by Jody Hedlund
He heaved a sigh as he turned to look upon Angelique. He’d seen her earlier in the day when he’d taken her to and from the fort for her lesson with Lavinia. He never tired of being near her.
She glanced at him with a shy smile that made him want to drop everything, grab her hand, and run off together.
“I see you’re shirking your duties at the inn again.” He greeted her with a smile.
“And I see you’re being lazy around here as usual.” She nodded at the enormous pile of split wood.
He was relieved to see she wasn’t embarrassed being around him since their kiss and was doing her best to pretend nothing had transpired between them.
But underneath their bantering, he could sense something from her, something more than the usual adoration. Every once in a while he caught her looking at him with an intensity that set his blood on fire. He saw the flush on her cheeks, the intake of her breath, and the desire flitting across her face.
She might have claimed she wanted Jean and that she was waiting to marry him, but a strange need crept into Pierre—the need to prove that she wanted him more than Jean. He could win her affection if he really wanted to. If he worked hard enough to woo her, she wouldn’t be able to resist him.
But what about Jean? Pierre had come back to the island to apologize to his family, including Jean. He wanted to repair the broken relationship and gain his brother’s forgiveness, not make him angrier.
And yet Angelique had the right to choose anyone she wanted. She wasn’t stuck with Jean. She didn’t have to marry him out of obligation. If she found someone she loved more, surely she wouldn’t feel bound to Jean.
“And how did you manage to sneak here this time?” he asked.
“Ebenezer went out, and Betty is already sleeping. She’s heavy with child and tires easily these days.”
“So in your rare moment of freedom you decided to come here and see me since I’m so irresistible?” he teased.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I came to see Miriam.” She tossed him a smile before turning toward Maman. They started to enter the cabin, and he wished he could prevent her from disappearing inside. He wanted to talk with her longer without the time constraints they always faced.
“I’m staying for the rest of the summer.” The words came out before he could stop them.
Both women froze, then slowly turned to face him with startled expressions.
“I might as well,” he said hesitantly, wondering if he should take back the words, if he really could last all summer. “I can help with the crops and do some hunting so that you’re well stocked before winter.”
“God be praised,” Maman said with a beaming smile. “That would be heavenly, Pierre.”
Angelique blinked and then studied his face, her beautiful brown eyes filled with wonder.
“Do you want me to stay for the summer, Angelique?” He needed to know that she wanted him to stay, that she welcomed him in her life.
“Is it what you really want?” she asked.
He searched for a truthful answer. She would expect nothing less. “You know I love my brigade and I’ll miss being with them. But I think the right thing—the thing God wants me to do—is to stay here and help.”
She nodded. “That’s very noble of you. I’m sure the decision wasn’t easy to make.”
“Knowing you’d be here made it a little easier.” He tried to make his words light, but a spark seemed to jump between them.
“I guess now we know who’s the irresistible one.” Her tone was playful too but had a breathy quality that gave away her reaction to his news.
She was glad he was staying for the summer.
A tiny crease formed between Maman’s eyebrows. She lifted her face toward him. Did she sense that his feelings toward Angelique had turned into something more than friendly affection?
He wanted to tell her that she had no reason to worry, that he wouldn’t do anything to hurt Angelique while he was on the island, that he valued Angelique too much to trifle with her like he had other women in the past. But how could he make such a promise? Not when one minute he was telling himself that he couldn’t get involved with any woman, but then the next minute thinking about how he could woo Angelique.
“Jean will be grateful for all Pierre’s help.” Maman grasped at Angelique’s hand. “Now he can return to find things just the way he left them.”
There was a gentle warning in Maman’s words, a reminder that Jean would want to return to find Angelique the way he left her—waiting and ready for marriage.
“Jean will be very happy, won’t he, Angel?”
Angelique lowered her head, but not before he caught a flash of guilt. She murmured her agreement and guided Miriam through the door to the dark interior of the cabin.
“Come in and join us, Pierre,” Maman called before disappearing inside.
He was surprised at the strength of his desire to follow Angelique and Maman inside. He’d love to make Angelique a meal—roasted duck from the bird he’d shot that afternoon. He’d baste it with a glaze made from fresh parsley and green onions. Then he’d add some of the carrots and turnips that had just started to take root.
She would swoon over the meal. He could guarantee it. And he’d find delight in watching her eat every bite.
The ax handle in his hand seemed to weigh as much as a load of stones. He wanted to let it drop and give in to his impulsiveness. Maybe he didn’t have enough time to roast her a duck, but he could make something for her. The light of pleasure would dance to life in her eyes, pleasure with his meal and pleasure with him.
An oil lantern flared inside the cabin, lighting up the interior. From where he stood, Pierre caught a glimpse of Papa’s paddle on the wall. The brightly painted red and blue pattern rose up to mock him, to remind him of the day Papa had hung it on the wall and made the declaration that he’d never use it again, that his days of fur trading were over.
It had been the spring after Papa’s last voyage. He’d paddled back to the island, walked away from his brigade on the beach, and the first thing he’d done when he walked in the house was nail the paddle to the wall. Then he’d taken Maman in his arms, kissed her long and hard, and told her he’d never leave her again.
Pierre swallowed a lump that arose at the memory.
Papa had declared he was a changed man, that he’d turned his life over to the Lord, and that he wanted to put his house in order—namely loving his wife and children the way God wanted him to. He claimed that once a man had a wife and family, he couldn’t abandon them for nine months of the year for his work.
And Pierre agreed. He’d vowed he would never do that to a wife. He wouldn’t marry a woman and leave her behind. And he certainly wouldn’t bring her along with him into the wilderness. Living out of a canoe was no kind of life for a wife and children.
Pierre stared hard at the paddle on the wall. The truth was, if he wanted to be with a woman he loved, he’d have to give up his fur-trading ways, like his father had.
Could he ever do that? Could he ever give up the wilderness and his traveling in order to have such a love?
Through the open door he saw Angelique assist Maman into a kitchen chair. She began unraveling the plait Maman wore at the back of her neck until her long hair hung free.
His chest expanded at the thought that Angelique had risked leaving the inn to help Maman with a bath and washing her hair.
Angelique MacKenzie was the sweetest, kindest woman he’d ever met.
If there was a woman who could make him want to give up everything he loved to settle down, she just might be the one.
Chapter
13
In the blackness of the hallway, Angelique crept up the ladder to her dormer room, praying the rungs wouldn’t squeak. She’d taken too long with Miriam’s care.
As she’d slipped into the inn, past the crowded dining room toward the back stairway, she’d held her breath, waiting for Ebenezer to step into the kitchen and stop her. But appa
rently he’d overstayed his time on the beach with the Indian women and wasn’t home to catch her sneaking in.
She fumbled in the dark to find the door latch, but stopped short when her fingers brushed against the metal hook dangling instead of locked snugly the way she’d left it that morning.
Her muscles tensed. Someone had gone into her room.
Though Ebenezer often clamored up and down the ladder into the attic for supplies, he always latched the door. Had one of the voyageurs snuck up into the dark corridor? Was someone waiting even as she climbed, ready to jump out on her as she made her way to her pallet?
She pushed at the trapdoor, then hesitated. She’d never had any trouble with a voyageur sneaking into the private quarters of the inn. Ebenezer insisted the men use the side stairway on the outside of the inn that led to the long bedroom above the dining area.
A sharp cry came from the direction of the room Betty shared with Ebenezer. Was the intruder attacking Betty? Angelique shuddered while slipping back down the ladder. She couldn’t let the poor girl suffer, not with the unborn child at risk too.
Angelique stumbled through the dark hallway, skimming her fingers along the wall until she brushed against the door handle. She paused and listened. The usual raucous laughter and loud voices of the men drinking and playing cards came from downstairs. The tobacco smoke from their pipes had filtered through the stickiness of the night and hung heavy in the air. Yet Betty’s room remained silent.
If only she had a weapon. Maybe she should return to the kitchen and find a knife. Or she could grab her ivory-handled comb in her room. The prongs were sharp.
She had started to spin toward the ladder when another of Betty’s cries stopped her. She didn’t have time to go for a weapon. Without another thought, she swung open the door and plunged into the darkened chamber. “Betty?” she called.
The slithering of sheets mingled with strangled panting.
Angelique squinted through the darkness at the bed. Betty lay alone, writhing and gripping her distended abdomen.
“I think it’s time to have the baby,” the girl moaned.
Angelique crossed the room to the edge of the bed. Her earlier fear was swept away by a new panic. “I’ll call for the midwife.”
Betty let out another sharp cry. “It . . . it might be too late for that.”
“What can I do?” Angelique knew almost nothing about birthing babies, and she dreaded what Ebenezer would do if she didn’t go find the midwife. His last wife had died in birthing. He certainly wouldn’t want Betty giving birth at Angelique’s inexperienced hands.
“I really should call for the midwife,” she said, her voice trembling as she searched the darkness for a lantern.
“If you’d been here earlier when I came looking for you, then you might have had time. Now it’s too late.”
So Betty had been the one to climb into the attic and had discovered her absence.
“I suppose you’re sneaking down to the beach to fornicate too,” Betty said bitterly.
“Never!” She’d noticed Betty’s growing sullenness over the past month. She’d seen the way Betty watched Ebenezer leave in the evenings, her young face tight with resentment. She could only imagine how difficult it was for the girl to learn about her husband’s unfaithfulness.
“Maybe you’re the one enticing my husband away from me.” Betty’s breath came in loud gasps. “I see the way he looks at you.”
“He does not look at me.” The very thought made Angelique shudder.
Betty gave a strangled cry. “I don’t know why he doesn’t get rid of you. You’re older than me. You should be married by now.”
“My betrothed was forced to leave the island and is now fighting in the war.” Angelique moved closer to the bed. “I’ll marry him when he comes back.”
“And what if he dies? What will you do then?”
Angelique couldn’t bear to think of that happening. She hadn’t let herself face such a horrible possibility and the bleak life she might have if Jean didn’t make it back. Even though men died in battle all the time, she knew Jean wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Betty’s tone rose with each breath. “Do you plan to stay here at the inn forever and tempt my husband?”
“I’m not tempting him.”
“If you weren’t here, then maybe he’d want to stay with me instead of having to leave all the time to avoid temptation.”
Angelique could only shake her head. The accusations were ridiculous and completely unfounded. How could Betty believe such a thing? Not when Angelique had tried hard to avoid being alluring like her mother and sister.
The young girl groaned and bent over, hugging her arms to her chest. In the dim light the window afforded, Angelique could see the sheets tangled in Betty’s legs and the dark stains from the blood she’d already lost.
Angelique smoothed her hand over the girl’s taut back.
“Don’t touch me,” Betty hissed as another contraction hit her.
“What can I do to help you?”
“You should have been here earlier to go for the midwife.”
“I’ll go now.” Angelique backed slowly toward the door.
Betty shook her head and began wailing.
Angelique stumbled over a discarded shoe and bumped against the edge of a chest. If only she hadn’t gone to see Miriam tonight. She’d known she was taking a risk by leaving the inn. But she’d taken risks all winter, and it had been several days since she’d visited Miriam.
As much as she wanted to deny she’d also gone to see Pierre, she knew she’d only be lying to herself. She’d always made excuses to see him or be with him, even as a girl. There was something reassuring about being near him, even if he was outside chopping wood while she cared for Miriam. His strong presence and the occasional glimpses of him comforted her.
And when he’d declared that he was going to stay for the rest of the summer, her chest had expanded with secret relief. She’d have at least two more months with him. Two whole months.
“Don’t think that I won’t tell my husband about your disobedience tonight,” Betty cried out.
Angelique didn’t try to defend herself. She was resigned to the fact that Ebenezer would punish her again, lock her in the attic without food, and make her repent of her sins. He’d do it even if it meant he had to get one of the Indian children living on the beach to do her duties. He paid the children with worthless trinkets, which cost him nothing.
“And this time,” Betty continued, “maybe he’ll finally decide to get rid of you.”
Angelique steadied herself and tried to drive away the growing worry over Betty’s accusations. Betty was only speaking irrationally out of her pain. She didn’t mean what she was saying. Once the birthing was over, surely she’d forget everything she said.
Besides, so long as Pierre was on the island, everything would be just fine. He would keep her safe. Even so, her heart clamored a warning, the warning that she needed to be more careful not to upset Betty or Ebenezer again. She couldn’t take any more chances.
Chapter
14
“What do you mean you won’t let her out of her room?” Pierre’s words boomed through the empty tavern. His voice contained all the frustration that had been building, until now his anguish was so intense he couldn’t think about anything else except freeing Angelique.
“She has one more day of discipline.” Ebenezer rubbed at the shiny bald spot on his head, which was beaded with sweat from the humidity that was plaguing the island and bringing with it the mosquitoes and flies in their ferocious hordes.
“Non. You’ve had her locked in her room for two days. That’s long enough.” He wanted to shout that Ebenezer was an idiot, but he forced himself to swallow his anger. He couldn’t jeopardize Angelique’s situation and make things worse for her.
Ebenezer’s eyes narrowed. “I told my stepdaughter she would get three days of discipline this time, and I intend to follow through.”
“Mis
s McDouall told me I wasn’t to return to the fort without Angelique today.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but Pierre was too frustrated to care.
“I’m sure she’ll understand after you explain that my stepdaughter’s disobedience nearly cost me the life of my newborn son.”
Pierre glanced into the kitchen to Ebenezer’s wife, who sat in front of the hearth with a swaddled baby in her arms. The woman averted her eyes, refusing to look anywhere but at her babe.
“From what I heard,” Pierre continued, “Angelique returned with the midwife in plenty of time.”
“She shouldn’t have been out gallivanting about the island in the first place.” Ebenezer’s voice rose with each word. He cleared his throat and added with forced calmness, “I won’t let any member of my household conduct herself like a loose woman.”
Gallivanting? Loose woman? Pierre almost snorted. Angelique was the last person anyone could accuse of gallivanting or behaving like a loose woman. She was the purest, most selfless person Pierre had ever met. But obviously she hadn’t shared the truth of her whereabouts with Ebenezer, namely that she was risking his punishment to help a poor, widowed blind woman.
Pierre had the feeling if he continued to argue with Ebenezer, he’d only walk away empty-handed as he had the previous afternoons when he’d come to escort Angelique up to the fort. Ebenezer was too controlling. Pierre had come across his type plenty of times in his fur trading. If Pierre applied any amount of force, Ebenezer would cling tighter.
Pierre took a deep breath and uncurled his fists. Red Fox would be proud of him if he could see him now. He wouldn’t solve the problem with his strength and punches. No, he’d play on Ebenezer’s weakness. At least for the moment.
He reached for the door handle and glanced with what he hoped was nonchalance over the untidy room and the Indian child sweeping the sticky floor. “Then good day to you and your mistress. I’ll report back to Miss McDouall your refusal of her request to allow Angelique to visit the fort for her lessons. Miss McDouall will be disappointed you’re not cooperating.”