Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter. Cathy’s First Letter.

17 May 1024, Bois-de-Bas

Amelia, my dear sister to be,

His Napes returned from Mont-Havre this past Friday, presented himself to me in your cousin’s parlor, and asked me to be his bride. He even went down on one knee, which was less of an obstacle to him than I might have thought.

He said that I would make him the happiest of men if I would accept his hand. I said, “And all the rest of you, you infernal presumptuous rascal!” He put a ring on my finger, and kissed me—but very quickly, which I rather wondered at; and then I discovered that although Bois-de-Bas has grown into a town in truth, it is still a village at heart, for we were not alone. Annie and Margie burst out of the kitchen and threw their arms around my neck, calling me Cousin Cathy; they were followed by Armand and Amelie Jacques-la-Souris and Madame Truc.

They showered us with flowers and laughter and good wishes; and then Armand went opened the front door, and in from the porch came Eloise and Corinne and the Henricots, and Marc and Elise Frontenac, and a host of others from the town, some of whom I’d met only in passing. 

Jack and I had risen to greet everyone, but now we were made to sit down together, side-by-side, and the assembled throng gave us a toast, after which we were made to hold court and receive the guests: our guests!

The procession started with the others from the Two Sloops. M. and Mme. Henricot congratulated us, smiling. Eloise shook my hand, gave me a broad wink, and went to help Amelie bring in more refreshments. Corinne and Bessie introduced me to their mothers; Bessie’s mother looked a trifle disgruntled, but Bessie whispered in my ear, “She’d hoped I’d catch the Captain’s eye, though I’ve told her time and again that he has never looked in my direction even once.”

Mme. Poquêrie and the other ladies I knew from the Hot Springs were there with their husbands; they greeted me with delight and broad smiles of their own. “And now you have ruined all my hard work,” said Mme. Poquêrie. “Quelle horreur!” And then in tones of mock sorrow, “For I had just found a most suitable match, a farmer from the next village. He and his goats are tres desolée!” 

I promised to put her to no further effort, “for I’ve the only goat I need, you see.” Jack snorted, for I was holding his arm, and there was general laughter. I wondered to myself at how much I had changed, and how different Bois-de-Bas is than Nexing Cross. I should never have dared make such a joke in Nexinghamshire. I blame your brother, truly.

Amelie and Armand came last. Armand took my hand—the one not claimed by His Napes—and said, “Welcome to the family, Cathy. I have wished Jack happy these many years, and now you are making my wish come true.” Amelie just beamed.

In time the party stretched out into the front areas of both Amelie’s store and Armand’s workshop, and I had a moment to whisper into Jack’s ear. “You knew, you infernal jack-a-napes! You knew, and you didn’t warn me.”

“O’ course I knew, my darlin’,” he said. “Put the word about myself. Half the mamas in Bois-de-Bas have dangled their daughters at me, ever since I first came to visit Armand, and I wanted to make it plain that I am off the market.” He cocked an eyebrow in thought. “Nice girls, most of them, dewy-eyed and all. But not one of them had been through the wars, not really.”

“And that’s what you wanted? A girl who’d been through the wars?”

“A woman, rather, one able to judge the good because she knows what the bad looks like.” He grinned wryly at me. “I’ll not be an unmixed blessing, my darlin’. No man is, in truth. But I’m a bit shopworn,” and here he patted his knee, “nightmares wake me from time to time, and there are those who think I’m an infernal presumptuous rascal.”

“While I, of course, am without flaw,” I said. I might have been looking in his eyes.

“You are that, my darlin’. Save that you’re a dreadful liar.”

I shrugged. “I’m out of practice.”

“No need to touch it up for my sake, mind.”

“For you, only the truth, My Napes.”

Then we both frowned. “Doesn’t quite have the right ring,” he said. 

“No, it really doesn’t,” I agreed. “It’s good that I have the right ring safe, here on my finger. My love.”

“That sounds rather better,” he said, and gave me another quick kiss.

He joined me at the church on Sunday, and as Père Chambord read the banns for the first time I imagined sighs going up from mamas all around me and I smiled secretly to myself—secretly, because I could not have been smiling any wider than I already was, to be sitting there with His Napes, my arm clasped around his.

The banns must be read twice more, just as in Cumbria, and then we may be wed at any time. We are most impatient! But for your mama’s sake we are planning to be wed on the 9th of September. Captain Grier will be in Yorke with the Amelie at the beginning of August for all who might wish to come to Bois-de-Bas for the wedding. 

Amelia, it would give me great joy if you would attend me, along with Amelie and Elise, for it is to you I owe my present happiness. I hope to see both you and your Maximilian.

Please have Maximilian write Octie and tell him that though he is most certainly not invited to join us—for I cannot think it wise for the two of us to ever again be in the same land, given the curse—I wish him and his bride all the happiness I am finding with my darling Jack.

Cathy

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