Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(62)
She leaned into his hand. “I’ve missed you too.”
“Have you told Maman about us?”
“No,” she said slowly. “We’re never alone. Lavinia’s always there, and she invited some of the other island women to take refuge in the building as well.”
He hadn’t told Maman yet either. He’d been so panicked to secure her safety in the fort that he hadn’t taken the time to inform her of his plans to give up fur trading and marry Angelique. Maman would likely be happy he was doing what his father had wanted—staying home and helping with the farm. But he wasn’t so sure she’d be happy he’d won Angelique’s affection away from Jean.
He’d reasoned that Angelique had the right to choose between them, that if Jean had loved her enough, she wouldn’t have fallen so easily into Pierre’s arms.
“We’ll tell Maman soon,” he said, forcing more confidence than he felt. “Once we get through all the danger.”
And what about Jean? How would they tell him? The unasked question hung between them.
Although he hadn’t seen Jean in any of his visits to the American fleet, he’d heard there were several former island residents who were part of the United States Army. If the American attack succeeded, there was the very real possibility they would get to see Jean soon, maybe even by the day’s end.
“Speaking of danger, we need to get you back to the fort as soon as possible.” He gave her canoe a gentle push to get her started.
She didn’t protest. She knew as well as he did that the sun would soon burn the fog away. Even now the air was lightening and growing warmer. It would only be a matter of thirty minutes or so before it would disappear altogether, replaced by bright summer sunshine.
They paddled swiftly the short span to the shore, hid their canoes among the tangle of overgrown reeds and silverweed grass, and then started through the woods. Pierre carried the two dozen fish she’d caught. With each long stride he took, his sense of urgency grew until he was practically jogging. Angelique’s long skirt and bare feet slowed her down, and she began to fall behind.
A sudden boom like that of cannon fire stopped him. He froze, stifling his heavy breathing, straining to listen. Another boom soon followed. Were the British shooting off their cannons?
Even as he prayed that was the case, frustration burst through him. The cannon fire was too far away and was coming from the north side of the island. It couldn’t be the British. It had to be the American fleet, already having dropped anchor where he’d instructed them to.
But why in the world were they firing? Especially when they’d planned on a surprise landing.
Angelique’s labored breathing filled the air behind him. “What is it?” she asked. “Are the Americans attacking?”
He could only shake his head at the idiocy of Colonel Croghan. If Angelique could figure out what the bombing meant, then the British troops and their Indian allies would be entrenched in fighting position in no time. So much for taking advantage of the mist and launching a surprise attack.
His body tensed with the need to sprint to the northern shore and discover what had happened to their carefully laid plans. He glanced through the dense woods that lay between them and the fort. Angelique would be safe for the last two hundred yards on her own, wouldn’t she?
She looked up at him, still attempting to catch her breath, her eyes as trusting as always. Angelique was a smart girl. If she hurried, she’d be fine. He knew that.
Even so, he hesitated. “Promise me you’ll go straight to the fort and lock yourself away with Lavinia in the officers’ quarters until this is all over?”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to find out what’s happening.”
“Can’t you come back to the fort with me?”
He shook his head, draping the strings of her fish over her shoulders. “I have to do my duty, Angelique.”
“Duty to whom?”
There wasn’t a hint of condemnation in her tone, only curiosity. But the question stirred guilt within him anyway. “It’s better for you not to know.” He spun away before she could see the truth in his eyes. He didn’t like all the guilt that had been eating at him lately, first in how he’d handled his anger toward Ebenezer, and now for his duplicity in the war. “Hurry back to the fort,” he said over his shoulder as he started running.
For a long moment he could sense that she hadn’t budged, that she stood watching him dodge the low-hanging branches and leap over windfall. He was tempted to turn around, to rush back to her. He could think of nothing he wanted to do more than to kiss her and hold her tightly in his arms. Yet he forced himself to keep running. Tomorrow he would kiss her.
If he lived through today.
Angelique stood rooted to the same spot long after Pierre had disappeared through the thick woods.
The booming continued to echo in the northern part of the island. Her heart thudded at the thought that Pierre was running into the line of danger.
A long bugle call sounded from the fort. She was sure it was a call to action, which meant the British soldiers would soon be marching out to meet the Americans. The Indians would likely join in the fight.
Pierre was right. She’d be safest inside the fort.
Was that why he’d been in such a hurry to get her back to the fort? Had he known about the impending battle? She hadn’t thought to question why he’d been out on the lake in the mist or why his face had been lined with exhaustion.