I love you, Sarah, he whispered to her, and he no longer looked like an Indian, but just a man to her, the man she loved, and there was nothing terrifying about him. He was all gentleness and kindness as he reached out slowly to her, and explored her body with the invisible magic of his fingers. And she lay in his arms moaning softly. And then at last, ever so gently he took her, and held her close to him, unable to control himself for long, he had wanted her so badly, almost ever since the day he met her, and he knew with total certainty that this was the life for which they had both been born, and as they lay together long into the night he felt as though his body and his soul had exploded in a shower of comets.
She lay silently in his arms afterward, lying close to liim, feeling his heart beat next to her, and she smiled as she looked up at him in sated pleasure. I never knew it could be anything like that, she whispered.
It can't, he said just as softly. It's a gift to us from the Gods of the Universe, it has never been like this for anyone before, he said, and smiled as he closed his eyes, pulling her even closer.
They slept in each other's arms that night, and when they woke in the morning, and she looked at him, she knew that they were one now, and always would be.
The next weeks were magical for them. He was free of his obligations to anyone, and he could stay with her for as long as they wanted. They walked to the waterfall each day, he taught her to walk with snowshoes on, he told her Indian legends she'd never heard before and they spent hours and hours in bed in each other's arms, making love and discovering each other. Neither of them had ever known a life like this one. And he told her that when the snows thawed, he wanted to take her to meet the Iroquois. As far as he was concerned, she was his wife now.
And two weeks after their life together had begun, he took her to the waterfall, and she noticed that he was looking very solemn. He was quiet as they walked, and she wondered what he was thinking of. Perhaps his son, she thought ' or Crying Sparrow, but he looked as though he was worried about something, or deeply troubled. And when they reached the waterfall, he told her what he had been thinking.
The waterfall was outwardly frozen by then, but still spectacular to look at, and the world around them was blanketed with snow as he held her hand in his own and spoke very softly.
We are married in our own eyes, little one ' and the eyes of God ' you can never have been married to that terrible man, in England ' there is no God in any heaven who would want you to spend a lifetime of such torture. And in the eyes of God, you are free now. You have earned your freedom.
I will not take you into bondage again, he said as he went on, still holding her hand, but I will take your heart, and give you mine, if you will have me. I will be your husband from this day, until my death. I will promise you my life, and all my honor, he said, bowing to her, and then he quietly took a small gold ring from his pocket. He had traded for it months before, in Canada, during the summer. And he had wanted to give it to her, but he was afraid to. And now he knew it was the right moment. If I could, Sarah, I would give you my title, and my land. I have no other heir, but all I can give you now is who I am, and what I have here. But all that I am and have is yours now, he said, slipping the ring on her finger. It fit her perfectly, and was a narrow band of gold studded with the tiniest of diamonds. It was truly a wedding band, and she only hoped as she looked at it that the woman who had worn it before had been happy. But she knew as she looked at Fran+oois that he was all he said he was, and that in her heart, from this day forth, he would be her husband.
I love you more than I can ever tell you, she whispered with tears glistening in her eyes, wishing that she had a ring to give him. But she had nothing, other than herself, her heart, her life, her trust, which was something she had given no one until Francois. And she trusted him completely.
They exchanged their vows at the waterfall, and then they walked slowly home, and made love again. And when she woke in his arms, she looked happily at the pretty ring on her finger.
You make me so happy, she said, rolling over playfully on him again, and he could never resist her. And later, as they sat in bed, drinking tea and eating corn bread, he asked her if she cared what people would think now, if anyone discovered they were living together. Not really, she admitted to him. I suppose if I did, I would never have left England. But he still thought they should be careful. There was no need to bring the disgust of the entire parish down on them. If eventually they were found out, they would live with it. But there was no need to flaunt what had happened. Although neither of them thought they would be good at keeping a secret.
They got their first opportunity to try at Christmas dinner at the garrison, when they arrived separately and pretended to be surprised to see each other. But both of them feigned far too much innocence, and glanced at each other far too often. Had the canny Mrs. Stockbridge been there, she would have seen through them immediately, but fortunately for them, she wasn't. And they got away with it, this time, but Sarah knew that people would not be fooled forever. Someone would see them, or talk, and inevitably her reputation would be tarnished. But as she said to Francois, in the end, it didn't really matter, as long as they had each other.
As it turned out, their life went on quite peacefully dirough the New Year, and then one afternoon, while she was trying to break through the ice, and get water at the well, a man in city clothes rode into the clearing. He had a Nonotuck guide with him, a very old man, and the white man looked chilled to the bone, as he looked intently at Sarah. And she didn't know why, but she sensed something ominous about him, and she casually looked around her for help, and remembered that Fran+oois had gone to one of the small forts on the river for fresh ammunition, and the boys had gone with him.
The man in city clothes rode straight up to her, and looked down at her with determination. Are you the Countess of Balfour? It was an odd question to ask her, and although there had been rumors about it for a long time, no one had ever dared to ask her quite this bluntly. At first she was inclined to deny it, and then decided it wasn't worth the trouble.
I am. And you, sir? Who are you?
My name is Walker Johnston. I'm an attorney, from Boston, he said, as he dismounted. He looked stiff and tired, but she had no desire to invite him inside until she knew what he wanted. And the old Indian guide with him seemed to have no interest in the matter. May we go inside?
What is your business, sir? She didn't know why, but her hands were shaking.
I have a letter for you, from your husband. For a moment, she thought he meant Fran+oois and that something had happened to him, and then she made the connection. Her voice shook as she asked the next question.
Is he in Boston?
Of course not. He's in England. I was hired by a firm in New York. They traced you to America quite some time ago. It took a little while to find you here though. He sounded as though he expected her to apologize to him for causing so much trouble.
What does he want from me? She suddenly wondered if this man and the old Indian were going to throw her over their horses and carry her back to Boston. But it seemed unlikely, knowing Edward. It was far more likely that the man had been hired to shoot her. But perhaps not, if he was a lawyer. She wondered. Perhaps he was only masquerading as an attorney. She was instinctively afraid of him, but she was equally determined not to be overcome by terror.
I am to read you his lordship's letter. The man persisted. May we go inside? he asked with a look of frozen determination, and she could see that he was freezing.
All right, she relented, and offered him a cup of hot tea, once he was in her kitchen and took his icy coat off. She gave the old Indian corn bread, but he was happy waiting outside. He was wearing warm pelts, and he wasn't bothered by the weather.
And with that, the attorney from Boston puffed up his feathers like an ugly little black bird and glared at her as he unfolded the letter from Edward. He was obviously prepared to read it to her, and she held out a hand with a look that would
have told anyone her rank and title.
May I read it myself, sir? she asked, holding out a hand, and when he gave it to her, she prayed the trembling of her hand would not betray her.
She recognized Edward's hand at once, and the venom of his words no longer surprised her. He was clearly furious that she had left, and called her every imaginable name he could think of, most of them relating to her being a whore, and dirt beneath his feet, and no loss to anyone in the county. He spoke of her dismal failure to provide him with an heir, and at the end of the first page, he said he disowned her. But on the second page, he reminded her that she would receive no funds from him at all, would never reclaim anything that might have been hers, or had been left to her by her father, and that she would inherit nothing from him after his death, none of which surprised her. He said he was redoing his will now. He even threatened to bring charges against her for stealing her mother's jewelry, or better yet treason for stealing from a peer of the realm. But as the British no longer ruled in Massachusetts, she knew that there was nothing he could do to her now, except berate her. But he could bring charges against her in England, and he warned her never to set foot in England.
And then he reminded her quite cruelly that wherever she went, whatever she did, she could not marry again, unless she wished to face charges of bigamy, and if she had children, if they lived, which seemed quite unlikely given her pathetic history, they would all be bastards. It was not a pleasant prospect, but one which she had considered long since. She knew full well that she could not marry again as long as Edward lived, and so did Fran+oois, and they seemed able to live with it, so Edward's threats were empty.
But it was on the third page of his letter that Edward surprised her. He spoke of Haversham then, and said that he was startled she did not take him with her. He called his brother a spineless worm, and then referred rather mysteriously to his idiotic widow and four grieving daughters, which made no sense to Sarah until she read further. Apparently, Haversham had been killed in what Edward described as a hunting accident six months before, when the two brothers went shooting. But knowing how Edward detested him, and would have gone nowhere with his brother except under extreme duress, it was quite obvious to Sarah what had happened. Out of sheer boredom, or rage, or simple greed, Edward had killed him. And her heart sank as she read it.
He then assured her in the last paragraph that one of his bastards would inherit not only his entire fortune, but the title. And he wished her damned in hell for an eternity of agony and sorrow. And signed himself, Edward, Earl of Balfour, as though she didn't know him. But she knew him only too well, and the horrors he was capable of. She still hated him, and now particularly for what he had done to his brother.
Tour employer is a murderer, sir, Sarah said quietly as she handed the letter back to the lawyer.
I've never met him, he snapped at her, annoyed to have been dragged all the way to Shelburne. And as soon as he'd put the letter away, he took out another. I need you to sign this, he said, brandishing it at her, and she couldn't imagine what he was giving her now, but when she took it from him, she saw that it was a letter she was to sign, agreeing to renounce anything she could try to get from Edward, his lands, his title, any possible inheritance, whatever its source. He wanted her to agree to give everything up, and she didn't care at all for any of it, so it didn't matter to her. It also said that she would renounce the title of Countess from that day forward, which somehow amused her, as though she had been using it all over Deerfield.
I see no problem with this, she said, and went to the desk in the next room as quickly as she could. She took out her quill, dipped it in the ink in the well on her desk, and signed it. And after dropping a few grains of sand on it, she walked swiftly back to the kitchen and handed it to Mr. Johnston. I believe that concludes our business, she said, standing expectantly, waiting for him to leave, just as she saw a flash of movement and color fly by the window. She wasn't sure what it was, but it looked ominous somehow, and she grabbed quickly for her musket, as the lawyer jumped in terror.
Now, there's no need to ' not my fault, you know ' you must have done something to make him so angry ' He was pale with fright and she silenced him with a single gesture and listened. But at the same moment, Fran+oois burst into the kitchen and they both jumped. He looked absolutely terrifying in his winter Indian garb, with a bobcat head at each shoulder, and the skins down either arm. He wore a fur hat, and a bib of beads and bones that he'd been given in Ohio. He hadn't been wearing all that when he left, and she suddenly realized that he had put some of it on to terrify the stranger. The old Indian outside must have told him something of Johnston's mission, if he even knew it. Or perhaps Fran+oois guessed it from what the Nonotuck told him. But in either case, he was playing the part to the hilt, and motioned Sarah against the wall as though he didn't know her. And the lawyer from Boston was shaking violently and holding his hands up.
Shoot him, he said to Sarah violently, and she looked paralyzed. She was terrified she'd laugh suddenly and give the whole game up.
I'm afraid to, she whispered.
Out! Fran+oois grunted at him, pointing at the door, as though he were taking him somewhere. Out! He pointed so fiercely the man would not have argued. And grabbing his coat, he fled the room and ran out to his waiting guide and horses, but the old Nonotuck was grinning. He knew full well who Francois was, they all did, and like most of his tribe, he had a good sense of humor, and thought it was very funny. He had told Francois that he thought the man was up to no good. He had hardly given the Nonotuck any time for food or rest on their travels.
Go! Francois pointed at the horses, as the lawyer scrambled into the saddle. And with that, Francois reached for his bow, and an arrow.
For God's sake, don't you have a musket, man? Johnston said to the Nonotuck, but the old guide just looked helpless as he swung back onto his horse, and Sarah could see that he was laughing.
Can't shoot. Indian Brother, the Nonotuck explained, as Francois got astride his own horse then, and made him dance as though he were going to chase them. But with that, the lawyer gave his rented hack a ferocious kick, and shot out of the clearing, with the old Nonotuck laughing uncontrollably as he rode behind him, with Fran+oois pretending to pursue them. It was a full five minutes before Francois came back to her, and he was grinning broadly, but she scolded him when he dismounted.
That was very foolish of you. What if he'd had a gun? He would have shot you!
I'd have killed him, Fran+oois said bluntly. His guide said he came to do something bad to you, but he didn't know exactly what. I hope he didn't have the chance. He looked concerned. I'm sorry I didn't get home sooner.
It's just as well you didn't, she said with a smile, still somewhat amused at his performance. It had been very convincing. The poor fool is going to report a war party on the loose in Shelburne.
Good. Then maybe he'll stay in Boston. What did he want?
To strip me of my title, she said with a broad grin. I'm a commoner again, or reduced to my tide before my marriage. It's only Lady Sarah now, you'll be sadly disappointed.
But Francois only frowned at her and said, One day you'll be my Countess. Who was he?
A lawyer hired by Edward. He came with a letter from Edward threatening me and warning me there would be no inheritance, which I'd never have gotten anyway, so it really doesn't matter. The only thing that did matter was that he had killed his brother. And she told Fran+oois all about it.
What a bastard! he said with feeling. I don't like his knowing where you are now.
He will never come here, she assured him. He only wanted to humiliate me, and deprive me of something he thought I'd care about, but I never have ' and I suppose, she said wistfully, he thought I'd be heartbroken about Haversham. I'm sad for him, and poor foolish Alice and her children. But somehow it doesn't surprise me. I always feared Edward would do that. I think Haversham sensed it.
You're lucky he didn't kill you, Fran+oois said with fee
ling, and then smiled more gently as he looked at the woman he called his wife. I'm lucky he didn't kill you. He took her in his arms then, and held her. He hated her having any contact with Edward, and was sorry he hadn't been there when the man arrived from Boston. But she didn't seem overly troubled by it, only by her brother-in-law's death. That saddened her, and she thought it unforgivable of Edward.
They spent the next month peacefully, with no incident, and in February, although there was still snow on the ground, he took her to visit the Iroquois, and she thought it a remarkable experience. They took a number of things to trade, and Francois took several gifts to Red Jacket, and Sarah enjoyed meeting the women. She could see easily how Fran+oois had loved living with them. They had an honor and integrity that made a huge impression on her. They loved to laugh, and they told stories endlessly, and they were fascinated by her. And she loved their culture with their legends and their wisdom.
One of the wisewomen of the tribe spoke to her quietly one night, holding her hand in her own' Francois had been smoking the pipe with the men, and when he returned he knew that this woman was the sister of the powwaw, and she was a spiritual woman herself, but Sarah hadn't been able to understand her. And she asked Francois to translate, but when he listened to what she said, he seemed deeply concerned, and looked oddly at Sarah.
What did she say? It looked terrifying, from Francois's expression.
She said you are very worried ' very afraid ' he said quiedy. Is that true? He wondered if she was afraid of Edward. But there was little he could do to her now. And they both knew that Sarah would never return to England. She says that you have come from far, and left many sorrows behind you. It was certainly true and gave Sarah a shiver as she listened. She was wearing a deerskin skirt and leggings that had been given her by the Iroquois, and she was warm and comfortable in the long house, which they used in winter. Are you truly worried, my love? he asked gently, and she smiled as she shook her head, but the woman was wiser than he knew, as Sarah watched her. They were sitting near the fire, with no one else near them, and there was no one to listen, as the woman continued.
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