Queen of Swords Page 84


Hannah closed her eyes and opened them again. Of course. Of course that would send someone with Noelle Soileau’s history into a frenzy. “She must have been out of her mind with grief.”

“Mostly it’s anger that moves Noelle,” Ben said. “But now you’ll see where it comes from. Titine got snatched up by Poiterin because of you and Jennet coming to New Orleans. Noelle put part of the blame on you. Maybe that seems unreasonable to you—”

“But we are partly to blame,” Hannah said.

“Even so, Noelle didn’t throw you out to die, not the way you think. She sent word to me, and I came to get you.”

Hannah let the silence spin out while she thought it all through.

She said, “There’s still Girl.”

“Yes,” Ben said. “There’s Girl. I can’t make any excuses for that, and I won’t. But I can tell you that whatever ill you wished on Honoré Poiterin, it’s nothing compared to what Noelle has put him through.”

“What did she do?” Hannah asked.

“She called in Maman Zuzu.”

Hannah stood and walked to the window. There was nothing to see in the courtyard except the darkened shape of the fountain. Without turning she said, “Tell me about this place he’s going tonight—”

“Le Tonneau. On the other side of the river, a half mile or so south. Pretty well hid.”

“Noelle arranged this.”

“She’s been working on getting him out of the city, yes. It took some handling, from what I hear.”

“And now it’s up to you to waylay him.”

“I’m not going alone.”

It all fit together, quite suddenly and with clarity. “My father.”

“And your uncle and your brother,” said Ben. “Between the four of us, we’ll put paid to the whole business.”

He was taking dry clothes down from the pegs on the wall. For a moment, Hannah watched him.

“Why does he need to be out of the city? Why couldn’t you go take him out of her place?”

Ben cast her a sidelong glance. “Because it can’t look like Noelle had anything to do with it. If there’s any suspicion of foul play on her part, the court will stop her from inheriting.”

“Inheriting?” The word caught in Hannah’s throat.

“Honoré Poiterin is as good as dead,” Ben said. “And Noelle Soileau is his wife.” He drew in a deep breath and let it go.

“His legal wife.” It wasn’t a question, but Ben nodded.

For a moment he seemed to be ready to tell her more, and then he shook his head. “I was hoping to spend the night, but I’ve got to go straightaway. Are you going to give me a kiss good-bye, or will I have to make do with a few fond words?”

Hannah went to him then. She put her hands on his chest and went up on tiptoe to kiss him.

“Is it true about tomorrow, about the battle that’s coming?”

“It’s true,” Ben said. He ran a hand over her hair. “I may not have time to come back here tonight. If that’s the case I’ll send somebody to fetch you to the field hospital. If you’re still willing.”

“I’m willing,” Hannah said. There were other things she wanted and needed to say, but she couldn’t bear the idea of raising the questions she had for him and then having him leave before they had time to talk it all through.

Instead she said, “You take care, Jean-Benoît Savard. You take good care. Don’t turn your back on Honoré Poiterin, or on the English army, either.”

Jennet showed up at her door shortly after Ben had left.

She said, “Can ye take Adam, please, afore I drop the puir wee thing on his heid.”

“I was about to come find you,” Hannah said. “I didn’t want to wait for word alone.”

The babies were quickly settled, side by side on Ben’s bed. Hannah stood for a moment considering the two of them, strong and healthy, full of promise. Adam, who had had such a difficult start, had been coddled and nursed to rounded surplus. His black hair curled prettily at his temples, and his skin glowed the shade of aged oak. He had a cleft in his chin that marked him as Honoré Poiterin’s child.

Beside her Jennet said, “I will do right by this boy, I swear it.”

Hannah thought of her brother, of her father and uncle and all the family at Lake in the Clouds who would have a hand in his raising and education. “We all will,” she said.

“Weel now,” Jennet said, as if coming out of a trance. “We’ll no be sleeping this night, so here’s my plan. I’m going to brave Clémentine’s kitchen and bring back tea and whatever else I can find, and then we’ll sit together, the twa of us, and I’ll read the cards. And I’ve got a question or two that Ben couldna take the time to answer when he came to fetch Luke. Will ye tell me what ye ken?”

“You get the tea,” Hannah said. “And I’ll provide what answers Ican.”

Chapter 62

“For my part,” Nathaniel Bonner said to nobody in particular, “I’d prefer six or seven feet of solid snow to this damp cold.”

He expected no response, and got none. The three other men in the canoe were thinking the same thing, with the exception of Ben Savard, who most probably had never seen a proper snowfall in his life.

The Mississippi was a fearsome river, muscular and stubborn, and no doubt many a less experienced party had found themselves dragged along until she spit them into the Gulf. But they were all at home in a canoe and familiar with the river, and they worked their paddles in rhythm and made the other side in good time.

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