Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (13 page)

“Annulled?” She clung to the rail for support as he pulled away. “How can you decree that you have made a mistake when I, too, have a voice in this matter? I would not have married you, sir, unless I was certain our marriage was according to God
’s will and favor.”

She gripped his arm and forced him to look at her. “I thought you saw, sir, that our marriage is the best solution for both of us. I have no one, now that my father is dead, except my uncle, and my uncle has judged it right that I marry you. And I love the same God you have pledged your life to serve! I can be your helper, your friend, your companion as you undertake your work in Virginia, so why would you turn me away?”

Her breath came quickly; his eyes seemed to focus on her lips. “I had hoped you would refuse me. The work of the ministry demands all of a man . . .”

Jocelyn pulled herself up to her full height and lifted her chin. “I am strong, sir, and not easily bowed. You have reasons for regretting this marriage, but I swear I will not require much of you. But you have given your word, and to cast me aside—”

He leaned closer and she felt the power of his gaze. “Would you stay with a man thirteen years older than you?”

“Yes.”

“A man of the common folk, and you being a lady?”

“In Virginia all men are equal.”

“You, young and virtuous, would be wife to a man who has left his son? A man who has buried a wife already?”

“My own mother died before her time; I never faulted my father for it. And you have done what is best for your son, I have no doubt.”

“You would marry an imperfect man, a man who has committed the vilest sins recorded in the Holy Scriptures?”

“Who among us has not sinned? And do not the Scriptures say that one sin is as another in the eyes of God? I am as vile a sinner as you, Thomas Colman, and as dedicated to God
’s service.”

She felt her cheeks burning; she had not felt so alive in weeks, and he seemed to shrivel as she blazed up at him. “I understand your reluctance, for I know your character better than you think, Thomas Colman. You may think you were wrong to marry me, but you would commit a greater wrong if you turn me away.”

He said nothing for a moment, but his look traveled up and down her. “Yes,” he whispered finally, smiling as his eyes watered in the damp breeze that blew in their faces. “That would be a sin.”

She caught her breath at the unexpected warmth in his words. He lifted his hand to her hair and caressed her with his eyes for a brief moment, then abruptly turned and left the quarterdeck.

Jocelyn sighed in exasperation. He saw her all too clearly, read her face like an open book, but kept himself carefully guarded. Did grief hold him prisoner? Very well. If he still grieved for his wife, she would be patient. But God had called her to serve with this man, and serve she would, until he finally found freedom in her love.

Though she herself had been uncertain of the wisdom of their marriage, she knew that after this moment she would never look back.

“My father crossed the western ocean in only twenty-eight days two years ago,” Eleanor whispered one hot afternoon. She lay on her back upon the hard wooden floor and her skin glistened with perspiration even though Agnes had not ceased to fan her for the last hour. “We have been at sea how long now, Jocelyn?”

“Forty and two days,” Jocelyn murmured, drawing her knees to her chest under her long skirt. She rested her head on her arms. “Surely we are nearly done with this endless ocean.”

“Ananias assures me so every day, but every night I find myself lying here on this floor,” Eleanor said, the ghost of a smile crossing her face. A small twinge of discomfort fluttered across her brow, but she dismissed it with another smile. “In truth, my baby is impatient, too. He kicks in protest.”

“What does the reverend your husband say, Mistress Jocelyn?” Agnes asked, a new tone of respect in her voice.

Jocelyn shrugged. “He knows no more than we do. I doubt if even Simon Fernandes knows when we will reach land.”

“I heard the lookout say he spotted birds yesterday,” Audrey volunteered, opening her eyes from where she lay on the floor. Jocelyn had thought her asleep, for the girl had been unusually quiet and thoughtful in the last few days. “The seamen say if birds are about, land is no more than two days away.”

“I wouldn’t know, bein’ as I don’t talk to the seamen,” Agnes retorted loftily, lifting her chin. “A lady’s maid shouldn’t mix with the likes of them . . .”

Jocelyn sighed and rose . She could not bear the stifling atmosphere of the confining hold for one moment more, and though she knew Fernandes had been short-tempered with any passenger who dared ascend to the upper deck, she would gladly risk a confrontation with the captain for ten minutes of the breeze in her hair.

She climbed the narrow companionway to the deck and nodded to a seaman who grinned at her. “Please, I won’t get in the way, but I must have a breath of air,” she whispered.

“Aye, missy, and would I be denying ye breath for your pretty self? Stand over there behind the capstan, and the captain won
’t be seein’ ye for a good time. But ‘twill do me eyes good just to look at ye.”

Jocelyn smiled her thanks and moved to the rail beside the capstan, a large, revolving drum used to raise and lower the anchor. She stood at the rail for a long time, her eyes closed. The rhythmic thump of waves against the ship, the sailors
’ sea songs, and the mellow creaks and groans of the ship’s timbers were nothing but background noise now, and she thought she could hear the breathing of sea creatures, mayhap a whale or porpoise. Several times she had seen dolphins racing the ship, but today all was quiet on the broad expanse of the deep.

Keeping a careful eye out for Captain Fernandes, she moved away from the starboard side of the ship toward the bow. As the bowsprit rose and fell, flecks of sea spray fell upon her cheek and the moist Caribbean air blew through her hair. She inhaled deeply. Ah, Audrey
’s sailor was right, she could
smell
land, a rich, earthy, humid, living scent of trees and grass and

animals . . .

She leaned dangerously forward, scanning the horizon. Clouds hung lazily between the sea and sky, but something brown did seem to rise in the distance. She turned and looked up toward the crow’s nest, a question on her face.

“Yes, Mistress Colman,” Simon Fernandes stood behind her, and she jumped. “That is Dominica on the horizon. We have arrived.”

“Does my uncle know?” Despite her displeasure at seeing the captain, she felt like screaming with joy.

Fernandes nodded. “I have told him myself. He wants us to land immediately, of course, but that is impossible.”

Jocelyn’s heart sank. “We cannot land?”

“Of course not. These are the waters of the Caribbean; the
Spaniards race their treasure ships through these waters and would escape us if we were anchored in the harbor. Part of our mission, Mistress Colman, is to recapture the value of goods that have been pirated from our English ships.”

“But we need water!” Jocelyn
’s hands gripped her skirt in rage. Could he not look at her and the others and see how badly they needed fresh food, fruit, and water for bathing? “Please, captain, let us anchor wherever we can. My cousin and Mistress Harvie are pregnant, Mistress Viccars has an infant, the young boys have grown so pale. Why, George Howe’s leg is infected, and there is no fresh water to cleanse his wound—”

“We will land when I give the order,” Fernandes answered, stepping back. “You are too much like your uncle, Mistress Colman. You forget who commands this ship. Now I
’d like you to rejoin the others below decks.”

Jocelyn squared her shoulders and moved past him to the companionway.
‘Twouldn’t be fair to tell the others that she’d actually seen land. The sight and smell of land, with no hope of landing, would be too great a frustration.

Twelve

T
he
Lion
spent the next three weeks cruising through the islands of the Caribbean. John White grew more angry with each day that he and his people were held prisoner aboard ship, but Simon Fernandes, intent upon finding and capturing the cargoes of Spanish treasure ships, cared only for piracy. After three weeks with no sign of Spanish ships, neither man was satisfied.

Finally Fernandes anchored off St. Croix and allowed his passengers three days and nights on the island.
Despite her joy at being released from the filthy ship, Jocelyn looked forward to going ashore with mixed feelings. As a married woman, would she spend her nights with her husband, or would Thomas expect her to remain with the women?

Once the shallop deposited them on shore, Jocelyn no longer had time to worry.
While she and several other women gathered fruits that resembled green apples, Thomas went off with a group of men to scout the seashore for food.

The green fruit proved to be poisonous, and the women who ate of it felt their mouths burning within minutes.
Several of the women’s tongues swelled to the point that they could not speak, and Elizabeth Viccars’ nursing infant was even affected through his mother’s milk.

Hours later, the group of meat hunters returned, exhausted from struggling to carry a giant sea turtle back to camp.
While searching for water, another group made the mistake of bathing in a stagnant pond. The water proved to be a miasma, poisoning those who drank from or bathed in it, and caused such swelling that those who splashed their faces in it could not see for five or six days.

By nightfall, fully half the colonists lay moaning or retching as they lay on palmetto fronds in the sand, while the others nursed them with healthy slices of tortoise and handfuls of fresh water, finally found on the far side of the island.

Jocelyn’s youth and strength had borne the poor food and conditions on the ship easily enough, but the ravages of the bitter fruit left her weak and wanting to die. Audrey lay stricken, too, and was of no help, so Jocelyn curled into a tight knot and lay quietly in the sand, her arms wrapped around her aching stomach. “Please, Father God,” she mumbled over her swollen tongue, not caring who heard her, “Let this be the end. If this is what you have in store for us, show mercy and end it now.”

“
Such a little suffering, and yet you are ready to die?”

She opened one eye.
Thomas stood above her, taller than ever, with reproach clearly written on his face.

“
Go away,” she muttered into the sand. “You can’t know how this feels. There’s nothing like it in England, and I wouldn’t wish this even on you, though you probably deserve it.”

He knelt beside her and lowered his voice.
“Why would I deserve it?” he asked, an odd mingling of wariness and amusement in his eyes. “Have you at last come to regret our marriage?”

“
I will if you don’t leave me alone!”

He surprised her by laughing.
She had never heard him laugh, and the honest and free sound made her feel better even as it made her angry.

“
I’ll get you some water,” he said, casually brushing wayward tendrils of hair from her forehead so he could see her face. “And they’re serving sea turtle soup, so I’ll bring you some. If your stomach rebels from the fruit, perchance some meat will help you regain your strength.”

“
No. I can’t eat—”

“
You don’t have to take it. But I’m your husband, and responsible for you, so let me do my duty and bring what you require.”

She groaned and clenched her hands as another spasm gripped her stomach.
Thomas left, but returned a few moments later with food and a shell filled with water. He insisted she drink the water and held the scalloped shell to her lips, then he put his hand behind her head and held her upright as he offered the tortoise.

The sight and smell of the food assailed her nostrils, and Jocelyn refused it.
The pressure of his hand on her head lingered a moment, then Thomas gently lowered her to the ground and sat in the sand next to her. As they stared at the stars in the Caribbean sky overhead, she retched and shuddered and sweated the poison from her system as he talked of the adventure of finding the giant sea turtle and how it had required sixteen men just to carry it back to camp. He talked of the sea, of the vastness of the ocean reaches, and “the glory of circling God’s wondrous globe with the wake of a ship, like a ribbon about a pomander orange.”

Before he had finished, she slept.

After their three disastrous days on St. Croix, Simon Fernandes sent Captain Stafford and the pinnace to Vieques Island to find sheep, while the
Lion
guardedly put into port near the Spanish fort at Puerto Rico to take on fresh water. Jocelyn’s uncle complained that Fernandes had made yet another poor decision, for the seamen consumed more beer during their Puerto Rico stop than the colonists gained in water.