Chapter Twenty-Four
The rooster’s cock-a-doodle-doo, a sound she hadn’t heard in months, woke Isabelle. She got out of bed, dressed in one of her lighter gowns, choosing not to wear her stays or a crinoline, and went downstairs. Aline was at work in the yard, a huge cauldron of water heating on an open fire.
“Bon matin, Tante Aline. You must’ve been up early to get so much done so quickly. Isn’t it a glorious day? How can I help?”
“You can gather the small clothes and anything else that needs to be washed. Henri has strung a line for me. The breeze and the sun will dry things beautifully today. You can feed the hens and collect the eggs if you like. Sophie is milking Gertrude and Amalie. There’s biscuits and jam in the kitchen when you finish.”
“Gertrude and Amalie?” Isabelle asked, frowning.
“Yes.” Aline chuckled. “Sophie named them. She claims it would be rude to milk the poor things without a proper introduction. They may not give much milk for the first few days, but once they settle into a routine, they’ll supply all we need and more. Feel free to name the chickens if you can tell them apart, but she’s chosen Ti-Coq for the rooster. I’m sure she’ll get around to naming the pigs and the goats soon enough. I think the carriage horses already have names.”
Isabelle laughed.
“I’m sure they do. Leave it to Sophie. We had a toy barn with wooden animals as children. Those are the names Sophie gave them. As I recall, the pigs were Cochon and Cochonette. I’m glad she’s happier here now. Meeting Captain Leclerc seems to have been good for her. If Murielle ever makes it here, her world will be complete.”
As would hers. She said a small prayer, hoping that if their nanny did choose to come to the new world she would have a better crossing than the bride ship that had arrived in Quebec.
“I’ll get the wash, collect the eggs, and then break my fast. Is Guy up?”
“He left for the fort just after dawn. He wanted to get his things and those belonging to Pierre. They should be delivered by midday or soon after. It’s better to do it now, n’est-ce-pas?”
Aline looked at her, her kind eyes filled with sympathy.
“I loved Pierre, Tante Aline, but that part of my life is gone. He’ll always have a place in my heart. Guy will be my husband soon, and I’ll be a good wife. I promise.”
“Of that I’ve no doubt, but do you love my son?”
“More than anything.” Isabelle turned and left the room.
The rest of the morning was spent getting the summer kitchen ready. At Marcel’s suggestion, they decided to leave both openings to the fireplace and oven functional so that cooking could be done indoors in poor weather.
Guy had yet to return although the footlockers waited by the door to be examined.
She and Sophie had just finished a light lunch and settled down to embroider a tablecloth when Tante Aline entered the room, a scowl on her face. She carried a freshly folded nightgown. Things had dried quickly in the morning sun.
“Monsieur Giroux is here to see you, Izzy. Were you expecting him?”
“No, I wasn’t.” She put down her needlework and stood. “Guy mentioned he wanted to see him this morning. He wants me to have my musket before we go on our canoe excursion.”
“You go and speak to him, Izzy. I’m not ready to do so yet,” Sophie said.
Isabelle nodded. “I’ll be back.”
She followed Aline out into the back yard. Gerard stood next to Henri. The man didn’t look happy and was relieved to see his wife approach. Aline walked over to her husband and stood by his side.
“Bonjour, Gerard,” Isabelle said, trying to suppress her new disliking for the man. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
He laughed, but the sound of it wasn’t pleasing.
“Neither did I, mademoiselle. I didn’t want to leave my family again today, but business can’t wait,” he said. “His lordship came to see me and has offered to pay me handsomely to teach you how to fire your weapon. He insisted it be done as soon as possible. Being in France severely depleted my coffers, and a job is a job. The children must eat. Since the weather’s good, I thought I would take this opportunity to give you your first lesson. If it’s not convenient, I can come back tomorrow.”
Isabelle thought of the three young children. She would make sure Guy paid him well for their sake, not his. Perhaps tomorrow, she could help Aline make sugar cookies for them, too.
“Very well,” she said, turning toward the house. “I’ll just get my bonnet and meet you out front.”
“I don’t like the idea of you going off with him alone,” Sophie said, following her up to her room.
“I thought you said he behaved like a gentleman.”
“He did, but he kept his family a secret. He may as well have lied about them. He wanted information from me, and now that I think about it, he avoided talking about himself even when I asked a direct question. What if he works for the chevalier? What if he’s part of the conspiracy?”
Isabelle shook her head and chuckled.
“Just because you don’t like the man anymore is no excuse to accuse him of wrongdoing. I’m sure Guy had him checked out. There’s no way he would’ve sent him to me otherwise. But you’ve reminded me of something.”
She went to her birthday chest and removed Pierre’s papers.
“I’ll put these in Guy’s room so he can look at them later. I forgot all about them last night. I’m sure Monsieur Giroux and I will be back by late afternoon. Claire said there are berries in the fields ready for picking. When I return and she’s finished helping Aline with the wash, if Henri is willing to come with us, she can show us where they grow. Tante Aline would love to make fresh strawberry jam.”
“Maybe.” Sophie lowered her voice. “Are you wearing your ... you know?” she asked.
Isabelle nodded. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I won’t need it. I’ll only be gone a few hours.”
While she wasn’t looking forward to spending a minute let alone an hour in Gerard’s company, she went out into the bright sunshine and found him standing next to a wagon. She frowned.
“I thought your shop was on the Rue Saint Paul. I can certainly walk that far.”
“It is,” he answered smoothly. “But we can’t very well fire a weapon with my children around. We have to go outside the town walls to do that. While we might be able to walk to a decent practice area, since I’ve got several muskets, powder, and shot with me, it would be difficult.” He indicated the bundle wrapped in canvas on the floor of the open wagon. “It’s warm today. With the heat, this is easier.”
Isabelle grimaced. He was right. She couldn’t walk far in this humidity.
“I hope this weather doesn’t mean a storm like we had aboard L’Érable. Guy said they would be less traumatic in the house, but…” She shrugged.
Gerard mumbled an answer before helping her onto the seat of the wagon. He climbed up next to her and shook the reins. The large black horse walked away from the house, turned west and then south.
Isabelle admired the part of the town she hadn’t visited earlier. These roads, with smaller log homes along them, were narrower and almost deserted compared to those they had travelled previously. Soon they came to a little used gate in the southwest corner of the town that led outside the wall to the commons.
Cows and sheep grazed close to the perimeter fence. In the distance, she could see the cultivated fields of the centimes, and every now and then, she caught a glimpse of the river through the trees.
The breeze stirring the heat, scenery pleasant, and the man beside her quiet, Isabelle was enjoying her adventure outside the palisade until clouds began to gather on the horizon. The road was much rougher now, and few animals could be seen in the fields.
“Is it much farther?” she asked, looking around for signs of a farm house. Glancing over her shoulder she was surprised when she couldn’t see the town walls in the distance. Had they really traveled that far?
“No,” he replied. “We’re almost there.”
Isabelle frowned, the hair on the back of her neck rose. Something didn’t feel right and Sophie’s concerns came back to her.
Suddenly, he pulled up in front of a copse of trees.
“We’re here.”
She looked around. They appeared to be in the middle of nowhere.
“Don’t you think we’ve gone too far? Guy mentioned there’s been trouble with the renegades.”
“No; this is a good place. It’s isolated; we won’t be disturbed here.”
His choice of words did nothing to soothe her nerves. Even though she didn’t know how to use it, she was grateful for her knife.
A shrill whistle from Monsieur Giroux startled her, and she gasped.
Six men dressed differently from any of the Indiens she’d seen previously, emerged from the trees. They wore sleeveless shirts, leggings with a long piece of buckskin hanging from a belt covering their loins, and moccasins. Their arms and faces were elaborately tattooed with varying patterns made up of lines and circles. Both sides of their heads were shaved, leaving a ridge of close-cropped hair on their crowns from which protruded dark feathers. They were fierce looking, and Isabelle kept her gaze glued to the strangers.
Monsieur Giroux jumped down from the wagon and moved around to the other side to help her disembark. Isabelle shrank into the seat.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “These men are friends. Come.”
He held out his hand, and hesitantly, Isabelle took it. Guy had said there were friendly natives in the area. Maybe these were some of the men he knew, but why were they here now?
Monsieur Giroux led her over to the men who stared intently at her, surrounding her. One reached for her bonnet, yanked it off her head, and grabbed a handful of her hair. It shone red in the sunlight.
Isabelle yelped.
“Kanenna’ke:ne” the man said loudly to his friends, who stared at her.
She swallowed and leaned closer to the man who’d brought her here.
“He says your hair looks like living fire,” Monsieur Giroux said. “Mohawk is a colorful language you know.”
“Mohawk!” she gasped. Guy had mentioned friendly Mohawk who’d signed a treaty, but these men didn’t look friendly.
He indicated the small bundle in the back of the wagon. A man moved forward, asked something she couldn’t understand, but the gunsmith shook his head. The man picked up the bundle and handed it to one of the other braves who disappeared through the trees with it.
“Greedy bastard would’ve taken them both,” he mumbled.
“You said those were muskets,” Isabelle cried. “You’re giving muskets to the natives? Are they the renegades, the enemies?” The sheer horror of it paralysed her.
He chuckled. “Not giving, my dear Isabelle. I’ve been well paid for the work, but these men are not my enemies, not my enemies at all. Maybe soon, they won’t be your enemies either.”
She gasped at the sound of her name.
He laughed.
“Yes, I know who you are; I’ve been certain of it ever since Saint Pierre when Sophie identified my step-sister, Irene Desnoyers, as Isabelle de Caen. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize the cross I gave her? I wondered why Sophie would be so quick to identify another woman as her sister if it wasn’t to protect the real one. It seemed odd to me when you showed up after the ship had sailed—I saw the manifest, there was no Isidore Leroux on it. Mind you, that was a clever disguise. You didn’t look like the woman the chevalier had been searching for, but as your hair and your skin lightened, I began to wonder. My suspicions increased when I realized you could read and write. Few women can, especially not a poor farmer’s daughter. I questioned Sophie, but she wasn’t as forthcoming with information as I’d hoped, but that night of the storm before we got to Saint Pierre, I heard every word of your discussion with Guy. It forced me to change my plans.”
“You’re the one who searched his cabin. Why are you doing this?”
“For money. Why else? I was looking for documents linking him to Pierre Gaudin. As you probably realized, our ship and not La Jeunesse was the target of the attack. I was to leave the ship when it began. Do you know how frustrating it was for me to fix those cannons after I’d spent weeks sabotaging them?”
“But why? That ship is needed to protect Guyenne. Why hamper France’s plans for the safety of her colonies?” Isabelle grasped at straws to keep him talking. From what he’d said, he didn’t seem to realize she had been Pierre’s wife, not Sophie.
“I work for a cabal within the French West India Company, one that’s quite frustrated with the king’s insistence on colonization rather than exploration. Sinking that warship would’ve increased hostilities between France and Spain. My employers would’ve urged the king to leave the Dutch alone and go after the wealth of South America, not bothering with seeding colonies that suck profits dry. I’m surprised you and Guy didn’t figure that out while you snuggled on deck, discussing my business instead of yours. Tell me, did you let him make love to you? I hope you did, because it will never happen now.”
Terror filled her heart. Who was this man they’d befriended? Was he going to kill her? She looked over at the warriors. Were they?
He continued chatting about what his group wanted as if he had all the time in the world. The longer he talked, the better she liked it. Guy would be home soon and realize she was missing. He would come and find her. She shook her head. The sky was darker now, and the air had cooled.
“I was supposed to sail on La Jeunesse instead of Irene,” he continued, “but at the last minute, my employers sent me to discover what Sophie Gaudier knew of her husband’s affairs, and once I got that information, I was to dispose of her as I did the lieutenant. We needed to know how much he’d told his wife.”
The truth dawned on her. “You killed Pierre!”
“I did. It’s amazingly easy to run a man through when he doesn’t even suspect he’s in danger. Sadly, he wouldn’t speak before he died, other than muttering your name and your father’s—didn’t even mention his poor wife. Had you lain with him? Cheated with him on your own sister? Shame on you. Unfortunately, when I tried to find out what your father knew, he too clammed up. So, when I realized his inquiries might cause problems, I supplied the poison to dispatch your father, too. It was easy to dress as a physician and supply a second dose of the medication. Poor Solange had no idea she was murdering her husband with each drop she added to his tisane. I think she actually cared for him in her own cold way.”
Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks.
“Why? Why would you do such a thing? My father never hurt you.”
“Ah, but he did, my dear Isabelle, he did. When we accused your brother-in-law of treason after he conveniently gave us all the evidence we needed, your father persuaded Louis to send Pierre back here. We couldn’t allow that. Had your father kept his mouth shut, Pierre would still be alive—rotting in a cell in the bastille it’s true—but your father would still be Count de Caen.”
Tears pooled in Isabelle’s eyes.
“I don’t understand. Why would the company want to start a war and kill innocent women and children?”
“Colonization is not in the best interest of my employers, but Colbert and the king refuse to listen. Colonists spoil the land; they cut down trees, destroy animal habitats, and soon the animals whose furs bring the best prices leave the area. The farther our men have to travel to trap, the lower our profits. It’s my duty to protect the company’s interests and destroy those who’d end our profitable enterprise. For this reason, my employers and those who support them have chosen to take matters into their own hands. Thanks to your interference, we have to step up our plan—inconvenient, but not impossible.”
Isabelle’s eyes moved from him to the six men watching their discussion. They didn’t seem to understand what was being said.
“On the ship, it had been my intention to get close to your sister, gain her trust which I did, discover what I needed to know, strangle her, and toss her body and belongings into the sea, but circumstances foiled my plans. The guard at the forecastle entrance was the first problem, and then there were too many of them on duty each night after that. I assumed somehow the captain heard of the attack on La Jeunesse. I hadn’t realized we were so far from the shipping lane until we got to Saint Pierre. Heads will roll when my employers learn what that idiot did. I’ll avenge my step-sister’s death, have no fear. By the time I realized Sophie knew nothing, I also discovered you and Guy knew way too much.”
“You would’ve killed Sophie just like that?” She clenched her fists, so frightened and angry she didn’t know which emotion to feel first. “You’re a monster.”
He laughed at her outrage.
“Believe me, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it had I been able to get her alone and discover what I needed to know. But now, I’ll profit from you as well, and kill two birds with one stone. Someone else will dispose of Madame Gaudier when the time is right. While everyone was searching the ship for a stowaway, I cozied up to the chevalier to learn what I could. I offered to watch for the missing woman in case she turned up in the colonies.” He shook his head in mock sadness. “Poor Isabelle. Your lover was fickle, you know, but very specific. ‘If you find the bitch, she’ll have ruined everything. Give her to the savages. If I don’t find her in France within a fortnight, then I have no use for her at all. I’ll find another way to get what I want,’ and I intend to do just that.”
“Is the chevalier part of your group?” she asked. If she’d misjudged her step-mother, she might’ve been wrong about him, too.
He shook his head and started to walk closer to the six warriors once more, pulling her after him.
“The Chevalier d’Angrignon has shares in the company, but he’s Louis’s man, supporting the king in all he does. He’s definitely after something, but I don’t know what it is and neither do my employers. His support of the treason charges against Gaudin helped us, and he was certainly quick to claim your hand when you were free, but now that you’re of no use to him, you’re of no use to me. Perhaps, when I return to France, I’ll find him and collect my payment for doing as he asked.” He laughed.
Isabelle shivered. The man had to be insane. Who else could carry out such a diabolic plan?
“Why are you telling me all of this? Henri, Aline and Sophie know I went with you. Guy will come looking for me, and if you’ve hurt me in any way, he’ll kill you. If he doesn’t, I will tell him what you told me and testify before the lit de justice. You’ll hang for murder.”
Gerard laughed, the crazed evil sound chilling her.
“I’m counting on your lover coming for you, petite, but he’ll be looking in the wrong place. Did you know there was a Mohawk raid north of the settlement today? They attacked us, knocked me out, and took you. I’m prepared to suffer a little discomfort to maintain my deception. I’ll lament about how I tried to save you and was injured in the process. I’ll be a hero. When he goes on his little mission for de Courcelle, my men will finish him off and our plan can begin.”
On the verge of panic, Isabelle grasped at straws.
“What about your wife and children? If Ville-Marie is attacked, they’ll be killed, too. Don’t you care what happens to them?”
“My wife and children will be fine. Lucille should have been at her sister Rachelle’s place near Tadoussac, not in Ville-Marie when I arrived. When I sent word she was to go to her sister’s, the stupid bitch chose the wrong one. Why would she ever think it would be fine to stay less than six hours away? She felt my displeasure. I’ll take her away tomorrow on L’Érable which sails back to Quebec. We’ll book passage to France as soon as I finish my assignment here.”
Isabelle cringed. She felt sorry for Madame Giroux who no doubt had been struck by her husband. With everything she’d learned about the monster, the fact he was a wife-beater shouldn’t come as a surprise.
“Now, my dear, enough chitchat; it’s time for you to meet your new friends. This is the chief of this particular little band of Mohawks. He’s actually allied with the French which makes this all the sweeter. When the fighting starts, it will be glorious. I almost wish I could stay to watch. I hope you’ll be happy together.”
Akhilesh? She’d heard that name before.
Panic ripped through her. “For the love of God, I beg you, don’t do this.”
“I am sick and tired of women trying to tell me what I can and cannot do,” he growled, grabbing her and shoving her forward.
She stumbled and fell. Pulling her up roughly, he dragged her across the grass and threw her at the Mohawk’s feet. Isabelle screamed and kicked at him. Gerard struck her across the face. She fell back, striking her head against a rock. The world went black.
* * *
Guy paced in the garden waiting to be admitted to Dupuis’s office. He’d been cooling his heels for several hours now while the governor and two of the Sulpicians held court. Apparently, one farmer was accused of stealing a calf from another before it could be branded. Guy wanted to leave to be with Isabelle, to show her the city as he had Quebec, and to walk with her hand in hand down to the church to arrange their wedding. Perhaps, like yesterday, he should come back tomorrow, but his task was too important to set aside for another day.
“Guy, welcome back, my friend. I’m sorry we kept you waiting so long, but sometimes, the truth of a matter’s hard to find. How was France?” Dupuis asked, coming out of his office.
“Eventful, Zacharie. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but it’s for your ears and those of the good fathers alone.”
“This sounds ominous. Come into my office. Jules,” he called to his secretary. “Bring wine, and then, don’t disturb us.”
Guy followed the acting governor and the priests into the office and closed the door. They made small talk waiting for the requested wine. Once it had been delivered and poured, Guy proceeded to fill them in on the charges of treason, the trial, and Pierre’s death. He explained about La Jeunesse and the message and maps they’d intercepted, again keeping Isabelle’s identity out of it. Finally, he elaborated on Talon’s plan.
“I don’t know if your plan will work,” said the governor, shaking his head. “There was a Mohawk raid in the area of Fort Sainte Jean just two weeks ago. We’ve had no word from des Courts’s estate, but he may be in Trois Rivières or Quebec by now. If he’s in league with these renegades and traitors, he could’ve gone to Albany already.”
“It’s possible someone from another ship got a message to him. If we’ve lost des Courts, then the trail’s gone cold,” Guy said. “God help us.”
A loud knock sounded and the governor frowned.
“I told him not to disturb us. For him to disobey my orders, something serious must have happened.”
“Entrez,” Dupuis called.
“Forgive me, your grace, but there’s been an attack just outside the northeast walls of the settlement. A wagon was ransacked, the horse stolen, and the man left for dead. They’ve taken him to the hospital.”
“Bring my carriage. Guy, you’ll come with us?”
“Yes, sir. If this is connected to our previous discussion, then God help us. None of the renegades have dared attack this close to the settlement since ‘66.”
They hurried to the carriage and the driver urged the horses to move as quickly as they could towards the Hôtel Dieu on Rue Saint Urbain. Jeanne Mance, founder of the hospital, met them at the door.
“The man’s in serious condition. A tomahawk cleaved his skull. It’s amazing he’s still alive. I pulled three Mohawk arrows out of his back—one of his lungs was damaged, too. He was taken by surprise. I dressed his gashes myself, and now he’s asleep. He’s lost a lot of blood. I doubt very much he’ll survive. Come.”
The two men followed her down the aisle that ran between the rows of cots until they arrived at the end.
“I know this man,” the governor said, frowning deeply. “I’ve seen him around the settlement but not recently.”
“I know him,” Guy exclaimed, his breath catching in his throat. “This is Monsieur Gerard Giroux, a gunsmith with a shop on Rue Saint Paul. He traveled from France with us aboard L’Aigle Doré.”
At the sound of voices, the patient stirred, and Guy bent down to talk to him.
“Gerard, can you hear me?” he asked. “Who did this to you?”
The man opened his eyes and blinked, but there was no recognition there. Without uttering a sound, he closed them again. His breath was raspy, and Guy shuddered. Than God Isabelle hadn’t been with him.
“I’m sorry. He may never speak. I doubt he even recognized you. We should let him sleep,” Jeanne said.
Guy stared at the man in the bed and turned to follow the governor.
“I met his wife at the docks yesterday morning.”
“A sad state of affairs,” he said. “We’ll wait to speak with Jeanne Mance. I was surprised to see her here as she rarely nurses these days.”
They didn’t have to wait long.
“Gentlemen, I’m glad you waited. Sometimes, when a man receives a severe blow to the head or undergoes a traumatic experience, he suffers memory loss. That wound cracked his skull; he should have died. Even if he survives, I doubt he’ll ever be the same. Whoever hit him certainly didn’t expect him to live.”
“That will be hard on his wife and family,” Guy added.
“God works in mysterious ways, my lord. Monsieur Giroux wasn’t the best of husbands. I’ve treated his wife for injuries I don’t believe were accidental, but what can be done when a woman’s married to a beast? She was here several times last winter; her two oldest boys had very serious coughs, and alone as she was, with the new baby, she couldn’t cope. He barely left her enough money for food and wood. The women of the settlement gave her what help they could.” She shook her head and sadness filled her eyes. “She’s a fine woman, who comes from a good, but impoverished family. I’ve sent word to her that her husband’s here. The girl will remain with the children. Right now, he needs to sleep. I hope he survives to tell you what happened, but if he dies, it will be a blessing for her.”