He throws himself off and unto the ground and shouts, “Damn it.”
Annabella lies like a cornered prey at his side.
“Do you want to tie the knot on this relationship?” pants Philippe.
“I’d love to.”
“Now, you know I’m involved in government affairs.”
“Philippe, I’m a very educated lady, I can help you in ways you can’t imagine, I’m also fluent in Latin. You’ll never be ashamed of me. I’m a graduate of the prodigious Lady Fullerton School For Girls in London. I graduated with an honours degree in literature. Can I tell you something?”
“Yes, of course you can.”
“After we’re married, I assume we’ll live in Paris. Will you object if I open a school for young people?”
“Are you serious?”
“Oh, I’m very serious. In fact, I’ve already spoken to my parents about opening a school in London, but I guess that’s not going to happen now.”
Philippe lies back and howls with laughter, “Wait ‘till Maman and Papa hear this.”
“Will they object?”
“Of course not, you will bring honour to our household.”
“Come on, drink up, I’ve given you plenty to think about. You’ve got more than you bargained for,” laughs Annabella.
They drink their wine, snuggle up, and fall asleep.
Chapter Six.
Well, to make a long story short, Annabella and Philippe are married amid the fanfare of the aristocracy, Paris has never seen such hullabaloo. It seems half of Paris is there to see the young couple march out of church. Within weeks Annabella sets about to open her school. There is no scarcity of pupils. One of her first faculty members is Professor Emeritus Dr Hans Dusseldorf, a man of impeccable credentials whom she had befriended at Lady Fullerton school. Others are from England and France. Within four months, the school opens its doors to much fanfare, including a front-page write-up in the Paris Gazette. One of the speakers at the opening ceremony is the august Princess Josephine Luisa who sits on the board of Sorbonne University. Matilda and Annabella are frequent visitors to one another's homes and give their mother and father an excuse to cross the Channel.
Chapter Seven.
Our story now takes us to the mid-Atlantic where the powers-that-be in Paris have had reliable intelligence that a galleon will pass on its return voyage to Spain, laden with a large cache of gold. The pirates lie in wait. Within two days, a galley appears on the horizon.
“There she goes, Captain, and she’s on her own,” shouts a deckhand.
“This will be easy pickings,” grins the captain.
When they are several hundred feet away, one of the deckhands shouts, “Captain, look,” and points towards the horizon. There’s a flotilla heading their way.
“It’s a trap, get out of here for heaven’s sake,” cries the captain.
They turn tail and head towards the Americas. The captain thinks, "We’re doomed.' He knows this armada will chase them into hell, and wants them alive. Who’s behind this treachery? Obviously, someone with an ear to the Spanish court.
