“I’m not sure,” Isabelle admitted, “but I have extra stain if it lightens too quickly.”
The older woman nodded. “The color of your skin and hair won’t be the only problem. Guy will have to find a way to explain your lack of documents when we get to Ville-Marie, but for now, I have nine weeks to turn you into a housewife.” She shook her head and laughed. “Come. For your first lesson, you’ll learn to make a bed and clean the cabin.”
Before they could start, a timid knock came from the door. Instinctively, Isabelle turned away.
Aline stepped back from the bed shielding her.
“Come in.”
The door opened.
“Good morning, Madame Poirier,” Sophie said, holding a nightdress in her hands. “His lordship suggested you might be able to help me. If this isn’t a good time, I can come back.”
Isabelle turned around and looked at her cousin. Sophie’s face was blotchy from crying, her eyes dark circled from lack of sleep. Guilt threatened to choke her.
“No, now’s the right time. Good morning, Sophie,” she said.
Before Isabelle could say anything else, Sophie fainted. Guy came through the companionway in time to catch her before she hit her head on the floor. He picked her up, walked over to the bed, and gingerly laid the unconscious girl on top of the quilt.
“I see Sophie knows you’re here,” he said, sarcasm lacing his voice, as he went back and closed the door. “Isabelle, or should I say Isidore, when were you planning to tell her? I saw her anguish when the chevalier questioned her. Did you know he’d come for you? Did you deliberately put her through this? Can you imagine how she felt when she realized you were missing? What have you to say for yourself? I’d have thought better of you than this.”
His fury was palpable and evident on his flushed face, and his scar stood out an angry red.
Isabelle’s heart ached knowing she’d lost his respect. It had been necessary that Sophie not know of her plans. Even Murielle had understood that.
“Izzy,” she said. “Call me Izzy; Sophie always has. I couldn’t tell her. I was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep the secret.”
She looked down at her cousin and tears filled her eyes. It seemed all she’d done these past three months was cry. Was there no end to her well of tears? She sniffled and turned to Guy.
“I didn’t know he would come to Caen. He wasn’t supposed to. I was to leave for Paris on Sunday. And, despite what you may think of me, I couldn’t tell Sophie. If she’d known, she wouldn’t have been dejected about leaving. She could inadvertently have said something that might have been overheard.” Her anguish turned to rage. “Do you think I meant for her to suffer like this?” She fisted her hands. “The castle is full of spies, servants loyal to my step-mother, not to my father or to me. I couldn’t risk being discovered. If someone poisoned my father, they wouldn’t hesitate to betray me.”
Aline harrumphed and shook her head.
“I’d heard rumors the count’s death might not have been a natural one.”
She walked over to the porthole and opened it. Fresh sea air drifted into the cabin.
Isabelle reached out to Guy, grabbing his arm, imploring him to believe her.
“You have to understand I’d never intentionally place you, your mother, or Sophie in danger. My only other option would’ve been suicide.” She released him.
He frowned deeply at her words.
Aline crossed herself and handed her a lace handkerchief.
“Thank the Good Lord, it didn’t come to that,” she said, glaring at Guy. “No one blames you for your actions. No woman, not even one of royal blood, should have to marry unless she wants to.”
“It wasn’t just the marriage,” she stated softly, not sure how much of her reasons for flight to share. “The chevalier is a powerful man with influential friends. Murielle, the last of my father’s people in the château, is the only one who knows where I am. As soon as it’s safe, she’ll leave Caen. She’s been like a mother to me. I needed her help to escape. She’ll die before she betrays me. I pray God it won’t come to that.”
“Izzy,” Sophie called coming out of her swoon. “Where are you? Izzy, I hear you, but I can’t see you.” Tears filled her eyes. “Are you a ghost come to say goodbye?”
“Hush, Sophie; I’m quite real. Curb that wild imagination of yours and don’t upset yourself any more than you already have. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you my plans.” Isabelle moved over to the bed and sat down beside her. “See?” she said turning her cousin’s face toward hers. “It’s really me. I know I look different, but I’m not a ghost.”
Sophie sat up quickly, grabbed Isabelle, and stared intently into her eyes. Within seconds, she threw her arms around her neck and burst into tears. Isabelle held her close. She turned to Guy.
“You know, we’re not usually such watering pots.” She smiled slightly. “We’ve cried enough this past week to fill an ocean.”
Sophie’s weeping eased, and she pulled herself out of Isabelle’s arms, staring at her as if she had suddenly grown a new head.
“If it weren’t for your eyes and the sound of your voice, I would never have known you. I’m so glad you’re here.” She grinned. “God answered my prayers. All those hours spent on my knees and all of my tears have been worth it. You look so different. How did you manage all this?”
Isabelle painstakingly explained her plan and all the risks she’d taken.
“I hope you can forgive me for not telling you what I meant to do. I didn’t know he’d be coming back for me, you know that. It was the last thing I would’ve expected since Solange had his carriage. Murielle warned me my plan had a few holes in it, things I couldn’t control, but, as usual, I was too stubborn to listen. I needed to get away at all costs. Like you, I’ll have to get used to a new identity. Isabelle de Caen, like Isabelle Gaudier, no longer exists. Her disappearance must remain an unsolved mystery. I’m Izzy Leroux, a farmer’s daughter. I don’t know how long my skin will stay dark, or how long it’ll be before my hair’s red again. It may have to stay brown for the rest of my life.” She shuddered. “Believing what I do, I’m not convinced the chevalier will give up his search easily.”
“I agree,” Guy said. “Until he finds you or your body, he’ll keep hunting. He’s certain to send men to the colony looking for you, especially when he finds no trace of you anywhere in France. His pockets are deep, and his reach is long.”
“The only way he’ll stop looking is if I’m dead,” Isabelle stated.
“Not you, Izzy,” Sophie exclaimed. “You’re Isidore Leroux, remember?”
Isabelle laughed, feeling lighthearted for the first time in weeks.
“You’re right, and I’m on my way to New France and a new life.”
With Sophie installed at the table, relaxed and sipping a cup of the chocolate Guy had brought up from the galley for them, Isabelle believed everything would work out after all.
“Tell me something, Izzy,” Guy said, setting his cup aside, his voice still filled with skepticism. “If marriage wasn’t the only reason you left Caen, what was? You’ve gone to a lot of trouble for this. Disobeying the king’s edict is treason. Tell me it wasn’t just to get to the bottom of Pierre’s death because I did promise to do that for you.”
Isabelle hung her head. Where to begin?
“While I want to clear Pierre’s name, in the end, that didn’t really factor in my decision. Lives, real lives, did.”
She sipped her chocolate, gathering her thoughts. If Guy didn’t understand, he could still turn her over to the authorities in New France.
“As a woman of royal blood, I was the king’s to use as he saw fit, but I’m not convinced his majesty realized what he was doing. I’m sure the chevalier and my step-mother are in cahoots somehow. With my father’s death, she becomes a rich woman and gets to return to court as one of the queen’s ladies. The countess told me the marriage was the chevalier’s idea. He persuaded the king to give him m
y hand supposedly to separate my name from Pierre’s treason. That’s why Sophie became Pierre’s widow and got sent to New France, too. It’s not that the chevalier is besotted with me but because of my bloodline. He may lust after me, but what he really craves is the power I can give him. Allied through royal blood, my blood and the blood of our children, his family would become one of the most powerful in France, with the throne itself within reach. I believe he would happily make certain my claim or our children’s claim would advance more quickly than nature intended.”
“Of course,” Guy nodded, rubbing his forehead, his face grim.
“I should’ve realized you would have a valid reason. My apologies for questioning your actions. The chevalier’s always been a power-hungry, greedy old goat.”
Isabelle nodded, grateful he seemed inclined to hear her out now.
“In Solange’s words, everything is about power. D’Angrignon may be the Governor of Normandy, but it was marriage to me that would make him Count de Caen and d’Angrignon. Incidentally, Solange remains countess until a new one is in place. She won’t be happy about this either. She’s in Marseille on business for the chevalier, something my father should’ve handled.”
Guy whistled. “Your disappearance has snatched a precious prize from them both. When they can’t find you, they’ll be furious, and an enraged man, like an enraged animal, is dangerous. Is it possible to find another cousin to fill your shoes?”
Isabelle shook her head. “I do have female cousins, but they’re on Sophie’s side of the family, without royal blood. Since Sophie and I look alike, I suppose it’s possible another Navarre cousin could resemble us, but it wouldn’t do him any good. He couldn’t just say she was Isabelle de Caen.”
“Why not?”
“People know me,” she shrugged and frowned.
“Do they? The chevalier mentioned that you and Sophie could easily pass for one another dressed alike. It was why he tore her chemise.” His face reddened.
Isabelle grew cold at the memory of how Sophie’s appearance had been manipulated. Even people who’d known her reasonably well, like the duchess, had been fooled.
“How many members of the court would recognize you?”
“None,” she admitted. “Papa didn’t take me to court, and once I married Pierre...”
“And how many at Caen?”
“Very few, now. Other than a few short visits, I’ve lived away from the lodge since my marriage. Papa’s dead, Sophie’s here, most of the servants I knew are gone. Even Murielle will leave as soon as she can. Pierre’s mother and Anne know me, as does Cedric, but she’s in isolation at her sister’s, and Cedric would do and say whatever was to his own advantage.”
“So, it could be done,” Guy stated.
Isabelle shivered. “I suppose it could, but such a thing would far outweigh my crime.”
“Only if it could be proven.”
Guy reached for her hand, its warmth infusing her with courage.
“I wouldn’t put anything beyond him.”
Isabelle shivered. Neither would she.
Chapter Eleven
Isabelle sighed. Would he really pass off another woman as her? Other children as hers?
“My heart tells me you may be right, and it’s no worse than what I think he’s already done.” She chewed her lip. “I believe Pierre’s murder was a necessary part of this scheme. Too many aspects of it would’ve taken months to plan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Do you think the chevalier was involved in Pierre’s death? That he’s behind the charges of treason and conspiracy?” Guy asked, his face deathly calm.
“I don’t know what to think, which is another reason I need to get to New France and find the truth, but I do know that, without Pierre’s death, I wouldn’t have been available for marriage, and this conspiracy couldn’t exist.” She threw her hands in the air unable to hide her frustration. “I’ve spent hours going over everything that’s happened, everything I’ve been told, and, while I have no proof the chevalier was involved in the deaths, I can’t help thinking he must’ve been. The only link between Papa and my dead husband is me, and I need to know the truth about this so-called conspiracy Pierre was involved with. I don’t know what I’ll do with whatever I find since stepping foot in France again would be my death.”
“Enough of this.” Aline stood and handed the mended shift to Sophie. “We’re safely at sea. Nothing can be done until we reach New France, but we have another problem.” She smiled at the young girl. “I can understand why Izzy couldn’t share her secret with you. My dear, you wear your heart on your sleeve.”
“Tante Aline’s right,” Isabelle shook her head. “Right now, after all that’s happened,” she indicated the chemise with her head, “you look as if you’ve found the prize coin in the cake. You must remain sad and solemn a while longer.” She gave her a quick hug. “If you look in the bottom of your trunk, you’ll find some of my older dresses. Murielle packed them, so that I would have clothing if my escape was successful. Bring them with you later today—only the old ones, Sophie. I’m the poor relative now.”
“Why don’t you just come and stay with me?” Sophie asked.
“Because that would make no sense to anyone aboard, and after the recent search, it might raise doubts. If the chevalier sends someone to New France, he might question the people on the ship.” She shook her head. “No, for everyone’s sake, I’ll be staying in this cabin with Aline for the duration of the voyage. Guy’s arranged it with the captain. Aline has offered to teach me the skills I’ll need to survive in the colony. I’ll be expected to marry, and I should at least know some of the basic skills a man requires from his wife.”
Isabelle turned to Aline. “Perhaps all the ladies could join us for lessons. I know Sophie needs to learn to be self-sufficient, too.” She put her arm around her cousin’s shoulder and walked her to the cabin door. “Now, go and see to your brides. Some of them may be suffering seasickness already. The first few days afloat, even in calm seas, can be hard. Come back later, and we can go on the weather deck for some fresh air.”
Sophie nodded. “You’re right, as always. I’ll be back in a few hours with the extra things from the trunk. I’ll bring you the lighter colors since I’m supposed to be the one in mourning, but knowing Murielle, we’ll both be wearing black, brown, or gray.” Sophie kissed Isabelle on the cheek. “My tears will continue, but they’ll be tears of joy and thanksgiving.” She left the cabin, closing the door behind her.
Isabelle collapsed into a chair. She was tired. The emotional trial of the past few hours combined with those of yesterday had drained her. “We can’t speak of this again. We can’t take the chance someone could overhear—a soldier, a sailor, or one of the brides.” She looked imploringly at them.
Aline nodded. “Quite right. I like your idea of giving all the brides lessons, too. It will give them something to do and provide less time for speculation and gossip.”
“D’Angrignon was speaking with another passenger, a gunsmith, who booked passage only last night,” Guy added. “I’ll try to discover what it was they were discussing, but to be safe, we’ll have to be very careful. Nothing can be said, not even in confession. This is a sin that you can share and beg forgiveness for with God alone.” He moved across the cabin and looked out the porthole, and then turned back to her. “People must meet Isidore Leroux as soon as possible and discover a shy, young girl, eager to embrace her new life. Be especially careful around Monsieur Martin since he’s the only one of the crew who met you, although I think his eyes spent more time on your bosom than they did your face.”
Isabelle nodded, feeling her cheeks heat. Hadn’t she expected as much?
“That’s what I’d hoped. I wanted to be remembered.”
Guy chuckled. “You did make an impression.”
“Guy, I need to go and speak with the ship’s cook.” Aline moved to the door. “I want to teach the women how to make some of my simpler recipes. Iz
zy, you look exhausted. This has been as hard on you as it has on Sophie. Why not lie down for an hour or so? Guy and I’ll eat at the tables below deck with the women who haven’t succumbed to seasickness. I’ll have them send up a tray for you later.”
“Thank you. After yesterday and this morning, I feel almost too tired to stand.”
As soon as the door closed behind Guy and his mother, Isabelle walked over to the porthole. The breeze had picked up, and these were heavier waves than earlier. From this vantage point, there was nothing to see but water. She sighed. How long before she would feel safe again?
* * *
Guy closed the door to the cabin, hoping Isabelle would be able to sleep. It had been unfair of him to suspect her the way he had, but fear, anger, and jealousy did strange things to a man.
By thwarting the chevalier and to a lesser extent the countess, she’d made powerful enemies, the kind who wouldn’t give up easily. No matter which way Guy looked at it, he couldn’t see d’Angrignon giving up his path to power and possibly the throne. That meant, when he couldn’t find Isabelle, he would search for an imposter, and if he did that, no one must ever know the real Isabelle de Caen still lived.
The chevalier could beg the king’s indulgence on the wedding date, and once the pretender was in place, no one would know the bride wasn’t who she claimed to be. If he kept her isolated at Caen, it could work quite nicely, especially if the lady in question had fallen on hard times and was only too eager to cooperate. It was a bold move, but the chevalier wouldn’t be the first one to attempt such a coup.
What didn’t fit was Isabelle’s assertion that Pierre’s death was part of all this. The allegations of arming the natives and possibly putting the colony in danger didn’t seem to fit with that plan. What could d’Angrignon hope to gain there? There had to be more to it, and as Isabelle had said, those answers were in New France.
The Price of Honor (Canadiana Series Book 1) Page 13
