From anybody else this would have been an empty threat, but Nathaniel knew his daughter. Daniel was going and she would go too, unless they tied her down. She had the money she had inherited from Elizabeth's aunt Merriweather, after all, and she would use it to get what she wanted.

Daniel sat perfectly still and said nothing at all, though his gaze was fixed on Lily. He knew her better than anybody, and he was too clever by far to jump into a fight he knew he couldn't win.

Luke, on the other hand, hadn't spent enough time with Lily to read the signs. He reached for the bowl of beans and made a sound deep in his throat. “This is between you and your folks,” he said. “I won't go against them.”

“I will,” said Simon Ballentyne.

Ballentyne was the kind of man who never spoke up unless he had something to say, and Nathaniel had almost forgot that he was sitting at the table until he heard his voice.

Everyone was looking at Simon. Luke irritated, Daniel uneasy, Jennet intrigued. Nathaniel couldn't read Hannah's expression, but he saw that Elizabeth was ill at ease and confused, both.

“Mr. Ballentyne,” Elizabeth began in her most polite tone, “I'm sure you mean well—”

Lily held up a palm to interrupt her mother. “You will what, Mr. Ballentyne?”

“I'll see you to Montreal, and make sure that you're settled there.”

For the most part Nathaniel liked Ballentyne, a competent man, hardworking and quick, a little dour in the Scots way but not without a sense of humor when it was called for; he could laugh at a joke at his own expense. But this conversation was taking an unexpected turn, and Nathaniel wasn't easy with it. Neither was Elizabeth, who had gone very pale.

For her part Lily looked just as surprised as Nathaniel felt, which was some kind of relief: at least she hadn't planned this.

“Ballentyne,” Luke said. “This is none of your business, man.”

Lily turned on her eldest brother furiously. “This is none of your business,” she snapped. “And I'll thank you to stay out of it.”

“Lily!” Elizabeth could barely contain her embarrassment or horror.

“I'm sorry, Ma,” Lily said in a calmer voice. “But this is between Mr. Ballentyne and me.”

“As is any marriage proposal,” Jennet volunteered. And then, in response to the shocked silence around the table: “What did you think he was offering? The use of a horse?”

Daniel was on his feet suddenly, all his pretense at calm gone. “Are you offering for my sister's hand, Ballentyne?”

Lily picked up her plate and banged it down on the table so hard that the cutlery jumped. “And if he is, what business is it of yours, Daniel Bonner!”

“Da!” Daniel turned to Nathaniel. “Stop this nonsense!”

They were all looking to him now. Elizabeth and Daniel demanding that he take charge and put an end to the discussion, Hannah and Jennet and Many-Doves suspended between surprise and curiosity, the children hopping with excitement. Runs-from-Bears and Blue-Jay were amused, and Lily was plain mad. Only Simon Ballentyne was oddly calm. A man not easily riled, then; something in his favor.

Nathaniel said, “I'd like to hear what Many-Doves has to say about this.”

Many-Doves had once been his sister-in-law, but over the years Nathaniel found himself turning to her more often as he would have turned to a clan mother, for her insight and good sense. She had been listening to the whole conversation with interest, but her expression gave away nothing. Now that she had been asked, though, she stood and looked around the table.

“A brother may hunt for a sister who has no husband to bring her meat,” she said. “But he does not make decisions for her. This is a matter for the women to settle among themselves.”

“But Mr. Ballentyne never even asked for her to marry him.” Annie's voice trembled with energy. “Maybe he was just offering her the use of a horse.” She sent Jennet an apologetic look, and ducked her head.

Lily, still standing, turned to the man who sat across from her. “Are you asking for my hand, Mr. Ballentyne?”

Runs-from-Bears grunted softly. “He is now if he wasn't before.”

It took everything Nathaniel had in him to hold back a smile, but Jennet wouldn't be silenced. “Will you no speak up, man?”

Ballentyne hadn't taken his eyes off Lily. Now he said, “It's no how I meant to go about it, but aye, I'm offering for your hand, Lily Bonner. Should you care to have me.” He glanced at Nathaniel and then at Elizabeth. “I would have come to you first, had there been time.”

Luke pushed back his chair so abruptly that it squealed. For Nathaniel to see him standing over the table, his temper barely in check, was to see himself at seventeen, the year he had left home against his mother's wishes and his father's advice. The winter Nathaniel had gone to Montreal and met Giselle Somerville; the winter Luke had been conceived.

He might never know this son the way he knew the ones he had raised himself, but at times flashes of understanding came to Nathaniel as pure as rain. Luke did not want the responsibility that would come with taking his sister north, just as he was anxious about taking a wife. Because he was afraid he couldn't keep them safe; because he knew what it would mean, that double yoke, given the life he must lead.

Luke's gaze was fixed on Jennet, who had her chin pushed out at an angle that could bode no good.

“I want to speak to you right now,” he said. “Outside.”