Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (12 page)

The sailors roared in ecstatic approval, and passengers from below crowded on the companionway to rejoice in the heaven-sent breeze.
The whisper of wind brushed across Jocelyn’s cheek as she looked at the man who was now her husband. Despite the tropical heat, she shivered.

Eleven

A
s she watched the celebratory hubbub, she felt Thomas take her elbow. “I must thank you,” he said politely, his voice strangely hoarse.

Jocelyn stared in surprise. His dark eyes stirred, but with joy or dismay she could not tell. But if he felt the need to formally thank her, then beyond a doubt,
‘twas a marriage of partnership, a business arrangement. He had given an unattached and lonely girl a home and a place; she had given him the respectability of marriage and would be a partner in ministry in the years to come. In that instant she understood the situation clearly, but with her rueful acceptance came a stab of pain.

“Certainly you are welcome,” she answered, moving toward the door. “I would stay, but Eleanor will wonder where I
’ve gone.”

“I understand.” He stepped back to let her pass. “If you have any need, Miss White, as your husband I will provide for you.”

“I believe I am Mistress Colman now,” she corrected, and the name seemed to startle him.

“In truth, you are,” he answered, picking up his cap from where it lay on her uncle
’s desk. He gave her an apologetic smile. “I cry you mercy, how could I forget?”

Because your first wife is yet your Mistress Colman
, Jocelyn’s heart answered, but she nodded and smiled politely. “If you need me, sir, I’ll be below with my maid and my cousin.”

“Aye.” He nodded again and she left, feeling oddly separated from the celebration on deck as the
Lion
moved purposefully through the water. Like the ship, she had a new direction. In the last ten minutes, Jocelyn White had become Mistress Colman, the lady of a household and the wife of a minister. She had crossed a great social chasm, but nothing in her life had changed.

“You
’ve done what?” Audrey shrieked, but Eleanor smiled and patted her belly approvingly.

“I
’ve married the minister,” Jocelyn said again, sinking onto a soiled blanket near Eleanor. “Uncle John married us an hour ago.”

“In truth, that
’s wonderful news, cousin,” Eleanor said, her voice oddly maternal.

“I
’ll be wanting to hear all the details, since ye didn’t see fit to call for me,” Audrey said, pulling up her skirts to sit next to Jocelyn. “Well, tell us all about it. What did the minister say to win your heart? He’s been so quiet and shy-like, how’d he find the courage to ask for your hand?”

“He said nothing,” Jocelyn answered, her head beginning to throb. Despite the ship
’s movement, the air below deck was still stagnant and sour. “My uncle told me the minister wished to marry me, he asked if I was willing, we were married. ‘Tis all that happened. And I suppose, Audrey, that we both have a new master.”

She lay back upon the deck and closed her eyes while Audrey sputtered in excitement. “Oh, and wouldn
’t your father be proud, your marryin’ a minister! He’d be right pleased, I know he would, Miss Jocelyn. I saw right off that there was something between ye and the minister, I did—”

“Soft, Audrey, can
’t you see she’s overcome?” Eleanor interrupted. “Let her rest. I think our Jocelyn needs some time to adjust to the state of matrimony.”

Jocelyn gave Eleanor a grateful smile as the older girl stretched her swollen legs out on the slimy deck floor. Eleanor leaned closer to Jocelyn and lowered her voice. “Nothing will change until we reach land, Jocelyn, so don
’t fret about—y’know, living with a husband. Then you’ll find ‘tis natural and perfectly lovely. You’ll be glad you married him, and the minister is a handsome man, and respected, so you’ll find nothing to worry about. All will be well with you.”

Jocelyn nodded and squeezed her eyes shut so Eleanor wouldn
’t see the tears that threatened to escape.

“—and so me mistress has married the minister,” Audrey finished, laying her cards down on the barrel with a flourish of triumph. “And I
’ve won, haven’t I?”

“Ye have indeed,” William Clement answered, giving her his brightest smile. Her hand was a far cry from the best on the table, but
‘twas best to let her think herself a winner. He felt James Hynde staring at him, and looked up to see the mocking light in James’ eye. All right, so he hadn’t been able to marry the lady Jocelyn himself. Who’d have guessed she fall for that somber minister?

“Audrey,” he said, purposefully turning to the flustered maid. “I
’ve been of a mind to tell ye something for a while, but I’m not sure how you’ll be taking it.”

“Why, whatever can ye be meaning, William?” The girl blushed and lowered her blue eyes demurely. She was not gentry, that much was obvious by her rough Irish speech and her freckled complexion, but her manners were good and mayhap she could rise above her birth, just as he planned to. If he couldn
’t win the mistress, ‘twould be a shame to let his efforts in minding the maid go to waste.

He shuffled the cards into his hand and lay the stack on the table. Gently, carefully, he removed his cap with one hand and placed his other on the soft hands Audrey held in her lap.

“‘Tis not my place, but I can’t sleep another night without tellin’ ye this: you are a beautiful girl, Audrey Tappan, the most beautiful and bonny lass on the ship.”

She blushed to the roots of her red hair, and he felt her hands clench under his. Ah, sure, and she thought he had been but playing a game
‘till now, and hadn’t he been? But ‘twas time to state his intentions, and make his claim before any of the other men on board realized how acute was the shortage of women bound for this colony.

“Why, William, I—”

He smiled at her confusion and pressed his finger across her pink lips. “Soft, dear, don’t say a word. ‘Tis enough that ye know how I feel about ye, and if the governor’s up to performing one marriage, mayhap he’ll perform another after we land at Chesapeake.”

She paled then, and he smiled inwardly at his success. A gust of wind blew through the porthole and scattered the cards. William patted Audrey
’s hand, then released it. “You’d best be getting back to your mistress,” he said, giving her a wink. “We’ll talk later, love.”

She moved away as if in a daze, and when she was safely beyond hearing, James began to laugh. “How are ye going to marry that girl?” James asked. “Ye can
’t marry until you are free, yet here ye are making promises—”

“With any luck, old Roger Bailie will die from heatstroke before we reach land,” William said, stacking the marked cards into a neat pile. “I could set foot on Virginian soil as a free man, with my five hundred acres and Audrey
’s five hundred acres—” He paused to figure in his head. “—With one thousand acres to my name.”

James gave his friend a doubtful look, and William neatly stuffed the cards into his doublet pocket. “Anything can happen at sea, my friend.”

From the small window on the passenger deck, Jocelyn studied the ship’s shadow on the ruffled surface of the sea. The ship had spread her wings like an eager hawk to take advantage of the rising wind, and the miles streamed out behind her, a white path stretching straight and true into the east. Jocelyn felt that God had suddenly smiled on the ship, but had he smiled on the quick marriage she had entered?

“I heave you
’ve gone and married the minister.”

The words broke Jocelyn
’s thoughts, and she looked down to see the petite form of Alice Chapman. She had only spoken with the lady a few times while aboard ship, but she knew that Alice’s husband had been the rector of a church in England.

“Yes.” Jocelyn forced a smile. “I suppose I have.”

The older woman noticed her hesitation. “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked, her hand coming to rest upon Jocelyn’s. Her eyes scanned Jocelyn’s face. “Why should you, my girl?”

Jocelyn looked out to sea, not sure she could be totally honest with this woman or any other. “How can you know if a marriage is right?” she asked, twisting a handkerchief in her hands. “God didn
’t write my answer on the wall. What if I have made a mistake?”

The lady clucked in quiet pity. “My child, we don
’t know anything until we take a step of faith. God has promised to direct our paths, and paths are made for walking, you know. The moment you accepted the minister as your husband, he became God’s choice for you.”

“Really?” A bud of hope sprouted in Jocelyn
’s heart.

“Do you love him, dear?”

Jocelyn pressed her lips together. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Jocelyn felt herself dimpling in embarrassment. “Well—you wouldn
’t know it to look upon him, but he has a wonderful sense of humor. Often as we talked on the deck, he told me funny stories about growing up in the country. And he’s kind—haven’t you seen the gentle way he works with the young boys? And of course he’s honorable, and wants to serve God. I don’t think he fears the Indians or any danger we might meet in Virginia.” Her spirits lifted as she talked, and she ended by giving Mistress Chapman a shy smile. “I think I can trust him to be a good husband, even if he never loves me in the way I love him.”

The freckled hand over hers moved in a gentle patting motion. “Love is a decision, my dear, and today you have both made it. Trust God to do the rest.”

The older woman moved away, and her words rang in Jocelyn’s heart as she stared out to sea. God would have to work a miracle to make Thomas love her. Could she trust him for that?

The welcome wind of the afternoon blew into a thundering gale, and once again the passengers and seamen on the
Lion
were soaked, rattled, and rolled about on the ship. Jocelyn wanted to go to the afterdeck and find Thomas, but Eleanor panicked, afraid she would be knocked about and injure her baby. Agnes could not calm her, nor Audrey, only Jocelyn would do.

The ship rocked for two full hours in the night, then finally the ocean calmed itself and Eleanor and the other women slept. Through the cannon ports Jocelyn could see the pinking of dawn in the east, and she climbed the narrow companionway to the upper deck to enjoy the morning breezes.

The sailor atop the crow’s nest whistled appreciatively as she walked below, but Jocelyn ignored him and climbed to the quarterdeck at the stern of the ship. The deck gleamed in the early morning sun, fresh and clean from the storm. A gentle rain still fell, but Jocelyn welcomed it, for it washed the grime of sea salt from her hair and skin. Reaching out her hands to catch a few drops of the blessedly clean water, she stood silently with her eyes closed.

Footsteps sounded and stopped beside her, and Jocelyn shook herself from her reverie and opened her eyes. Thomas Colman stood at the ship
’s rail, his eyes focused on the sunrise, his slender back angled toward her. He must have seen her, though he did not speak, and she wondered if he prayed or meditated. She was about to go below, unwilling to disturb his thoughts if he wanted to be silent, but as she turned, he spoke.

“Good morrow, Miss—Mistress Colman. Did you fare well in the storm?” His eyes did not move from the eastern horizon.

“Yes.” She hurriedly wiped dried her wet hands on her skirt. “My cousin would not let me leave her. I would have, but—” She stopped. Did she dare mention that she wanted to find him?

“You are quite a help to your cousin.” He gave her a quick glance over his shoulder. “You are to be commended. Self-sacrifice is a virtue, and seems to be part of your nature.”

Jocelyn bit her lip. Were his words a genuine compliment, or did he measure her for her role as a minister’s wife?

“I serve Eleanor because I love her.”

“As I serve God.” His knuckles tightened on the railing. “Last night I thought God would surely sink us all, for, like Jonah, I fear I have sinned against him.”

“You have sinned?” He was not making idle conversation; she could hear honest pain in his voice. She moved closer to his side. “What could you have possibly done?”

“I married you.” The words struck at Jocelyn’s heart and she gasped as if he had thrown a dagger into her bosom. He continued, his words cutting her heart. “In the midst of the storm last night I thought I should come here, to this very deck, and throw myself overboard to appease our angry God. Then I remembered that God prepared a great fish for Jonah, and I believe he surely prepared a great fish to wait for me.”

“In truth, you are speaking in riddles,” Jocelyn whispered, searching anxiously for the meaning behind his words. She dared to place her hand over his. “Why should our marriage be such a sin?”

“I have wronged you.” He turned to face her, and his dark eyes glinted with the power and passion for which she had searched in vain as they were married. “Verily, I made a mistake in marrying you, Jocelyn White. I pray you will forgive me. Mayhap you should see your uncle about having the marriage annulled.”