“Do you have anything that might show you are one of thecomte’skin?” Will asked, as practical as Sylvie was positive.
She nodded. “A small jewelry boxMamangave me, with her portrait on the lid. Only two pieces of jewelry remain but I’ll take that with me, a sort of introduction, if you will.”
Bleu was convinced beauty alone would open doors for Brielle. “I imagine you look enough like her there will be no doubt.”
Will took another drink of cider. “I’ll secure passage on the best brig with the most competent ship’s master I can find. If you go as soon as possible, ahead of hurricane season, fair weather should be in your favor.”
“And we’ll be here waiting to welcome you home.” Sylvie kissed the baby’s forehead. “Only this one might be walking by then.”
“I regret that,” Bleu said. “But I’ve regretted being away since your firstborn.”
A telling titter went round the table. His roaming wouldn’t be curtailed till his own children came, Will had once said, if then.
“So, we are going.” Again, Brielle’s eyes sought Bleu’s before returning to her unfinished dessert. “The sooner our passage can be arranged the better.”
Lest I change my mind.Bleu guessed her unspoken thoughts.
There seemed a new melancholy about her that eclipsed the joy of living she’d had since she’d walked away from the tavern. Or was she already missing Titus?
“Tu es sûr, Bleu?” Sylvie asked, no doubt remembering what he’d said to her upon introducing her to Brielle.
This is my future bride though she may not realize it yet.
He met his sister’s eyes.
I spoke too hastily and let my heart rule my head.
Ever since that introduction he’d begun to rein himself in as his vision for Brielle’s future widened beyond being Gabrielle Galant to the wife of aducormarquessorcomte, a member of the French nobility from which she’d come. He was willing to set aside his own desires for her best. God’s best. Perhaps one day, an ocean apart, full of years and memories, they would still think of each other with affection despite their distance and change in direction.
He held his sister’s searching gaze with a stoicism he was far from feeling. “C’est fait.”
It is done.
Suddenly everything in the settlement seemed cast in shades of grey. Or was it only her change of mood? Brielle walked from the settlement’s nursery at the end of day, when all the children had left with their mothers, and craved the peace of the chapel. The recent wedding that had been held there seared her memory. Though she didn’t know the couple well she envied them their newfound happiness.
Entering the empty building, she took a seat on a back pew. Deep gold light streamed through arched windows, reminding her of Philadelphia’s stained glass. Sitting there sedately, she inwardly waged a war between delight and dread. Delight to be taking a trip with Bleu. Dread at being tossed like a cork upon the ocean. Fear of what awaited her once they made landfall—ifthey did. With Bleu by her side she’d double the wonders of experiencing France. And be better able to bear the brunt of her grandfather’s rejection if it came to that.
A scrap of Psalm came to mind unbidden.
Thou rulest the raging of the sea: when the waves thereof arise, thou stillest them.
The sudden creak of a door turned her head. She looked over her shoulder to see Sabine Broussard enter—like a fox in a henhouse. An unkind comparison, perhaps. Still, Brielle felt an urge to flee.
Sabine came to a stop at the end of the pew where she sat. “I hear you’re leaving.”
Who had told her? Word traveled fast in the settlement, both good and bad. “Tomorrow we travel to York Town.”
“And Bleu will escort you, something he refused to do for me.” A resigned sort of bitterness threaded her tone. “Acadie is closer yet he chooses to go a far greater distance instead.”
“I cannot answer for Bleu,” Brielle told her quietly, wishing he were here to speak for himself.
“Bleu is neither easily swayed nor led. No doubt this journey to France is his idea.” She smoothed a ribbon on her skirt. “Nadine’s need makes it more convenient for all concerned.”
“The opportunity might not come again.” Brielle struck a conciliatory tone. “I’ve prayed about it and trust all will be well.”
“You have family in France, so I’ve heard. Important people, even aristocratic.” Sabine seemed to regard her with less hauteur than before. “Given that, you don’t belong here. Perhaps Bleu has finally realized it, too. Though you are willing to work and live amongst us you are and forever will be an outsider. The Rivanna settlement seems beneath you.”
Brielle looked to her unladylike hands. “Any hard, honest work well done is honorable no matter one’s station.”
