For Gideon Jukes, life under the Protectorate truly began on the morning he woke in the arms of his lover, drugged with spent passion, as he smiled into her smiling eyes. They lay together in silence, braving the risk that the door would burst open and they would be discovered. They heard the sounds of young boys scrambling for breakfast, petulant shouts, thrown shoes, mild scolding from Catherine Keevil. Either Catherine knew what had happened and shielded the couple from disturbance, or in the scramble to get ready for school there was no time for the boys even to think of plaguing their mother. They clattered downstairs. Catherine took the boys to school; on her return she would open the shop and remain there.
The house grew quiet. Juliana and Gideon were alone.
With some trepidation Juliana surveyed the man she had taken to her bed. 'Well, that's done!' he quipped callously. 'Time to be up and off!'
For a split second he deceived her.
Juliana responded with a languid stretch, tucking her hair behind her ears. She fought back: 'Bolt then. Always so convenient for everyone… So, Captain Jukes, you are a loose seducer who lies with a woman once, then thinks his wager over, and moves on, never to be seen again? No, I do not believe it — you actor!'
Gideon exploded into giggles. He kept laughing, lost in a helpless joke of his own, while Juliana gazed at him in amazement.
When he settled, she asked, 'What was that about?'
'A dotterel.'
'A what?'
'Oh I shall tell you one day, sweetheart… Now I must take you in hand. Milady Formal, let us dispense with this Captain Jukes of yours. I shall have to compose a book of etiquette and print it for you. It will go thus: When a Lady hath lain the whole night with a Gentleman, making love together until they can no longer move, it is expected that the said Lady shall call the said Gentleman by his name!'
'Gideon.'
'Better.'
'Gideon…' Juliana rolled on her side — with a groan for he was right about movement being difficult. She kissed him on the forehead. 'Gideon…' She kissed him again, on the eyes, the nose, the chin, the lips, each time saying his name over. 'Gideon.'
'All this is good!'
'I believe I had called you so before.' She had indeed, while so desperate in passion that even the memory of it made her face colour up.
'Oh so you did!' chortled Gideon, lasciviously reminding her. Seriousness overcame him, however. His voice dropped into tenderness. So much had been left unspoken last night that delicate negotiation seemed required. 'Now shall I take myself off? Must I?' They were entwined like ancient ropes of bindweed and Gideon made no move to unravel himself. 'Then if I leave you, may I come again?'
'I hope you will.'
'When shall I come? When, dear heart?'
'Whenever you like,' Juliana answered, being completely honest. She had nothing to lose by it, she thought — and everything to gain. 'My house is yours,' she told Gideon then, more than ever full of gratitude to Mr Gadd that he had given her this gift, a house that was all hers, with no obligation to respect the feelings of anybody but herself. She could not have said it if this had ever been her family home with Lovell.
Gideon, too, had his moment of absolute truth: 'If you give me this freedom, I shall never leave. I love you and long for your company'
'Death and disaster wait around every corner,' Juliana said. 'Let us not waste any of our lives.'
Gideon gave her a slow but cheeky London grin. 'I could court you,' he offered.
'You have done that.'
'Yes, it seems I have.'
'If formalities are needed, I could seduce you!'
'That too,' answered Gideon dryly, 'would appear to be superfluous.'
So they began their lives together. Gideon returned to the print shop later that day — much later — and gravely informed Miles that the business of the embroidery book would necessitate additional work with the client.
'How long?' asked Miles, a perfectly professional query. He was a romantic, and had already sensed the crackle of interest between his master and Mistress Juliana Lovell, yet from what he knew of Gideon he did not suppose anything had been done about it. Gideon's cheerful reply made his jaw drop.
'About forty years, God willing.' Gideon paused. 'Fifty, if she wants an index!'
Juliana did not wonder how she would explain this to her children or to Catherine. Catherine already had a personal debt to Gideon; she viewed him kindly. Tom and Val had been brought up with the kind of strict French discipline Juliana had known herself from her grandmother. Although she expected stressful moments, a lone mother did not beg for forgiveness that she had found new comfort for herself and a provider for her family. As soon as she knew for sure that she had lost her husband, Juliana would be expected to remarry. She was still not thirty. Supplying a stepfather was her social duty. Placing herself in the protection of another man was her proper role.
Both boys resisted reconciling themselves, none the less. They were used to being kingpins in a fatherless home. They viewed Gideon Jukes as an interloper and were sullen for some time. But sooner than they wanted to, they found they took to him. He made no fuss. His steadiness and likeability wore them down. Tom and Val responded well to having a happy mother; they were reassured by their new feeling of security.
Gideon's arrival expanded their horizons; they learned about printing, always had paper to write and draw on, got to know Miles — who owned a dog they liked; puppies were given to them and though they saw it as a bribe, they let themselves be suborned. They acquired relatives too. Once a week the family walked to Bread Street to dine with Anne and Lambert. Now Tom and Val not only had an aunt and uncle but childless ones, who loved children and generously spoiled them. They were always excited at going to the grocery shop, with its rich odours and endless supply of edible treats. Lambert took them to see the Trained Bands exercise at the Artillery Ground. Lambert and Gideon together arranged male expeditions, fishing and shooting, or watching ships on the river.
To Gideon, the life they led now was what he had been fighting for. The regular pulse of work he enjoyed and a domestic life he loved hardly changed his character, yet settled him and rounded him. He came into contentment. He wished his parents could have seen him so happy. He wished Robert had known of it.
Juliana was slower to accept her good fortune. Life had taught her distrust. For some time she felt she was playing at house in a game, that this new wonder would be taken away from her. Yet gradually she relaxed. This existence became normal. To be sure that her man would return home every evening stopped feeling like a luxury and seemed like a right. To lie safe in his arms through the night, every night, became reliable and normal. She was allowed to see his weaknesses, to wrangle with him, to consult him, to care for his welfare. As well as Gideon's constant devotion to her, she had the delight of his physical lovemaking.
'I have ten years of extremely chaste life to make up — ' Gideon declared.
'All tonight?'
'After ten years, it needs practice.'
'No, you remember how! — Enjoying it is a sin, you know.'
'Then both of us will go to the Devil!' answered Gideon with a gleam of glee that seemed both unexpected and delightful in a radical Independent.
To her joy, they read all the time. Juliana had not shared her love of books with anyone since her father's wits began to leave him. She and Gideon had every access to the printed word. Their shelves filled up with books. Rarely an evening passed without Gideon sitting with stockinged feet on the fender, reading aloud a news-sheet while Juliana plied some needlework. Separately and together they read books too.
Juliana accepted just how full her contentment was now. Sometimes she paused in her sewing to watch Gideon rebuild the sunken fire. It was one of his charms that he would do this — unlike Orlando Lovell, who deemed it his place to sprawl at leisure and have women tend the hearth, however black the evening when they must go out of doors to the coalshed, however steep the stairs up which they had to carry hods or scuttles. Gideon, by contrast, not only noticed when the embers were low but routinely fetched new fuel, without being asked, and he would automatically wash the coaldust off his hands afterwards to avoid black fingermarks. He was unquestionably the
