Captured by Love (Michigan Brides #3)(78)

Now the chances of Jean’s return had vanished. There would be no way for Jean to come back to Michilimackinac with the British still in command. And that meant Angelique and Maman would have to suffer through another winter on their own.

The very thought made him groan.

“You’re in luck,” Lieutenant Steele said, then tossed down a crust of bread. “Several bateaux from Georgian Bay have arrived with food.”

Pierre eyed the dried piece of bread next to his foot in the muck. He didn’t have the strength to reach for it. His own brigade would likely be returning any day now too, the canoes loaded with fresh trade goods. They’d be eager to be on their way west before the weather turned cold. What would become of them now?

“Since we have plenty of food to go around now, I thought maybe I’d share some with you . . . for your final meal.”

Pierre glanced up.

The lieutenant grinned. “That’s right. Your last meal. I’ve decided as part of the celebratory festivities tomorrow that we’ll line up the firing squad and give the soldiers the target practice they’ve been longing for.”

It’s about time, Pierre thought, though he didn’t say anything for fear the lieutenant would change his mind and keep him in the Black Hole until he was nothing more than a pile of bones. If he had to die, he wanted to get it over with quickly.

The lieutenant started to back away.

Pierre greedily drank in the faint streaks of orange and pink in the wisps of clouds far overhead, and he dragged in a final breath of the cool air before the staleness of the Black Hole could settle back around him.

“Oh, and by the way,” Lieutenant Steele said, spitting and aiming so that the glob fell against Pierre’s head. “I’ve heard rumors that Ebenezer Whiley is looking for a husband for Miss MacKenzie.”

Pierre pushed himself up. “A husband?”

The lieutenant gave a hollow laugh. “Thought that might interest you.”

It didn’t just interest him. It carved a path of alarm through his battered body.

“Now with the return of commerce to the island, seems he’s determined to marry her off to any man willing to pay the right price.”

Please, God, no! he screamed silently as he struggled to rise from his cramped position, his arms and legs protesting every movement with sharp pain ricocheting through his body.

“Let me out, Lieutenant.” Pierre clawed at the dirt wall in front of him, sending a shower of crumbling stones and dirt down upon his head. “I beg you to let me out.”

He didn’t care that he was begging now. He didn’t care if he had to get out and kiss the lieutenant’s boots. He’d do anything to keep Angelique from the fate she’d feared more than anything else.

Lieutenant Steele reached for the trapdoor.

“Please, Lieutenant, I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Just let me out so that I can help Angelique.”

“It’s nice to see you so cooperative, Durant. Finally.” He began to lower the trapdoor.

“No!” Pierre shouted. “Let me out!” Laughter mingled with the creaking of hinges until a final bang cut off all light and sound. All that remained was the echo of his protest. “No!” he yelled again.

His breath came in gasps, and he tore at the sides of the pit. He needed to get to Angelique and help her before it was too late.

“Let me out!” he screamed, even though he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

He was as trapped now as he’d been the day he walked into the fort and was arrested by the sentinels. No one was coming to rescue him. No one was going to bail him out of trouble. He’d brought this upon himself and was determined to face the consequences of his actions. He’d decided to take the punishment for his foolish spying so long as he knew Angelique would be taken care of with Jean.

If he couldn’t have Angelique for himself, then he would gladly give her up for his brother. Jean would love her and provide her with a good life. In fact, he couldn’t think of a better man than Jean.

But now . . .

He loathed the thought that Ebenezer was selling her off to any old fur trader willing to pay him a bride price. He had no doubt that if Ebenezer set his mind to do it, he would. Look what he’d done to Therese.

Panic seized him at the idea of some dirty trapper touching Angelique. “Help!” he called again toward the heavy slats.

With the little strength he had left, he dug into the dirt wall and tried to climb up the incline. He managed only a few small steps upward before the dirt crumbled and he lost his hold. He fell backward awkwardly. A cry of frustration slipped from his lips, filling the pit with all the agony welling inside him.

For once in his life he was completely helpless, unable to do anything in his own power or charm. He couldn’t save his own life, much less Angelique’s. He pounded his knees with his fists, then hunched into a quivering and exhausted mass.

He knew he’d always thought too much of himself, put too much stock in his own abilities. Was this God’s way of showing him how prideful he’d been?

“I admit it, God!” he cried out. “I’ve been arrogant and stubborn. I can’t get myself out of this situation on my own.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have relied so much upon himself in the first place and should have been turning to God for help.

It wasn’t too late to start doing that, was it?