“It was my letter of good conduct that Jeanne stole to escape Father de Sancy’s suspicion. And I gave her my best petticoat this morning because she does not have a trunk.”
Marthe exhaled. “Good. All you must do is ask her.” She linked her arm with Élisabeth’s, urging her forward. “It is a good plan. I know she can help you lift the curse. None of us realized what she truly was until she fell into the river. Then we all saw her magic.”
Élisabeth slowed, stubborn against Marthe’s enthusiasm. “But she is high-and-mighty. She might refuse me.”
Marthe dismissed her sister’s doubts. “Then you must choose your time and your words carefully. You will only get one chance to seek her favour.”
They walked quickly, Marthe squeezing her arm, wordlessly imploring her to act.
“Yes,” Élisabeth said slowly. “Yes, I should choose my time and words wisely.”
Marthe felt she might melt with relief. There was a curse, but there was also hope. For every coming dusk, there would also be a dawn. “And you must start with the deepest curtsey and praise her goodness and charity.”
“Should I remind her of all that I have done for her?” They walked arm in arm, the wind whipping at the hems of their skirts.
“No. You must be humble in her presence.”
“You are right, of course.” Élisabeth smiled, a tremulous stretch across her wan face. “I am glad that I told you the truth. And I am sorry that I kept it from you for so long.”
“A burden shared is a burden halved.” Marthe gave Élisabeth a quick squeeze. She could not help herself from skipping a little as she walked.
“I confess I was overcome with despair when my prayers did not work,” Élisabeth continued, her tone becoming lighter. “I imagined that just by setting foot on this island, that would be enough. What a fool I was. This is a betterplot. Why, if Jeanne Roy cures me tomorrow, we could even sail back to France with theSaint-Jean-Baptisteon its return voyage this week!”
Marthe halted. “Sail back to France?”
Élisabeth looked sheepish. “Yes. Once the curse is lifted, we can go back to Saint-Philbert. I can marry Rémy and… and you… well, wasn’t there that boy from Pont-d’Ouilly who took your fancy? Once I marry Rémy there will be money for a dowry for you.”
Marthe dropped Élisabeth’s arm. “You want to go back to France to marryRémy?”
“Of course. He only broke with me because of the witch’s curse. If I can fall pregnant again, his parents would have to agree to our marriage. That was always our intention, to force his mother’s hand. But with the curse upon me I cannot bear a child, Rémy says.”
“Youintendedto fall pregnant?” Marthe’s voice rose. “It was no accident?”
“Many brides go to the altar already with child. You know what the Delaunays are like. Determined to squeeze the largest dowry out of whoever marries their son, no matter which plain-faced ogre it’s attached to. Rémy wanted so much to marryme. We knew that if I was with child, they would have to agree to let us wed.”
The leaves on the trees were shaking in the wind. There would be a storm soon, but nothing like the squall that brewed in Marthe’s breast. “After the way he treated you, you would still go back to France to marry him?”
“It was nothischoice to break with me. It was because of the Winter Witch.”
Marthe’s temper flashed. “And what about me, Lili? Why drag me all the way here if you never intended to stay?” She saw the footbridge over the little creek just ahead and started to stride towards it.
“I am sorry, Marthe. Honestly, I don’t… I don’t even know how we would return to France. I doubt the king would pay our passage back, and the cost of the voyage would cripple us. But we must try. I must return for… for true love.”
“True love?” Marthe spat the words over her shoulder. “What about me? What am I returning to? You sold me a story about a king’s dowry and a second chance in the New World. And now you want me to risk another deadly sea voyage to return home to… to be known as the sister of a girl who spreads her legs to win a husband?”
Élisabeth howled and ran, catching Marthe’s arm. “I was a handfasted bride! That means we are as good as married in God’s eyes.”
“Does it? I’ve never heard of such a thing. Did Rémy tell you that?”
“I… it… Rémy loves me!” Élisabeth spluttered, her eyes looking this way and that, before hardening and turning on Marthe. “Listen, I have been looking after you since you were four years old. You will do as I say. And I say we are going home to Saint-Philbert.”
“Married in God’s eyes? You are such a fool!” Marthe sneered and wriggled free from Élisabeth’s grasp. She could not see straight, so blinding was the rage inside her. She grabbed for the first anchor she could think of to stop her drift. “No, I am not going back with you. I am staying here. For I am to be mistress of the best bakery on this island.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Verger has asked me to marry him. And I will accept him.Iwill be married—in God’s eyes, and inchurch.”
“Whoasked you?”
