Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(47)
Pierre glanced into the kitchen to Ebenezer’s wife, who sat in front of the hearth with a swaddled baby in her arms. The woman averted her eyes, refusing to look anywhere but at her babe.
“From what I heard,” Pierre continued, “Angelique returned with the midwife in plenty of time.”
“She shouldn’t have been out gallivanting about the island in the first place.” Ebenezer’s voice rose with each word. He cleared his throat and added with forced calmness, “I won’t let any member of my household conduct herself like a loose woman.”
Gallivanting? Loose woman? Pierre almost snorted. Angelique was the last person anyone could accuse of gallivanting or behaving like a loose woman. She was the purest, most selfless person Pierre had ever met. But obviously she hadn’t shared the truth of her whereabouts with Ebenezer, namely that she was risking his punishment to help a poor, widowed blind woman.
Pierre had the feeling if he continued to argue with Ebenezer, he’d only walk away empty-handed as he had the previous afternoons when he’d come to escort Angelique up to the fort. Ebenezer was too controlling. Pierre had come across his type plenty of times in his fur trading. If Pierre applied any amount of force, Ebenezer would cling tighter.
Pierre took a deep breath and uncurled his fists. Red Fox would be proud of him if he could see him now. He wouldn’t solve the problem with his strength and punches. No, he’d play on Ebenezer’s weakness. At least for the moment.
He reached for the door handle and glanced with what he hoped was nonchalance over the untidy room and the Indian child sweeping the sticky floor. “Then good day to you and your mistress. I’ll report back to Miss McDouall your refusal of her request to allow Angelique to visit the fort for her lessons. Miss McDouall will be disappointed you’re not cooperating.”
Pierre held his breath and prayed Ebenezer hadn’t heard that Lavinia was suffering from the fever and ague. With the onslaught of mosquitoes, the poor girl was languishing even with doses of quinine to ease her discomfort. Despite her illness, Lavinia had wanted him to bring Angelique to the fort. But only because she was having her tailor make some adjustments on a gown she wanted Angelique to wear to her big dance.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Pierre opened the door. “I wouldn’t want to be you when Miss McDouall complains to her father. The colonel has been rather tense lately as he’s preparing for the upcoming attack, and he won’t appreciate having to deal with his daughter’s frustration.”
He didn’t wait for Ebenezer’s response. Instead he stepped through the door. Every muscle in his body protested having to walk away. And he resolved that if Ebenezer didn’t release Angelique from her attic prison, he’d go back to his old tactics—beat the man senseless, force his way inside, and physically remove her.
As he walked away from the inn, the oppressive humidity weighed on him, drenching him, almost as if the lake and the sky had traded places.
“Wait!”
At Ebenezer’s call, Pierre expelled a long breath. He forced himself to count to five before turning around. Ebenezer stood in the open doorway of the two-story whitewashed inn, his shapeless gray shirt clinging to his perspiring body.
“I suppose you’re right,” Ebenezer said with a frown. “I don’t want to cause any further worries for the colonel, especially at a difficult time like this.”
Everyone was worried about the coming of the Americans. Most of the townspeople had even begun to store up food and supplies in preparation for whatever awaited them. Some expected the Americans to bomb the island from the harbor. Others suspected an all-out battle with forces landing and taking back the fort. Still others speculated the Americans would set up a blockade and attempt to starve the British off the island.
Pierre didn’t know what was going to happen any more than the islanders did. His communication with the Americans had been one-sided, with him delivering updates and not hearing anything in return.
“If I allow Angelique to go with you to the fort,” Ebenezer said, “then you must bring her back promptly.”
Pierre shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him, when in reality he wanted to yell at Ebenezer that he would never bring her back. “I don’t have anything to do with the time Miss McDouall needs for her lessons. I’m merely the escort.”
“I can always have her make up the discipline tomorrow.”
Pierre wished Angelique didn’t have to worry about any tomorrows with Ebenezer. “She’s a grown woman.” He couldn’t stop himself from defending her. “You don’t need to discipline her as if she were a child.”
“I’m her guardian. I promised her mother I’d provide a stable home for her. Someday she’ll thank me for taking such good care of her, for teaching her to obey the Commandments and protecting her from the shameful and sinful ways of both her mother and sister.”
The last thing Angelique would ever do is thank Ebenezer. But instead of contradicting the man, Pierre peered up at the hazy sun, pretending to check the time. “Since you’ve delayed Angelique’s lesson, you’d better not expect her back on time.”
Ebenezer muttered something under his breath before turning back to the tavern. Pierre followed him to the door and waited.
When Ebenezer returned to the dining room several minutes later, with Angelique moving slowly behind him, Pierre released a pent-up breath.