Within the confines of Will’s study adjoining the dining room, Bleu sat near an open window, his whole being pulled to the porch. He could hear the soft hum of Sylvie’s and Brielle’s voices and wondered what they talked about. His brother-in-law lit a pipe and he did the same, the smoky fragrance of Tidewater tobacco suffusing the warm air. The chamber’s paneled walls were a dusky blue, a painting of Acadie’sBaie Françaiseabove the fireless hearth’s mantel. It returned him to the four fireplaces lacking mantels beyond the orchard.
“Now is the time to finish my house,” Bleu said, exhaling a purl of smoke.
Will stared at him. “Why?”
Bleu chuckled. His brother-in-law was forthright, often carrying conversations on a single syllable. “I am no longer the Resistance fighter of Acadie. I am getting restless… to remain in one place.”
Will’s brows rose, his stoicism shifting to surprise. “Sylvie’s prayers are finally being answered in that regard then. You ken how I feel about the matter, to say nothing of the children. Does this have to do with the young woman on the porch?”
Leaning forward, Bleu closed the window in answer.
Will’s amusement was plain. “So, after all these years, with countless settlement women eyeing you and vying for you, you’ve settled on someone else entirely.”
“Do you believe in coincidence?”
“Nay. Divine instances, rather.”
“This is one of them.”
Bleu still pondered the events that led him to theRose and Crownwith a sort of bafflement. He recounted them now to Will as succinctly as he could. In all his comings and goings, he had never passed that way though he’d crossed paths with hunters and trappers who often did. And he’d happened by on the very Sabbath of the Indian raid. Only Brielle and Titus had stayed standing, another miracle.
“You could have buried the dead, seen the living safely settled, then ridden away,” Will remarked.
“That was my first thought. But in the end, it seemed callous to leave a frightened boy and young woman to fend for themselves.” Brielle’s terrified gaze—her collapse in the dusty road—still wrenched him. “I understand what it’s like to have everything torn away from you at once.”
Will nodded, his gaze traveling to the closed window again. “You’re in love with her.”
Sabine had said the same but with far more heat. Remembering, Bleu wanted to forget their fraught exchange. “Be that as it may,MademoiselleFarrow is far removed from a Métis like me.”
“How so?”
“She has family in Europe. I keep wondering if she shouldn’t take the next ship to England or France instead of staying here on the Rivanna.”
“That would be for her to decide, right?”
Bleu shifted in his chair, already seeing her there, bedecked in silks and laces, waited on instead of cast in the role of servant, a world away from the humble life she’d known here.
Will’s intent gaze held his for one dissecting moment. “Why not ask her to wed you instead?”
The honest words went to his head like fine brandy. But he wouldn’t allow himself to entertain the thought overlong.
“As I told Sylvie, she feels indebted to me which is not the best foundation for a lifelong commitment. I would have… more.”
“Once I thought your sister wed me out of desperation because she had nowhere else to go. A ploy of the enemy of our souls, mayhap, to plant doubt, suspicion, and destroy any good the Almighty means to give us.”
True. Still… “I would wait awhile. Finish the house. Determine how she feels about being here and moving forward.”
“As for the house, all you lack are Crown glass windows, a finished staircase, mantels and paint. And a decent front porch and some furnishings. As for Miss Farrow, you might consider assigning Noir to guard her from the onslaught of suitors sure to ensue.”
Will’s humor didn’t relieve him.
“She istrèsbeau,oui.” Bleu expelled another pent-up breath. “On the other hand, perhaps other suitors would help her determine who and what she wants in future.”
Yet the very thought set him on edge. He’d rather endure the rigors of returning to Canada than watch any courtship other than their own play out along the Rivanna. The possibility of losing her was excruciating and she wasn’t even his. Was that not love?
And the adoration he’d read in her own eyes…
Was that simply because she saw him as her earthly savior?
