Page 20 of The Winter Husband
“Do you hear yourself?” Cecile shook her head. “You broke the law and put yourself in jail! By my heart, this colony does strange things to people.”
Marie wasn’t sure she could blame her actions on the colony. The wildness was in her, long before.
“But look.” Cecile tapped the edge of Marie’s bowl. “You’ve been so busy talking, you haven’t taken a bite.”
“It smells wonderful.”
“It’s sagamité. I didn’t know when you two were coming, so this was the easiest thing to make.”
“Easy?” Marie tasted a gritty grain flavored with flakes of smoked fish and realized how very hungry she was. “This is delicious. You’ll have to teach me how to make it.”
“I don’t think we’ll have time.” Cecile dropped her gaze to the bowl she was scraping clean. “I can only stay the night.”
Marie’s hopes plummeted.
“The winter is coming.” Cecile shrugged, and the heavy roll of her hair wobbled at her nape. “Etienne and I can’t risk being trapped here by the river ice. An overland journey home in deep snows would be dangerous.”
Marie pushed down a wave of despondency. “Your husband is waiting, I suppose.”
Cecile’s lashes plummeted, and so did the tone of her voice. “He’s gone west, into the wild.”
Marie’s gasped. “Then stay! I’m sure Lucas would welcome the boy’s help. I would welcome yours. We can see the winter out together.”
Cecile shook her head, her throat tightening. “I have to be in Trois-Rivières in case my husband comes back.”
“Cecile—”
“I’m sorry Marie.” She put down her spoon. “I just can’t.”
Cecile’s voice sounded odd.
Something was wrong.
“But I won’t leave until I hear your story first.” Cecile mustered up an enthusiasm that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You have to tell me what happened in Paris. After Genny and I left to come here…and you stayed behind.”
Marie’s heart stopped.
Don’t ask.
Please.
“Oh, no.” Cecile’s voice softened. “I’ve been so worried, Marie. Not knowing how everything turned out for you.”
Marie ducked her head. It pinched to think if Marie had listened to Cecile’s wisdom a year ago and just agreed to be a King’s Daughter instead of wriggling out of the honor and going off on her own adventures…then she would have come to Quebec under different circumstances. Maybe still filled with regret, but at least not shackled.
“You were right, Ceci.” Marie scraped furrows through the sagamité. “You were right about absolutely everything.”
“I wished I’d been wrong, wrong, wrong.” Ceci’s lip quivered, but she bit it still. “I so wanted you to be happy.”
Marie’s ribs squeezed. She had to change the subject. “Tell me about this boy Etienne, this stepson who has become your heart’s delight. Is he like a son to you?” Marie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Does he take after your husband?”
“No, no.” Cecile leaned back in her chair, allowing the change in subject. “Like night and day, those two.”
“I wager that boy can’t give you half as much trouble as some of the twelve-year-old orphans back in Paris.”
“It’s not Etienne who’s the difficult one.” Cecile swept up her bowl and stood up to deposit the dirty dish in a basket by the door. “Fortunately, my husband is away from home often. If I’m lucky, it’ll be a long, long time before he comes back.”
Marie’s heart plummeted. An unhappy marriage, then. What else could be expected from a coupling made in haste? “What a pair we make, you and I.”
