Flora closed her eyes, remembering. 'I was so distraught. I came away from his cabin, and I went back to Rosie.'
'Did ye put them away?'
'All I can remember is putting them in the top of the chest, on top of the clothes.'
'You might have dropped them, they might have fallen out when ye weren't looking,' Meg suggested. 'That was a dreadful time for you.'
'Oh, Meg, Eliza, what shall I do if I've lost them? They were all presents from Jamie, for our wedding, and the children, and he'll never forgive me! He'll think I don't care for him any more!'
She suddenly remembered that Jamie had given her nothing when Matthew had been born. He'd apologised, saying he wanted to purchase something special, and hadn't yet been able to find what he wanted. He couldn't love her now.
Eliza's voice brought her back to the present. 'Someone could have stolen them. I wouldn't put it past that Duclos to have tossed them back in your face and then stolen them, so he didn't have to give anything in return.'
'But no one else on the ship knew I had them.'
'Who saw ye talking to Duclos? I don't suppose he invited you into his cabin. Not with poor Annie in there. He wouldn't want ye to see how he kept her.'
Flora suddenly recalled the sailors watching her as she'd turned away. When she told Eliza the older woman nodded.
'That's it. They saw you, and anyone else on deck then could have. They've been stolen. And there's no way to find out who. I just hope it wasn't anyone with us now. Will ye tell Jamie?'
Flora shuddered. 'I – not yet. I need to think, try to see if there isn't another explanation.'
***
Christmas passed, and Jamie gave her a set of sapphires to celebrate Matthew's birth. She wore them to the party, and berated herself for a coward because she couldn't bring herself to tell him about the pearls. But unlike the other gifts, these had been given with a certain coldness, a reserve which had not been there before.
The weather grew worse. Flora sometimes felt she would never be warm again, even though they had plenty of wood to burn and always had a roaring fire. She piled on extra clothes, and worried about the children. But none sickened, they seemed to thrive in the conditions, and the older ones relished the times they could play in the snow.
Gradually, tediously, the winter passed, and suddenly it was warm again, the trees in leaf, the river unfrozen, and mild spring breezes wafting gentle air from the south.
'When can we move?' they all asked Jamie.
'As soon as we've arranged for boats,' he said cheerfully, and set about organising the next stage of their journey. 'We'll get most of our supplies and seeds in Montreal, except for a few things which would be much more expensive there.'
'Will we have time to buy them while we're there?'
'Yes. We have to change ships again there, and we don't want to have too much to move again.'
There was a concerted groan. 'Not another boat,' Bruce said.
'I'm afraid so. There are rapids, and above them we can travel on bateaux.'
Flora hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. The thought of yet more weeks confined to boats was unwelcome, yet she longed for the wide open spaces instead of the town.
She would be happier away from the ever-present threat of Arabella, too, even though she had never seen the woman, and was unsure whether Jamie had. When they were away from Quebec, she promised herself, when there was no fear that Jamie might reject her and turn to Arabella, she would confess about the pearls and her ring. So far she had found no suitable opportunity.
And she ached passionately for her own home once more, rather than these temporary lodgings. She began to think about packing and one afternoon decided to survey her medicine chest. She must list the items she needed to replenish, and buy what she could before they left the town. Unable to gather wild herbs and plants, or grow what she needed, she had to depend on dried ones, and was less confident of their effectiveness. Further into this wild country she might be able to find the plants she knew, but she could not be sure of obtaining certain other ingredients. She had the contents strewn over the table when Jamie came in, and threw himself down into the chair beside the fire.
'What is it?' Flora asked. He looked weary, and by the way he clenched his fists she knew he was angry.
'That foolish girl, Annie, refuses to come with us, and her mother's distracted,' Jamie said, sighing.
'Why? Has she reason to stay here?'
'From what her mother says she thinks herself in love with the son of the house where she works.'
'Annie? After what she was subjected to by that dreadful Duclos? How can she even begin to trust another man after that?'
He shook his head. 'I cannot imagine. But she told her mother that he'd promised to marry her when he inherits a legacy, due to him when he comes of age – '
'You mean he's still so young?' Flora interrupted.
'He's nineteen. Just. So it will be two years before he's in a position to keep his promise. How many young men of nineteen stay constant? Especially if the foolish wench is allowing him into her bed, which her mother says she is.'
'Can't she be forced to come? She's only seventeen.'
'Her mother hasn't the necessary control over her, now her father's dead. Nor has her aunt. They hope I'll do something, but what authority have I over the silly girl?'
'Have you spoken to her?'
'Yes, just an hour ago. She laughed at me, told me I was an old man and didn't know what love was all about.'
Flora bent her head. Did any of them? But Jamie was speaking again, and she forced herself to listen.
'Will you go and see her, try to persuade her?' he asked. 'Another woman might be more successful than I was.'
And I can tell her that love grows stale, sour, and doesn't last, Flora thought bleakly. Then she tried to banish the thought.
'If you wish. I'll go on Sunday, when Meg can care for the children. It's her Sunday off this week.'
Flora thought hard about how she would approach Annie, and in the end, feeling as though she was betraying Meg, she decided to enlist Andrew's help. Annie had liked him, and he'd returned her liking, flirting with her as they sailed up the St Lawrence. It was only since she'd obtained her present position that she had transferred her affections to this unknown French boy.
Andrew took a great deal of persuading, protesting that he hadn't seen Annie for weeks, and had other interests. Eventually Flora wrung a promise from him that he would at least talk to Annie, and try to show her how desperately hurt her mother would be if she were deserted by her eldest daughter.
'I'm not promising her anything,' he warned. 'I have no intention of getting wed, and I won't even suggest the possibility.'
'Unlike the promises you made Meg?' she retorted.
'She told you that?' he demanded. 'If she did, she lied! I made her no promises.'
From the outraged expression on his face Flora was inclined to believe him. He sounded now as though he had no thought of marrying the fur-trader's daughter either. Maybe she'd refused him. A penniless settler, and one who was rapidly gaining a reputation as a reckless gambler, was hardly a suitable match for a rich heiress, however handsome he was.
She was confused. She'd believed Meg's protestations at the time, even though she'd thought her foolish. Had the girl told her lies, in which case her opinion of Meg had to be altered, or had the girl merely misunderstood? It was easy, in the throes of passion, to read more into whispered words of love than had been intended.
It was a considerable walk to Annie's house, and Flora felt awkward. She hadn't been alone with Andrew for months, and was conscious of his broad shoulders, the swing of his kilt, and the envious glances of the young women they passed. Andrew, she knew, was also aware of the admiration of the girls out strolling in the warm spring afternoon. He preened, and she was suspicious that the extra solicitousness he demonstrated when he offered her his arm was intended not as a compliment to her, but a provocation for his
admirers. But the knowledge didn't make her feel easier.
The talk with Annie was pointless, Flora realised from the start. The girl was angry, demanding to know why they couldn't leave her alone, and why they had dragged her out to the viewpoint overlooking the river.
'No one tried to get me from that monster's cabin,' she stormed, tossing her head. 'Do you know what I had to endure there? He was insatiable, and he insisted I did the most unspeakable things! Most of the time I wanted to die, but no one cared, no one tried to rescue me. Now there's someone who loves me, and you're trying to make me leave him.'
'Your father loved you, and died in his attempt to rescue you,' Flora reminded her coldly. 'Duclos would have killed anyone else who crossed him. Your mother is widowed because of it, and you might have the compassion to stay with her for a while, until she's settled here. It will be difficult enough for her to manage a farm on her own, and she needs you.'
'I hate farming,' Annie said. 'She could stay here and go on working in that general store. Then, when Louis inherits his grandmother's money and marries me he'll be able to help them. He won't care about them if they're hundreds of miles away.'
'You talk to her,' Flora said, rigid with anger at the girl's attitude. 'Try to show her how mistaken she is,' she said to Andrew and walked away to sit on a bench.
Several minutes later he rejoined her. 'It's no use,' he said, sighing. 'The foolish wench is expecting his child.'
'What? Oh, no!'
Flora swung back towards Annie, who was walking away from them, and seized her arm. 'Annie! One thing you can be sure of is that he won't marry you now!'
'He will when he can. He's promised,' she said, stubbornness in every line of her body.
'No. You'll be dismissed from your job as soon as his parents discover your condition. And he won't defend you. He'll be glad to be rid of an embarrassment.'
'You don't know him.'
'But I do know what happens to girls in your condition when they have no family to help. They find only one way to earn a living. Do you want to finish up in the brothels?'
Annie was still adamant, and they had to admit defeat.
'Ought we to tell her mother?' Andrew asked. 'If she knows about the child perhaps she might persuade her.'
'Do you really think so?'
He shook his head. 'I could kill Duclos for what he's done. Before that she was a happy, normal girl. She discovered evil too brutally on the ship, and it won't be easy for her to change. But do we tell her mother?'
'It's difficult. If she knows she'll fret, she might even refuse to come with us. And she really detests working in that store. She longs for the country, the open spaces, as much as I do myself.'
'If she stays she'll be unhappy, unable to help. I suggest we don't tell her. I can ask a friend to keep an eye on Annie, and he'll let us know how she fares. If she needs help in the future, we might be in a better position ourselves to offer it.'
Flora hated the idea of deceiving Mrs Cameron, but she suspected that in the same position she might have preferred to be ignorant. Had she the right to interfere between mother and daughter, perhaps destroy any closeness that remained?
And if she kept it a secret, it would have to be a secret from Jamie too. He would have no doubts, he would say Annie's mother had the right to know, whatever distress the news caused her.
***
Flora looked at the letter and turned it over carefully. She broke the seal, and noticed a small crest stamped on it. As she unfolded the letter her first impression was of bold, flourishing writing, sprawling all over the sheet. This writer clearly had no need to cross her letters, Flora thought, recalling the way she and her aunt had crossed and recrossed their letters to one another to avoid having to pay for a second sheet.
Who was it? Bold though the writing was, the signature was difficult to read. And when she had carefully traced each letter Flora was no wiser. Who was Lady Phillips? She read the first few words and sank onto a stool. This was what she had feared.
'My dear Mrs Lennox,
You may not recall me, we met only once in Edinburgh, but I was acquainted with your husband for a considerable time. My name then was Arabella Mordaunt. I was delighted to hear you were both in Quebec. You are so brave to contemplate settling here. I do hope you can come to dine with my husband and myself on Saturday. It will be just a small party, a few of my husband's fellow officers and their wives.'
Arabella, here in Quebec. Had Jamie known? And if he had, why did he not mention it? And why had Arabella contacted her? Surely she would not wish to entertain the woman who had enticed Jamie away from her? It had not been deliberate, Flora told herself firmly. She had not known of Arabella's existence until after Jamie had offered for her.
She did not wish to go. How could she refuse? What excuse could she use? All their preparations for the next part of the journey were made, they awaited only a suitable ship. Should she refuse outright, or pretend to be indisposed? And if she did might Jamie go without her? Did he know Arabella was here? He must do! How did Arabella know about them being here unless she had seen and spoken with Jamie? At the thought she squared her shoulders. She would not be weak and pretend, nor would she avoid Arabella. However cool Jamie was to her at this time, she was his wife, the mother of his children, and she would not allow Arabella to intimidate her.
Flora began to make plans. She would have to wear the sapphires, and she needed a special gown to go with them. Deep blue silk, she decided, and went to purchase a length. She worked in secret, sewing the gown. Quite plain apart from some of her own embroidery round the hem and cuffs, it was high-waisted, with a narrow skirt and small puff sleeves, the bodice cut just low enough for the sapphires to rest on her neck. She looked taller and very elegant, she decided, viewing her reflection in a small hand mirror, the only one she possessed.
Jamie hired a carriage to take them to the house where Captain Sir George Phillips lived. Flora, nervous, watched him through lowered eyelashes. He seemed much as usual, neither excited nor nervous. What did he feel for Arabella, his lost love? Well, soon she would be able to watch them together, and that might tell her something.
'Jamie, and Flora, do come in! How lovely to see you out here in this odiously provincial country. But that is the problem with being wed to a soldier! I may call you Flora?' Arabella greeted them with a beaming smile. She was as slim and ravishing as Flora remembered, lively, with the occasional wicked glint in her green eyes.
Jamie kissed her hand with just a little too much enthusiasm, Flora thought grimly, as she put on a brilliant smile herself. Arabella's husband came across to greet them, and Flora looked up into a dark, almost saturnine face. He was much older than Arabella, at least fifty, she judged. Why had the girl, with most of Edinburgh at her feet, chosen him?
There was no time for reflection. Three more couples were in the drawing room, officers and their wives, and almost as soon as they had been introduced dinner was announced. Jamie was seated on Arabella's right, Flora besides Sir George, much too far away to eavesdrop on Jamie's conversation. Flora was soon explaining why they had come to Canada.
'You were evicted? But how shocking!' Sir George exclaimed. 'We heard that some families were leaving the Highlands, but not that they were being forced out by their landlords.'
'What do you plan to do here?' the man on Flora's right asked.
She explained, and he shook his head sorrowfully.
'I wish you good fortune, but it's a hard life. The natives resent our presence, apart from when we provide them with guns and drink. They don't like us cultivating what they claim are thier lands, but they don't do much cultivation themselves, they live on berries and game.'
'Not all of them,' Sir George disagreed. 'In America the settlers have pushed the Indians far to the west, but here we tend to mix with them to trade furs.'
'The Americans blame us for Indian resistance to settlers. But the British traded furs all through Louisiana. We have some interests there s
till.'
'Are the Americans a threat?' Flora asked, alarmed. 'They resent the British searching their ships.'
'They have to show their independence. No, it's just an occasional irritation,' Sir George said reassuringly. 'We both patrol the border, but it's so long that's impossible to do properly. Many Loyalists fled here after the rebellion, and they are disliked for that.'
'There's nothing to be afraid of. They haven't enough trained men to wage war.'
'Enough,' Sir George said briskly. 'We don't want to alarm Mrs Lennox. How was the journey across the Atlantic? I hope you were comfortable?'
'Tolerably,' Flora replied. For some reason she did not want Arabella's husband to know how dreadful the conditions had been. Arabella, she was sure, had travelled in the greatest possible comfort.
When the ladies withdrew, Arabella came to sit beside Flora on a pretty, satin-covered sofa. 'I never expected to see Jamie as a farmer,' she said lightly. 'He tells me he has been working here as a labourer. How the ladies of Edinburgh, and London too, would gasp with surprise. He was always so urbane, charming to the ladies, so beautifully dressed, quite a dandy, in fact. Beau Lennox, some of us called him.'
'He finds satisfaction in farming,' Flora retorted.
Arabella looked amused. 'Does he? It's a novelty, I imagine. For how long will it last, I wonder? How long before he wishes to return to the drawing rooms of civilised society?'
Flora forced herself to laugh lightly. 'Oh, I doubt he will ever return. He has great plans for our children. Do you have babies yet, Lady Phillips?'
Arabella sighed. 'Unfortunately not yet. Now I must talk to my other guests. But do remember, if there is ever anything I can do to help you and Jamie, pray call on me. I would help for old times' sake.'
***
Chapter 10
Several irritating difficulties delayed their departure until late May. Some of the supplies they needed from Quebec were not ready in time, one of the children developed a fever, the boat they planned to go in was incapacitated by running onto rocks on its previous journey. Flora fretted to be gone. Apart from a few remarks about the visit to Arabella, Jamie had not mentioned her again. Flora was in agonies as she wondered whether he saw her at all, but knew she could never ask.
To A Far Country Page 13
