Chapter Ten
Guy led the soldiers to his mother’s cabin door and knocked loudly, hoping the sound would cover the thumping of his heart he was certain everyone could hear.
“Maman,” he called.
“Yes, Guy,” she answered. “What is it? What do you want so early? The banging frightened Isidore. You know how timid she is.”
“Pardon, Maman, I’m sorry to have to disturb you, but there are soldiers with me who must search the room.”
He heard the bolt pulled back, and the door opened.
“Search my cabin for what?”
His mother stood barefoot in the doorway, bonnet on her head and shawl pulled tightly across her shoulders over her nightdress. Isabelle climbed out of the bed, similarly attired, her small, brown feet peeking out from under the long, loose nightgown she wore. Her hair was tucked up under her sleeping cap; she kept her eyes downcast.
“For Isabelle de Caen who apparently made off with the family jewels,” Guy answered, his voice dripping sarcasm.
Isabelle shuddered, but pulled the shawl around herself to hide the slight movement.
Guy turned to the corporal.
“You can search now. My cabin’s through the connecting door.” He stood to the side and let them enter. “I can guarantee you won’t find any stowaways under my bed.”
The man opened armoires and checked under the bed as well as behind the privacy screen before approaching Isabelle.
“Mademoiselle,” he said. “I’m sorry to have to disturb you and your aunt in this fashion, but could you remove your bonnet?”
Isabelle kept her head lowered and her eyes hooded as she raised her hand and removed the cap that covered her hair. Two simple brown braids fell to just below her shoulders.
“Thank you,” he said, waiting as the second soldier checked Guy’s room.
Within five minutes, the man returned and shook his head.
The corporal nodded.
“My apologies for having disturbed you, madame, I wish you and your niece a pleasant voyage.” He turned to Guy. “My lord, thank you for your cooperation.”
He followed the other soldier into the next cabin.
Guy smiled at his mother and bent down to kiss her.
“This has been most upsetting for Madame Gaudier,” he added, not looking at Isabelle, afraid his anger with her would betray him. “I’ll let the cook know you’re awake and ready to break your fast.”
He closed the door and returned to the weather deck.
Captain Étier stood with half a dozen soldiers, the lieutenant, the priest, and the chevalier. Where was the other man he’d seen earlier?
The captain scowled, his face an angry red.
“You’ve searched my ship from the bilge to the crow’s nest. There’s no one hiding anywhere. Are you satisfied? If we don’t leave soon, we’ll miss our chance to do so today.”
The last of the soldiers searching the vessel stepped onto the deck. At the lieutenant’s silent question, he shook his head.
“All clear, sir,” he reported. “There’s no one resembling the woman in question aboard this ship.”
The lieutenant looked at the chevalier who nodded to the officer.
“Have your men wait by the carriage,” he ordered before turning to Guy.
The soldiers disembarked, and the priest left the deck, leaving only the lieutenant, the captain, and the sailors with them.
“I was so certain she would be here,” he said. “Perhaps you’re right, my lord. I didn’t think to search the abbey. It would be like her to hide in the bosom of the church. We’ll go there at once. Walk with me.” He went down the gangplank and along the pier toward the carriage.
Guy followed.
“You’re an enigma, my lord,” the chevalier said. “I don’t like puzzles. You know Sophie isn’t Pierre Gaudier’s widow, and yet you’ve said nothing. Why?”
“Why should I?” he asked. “I’ve seen the king’s seal on her trunk. If his majesty is ready to allow the charade, who am I to argue? Since Sophie’s being passed off as a widow rather than a maid, I assume she’s been light skirted and is no longer a virgin. For all I know, she may even be carrying some man’s bastard. Besides, this suits me. I may marry her myself. Pierre was granted land in the colony that abuts mine. If it reverted to the crown, it might be harder to acquire. As for Isabelle, since Pierre died a traitor, I’m certain the king wants to hide her connection to him. Either way, it’s none of my business.”
The chevalier laughed. “Touché! I see that you’re not only an officer, but a gentleman, and a shrewd businessman. I’m really not a heartless man. The other night, the women were dressed so alike, the one could’ve passed for the other.” He shook his head. “Sadly, the girl’s just a pawn in this game. I wish you an interesting crossing.”
With that cryptic remark, he entered his coach.
Guy turned back to the ship, meeting the lieutenant at the base of the gangplank.
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope to go to New France when this tour of duty is over. I understand a man can do well for himself there. I’m not surprised we didn’t find her here. Apparently, she returned to the castle yesterday afternoon just as expected. When the chevalier arrived at Caen, we were already searching for her. The housekeeper is beside herself. None of her things are missing, except a dress and a pair of riding boots. There are no horses or carriages unaccounted for, but the servants say she was most upset. Her father died only days ago and now her sister leaves for the colonies ... A woman’s mind is frail. For my money, they’ll find her in the witch’s pond if they find her at all. God have mercy on her soul.” He crossed himself. “Adieu, sir. May your voyage be a pleasant one. Perhaps, God willing, we’ll meet again one day.”
He continued down the wharf. Guy boarded the ship.
“A moment, captain,” he called approaching the man.
“Yes, my lord, what can I do for you?”
Guy took out his coin pouch and handed him ten gold Louis.
“Please call me Guy since we’ll be together for the next two months. The title is too new for me to be comfortable with it.” He chuckled. “Women. Who knows what they’ll do to confound a man? At the last minute, my mother decided to bring her orphaned niece with us. I don’t really know the chit. She’s her sister’s niece by marriage, but the poor thing is alone in the world now. She’s a quiet little mouse who’ll share my mother’s cabin. That should cover her passage.”
“Very well, sir,” the captain replied. “Late yesterday, we acquired another passenger bound for New France. With the additional stores my lady sent from Caen last night, one more mouth to feed won’t be a problem. I didn’t see the lady yesterday, but I hope they do find the poor girl at the convent. I heard she was a rare beauty. Now, if you’ll excuse me, we must set sail.”
He began to shout orders to the men.
As Guy moved toward the quarterdeck he pondered what to do with Isabelle. Obviously, she hadn’t shared this escape of hers with Sophie, a cruel thing to do considering how upset the girl was. Why had she really run away from Caen? Life and death? A cloud crossed the sun and he shivered in the sudden chill. Something about the chevalier’s last words didn’t sit right with him.
Stepping into the companionway, he almost careened into another man. Where had the man come from?”
“My apologies, sir. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone. I’m Seigneur Guy Poirier.”
“Gerard Giroux, my lord,” the man said. “I was lucky to get passage aboard this vessel. I thought I would have to wait for the next ship. I’m a gunsmith by trade.”
Guy nodded. “The colony can always use skilled craftsmen. Where are you bound?”
“Canada, specifically Ville-Marie, your grace.”
“As am I. Enjoy the rest of your day. If you’ll excuse me, my mother awaits.”
* * *
Isabelle, washed and dressed in her black wool dress and the white cap Aline had provided, her hands cleaned and debrided to ensure there wouldn’t be any infection, sat at the worktable, nibbling at the bread and jam the cook’s boy had brought, her stomach still in knots after the close call. If she’d gone ahead with her original plan, all would’ve been lost. She couldn’t thank God enough for this turn of events, convinced He was now on her side.
The boy’s clothing she’d worn was hidden in the back of the armoire, ready to be pitched overboard after dark. Aline had hidden the remaining stain among her herbs and medicines and rubbed her sore shoulder with liniment, the aroma of mint strong in the small cabin.
Why had the chevalier returned to Caen? He wasn’t supposed to. Murielle must be sick with worry. His presence would definitely endanger the woman who’d helped her.
“I hope you didn’t mind me calling you Isidore earlier,” Aline said, bringing her out of her musings. “I had to think of something quickly and it was the only name I could think of.”
“Why that name, Madame Poirier?” she asked the woman seated across from her.
“You must call me Tante Aline as a real niece would do. The year before Guy was born, I lost my only other child. Our daughter’s name was Isidore. She was always a frail thing, but so kind and good-hearted. We nicknamed her Izzy. Sadly, she got terribly sick that winter and died just before her fifth birthday. Would you like to use that name? You don’t have to. Only those soldiers and Guy heard it. It’s similar to yours, but we can’t call you Isabelle.”
Isabelle smiled at Guy’s mother. It had come to this. She’d lost everything now: her husband, her parents, her home, her name, and her honor. She’d disobeyed the king, committing treason by doing so, and had set out on a course of action whose outcome she couldn’t imagine.
“It would be an honor to share your daughter’s name, and since Sophie sometimes calls me Izzy; it’s providential.”
“Then Izzy it is.” Aline stood and walked over to the window. “Come here and look. This will be the last time you’ll see the coast of France. There’s no going back for any of us.”
Isabelle went to stand beside her and watched as the port of Le Havre grew smaller and smaller. Her course of action had not only damned herself but Guy and his mother. When there was almost nothing left to see, she turned to Aline.
“I’m so sorry for involving you in this, Tante Aline,” she said. “You and your son have saved my life and possibly the lives of others. I was terrified when the soldier asked me to remove the cap. I won’t feel safe until the ship is far out to sea, too far to be caught by anyone following us.” She dissolved into tears.
Aline took her into her arms and let her cry.
“Go ahead, little one. You’ve lost more these last few months than most do in a lifetime.”
Eventually Isabelle stopped sobbing, and when there was nothing left but hiccups, stepped out of Tante Aline’s arms, and wiped away the last of her tears with her hands.
“Things are far more complicated than you know ... it wasn’t only the marriage to d’Angrignon.”
Aline nodded and moved toward the bed.
“Wait until my son returns. In the meantime, Guy has arranged to have breakfast brought to me and the chamber pot emptied, but there aren’t any servants aboard this ship. We’ll have to cope for ourselves. I’m used to hard work, but you’ve been raised a lady. Alas, that’s no longer the case. You aren’t aristocracy now. The blood in your veins may be blue, but it’s something no one can ever know. From now on, you’re a farmer’s orphan. How long will your skin stay that color?”
“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 my 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.