Suddenly they were all awake, roused by the promise of one of Luke's packages. When the boy came again, Jennet touched the bulky parcel and closed her eyes.

“It ain't going to open itself,” Curiosity said, a little impatiently. “Go on, girl. We could use something to smile about just now.”

There were two letters, first of all. One Jennet handed to Elizabeth and the other she put carefully aside. Then a lumpy object wrapped in paper proved to be two brightly painted tops; those went to Elizabeth too, though Gabriel followed them with his eyes. Then came beautifully embroidered handkerchiefs, a small muslin bag of oddly smooth nuts, a box of nutmegs and curls of cinnamon bark, a large tin of cocoa that brought exclamations from Gabriel, a length of silk in a deep bright crimson and one of figured damask in blue-green, packets of tea, and at the bottom of the box, two soft packages wrapped in many layers of silk paper. Jennet took the first one in her lap.

“Oh, my,” said Sally as the paper fell away. A length of lace spilled over Jennet's lap to the floor.

“Lace,” said Curiosity, with a crackling satisfaction. “Fit for a bride.”

“Valenciennes lace,” added Elizabeth, catching one end in careful fingers to examine it more closely. “What workmanship, and look at the pattern. I have never seen the like.”

“The color suits your complexion just right,” Curiosity said. “That's a thoughtful man you got yourself, Jennet.”

“What's in the next one?” Sally asked.

“Some silk, maybe,” Curiosity said, as excited as a bride herself.

They all leaned forward as the paper was unwound and another length of lace came to light.

“It's not for me,” said Jennet, reading a piece of paper that had fallen into her lap. “It's for Lily. ‘A wedding gift,' it says.”

In the silence that followed they heard the men's voices in the hall. Lily, who had gone very pale, looked no one in the face. She said, “It is complicated.”

“I suppose it must be,” said Curiosity. “But we ain't slow, child. You tell us, and we'll ask questions when we get confused. Or maybe we should call in Simon. He's right good at putting things in words, I'll bet he can explain it.”

Gabriel, invigorated by the news, stood up as the hall door opened. “Da,” he called with all the energy of a boy bent on bringing down the roof. “Our Lily's getting married!”

In the doorway Nathaniel pulled up short, and then came into the kitchen slowly. Behind him were Runs-from-Bears and Ethan.

Lily touched the lace in her lap: a pattern of swirled petals and delicate leaves in a pale rose color. When she looked up she saw her father's face and her mother's, both of them slack with weariness and worry and yet watchful, as if a strange creature had walked into the room and they were not sure, quite yet, what to make of it.

Then Simon was there too, his expression so sober. Lily wanted him to smile, to make light of it all. To take away this question that hung in the air, almost visible: more than she could bear, now.

He said, “It is a matter that should wait, I think, until I come back from Nut Island.”

“From Montreal,” said Jennet. “When you come back from Montreal.”

All eyes turned to Jennet. Lily was so thankful to her cousin that she might have wept.

Jennet said, “It has been months since I've seen Luke. I would like to go to Montreal, just for a short visit. Since you are going that way anyway, Simon Ballentyne, you'll not refuse me, will you?”

Chapter 25

Luke Scott Bonner, Director

Forbes & Sons

Rue Bonsecours

Montreal

Dearest,

If you are the wise and thoughtful man I believe you to be, you will not strike out at the messenger who brings you this letter. Simon Ballentyne has done only as I compelled him to do. If he has taken my advice, you are reading this alone, and he will absent himself until you have had time to remember that if you must be angry, it should be at me, and me alone.

I am in Canada, with your sister Hannah. We are well; we have adequate shelter and food and are in no danger of our lives or persons. We are, as you will have guessed, on the Île aux Noix, or Nut Island. I will use the English, as the French name is far too exotic for such a rough jumble of blockhouses and barracks and parade grounds and boat works.

Sawatis and Runs-from-Bears are here, just returned from their short visit with you. Thus you know what brought us here, so let me give you the most important news straightaway: your brother and cousin are alive, if in some danger. It is for them we came, but it is only today that we are assured of the possibility of caring for them.

After three days of waiting, your sister was finally admitted to an audience with the garrison commander, a Colonel Caudebec, originally of Québec, a man unknown to Simon and thus I would guess to you as well. The colonel was at first affronted by your sister's temerity and then too harried to resist her persistent logic; he has granted us permission to come inside the garrison from sunrise to sunset every day, if we restrict ourselves to the stockade.

There are only two surgeons here, and they see to the needs of hundreds of the soldiers and sailors and militiamen who come through daily. And had they time, I doubt they would find their way into the stockade for fear of the smallpox, which has taken many lives in the past weeks.

Now I ask you to remember that I was vaccinated against the smallpox at the same time you were, by Hakim Ibrahim. Likewise are the rest of your family safe, for your sister saw to their vaccinations long ago, the summer that she interned at the Kine-Pox Institute in Manhattan.