Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(26)
“I’ll buy some chickens, a milk cow, maybe a hog.”
Her pulse started pattering again, this time with a crashing wave of wonder and delight—and a keen longing to run to him and throw her arms around him.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” A shadow of worry flitted across his face. “Am I making a mistake to stay?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her words were breathless. “It’s a wonderful decision.”
His grin returned. “Do you think you can put up with me for a few weeks?”
“Maybe.” Her body trembled at the thought that she’d get to be with him longer than she’d hoped possible. “You’re a bear to be around, but I think I can handle it for a few weeks.”
He laughed, a deep laugh that made her cheeks ache from her uncontainable smile.
“You’re a dear girl, ma cherie. I’m glad you haven’t changed.”
“I have changed,” she started to protest. She didn’t want him to think of her as a little girl anymore.
But he’d already turned to head back to the cabin.
“Remember,” she blurted, “I’ve become a master fisherman.”
He winked at her over his shoulder. “And you remember. Tomorrow. At dawn. Down at the west shore. We’ll see who’s best then.”
She watched him swagger away, and she wanted to yell out that she wasn’t a girl or his sister, that she was a grown woman now. But what good would such a declaration bring? Pierre would only laugh at her and tease her again.
What did it matter anyway what he thought of her?
It didn’t matter, did it?
Chapter
8
Angelique squirmed in the cushioned chair across the small oval table from Miss McDouall.
“So, then we are agreed,” said the young woman, perched on the edge of her chair. She was every bit the lady in another of her beautiful silk gowns, this one robin’s-egg blue. “We shall meet for tea in the afternoons for lessons in conduct, as well as lessons in reading and writing.”
The panic that had constricted Angelique’s chest when she’d stepped inside the fort and into the officers’ building cut off her breath again. It wasn’t the fort itself that scared her. She’d been inside the walls before when she’d come to sell eggs and fresh produce. The tall, whitewashed stone wall on the south side was imposing, as were the sharp-pointed wooden palisades that surrounded the rest of the hilltop fort.
She was accustomed to the sight of the structure, since every time she looked up from anywhere in town, it was always there on the cliffs, a serious sentinel looming overhead. But she’d never been inside any of the buildings, much less the large stone house where the officers lived.
As the safest building in the fort, the residence consisted of living quarters for the officers and their families, bedrooms, and offices. There was even room for the kitchen and servants in the building’s lower level.
Again Angelique’s eyes darted around the grand sitting room. With a lovely carpet at the center, lacy curtains, and brightly cushioned sofas and chairs, it was likely the fanciest room in the fort, perhaps even on the island.
Miss McDouall took a sip of tea from a dainty porcelain cup. Her fingers were delicate and unblemished against the fancy blue pattern of the cup.
Angelique stared at her own fingers, coarse and red and cracked. She’d been afraid during the entire past hour that her cup would slip from her grip and crash to the polished wood floor. Or that she’d spill tea onto the spotless white tablecloth.
Not even the pleasure of real tea with a hint of lemon could take away her discomfort, sitting in close proximity to the elegant Miss McDouall.
“Are you agreeable to the plans, Miss MacKenzie?” Miss McDouall set her cup on the matching saucer, making only the tiniest of clinks. She gave Angelique an encouraging smile like one would to a child.
Angelique smiled back weakly. What need did a poor girl like her have for reading or writing? Or lessons in conduct—whatever that was?
But she knew Ebenezer expected her to be agreeable to the young woman. He’d been giddy to form a connection with the commanding officer, Colonel McDouall, and he’d warned her before she’d left the tavern that she’d better not do anything to jeopardize the position of honor. He’d also reminded her that she would serve her discipline when she returned home—that he’d not forgotten and would still make her pay for her sins.
“I’m not sure that my stepfather will spare me from my work every afternoon,” Angelique finally managed.
“He seems like an agreeable man. I shall send him a note and explain our plans.” Miss McDouall lifted a linen cloth to her lips and pressed gently. “Surely he will consent once he understands how beneficial such an arrangement will be.”
Ebenezer had likely begun calculating how much profit he could make through his association with the important commander. Angelique had the sinking feeling that he wouldn’t say no to Miss McDouall’s plans, even if he wanted to.
“The very first thing we must do tomorrow,” continued Miss McDouall as if the matter were already settled, “is to find more suitable apparel for you to wear when you visit. And I shall show you how to bathe and groom yourself properly.”
“This is my best garment.” Angelique glanced down at the plain skirt. It was frayed and stained. But it was cleaner than her everyday skirt, which she had changed out of before Lieutenant Steele had arrived to escort her to the fort.