Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(27)

“Then it is a good thing I brought my entire summer wardrobe. My father chastised me for packing six trunks and told me I wouldn’t have need for so many gowns. But I had the suspicion I would make good use of them. And I was right.”

Angelique eyed the ruffles and lace that adorned Miss McDouall’s gown, and she shook her head. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—ever don one of Miss McDouall’s gowns. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“Oh, think nothing of it, my dear.” Miss McDouall’s smile was warm and as sweet as one of the tea cakes Angelique had nibbled with her tea. “I’ll look through my trunks this very evening and find something suitable to your station. I believe I included one or two plain gowns from last season with the foresight that I would be in the wilderness and might have use of something old.”

A rush of anxiety choked Angelique. How would she stay invisible in one of Miss McDouall’s gowns? She’d stand out like a crimson cardinal against freshly fallen snow and make herself a target for some old trapper looking for a wife.

She started to shake her head but stopped. Ebenezer wouldn’t make her, not with his strict standards concerning modesty. Perhaps he’d consent to Miss McDoull’s daily lessons, but he’d never agree to let her strut about town looking like a loose woman.

Miss McDouall glanced into the front hallway that ran down the middle of the building, separating the commander’s living quarters from those of one of the other officers.

During the past hour, various soldiers had been coming and going from the room across the hallway from theirs, where Colonel McDouall was meeting with the previous commander of the fort, Captain Bullock.

Only Lieutenant Steele remained at his post at the entryway of their sitting room, standing erect and waiting for Miss McDouall’s beckon.

Angelique had prayed the quartermaster wouldn’t have to escort her home. He’d said nothing to her on the climb up the steep path to the fort. She’d almost begun to believe he hadn’t remembered their encounter in the woods earlier in the week, until they’d entered the fort and stopped outside the heavy door of the officers’ quarters.

His tone had been clipped and filled with warning. “If you say anything at all about me to Miss McDouall, I expect it to be favorable.”

She’d hoped he would leave and return to his duties as quartermaster. With all the barrels and crates that had been delivered from the ship, he would certainly have a great deal of work restocking the fort’s supplies and distributing them among the soldiers and Indians.

But apparently he’d made time in his busy schedule to dote on Miss McDouall.

“Mr. Durant,” Miss McDouall called, rising from her chair, her eyes bright and fixed on a new arrival in the hallway.

Angelique followed the young woman’s gaze, and to her surprise she found herself staring at Pierre. He’d changed out of his voyageur attire and wore the garb of any ordinary man on the island. Except Pierre wasn’t ordinary at all. He was still as dashing in his corduroy trousers and calico shirt as he’d been in his leather breeches and capote.

At Miss McDouall’s call, Pierre paused, and instead of continuing toward the colonel’s office, he veered toward the sitting room.

“I’m delighted to see you here, Mr. Durant.” Miss McDouall glided gracefully away from the table.

Pierre’s attention was focused on the beautiful woman, and he flashed her one of his breathtaking grins. “Lavinia McDouall.”

He started into the room, but Lieutenant Steele blocked the doorway with the butt of his rifle.

At the sight of the quartermaster and rifle, Pierre stopped short, and a shadow crossed his face.

Angelique sat frozen in her chair. Did he realize the quartermaster was the one who had attacked her earlier in the week?

“You may let him pass, Lieutenant Steele.” Miss McDouall bestowed a smile on the soldier. “I know Mr. Durant from our association last summer in Montreal.”

The quartermaster glared at Pierre before lowering his rifle.

Pierre strode past him, his attention centered on Miss McDouall. “I heard you were here. But nobody told me you were so ravishing.”

Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. “I heard you were here too and working for Daddy.”

Angelique hadn’t had the chance yet to ask Pierre whose side he was on in the war, but she’d assumed he sided with the British like most of the Indians and voyageurs. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been welcome on the island.

She was only a little disappointed in his choice, though eased by the thought that he wasn’t joining the fighting and wouldn’t have to pick up arms against Jean.

Pierre reached for Miss McDouall’s hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss there. Then he bowed gallantly.

Miss McDouall gave a breathy laugh, but at the sight of Lieutenant Steele’s scowl, she blushed again and pulled her hand away from Pierre.

For a long moment, Angelique could only stare between Pierre and Miss McDouall. Then something hot and sharp stabbed her. Did Pierre have feelings of affection toward Miss McDouall?

Angelique sat up straighter and scooted to the edge of her chair. Didn’t he see her at all? Was she completely invisible and unworthy of notice in the presence of one as lovely and charming as Miss McDouall?

“When I arrived yesterday to such stark surroundings,” Miss McDouall said, “I was worried I might be bored this summer. But now that you’re here, I know I shall have a gay time.”