Sophie's Treason. Beverley Boissery

Sophie's Treason - Beverley Boissery


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mama and do what you tell me to do when he sent us off to Beauharnois. I know he gave you that piece of paper to show the guards at the border when we left Vermont. I saw it. It said you had his permission to bring me here.”

      Lady Theo sighed. “Had, Sophie. That’s the problem. I had it … but I don’t have it now. I don’t know where it is. I didn’t have it on me when we were captured. I was in my nightclothes, remember? I did send someone, a couple of weeks ago, to search the manor house for it, but they couldn’t find anything. I sent another messenger down to New York hoping that he could catch up with Edward and Jane. It was too late. They had already left for England. I’ve written to Edward in London, but it will be months before I get an answer. Even then it may well be that Edward is tired of being involved in our affairs and won’t help.”

      Sophie was startled to see tears in Lady Theo’s eyes. Both she and Luc waited motionless while she dabbed them away, “At the very least, I’m hoping he will send back an official affidavit confirming that your papa gave me temporary custody of you. Of course, all this becomes irrelevant once we find Benjamin. I’m sure we’ll have him out of prison before we can hear anything from London. In the meantime, if your brother wanted to take you now, I don’t know how I could stop him.”

      “Papa put me in your care and if a judge doesn’t understand that, he’s stupid,” Sophie muttered resentfully. She stared at the intricate red and gold pattern of the Bokkara rug on the floor in front of the fire, then stood and faced Lady Theo. “I will not go back to Malloryville without you or Papa. I don’t care what any judge says. I won’t go back. If Bart tries to kidnap me, I’ll scream and say he was a rebel or something. I’ll tell on him. He’s the one who got Papa into trouble.”

      Both Luc and Lady Theo looked at her. “What do you mean?” Luc asked.

      Sophie shrugged. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. He and Clart are always doing things that don’t work. When I was little, Papa was always getting them out of trouble. I bet they’re involved in this.”

      “Marc is something like that,” Luc put in. “Sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop. He keeps going and going until he’s gone too far. Not always,” he qualified. “Just sometimes.”

      Sophie opened her mouth to say something, but Lady Theo held up her hand. “Tell me later. I still have to meet the lawyer this afternoon. However, in the meantime, I want you both to be very careful if you see a limping man around. Sophie, I meant what I said earlier about trust. We have to trust each other. Maybe I should have told you why I didn’t want you leaving the house today, but I didn’t want to add to your worries. Now you know.”

      “I’m sorry,” Sophie said as she kissed Lady Theo’s cheek. “I should have realized you had a good reason. But I thought no one would be with Luc, so I had to go.”

      “I’ll do my best to be with him tomorrow, but I also have to deal with the lawyers. Things were difficult already without the complication of Bart.”

      “I don’t need anybody to go with me to court,” Luc muttered. “I’m not a baby.”

      “No, you’re not,” Lady Theo answered. “In fact, if you will agree to two conditions, I’ll entrust Sophie to you tomorrow.”

      Luc immediately straightened his shoulders and Sophie could see that Lady Theo had managed to give him back his pride. His voice sounded confident as he said, “I’ll do whatever you ask, my lady.”

      “Well, three things, actually. From what I’ve been able to discover, the Montreal police aren’t looking for you. They have their hands full with the seven hundred men already in jail. As long as you’re careful and don’t look for trouble, I don’t think trouble will find you. But you must keep a better guard on your tongue, Luc. You need to appear uninvolved, particularly if I’m to vouch for you. The lawyer and I are working on getting permission for you to visit the jail after the trial to see your brother. So, watch yourself in the courtroom, please.”

      “Agreed,” Luc answered in a voice that cracked, and Sophie guessed he realised that Lady Theo was again gently warning him that Marc would probably be hanged.

      “Second,” she went on in a much brisker voice. “You must allow John Coachman to go with you and you must stay with him the entire time. I need to have your word that you won’t try to run away from him.”

      “Agreed,” Luc said again. “And the third thing?”

      “You must protect Sophie. I’m worried about Bart coming here to the house. John Coachman thought he was spying out the lay of the land, so to speak. So, Luc, do I have your promise?”

      Luc looked outraged. “You had no need to make that a condition, Lady Theo. It’s like you said earlier. About trust. You should know by now that I’ll do whatever it takes to protect Sophie. Always.”

      “I can protect myself,” Sophie interjected.

      Both Luc and Lady Theo ignored her and just nodded at each other. As Lady Theo turned to leave the room, Luc gave her a quick hug. “Thank you for your care of us,” he said. “I know neither of us deserves it, but thank you anyway.”

      Sophie kissed Lady Theo goodbye. Luc gave her a quick peck on the cheek as well, then grinned. “There’s one more thing,” he said. “Something to keep our spirits up. Marc’s got a crackerjack defence. I listened carefully to what they charged him with, and I think he’ll get off, because he didn’t do what they said he did.”

       The Loon felt stronger the next time the Englishman with the boots came to see him.

       His head no longer ached as badly, and he had become accustomed to the constant darkness. He knew by now there were bandages over his eyes, and although they were changed daily, it was only done at nighttime.

       He wondered why the nuns were so careful about this. Four of them were responsible for his care. Sisters Marie-Josephte and Celeste during the day; Jeanne-Thèrese and Ursuline at night. He had learned a lot about them.

       Sister Celeste, who didn’t speak English, was the most gentle. When she changed the bandages, she didn’t pull the scabs off. She soothed his face and gently massaged the pins and needles out of his legs. She, more than any of the others, always untied his arms while she worked.

       Judging by the clicking of beads, Sister Ursuline was the most devout. Sometimes he lay awake, terrified, and only the soft sound of her rosary reassured him that someday things would be right in his world. Without ever saying a word, she was the one who gave him the most hope.

       Sister Mary-Josephte was the most curious. She wanted to know all about him. His name, where he had come from, how he had become so badly injured. He got tired of saying, “I don’t know,” to everything. Sometimes he answered, “Je ne sais pas.” The fact that he knew a little French puzzled both of them.

       He often wondered if she believed him, if she had any idea of the enormity of what he didn’t know. He thought she was beginning to understand that he was speaking the truth and that he really could not answer her questions. She was always present when the Englishman came but he thought she stayed for his protection rather than to satisfy her curiosity. “Finis!” she’d say and the Englishman accepted her authority and walked away.

       One afternoon he caught Sister Marie-Josephte by surprise. “Ask me about loons, if you want me to tell you something,” he told her.

       “About loons? The birds?”

       “Oui, soeur. I can tell you about their beauty, about the moment they enter the water from the air, about sitting by a lake at dusk and listening to their cries. About how they mate.”

       She let him talk, both of them amazed at the torrent of words that poured out. When they ebbed, she asked softly, “And, monsieur, where is this lake?”

      


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