Page 20 of A Fierce Wind

Zoé spent the next morning with Tante Joanna and Freddie, visiting their friends in the town of Chichester. Spring in West Sussex, she decided, though not as warm as Guernsey, nevertheless brought with it a bevy of wildflowers dotting the green hillsides, which made for a lovely sight.

In the carriage, they talked of the family they were to call upon, the Barlows. Zack Barlow, a longtime friend of Zoé’s aunt, was the brother of The Harrow’s housekeeper, Nora.

TanteJoanna explained that the Barlows had five children, the three oldest, Danny, Nate and their sister Briney, were Polly’s by her first husband who had died. “After she married Zack, they had twin boys of their own.”

“The twins had just been born when I was last here,” said Freddie. With a smile for his sister, he added, “Zack seems to have settled down from those days when we engaged in free trade.”

Zoé had known Freddie and his sister once led a smuggling ring to help feed the poor in West Sussex, a story she had forced them to divulge when she caught the two of them laughing about some escapade. But it had taken her weeks to wheedle Freddie into telling more about the French tea and brandy they smuggled that had put food in the mouths of English children.

“That’s how your uncle came to meet my sister,” said Freddie. The details of that meeting were never supplied, though Zoé had first met Joanna in Saintonge where her uncle had brought her. The thought of them all being involved in some nefarious plot for the good of the poor gave Zoé a new respect for her aunt by marriage and her friend who called her “Pigeon”, a name she had come to accept but never quite liked.

Just outside of Chichester, they arrived at the Barlows’ whitewashed cottage with its well-kept thatched roof and pretty curtains in the windows. Surrounding the small home, interspersed between the oak trees, was a carpet of bluebells covering the floor of the ancient woodland.

Smoke rose from the chimney announcing the family to be home.

The carriage pulled to a stop and a blonde, blue-eyed woman came out the door. “M’lady! How good to see you. And you, Mr. West. Come in, come in.”

Freddie introduced Zoé as their cousin by marriage from France.

Polly was an accommodating woman, rosy-cheeked with a kind demeanor and, despite their countries being at war, Zoé was made to feel welcome. “I’ve just put the kettle on for tea,” she said as she beckoned them inside.

In the main room of the cottage, Zoé met Zack and four of the couple’s five children.

In his middle years, Zack was a big man with short brown hair and a scar on the left side of his face. He wasn’t handsome, but his wife and children seemed to adore him and his hazel eyes sparkled whenever he glanced toward Polly, who bustled about setting out cups for tea.

Nate was the oldest son still at home, sixteen years and a handsome lad. Both he and his sister, Briney, had their mother’s fair coloring, but the two twin boys who appeared to Zoé to be five or six, had their father’s brown hair.

They all took places around the long wooden table and Polly poured tea.

“What have ye done to yerself, Frederick?” asked Zack.

“Oh this?” said Freddie with a glance at his sling. “’Tis nothing but a scratch. I’m fine.”

“If ye say so,” said Zack. Then, turning to Zoé’s aunt, he said, “Since yer last visit, Jo, yer brother, his lordship, added a few rooms to the cottage to allow fer the twins’ coming. The extra space has been a boon.”

Zoé’s aunt took the gingerbread biscuits from the basket they had brought from The Harrows. “I’m glad he is good to his tenants, especially you and Polly,” she said. Still warm from the oven, the gingerbread, formed into the shape of plump little men, sent an aroma of ginger wafting through the air.

Freddie handed a gingerbread man to each of the dark-haired twins. Briney, who had taken one for herself, ushered the two boys out the front door to play.

“How old are the twins now?” asked Zoé’s aunt.

Polly grinned. “Six. Briney is a great help with them.”

“We named the boys George and Richard,” explained Zack, “fer the king and fer the earl who has done so much fer us.”

Through the open door, Zoé watched the two boys playing among the bluebells under the watchful eye of their half-sister. She wondered if she would ever have a child of her own. At twenty, it was not too soon for her to marry but the war had delayed much. She couldn’t imagine thinking of such things with the present situation in France. Beyond the peace of England, the world lay in turmoil. And there was the memory of Henri and her vow that drove her on.

“Thanks to the earl,” said Zack, “our oldest, Danny, has risen in the Royal Navy and is now a young lieutenant on the HMS Orion.”

Zoé glanced at Freddie and, not for the first time, wondered why he had not chosen that path. Perhaps he had no love for the military life.

“Young Nate here,” Zack said, nodding to his stepson, “helps me with the bit of farming we do.”

Nate smiled sheepishly. “I prefer to stay on land.”

Freddie said, “I’d wager you have become your father’s right hand.”

“Aye, he is,” said Zack giving his adopted son an approving look.