Page 88 of Echo in the Wind

His quartermaster had wanted to ride on top with the driver, now armed, but Jean would not hear of it. With both his pistols poised and ready, he took Émile’s place, climbing on top and ordering the driver to depart.

As the carriage hurtled down the road, Jean scanned the long rows of vines and the ripening grapes, wondering when he might return. It would not be soon. Perhaps in winter when the grapes were harvested.

Since Joanna and Zoé were with him, he had all he wanted from Saintonge.

Chapter 21

Lorient, France

It took Jean and his crew a day to sail from La Rochelle to Lorient. They arrived midday to find his three-masted sloop waiting for him.

The figurehead on the prow, a woman in a flowing gown, had a new coat of paint on her long hair, rendering it the color of a red fox. On the stern, the new name, la Renarde, in gold script spoke of the auburn-haired beauty for whom it was named.

The ship’s rigging had been changed to square sails for the Channel instead of fore and aft for the Atlantic crossing. And some cargo space had been sacrificed to add two more cabins and a temporary bulkhead separating the stern cabins from his crew’s quarters in the forecastle.

He’d had his cat, Franklin, transferred from la Reine Noire to the sloop, but given the way he followed Joanna about, the cat might have managed the transfer on his own.

Jean escorted Joanna, Zoé and Gabrielle up the gangplank to the deck of the sloop where his cabin boy waited. “Gabe can show you to your cabins. Instead of crowding into mine, you will have two, smaller but yours alone. I suggest you take one of them, Lady Joanna, and your maid and my niece the other, but if you prefer a different arrangement, that is fine.”

Joanna met his gaze. She had to know there was a purpose in the new arrangement that was different from that on la Reine Noire. Hoping the vixen would join him, he’d also had a larger shelf bed installed in the captain’s cabin. Since they had left Saintonge, he’d not had a moment alone with her and the thought of their being together brought his body alive.

“How long will it take to get to Le Havre?” asked Zoé, her gray eyes alight with interest as she watched the crew making ready to set sail. His niece had enjoyed their journey north and never once became seasick even though they’d had rough seas for part of the time.

“A day and a half with favorable winds. We will sail tomorrow with the evening tide and should arrive in Le Havre in time for supper the next day. Then on to Paris.”

Then to Joanna, “While there is still time today, you must visit Madame Provot. She has some new gowns for you and my niece.”

Zoé beamed her happiness and followed Joanna and her maid as they went below.

He shouted after them, “M’sieur Bequel will take you to Madame Provot’s and return you to the ship for supper!”

Madame Provot welcomed Joanna and Zoé as they entered her shop, ushering them into the inner room where her assistants bustled around, hanging gowns on the pegs. These gowns were more ornate, more elaborately decorated than the other ones the modiste had made for Joanna.

“Capitaine Donet was most specific in his instructions,” she said as she fidgeted with the gowns. “As if I do not know what is required for Paris. I was trained there!”

Flavie helped Joanna to undress and Madame Provot slipped a gown over her head. Another assistant was helping Zoé who appeared delighted to be receiving the attention paid a young woman.

“I am sorry to be so much trouble,” said Joanna in an effort to soothe the modiste’s temper.

“You are no trouble but the capitaine, impatient as always, insists on haste. How am I to create a masterpiece in haste?”

Joanna smiled encouragingly at the petite woman. “Oh, but you have.”

Madame Provot laced her tight, more from her mood than Joanna’s need. At least her wound no longer pained her. The gown’s ivory silk, embroidered with flowers, was beautiful.

“The gown is lovely,” Joanna remarked.

In a calmer voice than before, the modiste said, “Oui, the capitaine has excellent taste. And with you, Mademoiselle, he is most particular.”

Joanna wasn’t certain how to take that. Was it for his own sake and the reception she might receive at the French Court that he cared so much about her gowns? Or, did his feelings run deeper?

They were with the modiste for some time before she and Zoé dressed and returned to the antechamber where M’sieur Bequel waited, no more patiently than had his captain.

“Ye are done?” he inquired, his heavy brows raised in hope.

The modiste answered for Joanna. “Oui, nous avons terminé. The gowns shall be delivered to the ship tomorrow afternoon.”

“Bien, but do not be late, Madame. Tomorrow, we sail on the evening tide.”