Moonlit Desire

by Carolann Camillo

  “Time is up, Missus.” The guard’s voice cut short her rejoinder. Catherine turned her head and saw he had entered the cell.

  “Just another second, my good man,” Rive cajoled. Before the guard could interfere, he once again brought his lips close to Catherine’s ear and spoke in French.

  “There is a man in the lower town named Henri Zelle. Tell Louis to find him and see if his sloop is still seaworthy. If so, we will need it before dawn. Otherwise, he is to secure another vessel for us, one which can be easily manned. Now go, before the guard becomes suspicious.”

  The final moment had arrived. Perhaps this might be the last time she ever saw him. She clutched at his shoulders. He bent his head and his lips found hers in a passionate, but all too brief, kiss.

  “I love you so,” she whispered.

  He brought his cheek next to hers. “I shall give you more than ample time to prove it.”

  “Let’s get a move on.” The guard’s voice held an impatient note.

  “Au revoir, my love. I wish you bon chance.”

  “You are my good luck.” Rive mouthed the words and stepped back.

  Once outside the cell, she followed her escort back to the upper reaches of the fortification. With every step, she prayed that, in just a few short hours, she and Rive would be together.

  Chapter 35

  Baptiste brought Catherine to a house on the shore of the St. Lawrence River. There, in the lower town, so vulnerable to the British assaults, the damage appeared quite severe, even more so than in the heights. Constructed entirely of timber, the house had parted with a section of its roof. It had fallen, no doubt, victim to one of the many artillery blasts, which left the rear open from above to the elements. Still, she did not care about its lack of comfort. It was the place where she expected to rendezvous with Rive, and nothing else mattered.

  The thought, at first hopeful, turned bleak. What if he didn’t escape? Anything could go wrong. Her heart ached for him. Perhaps the plot had been uncovered, and while she waited in this dismal hut, preparations were being made for his execution. She clasped her hands against her breast and prayed the fates would not be so unkind. Yet, she must face the possibility.

  Baptiste suggested they do without a fire or even a lantern. For their purposes, the house must appear uninhabited. Catherine readily agreed, well aware of the danger.

  While Baptiste waited for her to become settled, he broached the subject of her failing to board the ship for France.

  “There was much commotion and the young Mademoiselle St. Clair stated firmly that she had seen you board. Otherwise, I would have searched for you. I beg your forgiveness that I did not.”

  Quickly, she absolved him of all responsibility and thanked him again for his further efforts on Rive’s behalf. Poor Marielle. She felt genuine sympathy for the girl. Unbeknownst to her, she had unwittingly brought about the very event she feared most—the loss of her cousin to another woman.

  After Baptiste left to bring Louis the information she had gathered, she huddled in the encroaching darkness wrapped in her cloak. A small hole in the front of the structure that had once held a window pane allowed her to peek outside. Seeing no one afoot, she assumed that many of the inhabitants had fled in the face of the British occupation.

  With nothing to fend them off, the late afternoon winds invaded the house, chilling her. There was neither food nor drink. She would welcome a tiny sip of the brandy Rive had forced her to drink in public on the day they arrived in Quebec City. They could do little except wait and pray for him and Louis and anyone else in their company.

  A small wooden chair, the lone piece of furniture, occupied one corner. The afternoon continued to wane, bringing on a gloomy dusk. At least the weather remained dry, although the clouds spread a sooty curtain over the town. Seating herself, she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. The utter quiet unsettled her, but she dozed off and on while the night gathered about her. Once, she awoke with a start and felt her heart race. She listened intently for some uncommon sound but could hear nothing, not even the desultory cry of a bird or skulking animal. Yet something had awakened her. She tiptoed back to the window. Peering into the black void, she wondered how Rive fared at that precise moment.

  * * * *

  The explosion came with a roar from the powder keg set afire. Rive slid the file from under his shirt and sprang to his cell door. He could hear nothing immediately outside it and had no way to judge if the guard had abandoned his post. No matter, he would go about his business in the quietest manner possible.

  Taking care, he inserted the file into the lock. After a few jiggles, he was rewarded with a click; the workings had disengaged. He expected the second blast at any moment; however, he did not intend to wait for it. Surprise was important now. With the next explosion, he would be halfway up the staircase.

  He grasped the door handle and yanked the portal inward, ready to overpower the guard if he remained at his post. A second later he was outside his cell. He saw no one. He took it as a hopeful sign, although he would have been happier if he had been able to confiscate his jailer’s red jacket. No matter, the possibility still might present itself. He was halfway up the dim stairway when another blast rocked the walls. Loose stones showered down on him. He raised his hands, fingers spread wide over his head in case a chunk of the ceiling gave way. It would be a hell of a disaster if he had come this far only to be knocked senseless.

  In seconds he was alone in the upper corridor, the front door of the redoubt directly ahead. Looking neither left nor right, he ran as if a whole company of marksmen were on his heels. Then he pushed out the door and made a dash for the woods.

  There Louis and a small complement of mounted men met him. Spotting the unmanned horse, he vaulted into the saddle. Less than a minute later they were completely secluded by the trees. No one spoke. Every man knew his job. The others rode off in different directions, away from the route Louis and he would take.

  The ground, still wet from the last rain, muffled the horse’s hooves. They cut through the woods and stayed away from the roads. When it seemed safer to go on foot, they abandoned the horses and slipped silently through the grounds of the nearby estates, using leafy shrubs and trees for cover. Shouts came from somewhere in the distance, possibly originating from the soldiers in the redoubt. They made all haste for the lower town and the house where Catherine waited.

  Catherine. His mind filled with the essence of her; her eyes that could widen in surprise or peer out from beneath thick lashes during the most passionate moments; her hair that fell in golden curls onto slender rose-hued shoulders; her body ...

  Abruptly, he forced such errant thoughts from his mind and returned his concentration to where it belonged. They were nearing the steep decline that led to the lower town. What he didn’t need was to fall and break his neck. In the pitch dark, it would be easy to lose his footing. No lights shown below; the river was a black silent beast moving through the night. With luck, they would soon be on a boat and away.

  * * * *

  Catherine almost jumped a foot when she heard rapping on the front door. She rushed to it, praying it was Rive. Why would he need to announce himself? Anxious, she stood with her ear to the wood. Who else besides Baptiste and Louis knew where to find her?

  Hardly breathing, she waited for a further development. Shortly, she heard a man ask, “Madame, are you there?”

  She didn’t recognize his voice, but then he had spoken softly. Still, she knew it wasn’t Rive.

  At the moment, she had few choices. Either she could remain quietly concealed behind the door, or chance the man on the other side was a friend and had been sent to assist them. She decided to trust to the latter.

  She opened the door and a powerfully built man dressed entirely in black, even to the toque that covered his head, stepped quickly inside.

  “I am Henri Zelle. Louis said you would need my boat tonight. It lies ready in the harbor. You are Madame St. Clair?
”

  Now she remembered the instructions Rive had given her. Louis was to find this man and arrange for his sloop. She identified herself as Rive’s wife.

  “Your boat is seaworthy, then?”

  “Aye, she managed to escape the destruction. Not that the British didn’t try to run her aground more than once when we slipped through the blockade with supplies. She runs swift. If we need to hoist the topsail, she can do close to ten knots. She has a shallow draft, and once we’re out of danger, we can sail near the coast.”

  Catherine wished she knew their destination, but at the moment it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Rive and Louis arrive soon.

  The wind had stiffened, intensifying the chill in the small room. Occasionally, the squawk of a shore bird cut into the silence. She stood near the window opening and listened for any sound that might herald the arrival of the men. Would they come on horseback or on foot? Or would they come at all?

  A slim border of light, so narrow it could have been drawn by a pen, began to peek over the horizon. Dawn would break shortly. She began to pace again, while Zelle waited near the door. The silence was nerve-wracking and almost as intrusive as a mad clanging of bells sounding an alarm. Catherine clasped her hands so tightly she could feel pain in every finger. Time passed and, with it, her hope.

  Just then, the door burst open. Rive and Louis spilled inside, so close to Catherine they almost ran her down. In seconds, she was in Rive’s arms. For just a moment, neither spoke, nor did the other men. Then Rive took charge, conversing in a hushed tone with Henri Zelle.

  “There is food aboard and blankets,” Zelle said. “And brandy to ward off the cold. We three will have no trouble sailing her.”

  “Then we had best be off,” Rive said.

  They left the house, Zelle leading the way to where the sloop lay at anchor in the harbor. When they reached a partially beached rowboat, he signaled for them to board. Once Catherine was seated, the three men launched the boat. The oarlocks had been padded so they might proceed in silence. With powerful strokes, the men cut through the shallow waters until the boat idled alongside the sloop. A rope ladder dangled down over her side, and Louis quickly climbed it.

  Rive clasped Catherine about the waist. “You’re next, my pet. I hope you’re not afraid of heights.” He unfastened her cloak and slipped it off her shoulders. Then he lifted her up as far as his arms could reach. Louis grasped her upper arms and brought her the rest of the way up and over the rail. Rive and Zelle quickly followed.

  After raising the anchor, Zelle indicated a small cabin amidships. Although Catherine appreciated his offer, she stated she wished to stay above with her husband. When Rive fastened her cloak about her shoulders and steered her to the cabin, she did not argue. She understood their haste.

  The cabin sported little headroom. There was a bench, however, and from her perch there she watched through the doorway as the men hoisted the sail. Shortly, she felt the boat move. Now they must leave the harbor and gain the river without being intercepted. She heard the wind lash the sail and the creaking of the timbers. She leaned back against the cabin wall and, some time later, dozed.

  She awoke to find Rive squatting in front of her.

  She put her hand on his arm. “Why do I always sense when you are close? It does not seem to matter if I am awake or asleep.”

  “That is an interesting observation.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Do you suppose it is something peculiar to lovers?”

  She sighed. “Lovers. I do so like that word.” There was a slight pause. “And all it implies.”

  “My luck grows by the minute. Remind me to thank all the gods.

  With the wind pulling at her hair and Rive’s strong arm around her, she felt hope for the future. Then she placed one of her hands over his and leaned against him, her heart filled with love.

  Chapter 36

  With the help of a favorable wind, the sloop fairly flew through the Gulf of St. Lawrence and into the Atlantic. As they neared the city of Boston, which Rive stated as their destination, Catherine rejoiced to see the sun shining its early autumn light around puffs of white cottony clouds. The air smelled fresh and clean.

  Rive had already explained the procedures they would follow, once they arrived in the city. Their first order of business was to secure lodging at a reputable inn. Then new wardrobes must be ordered. While they waited, he would make arrangements for their passage to London.

  As they entered the harbor, she gazed at the thicket of sails that rose up from scores of ships lying at anchor. She had to remind herself that she had arrived in the colonies less than four months earlier. It might as well have been a lifetime ago, for all that had happened in the interval. Nearing the dock, she caught a glimpse of warehouses and just beyond, commercial establishments.

  After the sloop was secured at one of the wharves and Catherine and the men had disembarked, she touched Louis on the shoulder to draw his attention.

  “Before it is too late, and we must part, I want to thank you for all you have done for me and Rive. I know we most likely will not meet again, but I wish you to know I will think of you often and with fondness.”

  He smiled and gave a slight bow. “I will think of you as well, Madame. As to our meeting again, there is always the possibility fate will find us together once more.”

  She could not imagine how that would be possible, for Louis’ future lay here on this continent, and hers and Rive’s on another. There was no time to question. The three men huddled for some moments; then Rive led her away from the dock and onto the street. They walked several blocks to an inn where they engaged a room. It looked not only commodious, but clean. That evening, they dined on a hearty stew at a nearby tavern.

  Once back at the inn, Rive held a candle aloft, and they climbed the stairs to their room. Earlier, he had ordered a bottle of the proprietor’s finest wine, which they found waiting for them.

  “To the future,” he said after pouring each a glass.

  Catherine touched the rim of her glass against his and offered her own toast. “To our future together.” She took a tiny sip of the deep hued burgundy.

  “May it be long and fruitful, and may nothing ever separate us again.”

  “Very long.” And more than likely fruitful. Unless she was greatly mistaken, she would be presenting her husband with an heir some months hence. This she decided to keep to herself until they were ensconced on the ship and en route to London. Then she would let him wait on her and coddle her and fetch her every kind of tasty morsel. But first ...

  “Rive, since we are speaking of the future, how, my adventurous husband, do you intend to occupy yourself in order to keep busy? By your own admission, you are not the type to be sequestered in an office paging through dusty account books.”

  “I have been meaning to broach the subject with you but find my mind occupied with matters closer at hand. With luck we will set sail in no more than a week. Once we reach London, I intend to participate in a happy reunion between you and your parents. If you wish, I will explain everything to them. In fact, the subject being as delicate as it is, I believe I should.”

  “Everything?”

  “Ah ... the more indelicate parts we may, perhaps, glide over.”

  “I should think so. And then ...”

  “Then, while we enjoy your parents’ company, I will send a dispatch to my Uncle Hubert in Paris to apprise him of my marriage. Also, I will instruct him that a certain percentage of my shares in the family enterprises be transferred into your father’s account so that he may draw an income from them forthwith.”

  Catherine’s eyes welled with tears. “You would take on such a burden?”

  “I hardly considerate it a burden. After all, have they not given me their daughter, whom I cherish?”

  They had been seated on two wooden chairs. Catherine set her glass aside on the table between them and went to Rive. Careful not to spill his wine, she settled in his lap.
/>
  “You are the best husband in so many ways that it will take me a lifetime to enumerate them all. For now, you have my gratitude and my love.”

  “I gladly accept both.” He kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “Now, husband, tell me. What does our future bring? Will it be in London or Paris?”

  “Hmm. What would you say if I told you neither?”

  “Neither?” She could barely contain her surprise.

  “You see, I have a plan—”

  “Oh, dear, perhaps I should take a sip of wine. Your plans have sorely tested me in the past, and I cannot imagine myself so fortunate to find that you would have undergone too much of a change in so short a time.”

  He laughed softly. “My wife is indeed a clairvoyant.” He proffered his glass and each sipped from it. “France cannot prevail against the British. Shortly, the war, in all its manifestations, will end. However, there are some eighty thousand French-speaking residents in New France who are entitled to representation in the new British government. I would like to help make that possible.”

  Catherine’s eyes widened in amazement. “You are planning on entering politics? I cannot believe it. On second thought, I can, for if anyone can convince the victors to share the spoils with the vanquished, it is you, my love.”

  He reached for her hand and held it tightly. “Then you do not object?”

  She smiled and gave the tiniest laugh. “If I have learned one thing in the course of the past months, it is the futility of objecting to whatever you set your mind to.” She brought his hand up to her cheek and looked at him. “In this, you will find no objection from me. Wherever you go and whatever you choose to do, I will follow you. For did I not promise to be a docile wife?”

  This time his laugh was loud enough to echo through the establishment.

  “Did you say docile?”

  She leaned back and nodded, although not with any great conviction. “I did indeed.”