Page 12 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)
Along with the rest of the women, Mary strained to see something, but all she could make out were more trees.
They walked for about a quarter of a mile before emerging into an open space resembling a dry moat; it surrounded a tall wall constructed of thick logs that were whittled to sharp points at the top, like teeth piercing the sky.
The only opening in the wall was a wide gate that stood open to welcome them.
Master Harrington herded his charges through the gate, where a small crowd of onlookers had gathered to stare at the newcomers and call out words of greeting.
Mary’s head swiveled, her mouth open in shock.
She’d expected the settlement to resemble an English town, but what she saw was a cluster of daub and wattle houses grouped around a central space.
Two buildings were readily identifiable: the smithy, standing silent, and the church, which was no more than a large hut with a wooden cross at the top.
“Welcome, lovely ladies,” someone called out from the crowd. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. I wish one of you was meant for me.” A few people laughed, and someone playfully cuffed the young man who’d shouted at them.
The group of well-wishers consisted mostly of men, their faces hungry and eager as they looked at the newly arrived women.
There were two women at the back of the group, but they looked grim and unwelcoming, their gazes narrowed as they appraised the arrivals.
A richly dressed man emerged from the biggest house and strode toward the church, pausing briefly to give the women a stiff bow before continuing.
A middle-aged woman, who had to be his wife, smiled warmly at the women before shutting the door.
“Who’s that, then, Master Harrington?” Gwen called out. “Is he my future lord and husband?”
The women sniggered, but Master Harrington held up his hand. “That’s Governor Yeardley—and his lady,” he added.
He then shepherded them into the dim confines of the church.
Sharp beams of sunlight filtered through the slats in the walls and striped the dirt floor and rows of narrow benches.
The two front pews were occupied by men of various ages, their heads turned toward the door, their gazes fixed on the women.
The men looked anxious but eager, and some of them made to rise as the women filed in.
A clergyman stood at the front, his head tilted to the side as he surveyed the women.
The governor stood next to the minister, his plumed hat in the crook of his arm.
He was smiling, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Master Harrington, good to see you back,” he called out. The quartermaster offered a sweeping bow by way of greeting. “And this time you bring us a precious gift. Please come in. Come in,” he said, speaking to the women for the first time.
He exchanged a brief look with another man, who stood silently next to the minister.
He wasn’t tall and had blunt features and a piercing dark gaze that seemed out of place in a pale face framed by fair hair.
A fat pearl earring dangled from his left earlobe, and he wore a pristine white ruff and a richly embroidered velvet coat with matching breeches, unlike the governor, whose attire was very fine but more casual.
He frowned and turned to Governor Yeardley once it became evident that all the women were inside the church.
“There are only ten,” he complained. “Captain Robeson was authorized to deliver twelve brides.”
“I’m sorry, Secretary Hunt, but we were unable to procure two more suitable women without delaying our voyage by several weeks.” The secretary nodded but looked sour as he gazed over the now-nervous men.
Master Harrington extracted a folded sheet of paper from the pocket of his doublet and handed it to the minister, who unfolded it and scanned the contents, his lips moving as he silently read the names.
He looked at the assorted men and called out two names.
The two men reluctantly stood, their faces drooping with disappointment.
“Better luck next time, gentlemen,” Governor Yeardley said. He patted the man closest to him on the back in a gesture of support, and the man gave him a watery smile before walking down the nave toward the door.
“Very good. Shall we proceed?” the minister asked, deferring to Governor Yeardley .
“By all means, Reverend.”
The reverend nodded and looked over the assembled company.
He was younger than any clergyman Mary had ever seen and had the physique of someone who spent his days toiling in the fields rather than spreading the word of God.
In fact, Governor Yeardley appeared to be the oldest person in the church, being close to forty, in her estimation.
“Good afternoon. My name is Reverend Edison,” the minister announced.
“Welcome to Virginia. Let us take a moment to praise the Good Lord for delivering you all safely to our shores before we proceed.” The reverend bowed his head and waited for everyone else to do the same, then began to pray.
The men bristled with impatience, but Reverend Edison wouldn’t be rushed. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
“Shall we get on with it, Reverend?” Governor Yeardley prompted him as soon as he finished with a heartfelt “Amen.”
“Certainly. I will read out the name of the man, followed by the name of his intended. When your name is called, come and stand in front of the pulpit, side by side.”
Reverend Edison finally began, and the women took their places next to their future husbands.
The couples were silent, studying each other and smiling shyly as they tried to reconcile what they’d imagined these past months to reality.
None of the men were very handsome. They were a rough lot, hardened by backbreaking work and toughened by lack of affection.
Two of the men were probably the smiths, judging by their soot-covered hands, and they stood stiff-backed and proud next to Faith and Prudence, whose hands were clasped.
At least the sisters won’t be separated , Mary thought as she waited her turn.
Her head snapped up when she heard Nell’s name. Nell squeezed her hand and went to join a heavyset, bushy-haired man with a beard so thick it resembled a bird’s nest. Nell smiled at him, and he lit up, strong white teeth flashing within the beard .
Several more names were called, including those of Betsy and her intended.
He looked at her with open admiration and smiled happily, making Betsy blush.
Her future husband was tall and broad with clear blue eyes and a mane of dark hair tied back with a leather thong.
His nose was a bit crooked, as if it’d been broken in a fight and hadn’t healed properly, but otherwise, he was one of the more attractive men in the church.
Betsy stole a peek at Mary and smiled broadly.
She could have done worse, her gaze was saying.
Gwen had been paired with the oldest looking of the men. He had to be around thirty-five and had a pinched look on his gaunt face. His nostrils flared with distaste when he beheld his bride, and he had the air of a man about to be led to the scaffold. Mary thought they were perfectly matched.
“John Forrester, Mary Wilby.”
Mary’s gaze flew to the man who stood and came toward her.
He smiled, revealing surprisingly straight white teeth.
He wasn’t obviously handsome, possibly because he was whippet-thin and had a narrow, suntanned face, but he had kind brown eyes and sandy hair that was neatly brushed from his brow and tied back with a black ribbon.
His clothes weren’t fashionable, but he looked clean and tidy, which was more than she could say for some of the others, who looked as if they’d come into Jamestown directly from laboring in a field.
She suddenly realized that it was very likely they had.
They’d had no way of knowing when the ship would arrive or when it would be time to claim their brides, and their farms couldn’t be neglected.
Once all ten couples stood facing the pulpit, the reverend gazed at them solemnly and opened his Bible to a page he had marked with a red ribbon. He seemed ready to begin when Governor Yeardley held up his hand and smiled apologetically.
“I’d like to say a few words before the ceremony, if I may,” the governor said. “Once you’re wed, you’ll be too eager to go home to spare me even a few moments,” he joked. “And I certainly don’t blame you, given the obvious charms of our long-awaited brides.”
He beamed at the assembled couples. “Dear ladies, I welcome you to Jamestown and wish you much joy in your new life. Until you began to arrive, our little colony was nothing more than a primitive outpost, but now it’s a thriving community that will continue to grow through the new families we will create today.
” He raised his eyes to the rafters and intoned, “‘And God blessed them, and God said unto them, Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.’ Reverend Edison, whenever you’re ready. ”
Reverend Edison nodded and began.