Chapter 27: The commodore

It’s not the most comfortable night I’ve spent in my life, but it’s infinitely better than some stinking jail. Angelique and I are woken early the next morning by the sound of activity on deck. We dress quickly, realising that something out of the ordinary is happening. We peek out of the cabin to see men clustered on the rail facing the ocean. It takes me a minute to realise they are watching a small ship approach. I presume this new arrival is carrying the commodore, although it seems an awfully small ship to be transporting someone so important.

“Hah! Were you expecting the commodore to arrive on-board a hundred gun man-o-war?” laughs Richard Allen when he sees my puzzlement.

“I confess I was expecting something grander. That ship doesn’t look capable of overpowering pirates in anything bigger than a rowing boat.”

“Clearly you’ve not hunted pirates before. A fast ship like that can sneak into coves and estuaries that we can’t hope to reach before our quarry disappears. A hundred gun ship might be capable of turning any opposition into matchwood, but that’s no use if the pirates can turn tail and easily out-run you in any weather.”

“Still, it seems a very small ship for a naval commodore,” I persist.

“The title is honorary; simply a ploy to remove any obstacles in the chain of command. The problem with three nation naval co-operation is that every naval captain wants to be the leader. Commodore Beaufoy wasn’t acceptable to the Americans, so he agreed to relinquish the role. The politicians came up with this solution as a compromise.”

“So the commodore is just some politician’s stooge to handle diplomacy?” I query.

“No, although I don’t doubt there’s diplomacy needed as well. Would you believe me when I tell you that the commodore was once a pirate?”

“Hah! Most politicians and their kind are pirates in one form or another,” I laugh.

“Hmm. This one has some excellent credentials in courage and seamanship. I think you should meet.”

We wait the fifteen minutes it takes for the new ship to come alongside. The honorary nature of the commodore’s title is soon apparent by the absence of any formal honour guard, and the remarkably casual greeting afforded to the commodore. It takes a few moments to bring the commodore over to where Angelique and I are standing.

“Commodore, may I present Mademoiselle Andrea Thibert and her maid, Angelique,” says Richard.

I drop to a curtsy as I’ve been taught when greeting someone important. It’s only when I rise that I get a full look at the commodore. I’m struck dumb.

Firstly the commodore is a woman. Sure, she’s dressed in shirt and trousers like a man, and carries a cutlass and pistol as though she’s well aware which end is the dangerous part of each. Her hair is bound up under a naval hat, but her body is all curves that would make any forty year old woman jealous. However, the greatest surprise is to come.

“Andrea, Angelique, allow me to present our commodore, the Countess Jacqueline de Belleville.”

“Mama!?!” I weep, confusing everyone around me.

Fortunately we have plenty of time for explanations. I go through my whole sorry story and eventually I convince the others that I’m not completely mad. Richard was, of course, completely unaware of the full text of Edwards submission to the court which identified my birth-mother as Jacqueline de Belleville. Jacqueline herself had no idea that she had a daughter. As far as she was aware, the child she gave birth to all those years ago was a boy. However, she admits that she took Brigitte’s word for the child’s gender. Importantly, Jacqueline, confirms that she only gave birth to one child, and that Henri’s assertion that there must have been twins is wrong. If I can persuade Jacqueline to appear in court tomorrow, it might help my case.