Aline uncorked the small bottle and a strong scent of bitter almond permeated the room.”
“No. It’s poison, made from wild bitter almonds, a very strong concentration of it, too. Just a few drops could kill a man. I wonder who it was intended for? “
Guy reached for the vial. “I don’t know, but I have no intention of giving it to des Courts to find out. I’ll dispose of it. I need to talk to Nicolas. I’ll be back later.”
* * *
Just before three, Aline opened the connecting door at Guy’s knock. He was magnificent. Dressed in an ornate silver and black brocade frock coat, white silk shirt with lace cuffs and jabot, black tight-fitting knee-pants, white hose and black leather shoes with silver buckles, he stepped into the room. Isabelle stood near the bed, nervously awaiting his approval. She hoped he found her as appealing as she did him.
While she, like everyone aboard ship, had lost weight, the blue and green striped silk dress she’d chosen enhanced her height and figure. The sapphire cross, whose blue shade matched the stripe in the dress, hung around her neck and the gold earrings decorated her ears. Although her hair was still short by the standards of the day, it had been washed and shone a healthy dark chestnut with red highlights. Dressed in ringlets, it fell softly to one side and was held in place by the tortoiseshell comb Aline had given her. A lace cap covered the top of her head and more importantly the roots which were less obvious since the dye had begun to fade. With Isabelle de Caen safely buried, she planned to allow her hair to return to its natural color. She smiled shyly at Guy and twirled to show off her finery. The warm look on his face told her that he approved of her appearance.
“Izzy, you’ll outshine all the women. Maman, you look charming as always. Henri will be truly smitten.”
Isabelle laughed as Aline blushed.
“Go away with you,” she said. “No one will notice this old hen with all the new chicks about.”
“But an old rooster might prefer a hen.” He laughed. “The rest of our group awaits on deck. We’ll walk over to the church together.” He offered Isabelle his arm.
Guy escorted her onto the deck where Monsieur Giroux, some of the officers, Sophie, and the women waited.
“Mademoiselle Leroux, you look magnificent. That gown becomes you. Are those sapphires? Family heirlooms, perhaps,” the gunsmith asked.
Isabelle smiled, trying to hide her discomfort. Sophie liked him, but at times, like now, he seemed too intense.
“Alas, my finery is all borrowed today. These belonged to Sophie’s poor sister, Isabelle. They were in her trunk. Despite the pain they cause, she insisted I wear them.”
The man’s eyes grew large for a second, but then he smiled and turned to Sophie.
“You are most generous, my dear. Shall we?” He offered her his arm. “What other treasures did your sister have with her? It’s no wonder they searched our ship that morning.”
“If you’re implying she stole these,” Sophie said, her chin raised in defiance. “I can assure you they were indeed hers.”
“You misunderstood, my dear. I’m certain the chevalier’s accusations were unfounded. Such a shame she had to go to such lengths to get away from him.”
Mollified, Sophie took his arm and led the party off the ship. The young officers helped the brides walk without stumbling since they’d yet to get their land legs. It astounded Isabelle how quickly the men did, and she mentioned it to Guy.
“They’ve made the crossing several times before. It isn’t that they get their footing sooner; it’s simply that they know how to walk both at sea and on land. It’s a rolling motion I can’t quite adapt with my limp.”
The nuptial mass was a touching affair. Each of the “Ettes, dressed in gowns taken from the woman’s trunk, colors that didn’t suit Isabelle, carried a small bouquet of wild flowers, and all the grooms were resplendent in their uniforms.
Tears pricked her eyes. She was happy for the couples and hoped their marriages would be more fruitful than hers had been. Glancing at Guy sitting next to her, she sent out a fervent prayer that God might allow her to share the contents of her heart with him one day. The documents from the trunk cleared Pierre, and it wouldn’t be long before his honor could be restored. Was it wrong to want a measure of happiness for herself now?
Following the wedding mass, the couples and all of the guests followed the governor and his lady to their home. Expecting a mansion, Isabelle was surprised by the simple, one story log house, located near the reclaimed shoreline. The yard had been decorated with wild flowers, tables, and chairs for an outdoor feast on the sunny June day. Since all of the colonists were guests, Micmac women served the meal, while Denys and the other man filled glasses. The only ones missing were the new members of the garrison. Guy had explained the need for vigilance until they solved the mystery of the attacking ship.
As soon as the guest were seated, the governor stood.
“I would like to propose a toast to all the new members of this colony and the newlyweds in particular. May your life in Saint Pierre be all that it can be and may the Lord reward you with many children.”
Isabelle watched the blush rise on the cheeks of the “Ettes” and wondered if any of them had already started working on those new families. Heat flooded her at the thought of creating a child with Guy. She hadn’t conceived with Pierre, but she wanted children.
The first course, a fish soup unlike any she’d ever tasted, was delicious. The bowls had just been taken away when huge platters of food, some too heavy for one person to carry were set on the tables before them. A whole piglet had been roasted on an outdoor spit and was served with fresh fish, haunches of venison and moose, and a delicious fowl larger than any goose she’d ever seen. Accompanying the meats were dishes of wild greens, fresh bread, churned butter, and traditional French cassoulet as well as Micmac dishes which included the last of the tubers harvested last fall. Dessert was cake served with warm honey. To drink, the guests were offered wheat beer and wine as well as sweetened water.
Once everyone had eaten their fill, men with lutes, fiddle, flutes, and tambours provided music. Isabelle danced Bourée and Gigue with each person who asked. Aline danced several dances with Henri, while Sophie partnered Monsieur Giroux who seemed friendlier than ever. When the last dance of the evening was announced, a Gavotte, Guy came to claim her, and the dance he’d been promised. Despite his limp, he was an excellent dancer, and Isabelle thrilled every time his hand found hers. Finally, the music ended. The three couples thanked Guy for his generous gift, promising to name their first born after him in his honor. Darkness fell, and the guests prepared to escort the newlyweds to their homes amid much teasing and laughter. At the governor’s request, Guy stayed behind, and Isabelle offered to help clean up while she waited for him to escort her back to the ship.
* * *
Guy took a mouthful of the brandy Nicolas had poured and sat across from him.
“What is it, Nicolas?” he asked. “I saw your face when that trapper arrived earlier. It’s obvious he gave you bad news.”
Nicolas picked up a woven belt sitting on the table in front of him.
“Bad news may be an understatement, my friend. Have you ever seen one of these?” He handed it to Guy.
“Yes. It’s a wampum belt similar in design to that of the flag of the Iroquois Confederacy—the five united tribes including the Mohawk. Where does it come from? Who gave it to you?”
“Régimbald, one of the local trappers brought it back from a Micmac village on la Baie Française near Acadie. The tides are incredible there, well worth going to see, but I digress. As I told you yesterday, relations with the local tribes have been strained over the muskets and whiskey. This could pose a threat to Port Royal and the rest of this area, Canso included. If this is real, it points to an alliance between the Iroquois Confederacy and the other tribes south of here such as the Abenaki. We’ve lived at peace with the Micmac for several years; I don’t want to see that end. Such an allia
nce could have disastrous consequences for New France as well. You must take this information to de Courcelle as soon as possible. He can consult with his Mohawk allies and verify the authenticity of the belt. If it’s real, without soldiers to protect us, we can’t hope to hold the colonies in a full-scale war. It will be a slaughter. If it isn’t real, then someone is trying to start a war and the results would be the same.”
Guy huffed out a breath. He hadn’t brought his mother and Isabelle here to see them perish in a savage war with the indigenous people. While the Mohawk usually didn’t kill women and children, their allies might be a different story. He knew very little about the tribes farther south. The sooner de Courcelle discovered the truth, the better. He set down his empty glass.
“Agreed. I’ll speak to Captain Étier. We’ll cut our visit here short and try to leave as soon as we can. Most of the new provisions are aboard. High tide is around noon.” He folded the belt, slipped it into his coat pocket, and rose.
Together he and Nicolas returned to the sitting room where Isabelle and Marguerite were having a lively discussion. Guy watched her animated face.
“She’s the one, isn’t she?” He chuckled. “I have eyes, mon vieux. Don’t wait too long to stake your claim. Once you land in Quebec, she’ll have more admirers than you can fight off. She’s a rare jewel.” Nicolas raised his brandy to his lips.
Guy smiled. “Marrying her is my heart’s desire, but she sees me only as a friend. I’ve known her family for years.” The ruse Isabelle was his mother’s godchild had to be continued. “Since she was alone in the world, Maman offered to take her with us. At the moment, she has my friendship and protection. I wish it could be more.”
“Friendship isn’t a bad basis on which to build a marriage, old friend, but I think you mean more to the lady than you know. She lights up when she looks at you.”
Guy cocked his head to the side. Perhaps his friend had had too much brandy tonight. He had to be seeing things.
“I hate to interrupt your conversation, Izzy, but we have to leave now,” Guy said, going to stand beside her. “It’s late, and Captain Étier likes to pull up the gangplank at nightfall for the passengers’ safety. I need to speak with him as soon as we board. I’m afraid we have to cut short our stay here.” He turned to his hosts and bowed. “Nicolas, Marguerite, thank you for everything. If you come to Ville-Marie next summer, you must visit my estate. The house will be ready before the snow falls, but even I know how difficult winter visits are. Once the river freezes...” He shrugged. “You’ll see to it that the necessary letters are sent to France?”
“I will. Have a safe voyage, Guy. I look forward to hearing from the governor-general in the near future.”
“I’ll see to it he makes contacting you a priority. Once we know what’s going on, we’ll be better prepared for the right course of action. Goodnight.”
He held out his arm to Isabelle.
“Shall we?”
Isabelle smiled.
“Goodnight and thank you.”
She took his arm and together they stepped out into the warm summer night
Nicolas’s words came back to him. Maybe he’d run out of time. Once they reached Quebec, it might be too late to claim his ladylove.
Chapter Seventeen
Isabelle placed her arm through Guy’s and enjoyed the sensation of his fingers covering her hand on his arm. They walked down the laneway leading from the governor’s home to the harbor. She stopped and stared in awe as the moon, a giant orange ball slowly filling the horizon, rose majestically out of the ocean. While she’d seen a full moon before, never had it looked so close. On the ship, the nights it would’ve been full had been cloudy. Tonight, the sky was awash with stars, diamonds piercing the deep blue velvet of the heavens, giving the night a magical quality. The sounds of crickets and small animals scurrying about filled the air. Isabelle sighed. It was so beautiful and peaceful here.
“You can see the face so clearly here. No wonder your natives believe it’s a living entity. What did you call the moon?”
“Sky Woman. To the Mohawk, she is Grandmother Moon. The mother of the Earth as we know it and her grandchildren are the twins day and night.”
“It’s a lovely story. So much more imaginative than the story in the Bible and yet similar. I wonder they didn’t call it Grandfather Moon.”
Guy laughed. “The Mohawk are matrilineal people, so their clan or family comes from their mother, the one who gives birth. In their culture, you’re born into a specific clan and that can never change. When a man marries, he has to move to his bride’s village. Everything he has, including their children, are hers. Clans are named after animals, but members of one clan can’t marry others of the same clan. For example, a wolf clan man can’t marry a wolf clan woman. In their eyes, they’re brother and sister. It’s complicated.”
“It certainly sounds that way. Regardless, there’s magic in the air tonight. The newlyweds are thrilled with one another, and I can’t imagine a more wonderful place to start a new life.”
“Wait until you see Ville-Marie. We don’t have an ocean, but we have the St. Lawrence River and a mountain. There are trees everywhere. It’s a glorious place in the fall when the leaves turn orange, gold, and the deepest red you can imagine. The settlement’s barely twenty-five years old, but it’s growing each day. I hope you’ll love your new home as much as I do.”
They strolled toward the ship at a leisurely pace. Isabelle’s legs had almost adjusted to walking on land again, but her strange rolling gait was unlike her usual step. They didn’t speak, each lost in their own thoughts, and walked arm in arm in comfortable silence.
Isabelle savored this time alone with Guy. Since the night he’d kissed her, despite their apologies, the air had been tense between them. She’d avoided being alone with him, and tonight’s closeness reminded her how much she’d missed his presence in her life.
Glancing up at his handsome face silvered by the moonlight, she saw the concern he tried to hide. Something was wrong. What had the governor said to preoccupy him this way? Why would they be leaving sooner than expected?
Before she could ask, Guy veered away from their destination and led her over to a bench someone had set out under a tree near the docks.
“Izzy, there’s something I need to discuss with you, and although I’d planned to do this later, I was reminded tonight our time aboard ship is coming to an end. Once we land, everything will change.” He paced in front of her, a look of deliberation marring his face. “The rules for land ownership in New France stipulate that, for a man to own land or purchase more, he must marry. That means when I return to Ville-Marie, I’ve got less than a year to find a wife if I want to keep my estate.”
Isabelle’s heart stopped beating, and her breath caught in her throat. Guy kept talking oblivious to the fact he’d shaken her world to its core. Had he chosen someone before leaving for France?
“I’d always considered my marriage would be an obligation, a duty to the king in exchange for his generosity. For the colony to prosper, there must be children, and I’d like to see mine enjoy the good life available here rather than live as servants and slaves to the wealthy nobles of France.” He cleared his throat.
Here it comes. Oh, God give me the strength to hear this without collapsing in my grief.
“We grew up together, lost someone we both loved, and have become friends. I’d like to offer you a proposition, one I hope would suit us both. I don’t expect to take Pierre’s place in your heart, and I realize you can’t contemplate marriage until we’ve cleared his name, but when the time comes, will you consider becoming my wife? This way, we’ll unite our lands—even if Sophie holds the title, we’ll come to an arrangement that’s advantageous to all. Nicolas reminded me tonight friendship is an excellent basis for marriage. Pierre often told me you wanted children—a houseful of children. You know you have to marry within a year—it’s the law and returning to France isn’t an option. You said you’d pref
er not to marry a stranger, so marry me. I don’t expect your answer now, but I’d like you to consider my offer. I think we could be happy together. Will you think about it?”
Isabelle stared at him in the darkness, grateful she was seated. The breath she’d been holding whooshed out and tears pooled in her eyes. Her heart had resumed its steady beat as her world crashed around her. This was everything she wanted and yet nothing like it. He offered her marriage, but a marriage akin to a business arrangement, not one of love. He’d give her his body because children were essential, but not his heart. Could she accept such a situation?
If the king had ordered her to marry anyone but the chevalier that was exactly what she’d have done, but now? If love had grown between herself and her husband, it would have been a bonus. The couples had married sight unseen and they seemed happy. Guy was a friend, a man she respected as well as loved. Based on her reaction to his kiss, there’d be passion in their bed. Would it be enough?
“I’ll consider your kind offer,” she choked out the words.
“That’s all I ask.”
Guy offered her his hand. She took it, stood, and they continued along the dock and boarded the ship. As soon as they stepped onto the deck, the plank was pulled up behind them.
Guy escorted her to her cabin, but stopped outside the door.
“I’ll leave you here. I have to speak to the captain. Goodnight, Izzy.”
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. Without a word, he continued down the hallway to the captain’s quarters.
Isabelle watched him move away from her and then turned and entered the cabin trying to be as quiet as possible. She could hear the sound of Aline’s even breathing coming from the far side of the room. Guy’s proposal weighed heavily on her mind. On the one hand, she wanted to shout yes with all her heart, but on the other, she wanted to weep for what she might never have.
The Price of Honor (Canadiana Series Book 1) Page 21
