Noble Duty

14. Camille

After Charles had tasked his sons with assessing the repairs required, I guided him back to discussing ways to relieve the onerous taxation. He shrugged. "Immediately, nothing is required. To work around it, captains who are aware of the situation now choose to lay at anchor up the Hudson and East Rivers. Goods are transferred to and fro by lighter, allowing our trading to continue."

"Oh! Are there more wharves and warehouses up there?"

"No, the goods are loaded onto waggons and carried to and from those in the city. Initially, this was done under the cover of darkness, but most now do it openly."

I chuckled. "Oh! And the Crown gets nothing from it."

"Indeed. But it adds to our work and inconvenience, though the cost is less than it would be passing through Sir Cedric's greedy hands. If the tariffs were reduced to reasonable levels, both we and the Crown would gain more."

"Is Sir Cedric aware of the smuggling?"

"No, he is reclusive. Word from his household staff is that he is a gluttonous eater, and he descends into a drunken stupor every evening through dinner. We rarely see him before mid-morning. Besides, he is too simple-minded and self-interested to look beyond his little kingdom."

"What about other officials? The Governor?"

"The unspoken policy is to turn a blind eye to it, wanting trade to continue."

"A silent complicity." I nodded and smiled. "This provides us with an excellent approach to the Crown. It should be a simple matter to demonstrate that the misguided taxation not only reduces their revenue, but it also tempts honest people to consider smuggling."

"True. The smuggling was not so widespread when we voyaged to London to petition, so we did not mention it, fearing increased vigilance might curtail it. But it has now become the main means of trading, and it is far too extensive to police." Charles paused and nodded over my shoulder. "Ah, Camille arrives."

I turned to see a coach emerge from between two warehouses and draw onto the wharf. "So quickly here. It appears you live close by."

"We do. Our estate is less than half a mile northward along the strand. After repairs are accomplished, you can lay at anchor in front of it to do whatever trading we agree upon."

The coachman reined the horse to a stop alongside Atlantica, and before he could dismount to assist, the carriage door opened. A maid stepped down and turned to assist an older woman. As they ascended the accommodation ladder, Charles strode to the bulwark gate to meet and introduce them, "My wife, Camille and our oldest granddaughter, Camelia. This is Captain Overton."

I doffed my hat with a flourish and a bow. "A pleasure, my ladies."

Camille nodded. "The pleasure is ours, sir." Then, swivelling her head, she asked, "Where are they? We rushed here to greet the Baron and Baroness. Are all their children here, as well?"

Charles winced. "Hmmm. Seems the lad jumbled my message – or I was unclear with instructing him."

"Oh!" She studied her husband's face for a few moments. "I sense all is not well. What is it?"

He shook his head, grimacing. "William and Charlotte have passed on, as have all their children except Gillian, thus the need for your comforting."

"Oh, dear God!" She slapped a hand to her mouth. "Where is he? What can I do?"

I pointed aft. "Inside there. You knew her as Julian during her tomboy phase, but she has outgrown that, as you will see. Please, come meet her."

A short while later, as I opened the great cabin door, I called, "Gillian, your Aunt Camille is here."

Gillian rose from the long table and rushed across the room, arms spread in greeting. "I still remember your wonderful hugs. Am I too old for another?"

Camille spread her arms and smiled. "One can never be too old for hugging. Come."

I watched Gillian's shoulders quake as Camille enfolded her. Though her sobs were silent, I knew she was crying. What might I do? Likely best to only watch. Learn how age and experience handle this.

"Let it out. Let it all out." Camille stroked her back. "Let the tears flow. You're safe here."

Gillian's head bobbed, then after a quiet interval, she said, "The memories. The good times when I last saw you. All flooded back. Images of Father, of William, of Charles, of Elizabeth." She hiccoughed. "Gone now. All of them – gone."

"Good memories are treasures to cherish. Dwell on them. Allow the good to displace the bad."

"Ummm. Thought I had. But seeing you again ..." Gillian paused and lifted her head from Camille's shoulder. "Please forgive my outburst."

"There is no need to apologise. Grieving is not easy. There is no right or wrong way. Do it as you see appropriate, not as others might."

Gillian nodded and blew a deep breath, and after she pulled a handkerchief from her bosom and dabbed her eyes, she said, "You make it sound so simple."

"The theory, yes. But not the practice. We must each do it in our own way." She turned and beckoned. "This is Camelia, our oldest granddaughter."

"Such a beautiful young woman – I see she gets her looks from you."

Camille patted the graceful coils of her coif and chuckled. "She gets the red hair from me, as well, though with this now white, one would never guess."

When the women had greeted, Judith approached and asked, "Shall I send for tea, My Lady?"

"Oh, yes, please. But first, allow me to introduce. You had not yet joined the household when Uncle Charles and Aunt Camille visited us at Cavendish Castle." Gillian turned toward the couple and continued, "Judith is Mother's youngest sister, and she became my lady's companion when changes made it necessary to learn how to behave as a maiden."

Charles chuckled. "And what amazing changes. I still cherish memories of you as a bright and eager young lad."

"Aha!" Camille nodded. "Of course. This is why you are both familiar and not at the same time." She chuckled. "Dressed as a lad like I had had done when I met Charles."

Gillian tilted her head in question. "You had also dressed as a lad?"

Camille grinned and nodded. "Father had not returned from sea in over two years, and with Mother's passing, there was nothing left for me in England. Inspired by Father's seafaring tales, I sought a position as crew aboard a ship. None accepted women, so binding my bosom and dressing in breeches and shirt, I gained a position as cabin boy."

Charles chuckled. "And a very eager young lad she was. Just as I remember you, Gillian."

"Oh! She was your cabin boy?"

"She was – until she could no longer continue her ruse. Forty-two years ago now, and our love continues to grow."