Dawn on a Distant Shore (27 page)

One of Hannah's plaits
had come undone, and the wind whipped her hair against her cheek. She glanced
at her father over her shoulder and saw his expression, somber with worry. And
just a few canoe lengths behind them, a whaleboat full of redcoats, rowing
hard.

Hannah's throat closed
in fear. She turned farther and half rose from her crouch, one hand coming up
to point out to her father what he must see for himself. His face came alive
with surprise and he opened his mouth to shout--
sit down!--
but the wake
from the ship was still strong and she had already lost her balance. The canoe
rocked hard once and then again, water sloshing up. Hannah slipped over the
side into the icy river without a cry.

He had her by the
collar as soon as she came up, lifted her sputtering into the still-rocking
canoe as if she weighed no more than a trout. Bears' face like thunder, and her
father angry, oh, he was angry: she knew the look although she had not seen it
often. But she could do nothing but cough and cough and then she began to
shake; she couldn't remember ever being so cold. With some separate part of her
mind she saw that her nails were tinged blue and understood what that meant. Her
father was wrapping the blanket around her, his anger softening into more
worry. She heard her grandfather's voice but could make no sense of the words.

But she heard the
Redcoats. They were laughing, round hats bobbing as they rowed by.

"Good fishing, eh?"
shouted one of them.

"A tasty morsel,
that!" And a roar of laughter.

Hannah put her head
down on her knees and willed her tears away.

"If I have
understood you correctly, cousin," said Will Spencer, closely examining
Daniel's sleeping face, "you have two ways of quitting Québec immediately.
The first is to travel by canoe with the Mohawk, if that can be arranged. The second
is to sail on to Halifax with the
Isis
and look for passage to Boston or
New-York from there."

Elizabeth had been
pacing up and down with Lily, who was finally settling after a difficult day,
but she stopped and considered her cousin. Will was intelligent and rational
and completely worthy of her trust. He had come far for their benefit and risked
much. His good name and negotiation skills had never been put to the test, but
his journey to Montréal had taken a good end anyway: Somerville had proven too
politically astute--or too cowardly--to accuse a fellow peer of complicity in a
gaol break. And if Will had the misfortune to be distantly related to a
backwoods American fugitive, he was also the only son of the chief justice of
the King's Bench. Somerville had not only sent him on his way, he had also
asked Will to chaperone his daughter on the first leg of her journey to her new
life.

The sight of her
cousin's husband in good health was the best that the day had afforded thus
far; Elizabeth was inclined not to burden him with more of their difficulties,
and simply to send him to join Amanda. But she also knew that Will would be satisfied
with nothing but candor.

"There is also
the possibility that Mr. Moncrieff will arrange passage for us," she said,
bringing up a name that they had not yet discussed. "A friend of
Pickering's. He was arrested with our three and released the morning of the day
that they ... got out of Montréal. Pickering tells us that he is hard at work
at it, although we have not yet seen him."

Will looked up from
his examination of Daniel. "But I have. Seen Moncrieff, I should say. He
came to Québec on the Portsmouth with me." Something flickered across his
face, and then it steadied. "And Miss Somerville, of course."

"Oh, Will,"
said Elizabeth with a little rush of air. "Do not tell me that you too
have fallen under Miss Somerville's spell. Perhaps she is fey, and not quite
human at all."

He gave a great hiccup
of surprise. "Elizabeth!"

"Don't
Elizabeth
me, Will. Every man who comes in contact with her sacrifices some part of his good
common sense--and his heart."

"Is that
so?" said Will, one eyebrow arched. "Every man?"

Elizabeth narrowed an
eye at him. "Are you infatuated with Giselle Somerville?"

"Of course
not." Will laughed. "She could never engage my interests, Elizabeth.
Surely you know me that well."

With a sigh of relief,
Elizabeth began to pace again. "Well, I am glad to hear it. Now, more
important than Giselle Somerville--what did you think of Mr. Moncrieff? Did you
trust him?"

With a shrug Will
said, "He is Carryck's man, and will have considerable connections
here."

From the first
officer's cabin where Curiosity had gone to rest there was a fit of coughing. Elizabeth
turned in that direction and waited until it had passed. When she was sure that
Curiosity did not need her help, she resumed her pacing, which seemed now to
have some good effect on Lily. The baby yawned so widely that Elizabeth might
have laughed, if she were not trying so hard to get her to settle.

"I did not ask
about Carryck, Will. I asked if you mistrusted Moncrieff."

He sighed. "You
are not changed at all, Elizabeth. Very well, then, I had only a day with the
man. He is not a retiring character."

Lily had finally
fallen into a real sleep and Elizabeth eased her gently into the basket, so that
it was a moment before she could turn to her cousin. "Ah. I take it then
that his talkativeness set you on guard. He told you then about his theories regarding
Hawkeye's parentage?"

Will brought Daniel to
her so he could be put down next to his sister. "Yes, he did. He was just
out of gaol that morning and highly agitated by the report of the fire and the
escape--as was I, of course. I expect that otherwise he would not have been so
indiscreet." With one finger he rubbed a scar on his chin that dated from
a particularly rousing game of archery when they had been no more than twelve.
Elizabeth was taken by a sudden and unexpected swell of homesickness for a time
when life had been simpler. Now when she looked at Will he glanced away, as if
he had more bad news and did not know where to start.

He said, "You
seem very unconcerned by the fact that you may have married into one of the
richest lines in Scotland. Carryck is a major shareholder in the East India
Company. His personal fleet alone brings in a fortune season by season."

In her relief,
Elizabeth laughed out loud. "Is that all? I thought you were about to tell
me that Moncrieff was an agent of the king's and on his way here to arrest us
all."

"Ah. Then you do
not think that Hawkeye is Carryck's heir."

"I did not say
that. I think he very well may be. But even so, Hawkeye has not the slightest
interest in the connection. And Nathaniel feels as his father does."

That calm gaze was
designed to uncover the slightest inconsistency in an opponent's story, and he
leveled it at her now. "But what of you, Elizabeth? It would be a far easier
life than this one, to be the wife of Carryck's heir. And your son's
birthright, as well--I should think it hard to overlook that. Do not look so
surprised. This must have occurred to you."

Elizabeth sat down.
"But you have surprised me, Will. I may yearn for simplicity, but an easy
life has never been my goal. You of all people know that. And as far as my son
is concerned--" She looked toward the sleeping children. "He has no
need of what Carryck can offer. We Bonners do not put a great deal of value on
worldly goods, in case you had not noticed."

"Hmm."
Will's gaze flickered toward the bag that he had returned to Elizabeth and
Nathaniel earlier in the day. It sat in the clutter of Pickering's desk and
might have been full of pebbles, for all the concern that had been shown about it.
Elizabeth reached over and took it up, weighed it in her hand.

"I promised to
tell you about the gold," she said. "It is a long and quite
complicated story."

"Your stories
often are, since you came to the Americas."

There was a knock at
the door, and Robbie's glowing white hair appeared. In front of him, a head
shorter and half his width, was Angus Moncrieff. The dark eyes were sharp in
the long, angular face; he cocked his head and put Elizabeth in mind of a
magpie on the prowl for shiny things to line its nest.

She slipped the bag of
gold into the basket at the babies' feet and tucked the blanket over it.

"Madam,"
said the Scotsman with a deep bow that made her almost regret her uncharitable
thoughts. "It is my verra great honor. I am sorry not to find your guidman
and his father with you."

There was a great rush
of footsteps from the deck.

Elizabeth said,
"Your timing is very good, Mr. Moncrieff. I believe that must be them now."

But it was Captain
Pickering, who came with news of a mishap with the canoe. He had seen it from
the quarterdeck, where he had been in conversation with his first officer. In a
sparse few sentences he let them know what had happened. His tone was calm, but
Elizabeth saw considerable alarm in his expression.

"The cabin boy is
on his way with more blankets," he said. "Shall I send for my
surgeon?"

"Perhaps an
apothecary," Will suggested.

"Ginger
tea," said Robbie. "Ma mither claimed there was nowt better for a
sudden chill."

"A hot
toddy," suggested Moncrieff.

Curiosity announced her
presence at the door with a rap of her knuckles on the paneled wall.

"Men," she
summarized with a throaty croak. "Fallin' all over each other on account
of a little cold water. The child'll need dry clothes and a warm bed to start
with. Mr. Spencer, you free to show your face--be so kind as to go over to the
Isis
and ask that Hakim fellow for any willow bark he can spare, and chamomile, if
he got it." She punctuated these orders with a cough smothered in her handkerchief.

Moncrieff and
Pickering hesitated, until Curiosity fixed them with her hardest stare.

"Don' you two got
talkin' to do somewhere else?"

Moncrieff colored
slightly, but the captain only bowed politely.

"Yes, of course.
We'll be down one deck, Mrs. Bonner, if anyone should need us."

"There's some
news that will be o' interest to your menfolk," Moncrieff added.

Suddenly Curiosity and
Elizabeth were alone with the sleeping babies. With a small sigh of relief
Elizabeth said, "You think it cannot be so bad?"

Curiosity raised both
hands, palms up. "She young, and strong. It ain't exactly good luck,
though. Be so kind as to move them things off the bed, Elizabeth, I hear them
now."

There were more
hurried steps and then Nathaniel and Hawkeye and Runs-from-Bears were filling
the cabin. Hannah was in Nathaniel's arms, looking woeful. Her wet hair left a
trail of water on the polished floor.

"She's chilled
through." He put her down on the bed where she looked suddenly small and
very young.

"I'm sorry
..." Hannah began, but before Elizabeth could say a word Curiosity had sat
on the edge of the bed to put a hand on her forehead.

"Now what you got
to be sorry about, child? Did you leap out of that canoe on purpose?"

Hannah shook her head
and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "It was clumsy of me."

Elizabeth crouched
down beside the cot. "Hannah," she said softly. "If you are clumsy
then there is no hope for the rest of us. A more graceful child has never been
put on this earth." But the dark brown gaze that met her own was so sorrowful
Elizabeth wondered if the girl even heard what she had said.

"I'm tired,"
said Hannah. "And cold."

"We'll get you
warm, child. Never fear." Curiosity's voice had the crooning tone she used
with any hurt thing.

Hannah's face began to
crumple in relief or embarrassment and she turned away to the wall.

Hawkeye raised an
eyebrow at Curiosity, as if to ask what he could do, and she fluttered her
hands at them all. "Go," she said softly. "Leave her to
us."

"Yes, do
go," said Elizabeth. "Moncrieff is here."

All three men's heads
came up as if she had announced the outbreak of a war. Robbie was grinning
broadly. "Wee Angus, aye. Now things will happen."

Nathaniel hesitated
after Hawkeye and Robbie had gone. "You'll come find me right away if she
asks for me?"

"Of course we
will." And then, a hand on his arm to stay him: "What news from the Kahnyen'kehâka?"

He shook his head.
"We can't travel with them, Boots. It's too dangerous."

She glanced over her
shoulder at Curiosity and Hannah, and then followed Nathaniel out into the narrow
passageway. In a low voice that gave away more of her fear than she would have
liked, Elizabeth said, "It is just as dangerous to spend another night in
this port."

"Not according to
Spotted-Fox. Things are quieter here than they are upriver."

She forced herself to
meet his gaze. "Nathaniel, I had thought ... perhaps you and Hawkeye
should travel south with the Kahnyen'kehâka, and Curiosity and I should take
the children home by way of--"