Page 5 of The Lady of Red River Valley (Ladies of the Wilderness #2)
Colin Robertson, an employee of the Hudson’s Bay Company personally assigned to Lord Selkirk’s service, led the tired settlers, totaling forty-five men, women, and children, up the banks of the Red River to the fort’s eastern gate.
The dark-haired Robertson was not tall or braw, but he was fearless and ruthless in the face of his enemies, making him a priceless ally to the Red River Colony.
While the others hauled their meager belongings into the fort, and began to set up their tents, Robertson sought out Arran.
“I have news.” Robertson was a man of few words, and he didn’t waste time on platitudes or meaningless conversation. “Shall we speak?”
“Aye.” Arran motioned to James to follow them into the governor’s house.
The two-story building sat in the eastern corner of the fort, overlooking the Red River. It was the finest residence in Assiniboia, commissioned by the previous governor. For now, it was Arran’s home, though he didn’t know how long it would be until Selkirk sent a replacement for Macdonell.
Opening the front door, the three men entered the common living space.
Long, wide planks covered the floor and small windows on either end of the room let in the last vestiges of daylight.
A table, a large fireplace, and a cupboard graced one wall and on the opposite wall were two doors.
One led into the governor’s bedroom and the other into his office.
A set of stairs in the far corner led up to several more bedrooms.
It wasn’t a fancy home, but it was well-built and spacious. It had been the place of many gatherings and strategic meetings for the colony.
Arran lit a match and set it to the wick of a lantern on a nearby table. He led the men into his office and indicated the chairs across from his. The large desk, which Governor Macdonell had built to his specifications, sat between them.
“What news have you to share?” Arran asked as he took his seat and set his musket against the desk.
Robertson wore a sword at his side. It clanked against the floor as he sat and faced Arran. “I’ve been told that another group of colonists has arrived at York Factory in Hudson Bay. You are to prepare for their arrival before winter.”
Arran met James’s gaze, and he knew what the older man was thinking without even asking.
They needed settlers to make the colony successful, but more settlers meant more mouths to feed and bodies to protect.
Until Lord Selkirk could guarantee their safety, new and unseasoned colonists would be a liability.
October 1, 1812
A cool breeze nipped at Eleanor’s nose. She bent her head against the wind and repositioned her arms to better protect Miriam’s small body.
The baby was snug in the sling Fiona Ferguson had outfitted for her to carry the three-month-old child.
Eleanor had transported her in the sling through their days at York Factory on the shores of Hudson Bay, through their weeks traversing the Nelson River to Jack River House, while they sliced through the massive waves of Lake Winnipeg, and now as they made the last leg of their journey up the mouth of the Red River.
They would reach the settlement by day’s end, and their four-and-a-half-month journey would finally be over.
Soon, Eleanor would begin her work as the settlement’s teacher, and see that every child in Red River Colony was educated.
More importantly, Eleanor would face Arran MacLean once again. What would he say when she stepped out of the canoe at Assiniboia? Would he be happy to see her? Would he pull her into his arms and whisper the words her heart had longed to hear these many years?
She had told herself she was coming to teach, but her heart whispered the truth. She wanted to rekindle the love that she and Arran had shared on St. Mary’s Isle. Yet, her head warned her heart that he might reiterate the painful things he’d written to her in response to her letter of regret.
So many questions and uncertainties plagued her as they drew closer to their destination, the greatest of which was whether Arran would be married to someone else. It was almost all she could think about.
“She’s happiest in your arms,” Reverend West said as he sat beside Eleanor. He lifted the collar of his coat to ward off the chill as he let his gaze rest on Eleanor and Miriam.
Eleanor couldn’t deny his words. The baby was happiest in her arms. Every few hours, as soon as Fiona completed Miriam’s feedings, Eleanor took the baby back and saw to all her other needs. They were rarely apart, and she had grown to love the child as if she were her own.
She rubbed the baby’s back and looked out at the riverbanks. They had steadily risen higher the closer they came to the colony, and she could no longer see above them to the prairies beyond.
“Anne would be so thankful for your loving care.” William, as Mr. West had asked her to call him, spoke in a soft, almost reverent voice.
The grief in his eyes was still so powerful, Eleanor struggled to look at him in moments like this.
He was far too young and handsome to carry such a heavy burden through life.
Eleanor often prayed he would find joy again.
Even his daughter was not enough to bring a smile to his face.
He hadn’t held her once since her birth, though Eleanor had offered her to him many times.
She was all too aware of what it felt like to be rejected by a parent.
It was the last thing she wished for Miriam. But still he refrained.
The child reminded him of all he’d lost. Even the name he’d chosen for her meant “sea of bitterness.”
“It’s an honor to care for your daughter.” Eleanor smiled at the sleeping baby. Her heart-shaped mouth and delicate little nose were so like Anne’s, it was difficult not to think about her friend when she looked upon the babe.
“I hope it’s not too great a burden.” It was William’s constant concern. “I can make other arrangements if you’d—”
“She’s not a burden.” On the contrary, the baby had filled Eleanor with purpose as she waited to start her school and brought a sense of joy amid her grief. Taking care of Miriam had become second nature to her. “I cannot think of anything I enjoy more.”
The lines in William’s face eased and he nodded. “Thank you, Lady Eleanor.”
She smiled at the minister. “Please. Just call me Eleanor.”
Here, in this wild and desolate place, there were no distinctions between nobility and commoners.
Eleanor had known what she was giving up when she left England’s shores, and she had no regrets.
The peerage had brought nothing but heartache and pain to Eleanor and her family for as long as she could remember.
It had destroyed her mother, broken up her parents’ marriage, and shunned Eleanor the moment her father had succumbed to its pressures.
“You may be the first English lady in the entire Northwestern Wilderness.” William gazed upon the wooded riverbanks and rubbed his hands together, blowing into them for warmth.
He spoke, more to himself than her, “I’m beginning to think that bringing you and Anne here was the biggest mistake of my life.
If something happens to you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself. ”
Eleanor’s lips parted at the bold statement, and it sent a shiver up her spine.
Rumors and reports had trickled to them along their journey.
At both York Factory and Jack River House, they’d heard about the attack by the North West Company men and Bois-Br?lés.
They’d learned that over a hundred and fifty settlers had left with a man named Duncan Cameron and gone to Montreal.
That would only leave about fifty settlers at Assiniboia.
With the addition of the immigrants from Kildonan, they would reach one hundred and forty.
A small number, to be sure. But not without hope.
Surely, the Bois-Br?lés would recognize that it was useless to keep fighting.
Each time they drove a group of settlers away, another would come, this time stronger.
Even now, the new governor of the Hudson’s Bay Company, Robert Semple, sat in the lead canoe.
He had been hired in answer to the ever-increasing troubles between the Hudson’s Bay Company and the North West Company.
Semple was a loud, boisterous man with more fervor than Eleanor had ever witnessed in any one human being.
He was impatient and bold, a frightening combination, as she’d already witnessed.
They had made the journey in less time than any of the settlers before them, to the detriment of the colonists.
Five people, including Anne, had lost their lives on the journey and he had rarely taken the time to stop and bury them properly.
“Do you have great dreams and aspirations for the colony?” William asked Eleanor, thankfully changing the subject.
Over the last few months, he had kept a respectful distance while still overseeing Eleanor’s welfare.
When Anne had been alive, the three of them had enjoyed companionable hours crossing the Atlantic, but after her death, he’d pulled away, rarely speaking to her for more than a moment or two.
Eleanor had wondered at his distance, questioning if it was because of the baby, his grief, or because he was now a single man and she an unmarried woman.
Whatever the reason, she had respected his space and kept to herself and Miriam.
Her relationship with Fiona had naturally grown and she had been thankful for a new friend in this foreign land, but she was happy to converse with a fellow English compatriot again.
“I hope to be of help,” Eleanor responded to William. “To teach and care for the children whenever I’m able. Though, I confess”—she had not admitted this to anyone else—“I worry that I will not be as useful as I had first hoped.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
They were surrounded by colonists on all sides, and she did not wish to alienate herself more than she already had by simply being a member of the aristocracy, but she couldn’t deny her concerns.
She spoke quietly. “This land is far more uncivilized than I had first hoped. I fear I have taken the place of someone more useful, such as a farmer or a tradesman. Perhaps I was too hasty in believing the colony was ready for a teacher.” Other than Fiona, the settlers had kept her at a distance.
When she tried to offer her help, even in the simplest ways, they refused to let her be of service.
She no longer used her title, but that didn’t mean the others would forget that she was a lady.
Would they allow her to teach their children, or would they refuse her that honor, as well?
“I wonder if a school is a frivolous luxury in such a young colony.”
“Education is never frivolous. It is the bedrock of society. Or, at least, it should be.” He studied her, the sounds of the voyageurs’ paddles slicing through the water and the hum of conversation mixing with the calls of the birds in the nearby trees.
“What prompted you to come all this way? Could you not teach in England?”
She did not anticipate his question. William knew she was Lady Selkirk’s cousin, but that was almost all he knew about her past. She had not shared anything about her father’s scandal or her relationship with Arran MacLean.
He didn’t know that she was all but ostracized from her homeland.
“I was ready to set my own course. When Lord Selkirk agreed to let me come, I knew I must seize the opportunity. It isn’t often that one is able to make history. ”
“Do you not have a family in England who is worried about you?”
Eleanor looked ahead to a bend in the river, wondering how many more curves they would travel before the settlement came into view. “There is no one.”
“What of your parents?”
She met his gaze with a steady look, hoping he would realize his questions were too personal. But he watched her openly, his curiosity apparently piqued. In a way, it gave her hope that he had started to look beyond his own pain and grief to think of others—even if it meant prying into her affairs.
“Are they deceased?” he asked, pressing for more. “Surely, if they were alive, they would have protested your journey as much as Anne’s did.”
Eleanor had left England behind to forget about the past and to start afresh, without scandal to mock her every move. If she told William the truth about her parents now, the weight of her past would follow her to this far-off land.
“Were Anne’s parents very upset?” Eleanor asked, hoping to divert his attention away from her.
It had the effect she hoped it would. He turned his gaze away and stared off into the distance, as if seeing another place and time.
“They made her choose between me and them. When she chose me, they said she was dead to them and they would not wait to hear about her death, but chose to mourn their loss right there, before her eyes.”
Eleanor touched William’s sleeve, horrified at what he’d just said. “I’m sorry.”
“And they were right. I was wrong to bring her.” He nodded at his daughter. “Now you know why I cannot send the baby back to England. There is no one who would take her.”
“Assiniboia ahead!” one of the voyageurs called in his thick French accent.
All around, cries of excitement filled the cold October air.
Eleanor’s heart suddenly beat faster, and she sat up straight, trying desperately to look calm and relaxed, while inside every nerve hummed with unease.
She’d had years to think about this moment, and months to plan what she might say.
But now, with her and Arran’s reunion only moments away, every muscle in her body tensed and she had the sudden and irrational urge to jump out of the canoe and flee in the direction she’d just come.