“Bugger!” I said, and Abigail looked horrified at me.
“I missed it,” I explained.
She smiled, as Roger came in.
“Are you all right, Abigail?” he asked.
“Yes sir, thank you sir. You was wonderful, sir.”
He smiled and looked at me.
“You’re a complete sod. You knew I wanted to watch and that I was feeding, but you wouldn’t wait for me, would you?” I said, in mock anger.
“You are so beautiful when you get angry.”
“I’ll give you angry,” I said, and he came over to me, so Abigail looked quite fearful.
But when he embraced me, carefully as Emily was still feeding, and kissed me soundly, the girl smiled in relief.
“Well done. That sorted the bully out,” I said.
“I doubt that we’ve seen the end of him. The Captain thinks that the Americans won’t be able to do much, so he will be free again in no time.”
“What about his poor wife and daughter, they shouldn’t have to put up with him?”
There was a knock on the door, which Abigail answered.
It was Phyllis Banyard with her daughter. Both were crying.
“Come in, my dears, we won’t hurt you,” said my husband.
Mrs Banyard broke down in tears and sobbed her little heart out, clutching at Roger.
He assisted her to sit in the chair next to me, where she finally managed to pull herself together.
“Oh, I am so unhappy. He is taking me away from my friends and family. He is so full of his big ideas in the new world, but I am so afraid. He was fine when we were first wed, but after Sophia was born, he took to beating me. Not often at first, but it got worse and worse. I once tried to run away, but he found me, and I was so sore, I couldn’t get out of bed for a week. Now he beats Sophie too, what do I do?”
“You have two choices, as I see it. You let the Captain hand him over to the authorities in Virginia, and let justice prevail. Then you either stay in America and find some position that you can earn a living and keep your children, or you turn round and go home without your husband,” Roger said.
“But sir, I have no money, he has spent every penny we have on the land in Georgia. Even if I could afford the passage home, where would I go, what would I do?”
“Do you have a trade, Phyllis?” I asked.
“I used to be a dressmaker, but I could not afford a shop, or anything,” she said.
I looked at Roger. He caught my look and smiled. He knew me well enough by now, so he knew exactly what I was thinking.
He shrugged and nodded.
“Mrs Banyard, I am in a position of urgently needing a dressmaker, and am prepared to set you up in a small establishment in Virginia, and will get you started. But I will own 51% of your business, until such time as you can pay me off. That way I get a return from my investment, and you get to run a business without any worries about bank loans or foreclosure.”
She stared at me, utterly amazed that anyone would offer this sort of arrangement to her.
“Your Ladyship, are you sure?”
“Absolutely. I have two daughters, and my sister in law has a daughter. There is my maid, my cook, and so our family alone will give you seven women to cater for.”
“I’ve had an idea,” Roger said with a smile, and left us alone for a moment.
He came back a short while later.
“I’ve just spoken to the Captain and given him a letter to hand to the local military commander in Southampton. He has agreed to take Mr Banyard home again on the return voyage, and hand him over to the military authorities on the basis of my letter. You see, I was part of the campaign in Spain, whereby the army was supplied with unfit meat. And I know that his Grace the Duke was determined to find some of those responsible. So my letter is addressed to his Grace, and hopefully, he will seek to make an example of dear Mr Banyard.”
“Oh. Roger you are clever. I thought we should just throw him over the side,” I said, and Mrs Banyard looked at me in horror.
“Mrs. Banyard, my wife is making a joke. She does this frequently, but rarely in good taste. If you come to know her, you will soon get used to it,” Roger said, and I grinned.
It was agreed; so she retired to her cabin a much happier soul. Roger came over to me.
“So, where is the money coming from?”
“I have some saved up.”
“Enough?”
“I hope so.”
“You are too nice for your own good.”
“I know. But at least I will have my own dressmaker.”
“You don’t even know if she is any good.”
“Have you seen her daughter’s dresses?”
“Not really, why?”
“I think that she made them and they are really well done. If she did, then she is very gifted indeed.”
We saw land a few days later, and what a lovely sight it was too. I stood at the rail with my husband and the children, staring at my spiritual home. It was amazing that this was where I was to be born in over one hundred years’ time.
“The New World,” Roger said.
“Same old world, just a different bit,” I said.
“Where is the romance in your soul?” he asked, chuckling.
“Roger, I shall be very glad to set foot on dry land again.”
He put an arm around me. “So shall I, my dear, so shall I.”
The crew knew the end was nigh, and seemed to take on a new lease of life. They started tidying the ship as we drew ever closer to landfall. Paint appeared and they washed the decks. Ropes were cleaned and coiled neatly. Everyone seemed happier with life.
It was a blessed relief as we tied up at Norfolk, and the quayside was a riot of colour and activity. Half-naked Negroes, dock-workers and sailors worked like ants loading and unloading the many craft that lay along side the quays. Masts littered the skyline as far as the eye could see, while seagulls whirled and dived everywhere, with their raucous calls announcing their presence. It was truly an amazing sight, and one that I could never have imagined from my 20th century perspective.
There were some choice smells that accompanied the jostling folk, - fish, horse manure and human waste among the choicest. Horses, carts and carriages jostled to and fro, with ladies and gentlemen mixing with the workers, as the daily business was done. Many scruffy children darted hither and thither, seeking, no doubt, to steal anything that was not tied down.
The yells of the stevedores mixed with the seagulls, to provide a cacophony of sound that rivalled the smells that wafted our way in the gentle breeze.
“Roger!” A shout came from the quayside.
I looked down, to see a broad man who looked very like Roger. This could only be his brother, James.
“James!” replied my husband, and was down the gangplank in a thrice. They embraced on the quayside while I watched them from the rail above.
James was slightly shorter than Roger, yet he was very stocky. He had a powerful set of shoulders on a very sturdy frame, with a tanned face with remarkably short hair above. He was dressed in pale riding breeches, a yellow waistcoat and a plain tan jacket. A plain black tri-corn hat was in his hand.
The two brothers were laughing and exchanging tales, until finally Roger turned and waved to me.
“Jane, bring the children, come and meet Uncle James.”
I carefully supervised the children’s descent to dry land, grateful when we had all made it. We approached the pair, and I immediately became aware of James’s gaze towards me. It was unashamedly admiring, and I could detect more than a hint of sexual desire. However, I was polite as Roger introduced him.
James took my hand, pressing it to his lips.
“Dear sister-in-law. I am so pleased to meet you. Your courage to set forth on such a journey with so small a child amazes me,” he said, turning to his brother, still holding my hand.
“Roger, you old devil. How on earth did you snare the most beautiful woman in England?”