Page 26 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)

“I wasted away day by day. The only thing that kept me tethered to this world was the fear of my body being thrown overboard, my remains devoured by sea creatures. The sailors carried me ashore on a wooden plank when we arrived and laid me down in the church, certain I would die before the week was out. No one wanted to bother with me. They’d have left me to die, had the master not taken pity on me and purchased my indenture contract.

Had I died, he’d have lost his money, but he brought me back to the cabin and nursed me back to health.

It took weeks for me to leave my bed, but once I did, I swore I’d devote my life to repaying his kindness. ”

“Travesty, how did you come to be here?” Mary asked.

“I’m not a criminal, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” Travesty snapped.

Mary swallowed back a retort. Innocent people didn’t get sent down to Virginia. Most indentured servants were criminals who’d been lucky enough to escape the noose, so Mary had valid reason to assume Travesty was one such case.

“I came here of my own volition.”

“You sold yourself into indenture?” Mary asked, incredulous that anyone would do such a thing.

“Desperate people do desperate things,” Travesty retorted.

Mary sighed. That was something she could understand only too well.

She’d been desperate to escape, and coming across the world to marry a man she’d never set eyes on, who now held her fate in his hands, was nearly as desperate as selling yourself into servitude.

Marriage was servitude, except the contract didn’t expire unless one of the parties died.

“I was destitute and alone. I had nothing left to lose,” Travesty said with a deep sigh.

“I felt much the same when I decided to come out,” Mary said, thinking she might finally establish a bond with the other woman, but Travesty’s head shot up and her eyes bore into Mary. Spots of color appeared on her cheeks.

“Don’t compare yourself to me. You came here knowing you’d be looked after, married to a man who’d consider himself lucky to have you. What have you sacrificed? What have you lost?” Travesty cried angrily.

“What have you sacrificed?” Mary retorted, infuriated by Travesty’s tone and erroneous assumptions. She knew nothing of Mary’s life or the circumstances that had led her to the Lady Grace .

“Nothing. It was all done for me. One day I had a home and a family. I had three children and a loving husband who provided for us. We weren’t wealthy, but we were comfortable, and secure.

” Travesty blinked away tears. “And then the summer of 1618 came. We were happy for the fine weather. It’d been a cold and bitter winter.

The sun shone every day, it seemed—warm, life-giving, beautiful.

But life-giving things can turn ugly,” Travesty said sharply.

“The days grew warmer, and the golden sun warmed the refuse heaps and brought the flies. There’d been no rain for weeks to cleanse the streets.

And then it came, the Black Death. First one case, then another.

The city officials sent searchers. Do you know what searchers are? ” Travesty demanded, hands on hips.

“No, I don’t believe we had them in Plymouth.”

“No, you likely wouldn’t. The searchers went to houses where there’d been a death to assess the cause.

Some were savvy enough to pay off the searchers, to turn them from their door with the verdict of consumption or fever.

But my Stephen was too honest, too na?ve.

When my brother, who lived with us, took sick and died, Stephen allowed the searcher to do his job.

By the end of that day we were locked in, quarantined for forty days, all of us together in one room.

They put a watcher outside our house to make sure we didn’t escape. ”

“I’m sorry, Travesty,” Mary said, only now understanding the horror of what Travesty must have endured.

“My youngest, my only boy, was the first to go, followed by Stephen, then my two girls. I can’t even bring myself to utter their names for fear I won’t be able to recover.

They all died within the first ten days, and I was left to watch them rot.

Oh, the carts came to take away the dead, but I couldn’t bear to part with them.

I couldn’t bear to be left alone. They were taken eventually, to be dumped into a pit and swallowed by the earth, without so much as a word from a minister or a wooden cross to mark their graves.

I spent the rest of the time alone in a house that had been full of life only a fortnight before.

And then I was put out in the street. I had no money to pay for rent or food.

My husband was gone, and I had no way to earn a living, other than to whore. ”

“So, you sold yourself into indenture?”

“It was better than selling myself to countless nameless men. I thought I’d have a chance here.”

In a colony full of unmarried men who’d give anything for the love of a woman , Mary thought. And of all the plantations, you had to end up at one where the master couldn’t be seduced .

“I thought he’d marry me,” Travesty said, smiling bitterly. “I thought he’d elevate me from the pit of hell my life had become, but no, he had no interest in me, despite everything I did to make him happy. Instead, he married you.”

Mary bowed her head and stared at her folded hands.

Why had John married her? He could have just as easily wed Travesty.

She was still young enough to bear children and warm his bed, if that was what he wanted, although she had her doubts on that score.

Mary raised her eyes to Travesty’s still-beautiful face.

No, he wouldn’t have married Travesty. She was a sensual woman, even Mary could see that.

Travesty had been married, had known the love of a man.

She’d have expectations of a husband, she’d make comparisons.

John needed a blank page, a woman who hadn’t been touched, a woman who wouldn’t know the difference between an ardent lover and a man who braced himself for the act that was supposed to come naturally to him.

They’d been wed for over a month, but he’d only touched her twice during that time, and both times had been swift and impersonal, just another task to be performed before finally going to sleep.

“You will be free to marry once your contract is up,” Mary said. She knew that was inadequate consolation, but it was better than nothing.

“Oh yes, won’t I just? That’s five years from now, and I will be thirty by then—old, used up, and barren. It’ll be too late for me, and I’ll be lucky if anyone wants me since I’ll be starting anew with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

“I’ll help you, Travesty. I won’t let John send you away with nothing.”

Travesty’s eyes narrowed in scorn. “If anyone can help me, it’s Simon, not you. You have no say in anything, you foolish girl. No say at all.”

With that, Travesty turned on her heel and stomped toward the cabin, her back ramrod straight, her head held high.

Mary followed on her heels like a dejected puppy.

Travesty was right. Mary had no say in anything and likely never would.

She wasn’t sure what Travesty thought Simon could do for her, but he certainly had more influence with John than the two women ever would, so perhaps he would put in a kind word for his fellow indenture.