Things returned to a more normal schedule and most of the patients were cared for and discharged. Looking back on her first winter at Fort Lawrence, Darcy could see that the hunger in no way approached the magnitude of suffering endured in Ireland. Most of the deaths at the fort had been from disease and no resident actually died of starvation.
Longing to wash the hardships and memories of the winter away and start anew, she soaked all evening in a tub of warm water. For the first time in months, she washed her hair and filed her nails into smooth ovals. To Nathan, she never looked lovelier. Although she was thin, her eyes seemed brighter, and he found a respect in her fortitude which he had never appreciated before. He would never forget that she had saved his life, and for this he would be forever grateful.
The night before the sugaring off, everyone bustled about the parade ground making preparations. The women were busy cooking, and the regulars were erecting a platform for fiddlers. Firewood had been assembled under three large cast-iron pots, and the maple sap awaited its transition in several huge barrels.
Darcy had been baking pies all day in the kitchen when one of the women said there were some officers who requested pints of ale. She added that one of the men said he would take his drink only from the daughter of Brian Boru. Darcy was bending down by the hearth, and she stood up suddenly hitting her head on the bricks of the fireplace. Rubbing her head, she asked, "What does he look like?"
"He's very good-looking, but he has a cheeky attitude. See for yourself. He's the only one not in uniform."
As Darcy had suspected, there at the table was Jean Michel Lupe'. When he looked up, she stepped back out of sight into the kitchen.
How dare he come into her life again and shatter her piece of mind. He was a face from the past, and any feelings she might have had for him were over. Yet her heart was pounding furiously, and her palms were soaked.
It was apparent to everyone in the kitchen that Darcy was agitated, and the women questioned her, but she ignored them. She was too busy looking for a way to escape. There was only one door, and crawling out a window was ludicrous, so she decided to face him head on. I am no longer affected by this man, and I will prove it.
Drawing a pint, she straightened her back, took a deep breath and walked out the door. She felt his eyes on her as she approached the table. Suddenly Moses' words echoed in her ears. "He's been with some woman down there for years, she lives somewhere on the Piscataqua too." The jealousy she had buried all through the winter bubbled to the surface, and when Darcy reached the table she slammed the pint of ale down so hard that the contents drenched Jean Michel’s face and shirt.
He jumped to his feet, spewing forth profanities in French and English, as his comrades burst into laughter. "What the hell!" he exclaimed.
Darcy made no reply, turned on her heel and left. After Jean Michel recovered from his anger and the ribbing from the two officers, he started to think about what Darcy had done. She was furious with him about something, and he was determined to know what it was. If he could elicit that kind of passion from her, undoubtedly she still cared for him.
Lupe’ was headed to do a survey in the north and had been called to Fort Lawrence for a final consultation with Lawrence. He was overwhelmed with relief when he saw Darcy. He knew of the starvation at the fort from the beginning.
The unit trying to deliver the rations spent the winter at Fort Pepperell, near his home, and all winter long he was anxious about her. Jean Michel had been less successful than Darcy dismissing the events of last summer. He believed that distance and Elizabeth Campbell's bed would quell his desire for the fiery Irishwoman, but he had been mistaken.
He reminded himself again and again that Darcy loved Nathan Lawrence. He told himself that he was here only to make final preparations for his field work, but seeing Darcy again he felt the desire build once more. He memorized every detail of her appearance and every mannerism. These memories he would take to the interior to banish his loneliness on dark nights.
The long-awaited sugaring off festivities began the following afternoon. The morning was spent in final preparations, and by noon the fires had been set and the large pots filled with sap. All day long the liquid would be watched as it bubbled and boiled, and more sap would be added until the crucial cook-down began. The end result of a successful sugaring off was a year-long supply of thick, rich maple syrup used on everything from johnnycakes to sweet potatoes.
While growing up, Jean Michel had attended many of these festivities, and it surprised him that Darcy was not in attendance. He thought she would be interested in this New World tradition, and after a brief meeting with Colonel Lawrence, he went out onto the parade ground to look for her.
Jean Michel was happy to be out of the stuffy office and in the fresh air. He did not like Nathan Lawrence, and after their less than cordial parting last summer, there was a strain between them. He found the entire fort brimming with excitement.
The tables were crammed with pumpkin and corn puddings, sweet potatoes, venison, rabbit and veal. The sweets were just as diverse including, Indian pudding, apple pies and gingerbread. He helped himself to a hearty plateful of food and joined several of the officers at a table.
The sky was gray, and the air was crisp as Jean Michel and the others shared drinks and played draughts. Over the course of the afternoon and well into the evening, he had been watching the crowds, but still had not seen Darcy. As he was having a good-natured discussion with Captain Trevor regarding who was a keener shot, she came through the gate accompanied by an old man.
Jean Michel instantly took in every detail of her appearance. She wore a dark, green skirt with a green-and-white striped bodice, laced tightly over her white chemise, and although her hair was pinned up, the wind had freed several strands, which softly framed her face. She was flushed from the cool wind, and her eyes sparkled.
As they wound their way through the crowd, Jean Michel noticed something familiar about the old man. He jumped to his feet, and with his hand extended, he exclaimed, "Why, Moses Tinker! It's been years!"
They shook hands warmly, and Jean Michel invited him to join them at their table for a drink. Darcy walked on, not caring to encounter Jean Michel. She planned to avoid him until he set off for the interior in a few days. Moses and Jean Michel reminisced about old times and family until the sun went down and torches were lit for the music and dancing.
Jean Michel watched Darcy, as she stood outside the door of the commanding officers' quarters. Finally he asked Moses, "What do you know of this McBride woman?"
"Ha! She asked the same thing about you," said Moses, taking a pull on his beer.
"Really? What did she want to know?" asked Jean Michel, leaning forward.
"Oh, nothing much," he said, scratching his gray head. "Where you lived, who your family was--that sort of thing, but the conversation ended on the spot when I told her you had a woman. She stood up and left the cabin and never mentioned your name again."
Moses looked at Jean Michel out of his good eye and said, "I find that odd, don't you?"
Jean Michel did not answer. He was looking at Darcy. It was clear now why she had been so angry with him. She was jealous and that pleased him immensely. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and said with a smirk, "Damn!"
The fiddlers struck up a tune, and Darcy watched the dancing closely. The dancers joined hands or held each other at the waist. Most of the steps were foreign to her and looked very difficult.
"I'll never get used to their crude style of dancing," said Nathan, as he joined Darcy in the doorway.
"What style of dance do you do, Nathan?"
"Certainly something more dignified and refined," he said with a sniff, "but I must be tolerant. They are peasant stock and know nothing else."
Darcy detested Nathan when he spoke of class distinctions, reminding her of his high-born breeding. She looked at him and gave him an insincere smile, as he leaned against the door frame smoking his pipe.<
br />
Almost as if he had heard Nathan, Jean Michel said to Moses sarcastically, "There's Colonel Lawrence, benevolent father to us crude provincials."
Next, he saw Captain Trevor approach Lawrence. Lawrence nodded his head, and Trevor swept Darcy out for a dance.
Darcy was grateful to Captain Trevor for his patience while she learned the different dances. It took several songs before she could master the steps, but soon she kept up with him. He was a big handsome curly-haired man with a broad smile, and Darcy found him amusing.
She accepted several more dances from other men then stepped to the side to catch her breath. As she was finishing a glass of cider, she felt someone take her hand and realized that it was Jean Michel.
He had removed his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves revealing the well-defined muscles in his forearms. He said nothing to her, and she followed him reluctantly out to where the dance area. They danced one time, Darcy refusing to look him in the eye. She stepped away immediately when the song was over. She was tense and uncomfortable in his arms, and she turned to look for Captain Trevor again.
As the evening progressed, spirits soared. Everyone was consuming more food than they had eaten the entire winter. Toward midnight, Darcy was starting to feel fatigued. The drinking and the dancing had taken its toll on her, and before another dance-starved soldier could grab her, she stepped into the shadows of the store room to hide and catch her breath. Pushing the hair off her wet forehead, she leaned against the wall of the building and sighed. She was warm, and her bodice was far too tight.
Darcy reached down and began to loosen the strings of her garment. Suddenly, someone said, “I should make my presence known before you go any further."
Darcy jumped. It was Jean Michel. He had followed her to the shadows. "How long have you been there?"
He made no reply. When she tried to leave, he stepped in front of her and demanded, "Why did you slam my drink down on the table this afternoon? Are you angry with me?"
"It was merely an accident, nothing more" and she stepped around him to go back to the dance.
"That was no accident," he said taking her shoulders and pinned her against the store room wall.
"Why were you asking Moses questions about me?" he murmured, looking at her lips. He was pressing his body so hard against her own that she could not breathe.
"Let me go," she demanded, trying to wiggle away from him.
Never had she felt such intensity from a man, and it confused and startled her. His passion was so extreme that she didn't know if he was going to strike her or kiss her.
"You were angry when you heard of Elizabeth, weren't you?"
He moved his lips close to her ear, and she could feel his warm breath as he whispered, "Tell me that you are jealous, Darcy. Say it!" he demanded. "I want to hear you say it!"
He brushed his lips along her ear, and Darcy closed her eyes, putting her head back. The pressure of his body, the masculine smell of sweat, and the sound of his breathing were too much to bear. She could not fight him. Her blood began to warm. His hands slid over her body, and she arched her back, pushing her breasts against him.
Just as he was about to kiss her neck, she remembered how Elizabeth's name sounded on his lips. She pushed him back and said, "You know that I love Nathan. Now let me go."
"Miss McBride!” a man barked. It was one of Nathan’s officers. “Colonel Lawrence would like you to retire for the night."
Darcy jumped back, panting. She straightened her hair and smoothed her gown, as the soldier watched with a smirk. Without looking back, Darcy retreated once more to the safe haven of Nathan Lawrence.
Chapter 26
Jean Michel lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have given that woman the opportunity to refuse me again? He had allowed his passion to dictate his actions, and he vowed to curb his desire permanently with this McBride woman.
He rolled over and tried to sleep, but the minute he closed his eyes his mind would take him to the shadows with Darcy, and he could smell her scent once more. Although she wore lavender, another scent haunted him more--a deeper, more sensuous perfume which he knew was her own.
Jean Michel tossed in bed trying to forget her, but the memory of her body next to his, and her soft breasts as they pushed against his thin shirt bothered him. He wished that he could bed Elizabeth tonight and cool his desire for that arrogant Irish tease. Elizabeth never aggravated him. She was always a serene compliant companion never arguing, always generous and kind.
He knew that Elizabeth Campbell was the woman he should marry, but for all of her loveliness and grace, she did not have the fire he longed for in a woman. Even before her husband had died, he knew that Elizabeth secretly loved him. Several months after Edward's drowning, she came to Jean Michel and told him of her true feelings, and for the following nine years they had been companions. During that time she had made no demands of him, never complained and always welcomed him with open arms.
Everyone described Elizabeth as beautiful, with soft blonde hair and large brown eyes, and although Jean Michel found her to be a satisfactory lover, she failed to inflame him.
Her docile, submissive attitude bored him, and in the nine years of their relationship, there had never been a cross word between the two.
The more Jean Michel thought of the serenely beautiful Elizabeth, the calmer he felt. He could see her soft brown eyes, hear her quiet voice, and he felt himself drowsing until finally he dropped off to sleep.
Jean Michel avoided Darcy over the next month, spending much of his time preparing for his field work. He was waiting for the ground to dry out and the air to warm enough to make an extended journey. By mid-May the days were long, the nights were warm, and Jean Michel was ready to set out.
The morning before he was scheduled to depart, Jean Michel met with Colonel Lawrence one last time. They spent the entire morning pouring over specifications, and finally Jean Michel asked, "Now, who have you commissioned to be my assistant?"
There was a long pause, and Nathan said, "I hate to tell you this Lupe', but I can spare no man."
"What? It's impossible for me to do field work without an assistant especially an engineering survey of this magnitude!" exclaimed Jean Michel.
"My company has not yet arrived from the south, and even with reinforcements it may be difficult to defend this fort. I expect a raid any day now," said Nathan, shaking his head. "I am sorry to inconvenience you."
"Inconvenience me? The job won’t get done. It's obvious, Colonel, that you know nothing of surveying. An assistant is essential for accurate calculations. If you cannot provide me with someone, then you are going to have to find yourself a different surveyor."
Jean Michel gathered up his things. As he put his hand on the door to leave, Lawrence said, "Please wait."
Heaving a sigh, Nathan opened a drawer of his desk and took out a letter. Showing it to Jean Michel, he said, "I received this correspondence today. In a little over a week my wife will be visiting me at Fort Lawrence. She has no idea of the danger here, and I am allowing her to stay only a short time before I send her back to Boston."
Jean Michel crossed to the desk and read the letter. He tossed it down and asked, "What does that have to do with me?”
"Surely you can see the precarious position this puts me in. I cannot continue to share my bed with Miss McBride, but I do not want to sell her indentured service."
"I still don't understand what you're driving at," said Jean Michel, clearly annoyed.
"I'm offering you the assistance of Miss McBride during your field work."
Jean Michel's blue eyes grew wide with astonishment. "Have you lost your mind, Lawrence? I cannot cart a woman with me to the interior!"
"You underestimate the strength of this woman, Lupe'. You know nothing of her. She has survived a famine, escaped hanging and without so much as a complaint, endured the starvation this winter. I have every faith that she will be an able-bodied
assistant for you."
Jean Michel shook his head. Lawrence must be truly desperate to ask him to take Darcy to the interior for weeks. Anything could happen there.
Almost as if Lawrence had read his mind, Nathan warned, "Don't take me for a fool, Lupe'. I realize that she is a highly desirable woman, and I expect her to be returned to me unsullied. She is your assistant only, and I remind you Miss McBride is my property.”
Jean Michel turned and walked to the window. From where he stood, he could see Darcy building a fire under a crucible. He had vowed never to touch her again, and now he would be alone with her for weeks. Celibacy would be torturous, but the opportunity to be next to her day and night stirred him.
* * *
Unaware of how her life was about to change, Darcy added more wood to the fire, trying to get a large pot of water to boil. She was about to dump a basket of goldenrod into the water to dye some wool when a soldier approached her.
Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry Page 23
