Both boys resisted reconciling themselves, none the less. They were used to being kingpins in a fatherless home. They viewed Gideon Jukes as an interloper and were sullen for some time. But sooner than they wanted to, they found they took to him. He made no fuss. His steadiness and likeability wore them down. Tom and Val responded well to having a happy mother; they were reassured by their new feeling of security.
Gideon's arrival expanded their horizons; they learned about printing, always had paper to write and draw on, got to know Miles — who owned a dog they liked; puppies were given to them and though they saw it as a bribe, they let themselves be suborned. They acquired relatives too. Once a week the family walked to Bread Street to dine with Anne and Lambert. Now Tom and Val not only had an aunt and uncle but childless ones, who loved children and generously spoiled them. They were always excited at going to the grocery shop, with its rich odours and endless supply of edible treats. Lambert took them to see the Trained Bands exercise at the Artillery Ground. Lambert and Gideon together arranged male expeditions, fishing and shooting, or watching ships on the river.
To Gideon, the life they led now was what he had been fighting for. The regular pulse of work he enjoyed and a domestic life he loved hardly changed his character, yet settled him and rounded him. He came into contentment. He wished his parents could have seen him so happy. He wished Robert had known of it.
Juliana was slower to accept her good fortune. Life had taught her distrust. For some time she felt she was playing at house in a game, that this new wonder would be taken away from her. Yet gradually she relaxed. This existence became normal. To be sure that her man would return home every evening stopped feeling like a luxury and seemed like a right. To lie safe in his arms through the night, every night, became reliable and normal. She was allowed to see his weaknesses, to wrangle with him, to consult him, to care for his welfare. As well as Gideon's constant devotion to her, she had the delight of his physical lovemaking.
'I have ten years of extremely chaste life to make up — ' Gideon declared.
'All tonight?'
'After ten years, it needs practice.'
'No, you remember how! — Enjoying it is a sin, you know.'
'Then both of us will go to the Devil!' answered Gideon with a gleam of glee that seemed both unexpected and delightful in a radical Independent.
To her joy, they read all the time. Juliana had not shared her love of books with anyone since her father's wits began to leave him. She and Gideon had every access to the printed word. Their shelves filled up with books. Rarely an evening passed without Gideon sitting with stockinged feet on the fender, reading aloud a news-sheet while Juliana plied some needlework. Separately and together they read books too.
Juliana accepted just how full her contentment was now. Sometimes she paused in her sewing to watch Gideon rebuild the sunken fire. It was one of his charms that he would do this — unlike Orlando Lovell, who deemed it his place to sprawl at leisure and have women tend the hearth, however black the evening when they must go out of doors to the coalshed, however steep the stairs up which they had to carry hods or scuttles. Gideon, by contrast, not only noticed when the embers were low but routinely fetched new fuel, without being asked, and he would automatically wash the coaldust off his hands afterwards to avoid black fingermarks. He was unquestionably the product of a mother who wanted him fit to live with; Juliana wished she could have known Parthenope Jukes. She wished she had Parthenope to advise on Tom and Val.
Of course, when he rinsed his hands Gideon always left the damp towel scrunched on a chair, but no man is perfect, despite the efforts of his mother. More often than not, he did remember not to leave the soap-ball sitting in a pool of water so it went slimy…
Whenever he caught Juliana watching him, Gideon cocked his head on one side like a speculating robin. They would survey one another in silence sometimes, wearing slight smiles. It was companionable, undemanding, satisfied. He knew she was learning his habits, his ways of moving, all his thoughts. He looked for and found a new peacefulness in the gaze of her grey eyes. He had achieved that; he knew it. At such moments, Juliana would notice a sigh waft though him very faintly, not from trouble but in emotion that she knew he welcomed.
So, in December 1654, since they both thought it certain they would never desert one another, nor would anything ever come between them, they married. At that period of the Interregnum, the legal form of marriage was civil; weddings were performed with the Independents' belief in minimal noise and ceremony. It suited them both. They presented their particulars to their local parish registrar. Banns could be called in church or the market-place; Gideon and Juliana opted for the market-place. Once their banns had been cried, the registrar gave them their certificate of publication. A justice of the peace accepted their certificate, their declarations that they were over twenty-one, and their honest explanation of the continuing absence and presumed death of Juliana's first husband. The JP had met such situations before and did not quibble. So, with Anne, Lambert, Catherine and Miles as their credible witnesses, they were married in due Commonwealth form: The man to be married, taking the woman to be married by the hand, shall plainly and distinctly pronounce these words:
'I Gideon Jukes, do here in the presence of God, the searcher of all hearts, take thee Juliana Lovell for my wedded wife; and do also in the presence of God, and before these witnesses, promise to be unto thee a loving and faithful husband.'
And then the woman, taking the man by the hand, shall plainly and distinctly pronounce these words:
'I Juliana Lovell, do here in the presence of God, the searcher of all hearts, take thee Gideon Jukes for my wedded husband; and do also in the presence of God, and before these witnesses, promise to be unto thee a loving, faithful and obedient Wife.'
Juliana dropped her eyes a little at 'obedient' — while Gideon smiled at it.
Certain of themselves, they shared none of the qualms others had that the bare new marriage service lacked validity. Not for them fiddlers, white dresses, riotous games with bridesmaids and bridesmen, lewd fumbling with garters or terrible wedding jokes. Nor did they trouble to use a wedding ring, that diabolical circle for the devil to dance in. They would be bound by mutual loyalty. All the solemnity they needed had come to them with the admission of their love. To celebrate, they gave a dinner at home for a small circle of family and friends, then simply went on with the life together that by then they had firmly established.
Chapter Seventy-Three — Hampshire and London: 1653
Orlando Lovell came ashore in Hampshire, sometime in early summer 1653, alone. He landed in a dapper cloak and an ash-grey suit, passing himself off as someone who travelled for education or business. He wore a sword like a gentleman. His baggage was compact and neat. He brought no horse, because Parliament imposed heavy customs duties on anyone importing horses into England unless they had obtained prior exemption from duty because they were diplomats. If Lovell thought of himself as a diplomat, it was not the kind who made formal addresses to the Lord Protector.
He bought a horse, finding it a good joke to cheat the man who sold it to him. Taking no trouble to hire a groom or other servant, he set about his personal business.
At this time, Lovell had not long been back in Europe. Earlier that year, a month before Oliver Cromwell lost his temper and dismissed the Rump Parliament, a disheartened Prince Rupert had returned to France from the West Indies, with Lovell in his company. While Rupert was devastated by the loss of his brother, Lovell's regret was a veneer. As he saw it, he had had a lucky escape, and not just from the hurricane. For the past three years he had led an adventurous life, but he had endured his fill of sailing.