Upon Your Return (12 page)

He shifted his position on the cot and she reached to feel his forehead. He was not burning up, as before, but only a little warm to the touch. Her experience with men was limited, but she knew they were less likely to catch a chill than women. She had learned that from her nursemaid.

“Grant, why did you accept his challenge? But, no matter. I am somehow connected to that man. I'm certain I could never get along with him. He's a hard man. He reminds me of my uncle. So arrogant.” She laughed bitterly. “Perhaps that is why he chose him as a suitor. He finally had found someone he could relate with.” She shook her head sadly. “Well. Goodnight then. Sleep well,
Capitaine
Hill. Perhaps there will be angels in your dreams tonight.”

She smiled and leaned close to press her lips to his temple. “Goodnight.” As she pulled away, she felt him stir.

“Fara,” he moaned softly, but then went still again. He remained in the darkness induced by his ailment.

She swallowed the urge to cry, and then took her lamp and left the room quietly.

Chapter Nine

Fara was not decent when Eric came running into her temporary cabin the next morning and shook her awake. “
Mademoiselle
!”

Her eyes snapped open and focused on him. “Eric?”

“You must come. It's
Maitre
!”

She gasped. Something had happened to Grant. “Is he--”

“No, no. Come see for yourself though.”

She nodded. “I must change.”

“Now,
Mademoiselle
. It is a thing to see!” He bounded out of the room then, seemingly oblivious to her state of dishabille.

Fara, perplexed, threw back the bedclothes, and reached for her dressing sacque. Fastening it at the front, between her breasts, she stepped into her slippers and started down the hall while running her fingers roughly through her tangled curls. When she reached Grant's cabin, she stopped short, shocked, in the doorway.

Grant sat up in bed, grumbling about the way his men were milling around him. He also complained about the physician, who was redressing his wound. When Grant's gaze fixed on her, his eyebrows snapped together. “What the hell is she doing here?”

She frowned. It was not the time for him to be upset when he was just getting over an illness. His mood was sour, it seemed. A part of her couldn't blame him, and in a way, she was responsible for how he felt. “Eric, please take the men outside whilst I update your captain on the current situation.”

Eric nodded. “
Oui, Mademoiselle
.” With a small gesture, the rest of the crew reluctantly followed him out the door.

“Why are you here?” Grant whispered, running his tongue over his fever-chapped lips.

She stepped closer to the bed. “I was informed after the duel. Eric practically begged me to come...” When he frowned, she went on. “He seemed to think I could perform some miracle on you. Nothing else seemed to accomplish the task.”

“There was a fever then?”

“
Oui
,” she agreed.

“During the fever, what did I say?”

She smiled. “You were aware of my presence, I think. You said nothing else.”

His eyes searched her face for moments and then he looked away. “
Oui
, I somehow knew you were here.”

“It is good that you are feeling better. Perhaps I can rest now.”

His sudden grip on her wrist conveyed self-conflict. “If I kept you from sleeping...”

“You didn't...I mean, I was worried that you would not wake up.” She did not tell him that she would have wanted to die if he had taken a turn for the worse. She sighed. “About Nicholas…”

“Forget the man. He challenged me, that's all.”

She tried to smile. “I believe he was jealous.”

“Perhaps. It is a pity that you are still tied to him in some way.”

She curiously studied his frown. He did not have to know she went to see the man. She would solve the problem herself; she would take care of her connection with Nicholas if she could. “The man has never approached me once, has never tried to act as my protector. However, I have no access to my funds or dowry until I am wed, or at least not for years down the road.”

“Then we must marry you off…”

With her hands on her hips, she frowned. She could not take his jest lightly. “
We
, my good sir, must do nothing about that. It is my life, as you well know.”

He agreed reluctantly; then he sighed. “I cannot believe you came here to care for me--”

“It was nothing really,
Capitaine
. I was given reason to believe it was a life or death situation.”

He nodded grimly. “I see.”

“I wonder if you might provide me with a way home for you seem to be well again.”

“
Oui
, of course. I'm feeling better by the moment.” His gaze measured her. “I'll have Eric send for a carriage.”

“
Merci, Capitaine
.”

He nodded and glanced away. “I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Fara.”

She frowned. “Inconvenience?”

“Caring for me must have interrupted your plans.”

She gasped. Had she made it sound so bad? She swallowed and closed her eyes briefly.
Oui
, she had acted ambivalent about the whole situation. She cursed herself silently for her behavior. “No, Grant. I--”

“I'm sorry,
Mademoiselle
. I have grown in need of rest. If you want to stay, that is fine. But I must sleep. I hope you will understand?”

“Of course. I'll send Eric in and I'll be in the physician's quarters if you need me.”

“
Oui
, that will be fine.” He observed her silently and she could see the haggard look to his rugged features, the pale lines around his mouth that signified illness. She could do naught else but postpone her plan to make up her poor behavior to him. Another time then, she decided. Fara nodded and left the room.

* * * *

Grant stretched. He was still sore, but felt better after a few days' rest. He glanced down at the harbor surrounding
La Voyageur
and noticed a carriage pulling up before it. A medium-sized man stepped down and turned to take a lady's hand, assisting her from the carriage. His breath caught in his throat when she appeared in a rose-colored dress and her auburn locks fell loosely about her shoulders.

Fara, he mused, and then realized the man beside her was the very one he'd appointed as her protector. When
Monsieur
Spencer lightly rested his hand upon her waist, he gritted his teeth together. Oh hell, he thought. He had no hold on her. If perchance she thought she'd be happy with the American, then he could say nothing about it. She was defenseless in some ways, but now quite capable of choosing a suitor for herself.

He watched them approach the gangway, watched as the American helped her ascend upon the steps. When they reached his level, Grant helped Fara onto the ship's deck and waited patiently as
Monsieur
Spencer found his own way up. Fara looked up at him, her face as radiant as ever. “It is always a pleasure to receive your company,
Mademoiselle
.” She blushed becomingly.

“
Capitaine
, I had to be certain that you were still well. I begged Andrew to escort me here…otherwise I would have come alone.”

The other man laughed nervously, as if put off by her comment. “Of course,
Monsieur
, I would not have let Fara do that. She's a lady. Ladies should not go anywhere alone.”

With an eyebrow lifted, Grant looked them both over. Even though they were on a first name basis, he doubted the man knew how forward Fara could be in her speech or actions, for that matter.
Monsieur
Spencer was certainly a model of society. He could not expect a woman of her position to be outspoken or strong-willed. Grant grinned. The man had some things to learn where
Mademoiselle
Bellamont was concerned. In fact, it was one of the qualities Grant liked best about her.

“How are you?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Well enough, perhaps a little sore.”

Her eyes darkened as she glanced over the area of his body where his bandaged wound lay beneath his shirt. “It is unfortunate that
Monsieur
Bordeaux sought his revenge with such a display.”

“
Oui
,” he agreed, glancing over at Andrew Spencer, who shifted restlessly on the hardwood of the ship's deck as if uncomfortable in the harbor. Perhaps he was more of a fop than Grant had realized as he saw the movement the man made to wipe the soot off of his coat. In a low voice, he addressed Fara, “I suppose I am to relieve
Monsieur
Spencer of his obligation now?”

She nodded. “If you wish, but be gentle. He is a sensitive man.”

He wondered at her comment, but agreed that he would approach the matter quite delicately.

* * * *

A few days later, Grant showed up at the house with Eric in tow just as Fara was leaving for the market with Rosalie. He needed his valet this time because he had been instructing him of his duties on the way to her uncle's house.

“May I inquire of the reason for your visit?”

“Would the pleasure of your company be enough?”

She attempted a smile, but scathingly replied, “Not really. I don't believe you would simply come for that. You are a man of convictions, rarely of leisure.”

He frowned, disturbed by how well she knew him. But, she also did not realize that with her, the only thing he cared about was leisure. He never worried too much in her presence.

“I am here because you need a protector. It is not safe to go out alone. You do not know what some people are capable of.”

“Perhaps, but as I've pointed out before, I am never completely alone. My uncle made sure the servants would be paid whilst I am still here.”

He wouldn't inquire of the reason they had to argue about the issue once more. When he had protected her before, she had allowed it under duress. He wouldn't pressure her this time. With a cursory glance at her nursemaid, he pointed out, “A servant may not always be familiar with the rough side of the city.” He frowned. “I know you won't see it my way, but at least tell me if you plan to leave the house. I'll be near the stables speaking to your driver.” He walked away and left Eric standing by the door.

* * * *

“If you wish,” Fara called after Grant as he departed. Lord, the man was infuriating. Though she did not want him to feel that she was pushing him away as he had somehow interpreted from her after his illness, he was just as intrusive as he'd been before he left for the Caribbean. “Rosalie, see if the cook needs anything while we're out.”

“
Oui
,
Mademoiselle
.” She turned back into the house.

“I've never seen a man love a woman so much,
Mademoiselle
,” Eric remarked.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What makes you say that?”

“You forget. I've known him for a long time. I don't think he's ever been this concerned about a person before…”

“It is because I am a woman. It can be nothing else.”

“I am not so certain that is true. I think, perhaps, you are afraid to admit
La Capitaine
holds feeling for you, more than he has with any other woman.”

“That is ridiculous.”

“Is it? What man except one who has fallen for a woman would continually come to her aid without her request?”

“He has been a gentleman, Eric,” she protested.

“Perhaps, but
Capitaine
Hill would not go to such lengths for just any woman. I believe
Monsieur
Spencer was paid for his duties, was he not? Well, I must be off now.
Capitaine
has quite a list of things to be done.
Bonjour, Mademoiselle
.” He turned from her and left without awaiting her reply.

Fara stared after the man. Grant had paid Andrew? That fact really didn't bother her though. Surely Eric had to be wrong, even delusional, to entertain such an idea about his master. Grant Hill could not love her; he did not know her yet, at least not entirely. His valet must be mistaken.

* * * *

The following afternoon, Fara stumbled across a pile of newspapers her uncle had carelessly thrown into the corner of a drawer in his desk. Some were more recent, others were much older, even as much as twenty and thirty years. She wondered why he had kept them.

Her eyes skimming over the dates, one headline caught her attention. It read: 'Women Attempt to Gain Power Again'. It was from an article dated from the 1830s that in short, began reminding people of the rise of the utopian social feminists in the late 1700s: Suzanne Voilquin, Reine Guindorf, Claire Demar, Pauline Roland, Prosper Enfantin, and Charles Fourier among others.

As Fara scanned the newspapers from the 1830s to the present, it became evident that feminism reemerged again in 1830 and continued, invoking the followers of Claude Henri, Comte de Saint-Simon, under the leadership of Barthelemy Prosper Enfantin. The most influential of these followers was Claire Bazard and in succession, Aglae Saint-Hilaire, Cecile Fournel, and Eugenie Niboyet. Not only were feminist newspapers founded, expressing their opinions, other projects such as a medical and pharmaceutical service, a free vaccination program for children, and a cooperative workshop for seamstresses were established.

Whereas Enfantin made woman central to human emancipation because of her special nature, Flora Tristan, an avid feminist, exalted woman because of her unique role within the family. Despite her emphasis on women's domestic influence, however, Tristan did not envision limiting women's role to the family.

Some progress was made, however, with regards to the feminist opinions that were reshaped, utilizing the idea that all women should be highly educated at the least; that would provide its own power and allow them to raise their children properly and function in the world. The Republic's first minister of public instruction, former Saint-Simonian Hippolyte Carnot, arranged to have Ernest Legouve teach a course at the College de France on the moral history of women. Legouve's roots were clearly Saint-Simonian as demonstrated in his book
The Moral History of Women
: