Scarborough Fair Read Online Free Page A

her special delight. Sycamores, poplars, ash, and beech arranged into copses to breathe life, but best of all she loved the oaks. Tall and broad and strong like a man in his prime, eager and reaching for the sky, but firmly rooted, something to cling to. But what brought joy also brought sorrow. With the passing of the seasons their branches grew a little wider, a little denser, adding to their beauty, while hers was flawed a little more each year. A wrinkle, a sag, a bulge. As she contemplated the ageing process, a butterfly tumbled and danced over the nearest flowerbed. Her eye picked out a dying flower among healthy companions. She looked away to her trees, knowing how the flower felt.
    â€œIt’s all so unfair!” Paul Jones spluttered.
    Therese’s reverie snapped and she glanced at him, still pacing as though on a quarterdeck sailing into battle. “ L’Epervier wasn’t pretty then?” she asked, amused, recalling their encounter when he had left her arms to fly to Le Havre .
    He grunted. “Pretty enough, but only a corvette. Sixteen guns, that’s all, and shot to pieces. They didn’t tell me that in the dispatch. I trailed a hundred miles to see a floating hulk that needs a six-month refit. I’m a captain not a lieutenant getting his first command. Do they expect me to rout the English navy with a crippled sixteen gunner?”
    â€œI thought you could do it in any vessel?”
    He humphed, not rising to her bait. “Not even I could accomplish it with that ship.”
    â€œWhat did you do, Cheri ?”
    Jones stopped pacing and turned to study her, his eyebrows raised. “Do? What do you suppose I did? I sent that midshipman back to the Commissioners with a letter politely but firmly declining the command. And then do you know what they had the gall to do?”
    How beautiful he looks, she thought, offering no comment.
    â€œOn my last cruise in Ranger , unescorted, I took six ships, one of them Drake , an English man-o’-war, and believe me it was no easy victory. The English fought well and hard. Then what could I do with a squadron? I could harry the English just like the foxes they so love to hunt. I could turn their attention from America to defending their own island. I went to M’sieur Sartine, your fine Minister of Marine. He sat there in his silk suit with a lace handkerchief held under his nose all the time we talked. Perhaps we Americans offend him in some way…”
    â€œBut no, Cheri , they say he has bad lungs. He coughs blood all the time,” Therese interrupted quietly. The comment did not divert his attention.
    â€œBe that as it may. Regardless, it is application to duty we are discussing. He invited my ideas so I outlined several that would benefit both America and France . I could break the English trade routes from the East Indies , Hudson Bay , or the Baltic.”
    â€œHe listened?” She twisted her parasol to attract his attention.
    Paul Jones nodded. “Oh yes, he listened. Long and well. I presented each plan in detail, showing how each could be accomplished.” He paused, lips pursed in disapproval. “As far as he was concerned there was only one problem. Each plan called for ships. Plans he agreed with, plans he enthused over, but he could not promise me ships. All I need is two or three frigates and supply vessels. Not a lot to ask when it could mean the breakdown of English trade and their loss of ocean supremacy.”
    As far as Therese was concerned, the issue reeked of politics, soldiers, and sailors naive enough to assume they only had to ask and they would be given tools for the job. True, that was how it should be, but in real life these things took time, the seemingly simple task of giving one tool requiring endless delicate maneuvers in closed chambers, promises given and favors conceded before bargains could be struck, always the politics. She knew they would eventually give him the ship he