Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry (42 page)

Before she arrived, Jean Michel had given up all hope of finding someone to love. Women of dignity and education didn't venture onto the frontier. Then, like a miracle, there she was standing next to him, shooting a musket on the wall of the fort with that fiery blend of frontier independence and patrician gentility. He could wait no longer. He had to get back to her, and he must leave immediately.

Suddenly he remembered
Elizabeth
. He had been home for days recuperating and attending to business, and never once made an effort to call on her. Of all of the reasons to return home, the most pressing and the most painful was breaking his ties with her. Before he could return to Darcy and give of himself heart and soul, he must complete this final errand.

It took another day for Jean Michel to put his affairs in order, and he worked at a feverish pace meeting with his tenants and caretakers, answering questions and attending to details. It seemed like an eternity before he could begin the journey back to
Fort
Lawrence
.

Upkeep of the sprawling timber frame home was not the only responsibility which prevented Jean Michel from leaving immediately. The vast landholdings of the family needed constant attention. From the very beginning these affairs dominated a huge amount of his time, and he accepted surveys not for the money but as an excuse to escape the tedious nature of business and venture into the vast wilderness, which he loved.

The home had been built by his parents many years ago, when the sawmill had opened, and it was a large multi-gabled structure, which loomed over the
Piscatqua
River
. The dark lap siding had been exposed to the harsh northern elements for years now, but with Jean Michel's meticulous care, it had survived. Several chimneys reached up from the steep roof, and they warmed the many rooms of the home, but the element which revealed the vast wealth of the Lupe's was the large number of windows gracing every gable. Light flooded every room and illuminated the richly decorated interior. Jean Michel's mother had insisted that the furnishings be of the finest quality but never ostentatious.

Even with all this luxury, Jean Michel did not feel at home. He was happiest when he roamed the vast interior and slept atop a cliff under the stars. Deep in the heart of Etienne had been that same wanderlust, and when he coupled it with his great love for God, the Jesuits became his true calling.

This wanderlust had been passed down to them by their father who could never be bounded by four walls. It had caused great pain to Jean Michel's mother, and this was one of the reasons Jean Michel would never marry Elizabeth Campbell. She would be just like his mother, living her life all alone in an empty house.

He finally sent a note requesting permission to call on Elizabeth one warm summer evening, and when he rode up to her home, he saw her standing by the door waiting for him.

Jean Michel was sincerely happy to see
Elizabeth
, and he dismounted, kissing her gently on the lips. She was indeed lovely, he thought, tall with a slim body curving gently under the rich blue taffeta dress, smelling of sweet lavender. Her straight blonde hair was pulled up behind her head, and her blue eyes gazed on him serenely. What Jean Michel had always found the most attractive about
Elizabeth
was her full sensuous mouth. He used to love to kiss her lips, but this time they seemed cold and lifeless.

Over dinner he was preoccupied with thoughts of Darcy. He found himself comparing the two women. The more he indulged in this pastime, the more restless he became. Sitting at the dining room table with
Elizabeth
, he felt like a fraud, yet he could not seem to find the right time to tell her the truth.

He knew
Elizabeth
was willing to do anything for him. She would never dream of contradicting his wishes, but Jean Michel wanted a woman with her own mind and her own soul. He wanted someone with whom he could write a destiny.

Elizabeth
took a sip of wine and asked, "Why did you take so long before coming to see me, Jean Michel? In the past, you always rushed into my arms the minute you returned home."

He knew he should tell her of his love for Darcy, but he choked on the words. So he steered the conversation to lighter subjects.

After supper, they walked arm in arm along the river as twilight fell. For nine years they had walked here in the evening together.

Jean Michel had always found it peaceful and relaxing, but tonight he was anxious. When he looked down at
Elizabeth
, she would smile back serenely, every hair in place.

He could never imagine her racing through the woods with a child on her back or dancing lustily in the torchlight. True, she was capable of bearing him many healthy children, but she was too fragile and vulnerable to live life by his side. She had never left this valley, never tasted life and never suffered a day in her life.

Suddenly, she put her arms up around his neck, pressing against him. "Why haven't you kissed me yet, Jean Michel? You are acting very mysterious this evening." She kissed him and Jean Michel pushed away gently and said, "I cannot!"

"Why? What is wrong with you this evening?” she asked. “There should be no secrets between us. We have been lovers for years.

Shaking his head, Jean Michel sighed and said, “That is precisely the problem. We have never been lovers--rather I have not loved--," and he broke off.

Elizabeth
stood motionless waiting for him to finish. A light breeze off the river blew her hair gently. She bit her lip a moment and then said, "I am no fool, Jean Michel. I know you have never loved
me.
”

"Oh,
Elizabeth
," he said at last, taking her hands, "dear, devoted
Elizabeth
. I would probably be better off with you, but I love another, and if she still lives, I must spend my life with her."

Her eyes filled with tears and she said, "I thought," and she stifled a sob, "I thought we had an understanding, Jean Michel?"

"I can honor it no longer. I am truly sorry,
Elizabeth
."

He walked slowly up toward the house and mounted his horse. He looked back at her, as she stood by the river. Jean Michel knew that
Elizabeth
would always be waiting for him, and he knew in his heart that he would never return.

*
   
*
   
*

Jean Michel was scheduled to depart for
Fort
Lawrence
the following morning, and as he was cleaning his musket on the front steps, he noticed a rider approaching. It was John Bartholomew, his caretaker.

"Hello, John! Come to see me off?" he called.

  
John did not smile as he rode up, and before his horse had stopped completely, he dismounted and ran up to Jean Michel.

"
Fort
Lawrence
has fallen!” he said, panting. “You cannot go up north, Jean Michel. The French and Abenaki are everywhere."

Jean Michel felt sick. "How many dead? What do you know?

"I know very little. Colonel Lawrence and some of the others are at
Fort
Pepperell
."

"Is there a woman with
Lawrence
?" asked Jean Michel anxiously.

"No, why?'

Without answering, Jean Michel jumped onto his horse and tore down the road headed for
Fort
Pepperell
. He sped along the path, splashing along the muddy riverbank, and when he arrived at the fort several officers greeting him.

"Where's Colonel Lawrence?" he asked, as one of the regulars took his horse.

"He's in there, in a meeting with his officers, but I wouldn't--"

Jean Michel swept past them, and threw the door open with a bang. Nathan Lawrence was sitting at a desk, examining some maps with his officers, and in three large strides Jean Michel was upon him, grabbing him by the lapels and lifting him out of his chair.

"Where is she?"

Lawrence
stared at him with his mouth open, stunned. Instantly, the officers jumped on Jean Michel, tearing him away from the colonel and restraining him.
Lawrence
barked, "What in God's name is this man doing here? He's under arrest!"

"My escorts met up with some friends," sneered Jean Michel. "Now tell me where she is!"

Nathan studied Jean Michel for a moment and said to his men, "Let him go."

The soldiers dropped his arms and stepped back.

"I want to be done with you once and for all, Lupe'," growled
Lawrence
. "The woman's gone. She's been ransomed by the French. They wish an exorbitant price; one which I shall not pay. If you can pay it, she’s yours. She's far too much trouble.

"Was she harmed?"

"I wouldn't think so. Not if they were planning on selling her back to me."

Jean Michel said, "I need to speak with you in private, Lawrence.

Nathan‘s eyes narrowed, he thought a moment, then he gestured for his men to leave.

Jean Michel came right to the point, "I must ask a favor of you."

Nathan looked surprised then laughed disdainfully. "You are hardly in a position to be asking anything of me, Lupe'."

"I will pay the French their ransom, and after that I shall give Darcy her freedom, but I wish to do this in your name only. I do not want Miss McBride to know that I ransomed her. She must not feel that she owes me anything. I want her to come to me of her own free will."

Nathan stared in disbelief at Jean Michel then said, "My God, man! You're really in love with her!" and he threw his head back and started to laugh.
Lawrence
had always assumed that Jean Michel's motives were similar to his own. He had no idea it went beyond lust.

He shook his head and said good-naturedly, "I can't say that I blame you, Lupe'. She is a fascinating woman.”

He sat down at his desk and nodded. "You may use my name, but it may be too late. I have already sent my refusal. She could be anywhere now." He scrawled a few words on a note, signed his name and handed it to Jean Michel, "That says you are representing my interests. I wish you luck. You will need it."

Jean Michel returned home immediately. All his money was tied up in banks in
Boston
and
London
, and frantically he tried to think of a way that he could obtain money for Darcy's ransom without wasting precious time on a trip to the south. If he did go to
Boston
, Darcy might slip through his hands forever.

He returned home and walked immediately to the cupboard, pouring himself a stiff drink. The news of Darcy's capture had unnerved him, and it now was clear why he had been uneasy. He stared out the window, knowing that it was likely he might never see her again. They could take her anywhere, from
Quebec
to the deep interior, and she could be swallowed up in the wilderness forever.

Nevertheless, he must find her even if he had to search for the rest of his life.

He could see her face as clearly as if she were standing before him at this moment--the fine Celtic bone structure, the light skin and those eyes the color of emeralds. Suddenly it occurred to Jean Michel how he could buy Darcy's release and never have to travel to
Boston
.

He dashed up the stairs two at a time and bolted into his mother's room. Opening her delicate writing desk, he began running his hands over the smooth, highly polished wood, looking for a catch. He stopped, pushed a small lever, and a door previously invisible opened in the back of the desk. He pulled out a drawer, and there lying in a velvet-lined box, was an exquisite emerald necklace which had belonged to his mother. After her death, he had taken her jewels to
Boston
, but he had overlooked this piece, and now his mistake had served him well.