Saving The Marquise's Granddaughter (11 page)

“Ja.” Adam cleared his throat. “We wanted to warn you. Johan walks in his sleep and ends up in that room.” He hurriedly added, “Not often…”

Maria clucked her tongue. “Not in a long time.”

“That we know of,” Adam gave Suzanne a cautionary look. “Don’t be alarmed if he rattles your door. It doesn’t lock, so place a chair underneath to keep him out.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“No.” Maria sighed. She rose and retrieved a platter of tarts from the sideboard before offering them to Adam. “He wouldn’t harm anyone. But having a
grand homme
suddenly in your bed, hugging you tight, might startle you.”

Did she know how they’d had to huddle together at night on the trail to stay warm?

At first shaking her head as Maria offered her the treat, Suzanne relented as Maria’s eyes begged her to accept one of the diamond-shaped confections they’d worked on together. “Merci.” She nibbled on the almond filling at the edge. She wanted to giggle at the idea of Johan coming into the room, swinging his hands as he tried to hug her. An unbidden thought sobered her.
I trusted Etienne and look how he behaved.

Adam clapped his hands together. “His brother will watch over him.”

Johan hadn’t wandered away in his sleep, during their travels. Why would he start now?

“I’d better go learn how to milk the cows. Merci for advising me.” Suzanne hitched up her skirts and headed outside. Chickens scurried past. She shuddered at the thought that she might have to prepare one for cooking.

Johan headed toward her and clasped his large, rough hand over hers. “Come on, I teach you to milk.” He practically dragged her to the barn. Once inside, he pulled the milking stool close to the animal and sat down. “Watch.” He scrunched his long legs under him.

She pushed his shoulders. “Let me try. You’re too big to sit on that stool. You’ll break it.”

“I’ve been sitting on this thing since I was this high.” Johan held up his hand to Suzanne’s shoulder.

“You’re not that short anymore.”

He didn’t move, and when she pushed him again, he tipped over backward, bringing her with him. Horrified, she landed atop him with a thud. Heat coursed up her chest. Pushing with her hands against his shoulders, she tried to rise up, but her skirts were tangled in his boots. Preparing to apologize, she ventured a look at him.

He chortled. Had he allowed her to knock him over?

The cow mooed.

“What exactly are you teaching her, Brother?” Nicholas’s voice mocked. “She probably learned how to do more than that back home. N’est-ce pas?”

Johan lifted her off him before rolling to his side. He jumped up and jerked Nicholas off the floor.

“Put him down, Johan.” Suzanne covered her mouth. Would he hit him?

Nicholas’s face blanched.

Adam’s boots crackled on the straw. “What are you doing? Haven’t we had enough death on this land? Johan—your brothers, all gone…stop at once.”

Johan released his captive.

Face contorted, Nicholas grabbed the milk pail and dumped the contents on Johan’s head before pushing past his father and out the door.

Johan shook off the liquid, grabbed a tub from a peg, and headed toward the well.

Suzanne’s heart hammered. She’d never witnessed family members fighting like that. Guy argued with her, but he’d never touched her in anger. But if Nicholas had said those words in front of Guy? Her brother was a godly man, but she had no doubt what he would do. And the blow would hurt for a long time.

8

A rattling sound broke through Suzanne’s thin haze of sleep.

The noise repeated and the wooden legs of the chair placed under the doorknob screeched softly as they wobbled against the floor. She hesitated.

Nicholas was tasked with securing Johan in their room overhead. Who was trying to enter the room? Nicholas?

In her fog, she searched for the rapier she’d forgotten at Aunt Louisa’s home.

“
Oma,
” Johan’s low voice called out, accompanied by a light rap.

Thank God, it wasn’t Nicholas.

Suzanne forced her limbs out from under the quilts.
Johan would never hurt me.
Even in her exhaustion, something in her spirit recognized this truth.

“Please…” The gentlest voice from such a large person.

It broke her heart. Suzanne pulled the slatted chair away from the door, and it swung in. Johan slipped into the bed. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

“Nice and warm here.”

She stared at his strong profile, reflected in the moonlight. She tensed as she realized what she’d done. In her exhaustion, she hadn’t considered. She shouldn’t have opened the door.

“Get in.”

She stayed rooted by the door.
I’ve made so many bad decisions.
Suzanne hesitated. But she’d opened the door. “Wait. Be patient.”

The wide chair sat in the other corner of the room.

She could sleep there. Stumbling slightly, she made her way around the bed to the other side.

“
Schmusen
.”

What did that mean?

He rolled to his side and held his arms out before tugging her hand, outstretched to pull one of the quilts from the bed. She toppled forward into the bed, landing on top of him with a thud. She gasped.

Johan pushed her off.

Her heart pounded.

A low growl accompanied his words. “What are you doing?” He rubbed his forehead, frowning. Certainly, he didn’t look like a man intent on harming her. There was something both frightening and tempting about remaining there by his side. Johan rubbed his mouth. “Suzanne. I’m sorry. I don’t know what…”

“It’s all right.” She eased out from beneath the covers and slid her feet to the floor.

He groaned. “I don’t know what happened.”

Even in her confusion, she knew. “Nicholas left the door unlatched.” But why?

“Ja, he must have. I’m sorry.”

~*~

“Did you rest well, my dear?” Johan’s mother pressed her palms against each side of Suzanne’s face and brushed her lips against Suzanne’s forehead; cinnamon scent pleasantly reminded her of Grand-mère’s kitchen.

“Oui,” but her hands shook as she clasped the mug of warm milk between her hands.

Johan sat across from her, instead of beside her on the bench. “Morning, Mama.” His voice was low, tentative.

“Why don’t you sit by Suzanne?” Nicholas demanded, as he ambled into the kitchen and kissed his mother. When there was no response, Nicholas slipped in next to Suzanne, his hard thigh nudging hers.

She moved as close to the edge as she could without falling off.

Johan’s sea-blue orbs fixed on her. He lowered his head, chewed his food, and then stared back at her. He seemed positively addled today. Perhaps the result of his episode.

But she didn’t want to ask Maria. She’d talk with Johan later. “Johan, will you show me how to milk the cows again today?” Suzanne gave him her sweetest smile.

He took his plate to the dry sink, came back to the table, and removed Suzanne’s before returning, taking her by the hand, and pulling her free from the bench. “We try again, but this time we sing to them. Make them relax and let down their milk.”

“I see.” She didn’t. Singing to cows? “Before I forget, what does schmusen mean?”

Three pairs of eyes turned upon her.

Johan quirked an eyebrow at her. “Means cuddle. Like a child on a parent’s lap. A good word. Why do you ask?”

Johan’s mother gave him a pointed look. “After the milking practice, send Suzanne back to me.”

Half an hour later, she returned, washed up and slipped on her work apron.

Fruit bread, baking in the hearth, wafted its sweet aroma as Maria sat chopping vegetables for the next meal. “I’m surprised you mother didn’t teach you to bake.”

She needed to change the subject of cooking. “I can stitch a good seam.”

Maria smiled at her. “Yes, Johan told me. You can help me make his new coat.”

Her stomach sank. “I’ll try.”

“We’ll start in a little bit by measuring a new waistcoat for Johan. He has outgrown his good coat. Noel, his cousin, has a new baby and the baby will be baptized soon.” Dark eyes surveyed her critically. “We’ll teach you to cook, bake and to eat what you make. We’ll fatten you up, child.”

“I haven’t eaten so much since before…” Tears pricked her eyes. “Maman had gotten sick.” Maybe not since she was a child at Grand-mère’s, before all the secrecy of what was required of a Huguenot family at court.

Had her brother been killed? Or had he started a new life without her? Was Guy in Amsterdam as planned, while she waited here until the next group of people could leave for the colonies?

“I miss my French family, also—an aunt and uncle I love dearly.” Maria set her knife down on the chopping board.

The door flew open. Cold, earthy morning air preceded Johan into the room.

“Suzanne!” Heavy boots splattered clumps of mud across the wide, wooden planks of the floor. “Come see the baby lambs.”

Amazing how he could communicate in a few words exactly what she needed to know. She laughed.

Johan turned and exited, slamming the front door.

Maria threw her hands in the air. “Put on that coat from the peg, Suzanne, and go ahead.”

Suzanne slipped into her boots, put on the heavy, coarsely woven coat, and fled. Rich, springtime earth greeted her, and she tilted her face toward the warm sun.

A warm hand grasped hers and Johan pulled her toward the barn. He lifted the largest of the new lambs, offering it to her.

She hesitated, humbled by the tiny creature’s exquisite construction. A divine hand formed such beauty. She tucked the lamb into her arms.

“All perfect, Suzie.” Warmth, love, and
joie de vivre
. How could one young man roll that into just three words? Johan could probably convert King Louis. So charming, yet he didn’t realize it.

“Suzanne,” she corrected him. The reduced name had no dignity.

“Ah, let me call you Suzie.”

His slow grin caused her heart to catch in her throat. She couldn’t let him affect her like this.

“No, I refuse.” Suzanne lifted her nose in the air as his nimble fingers tickled her through the back of her coat. “Stop that!” She shrugged off the assault. On second thought, the king was safe in his faith.

“Come, bring your lamb with you.”

Not her lamb. Tempted to place it back with its mother, instead, she followed Johan.

“Time to tend the horses.”

Leaning against the doorframe of the barn, clutching the baby lamb, Suzanne watched in the shadows as Johan retrieved and rubbed liniment into the horse’s knee. His touch was gentle, but thorough, and the motions soothed Suzanne, too.

“There, not so hot now, girl,
ja
?”

She coughed, the dust in the barn thick. “What’s wrong with her?”

“I’m not sure, but that knee keeps swelling.”

She had to ride the horse again, to get back on her journey. Their group didn’t depart for weeks, but she wouldn’t wait that long.

Pipe smoke, sweetly cloying, trailed Adam into the barn. “Let me look.”

Johan unkinked his long frame and loped to her side, but not before giving the half-smile that always sent shivers up her spine.
Stop,
she instructed her quivering knees when she sensed the wonderful heat coming from him in the chilly barn.

He frowned before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “You’re cold. Go get one of Grandmother’s shawls before you come back out.”

But she didn’t move.

And he didn’t release her. He stroked Suzanne’s arm as his father continued to feel along the mare’s front knee. “Not lame, Suzanne, but she will be if she doesn’t rest.”

“I’ll get the other horses ready for the trip to Noel’s, Papa. How much meat should we bring them?”

“Danke, we’ll need both horses ready. With that new babe on the way, I want to bring extra for his wife. Maybe some venison and ham.”

Suzanne placed a hand against the mare’s side. “Would anything else help her heal more quickly?”

The skin between Adam’s eyebrows puckered. “Only time will help.”

Johan affected a fatherly tone and patted the horse. “No long rides for you for a while.”

Suzanne bit back disappointment. Maybe Guy was coming for her. Reaching into her pocket, she fingered the smooth beads. Her hands shook. But Grand-mère’s rosary no longer provided the immediate balm it once had. She’d get out one of Grand-père’s coins, too. She recalled Jeanne once stating, “Between your grandmother’s faith and your grandfather’s riches, you have quite an inheritance.”

Jeanne. She’d get word to her. If anyone knew where her brother was, it was her old friend. Guillame was angry with Jeanne—he hated that her friend disregarded his advice about Pierre. But surely, he would forgive Jeanne. He’d always had a soft spot in his heart for her, no matter what she’d done.

The tight queue at the base of her neck vexed her. She pulled the ribbon from her hair, shaking her head and releasing her hair. For now, she’d stay put. She’d rest and ready herself.

Johan smiled down at her. “Will you help Mama make my new coat?”

“Oui.”

Observing as Johan exited the gate and bisected the yard, she ascertained that his infernal pregnant “pet” was munching grass by the fence. She sped after Johan, hoping the ornery animal wouldn’t bother her.

The nanny goat ran toward the gate, blocking it. “Maah!” Green grass hung down from the goat’s mouth as she bared her long yellow teeth.

Nicholas whistled tunelessly behind her. “Afraid of a nanny goat?”

Suzanne didn’t bother to turn around. She was to help Maria with Johan’s new garment. She’d been measured many times herself and had been with Guy when the family tailor had come to their apartment. No animal, nanny or not, would prevent her from getting to the house.

The nanny chomped on more grass.

Suzanne motioned. “Shoo!”

Nicholas laughed. “She’s not a fly.”

Suzanne shook off the chill that dripped down her spine, and moved toward the goat. She didn’t fear the nanny, or Nicholas. No, she feared herself and her reaction to the young man whose coat she would soon be fitting. Wrapping string snugly around Johan’s broad shoulders. Standing close to him, absorbing his warmth.