Chapter Twelve
After six weeks at sea, most of the days aboard ship had settled into a routine. In the early morning, rain or shine, the soldiers, often bare-chested and sweat-soaked, drilled out in the open air. While they did, the ladies cleaned their rooms, gathered in the galley for cooking lessons, or in his mother’s room to quilt or sew.
In the afternoons, while the soldiers studied the maps he’d given them, when the weather was good, like it was today, the brides would do the laundry or sit on the weather deck, engrossed in their own projects. Today, Guy watched some of them knitting, others crocheting, while Isabelle and one of the Ettes—he couldn’t tell Collette, Yvette, or Mariette apart—were embroidering, but none of the women seemed happy.
More than halfway through the voyage, many of the women were depressed, often giving in to tears or arguing amongst themselves over trivialities. His mother did her best to keep matters under control, but essentially, morale was low and tempers short. While everyone was healthy enough, depression could cause problems on its own.
Conditions aboard ship had begun to deteriorate as they always did, and the food which had been satisfactory when the voyage began was now less than appealing. The recent bad weather had forced them to consume nothing but worm-laden hardtack and salted beef. All of the fresh fruits and vegetables had been eaten as well as most of the preserves Isabelle had sent to the ship.
Sophie climbed the stairs and came to stand next to him. The young girl had matured over the last month and took her duty as chaperone seriously.
“May I speak with you, Guy?”
“Of course. What can I do for you?” he asked.
“I’m worried about the women. They need something to distract them. It occurred to me that Izzy, with her new identity, has lost everything, including her birthday. She would’ve turned twenty-five in August, but she can’t claim that date now. I’d like to throw a surprise birthday party for her. She’s become a favorite of all the ladies, and it’s been mentioned to me that, because she came as part of your family, she’s got nothing with which to set up her new home. They would like to share some of their bounty with her. This would give them an excuse and not make it seem like charity. While I know differently, we have to keep up appearances, n’est-ce-pas? What do you think? Could we celebrate Izzy’s twenty-fourth birthday next Saturday? It’ll be June, another cause for celebration since some of them will be within a fortnight of their new homes.”
“You’ve become very wise, Madame Gaudier,” Guy said, grinning broadly. “It’s a wonderful idea. I’ll speak with the captain. You can tell the ladies, but let’s keep Izzy in the dark. Planning a surprise fête will keep them all occupied and should lift spirits nicely.”
“Thank you, Guy. I’d better get back before Izzy wonders what I’m doing. She watches you like a hawk.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her words, and she laughed and shook her head before turning and going down the stairs.
Guy was thinking of what she’d said and the strange look on her face when Captain Étier joined him.
“A moment of your time, Guy?”
“Of course, captain. I wanted to speak with you as well.”
“I hope your news is better than mine,” the captain said, pursing his lips, his brow deeply furrowed.
The facial gestures concerned Guy. Even during the worst of the storms they’d faced during the crossing, Captain Étier had remained calm. Whatever was bothering him had to be serious. Were the rations running short? It was always a concern this late in the journey when landfall was at least two more weeks away. He would gladly sacrifice more poultry and a calf if needed, and the men should be able to start fishing soon.
“You have me worried, captain,” he said. “Pray continue.”
“It’s worrisome news, because it makes no sense. Since you’re a former military man, the first mate felt I should discuss this matter with you. As I’ve done ever since we left France, I posted a man in the crow’s nest last night to add to the regular watch. We’re still some distance from the mainland, but we’re ten degrees further north of the regular sea lane, the course change I made when we left France to avoid pirates ... I’ve stayed out of the shipping lane for the same reason, but now the watch continues looking for icebergs. Hitting a floating mountain of ice in the dark would be disastrous. Last night, my man didn’t see an iceberg. Instead, he saw the glow of fire and what he swears was cannon flash on the edge of the horizon. He probably wouldn’t have seen it had the night not been so calm and clear.” He took off his hat and wiped his brow.
“Lucien, my first mate, hears better than any of my men. He had the watch. At first, he thought it was the roll of thunder, but when the man in the crow’s nest claimed there was fire south of our position, he looked through the spyglass and saw the light himself. I was going to move into the sea lane today to avoid the icebergs, but I’ve decided to move another five degrees north instead and increase the watch once more.”
“Will that add much to the journey?” Guy asked, not wanting to add to the trip for the sake of the ladies.
“A day at best, but since we’ve been traveling at full sail the past week, we’ll make our first port of call a few days ahead of schedule.”
“I see. Any thoughts on what else it could’ve been?”
He shook his head and fisted his hands at his side.
“We did have a storm last night, but I doubt what they saw was St Elmo’s Fire, since that phenomenon is generally characterized by bright blue or violet flames found near the topmasts of the ship, and there was very little lightening to produce it. If my men say it was fire and cannon shot, I believe them, although I don’t know who would attack a ship out here or why. Some of them claim they can still smell smoke on the breeze since it comes from the southeast. My nose isn’t up to that task. I’m going to post extra men on duty—day and night. The ladies may notice since I’ll have to use the guard on the forecastle elsewhere. This may be nothing, but until I’m certain of that, I’ll err on the side of caution. Your thoughts on the matter, sir?”
Guy grimaced and took a deep breath. Could he smell smoke? Maybe. Pirates, especially this far from land, were a real concern. Could it be a Dutch man o’ war? Or a Spanish galleon? Perhaps an English privateer intent on muddying matters for his own gain?
“I agree with your decision, captain. Most likely this was a military ship, possibly one of France’s enemies perhaps considering bringing the war to the colony. We’re essentially a warship, but not one prepared to fight, since she’s desperately needed in Guyenne, especially now. Staying away from the regular route is a safe move. I don’t think we should explain this to the ladies and frighten them unnecessarily. Perhaps a distraction would be better. Sophie was mentioning she’d like to have a little fête to raise everyone’s mood.”
“I think a small soiree is an excellent idea. Allow me to offer my cabin. Eighteen can be housed for a meal with only a few adjustments. We’ll be on the edge of the fishing grounds by then. I need to speak to my officers, warn them of this new threat. Can I count on you to keep the women occupied and out of the galley for the next hour or so? I’d rather they not hear of this. Father Samuel is much improved, and he and Monsieur Giroux are in his cabin playing chess, which should keep them away as well.”
Guy smiled. “I believe the ladies are ready for a lesson in chess themselves. Perhaps I can get the priest and Giroux to help out—keep all your eggs in one basket so to speak.”
The captain chuckled. “Excellent idea, my lord. Excellent, indeed.”
Guy excused himself and went down to the main deck.
“Good afternoon, mesdames. Isn’t the sun strong today? Perhaps it would be a good time to go inside. May I suggest we adjourn to my mother’s cabin and I give you another lesson in chess? I’m going to ask Monsieur Giroux and Father Samuel to join us, too.”
He made eye contact with his mother, motioned toward the captain, and Aline smiled. She would expect an explanation later. Maybe he’d think of one by then.
“What a good idea, Guy,” she said, nodding and collecting her knitting. “For those who don’t play, we can start piecing the quilted squares. I feel the sun reddening my face. Come ladies. We’ll go inside now.”
The captain might not want the ladies to know what was happening, but he didn’t want the gunsmith to know either. The man seemed overly friendly with Sophie, and, since he felt responsible for the girl, he would feel much better keeping Gerard Giroux as close to him as possible. There was something about him...
* * *
Isabelle stood still while Tante Aline plaited her hair, a style she’d worn every day aboard ship. On hot days it kept the hair off her neck and on windy days it kept it out of her face. Tonight, everyone was taking greater care with their appearances because they’d been invited to dine with the captain. Any change in routine was a welcome one.
Isabelle wore her best dress, a pale blue linen gown with a square neckline. The bodice was a little loose but looked better than ever thanks to her darker hair. The sunlight had brought out the red in it, but all she’d retouched had been the roots. Since exposure to the wind and sun had bronzed her skin, there’d been no need to reapply the dye there.
There’d been a subtle shift in the ship’s activities this week. The captain had increased the watch—apparently there were icebergs in this area, although no one had seen anything resembling a floating mountain. Guy maintained they had nothing to worry about, but still ... She could’ve sworn she’d smelled smoke on the wind earlier in the week.
“Why haven’t the sailors fished before today?” she asked more for something to distract her than out of real curiosity.
“I asked that question myself,” Aline said. “It seems the ship must be a certain distance from land to fish. The waters are too deep elsewhere.” She put down the brush she’d been using. “I was astounded at the size and quantity of the fish, but Henri tells me not all of it is palatable. He chose those for supper tonight and for the chowder he’ll make for tomorrow. I think we’re ready.”
Aline crossed to the connecting door and knocked.
Guy opened the door, and Isabelle’s heart flip-flopped. He looked magnificent in his uniform. Like her, the sun had erased the pallor from his cheeks. He was a bit thinner, as they all were, and the tug of desire she’d tried to repress for weeks pulled at her strongly.
He smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling.
“I see the two most beautiful women aboard ship are ready. Maman, you look lovely as always, and Izzy, you take my breath away.”
Isabelle read desire in his eyes, but not the crude lust she’d seen in the chevalier’s, and it warmed her.
“Shall we?” He opened the door to escort them out.
Tante Aline went first and Isabelle followed. Guy closed the cabin door behind him.
“Are Sophie and the others coming soon?” Isabelle slowed her pace to be closer to him.
“I believe everyone is already there. May I?” He offered her his arm as they walked the last ten paces to the door where Tante Aline waited. As soon as they reached her, she flung open the door.
“Surprise! Bonne fête, Izzy.” The words echoed from the cabin.
Isabelle stood mouth agape, eyes overflowing with tears for the first time in weeks. Guy had mentioned she’d need a new birthdate, but she’d never suspected he’d intended such a thing as a party.
“I don’t know what to say,” she said, struggling for words. “I didn’t expect anything like this.”
Sophie moved forward, took Isabelle’s hands in hers.
“I wanted to surprise you.” She kissed her on each cheek. “Happy birthday, dear friend.”
Tears of joy continued down Isabelle’s cheeks.
“Thank you so much.” She put her arms around Sophie and hugged her.
“Come and sit. You have the foot of the table tonight,” Sophie said, leading her to her chair.
Guy was on her right, Sophie on her left. The other ladies, Monsieur Martin, Father Samuel, and Gerard Giroux occupied chairs along the sides of the table. The captain sat at the head while the one on his right was empty, no doubt for Aline, who’d vanished to help the cook and the cabin boy bring up the food.
Dinner was incredible, a veritable feast. Aline and the cook had collaborated on the meal which included baked fish, fresh bread, boiled eggs, the last of the pickled vegetables, and onion soup in which Aline had floated hardtack and the remaining hard cheese. The final rum-soaked cakes from Caen had finished the meal. Wine had flowed smoothly among the diners, and Isabelle was wrapped in a happy glow. It was the grandest meal they’d had in weeks.
“Tante Aline, that was delicious. I can’t believe how good the fish was. The aioli was magnificent. I hope you’ll teach us how to make it. I’d love to serve a meal like this once we reach Ville-Marie.” Isabelle sat back replete. “That was the best birthday dinner I’ve ever had.”
Sophie stood. “Now, Izzy, it’s time for your presents.”
“Presents?” Isabelle frowned. “I don’t need any gifts. This meal and your company was more than enough.”
“We don’t have a lot, Izzy,” Collette, the most outspoken of the women, interjected, “but you have even less. We want to share what we can with you. We’ve all contributed to your gift and the quilt is yours once it’s finished.”
Touched, Isabelle swallowed the emotions warring within her. These women had been kinder to her than she’d ever expected, and if the chevalier ever found her, they could all be in danger.
“I don’t know what to say. You’re all so kind...”
“When someone is as nice as you are, it’s easy to be kind,” Collette said.
Guy stood and carried a small wooden trunk over to the table. “The ship’s carpenter made it for you. When we get to the colony, I’ll have it lined in cedar.” He handed her the small trunk. The table had been cleared and she placed it in front of her. She raised the lid on which her initials, I.L. and a rose on each side had been carved and gasped at the bounty she found there.
The women had combined their resources and shared some of the items from their dowries. There was a woolen blanket, an apron, two pillow cases, a taffeta kerchief, a pale green wool shawl, fourteen needles, a spool of white thread, a pair of scissors, a knife, and a hundred pins. Sophie gave her a gold locket, one that had been given to her by Papa on her sixteenth birthday, and Aline had added a lace bonnet. In addition, Captain Étier had contributed two silver wine goblets. Monsieur Martin, a cartographer, had drawn a sketch of her and the ladies at work on the deck, and Gerard had presented her with a voucher for her own musket. Her most cherished gift was an intricately carved wooden rose from Guy.
“I don’t know how to thank you all for your wonderful gifts. I will do my best to make it up to you someday.”
After the gifts had been set aside for the cabin boy to carry to her room, the company moved up onto the weather deck where they sang hymns and listened as the second mate played haunting melodies on his flute. When darkness fell, the women retired to their rooms, and the captain returned to his cabin to hear reports from his officers.
Isabelle and Guy stayed on deck as they often did. She sighed.
“Thank you so much for tonight’s party. I think it was just what the ladies needed. We’ve all felt the tension from Captain Étier and his men, and it’s contributed to our unease. Land will be a very welcomed sight.” She saw the frown mar Guy’s face. Unwilling to have her evening ruined, she smiled sheepishly. “Life aboard ship has been vastly different than I expected, but I wouldn’t trade a moment of it for the life I had in France.”
Her days were pleasant, spent in the company of the mariées and Tante Aline, learning the basic skill she needed to run a home. On rainy days, she, Sophie, and Tante Aline taught the girls to read using the Bible and had shown them how to write their own names. A mark generally sufficed for this, but the ability to pen the letters was a great accomplishment. No one seemed to question the fact that a farmer’s daughter could read and write as well as a lady.
But her favorite time of day was just after dusk—the time she spent alone with Guy up on the stern deck. He’d had the ship’s carpenter build a small bench for them and affix it to the gunwale for safety. They would sit there, sometimes in companionable silence, or at other times in discussion about Guy’s plans for his estates.
When the sky was clear, Guy would point out the constellations and relate Montagnais and Huron myths about them. She loved the story of Dandeek, the warrior, who loved his young daughter, Mao’ ra, too much to let her die and followed her into the sky to become stars, although she felt sorry for the wife left alone.
The best evenings were those when he described the wonders of New France. By agreement, they didn’t mention Pierre, or why she’d left France. Not only might the conversation be overheard, but Isabelle didn’t want to think of anything serious or bad when she was with Guy. She clung to the fantasy she’d created, one in which they had a future together. Tonight, they’d climbed to their habitual perch. She waited for Guy to comment on her observation about the captain.
“Did you have a nice fête, Izzy?” Guy asked.
Instead of joining her on the bench as he usually did, he stood at the gunwale, staring down at her. The warm night was perfect in every way. The stars peppered the clear sky, and the half-moon danced above the water on the horizon.
“Oh, yes,” she said exhaling deeply. “It was the best party ever. Look at how generous everyone has been. They have so little, and yet they all shared what they had with me. Agathe gave me the taffeta kerchief, and I know it was the only one she had. That portrait that Monsieur Martin drew was incredible. What a lovely souvenir.”
Guy smiled. “It’s an excellent likeness of all the ladies, but especially of you. The man’s a talented artist. I can see why the captain uses him to map the coastlines and update his charts.”
Isabelle felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She’d thought the picture of herself far too flattering. Did he really think she looked like that?
“I’m not sure what I’ll do with Monsieur Giroux’s chit for a custom-made musket” she said instead. “I’ve never fired a weapon in my life.”
“You’ll have to learn, Izzy. Your lands lie outside of the palisade.”
“You mean yours and Sophie’s. I have no land.” She corrected him as one of the sailors came up the stairs. The man walked to the mast and began to climb. Guy nodded as if he understood the gaffe he’d made.
“Of course, I meant my lands, but until you’re married, little one, you’ll stay with Maman and I. Outside the palisade, you’ll face danger at the hands of both human and animal predators. I’ll teach you, Sophie, and Maman how to load and fire my arquebus, but a musket specifically designed for your smaller frame is an excellent idea. As well, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself with a knife. You have to promise me you’ll never leave the house unarmed.” He lowered his voice. “New France is a wilder place than Caen. A woman needs to be able to defend herself. If someone comes looking for you, that danger will increase.”
Isabelle shivered. She’d imagined some of the dangers she’d face in the new world, but until tonight she’d forgotten the chevalier’s men could be among them. She stood, moved beside him, and stared out at sea to control her fear.
“I don’t relish the thought of handling such weapons, but I suppose I’ve got to learn to fire a musket, even if all I want to do is scare off the bears and wolves you’ve described to me.” She turned back to him and raised her hand to place it on his arm, forcing him to look at her. “I want you to know my favorite gift was the rose you gave me. I remember when you gave me violets. They faded, but this one will last, and I’ll cherish it always.”
“I have something else for you, something I needed to give you when we were alone as you’ll see.”
He handed her a scroll. Isabelle took it and unrolled it. The half-moon shed enough light for her to see it was a baptismal certificate. She looked at him questioningly.
“Look at it closely,” he urged.
Isabelle examined the document carefully. It was from the Paroisse Sainte Marie near Lyons. She read the words on the document, awe filling her. The document stated that Isidore Leroux, infant daughter of Jeanne Marion Leroux and Richard Leroux had been baptised on the twentieth of June 1644. Isabelle looked up at him in amazement.
“Where did you get this?”
“I made it for you, so you’ll have documentation when we get to Ville-Marie. I used my baptismal certificate as the example. I was surprised at how easy it was.”
“But it even has an authentic wax seal!”
“I made a print of the seal using charcoal and then carved one to resemble it. It’s not perfect, but I don’t think anyone’s going to look at it closely enough to notice the flaws. I mixed my red sealing wax with soot from the lamp to get the darker color. Izzy, I’ve given you a past so that you’ll have a future.”
With you? Isabelle, overcome with emotion, threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him on both cheeks. She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with happiness.
“How can I ever thank you? You’ve done so much for me and I...”
She couldn’t tell him what was in her heart. He was her friend, had been Pierre’s best friend, and she couldn’t risk spoiling the relationship they had. It felt so right to be held in his arms, just once without tears, as if she belonged there.
Guy raised his hand and gently touched her face.
“Izzy?” He uttered her name hesitantly.
Looking up at him, she watched mesmerized as he bent his head and dropped a kiss on her brow, but the chaste action changed.
With a groan, his mouth rained tender kisses from her forehead down the side of her face, nuzzling the lobe of her ear, and continuing down her neck where her pulse hammered. His lips caressed her heated skin creating a yearning, kindling a fire within her.
She should pull away, but she couldn’t. From her neck, his mouth returned to her jaw and kissed its way to her mouth. At first, the touch of his lips was feather light, and then the pressure deepened. The kiss was soft and warm, but with an intensity that spoke of banked desire.
His tongue stole along her mouth inviting admission, and she opened to him. Need, primitive and out of control, a desire she’d felt only once before, ignited within her. Only he had ever kissed her this way, and she revelled in the liquid heat coursing through her veins. Their tongues duelled, both opponents and yet winners of the battle.
Her heart raced, and her breathing became labored. She flamed when he pulled her closer, moving his hands along her body, cradling the side of her breast, her taut nipples straining towards him, glorying in the feel of his manhood pressed against her abdomen. She thought she’d die of pleasure.
Never had she hungered after anything as badly as she craved Guy’s touch. The thirst started with his feathery kisses grew unquenchable. Kisses weren’t enough; she wanted more, something just out of reach only he could give her. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs had them springing apart as if a bucket of sea water had been thrown at them.
“Now, I understand why you two enjoy your evenings on the stern deck.” Sophie giggled.
Mortified, Isabelle looked away from Guy. She’d felt the evidence of his arousal against her and knew the flush of her own desire still coated her face. What might have happened if Sophie hadn’t interrupted them?
“I was just thanking Guy for the lovely presents,” she said quickly producing the scroll for Sophie to see. “Look, Sophie.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He’s created a baptismal record for me. Now, I have proof I’m who I say I am. I might have been a little too exuberant with my thanks. Did you need something?”
Sophie looked from Guy to Isabelle and back again.
“I wanted to give you this,” Sophie said. “I found it in my trunk when I went to get the locket. I thought the chevalier had taken it, but Murielle must have switched rings on him.” She handed Isabelle a small wooden box.
Isabelle opened the box to find her wedding ring, the one the chevalier had removed and replaced with the d’Angrignon emerald.
“I didn’t want to give it to you while we were with the others. Murielle must have put it there for you. It wouldn’t be right for me to keep it. Good night, Guy. Happy birthday, Izzy. I’ll see you both in the morning.” Sophie turned and left the deck as quickly as she could.
The silence between herself and Guy was deafening.
Isabelle stood still, holding the small box so tightly it hurt. What had she almost done?
“Izzy, I’m so sorry. I should never have let things get out of hand like that, but I’m only human, and you were so desirable...” He stopped speaking and looked away.
Surprise and guilt pierced her.
He covered his eyes and shook his head, reaching for her.
She pulled away.
“Izzy, I didn’t mean it like that. It was all my fault. I took advantage of the situation. Blame it on night madness, if you like.”
Isabelle felt as if she’d been slapped, and the embarrassment she’d experienced when Sophie had interrupted them, was nothing compared to the humiliation she endured now. Guy! Always the gentleman! Of course, he’d take the blame for her brazen behavior.
“I think I’ll go in now,” she stated as she moved toward the stairs. “Thank you for the gifts.”
Before he could stop her, she fled below and through the companionway.