Chapter 16
Sabine Broussard stood by the kitchen house door, arms akimbo and expression smug, just as she’d been when he’d last seen her. “I thought you’d never return and am overjoyed you’ve proved me wrong.”
Bleu regarded the young woman he’d known for so long she seemed more sister, albeit a quarrelsome one. “For now, oui.”
She surveyed him intently as if searching for another scar, another sign of the conflict which had kept them apart. “Promise me you’ll remain.”
“The Rivanna is a homecoming of sorts,” he said, “though I’m never sure how long I’ll stay.”
Even as he uttered the well-worn phrase he saw that it had become an easy excuse. To be distant. Absent. To risk nothing of his heart. Brielle had, unwittingly, helped him realize that empty evasion.
“I have a proposal for you.” Sabine walked with him into the kitchen house where a line snaked past a long table laden with food. “But first let’s eat.”
More wary than curious, Bleu filled his trencher with the garden’s bounty, remembering Brielle’s tireless work there.
Fresh-caught gaspereau from the Rivanna was the meal’s mainstay, fried to perfection.
Titus, he remembered, had contributed to the catch.
Seeking a breeze, Bleu sat down at a table near an open window.
Sabine took a seat on the bench across from him as his attention veered to the kitchen house’s open door. Brielle entered, making him forget his full plate and Sabine’s unspoken proposal completely. It was the first time she’d joined them here. Had she come seeking him and Titus?
Two Acadians—a blacksmith and carpenter—were talking to her, gesturing for her to go ahead of them in line.
She accepted with a smile though that didn’t end their attentions.
They continued to talk to her, asking questions and drawing her into conversation.
Watching, Bleu’s resistance roared. He hardly heard Sabine across from him.
“So, since you are always traversing all over why not escort me to my father in Halifax?”
“Halifax?” Distracted as he was with Brielle, he groped for an answer. “The enemy’s den?”
“Ha! All of Acadie is now that. But at least we are finally free to visit there unhindered and not be imprisoned or expelled all over again.”
“I vowed never to return.” Try as he might, anger still burned beneath his stoicism. The heat of it nearly stole his appetite.
“A reunion with my father might change your mind, non? I’ve not seen him in eight long years, nor have you.” Determination hardened Sabine’s features. “The British officials might be willing to release him were he to leave Canada for good.”
“Far-fetched.”
“Please, consider it.”
“Do you know what you ask?” He raised his gaze in warning. “We would need a ship’s passage. Even then the journey would be long. Dangerous. Once we arrive—if we survive—he might not be there.”
“You don’t want to return.”
“I have no desire to see Acadie under British rule.” He forked a bite of fish but didn’t eat. “Nor your father their captive.”
“Not even to reunite with him?” Sabine’s face was nearly the color of her russet hair. “To help me reunite with him, the only kin I likely have left?”
“You have family in south Louisiane, so I’ve heard.” His voice was firm as always when battling Sabine. “As for a guide, I have several contacts and can arrange an escort. But I cannot go with you.”
She frowned and fell silent though he was sure she wasn’t finished with the matter.
Swallowing a bite, he looked over Sabine’s shoulder to Brielle again.
She was garnering too much attention. Why had she decided to dine here instead of Orchard Rest?
At least there she was spared excessive notice.
Even in plain linen she was a feast of femininity—and being a newcomer only added to her allure.
Since leaving the tavern she’d begun to bloom, her stark slenderness already a memory.
Sabine raised her voice as if realizing who’d stolen his attention. “So what is this I hear about you returning to the Rivanna with a woman and child?”
“Both, oui.” He was feeling strangely terse and short tempered, the meal unappetizing, the talk and laughter around them overloud. He’d grown too used to the silence of the woods.
Brielle was with Eulalie now, nearly to the food, when Titus caught up with her. Spying Bleu, he waved a hand. Bleu smiled, struck by how the boy had changed for the better in the short time he’d been here.
“Granted, not all the settlement is Acadian so they should fit in well enough if they’re willing to work and cause no trouble,” Sabine was saying. “You must introduce us.”
When Titus took a seat beside them a few minutes later, Brielle followed. Setting down his utensils, Bleu made introductions.
“You’re from the back settlements?” Sabine asked them. “A very dangereux place to be.”
Titus and Brielle exchanged a glance as she said, “We worked at a tavern overmountain.”
Surprise washed Sabine’s face—and disdain. Being la crème d’Acadie and a Broussard, Sabine’s pride in her own lineage had never been more apparent.
“Servants,” Sabine said flatly, even dismissively.
“Don’t be deceived. Mademoiselle Farrow is the granddaughter of the Comte de Sancerre,” Bleu told her quietly, continuing his meal. “From France.”
A hush followed as Sabine’s scorn switched to disbelief.
She looked at Bleu as if he was jesting but he paid her no attention, nor did Brielle elaborate though he sensed her own quiet pride.
He resisted the impulse to look her way again.
Her hold on him was like a leather tie, strong and unyielding, tethering them in ways he couldn’t fathom.
“I’m glad we’ve come here,” Titus was saying as he wielded his fork and ate like a man thrice his size. “I’d rather work along the Rivanna than anywhere else on earth.”
“It is a good place, a safe place to be.” Sabine smiled at him. “We need more youth like you to grow this settlement. As for you, Miss Farrow, what skills do you bring?”
“I’m willing to do whatever is needed and necessary,” Brielle answered, meeting Sabine’s dissecting gaze. “For now I’m working in the gardens and making garments for the settlement.”
“I’m sure Sylvie has something to do with that. Her needle never stops.” Sabine turned to Bleu. “And you? How are you spending your time?”
“I’m in the stables and pastureland, herding horses and cattle.” Bleu took a drink of cider. “Soon I’ll help sow the winter wheat.”
“The livestock have increased considerably since you were last here though it will never equal the Galants’ vast herd of horned cattle in Acadie,” Sabine lamented. “I’m glad to see you still have Windigo—and a beautiful white roan.”
“The roan is Miss Farrow’s,” Bleu replied, meeting Brielle’s eyes.
Her roan?
Brielle stared at Bleu, his sudden generosity failing to make much of an impression.
She was too caught up in the maelstrom of emotion at their table.
Though everyone behaved properly and nothing amiss had been said, the feeling between her, Miss Broussard, and Bleu pulsed like a rapidly beating heart.
Had she interrupted a tête-à-tête?
That had not been her intent. Titus had simply asked her to join him for the midday meal and so she’d come, hoping to see Bleu as well.
Lately he seemed more distant, working and spending time away from Orchard Rest, making her wonder if he needed time away from her, too.
Now that he had brought her here, did he feel matters finished between them?
They’d never discussed what would happen in future once they reached the Rivanna settlement.
“What is your roan called, Miss Farrow?”
Sabine Broussard’s question rattled her. Did the handsome horse that carried her here have a name? She and Bleu had never discussed that either. Brielle gave him a questioning glance and finally said—
“Pearl.” It was all she could think of at the moment. Her mother had loved pearls. She’d given Brielle a string of them for her twelfth birthday, but they’d been lost or stolen during the many moves she’d made since.
Sabine regarded her intently. “You must enjoy riding then.”
“I’ve not had much time lately …”
“Bleu is an excellent horseman.”
Brielle nodded. “One of the finest. The equal of my father, a saddler.”
Bleu looked at her again, the warmth of his gaze adding to that pulsing feeling. She took another bite of the delicious fish, listening as Titus talked to the boy on the other side of him. But Sabine, who Brielle decided had a fervent passion for Bleu, was not done with the conversation.
“Will you stay here in the settlement long, Miss Farrow?”
Sabine’s question seemed barbed—or was she only imagining it?
“I haven’t thought much beyond this moment,” Brielle said truthfully. “My coming here was a surprise—a very pleasant one—and for now I’m grateful to be a working guest.”
“You are more than a guest,” Bleu told her kindly, eyes on his plate as he finished his meal. “Already Sylvie considers you one of the family. The children, too. I’m sure Will shall feel the same once he returns.”
Sabine’s brows raised in question. “Is Monsieur Blackburn away surveying?”
“He’s expected home any time,” Bleu told her.
“Perhaps you could discuss my proposal with him since you are in doubt.”
Proposal?
Brielle finished her meal in silence as Eulalie approached, asking Sabine a question about the stillroom. Was that her domain?
In a few minutes the kitchen house emptied as men and women returned to work. Bleu excused himself and Sabine followed while Brielle lingered at table with Titus who was talking excitedly about making weirs the Acadian way and how many fish had been caught of late.
“I’m proud of you for being so useful,” Brielle told him, her heart as full as her stomach. “Your happiness here lends to my own.”