfourd left the carriage first and then helped both his sister and mother in turn. After they were safely out of the transport, he grabbed a cane situated for his father and made sure that he, too, made it out safely. She studied Lord Bellfourd for a moment.
Today more than ever he looked like the real Marquess of Bellfourd. He was wearing high, dark brown boots, tan pantaloons, a dark navy waistcoat, and long black tailcoat. He looked dashing with his silk top hat; his hair pulled back with a simple, navy blue ribbon. It quite caught Isabella’s breath to watch him. She had to tell herself to look away.
He waited till his mother was adequately placed on his father's right arm before taking Lady Abigail’s in his arm and escorting her in. Both Lady Abigail and he were a vast contrast to the lady and lord of the drawing room just the night before.
Even Her Grace was much more poised and held an air around her. Sunday was an important affair, Isabella guessed, where their status as head of the house was put properly in its place before all the staff.
The duke, in Isabella’s mind, seemed to be the one who put propriety first, and the others were only doing so on his direct wish. Sunday, apparently, was a day that no exceptions could be made, in the eyes of the duke.
In fact, on the walk over, Jackie had informed Isabella that this would be her first time attending services with the family. Without a governess to escort her, she had been instructed to stay home with her nurse. It was still a wonder to Isabella that the duke, who had evidently brought the child to help him grieve the loss of his son, could then push her away and ostracize her from the rest of the family.
***
The church service went quite well. The sermon was lovely and, though Jackie could understand but a little of what was said, she kept still in her place on the pew behind the duke, duchess, and family.
Once the service was over, the servants who had followed behind the family now began to make their exit. The duke went up to the pastor to discuss that day's service while the rest of the family stood by. It was all so very proper, that Isabella had to mentally rub her eyes to distinct the lord before her, with the gentleman that gave little Jackie horsey rides in her school room.
Isabella hesitated, not sure if she should wait to present the child to the duke again. Deciding against it, she took Jackie's hand again and proceeded on their walk back to the manor.
She had scarcely left the churchyard when she heard the sound of feet quickly walking to catch up to her. She turned to see Lord Bellfourd coming their way, hat already removed and under one arm.
She curtsied respectfully to him, “Lord Bellfourd.”
“Miss Watts,” he said coming up to her. “I couldn’t bear to ride, even in an open carriage, on such an exceptional day. Would it be alright if I accompany little Jackie on her walk back home?”
“Oui! Please, Miss Watts! May he?” Jackie asked, swinging her little arm in Isabella's.
“Of course,” Isabella said, releasing the child and allowing her to hug her uncle.
Isabella watched them walk a few steps ahead before Lord Bellfourd stopped and turned back to her.
“Surely you will accompany us as well, Miss Watts?”
Lord Bellfourd had walked the gardens twice already with little Jackie and Isabella in the afternoons over the past week, but that was always with Mrs. Murray present as well. She wasn’t sure if it would be proper to walk alone with him now.
“Oui! Yes please, Miss Watts. Uncle Christian will tell us l’histoire de pirates while we marche.”
“Pirates?” Isabella asked, now too intrigued to care for propriety. She made her way up to meet them.
Without much thought to the action, Lord Bellfourd let out his free arm for Isabella to take and she slipped her hand into its crook. It felt nice to be treated like a lady again. It may have only been a week, but it had felt so long since she had been part of the world she had grown up in.
“I suppose I can tell you one tale of the high seas,” Lord Bellfourd started as they walked, “but only if you promise you won't get scared.”
“Oui, je promets.”
“Bien,” Lord Bellfourd said with a nod, then began to search his mind for a good story to share. “I will tell you of how I came to captain my own ship.”
He spoke with a little squint in his eyes as he expounded on his daring tale of life on a ship. The hardships, the vast emptiness, and keeping the men from mutiny against their captain.
Finally, he motioned them over to a small grove of trees off the path, which opened to a lovely pond. Isabella was so entranced by his tales, she hadn’t even noticed the divergence from the way home.
Without a blanket, Isabella and Jackie sat in the sun next to a large oak tree that Lord Bellfourd leaned on as he continued to weave his tale.
“But the ship you captained, Uncle Christian. Tell me of that,” Jackie encouraged.
“Well you see, I had just been made a commander and was sailing on the Queen Elizabeth. She was the fastest warship yet built by the Royal Navy. We were sailing in dangerous waters between the coast of Spain and France. Napoleon had just started his reign and tension was high. Only after a few weeks out, we spotted another British ship, a merchant ship. She was low in the water with cargo, and we easily sped up to meet her. Only when we got to her side, did we see that it was the French flag flying at her mast. She had been taken over by villainous pirates and the British crew, well the ones left, had been arrested and forced to work the ship sails in chains.”
Jackie's eyes were now as big as teacups and Lord Bellfourd smiled in pleasure. He was a fantastic storyteller, indeed.
“Of course, we opened fire on her determined to see her sunk or back in British hands. The battle was a fierce one. The sound of cannon fire was deafening, but there was no way for such a heavy ship to escape. Finally, we boarded her, myself included. With pistol and sword in hand, we finally took control of the ship.”
He paused for dramatic effect. It wasn’t lost on his audience.
“We learned that the ship had sailed from a Spanish port set for England. It was filled with rice and spices from India. With the French pirates under control, we took back the ship. Unfortunately, the captain and first mate had been among the first executed by the pirates. The ship had no one to lead the few sailors remaining back home.
The commanding officer, Captain Johnson, ordered myself and a few men of my choosing to stay on the merchant ship and see that she sailed safely home. He would navigate ahead, with the speed of the Queen Elizabeth, to prepare for our arrival. You see, the merchant ship was severely damaged from the fight, and assistance would be needed upon her arrival to port. It was my first command as captain of a vessel and I couldn’t have been more excited about it.
We watched the Queenie sail on ahead and made ready ourselves, making any repairs as was needed. One thing that was particularly worrisome was a hole in the port side just at the water line. Water had been spilling into her. First, we stopped the hole as best as possible, fashioning a patch with one of the smaller sails. Then we began pumping out the water.
All seemed right and we set out on our way. By the middle of the night, though, we started to hear a curious groaning from below deck. Now, all ships groan and each one makes their own unique symphony, so we paid no attention to it. By morning, however, we noticed that the boards of the deck were moving. They had separated and swelled away from each other and began to sway with the rocking of the ship.
I thought, at first, that the sail had not held in plugging the hole and went to inspect it over the side of the vessel. Much to my surprise, I could not see any portion of the sail in the early morning light. We had sunk so deep that it was entirely underwater now. I had my men go back down to inspect the cargo and see if it was again flooded with water. If we needed to, we would pump water day and night to keep it afloat.
Though some water was dripping through the pressure of the canvas, it wasn't nearly enough to be flooding and weighing down the ship. Then I came down myself to inspect what could be the cause. I realized then that the bags of rice butted up to that particular wall of the ship. Do you know what happens to rice when it touches water?”
Jackie shook her head excitedly.
“Well, it soaks up that water and expands bigger, much like bread soaking up milk. Even though we had stopped up the plug well enough, all the bags of rice had been flooded with water and now were swelling and expanding; literally weighing the ship down and pushing on the walls of the hull.
I called all my men down and began to have them haul the bags of rice away from the walls, up on the deck and over the side. It was better to get rid of the cargo than to lose the whole ship, you see. We worked for hours, carrying fifty-pound bags on our shoulders up and over the side of the boat.
After a whole day of this, we seemed to be making no progress. The ship was still swelling under the weight of all the rice expanding below. The vessel had already sunk so low into the water, that one could almost touch it from the deck.
It was then we discovered something much more sinister. Under one of the bags of rice, along the haul, was a second hole that had been spilling in and pouring on to the bags of rice. So low was it, though, that all the water was soaked up before it even made it out past the piles of grain.
I determined, at this point, that there was no hope to save the ship. We had to abandon ship in the middle of the sea with little hope of being rescued. I piled my men, the merchant sailors, and the imprisoned French pirates onto three lifeboats. I had been captain for only twenty-four hours before having to give my post to the depths of the sea.”
“What happened to you?” Isabella asked, forgetting herself. She was so enraptured by the tale, she had forgotten he was telling the story for the benefit of Jackie, not herself. She blushed, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” Lord Bellfourd said with a soft smile. He turned back to Jackie to finish the story but now glanced at Miss Watts from time to time. “We were in our lifeboats for three days. We tied them together to keep from losing each other. I had taken the boat with the prisoners to keep them from revolting. On the night of the third day, a great storm came and blew us around like a cork in a bottle all night long. By morning, we were still together but had no idea where we were. Did we get pushed back toward France? Had we blown south toward the tip of Spain? Or perhaps, did Poseidon himself give us this storm to hurry us on home?”
“Which one was it, Uncle?”
“France, sadly,” he said, to both of our audible gasps. “We had just spotted the coast, maybe twenty miles in the distance, when a French ship made its way from a port, no doubt spying on us.
Fearing capture ourselves, I did the only thing I could think of- I cut my boat with the prisoners loose, hopped on a boat with my own men, and rowed for our very lives in the opposite direction. Certainly, our only hope was that the French would take their own men and leave us be.
We weren’t entirely sure we would be so lucky when out of the west came Queenie herself, back for another round of patrol. They had expected us to be in port with the merchant ship by then, and were surprised to find us floating so close to France in nothing but little row boats. They scooped us up and we were again in the safety of Queen Elizabeth’s belly.”
“And so, for one day you were captain of a ship?” Isabella said with awe.
“Well, technically four, because I captained the rowboats as well,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Both girls giggled at this.
“The commanding officer of the Queenie so appreciated the care I took of the men on the ship, that he recommended me for captain on our next port call. A year later, it was made official.”
“I can imagine so. To keep such a clear head in the midst of one travesty after the other,” Isabella said in awe.
“Did you find any mermaids?” Jackie asked on an entirely different train of thought.
“Loads,” Lord Bellfourd said, standing and helping little Jackie out of the grass. “Only you had to stay away from them. They would sing you into a trance until you sailed your boat onto unseen rocks.”
“Mermaids don’t do that,” Jackie said quite sure of herself.
“Oh, pardon me. You’re right. They were sirens,” he said, offering a hand to Miss Watts as well.
“Sirens, you say,” Isabella retorted skeptically, taking his hand.
“Yes, I always seem to find myself entranced by beautiful women raised under the influence of the seas.”
Isabella blushed immensely as he pierced her with his eyes.
Finally, he turned to little Jackie and whispered, “The green-eyed ones are, by far, the hardest to ignore.”
She giggled, “Uncle Christian, I think you are making that up. There are no such things as sirens.”
“Oh, yes there are. You must ask your governess to tell you all about them next week,” he said with a wicked grin in Isabella’s direction.