Chapter Twenty-One
Isabelle stood at the front of the ship with Guy and the others. The sun glittered on the water, erasing all signs of the earlier gloomy day.
“It’ll only take us a little more than a day to reach Ville-Marie since, unlike the canoes, we don’t need to stop for meals and such,” Guy said. “We’ll travel as far as Trois Rivières where we’ll deliver cargo. We’ll anchor overnight because the river can be dangerous in the dark, and then go on to Ville-Marie early in the morning. We’ll arrive mid-afternoon. Tomorrow night, you’ll sleep in your own beds.” He gave Isabelle a wink. “Some of us have to wait a few more days.”
Isabelle’s cheeks heated, as did the rest of her, and Sophie laughed.
It dawned on her that it was the first time she’d heard her cousin do so in days. So preoccupied was she with her own problems, she hadn’t realized something was bothering her. It could easily be Gerard’s cryptic remark to Talon yesterday morning. If he were going to ask for Sophie’s hand, he should do so before deciding the matter was settled. Since Pierre had died in January, Sophie’s six-month mourning period, the amount of time the colony allowed, would be over soon. She would talk to her cousin once they were alone again. Following Guy’s directions, she turned her gaze to the vista before her.
The shoreline of the Saint Lawrence River offered an incredible view of pristine forests and rolling fields. Here and there, Huron villages edged the shores on both sides of the waterway. Periodically, Guy pointed out cultivated fields of wheat, oats, and barley in various shades of green, a color box to satisfy the eyes of an artist as well as Talon’s taller hemp plants. There were barns, stables, chicken coops, and farmhouses. The structures were all built along the river with their fields extending behind them.
“Those are the centimes of the seigneuries. Each estate is divided into a hundred long lots from the river’s edge or further inland from the road separating one estate from another,” Guy explained. “When we join our estates, we’ll manage two hundred of them.
“Look,” Isabelle cried. “There are mountains to the south. I can see them on the horizon. Is that where Michel and Marie Elise are going?”
“It is. Michel hopes to plant the colony’s first vineyard at their feet. There are mountains both north and south of Ville-Marie—not as grand as the Alps or the Pyrenees, but beautiful to behold. Those to the north are the Laurentians, named after the Iroquois who occupied the land when Cartier discovered it. They called their village Canada, the name given to this province of New France, but sadly, but the time French explorers returned, they had all vanished. Some believe there was an epidemic, others think they warred with the Mohawk, and those who survived traveled west. This land is larger than you can imagine. France in its entirety could fit in it several times, and we’ve only explored a fraction of it.”
“That’s so sad,” Isabelle mused. “An entire tribe gone.”
“Life can be hard here, ma belle, but we’re strong, and we’ll survive.”
After the wedding meal Guy had ordered, fresh bread and butter, a chicken cassoulet, and a spice cake for dessert, served with warmed maple syrup, Isabelle followed him and the others up on deck to watch the sunset and enjoy a last glass of wine. Days were much longer now, temperatures far warmer than in France, but the sights and smells of this new land fascinated her.
“Captain, are we in danger?” Isabelle asked, watching the level of preparation made to moor the ship for the night.
“Not any more than usual,” he answered. “We aren’t in any peril, but we don’t take chances. We’re close to shore and sneaking aboard to steal what we have is tempting to many men both colonist and native alike. Three beautiful white women would be quite a prize.”
Isabelle shivered. “Then I thank you for your precautions.”
Soon, she and Guy were the only ones on the deck. They stood in the stern as they’d done at sea. In the distance, they could see lights winking through the trees.
“Those will be trappers and our friends settling for the night. The larger blazes near the shore are village cooking fires, and if you watch ahead, every now and then you’ll catch a glimpse of some of the farmhouses closer to Trois Rivières, the colony’s second oldest settlement.” He held her in his arms, leaning against his chest. “As we move toward Ville-Marie, we’ll leave Huron villages behind and see Mohawk ones. They prefer longhouses accommodating several families rather than individual abodes. It’ll be good to get home again. There’ll be lots to do,” he whispered in her ear. “After we see to the baggage and cargo and arrange for some of the furnishings to be delivered to the house on Saint Gabriel Street, I’ll divide the animals, so I can leave some with Sophie, and send the others to the estate with my engagés. Finally, I’ll make arrangements for the governor-general’s business.” He paused and looked out over the water. “I’m certain I’m forgetting something,” he teased. “What can it be? Ah yes, now I remember—the wedding, our wedding.” He smiled at her. “Surely that’s the most important thing on my list?” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “Afterwards, mon amour, we’ll travel as the voyageurs do.” He looked around to make sure that they were alone. “We have to go to des Courts’ estate as soon as possible. De Courcelle’s afraid that once word reaches France of La Jeunesse’s fate, someone could send another message, possibly by way of those friends in Albany mentioned in the note. We need to get to him first, and to put Talon’s plan into action, I’ll need your help.”
Isabelle smiled up at him.
“Whatever I can do to help, you only need to ask. I can see you’ll be very busy the next few days, but the wedding should take place before you take me off into the wilderness, or else you will ruin my spotless reputation.” She giggled shyly to take the sting out of her words. “While you attend to the animals, I’ll get ready. Maybe Henri can teach me to load and fire a musket. Pierre must have had some at the house. Tell me about this canoe trip we’ll take. Will I dress in buckskin, too?”
“Women wear tunics. They’re probably far more comfortable than you imagine. You may not want to return to your chemise and petticoats afterward, but having seen you in trousers, there’s a certain appeal to that style of dress, too.” He winked. “Allowing Henri to teach you to fire a musket is an excellent idea. You’re as smart as you are beautiful.” He kissed the back of her neck.
Shivers traveled down her spine, and she nestled more deeply into his arms.
“We’ll travel by canoe and sleep under the stars.” Guy’s voice, a soft breeze against her ear, enchanted her.
“What if it gets cold or it rains?”
“I’m sure I can find a way to keep you warm, my sweet. If it rains, then we will use a small tent, or sleep under the canoe.” He laughed at the shocked look on her face.
“What about the Mohawk and the wild animals?”
“Don’t worry. As much as I’d like to have you all to myself. It’s far too dangerous for the two of us to travel alone. Two of my men, former soldiers, and my best Huron scouts will accompany us. Tomorrow, after we arrive in the settlement, I’ll ask Gerard for that custom-made musket he promised you and hope he can have it ready before we leave.”
Isabelle chuckled.
“I’m not certain I’m ready to learn how to prime and fire a musket, but I’ll do my best. I’m glad you won’t be leaving me behind. I never want you to leave me. Promise me that you won’t,” she begged. “I spent more time away from my husband than I did with him.”
“If I could promise you that, Izzy, I would, but it wouldn’t be a promise I could keep, and I won’t lie to you. Since the regiment has been disbanded, part of my responsibilities as seigneur and former lieutenant is to command the colony’s militia in Ville-Marie. I answer to the governor-general and the intendant. If either one summons me to Quebec, I have to go, but I promise not to stay away any longer than necessary. All the men of the colony must render service to the militia, and though none of us wants it to happen, there may be a time when we’re called upon to fight for our land and our king.”
Isabelle thought of the conspiracy they’d uncovered and turned in Guy’s arms to lay her head against his shoulder.
“We won’t give up this land without a fight,” he murmured, pulling her tightly against him.
“If that’s the best I can hope for, I’ll have to be content. Now, tell me how I can help with Talon’s plan.”
Guy smiled down at her.
“Talon petitioned the king to return to France, and yesterday, among the mail carried by the bride ship, he received the news that the king has granted his request. The new intendant, Claude de Boutroue D’Aubigny, will arrive in six or seven weeks, but Talon won’t sail for France until November on the last ship leaving the colony for the year. He himself will carry the documents to the king and Colbert exonerating Pierre. As well, he’ll provide them with whatever additional information we discover. He’ll petition the king and Colbert to change the edict concerning colonization and exploration to allow journeying to the west in an effort to curb English expansion. To get him the information he needs, we’ll travel by voyageur canoe up the Richelieu River to Fort Saint Jean where we’ll send a request to the Sieur des Courts whose lands lie further south. When des Courts agrees to see us, we’ll go to him. Once we’re there, you’ll carry out the next phase of the plan.”
“What if he refuses to see us?” she asked.
“Then, we go uninvited.” He smiled. “Des Courts won’t refuse to see the governor-general’s envoy and his new bride.”
“I hope you’re right.”
His heart beat steadily against her chest, hers almost in tune with it. The sound of wood creaking startled her.
“What’s that?” She lifted her head off his shoulder.
“What’s what?”
“I heard wood creak as if someone had stepped on a board.”
They listened and the sound came again. Guy chuckled.
“It’s just the ropes and the ships rigging rubbing against the wood. You’re jumping at shadows.”
He pulled her head back to his chest, and she felt the rumbling there as he spoke again.
“I hope you can be as good an actress for me as you were the day you left Caen. Everything depends upon your credibility. You’ll inform des Courts that a woman approached you in Le Havre knowing you were setting sail on L’Aigle Doré and offered you five gold coins to deliver a package for her.”
“I thought you weren’t going to give him the letter and the maps,” she said, frowning.
“It’s not the same letter and the maps have been altered to provide false trails and information. This missive was crafted by Talon’s secretary, Monsieur Patoulet. It informs des Courts of Talon’s departure and instructs him to arrange passage on the same ship in order to befriend the intendant and discover what, if anything, he knows about their plans and report to him as soon as he arrives in France. Before des Courts leaves, he’s to meet with the others and appoint someone to take his place during his absence. Finally, he’s ordered to leave his wife and children in the care of family or friends. When the ship arrives in France, Talon will have him followed to the source of the problem. By then, we’ll know who’s involved here, too.”
“How clever!” she exclaimed. “You’ll be cutting off the head of the snake, and presenting the traitor to the king. If the wife isn’t implicated in her husband’s actions, what’ll happen to her?”
“By the stipulations of her marriage contract, she’ll retain the lands and titles and will be expected to remarry when she’s either a widow or has been given an annulment by the church. Laval is quite prepared to grant her one. If she is involved, then she and the others we identify will be tried in Quebec and sentenced accordingly. Deportation is the primary punishment for that type of crime, most likely to Guyenne. Either way, the colony will be safe once the plot is publicly exposed.”
Isabelle kept her voice low. “I only have to give him the letter? What about the maps?”
“Actually, you’ll give him everything. The items have been placed in a leather tube and sealed—all very official looking. He’ll never suspect a thing.”
He held her close a few more minutes, then leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“Come, we need to get below. The wind has shifted, and it’s time you were in bed.”
He kissed her gently before leading her back to her cabin.
Isabelle entered and found Sophie asleep. As she prepared for bed, she noticed the ship rocked more than it had earlier. Was it because of the smaller vessel? She hadn’t noticed it up on deck with Guy, but she had been interested in other matters. Judging by the gusts coming through their small window, the wind now came strongly from the west. She shivered and closed the porthole. Hopefully, this wasn’t the start of Guy’s storm.
Several hours later, thunder woke Isabelle. The flashing lightning showed Sophie awake as well, sitting on her bunk hugging her knees. Where Isabelle was terrified of nature’s fury, Sophie found it beautiful and fascinating.
“I’d hoped you would sleep through it,” said Sophie. She stood and crossed the cabin to sit on Isabelle’s bed. “A low roll of thunder woke me earlier, and it’s increased steadily, but I’m sure we’re safe.”
Sophie sat beside her and talked of inconsequential things to keep Isabelle’s thoughts from dwelling on the tempest.
“My greatest fear is not finding a suitable husband. We both know I can’t return to France. Can you imagine marrying a man like the one we saw on the dock that first morning or a widower with a small army of children? How would I cope? I’m afraid, as much as I like Gerard, he may have someone else in mind for a bride. Despite what he told Talon, he hasn’t said a word to me, but I won’t give up just yet. He doesn’t realize how rich I am. I never thought to buy a husband, but Sophie, he’s the man I want. He still hasn’t kissed me, but—”
Her ramblings were cut short by an ear-splitting clap of thunder followed by a crash that shook the cabin, and caused the ship to careen wildly. Isabelle screamed.
“Surely, the ship can’t survive this pounding,” she whispered, and wished Guy were with her.
As if in answer to prayer, she heard his voice as he pummelled their door.
“Sophie, Izzy, open the door.”
Sophie rushed to do his bidding. He wore only his britches, his hair wet and wild around his face.
“Quickly, you must leave this cabin. The mizzen mast has fallen, but the rigging is holding it up; otherwise, it would’ve crashed through the roof and crushed you. It doesn’t matter that you’re only in your shifts. It could drop the rest of the way at any moment. Maman and Henri are safe on the other side of the ship. Quickly, follow me. You’ll be safe enough in the forecastle.”
Isabelle, paralysed with fear, couldn’t move.
“Guy, you’ll have to help her,” Sophie said, swiftly wrapping her blanket around her cousin’s trembling shoulders. “She’s petrified of thunderstorms; she has been ever since we were children.”
Tears rolled silently down Isabelle’s cheeks as she shivered. He moved swiftly to the bed lifting Isabelle into his arms.
“It’s alright, my love. I’ve got you.”
Because of the pitching of the ship, walking was difficult, and despite all efforts on his part, Guy frequently rammed the walls of the narrow walkway, trying to shield her from the bumps and bruises when he could. At last, they neared the deserted crew quarters.
Isabelle trembled. No ship could endure this. It was a hundred times worse than anything they had faced at sea.
“Don’t leave me,” she begged. “Please, don’t leave me.”
* * *
Guy opened the door and carried Isabelle into the crew quarters. Sophie followed closely behind him and shut the door, blocking out some of the noise.
“All of the men are needed to ride out the storm and repair the mast. You’ll be safe in here.”
He tried to place Isabelle on a stool in front of the small table across from where Sophie had sat, but she wouldn’t relax her grip on him. Instead, he sat down and held her in his arms, rocking her gently, murmuring soothing words to her, holding her to him as tightly as he could, allowing her to absorb his body heat from his bare chest, feeling her tremble as she fought to hold back her tears.
The only light in the cabin came from the incessant flashes of lightning. Thunder growled, and as the worst of the storm attacked them, the ship was tossed around on the river like a child’s kite across the sky in a strong wind. Slowly, the storm moved away until it was a distant growl. Now, they could hear the sound of orders shouted on deck and scrambling feet. The rain continued to pour, but the wind eased, and the ship’s roll lessened.
“Is it over?” Izzy asked, her voice muffled by his chest, as she maintained her death grip on his shoulders.
“Probably,” he answered. “It’s possible we’re in its center, and it’ll start again, but I doubt it. Do you remember how the storm we had at sea did that?” He felt the movement of her head as she nodded. “Sophie tells me you’re afraid of thunderstorms, mon amour. You never have to be afraid of anything when I’m near.”
She nodded against him. His soft voice calmed her, and he felt her relax.
“You probably don’t want to hear this now, but summer storms, like this one, are quite common. They come up quickly, but go away just as fast. In the house or the barn, with their thick stone walls, you’ll hardly hear them and will be quite safe. If such a storm strikes while we’re in the canoes, we paddle to shore and take cover under the overturned craft.”
He wouldn’t tell her about the fires caused by lightning strikes, or the damage the wind could inflict. There would be time enough for that later when she was calm and could understand the precautions she’d need to take. For now, he would just hold her.
“I believe the storm’s passed,” he said, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes. Thunder could barely be heard in the distance, and the lightning had ended. “You can’t return to your cabin until the mast has been repaired. Let me put you into one of the hammocks.” He indicated two string beds without blankets hanging from the ceiling. “This is where the sailors sleep. You’ll find it quite comfortable. It’s like sleeping in a mother’s arms.”
“Please, don’t leave me,” Isabelle begged again, as he lowered her into the string cradle.
“Just let me help Sophie into bed,” he said, “I’ll be right back.”
Reluctantly, she released him.
“I won’t go until you are asleep,” he promised. “But the captain will need my help on deck.”
Guy moved to lift Sophie into the other hammock, and then returned to stand beside Isabelle, holding her hand, and gently swinging the string bed. The distress caused by the storm slowly passed, and she fell into a peaceful sleep. He bent down, kissed her, and then left the forecastle to help the men tend to the injured ship.
His heart had stopped when he’d heard the crack of breaking wood, and he’d never forget the terror engulfing him when he’d seen the mast start to fall, knowing her cabin lay directly in its path. He’d forever be grateful to God for the thick ropes of the rigging that had interrupted its fall, keeping it just above the stern deck which formed the roof of their cabin. This was the second time he’d almost lost her.
Memories of those harrowing moments mere days ago when she’d hung from the ship’s ladder filled him and he shuddered, thanking God once more for her safety.
He sighed. The storm damage would delay their arrival in Ville-Marie. He would take the governor-general’s message to the acting governor of the settlement and the Sulpician fathers who oversaw it as quickly as he could. The visit to his estate might have to wait.
Assuming there was no other damage to the vessel, they could probably get back underway by early afternoon. He headed up to the main deck to speak to the captain.
* * *
Isabelle awoke from a pleasant dream of being rocked in Guy’s arms to find herself swaying in a string cradle hanging from the ceiling. As soon as her eyes opened, the events of the past night and the vicious storm replayed themselves in her mind. She turned her head to see Sophie struggling to get out of her own hammock. Watching her cousin’s contortions made her laugh.
“They may be comfortable enough,” Sophie said, “but I believe that the adventure lies in getting in and out of them.” She joined in Isabelle’s laughter.
“If I could just reach the floor, I think I could manage it.”
Someone knocked on the door and opened it at the same time.
“Bonjour, mes petites.” Aline chuckled. “Look at you. You’re strung up like vegetables in the storeroom.” She turned to speak to Henri behind her.
“You were right, my dear. They appear to be well and truly caught.”
Henri entered the forecastle, his head bent.
“I apologize for invading your privacy, ladies, but I suspected getting out of the hammocks, especially those strung as high off the floor as these, would pose a problem.” He walked over to the hammocks swinging above his waist level despite the fact they were both occupied and lifted Sophie out and then Isabelle. “The sailors hoist them up during the day to give more walking room in the cabin, and then lower them at night. I see Guy forgot to lower them when he put you in them last night. He must have settled you in like babies.” He laughed. “That would have been quite the sight to see. Never mind, tonight, you’ll sleep in your own cabin again. The crew have safely raised the mizzen mast off the stern deck, and are at work repairing it. It’ll have to be completely replaced when we reach Ville-Marie, but the repairs will be enough to get us there.”
“Guy’s asked me to escort you back to your cabin to dress. We’re going ashore until the repairs are complete,” Aline said.
Now safely on her feet, the storm a distant memory, Isabelle left the forecastle following Aline with Sophie and Henri tagging along behind them. Much to her relief, the gangway was empty.
As soon as they were dressed, she and Sophie went up to the main deck where the others stood. A boat had been lowered and waited for them. Henri went down first followed by Gerard, Aline, Sophie, and Isabelle, skirt hoisted and shoe ribbons retied by Guy, were the last ones to leave the ship. Once they were all seated, Guy and Gerard took the oars and rowed them towards the shore.
Isabelle admired the muscles straining under Guy’s shirt as he plied the oars, and tingled at the thought of running her hands across his naked back. Today was Tuesday; they’d be married in six days. She could hardly wait.
It took less than twenty minutes for the boat to reach the dock. As they debarked, Isabelle could see that Trois Rivières was about the same size as Quebec, but flat, without an escarpment at its back.
“Why is it called Trois Rivières?” asked Henri.
“Look behind you. There are two islands. The Saint Maurice River empties into the Saint Lawrence here, but its delta splits into three streams,” Guy explained. “We must find a tavern and something to eat.” He turned to Isabelle and smiled. “In case you haven’t noticed, my angel, you slept in quite late. It’s almost noon, and I don’t fancy another meal of hardtack and salted meat. I had enough of that at sea.”
Once the boat was secured, they climbed onto the pier and walked away from the mooring. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting meat drew them swiftly along the street. Guy negotiated with a tavern owner, and soon they were seated in a private dining room enjoying a delicious rabbit stew, bread still warm from the oven, homemade wine, and herbal tea.
“I make the wine from dandelions,” the man said. “They’re plentiful here in the spring. This batch was made last year.”
Aline begged his wife for the recipe for the stew, and she was quick to oblige.
“The game is plentiful, and you’ll have no trouble adapting your chicken, beef, and pork recipes to venison, moose, rabbit, or even turkey,” she told her. “The game has a stronger flavor than the domestic meat you’re used to, but it’s very tasty.”
Replete, the small group returned to the ship. Gerard and Sophie appeared to have had an argument. Isabelle would ask Sophie about it as soon as she could.
By the time they boarded the ship, all signs of the previous night’s damage had disappeared and the goods and furniture being delivered here for some of the newlyweds had been unloaded. As soon as the boat was stowed, the captain ordered the ship to make sail. As they had the day before, they soon outdistanced the Huron canoes travelling along the shore.
Tomorrow they would reach Ville-Marie and her new home. It would be months before she would sleep in a bed in her very own house, but tomorrow night, she would rest her head in the house Pierre had built for her. She smiled at Guy and went up onto the stern deck to watch the sunset, hoping there wouldn’t be a storm tonight.