Pierre walked over to Antoinette and Jeanne. “And where is William today?” he asked Antoinette. “Is he too good to come to Phillippe’s birthday party?”
“He is working,” Antoinette replied with a toss of her head. “And I do not appreciate you telling Pierre that his going west was your birthday present. You know it was all William’s idea.”
Pierre grinned. “So? What are you going to do about it?”
“You are disgusting.” She started to walk away.
Pierre grabbed her arm. “I hope you know the only reason I signed with William is because of Phillippe. He is the only one who would have hired such a small boy.”
“You know that William and I decided to hire Phillippe long ago,” Antoinette said, jerking her arm from his grasp. “We began to worry about Phillippe and hired you on the understanding that you will look after him. We are paying you well to help him when he needs it. And you took the job because you knew no other merchant would have you. You are a thief and the other men do not like working with you because of your temper.” She walked away before he could reply.
Pierre turned to Jeanne. She stared up at him.
“Where is Andrew?”
“He is helping William.”
“Has he indicated his intentions towards you?”
“No.”
“Well, I hope you will not follow in your cousin’s footsteps and marry an Englishman.”
“That is none of your business.”
“Yes it is. We do not need our family line watered down by the English. They only came here to make money off our labors. They did not settle this land. They have not lived here for over 150 years carving a life and a world in an inhospitable land.” Pierre slapped his chest. “We, the French did that, and now the English and Scots think they can come here and take over our businesses and lives.”
“William and Andrew are just as hard working as you are,” Jeanne said.
Pierre snorted. “William is sending Andrew with us in the spring as a clerk. He will never survive the trip.”
“If Phillippe can make it, so can Andrew.”
“Ah, but I will be looking after Phillippe,” Pierre grinned. “No one will be looking after Andrew.”
“Andrew can look after himself.” Jeanne walked away from her uncle. She hoped Pierre did not mean anything with what he had said. She knew he did not like the English and Scots, but she did not think he would do anything to hurt anyone.
* * *
“Marguerite would like to see you,” Bridget said to Phillippe.
Phillippe put down his plate of food down and hurried up to his cousin’s bedroom.
Marguerite lay against the pillows just as pale as when he had seen her last.
“I am sorry I could not come down and celebrate with you,” she said in a quiet voice.
Phillippe bent over and kissed her forehead. “It is best that you did not. It is very crowded and it would have tired you out.”
“You look so wonderful in your outfit.”
Phillippe twirled so she could see every part of it.
Marguerite reached under her covers and pulled out a package. “Happy Birthday,” she said, as she handed it to him.
Phillippe took it gently and opened it. It was a gold cross on a chain.
“I want to make sure you have a safe trip,” she said.
Phillippe slipped it over his head and tucked it down in his shirt. He knew he would miss his family while he was gone but it was Marguerite who would be on his mind most of all. In fact when he looked down at her right now he thought of not going. Who would look after her? For even before her illness he had been her protector and since her illness he had taken her for rides when he was visiting and she felt well enough, or had sat with her when she did not.
“I am going to miss you,” Phillippe said.
“I am going to miss you, too. But I am glad you are getting a chance to go.”
“I hope I can do it.”
“You can. You are stronger than you think and a lot of it is up here.” Marguerite tapped her head.
“I wish you were stronger.”
“I will be. After all, I am going to the convent of the Congregation de Notre Dame in Troyes, France, in two years. I have to get well for that.”
“Yes, you do. And you had better start right now by getting some rest. I will come back when the party is over and tell you all about it.”
Chapter Seven
After the party Jeanne walked Antoinette back to her home above the merchant house. She was on her way to the hospital. There was a child that the nuns thought might die that day and Jeanne did not want her dying alone in a crib.
As they walked their long skirts brushed the few mounds of snow still on the ground. They walked around the puddles that had formed by the melting snow.
“Phillippe’s birthday party was so wonderful,” Antoinette said. “It was nice of your parents to have it at their house.”
“It was a good idea to tell the family that you and William were going to hire him so we could give him his voyageur outfit.”
“He did look good in it,” Antoinette agreed.
“It was great to see the happy look on his face when Uncle Pierre made his announcement, was it not?” Jeanne said. “It is too bad that he does not know the truth about his hiring.”
“He will,” Antoinette said. “I am not letting Uncle Pierre take credit for what William did. Phillippe is going to know that the moment Uncle Pierre agreed to look after him was the moment Uncle Pierre was hired. And he had nothing to do with William signing Phillippe on.”
“I do not like that Phillippe idolizes Uncle Pierre so much.”
“Maybe that will change after I tell him the truth.”
“I wonder if he will believe you, especially if Uncle Pierre denies it.”
“That, I do not know.”
They reached the merchant house. “Come up to visit with Andrew for a few minutes,” Antoinette said. She climbed the stairs on the outside of the building, Jeanne following.
Antoinette opened the door and the two walked in. William was sitting at the table eating bread and cheese. She went over to give him a kiss.
“How was your sorting today?” she asked. She removed her muff and cloak and hung them on pegs by the door.
“Long. The extra goods I ordered from outfitters in Quebec came. Andrew and I spent all day opening boxes and setting items on the shelves or storing them away. We have many more days before we are finished.”
“I thought they came from England,” Jeanne said. She looked around the room but did not see Andrew.
“They do,” William said. “And we received everything Father sent last July. But there are some items he did not send that I feel we need.”
“You must be tired,” Antoinette said. Jeanne unbuttoned her coat but kept it on. She was not staying long.
“I am certainly glad that when I bought this piece of land and constructed this building that I made my home up here above the business. That way I do not have far to go home.”
Andrew walked into the room from his bedroom. It was only in this apartment that he did not wear his hat.
“Hello, Jeanne,” he said. “I thought I heard your voice.”
Jeanne’s heart leaped and she smiled at him. She had missed him at the party and was still angry at her Uncle Pierre for causing a rift in the family.
“Hello, Andrew.” She was suddenly shy.
“Are you staying?” Andrew asked.
“No. I am going to the hospital.”
“How was the party?” William asked. “Did Phillippe like his presents?”
“He certainly did,” Antoinette smiled at the memory. “He had a grin on his face all through lunch.”
“That is good. He came here before the party and asked to be hired on. It so took me by surprise that I had no answer. I finally I told him I had enough men already.”
“Yes,” Andrew said. “I never saw such a sad face in my life.”
“That is why he seemed so unhappy when he came back to our house,” Jeanne said.
“Did he get everything he needs?” William asked.
“Yes.” Antoinette nodded. “Including some soap from Ira for when he reaches Grande Portage and sees all the Indian maidens.”
“So it went well.” William sat back at the table. He wrapped up the bread and cheese.
“Not all of it.” Antoinette sat down across from him. “Uncle Pierre made it sound like he was the one who got Phillippe signed on with you.”
William laughed. “So what is new about that? Pierre is all talk.”
“But it is not fair that Phillippe thinks Uncle Pierre is the hero when you are the one who hired him,” Antoinette said, angrily. “Uncle Pierre was only brought on to look after him.”
William shrugged. “What can I do?” He hesitated. “The truth is I need Pierre. Last year was not as successful as we had hoped. Much of it had to do with the men we hired and our clerk. I need someone who knows where to go and what pelts to trade for. The success of our future business depends on the success of this summer.”
Jeanne understood what William was saying. Uncle Pierre and most of the French voyageurs were experienced mainly because they had been apprenticed to the fur trade at an early age. They were used to the trip into the wilderness every summer. They were skilled at paddling the birch bark canoe, they had a great endurance for the all-day paddle, and they could live off the land if necessary, shooting elk or deer when they found them or fishing in the rivers. Pierre, like many of his kind spoke more than one native language. Jeanne had heard that this impressed the Indians. William needed someone like that.
“I will admit Pierre has a confidence about him that I respect,” William said.
“I am going to tell Phillippe the truth about his hiring tomorrow,” Antoinette said.
“No, do not do that. It is better that he learns for himself what Pierre is really like. He will only resent you for telling him.”
“Yes, maybe you are right but it is still not proper.”
“It is too bad that you did not make the party, Andrew,” Jeanne said.
“We were busy,” he said quietly.
Jeanne was not sure if that was an excuse for both of them or if it was the truth. “You should not let Uncle Pierre stop you from coming to our place.”
Andrew blushed. “I know. But he always makes fun of me and my hat in front of everyone.”
“Ignore him,” Jeanne said. “He is just a mean person.”
“I guess we both are going to have to get over being scared off by Pierre.” William grinned at Andrew. “After all, he works for me and you are going to spend the whole summer with him.”
Andrew did not smile in return.
There was an awkward silence.
“I have to go to the hospital,” Jeanne said.
“I will walk you,” Andrew said. “Let me get my coat and hat.”
Jeanne willed her heart to slow down. It had been a while since she and Andrew actually had time alone. She wondered what they would talk about. Usually he recounted stories about his life in England. It all sounded so exciting and she sometimes wondered if he would take her back there if they married. Then she wondered if she would want to go. Maybe for a visit but to move there….
She smiled to herself now. She doubted that they would ever marry let alone move to England. But that did not change her feelings for him. All she could do was hope.
“I am truly sorry I did not come to the party,” Andrew said as they walked along the street. It was almost supper time but with arrival of spring the daylight hours were getting longer. “I really wanted to see you today.”
“You did?” Her heart leapt.
“Yes. We have not had much time together. I just did not want to have to listen to your uncle again.”
“He certainly can be obnoxious,” Jeanne agreed. She held her breath waiting for him to say more.
“But I should not have let that make me stay away from you.” He held out his elbow and Jeanne slipped her hand in his arm.
Her feeling of relief was so great she was sure it was written on her face. She turned away so he could not see. She did not want to let him know yet how she truly felt. If he did not want to stay, she did not want to try and influence him.
“Do you know when the brigade is leaving this spring?” Jeanne asked.
“No. And I am not looking forward to going to a strange, uninhabited place,” Andrew said.
“That is one thing about Uncle Pierre. He knows that land. You will be safe with him.” She did not tell him about her conversation with her uncle nor that she was afraid for him.
“Well, we know that Phillippe will be. I do not think he will care about me.”
“Are you taking your hat?” Maybe if he left it in Montreal and wore the cap of the voyageur, Uncle Pierre would be kinder to him.
“The hat was my father’s,” Andrew said. “When he died, I, as his only son, inherited it. It is a sign of prestige in England to have a felt hat handed down to you.”
Jeanne could hear the pride in his voice.
“It is the only thing I have as a reminder of him.”
They reached the hospital. Andrew opened the door for Jeanne.
“Come in and warm up,” Jeanne said.
Andrew shook his head. “I have to get back.” He kissed her cheek.
Jeanne almost floated through the doors of the building. Andrew had said he missed spending time with her and he had kissed her. Maybe, just maybe…
She smiled as she hung up her coat and climbed the stairs to the children’s ward. She sobered when she saw Sister Angelique and a priest coming out of the room.
“How is she?” Jeanne asked.
“Not much longer,” Sister Angelique said.
“Is her family coming?”
Sister Angelique shook her head.
“I will stay with her,” Jeanne said.
She went over to where the eleven-month-old child was laying. Her breathing was very shallow. The baby looked like she did not have the energy to take the next breath. Jeanne wrapped a blanket around her and picked her up. The little girl never stirred.
Crooning softly, Jeanne walked up and down the hallways. She hugged the child close wanting it to know that someone was with her. She wondered why her parents did not come to spend these last few hours with her. If this was her child she would have been at the hospital all day, every day.
It was just after supper when the baby took her last breath. Tears rolled down Jeanne’s cheeks as she lay the inert form back in her bed. In the morning her parents would come to get her or if not, then she would be buried in the cemetery behind the hospital with all the other abandoned children who had died in the hospital.
Jeanne went to the kitchen where Sister Angelique was having her meal.
“She has died,” Jeanne said wiping a tear from her cheek. “I left her in her bed.”
“How are you?”
“It was hard. She was so small and adorable.”
Sister Angelique nodded. “Would you like to stay and have something to eat?”
Jeanne shook her head. “Thank you, no. I should get home. We have company.”
Chapter Eight
Phillippe descended the stairs, an empty plate in his hand. He had just told Marguerite about the party and shared a piece of cake with her.
Pierre was standing by the front door.
“Do you want to have some fun tonight?” Pierre asked, his voice low.
Phillippe looked at him, not understanding.
“Get your coat on,” Pierre said. “I am taking you to the tavern for a beer.”
“Um, I am not sure if father would like that,” Phillippe stuttered. There was never any liquor in their house and the only time he saw his father drink was when they came into Montreal. He, himself, had only tasted beer once when he was thirteen and did not like it.
“Who cares what your father likes. You
are a man now and can make your own decisions.”
Phillippe was tempted to accept. He was a voyageur and from what he had seen and heard, being able to drink was part of the role.
“I will tell father.”
“And have him spoil the evening for you? Tell no one. This is between you and me. I want to see if I have a drinking partner on the paddle.”
Phillippe grinned. His uncle was treating him like an equal, like a real man. “I will be right back.” he said.
“I will be outside.”
He hoped he met no one as he hurried into the kitchen. His stomach churned with excitement. He had never snuck out to do anything like this before. Living on the farm there was no opportunity to get into Montreal for an evening at the tavern and when they came into visit he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Marguerite.
Phillippe paused when he saw his mother and aunt sitting at the table sorting through a pile of cloth pieces. They looked up and smiled at him.
“Marguerite is asleep,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. He was afraid something about his actions would give him away.
“Thank you for taking her something to eat,” Aunt Marie said. “She needs to keep up her strength.”
“She said she feels stronger. Tomorrow I hope to take her on a ride if it is warm enough.”
“She will like that.”
“Your father and Uncle Etienne are out in the stables,” Bridget said.
“Uh, maybe I will go for a walk.” Phillippe put the plate on the counter.
“A walk?” Bridget asked.
The wrong thing to say. He never went for a walk on his own when in Montreal. “Yes, uh, I want to go thank William.” Guilt assailed him. He felt his face redden. He had never lied to his mother before.
“That is nice,” Bridget said. “Tell him we missed him today.”
“Um, yes, I will.” Phillippe rushed out of the kitchen before he had to tell any more lies. He disliked that he had to sneak out. But he knew his mother would forbid him from going to the tavern with his uncle. She did not hide that she was not fond of Pierre or the fact that Phillippe worshipped him.
West to Grande Portage Page 5
