Ben said, “Poiterin taking off before they could arrest him, is that what you mean?”

“I figured that’s what you were aiming for,” Luke said.

“Not exactly,” said Ben. His left hand tightened on Hannah’s knee and then relaxed. He said, “You’ll have to wait a little longer to see how things go with Poiterin.”

“How things go?” Jennet said, a little sharply. “You think he’ll be back?” Her color rose quickly, anger like a fever in the blood.

Ben turned all his attention to her. He said, “No. You’ll never have to deal with the man again. I can promise you that.”

Runs-from-Bears made a sound deep in his throat, one of approval.

In Ben’s apartment that evening Hannah stripped down to her chemise and took a brush to her hair, but she was so tired that she found it hard to lift her arm. Ben sat on a stool, pulling off his moccasins.

“I want you to know,” Ben said, “that if Wyndham dies, it won’t be by my hand.”

Any response that Hannah gave to this declaration would have been the start of a long conversation, and she was far too weary for anything of the kind.

Ben said, “You want to know about Poiterin?”

She had been hoping that he wouldn’t offer to tell her. “I am doing my best not to think about Poiterin.”

Ben got up and came to stand behind her. He radiated heat like a hearth.

“You spend a lot of time trying not to think about things,” he said. His hands settled on her shoulders and then slid down her back to close around her waist. She shivered at the touch of his mouth on her neck.

“Is that wrong?” she asked, a little breathless.

“It makes it hard sometimes,” Ben said. “I don’t know how much to tell you.”

She turned to look at him.

“Tell me, then, if you must.”

His expression was so serious that she could hardly bear to look at him. The urge to run away from whatever it was he had to say was so strong that she shook with it.

Ben cleared his throat. “If you really want to know, here it is: Your uncle has replaced me in Henry’s affections.”

She struck him with the flat of her hand and tried to pull away, but his embrace was unyielding, and she didn’t really want him to let go anyway.

“Jealous?” Hannah said.

“It won’t last long,” Ben said. He pulled her across the room and tucked her under the blankets, but still Hannah shivered. Whether it was the cold or those words won’t last long, she wasn’t sure. What she did know was that Ben was taking every opportunity to remind her that this was all temporary. The battle for the city would end, and the Bonners would go back to the endless forests. She would go back to Paradise and Lake in the Clouds, and take up the practice of medicine, resume her life. Her good life, among her family and friends. There would be babies to deliver and sore ears to treat, swollen joints and fevers and the aches and pains of the elderly. Her brother, who had still not healed from his wounds and was in constant pain. The new baby, and Gabriel, and Lily in Montreal with her new husband. Curiosity, who had stories to tell her.

Within days or weeks they would be on their way, and she could feel nothing but fear.

It would be nonsensical to be angry at Ben for speaking the truth, and stupider still to let it ruin the time they had. And still it ate at her, his need to raise the subject. In fact it seemed that it was on everybody’s mind. The water man stopped her to ask when they were leaving for home, and Mrs. Livingston bemoaned the fact that the end of the war would mean the departure of the fascinating Nathaniel Bonner and his remarkable friends and family.

Rachel especially could hardly keep her excitement to herself, because her parents had arranged for her to travel with the Bonners, who would take her to her family in Manhattan.

In Henry, at least, Hannah had an ally.

He had come to her in the little clinic, his lower lip pooched out as though he were still a baby, and in need of comfort. Everyone was going to New-York, and he had to stay behind, and really, it was unfair.

“Your mother and father and your uncle Ben will still be here,” Hannah had pointed out to him. She felt the boy’s sharp gaze on her.

“You could stay, too,” Henry said. “You could marry my uncle.”

“I have family in the north,” Hannah said, striving to make her tone neutral. “They miss me as much as your mother and father would miss you if you went away.”

“But you sleep in the same bed as my uncle,” Henry had persisted. “And that means you’re married.” His thin face was pinched with worry.

“We are not married,” Hannah had said, and refused to be drawn further into the conversation.

Now she said, “Henry is just as jealous as you are of him. He doesn’t like the fact that we share a bed.”

“Your uncle disapproves?”

Hannah bit him on the shoulder and he yelped. “Henry,” she said. “Henry doesn’t like”—she shrugged as if to take in the whole apartment—“this.”

“Someday Henry will understand,” said Ben, his fingers working her buttons.

“He understands too much as it is,” Hannah muttered, and then she gave up, as Ben meant her to do.

Chapter 59

“Of course it is very foolish of me,” Mrs. Livingston said to Jennet, her voice trembling. “But I find my nerves—the artillery—”