The small boat arrived on the Brittany coast at dawn. It had been an uncomfortable crossing and Isabella and Lisette disembarked with relief. The only person who had slept was small Thomas, who lay in his father’s arms throughout the voyage.
A gentleman was leaning on the quay wall waiting for them. He introduced himself as a Captain Abrahams. He saw Isabella shivering and suggested they all boarded his vessel without delay so that she might drink tea to revive her and then she could rest in her cabin. He called them Mr and Mrs Foye and guided them quickly in the dark to the vessel which was moored to the quay. Isabella saw with a shock that it was the Lady Isabella.
I have booked you on the safest vessel I know. She turned to Tom and saw that he knew and the irony was not lost on him. She looked upon the wooden features of herself and her fear rose again. Was it wise to escape to a new life on her husband’s ship? She kept her hood tight around her head as she was helped aboard. She did not know how much the captain knew of their circumstances.
They were shown to their cabins. Tom and Isabella in one, with Lisette and the baby next door. The captain smiled before he left them.
‘I am very happy to have you onboard my ship. Mr Vyvyan and my father grew up together and we have long owed him a favour … I hope you will be comfortable. We set sail within the hour.’
Isabella sank down onto the small bunk.
‘Tom,’ she said, ‘to sail on the Lady Isabella … is it not perverse? Is it not bad luck?’
Tom looked down on her.‘The Lady Isabella is bound for Newfoundland, Isabella, and Sir Richard is no longer the owner. He sold the schooner on to your father. There were passages to be had on her and your father knows the captain, and most of all, as faras he was concerned, this is the safest and most comfortable ship there is.’
Isabella sighed. ‘You are right. I am tired and anxious and it seems odd to be on this ship, that is all.’
She looked around and tried to cheer herself. ‘I had forgotten how comfortable you and Ben made the cabins.’ She smiled. ‘Perhaps you are right, Tom, this is going to be a more comfortable voyage than we have had so far.’
Lisette changed Thomas and then handed him to Isabella.
‘Feed Thomas, Miss Isabella, and then I will come and take him while you sleep.’
‘I do not think I will sleep until we are underway.’
Lisette went to her own cabin and Tom undid his case and took out a thick fisherman’s jersey and hat.
‘I am too restless to stay still, Isabella. I will go up on deck while you feed young Thomas. I am not far away. I think it best that you and Lisette keep to your cabins until after we have sailed.’
Isabella lay on her bunk with the baby at her breast.
She crooned softly to Thomas. He was happy and as he lay in her arms he suddenly smiled at Isabella and she laughed with delight.
‘Thomas smiled, Lisette,’ Isabella said as Lisette came into the cabin.
Lisette laughed. ‘I think my little bird has the wind. The sun is about to rise, Miss Isabella, on a new day.’
They stared at each other. Neither could really believe they were leaving England.
‘You are brave to accompany me, Lisette. I am so glad to have you with me. We have been through much, you and I, have we not?’
‘We have indeed, Miss Isabella. I surprise myself at journeying at my age, but I looked after you and I will look after my little Thomas until he no longer needs me.’
‘He is very lucky. Will you leave him with me? He is so cosy here and fast asleep.’
‘No, Miss Isabella, you must rest. You are exhausted and feeding Thomas. I will return him to you in an hour or so.’
Isabella kissed the top of Thomas’s head and handed him to Lisette. Then she slept almost immediately. She stirred when the gangplank was withdrawn. She faintly heard the sound of the ropes and chains and footsteps about the deck but slept again, the deep, exhausted sleep of someone who had not slept for days.
There was a sudden draught as the cabin door opened, then it was quickly shut again, but Isabella did not stir.
Tom watched the sun edge over the land and turn the new day a brilliant gold that sparkled across the water. This was a new beginning. He was responsible for two lives, not just his own. He thought of the voyage ahead and prayed for good weather and a safe passage.
Behind him the ship was all activity as they made ready to sail. Relatives and friends were making hasty goodbyes. He heard the gangplank pulled up and turned suddenly with a need to make sure all was well below.
He caught a snatch of colour on the quay, three people walking quickly away from the ship. The gap between land and sea was widening. He clattered down the steps to the cabins. Lisette’s cabin door was ajar and he leant inside but it was empty. He pushed his own cabin door open and Isabella was sitting upright trying to wake up. She stared at him, trying to remember where she was, and Tom went to her, gently pushed her hair from her eyes, said, ‘Did Lisette take the baby on deck?’
Isabella looked at him. ‘I fell asleep. I think they are in her cabin, next door.’
‘I will go and look for her. Lie back and wake up slowly.’
Tom went into Lisette’s cabin and looked around. Her luggage was there and her cloak. He went back on deck and walked right around a ship he knew every inch of. For a moment he leant on the rail and fought his fear.
He went to find the captain. He listened to Tom and then sent two sailors to search again round the ship and in each cabin. The Lady Isabella was not a large vessel and there were few places for a woman and baby to disappear into.
It was then the second mate knocked on the door.
‘Captain, it was just as the last guests were leaving. A woman between two men was being pushed towards the gangplank. I saw her anxiety and that she was carrying a child, but as I went towards the gangway to help her the two men caught her up and with a flourish lifted her off her feet and off the ship and away, one taking the baby for her. I thought no more about it … but now … I’m sorry I did not say anything …’
Tom turned pale and hurried back to Isabella. She was standing in Lisette’s cabin holding a letter.
‘Where is Lisette, Tom? Where is the baby?’
‘What have you got there?’
‘I have just picked it up from the floor.’
Tom tore it open.
We have the authority of the English courts and the French police to make the arrest of Lady Isabella Magor for the abduction of Sir Richard Magor’s son, Richard Daniel Charles Magor, aged two months. A court order was gained on … forbidding his removal from English soil pending the custody hearing in June … Lady Isabella Magor’s arrest May be avoided if the child is returned forthwith to his legal father …
Isabella stared at Tom, clutched him, knew by his face. ‘Where are Lisette and the baby, Tom?’
‘They are gone from the ship, Isabella,’ Tom whispered. ‘Taken.’
He saw again that flash of colour, the two men bundling someone between them. ‘Come, we must go to the captain.’
Isabella gave a long, low, agonizing moan of despair and Tom was reminded of the cows in the fields when their calves were taken, heads raised to the sky in an endless lament.
‘Come,’ he said gently.
The captain looked down at the piece of paper.
‘I doubt this is a genuine legal document. The words seem couched to frighten …’
He hesitated. ‘Unfortunately Sir Richard is a very influential and powerful man. A lot of our jobs ride on his recommendation. Did you know he sold the Lady Isabella to your father only three weeks ago? It was difficult to understand why when the tonnage is good, but …’ he stared at Isabella, ‘… I understand now. Your likeness to the figurehead is profound …’
He stopped, seeing her distress. ‘I am sorry; this is nothing to you at this moment. We stop briefly at Cadiz for two more passengers; I will go to the British Consul as soon as we arrive. I am sorry, I can do no more than this at present.’
He stood up and went round his desk to stand with them.
‘I was asked to take care of you and it seems I did not take the request seriously enough, knowing none of the circumstances. The only comfort, Lady Isabella, is that your baby will not come to harm. He will, in these circumstances, be given the greatest care.’
‘He is only two months old,’ Isabella whispered, then vehemently, ‘I have not been Lady Isabella for some time. I do not use that title.’
‘I am so very sorry,’ the captain said again.
‘Thank you,’ Tom said, ‘I do not think there is anything you could have done to prevent this. It would have been executed in one way or another. In one place or another.’
Back in their cabin Tom ordered tea and made Isabella drink, helped her undress and placed her under the covers. She whimpered like a small animal and it broke Tom’s heart.
‘Hold me,’ she whispered. ‘Hold me, Tom.’
He climbed into the tiny bunk and lay awkwardly holding her until he thought she slept, and then he fell into a restless sleep himself. He woke and her skin was burning, her petticoats sodden and she could not speak to him coherently.
Tom went to the jug and bathed her face, and then frightened he went out to find help. There was a middle-aged woman taking a turn round the deck and Tom asked her if she would come to look at his wife who was unwell. The woman went with him willingly and bent immediately to Isabella.
‘Where is your child?’ she asked Isabella. ‘You need to feed the child.’
Tom could not answer and just shook his head.
The woman, thinking Isabella’s child must have died, said, ‘Oh the poor dear. Will you please call the steward and would you mind going to my cabin, number twenty-four, and calling my daughter to come and assist me with your wife?’
Tom left the women and went up on deck. There was a sudden and terrible heaviness in him. He moved to the front of the ship, watching the water racing past the gown of his figurehead. Her head was raised proudly in front of the ship. Lady Isabella.
He had brought this about. Isabella might now be standing in her garden at Mylor, bored perhaps, but safe. Not enduring a fever on a ship going hundreds of miles to a place she could not even imagine, without her child.
He had seen how tight and painful her breasts were. How she flinched when touched. How would those women fix her heart? A woman whose baby had been snatched so cruelly from her.
When Tom returned to the cabin Isabella looked cooler. The two women had bound her breasts tightly to try and stop the milk coming and Tom felt awkward and useless and to blame.
He kept thinking of his tiny son taken from under his nose and guilt and tiredness made him want to curl into a ball. He had done nothing but travel for months to reach Isabella and his child, and when he reached them he was incapable of protecting either.
Isabella, seeing his face, held out her hand. ‘Tom, it is not your fault. I know that is what you are thinking.’
‘It is. Isabella, are you feeling better?’
‘I will for a little while, but the pain will return. Tom, poor Lisette, she must have been so frightened.’
‘She will not let anything happen to her Thomas.’
‘That is true.’
‘I think Sir Richard may not have the law on his side.’
‘Tom, how will Lisette feed Thomas? He will be so hungry. He is still so small.’
‘I think your husband will have thought of that. He has thought carefully about many things concerning you and the baby. He will not hurt Thomas; he merely wants to own him.’
‘But he cannot, he is our baby.’
‘We will reach Cadiz in two or three days and the captain will wait for the mail boat while oranges are loaded. I hope we have word from your father while we are there.’
There was no word waiting when they arrived in Cadiz. The captain went to the British Consul and found them unhelpful. There really was nothing they could do. No crime had been committed on Spanish soil. It was an internal matter for the French and English authorities.
He returned to the ship. He was sorry, he told Tom, but he could not delay the sailing of his ship for more than a day. There were other passengers and too much money involved in the timing of their destination.
Isabella and Tom dared not alight from the ship. Tom was afraid now of Sir Richard’s extended powers and terrified Isabella too would be taken from him. They were standing at the rail, four hours from sailing, when they saw the Peninsular Steam Navigation Company appear over the horizon carrying the mail from Falmouth.
Isabella stood clutching Tom, praying there was word from her father.
There was. It was short and to the point and obvious he had written in a hurry to catch the mail boat.
My Dear Daughter,
I am afraid all is as I feared. My grandson and Lisette are returned to England in custody of the court. They are both safe and well. Lisette is still in charge of Thomas in Falmouth and she has employed a wet nurse.
Isabella, were you aware that your husband had registered himself as the father of your child? This is a legal document and it will be most difficult to disprove him as the father who has a right to his son and heir. I understand he is prepared to make Lisette swear that he had knowledge of you during your time at the Summer House or he will separate her from Thomas.
Isabella, do not disembark but proceed on your journey. I will not have you dragged through the courts by a man deranged. I will start to put my own case as well as yours to the lawyers but this will take many, many months.
My child, I can only imagine what you must be feeling. I regret that, against my better judgement, I waited too long to help you.
Take comfort that Charlotte and I will never lose sight of our grandson and that Lisette is with him and that no harm will come to him, save that he has lost his mama, and I my beloved daughter.
I will get word to you in Prince Edward Island and with the advent of steam and faster ships the distance between us all will grow less …
I remain, your loving father.
Isabella was very still. There was such relief that she had had word of Thomas; that he was safe and that he was still with Lisette. But her heart was like stone. She knew deep, deep inside her that she would never see her small son again. He would be called another name and would have no memory of her.
They left Cadiz. Left it in a golden and beautiful haze that could not touch their misery and guilt. Isabella turned to Tom.
‘Tom, we did wrong. I humiliated a proud man and this is my punishment.’
Tom could not answer, turned away from the wretchedness of Isabella’s pale, drawn face.
Isabella moved forward to the prow, her back to the land. Her profile matched that of the figurehead, carried the same expression of haunting sadness. A seaman raising a for’ard sail looked down at the mirror image of their figurehead and shivered. Stared at the woman, this rumoured Lady Isabella, and thought it was not a good omen.
The captain too looked down and was uneasy. He wished he was not carrying this beautiful woman. The start of this voyage had been inauspicious, bedevilled with setback. The crew were apprehensive. It was a long, perilous voyage and they needed fair winds, luck, and God to go with them.
The crew were proud of their ship and of their figurehead but they were superstitious. The figurehead on the prow, resolute and immobile, was to guard them from all ills. They were afraid to cast their eyes upon the flesh and blood woman with her terrible air of loss.