again.
‘She has the mind for it, to be sure.’ The face he turned to Ellyn was ruddy and supremely merry.
‘Kerseys for the Spanish Main, my dear, and a very handsome gain! Ha!’
Ellyn strove to give an impression of happy interest while trying to make more sense of his remark. A kersey was a locally woven cloth, so she presumed her father and Master Gilbert had pooled resources to make a shipment (and no doubt Master Gilbert had advanced the credit since her father was notoriously tight-fisted). She could understand the trade’s attraction: the kerseys would be smuggled to the Spanish Main in the Americas and sold free of duty, to the mutual advantage of both suppliers and buyers, at the expense of the King of Spain. Such schemes were the basis of almost every undertaking from which the Hawkins family had amassed a considerable fortune, and her father was always trying to emulate their success. Her conclusion was that Will and her father’s cloth might both soon be heading west across the ocean. She touched the pendant at her neck and tried to remain outwardly cheerful.
‘I suppose the lamb is representative of the wool to be shipped?’
Godfrey Gilbert gave a nod, and Ellyn’s fingers moved to the links supporting the tiny animal: two fine chains each ending in two larger rings.
‘And the bonds may suggest a blackamoor’s manacles,’ Gilbert added.
‘Ah!’ Ellyn made a greater effort to preserve her smile. Would slaves be involved in the next enterprise they planned? Certainly John Hawkins dealt in slaves; a bound Negro was prominent in his new coat of arms. Was there a connection? But of more concern to her was whether Will would be in jeopardy.
‘I pray the enterprise does not meet with any difficulties such as those that beset the last voyage of Master Hawkins.’
‘That sorry catastrophe!’ her father exclaimed, with a wave of his hand. ‘Have no such fear, my sweet. The Spaniards will not be concerned by a single ship. The
Swan
returned from the last venture without any trouble at all.’ He thumped the table with renewed jocularity. ‘So be in good cheer! Excepting the wildest storm, you may begin to think of the date to be fixed. And no doubt Master Gilbert will be thinking of matters more material!’ At this he emptied his glass and chortled, while Godfrey Gilbert smiled thinly and rose to take his leave.
Ellyn had no choice but to allow Master Gilbert to drool a kiss over the back of her hand – something that reminded her of the trail of a slug. As soon as he was gone she picked up a napkin and vigorously rubbed at the wet of his touch.
Her father slumped in his chair, loosened his ruff, produced a voluminous handkerchief and mopped at his brow. Ellyn settled beside him and quickly dismissed the steward when he showed his head at the door; she wanted a few moments with her father undisturbed.
Ellyn had not the patience for sweet-talking him at length and launched straight in with the subject that concerned her most.
‘I trust, Father, that if you were to receive an offer for my hand in marriage, then you would discuss the matter with me first before intimating I might accept.’
He appeared flustered. His face was so battered by the effects of smallpox and corpulence, marked with pits and lumps, burst veins and blotches, that by all objective standards he was ugly. But to Ellyn, his looks meant nothing; his response was what mattered. She kissed him and he smiled.
‘Of course, Lynling.’
He used the pet-name he had given her from the time when she played on his knee. Ellyn suspected she was about to be coaxed and felt a little happier.
‘But if an eminently worthy man were to make such a proposal—’ he gave her a hug ‘—and if, in turn,
I
might be inclined to pay an appropriate dowry to that man’s father, one able to offer
you
a good jointure, why then, would it not be reasonable to expect you to look favourably upon such a union, most especially if it was desired
‘She has the mind for it, to be sure.’ The face he turned to Ellyn was ruddy and supremely merry.
‘Kerseys for the Spanish Main, my dear, and a very handsome gain! Ha!’
Ellyn strove to give an impression of happy interest while trying to make more sense of his remark. A kersey was a locally woven cloth, so she presumed her father and Master Gilbert had pooled resources to make a shipment (and no doubt Master Gilbert had advanced the credit since her father was notoriously tight-fisted). She could understand the trade’s attraction: the kerseys would be smuggled to the Spanish Main in the Americas and sold free of duty, to the mutual advantage of both suppliers and buyers, at the expense of the King of Spain. Such schemes were the basis of almost every undertaking from which the Hawkins family had amassed a considerable fortune, and her father was always trying to emulate their success. Her conclusion was that Will and her father’s cloth might both soon be heading west across the ocean. She touched the pendant at her neck and tried to remain outwardly cheerful.
‘I suppose the lamb is representative of the wool to be shipped?’
Godfrey Gilbert gave a nod, and Ellyn’s fingers moved to the links supporting the tiny animal: two fine chains each ending in two larger rings.
‘And the bonds may suggest a blackamoor’s manacles,’ Gilbert added.
‘Ah!’ Ellyn made a greater effort to preserve her smile. Would slaves be involved in the next enterprise they planned? Certainly John Hawkins dealt in slaves; a bound Negro was prominent in his new coat of arms. Was there a connection? But of more concern to her was whether Will would be in jeopardy.
‘I pray the enterprise does not meet with any difficulties such as those that beset the last voyage of Master Hawkins.’
‘That sorry catastrophe!’ her father exclaimed, with a wave of his hand. ‘Have no such fear, my sweet. The Spaniards will not be concerned by a single ship. The
Swan
returned from the last venture without any trouble at all.’ He thumped the table with renewed jocularity. ‘So be in good cheer! Excepting the wildest storm, you may begin to think of the date to be fixed. And no doubt Master Gilbert will be thinking of matters more material!’ At this he emptied his glass and chortled, while Godfrey Gilbert smiled thinly and rose to take his leave.
Ellyn had no choice but to allow Master Gilbert to drool a kiss over the back of her hand – something that reminded her of the trail of a slug. As soon as he was gone she picked up a napkin and vigorously rubbed at the wet of his touch.
Her father slumped in his chair, loosened his ruff, produced a voluminous handkerchief and mopped at his brow. Ellyn settled beside him and quickly dismissed the steward when he showed his head at the door; she wanted a few moments with her father undisturbed.
Ellyn had not the patience for sweet-talking him at length and launched straight in with the subject that concerned her most.
‘I trust, Father, that if you were to receive an offer for my hand in marriage, then you would discuss the matter with me first before intimating I might accept.’
He appeared flustered. His face was so battered by the effects of smallpox and corpulence, marked with pits and lumps, burst veins and blotches, that by all objective standards he was ugly. But to Ellyn, his looks meant nothing; his response was what mattered. She kissed him and he smiled.
‘Of course, Lynling.’
He used the pet-name he had given her from the time when she played on his knee. Ellyn suspected she was about to be coaxed and felt a little happier.
‘But if an eminently worthy man were to make such a proposal—’ he gave her a hug ‘—and if, in turn,
I
might be inclined to pay an appropriate dowry to that man’s father, one able to offer
you
a good jointure, why then, would it not be reasonable to expect you to look favourably upon such a union, most especially if it was desired
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