"Yes, indeed. But not until we returned the rig were we told that we owed another dollar each day for the use of the horse. A miserable animal I might add, prone to crow—hop."

Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Let me guess. That would have been Morgan Blake's livery on Black Creek."

The Frenchmen glanced at each other. "You see, Mr. Bonner. We require the assistance of a good guide, an informed man with experience, if we are to make a home for ourselves and our families."

"You do," Nathaniel agreed. "But I ain't the right man for that job."

"Can we not tempt you and your good lady with land? We have two hundred thousand acres of prime forest and pastureland, on the shores of LakeOntario—" Pharoux's enthusiasm rose as quickly as his temper.

"The survey is not complete," interrupted Desjardins. "But we have every reason to believe that the property is as it has been described to us. We call our settlement Castorland, for we are told that there is a great abundance of beaver. Would you not be interested in joining us to expand your holdings?"

Nathaniel felt van der Poole's attention focusing on him, waiting to see how he would react to this offer of yet more land, when he had just married into a thousand acres.

"We are well settled where we are," Nathaniel said. "I'm sure the judge can recommend a good man who's interested in going west."

The servant approached with a platter of beef, and Desjardins took generous portion. "We are on our way tomorrow to visit Mr. Schuyler at Saratoga. He has a guide in mind, I am told."

Elizabeth's eyes darted between the men; Nathaniel could almost see her thoughts, the questions rising like bubbles to the surface, but her cousin stepped in with a question before she could find a way to get started.

"Speaking of travel, when wilt thou return to Paradise?" Hench asked. "Perhaps I could travel with thee. I have a few days, and I would like to visit with the rest of the family there."

Nathaniel made it clear to Samuel Hench that he was more than welcome to accompany them to Paradise, if he had his own horse and cared to leave tomorrow.

"So soon?" asked the judge, sitting forward. "You've only been in Albany two days."

"We need to be at home," Nathaniel said. He shifted uncomfortably. Having called the afternoon's dream to mind, he could not easily put it away again.

"We have heard nothing yet of your travels through the bush, Mrs. Bonner."

Pharoux's fork clattered onto his plate. "You have traveled through the bush, madame?"

"Mrs. Bonner has been all the way to Canada and back again," the judge offered.

"But this is wonderful!" cried Desjardins. "My wife planned to stay behind because we heard that the journey was too arduous for women. But perhaps if you would speak to her, Mrs. Bonner—”

“I would tell her to stay with her children in Albany." Elizabeth's fingers strained white on the stem of her wineglass. "I would tell her to wait until you and your colleagues have made a suitable home for her."

Desjardins' face fell.

"It was difficult for thee then, cousin?" Samuel Hench's question was fueled by concern rather than bald curiosity, and in response the line of Elizabeth's jaw softened, and she lowered her chin.

"It was the most difficult and the most important experience of my life," she said. "I will never be the same again."

"I see thy mother in thy nature," Hench said with a distant smile. "In thee is the same combination of fire and ice that ruled her, and in the end caused her to leave the Life to join Alfred Middleton in the wilderness."

The room fell quiet at this, and he seemed to realize what he had said. He bowed his head.

"Pardon me, cousin. I am too familiar."

"No, not at all." Elizabeth's voice was hoarse. "My mother may have left the Friends to marry my father, but she stayed a Quaker in her heart. Enough so that I value the truth, and would not have you apologize for speaking it."

Judge van der Poole said, "Since we are speaking so plainly to one another, and have come to such an understanding, then perhaps Mrs. Bonner will satisfy my curiosity. I know I have not been very clever in disguising it. Jack Lingo has long been a problem to us all, and I would like to know if I can thank you for removing that particular thorn from my side. Will you tell us what happened to you?"

Nathaniel watched her over the edge of his wineglass. She might simply silence the judge with a withering look, but some part of him hoped that she would not. It would do her good, to tell this story in this small group of men who were ready and even eager to find favor with her. Maybe then she could be done with this business, finally. She sought out his gaze.

"Boots," he said, as if they were alone. "It's your story to tell."

And so she told it, slowly at first with hesitations that had all of the men in the room leaning forward, their eyes reflecting candlelight and curiosity. She searched out her words carefully, looking down into her lap at times with a small frown. At the worst of it, she crossed her arms across her belly and met Nathaniel's eye. When she was finished, there was a small silence. Even the servants seemed to be paralyzed, until the judge gestured for more wine.

"Mrs. Bonner," began Desjardins in a subdued voice. "You are an amazing woman, if I may say so. But there is one thing you have not told us, and if I do not ask I will always be curious."