Nathaniel took her by the hand and led her over to the chair by the hearth, and he pushed her into it, gently, leaning down over her.

"Listen to me now. This is what he wants. He wants you to stay here, under house arrest, while we're in Albany."

"House arrest?" she asked, incredulous.

"He says he don't trust you to stay put. Says that when it comes time for you to testify, he wants to be sure you'll come forward."

She was watching Nathaniel's face, the play of his features, the way his eyes moved.

"I think that the minute we're downriver, somebody'll show up here at the door—the judge, most likely—and force you to come back to Paradise. Take you by force, if need be."

Elizabeth lifted her chin. "I know how to fire a musket," she said.

He did her the favor of not grinning. "Aye, well. That's a good thing to know, under the circumstances." He picked up both her hands and held them tight.

"You're strong, and you're brave enough for ten. All right. When we're gone, Bears is going to stay behind, and at the first opportunity, he'll give you a signal. You remember the birdcall up above the waterfall? When you hear that, you go on out for a walk. He'll meet you behind the field where the men are sowing flax, near the mill. You can see it, there. Bears will take you into the bush, Boots, and you'll have to walk hard and fast to keep up with him. But he'll keep you safe, as long as you listen to him and do what he says."

Nathaniel's hands were warm and full of energy in her own. Elizabeth held on to him tightly.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"To Robbie," he said. "Up near the lake the Kahnyen’keháka call Little Lost."

"Robbie?"

"Robbie MacLachlan," Nathaniel said.

"Listen, Boots. I ain't got much time here. They're waiting on me. There's nobody in this world more disposed to look after you and keep you safe for me than Bears and Robbie MacLachlan."

Elizabeth leaned forward and kissed him, hard, catching his face between her hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against her palms.

"Are you scairt he asked, his hands on her upper arms, holding tight.

"Yes."

"Good," said Nathaniel. "You need that, hold on to it."

He started to pull away, but she grabbed his shirt and held him.

"When will you come?" she asked.

"I hope it won't be more than a week," he said. "But I can't promise it won't be more."

Nathaniel pulled her up with him from the chair and kissed her soundly."You know I'll be there as soon as I can. We got that demonstration left unfinished, after all."

She nodded, her mouth pressed into a hard line, her eyes glittering.

He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her ring; then he smiled and was gone.

From the window, Elizabeth watched him walking down the lawn toward the river where the canoes waited. She could see the party gathered there, Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler, Anton Meerschaum, and Richard Todd. There was no sign of Bears, but she knew he would be outside her door.

Unable to watch anymore, she turned away and caught sight of the scrap of paper with her calculations. She grabbed it, along with aunt Merriweather's letter, and flew down the stairs with Runs-from-Bears right behind her. Her skirt fluttered as she ran across the lawns, her heart beating in her throat so that she feared she would not be able to speak even if she could catch them.

But they were still there, standing in front of the canoes. Nathaniel looked up to her and his face first cleared of anger and then closed in worry.

Richard Todd turned to Mrs. Schuyler. "She's to stay in the house."

Even in her distraction, Elizabeth took note of Mrs. Schuyler's expression, the combination of condescension and righteous indignation.

"Mrs. Bonner is our guest," she said. "Not a prisoner. And she has the freedom of Saratoga while she is with us."

Richard cleared his throat and looked away.

"As long as she's here when the court calls on her."

"If such a thing should be necessary," Mrs. Schuyler said tightly. "Which I doubt."

"Mr. Schuyler, you are an officer of the bank in Albany?" asked Elizabeth, ignoring Richard. When he nodded, she continued. "I have funds there, and I release them to my husband for withdrawal as he sees fit. This will be in order?"

"It will." His dark eyes were hooded again, but he smiled at her.

"Thank you." She turned to Nathaniel and tugged on his arm, to pull him off to where they could not be heard. Then she put the papers in his hand, aunt Merriweather's letter and her calculations. She pointed to one set of figures and then another, and looked up at him.

"There's not enough!" she whispered.

"I'll manage," he said. "Don't worry yourself Boots." He pulled her further aside. "There's the furs, don't forget."

"Then there'll be no money for supplies," she countered.

Nathaniel looked over her shoulder to where Richard waited. Runs-from-Bears stood to one side, alert.

"There's money enough," he said. "Leave this to me, can you?"

She nodded then, and because he was so close and because she could not do otherwise, in spite of their audience, in spite of the danger, she kissed him.

Put her hands on his shoulders and went up on her toes to kiss Nathaniel, to show him what she couldn't say, didn't know how to say: how much the idea of his going hurt, how proud she was of him, how much she loved him, that she would miss him. She was crying, because she didn't know how not to. Her tears wet his cheeks.