Philadelphia’s shimmering harbor returned in a frightening rush, ships’ masts dense as a forest. “I’ve never been on board a ship, never crossed anything but a river. Hardly an ocean.”
“Nor have I.”
“You weren’t one of the Acadians expelled by boat.”
“I eluded the English by going further inland with the Mi’qmak instead. Then, when I realized the British had come to stay and fighting further was useless, I traveled south on foot and horseback to the colonies.”
“I’m not sure I can weather an ocean voyage.” She swallowed, terrified at the thought. “Ships sink—there are storms—seasickness. Drownings. Pirates and enemy warships.”
“We’ll weather it together.”
“But I have not saidoui.”
Again, that amused glint in his eyes. “You have not saidnoneither.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If it helps, there’s a young woman from the settlement—Nadine Durand—who has wanted to see family in France for some time.”
“She would be my traveling companion, you mean. When I can’t be with you.”
“It benefits you both. I am simply your escort.”
Simply.There was nothing simple about this. She felt dizzy even considering such an impromptu plan. “But I have no funds.”
“I have enough for us all, even Mademoiselle Durand, though Will has arranged to pay her way there and back, if she chooses.”
Such benevolence continued to be a marvel to her after all the grasping, greedy men at theRose and Crown.“And once again, if we do go, I am indebted to you.”
“Non, Brielle. I owe you.”
Without further explanation, he began leading her back down the riverbank to where their discarded shoes and stockings waited, his firm hand holding hers once again as the shallow water frothed around their bare legs.
“Time to meet my namesake,” he said, looking toward Orchard Rest.
“And have supper,” she reminded him though she doubted she’d eat a bite after what he’d just told her.
23
The next Sabbath, Bleu looked at Brielle across Orchard Rest’s table as supper ended and the children excused themselves to do their evening chores. His namesake rested in a basket near Sylvie, fast asleep through the meal but now beginning to fuss.
Brielle set her fork aside and he saw she’d not finished her blackberry tart. She gave him a half-smile, his co-conspirator for the moment. Was she nervous about making their announcement?
Now, in the sudden silence, they’d learn his family’s reaction to their news.
Clearing her throat, Brielle said, “Though I’m perfectly happy here, I’ve decided to accept Bleu’s offer to go to France. Having Nadine Durand with us makes the decision easier.”
The sudden silence was blessedly brief.
“Our prayers go with you, then.” Sylvie reached for the baby, bringing him to her shoulder. If she had any qualms she didn’t show it. “In fact, I haven’t stopped praying about this since Bleu broached the subject.”
Will leaned back in his chair at the head of the table. “I support you fully though I’ll warn you the journey, even in the best of conditions, won’t be easy but arduous.”
“We know the passage will likely be rough.” A dozen different scenarios played through Bleu’s thoughts all over again. “Noneof us have been to France and the language is not my French-Acadian patois. I’ve seen Quebec and Boston and other large cities but Nantes and Paris are another world entirely.”
Their eyes met again, hers tender and trusting. Was that trust misplaced? Would she ever regard him with anything other than tenderness? If so, he couldn’t bear it. He wanted nothing to hinder this bold and undeniably hazardous plan.
“Aside from the dangers of sea travel, my French family might not want to meet me.” Brielle looked from Sylvie to Will. “I have dusty memories of my mother telling me how thecomteforbade her to marry my father so this may not be the happy reunion I wish for, if he still lives.”
A complicated journey, even a courageous one. His chest suddenly felt like a clenched fist. He didn’t want to disappoint her or have her hurt. He wanted this to be a homecoming, a door to a future she was denied when her parents died and she was sent into servitude.
“At least you’ll soon rest in the fact you tried to reunite with your family, no matter what awaits,” Sylvie said. “The Loire Valley isn’t calledthe garden of Francefor naught.”
