Chapter
13

In the blackness of the hallway, Angelique crept up the ladder to her dormer room, praying the rungs wouldn’t squeak. She’d taken too long with Miriam’s care.

As she’d slipped into the inn, past the crowded dining room toward the back stairway, she’d held her breath, waiting for Ebenezer to step into the kitchen and stop her. But apparently he’d overstayed his time on the beach with the Indian women and wasn’t home to catch her sneaking in.

She fumbled in the dark to find the door latch, but stopped short when her fingers brushed against the metal hook dangling instead of locked snugly the way she’d left it that morning.

Her muscles tensed. Someone had gone into her room.

Though Ebenezer often clamored up and down the ladder into the attic for supplies, he always latched the door. Had one of the voyageurs snuck up into the dark corridor? Was someone waiting even as she climbed, ready to jump out on her as she made her way to her pallet?

She pushed at the trapdoor, then hesitated. She’d never had any trouble with a voyageur sneaking into the private quarters of the inn. Ebenezer insisted the men use the side stairway on the outside of the inn that led to the long bedroom above the dining area.

A sharp cry came from the direction of the room Betty shared with Ebenezer. Was the intruder attacking Betty? Angelique shuddered while slipping back down the ladder. She couldn’t let the poor girl suffer, not with the unborn child at risk too.

Angelique stumbled through the dark hallway, skimming her fingers along the wall until she brushed against the door handle. She paused and listened. The usual raucous laughter and loud voices of the men drinking and playing cards came from downstairs. The tobacco smoke from their pipes had filtered through the stickiness of the night and hung heavy in the air. Yet Betty’s room remained silent.

If only she had a weapon. Maybe she should return to the kitchen and find a knife. Or she could grab her ivory-handled comb in her room. The prongs were sharp.

She had started to spin toward the ladder when another of Betty’s cries stopped her. She didn’t have time to go for a weapon. Without another thought, she swung open the door and plunged into the darkened chamber. “Betty?” she called.

The slithering of sheets mingled with strangled panting.

Angelique squinted through the darkness at the bed. Betty lay alone, writhing and gripping her distended abdomen.

“I think it’s time to have the baby,” the girl moaned.

Angelique crossed the room to the edge of the bed. Her earlier fear was swept away by a new panic. “I’ll call for the midwife.”

Betty let out another sharp cry. “It . . . it might be too late for that.”

“What can I do?” Angelique knew almost nothing about birthing babies, and she dreaded what Ebenezer would do if she didn’t go find the midwife. His last wife had died in birthing. He certainly wouldn’t want Betty giving birth at Angelique’s inexperienced hands.

“I really should call for the midwife,” she said, her voice trembling as she searched the darkness for a lantern.

“If you’d been here earlier when I came looking for you, then you might have had time. Now it’s too late.”

So Betty had been the one to climb into the attic and had discovered her absence.

“I suppose you’re sneaking down to the beach to fornicate too,” Betty said bitterly.

“Never!” She’d noticed Betty’s growing sullenness over the past month. She’d seen the way Betty watched Ebenezer leave in the evenings, her young face tight with resentment. She could only imagine how difficult it was for the girl to learn about her husband’s unfaithfulness.

“Maybe you’re the one enticing my husband away from me.” Betty’s breath came in loud gasps. “I see the way he looks at you.”

“He does not look at me.” The very thought made Angelique shudder.

Betty gave a strangled cry. “I don’t know why he doesn’t get rid of you. You’re older than me. You should be married by now.”

“My betrothed was forced to leave the island and is now fighting in the war.” Angelique moved closer to the bed. “I’ll marry him when he comes back.”

“And what if he dies? What will you do then?”

Angelique couldn’t bear to think of that happening. She hadn’t let herself face such a horrible possibility and the bleak life she might have if Jean didn’t make it back. Even though men died in battle all the time, she knew Jean wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Betty’s tone rose with each breath. “Do you plan to stay here at the inn forever and tempt my husband?”

“I’m not tempting him.”

“If you weren’t here, then maybe he’d want to stay with me instead of having to leave all the time to avoid temptation.”

Angelique could only shake her head. The accusations were ridiculous and completely unfounded. How could Betty believe such a thing? Not when Angelique had tried hard to avoid being alluring like her mother and sister.

The young girl groaned and bent over, hugging her arms to her chest. In the dim light the window afforded, Angelique could see the sheets tangled in Betty’s legs and the dark stains from the blood she’d already lost.

Angelique smoothed her hand over the girl’s taut back.

“Don’t touch me,” Betty hissed as another contraction hit her.

“What can I do to help you?”

“You should have been here earlier to go for the midwife.”

“I’ll go now.” Angelique backed slowly toward the door.

Betty shook her head and began wailing.

Angelique stumbled over a discarded shoe and bumped against the edge of a chest. If only she hadn’t gone to see Miriam tonight. She’d known she was taking a risk by leaving the inn. But she’d taken risks all winter, and it had been several days since she’d visited Miriam.

As much as she wanted to deny she’d also gone to see Pierre, she knew she’d only be lying to herself. She’d always made excuses to see him or be with him, even as a girl. There was something reassuring about being near him, even if he was outside chopping wood while she cared for Miriam. His strong presence and the occasional glimpses of him comforted her.

And when he’d declared that he was going to stay for the rest of the summer, her chest had expanded with secret relief. She’d have at least two more months with him. Two whole months.

“Don’t think that I won’t tell my husband about your disobedience tonight,” Betty cried out.

Angelique didn’t try to defend herself. She was resigned to the fact that Ebenezer would punish her again, lock her in the attic without food, and make her repent of her sins. He’d do it even if it meant he had to get one of the Indian children living on the beach to do her duties. He paid the children with worthless trinkets, which cost him nothing.

“And this time,” Betty continued, “maybe he’ll finally decide to get rid of you.”

Angelique steadied herself and tried to drive away the growing worry over Betty’s accusations. Betty was only speaking irrationally out of her pain. She didn’t mean what she was saying. Once the birthing was over, surely she’d forget everything she said.

Besides, so long as Pierre was on the island, everything would be just fine. He would keep her safe. Even so, her heart clamored a warning, the warning that she needed to be more careful not to upset Betty or Ebenezer again. She couldn’t take any more chances.