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Étienne was going to be forced to acknowledge his child.

But how to do that?

The first step was figuring out why my husband had believed the lies about me, why he was so quick to distrust me and throw the allegations in my family’s face. And that meant I’d have to dig into the little hints I’d gotten about the feuding between our families.

“Where did the feud begin?” I asked Tilly the next day as we sat in the kitchen together.

I’d begun to gravitate more toward the kitchen—at first glance, Tilly seemed to be a stoic woman with a plain face and severe bun—but there was something comfortable about her, and being in the room with her as she baked bread or helping her skin a chicken was the closest I could get to contentment at the lodge.

Tilly frowned, concentrating.

“I know it involved ya’ll grandaddies,” she said. “And as far as I know, they both died, so according to mountain law that should have been the end of it.”

“Then why is Placidie still obsessed with this feud if it was supposed to be over? Why would she try to stop Étienne’s wedding over it?”

She shrugged.

“All I know is the Bastides hate the Pinoteaux, and the Pinoteaux hate the Bastides. And the Bastides don’t forget. Ever. When they say they do, they’re lying. Placidie has always thought Étienne hung the moon. She made no bones about the fact that he was her favorite. He was the one chosen to lead the Bastides when Étienne’s Da was sick. And for her favorite to choose a Pinoteaux—that didn’t sit right with her.”

Well, the Bastides might be stubborn, but I could be stubborn, too. In fact, I could be a lot of things I’d never dreamed of.

“I want to get out of here,” I told Hugo later, pacing up and down in his study.

Now that I was back in a strong mind, I was full of restless energy.

“How many times have you tried to escape?” I asked. “Let’s figure out what went wrong.”

One thing I loved about my brother-in-law is Hugo didn’t waste time with bullshit about how it couldn’t be done. He just looked at things logically and thoughtfully, pulling out some paper to give me rough sketches of how he’d tried to escape before.

“I’ve tried several different times. But I was always caught in the forest.”

“Well, we will have to be sure not to get caught in the forest.”

“The main problem is not having a vehicle or weapon, because we will have to go a long way to get out of his territory.”

“What about Tilly and Armand?” I asked. “Do they have a vehicle? Any weapons?”

Hugo looked surprised.

“I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “Their quarters are separate and locked. I presume they do have a vehicle. But they’re employed by the Bastides.”

“Employed by the Bastides,” I said. “But I wonder if perhaps they are more loyal to you. After all, they’ve lived with you for years.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “But they might also be too afraid of Étienne to do anything.”

“I am sick of hearing about Étienne!” I cried passionately. “I want to wring his throat!”

A smile played about Hugo’s lips.

“Well, we will try to escape without needing their help. At night perhaps, after they’ve gone back to their own quarters.”

“I don’t care about Étienne,” I lied. “But I want someone to pay. I want to prove I was right, and he was wrong. That I am carrying his baby.”

“If we escape,” Hugo said, “if we can find someplace else to go—somewhere else you can raise the baby. . .”

“I will still want him to acknowledge his child,” I said. “Even if it is just to send money our child is owed. How can I force him to accept our baby?”

“Well, what are you willing to do? How far are you willing to go?”