No, since Evan’s coming, her people had finally opened themselves to the possibility that strangers didn’t always mean danger to their people. Now they were more willing to hear out a newcomer before planting an arrow in his gut.
But having promised pitchblende to the United States, they’d essentially thrown in their lot with that country. This Levi Masters worked for England—the United States’s primary enemy. And the fact that the group that massacred six innocent Laurent citizens a decade ago were also from England would not encourage the council to extend grace to this man.
Yet didn’t everyone need grace? None of them were good in the sight of the Lord on their own power. Only the great God who freely offered mercy through the death of Jesus allowed any of them to live.
So who were they to condemn any man based on his country, or even his past? Levi Masters should be condemned or acquitted based on his character and current actions. His honest response to questions that he must’ve known would condemn him had spoken much for his character. Maybe she could get Brielle to allow her to speak with Levi. Perhaps bring him food and allow her the chance to learn more about him. Then, if necessary, she would exercise her family’s right to have a representative on the council.
She would speak for this man if she had to. With the grace she’d been given so many times, both by her heavenly Father and her earthly papa, she couldn’t sit by while anotherperson was judged according to something they had no control over.
She padded to the apartment she shared with her father, then slipped inside. Papa sat in his wicker chair by the fire, carving a wooden bowl.
He straightened when she stepped in, and his face wreathed in a welcoming smile as she made her way to the shelves of dishes mounted beside the fireplace. “Bonjour, my girl. You look like you’re set on a task.”
She reached for a mug and bowl, then set them on a tray and carried it to the fire. She kept a pot of stew always warming for times like this, or if someone in the village took ill. “Evan’s come back. And another man followed him here.”
Papa’s gaze sharpened as she shared the details. He stroked fingers over his close-cropped beard when she finished with, “He’s being taken to the storage room for holding until his fate is decided. I imagine he’s hungry.”
“I suppose the council will be meeting to discuss him?”
She nodded but kept her focus on the stew she scooped into the bowl. Should she encourage Papa to go share his opinion? If he went, she had to make her thoughts known to him. But would he plead on the stranger’s behalf if she asked him to?
An image of Levi Masters’s earnest face slipped through her mind. When he’d been speaking of his plans to the council, something in his tone, his expression, rang true in her core. He’d lost that veil of deception that had covered his features when she’d met him by the creek. This was the real Levi Masters—she would stake her reputation on it. And she was almost as certain the council would vote against him. Either against his freedom, or possibly even against his life.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Yet Papa needed to represent their family on the council if he was able. So many times, his melancholy kept him from taking on that role, whether from an excess of drink or simply fear of what the others thought of him. The rest of the village knew his quirks and took it all in stride, but Papa couldn’t always overcome his fears. If he could do so today, she should encourage him.
She placed the dishes and a serviette on the tray, then turned to face her father. “You should go to the assembly room and join the conversation. I hope you’ll vote in favor of this new man. He spoke honestly to the council, and I feel confident he’s not holding back important details. Even more so, I don’t think he means us any harm. We can’t punish an innocent man who intends no harm to our people. Yet I fear Evan’s influence and the commitment the council made to America will affect the others’ judgment. Will you stand up for this Levi Masters?”
Her father studied her, and his jaw seemed to tremble the slightest bit—something she’d noticed a few other times recently. Was he so deep in thought he’d lost his ability to control his bodily reactions? Or did this mean something more ailed him? Maybe there would be enough valerian in the herb garden to help him with these trembles.
“I wish I could meet this man who seems to have captured your regard.”
Audrey met his solemn gaze, even as she tried to ignore the heat rising up her neck. “I’m taking this food to him now. Would you like to walk with me?”
Papa shook his head. He rarely made unexpected appearances around the village, staying home most days. With asigh, he laid his woodwork on the table beside his chair and pushed up to his feet. “I had better see what’s happening with the council. I’m surprised Durand hasn’t sent someone to summon me.”
Her gaze followed her father as he shuffled to the wall beside his bed where his clothing hung on hooks. With slow movements, he pulled on his best frock and ran a comb through his salt-and-pepper locks.
When he turned to her, straightening the tails of his coat, she sent him a warm smile. “You look well, Papa.”
The way her words brought a lightness to his face made her throat burn. If only she could make him feel half as loved and appreciated as he’d done for her through the years.
If only she could take away the darkness inside him that made his life such a challenge.
4
When Papa left their chamber, Audrey turned her attention to the pot bubbling beside the fire. Perhaps she should ask Brielle before taking food to their visitor, since he was technically a prisoner.
Surely feeding Philip and Monsieur Masters would be acceptable. Her role had always been to prepare meals for newcomers to Laurent, as they were usually trading parties of Dinee natives. Why should this man be the exception?
With the tray in hand, she rose and made her way out of the apartment and down the chilly hall. Sounds drifted from behind doors she passed along the way—the Mignots’ two young boys must be squabbling again, and their mother’s voice rose above their bickering with a hearty reprimand. As she passed the Thayers’ door, an elderly man’s chuckle drifted through the wood. Louise’s father-in-law had come to stay with them, giving his home to his newlywed granddaughter and her husband.
The newly cut apartment for the Chapuis family sat on the left side of the corridor. It was the only home built that far into the mountain so far, though Brielle said Evan wouldsoon be constructing their own home across from the Durands’ quarters.
As they continued to excavate deeper into the mountain, more families would be able to spread out. Space had become a precious commodity for some of the growing families. They would all be grateful at the end of winter, when they could spend more time outdoors.
It grew quieter as she neared the storage room at the far end of the hall. She strained to hear voices inside, mostly to make sure she wasn’t interrupting something important.
