Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(71)
He refused to think about what would happen to him on the morrow, when he returned to the island after delivering Jean to safety. He had no doubt he’d raise the suspicion of some of the officers, since he’d deceived the colonel into moving part of the army away from the battle.
Just the thought of his lies burned his soul. And he knew he had to be done with the spying. He couldn’t betray the colonel anymore. At the same time he’d have to find a way to cover up what he’d done so that he could stay on the island. He couldn’t leave Maman and Angelique.
He’d lay on the charm like he usually did, and he’d be fine.
He had a feeling the real trouble would be getting Angelique to lay aside her guilt about Jean. He’d have his work cut out for him in making her see she wasn’t bound to Jean anymore. He could do it if he tried hard enough. He’d just have to charm her too.
Chapter
19
The morning sunshine couldn’t warm the chill that filled every corner of Angelique’s heart. “Are you ready?” She linked one arm through Miriam’s, and with the other she slung the grain sack containing Miriam’s clothes over her shoulder.
“More than ready,” Miriam said, moving away from the officers’ quarters, where they’d lived for nearly two weeks.
Early that morning, Colonel McDouall had given the islanders permission to return to their neglected homes and businesses. And now the wide open commons that had been filled with the makeshift tents and supplies of the villagers taking refuge inside the fort lay empty. The spots of flattened yellowing grass were the only reminders of the noisy, crowded mass that had gathered there.
Word had come pouring back to the fort all day yesterday, first that the Americans had been forced to withdraw from their position, and then that they’d fallen back to the shore and to their ships waiting for them off the northern end of the island.
Angelique had heard reports that the British hadn’t lost any lives but had sustained several injuries, and that the Americans had suffered many casualties and countless injuries. She could only pray that the jubilant British soldiers returning from battle were exaggerating. Yet if the bloodshed she’d witnessed was any indication of how the fighting had gone the rest of day, then she suspected the Americans had fared just as poorly as the British were bragging.
Of course, Angelique wasn’t celebrating with Lavinia and the other women who shared British loyalties. Instead she’d been sick with worry all day thinking about Jean in the cave with a bullet in his leg. And she’d been equally worried about Pierre attempting to sneak Jean off the island in the dark of the night. What if someone spotted them?
She’d heard reports that two of the injured Americans had been captured and thrown into the fort’s guardhouse, and that one of them hadn’t made it through the night. She didn’t want to believe that the two had been Pierre and Jean, that somehow they’d been discovered in the cave and thrown in prison.
During her fishing trip that morning, she’d gone to Pirate’s Cove. But there hadn’t been a trace of their presence, not even a drop of blood. She’d searched along the shore and had gone farther out into the lake than she normally did, hoping to find Pierre. But she hadn’t caught sight of his canoe anywhere.
“Time for us to be going,” she said to Miriam, trying to quell the anxiety that had grown with each passing hour of Pierre’s absence. Maybe he was waiting for them back at the farm.
She hadn’t told Miriam about Jean or Pierre. They hadn’t had the opportunity to be alone for her to mention anything. Still, with the constant whispers of prayer coming from Miriam’s lips, Angelique suspected her dear friend knew something was wrong. And her solution to every problem was prayer and plenty of it.
Miriam reached for Lavinia in the doorway of the building and squeezed the young woman’s hand. “Thank you for your gracious hospitality over the past days. You’ve been a sweet blessing to us.”
“It’s been a pleasure to get to know you.” In a gown the color of lilacs, Lavinia was as fresh and pretty as always, as if she’d been entertaining them for afternoon tea instead of two weeks of tense, hot seclusion. “I’m certainly glad I could be of such help to so many during these difficult days.”
Angelique couldn’t fault Lavinia’s kindness during the time when the fort had been crowded with islanders. She’d opened her quarters, shared her food, and distributed supplies among those camping on the commons.
She’d even honored Angelique’s request to find lodging for Ebenezer, Betty, and their newborn in a deserted room in the storehouse. She was hoping it would soften Ebenezer’s anger toward her. He hadn’t forgotten about Pierre’s beating after the dance and still wore a yellowish bruise around his eye from it. From the sharp glances he gave her from time to time, she suspected he was just biding his time until he could punish her.
Maybe she deserved his punishment. Maybe he’d seen the fickleness in her long before she had. He’d tried to warn her, but she hadn’t listened. In the end she’d followed too closely in her mother’s footsteps.
She shivered and readjusted Miriam’s sack on her shoulder.
Not anymore. She’d make a new path for herself. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to do, but she knew she couldn’t go behind Jean’s back any longer.