‘We meet at last,’ said J-F, knocking the hat off the man’s head familiarly. ‘How’s business?’
The man jumped to his feet, fists clenched, glaring at us in fury. He had a shock of white-blonde hair tied back in a scarlet ribbon and a dark blue silk jacket. Dressed like this, I guessed business wasn’t treating him so bad.
‘Who the hell are you?’ he growled.
J-F bowed. ‘Jean-Fran?ois Thiland, king of the thieves of the Palais Royal, at your service.’
The man rubbed his eyes. ‘Is this a joke?’
J-F looked offended. ‘What proof do you require, monsieur? You and I have dealt through intermediaries on numerous occasions. Do I need to remind you of that cargo of porcelain that I helped you shift last month? Or the Spanish wine that mysteriously fell in your path only twelve days ago?’
Our sea captain shook his head, half in disbelief. ‘It is you, you devil! Pleased to meet you. I’d heard you were young but . . . well, enough said.’ He seized J-F’s hand and pumped it up and down. ‘Take a seat – have some refreshment! Madeleine! Madeleine! Bring my guests some supper!’ Monsieur Bonaventure now turned to me. ‘And who is this young lady?’
J-F took a seat on the stool. ‘The package I mentioned in my message. She needs to return to her native land without the involvement of our beloved authorities.’
‘Mademoiselle, I am honoured to be of service.’ Bonaventure motioned me to a chair.
‘Thank you, monsieur.’
I watched from the shadows as J-F and Bonaventure discussed their mutual business interests over a bowl of soup, washed down with harsh red wine. The privateer drank deeply; J-F barely touched the stuff. I was glad, because I had rapidly decided that Bonaventure was totally unreliable. I noticed that his eyes slid to me from time to time as he tried to work out who I was and why J-F was going to the considerable bother of helping me escape France.
‘Mademoiselle, you are very quiet,’ Bonaventure said after a lull in the conversation.
‘I have nothing to say, monsieur.’
‘What?’ he chuckled. ‘I can’t believe that! You look a lively one – those green eyes of yours don’t miss a trick, I’ll wager. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching me all evening. I imagine there’s all sorts of thoughts swirling around in that pretty head of yours – few of them flattering to me.’
‘You may be right, monsieur.’
‘I know damn well I’m right.’ He leant closer to J-F. ‘She’s trouble this one, isn’t she? Too sharp for her own good. If you want to get rid of her, I know someone who’ll take her off your hands.’
J-F smiled enigmatically. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘No?’ He drained his wine. ‘So what’s to stop me handing her over and getting the reward myself?’ His tone was light, but it carried an edge of a threat.
‘Just the little matter of the information about your activities that I’ve left with a reliable contact in Paris,’ said J-F with matching levity. ‘If I don’t send word that all’s well, this person is instructed to cast unwelcome light on your – how can I put it? – less than legitimate business dealings.’
Bonaventure gave a false laugh. ‘That’s good. Just testing, just testing. Right then, now we understand each other, let’s get under way.’
J-F and Bonaventure drained their tankards and we set off for the port. The Medici was moored at the furthest point from the custom house, looking as inconspicuous as possible behind a smart sloop. In contrast to her neighbour, the ship was in a sorry state, paint peeling and the figure-head worn to an anonymous blank – nothing to catch the eye or make her stand out as worthy of closer inspection, just as Bonaventure wanted, no doubt.
The crew of the Medici lived up to my expectations. It looked as though Bonaventure had trawled the taverns in the most disreputable ports of the world and netted a crew of all nations. A one-eyed Chinaman showed me to my cabin, taking me past a silent African manning the wheel with surly ill-humour. Only J-F’s confidence persuaded me to place our fate in the hands of this captain.
‘How far are you coming with me?’ I asked J-F as the vessel slipped its moorings.
‘Until I see you safely home. Captain Bonaventure is a man of many talents but honesty is not one of them.’
I tried to ignore the feeling of nausea that gripped me as soon as we left the protection of the harbour.
‘I won’t forget what you’ve done for me, J-F.’
‘And nor shall I. Some day, you might be able to return me the favour. Now tell me more about this Billy Shepherd you mentioned: he sounds like someone I might be able to do business with.’
Our crossing was mercifully smooth. We headed west to confuse any pursuit before turning for England. Unlike the interminable first passage, it seemed no time at all before we saw the white cliffs of Dover glimmering rosy-white in the light of the rising sun. J-F stood beside me as we watched them grow closer.
‘Our captain wishes to put you ashore by rowing boat to avoid the . . . er . . . formalities of docking in the harbour. He says he knows a quiet cove not far from Dover.’
‘I bet he does.’
‘This is also as far as I go. I have a kingdom to rule and I know all too well the dangers of leaving it for too long – after all, that’s how I took over from the last king. Grandfather will be keeping an eye but still, there’s always someone wanting to fill my shoes.’
I knew I had a last chance to change my mind, to risk a new life in France, but my instinct was telling me that this was the parting of the ways – for now, at least.
‘Thanks, J-F, for everything.’ I kissed him French-style on the cheeks in farewell.
He bowed over my hand, English-style. ‘So you really are going back?’ He sounded genuinely regretful.