Dawn on a Distant Shore (25 page)

"That makes
sense," said Nathaniel. "But how did you think to get us out of gaol
to start with?"

She shrugged. "I
was hoping that diplomacy might be enough, with Will's help." Daniel was paddling
his feet against her abdomen, and she winced as she shifted him. "But
Captain Pickering gives me to believe that Somerville would have hung you in
any case."

"Aye, well. Pink
George is a fool. Carleton might have been more reasonable, but we'll never
know." Nathaniel smoothed a curl away from her face. "So you found a
boat with a willing captain ..."

She nodded, her gaze
fixed firmly on Lily, who was slipping off to sleep again. "Yes. And I
paid him half, as a deposit. To be sure of his cooperation."

"If that's the
case, then I don't see that there's much to worry about--we won't show up, but he's
got money in his purse, and he's no the worse for wear. Even if he wanted to go
to Somerville with his story, he doesn't know where to look for us. What's his
name?"

"Stoker."

The focus of his gaze
sharpened suddenly. "Stoker! Why Mac Stoker, of all people?"

"Captain Mudge
introduced us."

Nathaniel grunted.
"I would have thought Grievous Mudge would have more good sense than
that."

Now she flushed with
irritation, and was glad of this new kind of energy. "Until Pickering
sought me out, the
Jackdaw
was the only hope we had to get to Montréal
today. Time was of the essence. I did the best I could, Nathaniel."

His expression cleared
suddenly. "I know that, Boots. Christ, I know that." Andwitha
sideways glance: "Did he try to put his hands on you?"

"No!"
Elizabeth's head snapped up. "He was rude, but did me no harm. I went to
see him just before we sailed. He took the money, and told me where we would
find him tonight. And that's all there was to it."

"I'll guess he
drove a pretty hard bargain."

Daniel gulped out of
rhythm and coughed, sputtering milk. Lily, already asleep, began to twist her
face into a knot at the sudden disturbance.

"Let me,"
Nathaniel murmured, leaning in to gather Lily up close to his chest so that Elizabeth
could deal with Daniel. When the babies were quiet, Nathaniel said: "Mac Stoker
ain't the kind to think of paying back money he hasn't earned, and he's not
about to go calling on the Crown. He'll spend the silver and forget all about
it." He turned to examine Lily's sleeping face in the light of the hanging
lantern.

Against the dark heart
of the night, the porthole was as round as a coin. Silver coin; yes. A handful
of silver coins paid for passage, and she had left the
Jackdaw
so proud
of herself and how she managed Mac Stoker that she never even realized that the
chain she wore around her neck was gone. Someone had cut the chain as neatly as
any London pickpocket, and not even Runs-from-Bears had noticed.

But sooner or later
Nathaniel would see that it was gone. If only she had listened to Bears and stayed
away from Stoker; but she had let her fear get the best of her common sense.
Perhaps men were right and women were not capable of rational thought; perhaps
she knew herself not at all.
Let Mac Stoker be satisfied with money for work
never done and with a single gold coin.
A strange prayer, and one she feared
would not be heard. A man like Stoker was rarely satisfied once the smell of
gold was in his nose.

"Elizabeth."
Curiosity was at the door, the long plaits running over her shoulders like dark
rivers shot through with silver. "Let me put those babies down
again," she whispered. "So you two can get some sleep." The keen
brown gaze missed nothing, not the state of the bed or the flush that still mottled
Elizabeth's breast or the bite marks on Nathaniel's shoulder, but she simply
took the sleeping babies and slipped away.

When the door had closed
behind Curiosity, Nathaniel put out the light and dropped his breeches. There
was enough moonlight to show her the long flat muscles of his thighs and the
intensity of his purpose; it was dark enough so that she could burn bright with
the knowledge of her own reckless actions and he would take it for modesty, and
for passion. At least that much was real; there was a stirring deep in her
belly at the sight of him, as sharp and bright as the single silver earring
that sparked against the dark column of his neck.

"So, Boots,"
he said, one finger moving up the slope of her calf so that her toes curled tight.
"Now that you've got that confession off your chest, tell me, is it sleep
you've got on your mind, or the lack of it?"

It was midmorning
before the
Nancy
sailed into the narrowing of the St. Lawrence that
would take them into port at Québec. Even beldecks the bosun's raised voice
could be heard as he sent the crew scrambling to shift sails.

Because they could not
show their faces on deck in a port crowded with the king's soldiers and excisemen,
the Bonner party stood at the transom windows in Pickering's quarters, watching
the traffic on the river. More masts and sails than could be counted; barks and
schooners, two frigates, sloops and cutters, merchantmen and whaleboats,
private packets, bateaux and canoes, some of them big enough to seat twenty
men. Many of them were Royal Navy vessels, which made Elizabeth glad of the
heavy draperies that could be pulled shut; she did not like to look very long
at the harbor, which had the feel of a carnival just barely in control.

Curiosity juggled Lily
to a more suitable spot on her shoulder and shook her head at the sight of it.
"I thought sailors was supposed to be tidy-minded."

Hawkeye snorted
softly. "You'll see precious little tidy about Québec at the beginning of
the season. The North West Company is just gearing up for the trek to Grand
Portage--in another week they'll be off for Lachine and this place will seem
like a nunnery. Not that we'll see it."

"Look," said
Hannah, pointing to the long dock that seemed to be their destination.
Boatworks and a storehouse of brick, all belonging to Forbes and Son
Enterprises. The dock itself was dominated by a three-masted merchant ship, square-rigged,
newly painted, carved and gilded on every surface. A merchantman, as bright and
beautiful a ship as Elizabeth had ever seen.

Hannah said,
"Isn't that Captain Pickering's ship? Do you see? The figurehead he told
us about, the Lass in Green."

"So it is,"
said Nathaniel. "The
Isis
." Elizabeth saw him send Hawkeye a
look over the child's head.

"What are all
those little clapboard windows?" Hannah carried on.

"Gunports,"
said Robbie. "She's armed tae the teeth, is the
Isis
. Ye see, lass,
she carries a valuable cargo but she doesna always sail in convoy as do most o'
the merchantmen. She's broad bottomed for cargo, and square-rigged, too--that
means that she canna run verra fast, and so she mun be able to protect hersel',
for there are privateers enough on the seas these days and a new war wi'
France, forbye."

Overhead a great
shuffling and Pickering's voice raised in a series of quick orders, the groan
of chains and a splash as the last anchors were dropped. A calling of voices
from the wharf to the quarterdeck, and back again.

"Look, Elizabeth,
your cousin Will." Hannah tugged at her sleeve.

"Yes," said
Elizabeth, heaving a great sigh. "Thank heavens." And then she saw
that Will was not alone. A lady waited on the dock beside him. She wore a round
gown of Mantua silk the color of green pippins, with a long emerald-green sash.
A matching cape billowed in the wind, and with one gloved hand she held down a straw-colored
gipsy hat tilted to expose coiled dark blond hair. It was tied under her chin
with a silk handkerchief the same color as her sash. The cost of the silk alone
would have paid a sailor for two years. Elizabeth could not make out the lady's
face, but the tension in Nathaniel's hand on her shoulder told her what she
already suspected.

Hannah tugged on
Elizabeth's sleeve. "Who is that?"

"That is Miss
Somerville," Elizabeth said calmly. She smiled at Nathaniel, wanting him
to see that she was not worried, or even curious. At least the first was true,
but she did not know if she could convince him of that. "Will accompanied
her here to Québec as a favor to her father."

"She looks a very
fine sort of lady to be out among the boats," said Hannah, taking Miss Somerville's
measure. Elizabeth wondered how much she had heard about Giselle's history.

Curiosity clicked
softly with her tongue. "You remember, child. Pickering told us about Miss
Somerville. They're set to marry, and soon." A sliding glance to Elizabeth
and her mouth turned down at one corner; Curiosity knew, if Hannah didn't, but
Curiosity was not the kind to judge a woman harshly on the strength of men's
stories.

"Will we get to
meet her?" asked Hannah.

"I doubt
it," said Nathaniel. "She'll have other things on her mind."

And so will we
, added Elizabeth to
herself, for she had caught sight of a schooner, moving fast on the water. Not
nearly so fine a vessel as the
Isis
, far smaller and in need of paint.
On deck stood her captain with a long glass in his hand. The
Jackdaw
.

Runs-from-Bears caught
Elizabeth's eye, and raised a shoulder in a question she could not answer.

My dearest Husband
Galileo Freeman,

Runs-from-Bears leaves
for home shortly and he will fetch this letter to you. God grant we follow, and
not long after. We hope to sail tomorrow, in what ship we don't know yet, to
what port we ain't yet sure, but Hawkeye and Nathaniel are firm in their faith
that it can be managed. Bears will tell you the story of how we came to be in
this frenchified place, as it is too long and tiresome a tale to put down on paper.

To the Judge word that
his grandchildren are in rude good health. His daughter's spirits have come up
too since she has Nathaniel with her again. Little Hannah bids me tell you that
the leather purse you worked for her does good service. She wishes you well as do
all our friends here.

My loving greetings to
our children. I trust our daughters have not forgot the lye barrel as it is high
time to set soap. This year more pompkin and yellow onion should be put out,
for last we ran short. Husband, remember your long underwear, for all that it
itches. Otherwise the night damp will be sure to bring on your Miseries and I
ask you, which is worse?

  Your Loving Wife of
these Many Years,

  Curiosity Freeman

  writ by her own hand
this Fifth Day of

  May, 1794

  Bas-Québec, on board
the Nancy

Dearest Many-Doves,

Nathaniel and Hawkeye
are now restored to us in good health, and so I understand very well your joy
as your husband comes home to you after so long an absence. Runs-from-Bears
will give you all the news that prudence prevents me from putting to paper, but
know that we will be with you as soon as it is in our power.

The children thrive,
for which we thank Providence and pray the same is true of young Blue-Jay. Hannah
bids me tell you and her grandmother that she has learned to bind a sprained
ankle and that she is very sorry to have missed the maple festival, and so are
we all. I fear she misses you more than she will admit, although the twins are
a comfort to her and she takes great interest in everything she sees.

I write to beg you to
visit the schoolchildren, or send them word. Summer session will begin as soon
as we are returned. To Liam, my fond regards and gentle reminders that he
should not neglect his reading, writing, or ciphering while we are gone. I hope
to see evidence of his industry and good progress.

Hawkeye, Robbie, and
Nathaniel send their greetings and loving affection to you, your mother and brother,
as do Curiosity, Hannah, and I. You are always in our thoughts. With deepest
affection

  Elizabeth Middleton
Bonner

  5th of May in the
Year 1794

  Québec

Dear Liam,

I have never writ a
letter before but Elizabeth helps me write one now to you, to say that we are soon
on our way home. Runs-from-Bears will tell you how it is that my Father and
Grandfather and Robbie are free. It is a good story.

On the long carry to
the big lake we passed a sawmill. There was a man strung up from a dead oak and
his hands struck off, we could not ask for what crime. Robbie's red dog Treenie
is dead. A soldier shot her. It made Elizabeth gey sad, but this morning her
cousin Will Spencer sought us out. That has been a relief to her, I think.

My little brother and
sister are in health, and so are all of us, except Curiosity, who has caught a
cold in her chest. She says it is Canada at fault, for no reasonable place should
have such a cold, damp spring.