Dawn on a Distant Shore Page 70


Major Johnson narrowed his eyes at her. "And what of their activities during the war?"

Elizabeth managed a cool smile. "We are not at war now, sir, and they serve no army of any nation."

"It is true that we are not at war. At the moment," conceded Sir Guy. "But in my experience, madam, ladies do not always know their husbands' business."

"Perhaps that is true in some cases," Elizabeth said. "But not in my own. May I ask you a question, my lord?"

"If I may ask you one first and get a truthful answer."

She had put herself in the trap; she could do nothing more than agree.

Sir Guy said, "You have never heard your husband, father-in-law, or this Robert MacLachlan plotting to take part in a new attempt to invade Canada?"

Elizabeth suppressed her smile and thanked the heavens that his imagination had taken him in the one direction that she could counter with complete honesty. "My lord, I give you my oath that I have never heard them mention such an invasion at all, much less their part in it."

"I have reason to believe that they are encouraging the Mohawk to move back to New-York and support the American government against the Crown."

Elizabeth might have pointed out that this was a second question, but she simply said, "From this it is clear to me that you know very little about the Mohawk and nothing about my husband and his father."

Major Johnson grunted, but the governor maintained his thoughtful expression.

"Are you an expert on the Mohawk, madam?"

She shook her head. "That would be a fine conceit, indeed. No, I am not."

"But you understand them. You speak their language."

She shrugged. "Imperfectly."

The governor said, "You are an English lady of good family. Will you not make your home here in British Canada? If your husband is truly as disinterested in politics as you claim, then he might as well be on this side of the border, and take up the cause of his wife's homeland. I would be glad of his assistance with the Indians."

Elizabeth had been lulled into a sense of relief by Lady Dorchester's intervention in her dilemma, but now she saw that she had let down her guard too far.

"Sir Guy, I cannot enter into any such agreement, just as Lady Dorchester would not make arrangements for your removal from Canada without consulting you."

Something flickered in his eyes. "But you are mistaken, Mrs. Bonner. I would be immensely grateful to anyone who would arrange my removal home. The day I am recalled cannot come soon enough."

There was a tone she could not quite put a name to: certainly disgust and some good measure of disappointment, but also a deep weariness.

Lady Dorchester's quicksilver step sounded close by.

"You promised me a question, my lord."

He put out a hand, palm up.

"How did you know that I came here on the Nancy?"

A vague look of discomfort passed over the smooth features. Then he drew a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket and, after a moment's hesitation, handed it to Elizabeth.

The paper was very fine and scented with musk. An elegant feminine hand but firm, the black ink in strong lines:

Sir--

It may interest you to know that Mrs. Elizabeth Bonner is come to Québec aboard the Nancy. She does not travel alone.

Giselle Somerville

Elizabeth had never fainted in her life, but she thought now she might. Confusion and fear made her knees buckle until she found herself sitting on the hall bench, her whole body covered in a fine sweat. Why would Giselle Somerville do such a thing?

"Are you unwell, madam?"

She shook her head and closed her eyes to concentrate, the note clasped hard in her hand. Saw in her mind the closed door of the captain's quarters, and heard Pickering tell them again that Miss Somerville had already retired for the night. Giselle Somerville sent the note to the governor and then she had gone to bed. She wanted Elizabeth arrested, but why? Out of simple maliciousness? Had she heard of the plan to bring Elizabeth on board the Isis and decided that such a thing was not to be borne? Giselle--or someone close to Giselle-- wanted Elizabeth away from the Isis. But why? What was to be gained by Elizabeth's absence?

What had she left behind on the Isis that Giselle wanted?

A great flush of fear began in a trickle at the back of her neck. Elizabeth shot up from the bench, a hand at her throat to keep herself from crying out, just as Lady Dorchester appeared with her arms full of clothing.

"I am sorry, Lady Dorchester, but I must go back to the ship. Immediately. Please, please will you lend me a horse?"

The little woman looked with surprise from Elizabeth to Sir Guy. "But your clothing--"

Elizabeth grabbed Lady Dorchester by the shoulders; she was as small and frail as a bird. As a child. "You must see, I cannot delay. My children. She--someone wanted me away from the ship, that's why they sent the note."

Sir Guy was making small sounds of disbelief. "Surely you cannot think--"

"Sir!" Elizabeth cut him off. "My children are in danger, I can feel that in my bones. If you have any mercy you will not keep me here one moment longer."

Lady Dorchester tapped her foot. "Major Johnson, a horse for Mrs. Bonner, and without delay. Do you hear me, man? Without delay. And ride with her."

Elizabeth took a precious moment to send a look of gratitude to the lady, and then she flew out the door.

The Isis was gone.

Elizabeth stood on the dock, her hands pressed to her mouth, and stared. Major Johnson was asking questions, but she could make no sense of them. Her children were gone. She let out one keening sob and then bit down hard enough to taste blood.

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