Tessa wasn’t sure about that, but she drank it obediently.The ginger taste was quite strong.
“Now, just you lie down and try to get some sleep, and when you wake up, you’ll be fresh as a daisy.And if you do need to be sick, use this.”She pointed to a small bucket on a little hook beside the bed, then helped Tessa to remove some of her clothes and tucked her into the bunk.
#
TESSA WOKE TO A SENSEof warmth and well-being.Marcus lay in the bunk with her, sound asleep, his arm circling her, holding her against him.Water lapped gently against the side of the yacht, but otherwise there was very little movement.Had they arrived?
She carefully disengaged herself from Marcus’s embrace, sat up and looked out of the little porthole.It was fairly dark, but she couldn’t tell if it was night or very early morning.Through faint drifts of mist she could see several lights glimmering ashore and there were several other boats floating gently at anchor on the harbor.They’d arrived, but where, she wondered — Ostend or Calais?
She lay down again, snuggled up to Marcus who murmured something unintelligible, tightened his arm around her but otherwise didn’t stir.She closed her eyes again and, rocked by the rhythmic gentle rocking of the boat, drifted back to sleep.
She woke some time later.Marcus had gone and it was much lighter outside.She stretched, sat up and looked out of the porthole.The mist was gone and the harbor was dotted with boats of every size.The water was blue and gleaming and the sky was clear and very blue, with just a few fluffy little clouds.
“You slept well, I think.”Marcus said from the doorway, startling her.He was fully dressed and even shaved.He bent and kissed her, and she could taste his tooth powder.“I’ll leave you to make your ablutions.There is a jug of hot water there,” he said, indicating it.“We’ll disembark as soon as you’re ready and break our fast ashore.”
Tessa washed hurriedly but thoroughly, and was dressing just as Betsy arrived to assist her with the last few buttons and her hair.“Don’t worry about your things, miss.I’ll pack ‘em up and the men will bring ‘em later.The master is anxious to get ashore.”She winked.“Lookin’ for his breakfast, I reckon.”
Tessa made her way upstairs and found Marcus waiting at the rail.“Do you think you can climb down?”he said.
She looked down and saw a small rowboat bobbing gently at the bottom of a narrow ladder.Two men waited in it.
“I can get you lowered if you prefer,” he added.
“No, I, I’m sure I can manage,” she said, sounding more confident that she felt.
“I’ll go first then.”He disappeared over the side and stood in the small boat, legs braced and arms up, ready to receive her.She took a deep breath, did her best to wrap her skirts around her and climbed over the rail.
“I did it!”she exclaimed as she landed, and then grabbed onto Marcus as the little boat bobbed and wobbled.He laughed, sat her down and gave the order to move off.She gazed around her, enjoying the sights and sounds of the harbor, men calling out in accents she didn’t recognize, sea birds screeching and shrilling raucously as they dived for fish and fought over scraps.And the smell, not just salty and seaweedy, but ...ew.She wrinkled her nose.
In no time at all she was being handed ashore.She stood there, shaking out her skirts and looking around her.“Breakfast first,” Marcus said, “And then we’ll see about transport.Are you in a hurry to get to Waterloo or would you prefer to spend a day or so exploring the town?”
“Look around the town, please,” she said, pleased that again he had consulted her wishes first before making a decision.“I’ve never been outside England, remember?”
“Very well.There is an inn—quite respectable I’m told—and I wrote ahead to bespeak a suite there in case you preferred to stay a while.I also plan to hire a local fellow to organize our arrangements.We’ll take breakfast and then explore the town.”
“Have you been here before?”
“No, I never did the Grand Tour when I was of an age to do it, as Europe was too unsettled to be regarded as safe for foreign travelers.If I had, I probably would have gone straight to Paris first and skipped Belgium completely.However, the question never arose, as my father was failing and I could not leave.Now, shall we?”
She took his arm and they walked into the town.
Breakfast was delicious, with fresh, warm, crusty rolls and butter with ham or soft white cheese, or plum or cherry jam and boiled eggs.Marcus ate several rolls with ham and cheese, while Tessa spread her rolls with delicious cherry jam, washed down with hot creamy chocolate.Marcus drank coffee.
Tessa was intrigued to see that, though Marcus spoke to the innkeeper and servants in French, the servants conversed with each other in a language that sounded quite different.Not that she understood any of it: she’d never been taught French or any other language.
“Many people here speak Flemish in preference to French,” he explained.“Flemish is related to Dutch, I believe.”In a lowered voice he added wryly, “And whether they’re Flemish or French, few of them love the English.”
Then they explored the town.
#
THE FOLLOWING DAY THEYset off, heading eventually for Brussels and then Waterloo.Marcus had hired a local man, Tomas, to arrange things, and, since a light drizzle was forming, they set off in a hired carriage.
“We could also hire horses if you wished to ride,” Marcus said.“I can’t.promise you a side-saddle, though, as choices in such small towns will be limited.”
Tessa laughed.“I often used to ride astride as a girl, though Phillips used to scold me for it.And I would love to ride”—she glanced outside—“when the weather improves.”
The journey passed quickly with so much to see, villages of pristine white cottages with bright red roofs, little fields like patchwork, acres of what looked like cabbages and potatoes, apple and pear orchards and lush green fields with beautiful black and white cows grazing.
