Page 97 of Beyond the Lavender Fields
Gilles settled the cap down over his hair. It wasn’t as tight as his liberty cap, only snug enough to be comfortable. A path free of deterring brambles lay at his feet. It meant sacrificing everything he thought he wanted. But as he looked down the road before him, the light of an unknown and exciting future beamed in the distance. Gilles glanced between his brother and his mother and grinned.
12 September 1792
Marseille
CherGilles,
Our first night aboard was not terrible, but your father in his usual teasing way assures us it only gets worse from here. I believe him but cling to the hope that we will get used to the simple quarters. It will make us stronger for our new life in Saint-Malo.
It is hard to think that in a few hours, we will leave Marseille behind us forever. In May, I hated returning to this place. Now I am loath to leave. Isn’t it funny how your entire perspective of something can change just because of one person?
I want so badly to go above for one last look at the city. But mostly I wish for one last glimpse of you. Last night I dreamed you stowed away with us. I suppose I will have to content myself with that happy dream.
Affectueusement,
Marie-Caroline
A bright-eyed boy bounded up to Gilles, an awed grin on his face. How he had the energy to prance like that when they’d all been awake at such an abominable hour, Gilles would never know. Though he had probably been the same at twelve.
“Course is set, sir. Captain says you’re free to go below.”
Gilles nodded and winked, and the boy’s smile nearly split his face. He scampered off to his duties, leaving Gilles alone at the stern. Marseille’s port lay in the distance, painted in blue as it waited for the sun to come over the hill. He closed his eyes and could almost smell the earthiness of his great-uncle’s dewy vineyards and the sharp scent of a batch of soap ready to be stirred at thesavonnerie. He’d miss mornings in Marseille.
Faint footsteps pattered up to the quarterdeck and stopped at the stern rail near him. Gilles expected the fawning cabin boy, back to relay a message from the captain. Teasing words halted on his tongue when he saw his companion.
Caroline stared out across the bay, fingers gripping the rail tightly. She’d tied her hair back in a simple knot. Strands of it had already pulled loose in the brisk wind carrying them out to sea. She hadn’t looked at him yet. She must have thought him another crew member. He’d quickly gone to the hold after boarding last night, but all the Daubins had been asleep.
“You should still be below,” he said. “We haven’t cleared the bay.” Though the chance was slim, if someone on a nearby ship was looking for the Daubins and pointed their telescope atle Rossignol, they could recognize her.
“I know I should,” she said, turning to him. “I only wanted one last ...” Her mouth went slack. “Gilles?”
He threw her a grin to rival the new cabin boy’s. In a moment, she’d thrown her arms around his neck. “When they said the captain’s son had come aboard, I thought they meant your oldest brother.” He could barely make out her breathless voice.
“Victor captains his own boat these days.” That look of pure joy on her face made all the trouble of sneaking onto the ship under Martel’s nose worth it. He couldn’t recall the last time she’d really smiled.
She pulled back to look him in the eye. “But what are you doing here? What of your family? Montpellier?”
What a fool he’d been to think of letting her go. He tightened his arms around her. “My mother is a strong woman. I’ve recently learned not to cross strong women when they’ve set their minds to something.”
“I thought you swore never to return to sea.”
A ridiculous vow. Père was right—he was born for the wind’s caress and waves’ embrace. But perhaps more accurately ... for Caroline’s. “I have a friend who is a surgeon in Saint-Malo. He has asked me to be his apprentice.”
Caroline grasped his arms. The little white cockade she’d pinned to her jacket’s bodice rose and fell with her rapid breaths. “You’re coming with us to Saint-Malo?” She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “I’m still dreaming.”
Gilles chuckled. “It feels that way.” The ocean swished past the brig’s sides, quieting the crew’s chatter on the main deck behind them. This was as alone as they would get for weeks. “I thought your father could use help adjusting to his new employment.” As a clerk for Père’s brother, oddly enough. “And finding lodging for himself and your mother, since I know the city.” The words were tumbling from his mouth but not the ones he wished to say.
Caroline tilted her head. “No lodging for me?”
Gilles gulped. With all the wind rushing past, how was he short of air? “I had hoped ... That is to say, I wished to ask ...”Ciel, he was making a mess of things again. “My friend offered me lodging with the apprenticeship, and ...” Well, that was unromantic. Heat flared across his skin.
Caroline watched him, the corners of her lips creeping upward. “You wish me to live there with you.”
“I-I thought it might be nice,” he said with a shrug.
“Exactly what sort of arrangement are you proposing?”
Her alluring coyness, which he’d desperately missed the last weeks, had returned. Now he’d never be able to redirect the course of this conversation. “The sort of arrangement where I come home from a long day of work—”
