Page 64 of The Winter Husband
“So it’s true.” Philippe took a sip straight out of the wine bottle. “You fell in love with her.”
Lucas turned his face away.
“It’s written all over her face, too.” Philippe kicked his mud-caked boots on the bed and tilted chair on the back two legs. “What a pair, you two.”
“We won’t be a pair for long. I want you to buy passage for her on a ship back to France.”
“I will not.” His dark eyes narrowed. “You’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t. She needs to go back to where she belongs.”Even if the thought of her leaving is a knife in my gut.“In Paris.”
“Keep shouting about sending your wife back to Paris and the news will soon reach Talon’s ears.” Philippe dropped his feet off the bed as his chair hit the floorboards. “There’ll be hell to pay, then—”
“I don’t give a damn about Talon.”
Philippe sighed hard. “Marie’s right. The fever has addled your mind.”
He had no fever, not anymore. And Philippe, a soldier himself, should understand more than anyone. “What would Fortin and Landry have done to Marie, if they’d killed me?”
“She would have shot one of them and fought the other tooth and nail.”
He shook his head. All the quills in the world wouldn’t have saved hisAnentaks.“She would have lost that fight, and you know it.”
“I’m not so sure.” Philippe gave him a skeptical eye. “You took a frightened girl into the wilderness and turned her into a frontierswoman—”
“If you won’t purchase a berth for her on my account, then I’ll do it once I get out of this place.”
“Damn it, Lucas.” The scar on Philippe’s face whitened. “That woman pulled a knife out of your back. She saved your life.”
“And I’m trying to save hers.”
“Tell me, then.” Philippe planted his elbows on his knees and surged forward. “How did you make it here to Quebec? How did you get to this hospital?”
“You found us.” The words had no sooner left his mouth before he doubted them. “Of course it was you. You were supposed to keep an eye on Landry and Fortin here in Quebec—”
“I did.”
“When they went missing, you followed.”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions, soldier.”
“You’re telling me it wasn’t you who came to the cabin and brought me here?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. I was sleeping comfortably in my home with mysixchildren—and yes, thank you for the congratulations on the recent birth of my son. Why was my mind so at ease, you ask? Because my men reported that Fortin and Landry were drinking merrily at the tavern, on the very night you were attacked. Imposters, as I recently came to know.” Philippe looked ready to take Lucas’s throat in his hands. “Sothink. You must remember something about how you got here.”
Lucas frowned, confused. Beyond the battle with the cousins, his memory was murky, everything was tangled, disconnected. She’d pulled the knife from his back. That was his last clear memory. Everything else was jumbled like a dream. Except for the rumble of birch bark under his cheek, the buck and roll of a canoe, and, most of all, the lull of a woman’s low, steady voice.
No.
It couldn’t be.
“Your wife saved your life twice, my friend. She isn’t someone who’s going to leave without a fight.” Philippe tossed the wine bladder so it landed on his chest. “When it comes down to a battle of wills between you two, my money is on Marie.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Marie!”
Marie turned toward the voice to see Etta waving as her friend walked down the hill from the upper town of Quebec. Etta’s four-month-old son Mathis curled in a sling around her body. The sight of the babe brought both a wave of warmth and a pinch to her heart.
