They rode along the River Loire’s heights where limestone bluffs offered dramatic views of the valley and beyond it. After so much time aboard ship and walking about the city, Bleu regained a freedom he’d lost.
“You are an expert horsemen,monsieur.Something tells me you could ride to Paris and back without breaking your stride.”
Bleu ran a gloved hand along the stallion’s mane. “My Acadian father—Gabriel Galant—had as many horses as cattle. I’ve spent much of my life astride though I’ve never ridden as fine a mount as Vaillant.”
“Few can manage Vaillant, a testament to your skill.” His knowing smile revealed he was thinking of something else entirely. “You also excel as an escort to my granddaughter though I do sense something more at play.”
“On my part if not hers,Monsieur le Comte.” Bleu slowed his horse to a walk, eyes on a distant church spire amid hectares of vineyards. “I assure you my intentions are undeclared—and honorable.”
“I do not doubt it. But surely there is more…”
For once, Bleu had no words. How could he explain without sounding grandiose his belief that he’d been charged with Brielle’s keeping for a time? That in a small, almost holy way he was entrusted with something infinitely precious that even he did not understand?
“I’ve come to believe our meeting was no accident,” he finally said. “That I am simply a means to an end for her, if only to reunite her with you.”
“You, Galant, have a gallantry and generosity of spirit many lack. A singular purpose.”
“I simply want what is best for her. She is alone in the colonies, without kin. She deserves a better life, a family. A secure future.”
“And you cannot provide her with that?”
Bleu gestured to their surroundings with a gloved hand. “I have little to offer compared to this.”
“Yet you have refused my offer of reimbursement. WhatcanI do for you?”
“My concern is for Brielle, not myself.” His hopes for her made him bold as did his standing—or the lack of it. France’s protocols and proprieties had no hold on him. “Welcome her as your granddaughter. Never let her feel less than the noblewoman she is. Treat her as if nothing has divided you.”
“And where does that leave you?”
“For now I am your grateful guest. I’ll return to America in time.”
Thecomtestudied him gravely. “What or who do you have there?”
“My sister and her family. My fellow Acadians.” Bleu looked west. “And if I ever return to Canada there are my mother’s people, the Mi’kmaq.”
“I do not think my granddaughter will take your leaving lightly.”
“Some goodbyes are necessary, even inevitable, and I have had many.” Bleu’s easy reply belied what he was feeling. Sayingadieuto Brielle would be the thorniest of all. “Life is a series of farewells and partings, some harder than others.”
“Spoken like a French philosopher.”
They rode on, thecomtepointing out points of interest and telling the Loire’s ancient, battle-scarred history. Returning to thechâteauin the early afternoon, thecomtehad business to attend to and Bleu found himself in the library, wanting to fill his hours well when Brielle was occupied elsewhere. He happened upon a copy ofRobinson CrusoeandGulliver’s Travels, two novels he’d enjoyed before but were worth a second reading.
He took a chair by a window, only to come to his feet again when Brielle entered, her face aglow. “There you are. The tailor will be here for you soon.”
“Tailleur?”
“I’m not the only one who needs dressing, remember. Grandfather insists on a new wardrobe for us both at his expense—and no expense is to be spared. Not even our Nantes fashions will do.”
“French fashion is a far cry from colonial America,non?” He set the books aside. “Rather like a crystal chandelier to a candle stub.”
“Quite.” She laughed. “Hours and hours with thecouturièreshas finally made me feel more a peacock than a potato sack.”
“You have never been guilty of the latter,” he said with feeling. In fact, he preferred her in simple linen, not silk, though she wore both well.
She flushed. “But before the tailor, we must havethé.”
“And what is that?” he teased, knowing full well what awaited.
