Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter. Cathy’s First Letter.
17 November 1023, L’Isle du Grand-Blaireau
Amelia,
You have been laughing at me for weeks, I know you have. You must have known that my Mr. Napes is your—
But let me tell the story properly.
We were waiting on the porch of my brother’s new home and workshop, Jack and I and the others, when John arrived in Bois-de-Bas six days ago. When I first saw him he was sitting on the front bench of one of your cousin’s floating wagons, looking small beside the black-bearded driver. He had his head down, and he was scribbling furiously in a notebook on his knee. And if he looked small, even the driver was dwarfed by the irregularly shaped load, all swathed in black canvas, that rested in the wagon’s bed.
I could tell that John had no idea that he was at his destination, for he did not look up until the driver, having brought the wagon to a halt, said, “Well, sir, we’re here.”
“We’re here?” John wrote several more sentences, closed the pad, and looked up, focusing first on the slope below the house, now covered with long brown grass. “Here?” he said, puzzled, and swiveling his head, until, craning around the driver, he saw us all waiting. He looked down the row of faces, his own not brightening until he saw mine.
“Cathy!” he shouted. “There you are!” He dropped from the wagon and walked up to the porch. “But who are all these people?”
I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it when your cousin stepped forward.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Gamble,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Armand Tuppenny, Amelia’s cousin. Welcome to to your new home.”
“Ah, Mr. Tuppenny, it’s good to meet you at last,” said my brother. “I’ve a great many ideas I wish to discuss with you.” He tapped the notebook with one finger.
“Indeed! Now, let me introduce you to some folks you should know. Marc Frontenac, my good friend and business partner; we were on the Lombard together. Master Luc Touchard, one of our best formers. Mme. Ouvrard, your housekeeper—”
My brother responded to each introduction with a quick “John Gamble, at your service,” but his mind wasn’t on it; instead he kept looking at the house behind us and snatching quick glances at the load on the wagon behind him.
“—and finally, Jack Montjoy, Amelia’s brother and my cousin. You’re already acquainted with Miss Gamble, of course.”
John nodded at the last remark, still lost in his distraction. As for myself, I was thunderstruck—and you, I fear, are struck dumb with laughter. But I am a lady, and a Gamble, and I held my peace.
“Thank you, Mr. Tuppenny,” said my brother, with another glance at the wagon. “Cathy, could you—”
“Quite welcome,” said your cousin. “Now, let me show you around inside.”
“But—”
“Not to worry, Mr. Gamble, we’ll get your things inside momentarily. You’ll want to decide where everything is put, of course.” And indeed, at that moment I saw of troop of workmen coming down the dirt road from the wagonworks.
And so my brother allowed himself to be drawn inside. He tried to hand me the notebook, saying, “Cathy, could you—” but your cousin intercepted it and handed it to Master Touchard. The others followed them in, leaving Jack and I alone on the porch.
I rounded on him at once. The resemblance was obvious, now that I’d been made aware of the relationship.
“You! You’re Amelia’s brother?”
He beamed at me. “Now then, darlin’,” he said. “Thought you’d have figured it out by now.”
“How could I? Amelia never mentioned a brother!”
“What, never?” he said, clutching at his heart for a moment.
“No, never. And I never heard anyone call you anything but Jack! And you told me to call you—”
“Jack,” he said, beaming again. “Mr. Montjoy feels wrong after so many years in the army, and ‘Captain Montjoy'”—this said in solemn tones—”is too stuffy for words.”
“In my head I’ve been calling you Mr. Napes!”
“Jack Napes?” His eyes widened. “No, Jack o’Napes!” He began to laugh. “Jack o’Napes in all truth!” he said, bending over to rest his palms on his knees as he laughed louder and louder.
At last he stood up straight, wiping his eyes, and looked at me in mock sobriety.
“Miss Gamble,” he said, “you delightful woman, you have my permission to call me Mr. Napes whenever you should choose to do so.” And he offered me his hand.
I stifled my own laughter as I took it. “I shall certainly do so, Mr. Napes,” I said, and we shook on it.
“Now,” he said, “should you wish to spend some time with your brother?”
“We can go back to the Sloops, for all of me,” I said. “John will only want to talk about the ideas he had on the trip over, and beside he’ll try to get me to write out a fair copy of his notes.” I shuddered delicately. “Your…cousin…appears to have him well in hand.”
“That he does! He’s got his father’s skills and his own temperament, bless him. A winning combination.” He nodded. “We’ve been the best of companions since we were boys, you know.”
“So, even if you were able to return to Cumbria—” I began.
“—I’d stay here. Lovely country. I’ll return to Cumbria to visit my parents one day, and his Lordship; but with Amelia in Toulouse there’s really no one else there I need to see. Well, and Aunt Jane—Armand’s mum. But Armand was far more used to visit us in the country than I to visit the city.”
We climbed back into the caravan for the trip back to the island. He settled into his seat and I into the seat across the aisle, and we rose smoothly into the air.
“I wonder if Mr. Tuppenny is aware…” I said, and trailed off.
“Yes, darlin’?”
“I know my brother. I am morally certain that there is at least one more wagon-load in storage in Mont-Havre, and maybe two or three.”
“Furniture and the like?”
“Doubtful; there’s not a sentimental bone in his body, so I expect he sold all that with the house. No,” I said darkly, “Decades of abandoned projects. How he’ll find room for it all, I don’t know.”
Jack’s laugh rang out.
“I see,” he said, “I see indeed. But the only rooms you’ll need to find are on the island ahead of us. But, my word on it, it ain’t your problem, darlin’, nor mine.”
“No, Mr. Napes,” I said, with a surge of great contentment, “it ain’t.”
Cathy
____
Photo by Brunno Tozzo on Unsplash
Zymurgia House 