Titus eyed her curiously. “Can you swim?”
“I cannot but perhaps Bleu can teach me, too.” The idea of being reduced to smallclothes in the middle of the river suddenly held great appeal. “I’ve not even ferried across the Rivanna yet.”
“I have.” His small chest swelled with pride. “Jean-Marc, the ferryman, said he might take me on as his right hand.”
Suddenly Titus seemed far older than his eight years. So many interests and plans he had while she bounced from one task to the next, never sure of herself or what she did, including the next step.
“I’m glad you’re happy here and of help.” She draped an arm about his shoulders and hugged him close. “Our old life overmountain seems like it never was.”
They sat in the shadows in companionable quiet as the fiddle music showed signs of waning, a few people departing as the full moon rose in a cloudless sky.
Coming up behind them unawares, Bleu took a seat on the bench, Titus between them. “Ready to return to the cottage?”
Brielle met Bleu’s eyes briefly, not minding a whit that Titus was already on his feet, his mind clearly on the morrow and a good night’s sleep. She got to her feet as Bleu, without a lantern, simply led them on the path he’d walked so many times before.
When they reached the cottage, they said goodnight. Titus disappeared inside, and she followed only to reappear on theporch and watch Bleu climb the hill to his house. Was he sleeping upstairs there? Somehow that seemed to suggest his staying in Virginia, assuaging her unsettled heart. Only his handsome house deserved a name.
What would it be?
21
Late July brought a lushness to the settlement’s gardens that defied description. In the orchard, ripe peaches and cherries hung heavy on the trees while apples of all varieties promised a bountiful autumn harvest. Albemarle Pippins and Fameuses were Sylvie’s pride. Already the settlement was abuzz, anticipating the abundant cider to come. If the Acadians had a favorite season, it had to be autumn.
Would Bleu still be here then?
Soon after thefêtecame a wedding. The riverside chapel nearly burst with Acadians as the couple tied the knot, turning Brielle’s thoughts to her own heart. But Bleu seemed to have taken another step back. Perhaps it was because he was busy in the fields now, away from the heart of the settlement. The tobacco harvest had begun, every hand needed. Even Will had set aside his surveying for the time being.
“Should I be in the fields?” Brielle asked Sylvie, never wanting to shirk work.
“You’re most needed here in the nursery, especially with so many in the fields.” Sylvie smiled her reassurance as children gathered around them, a flaxen-haired baby in Brielle’s lap, a fat fist in his mouth. “You’ve also helped fill the hole Henrietta left when she moved with her brother, Nolan, and his Acadian wife last winter.”
“Your adopted children, the two orphans? Bleu mentioned how much you miss them.”
“They lived on the Rivanna since the settlement’s founding. But then Nolan came of age and apprenticed to an Alexandria silversmith Will knows. They visit when they can—and we go visit them in turn.”
“I’ve heard of Alexandria. I’d like to see another town besides Philadelphia though I have no desire to live in a place teeming with people,” Brielle told her. “The Rivanna River seems idyllic. I don’t want to be anywhere else on earth.”
“I felt the same when I left Williamsburg. I’d been working in a bookbindery before becoming a French tutor and seamstress at the Governor’s Palace. Once I saw Orchard Rest I never wanted to leave it though life here, like everywhere, has its flaws.”
Flaws? So far she’d found none or was her every perception colored by Bleu?
“I remember the stench of Philadelphia and the reek of tar and fish and saltwater.” Brielle wiped the baby’s damp chin with her apron hem. “And all the refuse in narrow alleys and the huge market on High Street. Summers were stifling and winters harsh with the Atlantic winds.”
“Virginia’s heat and insects drive me half mad sometimes and the dreary damp in winter hurts my bones, but spring and fall are an ongoing pleasure and I’d rather raise a family here than anywhere else. Every season has its own particular beauty.”
“I hope to experience them all.”
“Have you ever considered traveling to meet your relatives?”
Brielle looked at her. Had she been talking to Bleu?
“I’ve no funds to do so… and less courage. My father’s family I know little about other than they once resided in the West Midlands. My French relations are also strangers.” Truly, to riskan ocean and the unknown, given her kinfolk might reject her outright or think her an imposter, seemed especially rash. “I’m content right here.”
Contentpaled with what she felt. Despite any uncertainty about the future, she finally had her freedom yet far more. How was it possible to describe her certainty she’d come home? Come home to both a person and a place, even if that person didn’t realize it yet?
Her heart felt so full it might burst. “I want to be of help in any way I can to express my gratitude.”
“I’ll welcome your help once the baby arrives,” Sylvie looked to her own waist, or the lack of one. “And I’m wondering if these aren’t twins as I’m soénorme. After several children, I am somewhat expert, though childbirth is fraught with uncertainty every time.”
