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The Lady of Fort St. John by Mary Hartwell Catherwood
The Lady of Fort St. John by Mary Hartwell Catherwood
At the mouth of the river St. John an island was lashed with drift, and tide-terraces alongshore recorded how furiously the sea had driven upon the land. There had been a two days' storm on the Bay of Fundy, subsiding to the clearest of cool spring evenings. An amber light lay on the visible world. The forest on the west was yet too bare of leaf buds to shut away sunset.
A month later the headlands would be lined distinctly against a blue and quickening sky by freshened air and light and herbage. Two centuries and a half later, long streaks of electric light would ripple on that surface, and great ships stand at ease there, and ferry-boats rush back and forth. But in this closing dusk it reflected only the gray and yellow vaporous breath of April, and shaggy edges of a wilderness. The high shores sank their shadows farther and farther from the water's edge.
Fort St. John was built upon a gradual ascent of rocks which rose to a small promontory on the south side of the river. There were four bastions guarded with cannon, the northeast bastion swelling above its fellows in a round turret topped with battlements. On this tower the flag of France hung down its staff against the evening sky, for there was scarcely any motion of the air. That coast lay silent like a pictured land, except a hint of falls above in the river. It was ebb tide; the current of the St. John set out toward the sea instead of rushing back on its own channel; and rocks swallowed at flood now broke the surface.
A plume of smoke sprang from one bastion, followed by the rolling thunder of a cannon shot. From a small ship in the bay a gun replied to this salute. She stood, gradually clear of a headland, her sails hanging torn and one mast broken, and sentinel and cannoneer in the bastion saw that she was lowering a boat. They called to people in the fortress, and all voices caught the news:-
"Madame has come at last!"
Life stirred through the entire inclosure with a jar of closing doors and running feet.
Though not a large fortification, St. John was well and compactly built of cemented stone. A row of hewed log-barracks stood against the southern wall, ample for all the troops La Tour had been able to muster in prosperous times. There was a stone vault for ammunition. A well, a mill and great stone oven, and a storehouse for beaver and other skins were between the barracks and the commandant's tower built massively into the northeast bastion. This structure gave La Tour the advantage of a high lookout, though it was much smaller than a castle he had formerly held at La Hève. The interior accommodated itself to such compactness, the lower floor having only one entrance, and windows looking into the area of the fort, while the second floor was lighted through deep loopholes.
A drum began to beat, a tall fellow gave the word of command, and the garrison of Fort St. John drew up in line facing the gate. A sentinel unbarred and set wide both inner and outer leaves, and a cheer burst through the deep-throated gateway, and was thrown back from the opposite shore, from forest and river windings. Madame La Tour, with two women attendants, was seen coming up from the water's edge, while two men pushed off with the boat.
She waved her hand in reply to the shout.
The tall soldier went down to meet her, and paused, bareheaded, to make the salutation of a subaltern to his military superior. She responded with the same grave courtesy. But as he drew nearer she noticed him whitening through the dusk.
"All has gone well, Klussman, at Fort St. John, since your lord left?"
"Madame," he said with a stammer, "the storm made us anxious about you."
"Have you seen D'Aulnay?"
"No, madame."
"You look haggard, Klussman."
"If I look haggard, madame, it must come from seeing two women follow you, when I should see only one."
He threw sharp glances behind her, as he took her hand to lead her up the steep path. Marie's attendant was carrying the baby, and she lifted it for him to look at, the hairs on her upper lip moved by a good-natured smile. Klussman's scowl darkened his mountain-born fairness.
"I would rather, indeed, be bringing more men to the fort instead of more women," said his lady, as they mounted the slope. "But this one might have perished in the stockade where we found her, and your lord not only misliked her, as you seem to do, but he held her in suspicion. In a manner, therefore, she is our prisoner, though never went prisoner so helplessly with her captors."
"Yes, any one might take such a creature," said Klussman.
"Those are no fit words to speak, Klussman."
He was unready with his apology, however, and tramped on without again looking behind. Madame La Tour glanced at her ship, which would have to wait for wind and tide to reach the usual mooring.
"Did you tell me you had news?" she was reminded to ask him.
"Madame, I have some news, but nothing serious."
"If it be nothing serious, I will have a change of garments and my supper before I hear it. We have had a hard voyage."
"Did my lord send any new orders?"
"None, save to keep this poor girl about the fort; and that is easily obeyed, since we can scarce do otherwise with her."
"I meant to ask in the first breath how he fared in the outset of his expedition."
"With a lowering sky overhead, and wet red clay under-foot. But I thanked Heaven, while we were tossing with a broken mast, that he was at least on firm land and moving to his expectations."
They entered the gateway, Madame La Tour's cheeks tingling richly from the effort of climbing. She saluted her garrison, and her garrison saluted her, each with a courteous pride in the other, born of the joint victory they had won over D'Aulnay de Charnisay when he attacked the fort. Not a man broke rank until she entered her hall. There was a tidiness about the inclosure peculiar to places inhabited by women. It added grace even to military appointments.
"You miss the swan, madame," noted Klussman. "Le Rossignol is out again."
"When did she go?"
"The night after my lord and you sailed northward. She goes each time in the night, madame."
"And she is still away?"
"Yes, madame."
"And this is all you know of her?"
"Yes, madame. She went, and has not yet come back."
"But she always comes back safely. Though I fear," said Madame La Tour on the threshold, "the poor maid will some time fall into harm."
He opened the door, and stood aside, saying under his breath, "I would call a creature like that a witch instead of a maid."
"I will send for you, Klussman, when I have refreshed myself."
"Yes, madame."
The other women filed past him, and entered behind his lady.
The Swiss soldier folded his arms, staring hard at that crouching vagrant brought from Beausejour. She had a covering over her face, and she held it close, crowding on the heels in front of her as if she dared not meet his eye.
* * *
Heroes of the Middle West: The French by Mary Hartwell Catherwood
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...
On the day of their wedding anniversary, Joshua's mistress drugged Alicia, and she ended up in a stranger's bed. In one night, Alicia lost her innocence, while Joshua's mistress carried his child in her womb. Heartbroken and humiliated, Alicia demanded a divorce, but Joshua saw it as yet another tantrum. When they finally parted ways, she went on to become a renowned artist, sought out and admired by everyone. Consumed by regret, Joshua darkened her doorstep in hopes of reconciliation, only to find her in the arms of a powerful tycoon. "Say hello to your sister-in-law."
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it all-from standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didn't return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachel's terminal illness and realized she didn't have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
They don't know I'm a girl. They all look at me and see a boy. A prince. Their kind purchase humans like me for their lustful desires. And, when they stormed into our kingdom to buy my sister, I intervened to protect her. I made them take me too. The plan was to escape with my sister whenever we found a chance. How was I to know our prison would be the most fortified place in their kingdom? I was supposed to be on the sidelines. The one they had no real use for. The one they never meant to buy. But then, the most important person in their savage land-their ruthless beast king-took an interest in the "pretty little prince." How do we survive in this brutal kingdom, where everyone hates our kind and shows us no mercy? And how does someone, with a secret like mine, become a lust slave? . AUTHOR'S NOTE. This is a dark romance-dark, mature content. Highly rated 18+ Expect triggers, expect hardcore. If you're a seasoned reader of this genre, looking for something different, prepared to go in blindly not knowing what to expect at every turn, but eager to know more anyway, then dive in! . From the author of the international bestselling book: "The Alpha King's Hated Slave."
THEY COULDN'T BE TOGETHER AT THE START. ARE THEY DESTINED TO STAY APART UNTIL THE END? She's the heir to the throne, yet her heart is calling after something else... Princess Reida's academic pursuit takes her on a journey to Incanta – a world inhabited by witches, wizards, dragon shifters, wraiths, and irascibles. While her mind is broadened and mystified just as she'd hoped, developing feelings for a certain wizard was not part of her plan, especially not when he is her professor. He's no stranger to injustice, but the biggest one may be his undoing... Professor Theodore Ischyrós is ambitious and accomplished in a way few beings are. He keeps his past close at all times and has learned to mistrust and doubt almost everyone. The moment he laid eyes on her he knew he'd been struck by magic. The moment she began speaking he knew he was done for. He's determined to keep professional lines clear until she graduated. But when that day comes, would she be available for him to pursue? She's a princess – the heir to the lycan throne, and his best friend's cousin. And things only get worse when the heir to Incanta's throne seems to be after her hand as well. Will Theodore be able to convince Reida to choose him, or are they destined to stay behind professional lines forever, being within reach but never together? This is BOOK FOUR of the series but can be read as a standalone. *** BOOK ONE: The 5-Time Rejected Gamma & the Lycan King BOOK TWO: The Rogues Who Went Rogue BOOK THREE: The Indomitable Huntress & the Hardened Duke
At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"
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