Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (35 page)

Sensing that Nathan was withholding information, she asked, "Nathan, I want to know the entire story. Did he have something to do with this?"

  
"No, this was entirely my doing. In fact, Jean Michel was against it initially."

"Then why?" she asked, standing up, beginning to feel angry. "Tell me Nathan! Why?"

"All right, if you insist," said Nathan, shrugging his shoulders. "I wanted to spare you the hurt and embarrassment in front of Mr. Lupe', but if you must know, I am sending you to the interior because my wife joins me here in a week's time."

Darcy had forgotten that Nathan had a wife, and it took a minute for her to absorb it. Then she stood up and began to pace.

"So this was your solution! I can see that suddenly I am a liability, so you allow this man to take me to the interior to use me any way he sees fit!"

"He has given me his word that you will not be touched," assured Nathan.

Darcy laughed and said, "This is all very convenient for you men, isn't it?"

Struggling with fear and anger, she said nothing for a long time.

Once again her destiny was dictated by another, and her independence was assaulted. "There must be another way."

Nathan stood up and rubbed his brow. He was tired of arguing with her, and he decided to end it the conversation. He knew Darcy feared being sold to another, so he said bluntly, "I can sell you to another man. Would you prefer that?"

At this suggestion, Darcy blanched, and Jean Michel looked down at the floor. He did not feel right watching her squirm under the domination of Nathan Lawrence. He assumed that she was fighting to stay with
Lawrence
because she loved him.

Darcy swallowed hard. She was terrified of the prospect of a new owner, but it was not in her character to be submissive. The fury of betrayal burned inside her. "Nathan Lawrence, I have endured your depraved, carnal ineptitudes for over a year now, and the moment I grow inconvenient, you abandon me."

Nathan's face turned scarlet at this scathing commentary on his sexual prowess, and he stepped around the desk raising his hand to strike her.

Jean Michel jumped and caught his arm. He looked into Nathan's eyes and said, "I'd rather you didn't do that."

Panting with rage, Nathan stared at Jean Michel. He had been emasculated twice within a minute, and his pride was severely injured.
Lawrence
knew he would regret turning his anger on Jean Michel, so he lowered his arm and burned a look into him, thinking,
I detest this half-breed bastard, and I hope he rapes the hell out of that bitch! The minute she returns from the field I will sell her.
Nathan heard the door slam and knew that Darcy had left the room. Jean Michel gathered his things and left as well.

Darcy headed out to the parade ground where she had been dyeing yarn. She picked up the wool and jammed it furiously into the pot with a stick. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned around and faced Jean Michel.

"We will leave at dawn. Bring nothing more than a few personal belongings. Prepare yourself for a long days' walking in every kind of weather. I don't use a tent. We will sleep under the stars."

"You touch me once, Lupe' and I'll kill you when you sleep."

The pity that Jean Michel had been feeling for Darcy dissolved, and he said in a voice heavy with sarcasm, "I am aware of your high moral character, Miss McBride, and I wouldn't dream of staining your pristine reputation." As he walked away he called, "I'm no longer interested in your kind!”

Darcy watched his back, clenching her fists. She was boiling more fiercely than the water in the pot next to her.

*
     
*
    
*

Darcy refused to go to Nathan's room that night, and try as she might to sleep, she could only toss and turn. She had struggled for over a month to avoid Jean Michel, and now Nathan had thrown her into an expedition where she would be alone with the man for weeks.

His comments about her virtue had stung yesterday, and she upbraided herself for caring about his opinion. Darcy had to admit she had used her appeal to obtain a decent position of service, but Jean Michel had no right to classify her as wanton.

Just before dawn she dressed in her most comfortable gown and collected a few things which she rolled into a bundle to be carried on her back. She strapped her shot pouch and powder horn over her chest, and bent down to hug Shenanigan good-bye. Last night she had asked one of the laundress’s sons to feed and watch him while she was gone, and the child seemed overjoyed.

Before closing the door to her room, she grabbed her musket and crossed into the front room. She did not pause outside Nathan's door; she did not care to say goodbye to him. As far as Darcy was concerned, he had abandoned her, and any respect she had for him was gone forever.

Jean Michel waited for her at the gate, and when they set out the sun was beginning to light the morning sky. He was dressed in a soft buckskin shirt belted at the waist along with breeches and leggings tied upon his legs. His dress was suitable for a long journey in the wild.

Laden with packs heavy with food and supplies, they ventured deep into the vast interior following an ancient path traveled only by Indians and deer for centuries. Darcy followed silently in Jean Michel's footsteps, looking only at his back or the ground beneath her. They stopped to rest only occasionally. Their mid-day meal consisted of jerky, or
pemmican,
as Jean Michel called it.

They did not converse, and the farther they ventured from the fort, the more vulnerable Darcy felt. She realized that Nathan and the four walls of the fort had kept her body and heart protected, and now with every step she took, she was more and more defenseless.

Jean Michel found himself in a similar situation. He had a deep love of the wilderness, and to be alone with Darcy in a place of such primal beauty weakened his resolve to resist her.

As sunset approached, he left the path and began to ascend a steep hill. Darcy followed him, struggling through the brush grumbling, as the branches grabbed at her skirts. He looked back and smiled.

"Don't fret. It's worth the hike up here."

When they finally reached the summit, they stood on the rocks of a high cliff overlooking the valley through which they had traveled most of the day. The broad expanse of deep green lay out before them, and the setting sun cast long golden rays across the treetops.

Jean Michel looked at Darcy, as the breeze gently moved her skirts. He watched her stare at the panorama as if she were hypnotized. "She too has a love of the land," he thought.

"It was worth the climb, wasn't it?"

"Tis grand up here," she said looking at the
Windsor
River
winding in the distance. "This is what we in
Ireland
call, a
thin place.
"

"A thin place, what‘s that?" he asked.

"They are places on Earth where the ancient Celts believe the boundaries between the natural world and the supernatural worlds are thin. This is one of those places."

Jean Michel nodded his head. Darcy’s life had been so different from his own, but her spirit was the same. If only she would allow him to step inside. "I thought you would like the view,” he said.

"Your homeland never fails to inspire me," she replied.

"But it is your home too."

"No," she said shaking her head. "When my term is over, I will return to my own cliff tops in Kerry."

It had never occurred to Jean Michel that she might want to return to
Ireland
some day. He slid the cumbersome pack off his back and said, "This is where we will sleep tonight. The breeze will keep the bugs away, so drop your pack and help me build a fire."

"A fire? You can't build a fire here. The Abenaki will see it."

"I have no fear of the Abenaki," stated Jean Michel, in a matter-of-fact tone, as he pulled his tinderbox out of his pack. "They know and respect my father's name so they will not harm me. In fact, I spent several summers among them when I was a boy. They are a people much maligned by the British."

"Sweet Mary, that's fine for you, but what about me?"

Jean Michel shrugged and said, "Sweet Mary! Now that's another matter."

A spark jumped from the flint, and he blew gently on the dry leaves to ignite the fire. When he had finished feeding it with some twigs and birch bark, he stood up and said with a twinkle in his eye, "Don't worry, I'll tell them that you are my woman, and they'll not harm you."

Darcy pursed her lips and began to gather kindling for the fire. As darkness closed in around them, the fire offered warmth and protection from predators, and it bathed them both in a golden glow. Darcy tore up some dried meat and started to prepare a stew.

"There are some leather britches in my pack you can add too,” Jean Michel said.

She straightened up and looked at him.

He laughed. "Oh, I suppose you don't know. Leather britches are dried beans."

Darcy laughed too and shook her head. They ate their supper in silence by the fire with the black wilderness surrounding them.

Finally Darcy asked, "Tell me about your father. I am very curious about The Wolf."

"How do you know that they called my father, ‘The Wolf'?"

Darcy stammered something about Moses then fell quiet. Jean Michel grinned and said, "That's all right, I've teased you enough for one day. I will gladly tell you about 'The Wolf.' "

Jean Michel lay back on one elbow and said, "He was a big, booming, good-hearted fur trader who loved my mother with all his heart. He treated her as if she were a priceless work of art, and I believe that secretly he did not feel worthy of her."

"And your mother, what of her?"

"My mother," he said thoughtfully. "She was very gentle, a highly educated woman, much more reserved than my father. She had the way of a great lady about her, yet she was incredibly strong. My parents loved each other dearly even if they didn't always understand one another."

Jean Michel stared into the flames for a long time, thinking about his parents. When the fire popped, he blinked as if waking up and asked, "What of your family? Tell me about them.”

"I have no family left. My father disappeared when I was a wee babe, and except for my brother Liam, the others died in The Hunger."

Jean Michel could have kicked himself for asking. He watched Darcy bite her lip. She seemed reluctant to talk.

After a few moments she said, "When my mother died, Liam, Bran and I went down to the ocean and lived inside the caves, eating kelp and bits of snail to survive."

"Are these your brothers?"

"Liam was my brother, Bran was not. He was my betrothed. I waited many years for him, and he turned out to be a sniveling traitor running off with his pockets full of money."

So there had been someone back in
Ireland
.
He wondered if this Bran had something to do with her arrest.

"What happened to your brother?" he asked.

"He was hanged."

Jean Michel frowned.

Darcy stood up and gathered the supper dishes. It was clear to Jean Michel that this topic was over. He did not want to fall back into the painful silence, so he asked, "When you came up to
Fort
Lawrence
, did you walk?"