Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (44 page)

Darcy turned and looked over her shoulder. The dark, densely forested mountains separated Jean Michel from her, perhaps forever. He would never know what happened to her, and by now she was probably nothing more to him than a distant memory. She must turn and look to the future, realizing that she must forget him and do what she had to do to stay alive. For as long as she could remember, Darcy had to struggle to survive, and she believed in her heart that it would never change. She had never known anything else.

The following day the party approached the shores of a large river Raoul told her was the Chaudière. The Indians pulled several large canoes out of hiding and loaded the prisoners and packs into them. Raoul climbed in the bow of her canoe and picked up a paddle. Several of the Abenaki joined them, and Darcy sat directly behind the voyageur with Isaiah.

She noticed the ease with which he maneuvered the canoe, and it was impressive to see the strength of his arms and back as he propelled the craft swiftly through the water. This was second nature to him, and he turned and explained, "This canoe is called a
Batard
. It only seats ten men. The
Canot
du Maitre
or
Canut du Nord
--those are the true crafts of the voyageur. They can carry more furs than you can ever imagine and fourteen strong men besides. They are a beautiful sight cutting across a lake, still as glass."

Darcy looked across the water at Faith riding in one of the other canoes. She looked relieved to be off her feet and to have a fresh breeze in her face. Fragrant pines bordered the river as it ran its course northward, and it reminded Darcy how very far from
Ireland
she had journeyed.
 
There was very little in this new land to remind her of home, and she wondered if she would ever see
Ireland
again.

They paddled along for a time, and suddenly Raoul burst into song. Darcy looked around for a reaction from the Indians, but they didn't seem to notice anything unusual. He finished and said, "On our long voyages to the outposts, we sing to keep a rhythm to our paddling, and it also passes the time." He continued to hum for a while and then asked, "What of your people? Do they not sing?"

"Oh yes. Many of our songs are stories, some are poems and others praise God."

"But you cannot sing in church, oui?"

"Yes, the Catholic Church allows song."

"What? You are a Catholic? This I did not know."

"Most of
Ireland
is Catholic, Mr. LaRoche."

"Then Father Cesaire will not have to convert you."

"No, but he will have to convert Faith. She is not Catholic."

They paddled most of the morning, and Raoul had the opportunity to find out how Darcy had been transported to the English Colonies and how her papers had been sold to Nathan Lawrence.

The more he spoke with Darcy, the more infatuated he became with her. Raoul LaRoche had never been in love, and these feelings were alarming to him. He loved everything about Darcy, and the more he learned of her, the more he wanted to know. He held no illusions about her loving him in return, but that didn't matter--he only wanted to be near her. As he paddled along deep in thought, he looked up and saw a tall, dark figure standing on shore and he announced, "Look! There's Father Cesaire!"

Darcy looked up and saw a man dressed in the dark robes of a Jesuit standing motionless on the shore. As the canoes rounded a bend in the river a stretch of buildings became visible to her. Lining the shore were five or six oblong structures with frames made of heavy branches lashed together and covered with bark from the trees. Indian women and children began to pour out of the homes to welcome their men home from battle.

There was a mood of celebration in the air, but before the canoes were unloaded, the Indians dropped to their knees to give thanks to God for a safe journey.

As she knelt with the group, Darcy stole a look at the Jesuit missionary. He was a tall, thin man of middle age with volumes of long, black hair and tiny blue eyes. He was tight-lipped and exceedingly stern, and Darcy guessed that he expected perfection from himself and everyone around him.

Father Cesaire said a few words in Algonquian and then in French blessing them all. As Darcy rose from her knees, she felt his cold eyes rest upon her, and he turned away to speak with one of the Abenaki leaders who explained that the prisoners were a gift to their Jesuit father.

The priest looked at Faith and little Isaiah, smiled at them and looked back at Darcy with a look of distaste. She turned her back and looked around at the mission. On a hill behind the long houses was a European-looking structure she believed to be a church. It resembled a log cabin but was larger, and in front of it stood a tall wooden cross.

Suddenly, she heard a smooth voice say in English, "I understand that you are a gift to the mission."

Darcy turned around, faced the Jesuit missionary and nodded her head. She turned away, not encouraging conversation with the man. Father Cesaire was everything Father Etienne was not: cool, detached and judgmental. It was obvious that he ran this mission with an iron fist, and Darcy was not welcome here. When she looked over at Faith, she could see the girl was thoroughly intimidated by Cesaire.

Raoul stood behind Darcy and listened quietly as the Jesuit addressed Faith. "You, my child, and the little one are welcome," and turning to Darcy, he said, "But you are not. They have told me who you are, and your sins are too great. We do not need your kind here corrupting our innocents."

Darcy’s jaw dropped. Never had anyone passed judgment on her so quickly and so harshly. Words of anger and indignation bubbled to her lips, but Raoul jumped in and defended her. "Father Cesaire, you have only just met Mademoiselle McBride. She is not what you think."

"I don't need to know more. This woman would be a distraction and divert too many from the paths of righteousness. I must pray now," said the priest, and he walked up the hill with Faith and Isaiah.

LaRoche said to Darcy, "Is it a sin to dislike a priest, Mademoiselle McBride?"

  
Darcy took a deep breath and said, "If it is, then I sin too, Mr. LaRoche. Why does he dislike me?"

"I don't think he likes women, especially attractive ones. They are too painful a reminder that he has taken a vow of celibacy."

Suddenly, it occurred to Darcy that she had nowhere to go. The Abenaki had brought her deep into the wilderness, over the mountains and now Father Cesaire had refused her a home. Darcy looked around at the tall pines surrounding her and the endless wilderness which divided her from the English Colonies.
How would she get back? She could not travel alone, and no one was offering to take her home. Where could she sleep?
The realization swept over her that she was a woman completely alone and vulnerable in the middle of the frontier without food or shelter.

Raoul saw the terrified look on her face, and his heart began to pound. She had no place to go, no one to turn to for help, and like himself, was all alone. Perhaps, just perhaps, for the first time in his life, love would smile upon him.

Gathering every ounce of courage, he swallowed hard and said, "I know that you have no one, and it would be my honor, Mademoiselle McBride," he stammered, twisting his cap in his hands, "if you would marry me and share my simple life."

Darcy said nothing and stared at Raoul as if she didn't understand a word he said. A fine mist started to fall out of the gray sky, and she looked up, letting the soft water fall upon her face. She had always hoped to marry for love, but that was just a dream. She was standing in the middle of a vast wilderness and a kind gentle man was offering her love and protection.

Without reservation, Darcy turned to him and said, "I accept, Mr. LaRoche, and thank you for your generosity."

Raoul, who had been waiting anxiously for her reply, was completely astonished.
This glorious woman consented to be his wife, and she would carry his name and maybe even his children!
Just moments ago he was miserable, thinking he had to say good-bye to her, and now he would be near her forever.
Life was indeed wonderful!

He reached down, took her hand and kissed it tenderly saying,” We shall ask Father Cesaire to marry us immediately."

They walked up the hill, and Darcy paused for a moment before entering the church, realizing that this was the first time she had been in an actual church. She found it ironic that on her first visit, she was not here to pray or to receive Holy Communion but to sin most grievously, callously taking vows that she didn't believe and marrying a man that she didn't love. Darcy stepped inside, ready to embark on living a lie. She knew she was not the first woman to do it, and she knew with certainty she would not be the last.

Chapter 32

The settlement to which Raoul brought his new bride was very small and very insular. They were suspicious of strangers especially those who came from the English Colonies, so Darcy spent most of her time alone. There were no more than twenty families residing in the community, and they all had some connection to the voyageurs. Most of the women were Abenaki or at the very least, part Abenaki, and they kept exclusively to themselves.

The few men that were around this time of year were of middle age or older in years and all were retired voyageurs. They smoked together and reminisced, speculating on how far to the interior their sons and brothers may be going this season and when they would return.

The home of Raoul LaRoche was part of the cluster of hewed timber cabins by the
Chaudière
River
, north of the mission. Darcy found their cabin to be of adequate size, neat and clean. They had a plot of potatoes along with a garden of other root vegetables, and their diet consisted mainly of fish and game.

Raoul enjoyed the way Darcy prepared food and kept house. Although the customs and traditions of the Irish were somewhat different from the French, he liked the novel ways she prepared meals, and only on occasion did he find something distasteful.

Months had passed now since their wedding, and Darcy had developed a sincere affection for Raoul. His kindness never changed nor his moods and she found him to be a sweet and devoted husband. His sexual demands were few, and he was always gentle, never cruel.

Their lives had taken a set routine beginning in the morning with chores, a large midday meal, then in the afternoon Raoul would leave the cabin to visit with the men while Darcy attended to her sewing or baking.

Evening was the time reserved for the two of them, and they would visit by the fire while Darcy worked the loom, making fabric for herself and Faith. They had journeyed to
New France
with only the clothes on their backs, and Darcy worked night after night on clothing for them both.

Raoul was delighted that Darcy could read, and she read to him from the Bible every night before bed. Up to this point Darcy had been able to use Nathan's small library, but now, for the first time since she had learned to read, she was completely without books. She found comfort in the Bible, but Darcy hungered for more and without friends or even the camaraderie of Shenanigan, Darcy began to feel terribly lonely.

She would stand on the banks of the river and look across it, as if she were waiting for something. Since it was a thoroughfare to
Quebec
, there was canoe activity and travelers on foot to watch, but most of the time the river was empty, and she searched the waterway for no reason at all.

Darcy chided herself for being ungrateful to Raoul. Many women had been happier with less, and they would give anything to have a kind husband who loved them, but try as she might, she could not convince herself that she was lucky. Darcy would look at her life stretching out before her and fight the urge to take a canoe and run, but she knew that she would be enslaved in Quebec or die in the wilderness trying to return to the English Colonies.

How could she ever be buried here the rest of her life and devote herself to a man she did not love?
With certainty Darcy knew that it was only a matter of time before she would die of loneliness.