Promised to the Crown

“How shall we spend the day, my beautiful Madame Lefebvre?” Henri asked, his tone buoyant at the breakfast table. “I cannot bear to face a day of work on one of the last fine days of the year.”

Rose offered him a smile, pleased to see the furrow of worry absent from his brow. Their reserves were dwindling and they needed income. She knew it pressed on him, but she didn’t want to add to his burden by bringing up the subject overmuch. “As long as I spend the day with you, I’m happy to set aside my needlework for a spell.”

“I honestly don’t know how you ladies manage that awful stuff,” confessed Henri. “It looks so boring.”

“It’s knitting I loathe,” Rose said. “But I’ve always been partial to embroidery. It’s refreshing, in a way.”

“I suppose I can see that,” he said. “I feel the same way about riding. I’d sooner go without my arm than my horse.”

“Will we be able to keep him?” Rose asked. “I imagine it’s expensive.. . .”

“Never fear, darling, Abraxas is safe. Uncle Alexandre will keep him in hay for us if the need arises.” Rose nodded her approval. The palomino gelding was a source of pride and pleasure for Henri and she hated the idea of seeing them separated.

“He’s a good man,” Rose said.

“That he is,” Henri said, a grin appearing on his lips. “And, what’s more, he hates my father, so my disinheritance infuriates him.”

“Why does he hate your father so?”

“It began as nothing more than the second son’s resentment of his older brother,” Henri said. “But Grandfather was so determined to keep his estate in one piece that he left Alexandre with nothing other than his God-given wit. Thankfully, he has plenty of that.”

“That he does,” Rose said. “How unfeeling of your grandfather not to leave something for his son.”

“To make matters worse, Alexandre is thirteen years my father’s junior. He was still at university when Grandfather died,” Henri said. “Had Grandmother not insisted, I’m sure Father would have pulled his funding.”

“You honestly think so?” Rose asked. “How terrible.”

“I would not put such a thing beyond my father’s capabilities,” Henri said. “He is more concerned about money than any man I ever met. My brother, Lionel, is just like him. I think, ultimately, Father would rather leave the estate to Lionel. I have always been too independent, too adventurous with my money, for Father’s liking.”

“I’m so sorry, Henri,” Rose said. “There is no way he would change his mind?”

“I doubt it,” Henri said. “And in my heart of hearts, I’m glad. We would have had to return to France when he died, and I much prefer the freedom here. France stifles me.”

“I’m sorry it was all because of me,” Rose said. “I don’t want our marriage to be the cause of discord.”

“It makes no difference,” Henri said. “You are worth a dozen fortunes.”

“You flatterer.” She gave him a playfully scornful look. “The sad part is that if they knew who my family was, they probably would have approved of me.”

“Which lends credence to my idea that he was looking for reasons to disinherit me,” Henri said. “I am out from under my father’s thumb, and it doesn’t suit him, but it suits me well. Don’t think any more on it.”

“I agree, not today. Not while the autumn sun shines.”

“Indeed, Madame Lefebvre,” Henri said. “We should spend the day out-of-doors. A picnic. I know just the spot.”

“That sounds wonderful.” Rose shared her husband’s love of the mountains and woods of Quebec. After three years of clean air in New France, the thought of returning to Paris, even without the confinement of the Salpêtrière, sent Rose into a cold sweat.

Agathe was given orders to prepare a basket with the finest lunch she could procure, and the couple took off, both mounted on Abraxas rather than bothering to hitch the horse to their small open carriage. Abraxas was a massive horse, with a thick golden coat well suited to the climate. He bore the extra passenger with ease and seemed elated with the chance to exercise his legs in the fine weather.

“Here we are,” Henri said.

“I can see why you love to ride,” Rose said, rubbing the horse’s nose and offering him an apple from the picnic basket. “Abraxas is such a sweet animal.”

“Best horse I’ve ever ridden,” Henri said, patting the gelding’s golden shoulder. Turning to his wife, he asked, “What do you think of the view?”

They stood in a large clearing that allowed a view of the Saint Lawrence to the south. Mountains loomed to the north and east. The odor of the evergreens wafted heavy in her nose. “It’s stunning,” Rose said, setting out a blanket on the grassy field. “How did you find this place?”

“It’s ours. Or will be. This is part of Uncle’s estate. He will rent this to us and he’s agreed to make some vast improvements to the existing farmhouse, just there.” He pointed to a small, but sturdy-looking stone building off in the distance. “It will be infinitely cheaper than our place in town. It won’t be a luxurious life, but it will be a comfortable one. If you consent, of course.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Rose said, looking up as she set out Agathe’s inviting dishes. “Do you think you could be happy as a farmer?”

“I wasn’t made for manual labor, I admit,” Henri said, as he took a seat on the blanket. “I will help manage Uncle’s lands on-site and make sure that the tenant farmers do their part for us and us for them. Like most of the seigneurs, Uncle prefers to live in town, but knows the absence of the seigneur does not inspire the farmers to hard work. Between Uncle and me, we’ll have the most successful estate in all of New France.”

“And you hope they’ll make you a seigneur as well,” Rose speculated.

“Well done,” he answered. “It will probably be several years before the governor thinks of me, but my uncle’s influence can’t hurt.”

“I imagine not,” Rose said. “Is this what you want?”

“Without question. To make my own way without my father trying to control every aspect of my life? It’s what I’ve always dreamed of.”

“Then how could I object?” Rose asked, looking over the landscape. “I would love nothing more.”

Rose looked out at the vast expanse of land and admired the stately mountains and proud pines. They would make for lovely scenery in the coming years. Whether they could provide equally good companionship was a thing far less certain.

The plans for their removal to the estate took time. They would need a crew to renovate the old farmhouse and to make their plot of land welcoming. Their plot of land was small, with the majority reserved for the tenant farmers. The terrain was too precious to be wasted for anything other than cultivation. Henri decided it would be the following spring before they took residence—perhaps summer, if luck was not on their side. Rose feigned indifference to the delays, but was happy with anything that prolonged their removal to the country.

“You aren’t too unhappy to leave town, are you?” Henri asked one night as they snuggled in each other’s arms in the moments before sleep. Tonight was one of the nights where his closeness was comforting rather than stifling.

“No,” Rose answered, idly tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. “Though I will be sad to be so far from Nicole and Elisabeth. I’ll miss them terribly.”

Henri kissed his wife’s forehead. “The distance isn’t all that great.”

“With household duties and winter weather, our visits won’t be frequent,” Rose said. “But one cannot have sweetness in life without sacrifice. I’ll manage, darling. Don’t fret for me.”

“Fretting about you is one of my fondest pastimes,” Henri said with a teasing grin. “You wouldn’t deny me the pleasure.”

“No,” Rose said. “I’ve denied you all the pleasure I ever plan to.”

“That’s what a man likes to hear,” he said.

A few weeks later, Rose sat in her favorite chair by the window, embroidering frills on a small dress.

“And what has my lady so engrossed?” Henri asked, startling his wife, who shrieked at the unexpected sound of his voice.

“Heavens, you scared me,” Rose said. “Just my sewing.”

“Remind me to wear a bell ’round my neck like a cow for the next time you sit transfixed with your fancy work,” Henri said. “I was in the room for a full three minutes at least.”

“I get absorbed, that’s all,” Rose said.

“Well, wake yourself from your reverie for a few moments,” Henri said. “We’re going for a walk.”

“It’s rather chilly for a stroll.” She looked out to see the limbs of the evergreens swaying in the bitter September breeze that had settled in overnight.

“We won’t be out long,” Henri said. “Come, I’ve something to show you.”

Seeing the excitement, near giddiness, on her husband’s face, Rose could not bring herself to object, no matter how comfortable her seat nor how warm the fire.

They walked to the stables, not far from the house, where Henri lodged Abraxas. A sturdy-looking mare, not advanced in years but old enough to have mellowed, stood in the stall beside Henri’s beloved horse. She had Abraxas’s shining golden coat, but stood two or three hands shorter.

“This is Amethea,” Henri said. “Abraxas’s sister. I thought she would be perfect for you.”

“She’s gorgeous,” Rose said, nuzzling the horse’s soft nose with her own. “But can we afford her with all that is going on?”

“It’s a necessary expense,” Henri said. “You’ll need a sound horse of your own when we move out of town. Getting her now allows you time to learn to ride.”

“Thank you so much,” Rose said, sliding into her husband’s embrace. “She’s wonderful.”

“You have to promise to ride her faithfully,” Henri said. “Horses need exercise.”

“I’m not sure it’s the best idea in my current condition,” Rose said, moving his hand to her belly. “We wouldn’t want to risk the health of your future heir.”

It took a few moments for Henri to comprehend her meaning, but then he lifted her into his arms.

“No, we most certainly don’t. We”—He twirled Rose once gently and placed her back on firm ground. “We’ll find a stable boy. Borrow Pascal Giroux when he needs a break from the bakery.

“How far along?” He cleared his throat against the threatening tears and kissed her cheeks softly.

“Not more than two months. Early days yet.” Rose smiled up at her husband, biting her lip at the sight of his feeble attempts to keep his tears at bay.

“Promise me you’ll rest, my sweet one. Promise me you’ll have the servants attend to whatever it is you need. I’ll hire you a maid if we need to.” His embrace was gentler than usual, already protective of the new life they were responsible for. Rose knew Henri was eager for a family, but he’d refrained from discussing it since the early days of their marriage. At first, her reluctance to join him in his bed made the topic unnecessary and painful. Later, her revelations about her uncle must have made him nervous to press her about any aspect of intimate life. Rose tightened her arms around him, grateful that he’d tempered his enthusiasm and happy she could finally give that measure of happiness back to him.

“I think I’ll be able to manage as we are, darling.” The cost of a personal maid couldn’t be borne for years yet, as much as Henri wanted to give her that luxury. “But I promise I’ll take care of this little one as best I can.”

“Thank you, my love.” Henri finally gave in to the tears and let them spill down his cheeks as he held Rose against him.

“I’m just sorry it was such a long road to get here.” Rose reached up and kissed his cheek, oblivious to the passersby who might see the display.

“But we got here, my dearest wife, and that’s all that matters to me.”

The following afternoon, Rose took her usual seat in Nicole’s parlor, armed with her sewing. Though only a few stitches from complete, she brought the small gown she’d been working on the previous day.

“I’ve never seen you take such pains for a baby gown,” Elisabeth said, taking her eyes from the star-patterned quilt she had fashioned from odd scraps.

“I thought I’d make a special effort this time around,” Rose said, not looking up from her work.

“I’ve heard the Laurier woman is expecting again,” Nicole said, her knitting needles not missing a beat. “I know you were there for her last time. Has she asked you to come again?”

“No,” Rose said. “My days of midwifery are over. Unless either of you need me, of course.”

“Rose—are you?” Elisabeth’s voice betrayed her reluctance to broach the subject. God knows they probably think Henri and I can’t have children by now.

“Yes,” Rose said, looking up at her friends with a soft smile. They’ll never know what our troubles were. Let them think it was just a problem of nature and not my reluctance to be a proper wife.

The trio stood and embraced, not without a few tears.

“Oh, I am so happy for you!” Nicole exclaimed. “Our babies will be such dear friends.”

“Let’s hope so,” Rose said. “I don’t know what I’d do without either of you. What I will do without you when I am out on the estate, for that matter.”

“It’s not that far,” Nicole said. “We’ll be together all the time.”

“You sound like your nephew-in-law,” Rose chided. “You’re a mother and a wife. You know that can’t be.”

“Well, niece-in-law, I promise we’ll make an effort,” Nicole said, taking Rose in her arms. “And you will stay here when the baby is born. If you need a doctor it will make things far less complicated.”

Rose exhaled. The realities of the birth hadn’t even registered with her. The baby would arrive in spring at least, so she wouldn’t have to contend with winter storms preventing her from getting to town. Henri would agree to stay with his uncle for a month or so. He would not prevent her from doing so, in any case.

“Thank you, dearest aunt-in-law,” Rose said, kissing Nicole on the cheek.

“Merciful heavens, that makes me sound old,” Nicole said with an uncharacteristic giggle.

“Baby clothes,” Elisabeth declared, reclaiming her seat. “You’ll have baby Lefebvre outfitted before the afternoon is out.”

For the next hour, Nicole spoke of her early days mothering Hélène in the convent. Elisabeth spoke of her baby’s impending arrival. Rose chimed in on occasion, smiled, kept up with her sewing. All the while it sank in that she was wholly unprepared for the enormous task that lay before her.

Childbirth still terrified her, but less so. On a daily basis, she saw women walking about the settlement, babes in arms, no worse for their toils. But in seven months, an innocent life would look to her for love, comfort, and protection. She was confident in her ability to provide the first two. The latter caused her worry. Her uncle had also sworn to protect her when she was twelve years old.

She found herself gripping her needle and gown too tightly, causing a cramp in her forefinger and wrinkles in the fabric. She set the handiwork down on her lap, and focused on the prattle of her two dearest friends. Focused on their words of love. Nicole mothered two lovely girls. Elisabeth fostered the young Giroux boy and would soon welcome her own child. Despite Elisabeth’s losses, she seemed calm. Nicole didn’t seem wrought with worry as her needles clack-clack-clacked together, a soft wool blanket forming beneath them. Inch by inch, Rose willed her muscles to unwind, her breath to deepen.

She would be a mother. The choice was no longer hers. The best gift she could give her child was a mother with the courage to face the cruel world he or she would inherit. Would that I could have your courage, ladies, but I suppose I must find my own.

Rose designated the small bedroom next to their own as “baby’s room.” Rose knew it was ridiculous, as they would be long removed from the cozy town house before the baby’s arrival. Every bird needs her nest, she told herself. For weeks she tidied the space, filled it with the dozen baby gowns she and her companions had crafted in the space of an afternoon, and prepared it for the little bundle she found herself longing to hold.

Henri smiled at his wife’s antics, but said nothing. Rose suspected he thought her over-eager to welcome their child into the world—something he could not fault in his beloved wife.

But he didn’t see the scrubbing.

She took pains to keep her hands from cracking and bleeding. She made sure Agathe never noticed her labors. In fact, she forbade either servant from disturbing the space unless their duties demanded it. She spent more time in the nursery that would never house her child than in any other room in the house.

The more time passed, the more she dreaded leaving their home for the far-flung estate. She would miss her friends, miss the comfort and society of the town, and she would lose this haven she had created for their child. The small corner of the world where she felt certain she could keep her sweet child safe from all the perils that lay beyond its doors.