“Fiancée?” Sophie shrieked as soon as the man was out of earshot.
“When were you going to tell someone?” Aline asked, approaching the boat, a huge smile on her face. “Felicitations, my belle, although I almost died when you dangled from the ladder like that.”
Isabelle’s cheeks heated once more, as surprised by Guy’s words as the others were.
“Guy asked me the night of the wedding feast, and I agreed. We wanted to keep it quiet until after you and Henri were married, but it seems Guy’s changed his mind.”
“You’re right, Izzy, I have. After the scare you gave me today, I want to be sure there’s no chance you’ll get away from me and find someone else. If I could, I’d shout it from the roof tops, so everyone would know what a lucky man I am.”
Surprised by his statement and the warmth in his eyes, Isabelle smiled.
“I’m the lucky one,” she said softly, now that she knew he cared for her and believing those feelings could easily turn to love.
“Congratulations, my lord. Mademoiselle Leroux is a rare prize,” Monsieur Martin said. “I wish you a long happy life together.”
The sailors made fast the boat allowing its passengers to alight. Guy jumped out first and helped Sophie out and then reached for her, refusing to set her down, much to the delight of those on the wharf. Monsieur Martin chuckled as he ordered a sailor to go to the nearest shop and procure shoe ribbons. As soon as the seaman returned, Guy sat her on a barrel and, after carefully tying both shoes with the new ribbons, stood her on the ground.
“Welcome to New France, Izzy. May it be the land of your dreams.” Guy kissed her on each cheek to the catcalls of the crowd.
“It already is,” she whispered.
“I’ll bid you all adieu,” Monsieur Martin said. “The captain wants to weigh anchor as soon as we’ve been provisioned and all of the cargo has been unloaded. We’re returning to Saint Pierre for a few days to finish transferring items from La Jeunesse to the ship. We’ll stay close to shore until we’re sure those who attacked her are long gone. I wish you all health, prosperity and happiness.” He jumped back into the boat.
“Safe trip to you all,” Isabelle said, and watched the sailors dip their oars in the water for the short trip back to the vessel. The chances she would ever see any of the friends she’d made among the crew was remote, and she would miss the man whose sketch she would treasure for the rest of her life.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Gerard said. “I want to have a look around here. I will come to the palace later this afternoon, Madame Gaudier, if that meets with your approval.”
Sophie turned beet red. “That would be most welcome.”
“Aline, if you don’t mind, I’ll do the same,” Henri said. “There’s so much to see here, and I would like to know what to expect when we reach our new home. I’m quite taken with those buckskin pants and jackets.”
“Look around as much as you like. I’ll practice walking where no one can see me before I take in the town. You can tell me all about it later,” Aline said, smiling at the older man.
Guy grinned. “Go and enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. Quebec has much to show for itself. Henri, there’s a man down that way who sells buckskin garments. I have a set I wear hunting. If I didn’t have business with the governor, I would join you. Your rooms are at the St. Louis, just inside the gates. Give my name. They’re expecting you.”
Once the longboat was well away from the pier, Isabelle turned to examine the area Guy had called la basse ville. He’d explained that this part of the city, the lower town outside of the stone ramparts, consisted of warehouses, taverns, and shops. It was alive with people doing business as well as those who had come to gawk at the travellers from the newest ship in port.
“When he decided to establish a colony here, trouble with the Indiens convinced Champlain the settlement needed to be fortified,” Guy said, pointing to the wall she could see along the cliff. “He built a wooden palisade just as we’ve done in Ville-Marie. A few years later, Governor de Montmagny who succeeded him, reinforced it with stone. Most of the day-to-day business of the town may be conducted outside its walls, but all of its eighty or so houses, inns, palaces, and convents are safely tucked within them. Our carriage is here.”
Guy handed his mother, Sophie, and her into the open carriage and climbed in sitting beside her. Once they were settled, it began its climb up to the top of the escarpment. Isabelle’s head spun from side to side taking in all the strange sights around her.
“Guy,” she asked, watching the horse plod up the hill behind a wagon pulled by a team of oxen. “Are any of the animals in the ark going on to Cayenne?”
“A few chickens perhaps, but most of those belong to us. With the help of the sailors, my men will transfer them as soon as possible. Other animals, procured specifically for the ship, will replace ours. The seaman and soldiers aboard L’Aigle Doré will have fresh food for the journey south. They’ll be provisioned again in Martinique. Don’t worry. They’ll be fine. Now, let me tell you a little about our host.
“Daniel de Remy de Courcelle, Governor-General of New France, its second one since it has been established as a vice-royalty, isn’t a patient man. He’s a man of action, more comfortable in a position of power and at war than he is as an administrator and that’s caused friction between him and Jean Talon, the intendant. Talon is the civil authority in the colony responsible for settlement, economics, and justice, as well as keeper of the colony’s finances. De Courcelle believes himself to be the sole authority in all things military, but he’s made some costly errors. I wonder if this business with Pierre isn’t one of them. Shortly after his arrival in 1666, he launched a disastrous winter attack against the Mohawk, one which threatened to cause problems with the Dutch settlers at Schenectady and the English at Albany.”
Isabelle interrupted. “That was just before Pierre was sent here.”
“It was. De Courcelle launched a second campaign against the Mohawk in September when he and Prouville de Tracy along with a force of fifteen hundred men from the Carignan-Salière Regiment, including Pierre and I, followed the Mohawk route along the Richelieu River and destroyed several unoccupied Mohawk villages, claiming the fur-rich land in the name of France. The Iroquois Confederacy sued for peace, but not all of the braves held to the decision of their chiefs. We’ve arrived.”
The Château Saint Louis was a large one storey stone building with a shingled roof. The carriage pulled up in front of the main doors where the governor-general waited with a couple of other men. She could see by the way he held himself that he was impatient, almost angry.
“Poirier,” he addressed guy, ignoring everyone else. “Your ship is a week late. I expected Gaudier. Where is he?”
The way he referred to Pierre made Isabelle gasp. Had Guy been wrong? This didn’t seem like a pleasant greeting. She swallowed, and through hooded eyes, she studied her host.
Guy stood and exited the carriage, turning to assist the women. “Your excellency, may I present my mother, Aline Poirier, my fiancée, Isidore Leroux, and Madame Sophie Gaudier, Pierre’s widow.”
The news Pierre was dead registered as shock on the man’s face. De Courcelle bowed deeply.
“Welcome to New France. Madame Gaudier, may I express my condolences; your husband was one of my most trusted men. New France will feel his loss as I’m sure you do.” He turned to Guy. “Perhaps it would be best to show the ladies to their rooms before we meet in my office?”
Guy nodded his agreement. At the governor-general’s signal, two men approached the carriage. He turned to Sophie.
“Ladies, these men will show you to your rooms. I’ve arranged for a light supper at seven. I’ll see you then. If there is anything you need, my servants are at your disposal.” He bowed, indicated Guy should follow him, and disappeared into the palace.
“If you’ll follow me?”
The footman led them in the opposite direction to the one Guy and de Courcelle had taken. Th
e citadel resembled most manor houses and governor’s lodges Isabelle had seen in France. They were led to the far end of the house, and each given a room of her own.
The rooms were comfortably furnished, and when the offer of a bath was made, Isabelle jumped at it. While she had washed aboard ship, the indulgence of a hot sit-down bath wasn’t to be had. She’d hoped to have one in Saint Pierre, but the captain’s decision to sail early had made it impossible.
Walking over to the window, she looked out on a parade ground where soldiers were busy drilling. She shivered. If what Guy suspected were true, peace might be a lost commodity in the colony. Hopefully, the governor-general would be able to stop the conspiracy and prevent a war.
Chapter Nineteen
“What happened?” de Courcelle demanded as soon as the door closed behind Guy. “How did my courier die?”
“He was murdered, your grace, because of something you and Talon sent him to France to do.”
“That’s a serious charge, lieutenant. You accuse me of being responsible for a man’s death. Explain yourself.”
Guy told the governor-general everything he knew about Pierre’s death and what he suspected, keeping only Isabelle’s identity and Sophie’s secret to himself. He showed him the maps recovered from the trunk found aboard La Jeunesse and the letter for des Courts, implying no one knew which woman aboard had carried them. He also gave de Courcelle the wampum belt Governor Denys had given him. When he’d finished speaking, de Courcelle’s face was grim.
“This wampum belt is worrisome, but less so than the false charges against my agent, Gaudier. One of the Mohawk chiefs who’s pledged his allegiance to France is in the settlement. I’ll show him this. Don’t look so surprised. The chiefs who signed the peace treaty are only too happy to cooperate with us; especially when it gives them an alternate place to bring their furs. They go to whoever offers them the best trade, and right now, it’s us.” He placed the belt on the table and walked over to the brandy decanter. He poured some of it into crystal glasses. “I’ll have my secretary draft the necessary documents to refute the charges against Pierre, and his widow most certainly can claim his lands. I’ll have Talon give her an additional three hundred livres. It can’t make up for the loss of her husband, but it’ll make her even more attractive to potential suitors. As to this conspiracy, Talon returned from Ville-Marie last week; he’s spent a lot of time there lately. I’ll invite him and Laval to dinner. We’ll speak afterwards. You’re dismissed.”
“Your grace.”
After leaving de Courcelle and getting the correct information from a footman, Guy headed down the hall to Isabelle’s room. It was still early in the day, and he hoped to show her some of the town. He also wanted to give her the news about Pierre’s pardon. He knocked on the door. Hearing her muffled answer to come in, he opened the door and stopped short when he saw her sitting naked in the tub. At the sight of him, she quickly covered her breasts.
“What are you doing here?” she shrieked. “Get out!”
“I’ll meet you in the garden, my lady,” Guy said, quickly averting his eyes, but not until he’d memorized the sight of her. He closed the door. Seeing Isabelle’s breasts, those beautiful globes of white skin tipped in pink, had sent an immediate hunger to his groin that persisted despite his best attempts to clear the vision from his thoughts. Uncomfortable and unable to do much about it, he paced the garden seeking to banish the image from his mind. With Pierre’s name cleared, how long would it be before they could marry? The sooner the better.
* * *
Isabelle stood in the doorway watching Guy mutter to himself as he walked up and down the garden path. Once again, she’d acted hastily and embarrassed them both. The fact she’d been dozing in the water was no excuse. She wasn’t in the convent any more, and she should’ve remembered that. Anyone could’ve been at the door. She swallowed her guilt and walked toward him.
“Guy, I must apologize,” she said, not wanting this to cause any awkwardness between them. If he was to be her husband, sooner or later he would see her naked.
“There’s no need. The error was mine.”
“No, it wasn’t, and you know it.” She stomped her foot. “I don’t usually invite someone into my room without checking their identity. I’d sent the servant girl for more hot water, and assumed she’d returned. I’ll not make that mistake again. I’m sorry to have embarrassed you that way. Can we please keep this to ourselves? I wouldn’t want your mother to think badly of me.”
“Certainly, Izzy, I’ll keep it to myself, but not because I was upset. I wasn’t embarrassed,” he said taking her hand. “Far from it. That glimpse of your loveliness has left me hungry for more. I look forward to our wedding night.”
Isabelle’s face and other parts of her anatomy, burned. Instead of the acute discomfort she’d felt when the chevalier had said something similar, Guy’s words warmed her all over.
He smiled and lifted his hand to push back a tendril of hair that had fallen across her forehead.
“I see your hair’s slowly getting lighter, my love. Will you keep it that way?”
Isabelle’s heart leapt at the endearment.
“Yes, it’s still darker than it was, but the red shines through it once more. I’m surprised to see how well the new growth blends in, but I have no more need for walnut-stained hair or skin. I have to admit, it’s good to feel so clean again.” She smiled. “I had no idea how much I appreciated a bath until I couldn’t have one.”
“I appreciated your bath, too, if only for a second.” He chuckled. “Once we’re married, you can have as many baths as you like. I volunteer to wash your back and rinse your hair.”
He wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed, pleased to see the awkwardness had passed.
“Thank you, kind sir, but before I burst with curiosity, what can you tell me about your meeting with de Courcelle?”
Guy pulled her arm through his and led her towards the southernmost part of the garden close to the edge of the escarpment well away from the men and women tending the vegetable and flower beds.
“I related everything we know concerning the charges against Pierre and the events surrounding his death, but I didn’t mention Cedric, d’Angrignon, or your flight from France. De Courcelle had already received a message from Denys concerning the sinking of La Jeunesse and will warn all the ships sailing from Quebec to be on the lookout for pirates.” He bent his head close to hers. “As we agreed, I showed him the maps and the letter to des Courts.”
“What did he say?”
“He was concerned as he was with the wampum belt Denys gave me. Tonight, Bishop Laval and Jean Talon will join us for dinner. The governor-general wishes to discuss these matters with them. It may be necessary to convene the Sovereign Council, the governing body of the colony, to deal with the ramifications of this, but as yet there are too many questions and not enough answers to call it. What if des Courts isn’t the only aristocrat involved in the conspiracy?”
“Could there really be others?”
“Perhaps. Since we don’t know what the end game is, we can’t assume anything. The other matter we discussed was Pierre’s death. De Courcelle considers himself responsible. He sent him to France alone to complete a specific task, one that inevitably got him killed. He’ll send personal letters to the king and Colbert denouncing the charges of treason against Pierre and clearing his name. Sophie may claim his land as well as an additional financial gift, and Talon will urge her to remarry once her mourning is over.”
Isabelle was ecstatic and threw her arms around Guy’s neck.
“Oh, Guy, thank you. Pierre was right. He said he could clear his name easily once he arrived in the colony, and you’ve done it for him. You’ve helped me keep my vow to him. I couldn’t have done this, any of this, without you.”
Isabelle reached up and kissed him gently on the mouth, and then sheepishly stepped back. After the sight of her in the tub, it took very little to enflame Guy. He didn’t loosen his
arms. He looked at her, desire written on his face.
“I didn’t do it only for Pierre; I did it for us.”
He bent his head, and she raised hers to meet his lips. The gentle caress fuelled an inferno of need, and her lips parted effortlessly to invite him to deepen the kiss and take what he wanted. He did, his mouth feasting from hers as she did from him. He pulled his lips away slowly, and smiled. He looked into her eyes, and she could read his desire.
“Izzy, you’ve honored your vow to Pierre, now it’s time to keep your promise to me.”
He released her, tucked her arm in his once more and led her out of the château’s grounds towards the ramparts to the north.
“Come, my love, let me show you the upper town.”
Arm in arm, she and Guy walked along the Rue St. Louis up to its gate and climbed to the top of the stone wall encompassing the town. From there they could see l’Église Notre Dame de Quebec, the Château Saint Louis, and the Château de l’Intendant further east, as well as the many houses that lay within the city walls. To the West, they looked out at the common area where several cows grazed. Further away, she could see the houses, barns, grazing sheep and cattle, and cultivated fields of the centimes, the hundredths into which the seigneuries were divided, framed by the endless forests that dominated he area.
“The cows grazing closest to the wall belong to those who live in the city. Each morning, they’re taken outside for the day, and then in the evening, they’re brought back inside the walls for milking and safety. This autumn, the owners will join to reap the harvests from the nearest fields and use them to feed and bed their animals for the winter.”
“And no one argues for a larger share?” she asked.
“Why should they? There’s more than enough for everyone.”
He turned her to face the town pointing out the small animal sheds and gardens behind each home.
“Everyone seems to have what they need.”
The Price of Honor (Canadiana Series Book 1) Page 24
