“All that is behind you now.” Sabine eyed her shrewdly. “Take care in future and hide your calluses with gloves. Never speak of your former life and what you were reduced to. The French won’t care for your colonial ways, especially since they’ve just lost a terrible war to England, their arch-enemy.”
Brielle went still. In the tumult of the past few months she’d only considered France’s defeat in a hazy, secondhand way. Perhaps this was not the time to be crossing an ocean in light of that though she knew Bleu had considered it, surely, as their plans moved forward, inch by foolhardy inch. Is that how Sabine saw it?
“Nor will they welcome a Métis who they will no doubt look upon assauvage.”
Brielle nearly flinched. Their conversation was circling, continually coming back to Bleu. Did Sabine’s jealousy drive her to say such things? If so, she refused to hold it against her. She didn’t want to leave the settlement with a bad feeling or any sort of festering confrontation in her mind.
“I need to return to packing,” Brielle said, rising from the pew.
Sabine gave her another long look. “Then I wish you well on your journey and hope you find France to be where you belong.”
And so the long journey to coastal York Town began, Virginia’s foremost seaport. Their sleek, two-masted ship with its ten cannon and thirty crew was calledCourageux.Fitting, even ironic. Feeling less than courageous, Brielle watched their baggage being brought aboard, her thoughts not on their looming departure but their farewells on the Rivanna River. Emotional, heartfelt farewells that left her second guessing their decision to go.
Bleu had cradled his newborn nephew a final time, unwilling to even give him up when he began to howl. Instead, he’d taken him out onto Orchard Rest’s porch and walked back and forth till he quieted. Sylvie had even cried when they’d embraced a final time for who knew what a voyage would bring. Or was she remembering her own removal from her homeland when she’d been forced onto a ship, never to return?
“Promise me you’ll write as soon as you arrive and tell us how you’re faring,” Sylvie said, drying her eyes and taking the baby back.
“In the meantime, I’ll finish what remains doing on your house,” Will told Bleu. “My boys can till the garden behind it come spring, the girls can sow seed, and then wall it in with brick.”
Titus squared his shoulders and tried to smile. “I don’t want to go with you but I’ll miss you—both of you.”
Brielle kissed his cheek and Bleu embraced him next. “Look after Pearl and Windigo and I’ll reward you well when I return.”
Now, far beyond the Rivanna River, Brielle stood on deck, trying to get her bearings, Nadine beside her in a cardinal-red shawl. York Town was a thriving place, overflowing with taverns and warehouses yet surprising her with a few fine shops. At thelast they’d visited the chocolatier on Water Street, buying a brick ofShaw’scocoa before their departure.
“I never thought to board a ship again nor wanted to.” Squinting in the sun’s glare off the water, Nadine pulled the brim of her straw hat lower. “This will be a far pleasanter journey. At least I’m sure of our destination.”
“I pray for calm seas.” Brielle looked to York Town and wondered if she’d ever see it again. “To think you’ll soon be reunited with your loved ones after so long.”
“Only seeing beloved family again could convince me,” Nadine replied. “And to think you are on your way to meet your French relations for the first time. Bravo,cher ami.”
Such a strange nautical world they’d entered. Barefooted sailors moved around them in all directions, performing tasks and talking or shouting in abrupt, abbreviated tones, occasionally giving them a glance. Were they the only women passengers? She’d heard some of the most superstitious mariners thought women aboard a bad omen, yet the ship’s mermaid figurehead seemed to make a mockery of that.
Bleu spoke with the captain near the wheel. Broad of shoulder and tall, he stood in stark contrast to the squat, balding ship’s master. Their cargo was indigo, grain, and lumber. Brielle could smell the fresh wood in the hold. With gulls careening and crying overhead, they soon weighed anchor, a cabin boy showing them their cramped quarters. Bunks were built into the wall where they placed their bedrolls, pillows, and blankets. She’d grown so used to the spaciousness of the cottage she’d nearly forgotten theRose and Crown’sattic. This was even smaller.
Brielle felt a momentary panic at being shut in with nary a window. “Perhaps we can spend as much time on deck as down here.”
“If all is calm,oui.” Nadine untied her chin ribbons and set her hat aside. “Have you never sailed?”
“Never, though my parents spoke of their coming to America from England long ago. I remember my mother saying she was seasick.”
Nadine’s features softened in sympathy. “La mal de meris truly miserable.”
“You may feel a bit unsteady at first.” Bleu stood in the doorway surveying their quarters in one appraising glance. “I’m across the passageway should you need me.”
Brielle smiled her thanks as she listened to the groan of the ship’s timbers under sail and the thump of sailors’ feet on the quarterdeck above. Her own footing was shaky as the floor tilted slightly. Even Bleu leaned into the doorframe.
“We’ll meet for supper in the captain’s great cabin,” he said, consulting the pocket watch Will had given him upon leaving. “I’ll escort you there if you’re hungry.”
Supper seemed another challenge given she’d already lost her appetite. Was it possible to be queasy so soon?
Nadine began arranging her bedding in a bid to lie down and Brielle did the same, setting the Bible Sylvie had given her on a table near the bunk. She opened it to another Psalm that seemed fitting for their watery endeavor.
If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
24
Just when Brielle found her footing, a gale stole her hopes for the voyage and left her too sick to be terrified, violently ill to the point she thought she might die. Nadine and Bleu tended her when they weren’t off their feet themselves. Bleu recovered first, able to enjoy being on deck in fair weather when he wasn’t watching over her, his concern as touching as it was unnecessary.
