Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter. Cathy’s First Letter.
16 August 1023, Bois-de-Bas, Armorica
Amelia,
I suppose I feel compelled to write to you because you know the whole of the matter, the only one who does other than John, and I must share my thoughts with someone or go mad. Writing anything to John other than the bare facts of my safe arrival is useless. He will be glad that I am safe, and then will proceed to answer my questions as to his latest progress whether I asked them or not.
But Armand has assured me that he will happily include any letters I might write you in a pouch with his own, so I need not consider the postage.
We arrived in Mont-Havre in the early morning yesterday, touched down briefly on the roof of an establishment called Suprenant et Fils, and then flew on to Bois-de-Bas.
I spent that day in a state of increasing apprehension, diverted only slightly by the islands and other specks of earth I saw floating in the sky along the way. One never sees such things in Cumbria, and yet here it seems that they are too common to remark upon.
We landed at Tuppenny Wagons in the late afternoon. Captain Grier had spoken of the place often during our journey, and so I fear I had built it up into rather a grand establishment in my head—grand for Nexing Cross, at least. Instead, I found a collection of barns, arranged more or less in ranks, and accompanied by the sweet and dusty smell of sawdust. Near the center stood what looked more like a rustic house than any kind of place of business, and moreover one that had grown erratically over the course of years—though all the woodwork seemed quite new.
Captain Grier brought us down near the house to what was clearly the Amelie‘s usual moorings, and escorted me across a short gang-plank and down some stairs.
“Don’t worry about your belongings, Miss Gamble,” he said. “The men and I will get them wherever they need to be after you speak with Mr. Tuppenny.”
I thought he would take me to the house, but after inquiring of a passing workman he led me to a smaller barn that stood by it. Within the open doors we found two men, both wearing workmen’s aprons and covered in sawdust, standing by some kind of construction on a workbench. The older of the two looked over as we entered.
“Captain Grier,” he said. “And—”
“Miss Gamble, sir,” said Grier. “Miss Gamble, this is Mr. Tuppenny.”
“Miss Gamble, is it?” he said. “Luc, perhaps you could check on the wagons in #3; they should be ready for you by now.”
The younger man said “Yes, sir,” and departed, flashing a smile at me as he past. The much younger man, I should say, though I suppose you have met him.
Your cousin then looked at Grier, who handed him a letter. “From Mrs. Archer, sir.”
“Perhaps you should read it before we talk, Mr. Tuppenny,” I said.
“Very well,” he said. “Come this way, Miss Gamble.” He hung up his apron, and after brushing himself down led me around and into the house, to a sitting room near the front door. He waved me into an armchair, and took a seat opposite me.
“Pardon me,” he said, and opened and read your letter. His eyebrows went up several times. He folded it when he was done, and said, “What can I do for you, Miss Gamble? Or, should I say, Mrs. Sloane-Price? Amelia wrote to me about you and your brother some years ago.”
“Miss Gamble, please,” I said. “Bartholomew Sloane-Price and I were never married, and in any event he has been dead for quite a time, though I did not know it. And as for what you can do for me, well.” And then I plucked up all the courage I could manage and spilled the lot. I hated to do it, but I had promised you that I would.
“I didn’t want to leave Cumbria,” I said at the end, “but I had already destroyed one man’s life. I couldn’t bear to destroy another. So, here I am.”
He was silent for some time. At least, he said, “Keep to that resolve, Miss Gamble, and you shall have my continued discretion. Amelia directed you to trust me with this, so I suppose I can do no less. And I quite understand the need to make a new start. But I am not pleased to have you here.”
I nodded. “I didn’t suppose you would be. Thank you for your honesty.”
“Now,” he said, “tell me about your brother and his ‘creations’.”
I did so, at some length; and he nodded. “I see why Amelia sent you to me.” He pursed his lips. “There is a room here at the wagonworks that we keep for visitors, but you would need to take your meals at the inn nearby. I presume you wish to avoid scandal?”
“Most sincerely,” I said. “I have had quite enough of it.”
“Very well. You will stay with us tonight; and then we shall look for a respectable place where you can stay until your brother arrives.”
I had a pleasant meal with your cousin and his wife and children, followed by a worried night; and now I am staying at Captain Grier’s house. He and his wife have a spare room, and live not far from the Wagonworks; and as Mrs. Grier told me, “I shall be quite glad to have someone else in the house, the Captain being gone for months at a time.”
As the Captain is still in town this feels more like a continuation of the journey rather than a new home, as used as I have grown to eating at the Captain’s table; but I find I like Mrs. Grier quite as much as I like her husband, and I feel that I have begun to get my feet under me again.
Cathy
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Photo by Ries Bosch on Unsplash
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