Page 34 of The Condemned (Echoes from the Past #6)
TWENTY-SIX
Virginia Colony
The church was stifling, the stagnant air reeking of sweltering bodies.
Mary fidgeted on the hard bench, wishing the sermon would end.
Reverend Edison was in the throes of preaching on the virtues of loving thy neighbor, a subject no doubt inspired by a brawl that had taken place in the tavern a few days ago, resulting in the death of a settler.
Although the reason for the disagreement was still unclear, the two men responsible for the murder would be tried immediately after the service.
Mary fixed her eyes on the reverend, but her mind drifted out of the church and into the cool forest. She’d gone back to the creek numerous times after Walker, as she’d come to think of him, had stormed off.
She bathed more than she ever had, washed everyone’s undergarments, and having successfully made herself a straw hat, offered to make one for Travesty.
Walker had not returned, and as time passed, Mary had begun to feel gnawing guilt in her gut.
He’d seemed genuinely shocked when she accused him of lying.
He hadn’t looked like a man who’d been caught out, but rather a man whose pride had been wounded.
Perhaps he’d never known his mother and had been told she was an Englishwoman.
He was wrong, of course, but if he truly believed he was telling the truth, was it still a lie?
Mary shifted her bottom again, growing increasingly uncomfortable.
She’d asked herself again and again why she longed for the Indian to come back.
He was nothing to her, a mere curiosity, but given John’s increasing aloofness, Simon’s baffling over-familiarity, and Travesty’s nearly impenetrable sullenness, Walker seemed like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day.
There was something in his gray gaze that lifted the spirit and offered a glimpse into another world, a world that was so unimaginably different from her own.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, especially about native women.
What were their lives like? Did they have choices that her countrywomen didn’t?
At times it seemed that a woman’s only mark on this world was the headstone she left behind.
If she had no children, it was almost as if her life had never happened.
She simply vanished from the world, quickly forgotten, like Mary’s own mother.
No one except Mary kept the memory alive, but after all these years, the image of her mother was fading from her mind, the sound of her voice receding into the mist of time that separated them.
Mary wondered morosely if that would be her fate as well, as Reverend Edison droned on.
Who would care if she died? John certainly wouldn’t, since he didn’t seem to have developed any feelings for her.
They had been married for only two months, a very short time, but Nell had been right when she’d said you just knew about a man.
John was courteous and not unkind; that was the best she could say of him.
She saw some of the other women she’d arrived with aboard the Lady Grace .
They sat close to their husbands, looks of contentment on their faces.
They weren’t permitted to display any affection in church, but there were the warm looks, the casual touches of the hand, and the solicitous way the husbands escorted their wives from the church and to their wagons.
John usually just walked out, assuming Mary would follow.
If anyone tried to touch her, it was Simon, who never missed an opportunity to get too close, making her feel threatened rather than admired.
Mary’s hand instinctively went to her belly.
She’d had her courses only last week. When she’d seen the blood, she hadn’t been sure if she was relieved or disappointed.
A baby would give her life greater meaning, but did she want to be one of the first women to bring a child into this primitive place?
There wasn’t even a midwife to help the women of Jamestown when their time came.
Of course, the Virginia Company, in their wisdom, hadn’t thought to send out a midwife along with the dozens of women they were shipping to the colony .
Another shipload had arrived only a fortnight ago, the women comely and young, and frightened.
Another spate of weddings had taken place, to the great delight of the governor, who was said to have made a pretty speech of welcome.
Perhaps, in time, they would send out enough women for all the men, but according to Secretary Hunt, who also enjoyed making speeches on behalf of the Virginia Company—mainly after service on Sunday—the male population of the colony neared one thousand souls.
Hundreds of men longed for wives and hoped that this was the beginning of a new policy of the Virginia Company. They prayed more ships would come.
John’s face was tense with concentration as he listened to the reverend’s words.
He was one of the few people paying attention.
Mary wondered why John had got a wife while hundreds of others hadn’t.
She could hardly ask him. Perhaps it was because his plantation was doing well, or maybe because he happened to have a good relationship with Secretary Hunt, who probably made the selection.
Whatever the reason, there were men who truly longed for companionship and love, but John Forrester wasn’t one of them.
The service over at last, Mary followed Simon and Travesty outside, while John remained inside for the trial.
Mary took her place in line at the well, desperate for a cup of water.
The sun beat down on her shoulders and she was glad of the hat shielding her face.
She’d just taken a drink when she saw several Indians walking through the gate.
Her belly fluttered with sudden nervousness, since one of them was Walks Between Worlds.
His gait was relaxed, but she noted the rigid set of his shoulders and the thin line of his lips.
He wasn’t at ease. The other two men didn’t seem similarly affected, but they walked in silence, their heads held high.
They knew they were being watched by every colonist in Jamestown.
The men were headed for Governor Yeardley’s residence when someone informed them that the governor wouldn’t be able to receive them until after the trial.
The Indians settled in to wait, their expressions stony as they watched the settlers, who milled around in eager anticipation.
There weren’t many trials in Virginia, according to the talk around the well, and there hadn’t been a murder trial in years.
Maybe not ever. Many of the settlers were relatively new to the colony, and this was the most excitement they’d had, save the arrival of the women.
“We should go back to the wagon,” Simon said. “It’s cooler beyond the gates and less crowded.”
Mary would have liked to spend some time in the company of Nell and Betsy, whose husbands were also inside the church, but most of the women headed toward their wagons, uncomfortable in the presence of so many overexcited men.
Simon was right. It was best they leave.
Travesty fell into step with him, but Mary hung back as they approached the Indians, who were standing by the gate, talking quietly amongst themselves.
Walker’s eyes bore into her, his expression hard, his cheeks mottled with anger. He hadn’t forgiven her the insult.
Mary dipped in front of him, as if taking a pebble out of her shoe. She looked up, glad he was still watching her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please forgive me.”
His expression changed little, but there was a thawing in his gray eyes. He didn’t say anything but inclined his head a fraction, letting her know he’d heard her apology.
“Mistress, are you all right?” Simon asked when he realized she wasn’t walking directly behind him. He returned for her and took her arm. “Was that savage bothering you?” he asked loudly.
“Not at all. There was a pebble in my shoe.”
“I don’t like the way he was looking at you,” Simon growled.
“How was he looking at me?” Mary inquired as they walked toward the wagon.
“With insolence,” Simon retorted .
Mary had to stifle a giggle. If anyone was insolent, it was Simon. He was still holding her close, a familiarity that was completely unnecessary, given that she was in no danger. She pulled her arm free and sat on the grass in the shade of Betsy’s wagon. Nell joined them as well.
“My arse is numb,” Betsy proclaimed, making them laugh. “If that pompous windbag went on any longer, I think I might have pissed myself. There’s only so long a woman can hold her water.”
“He is longwinded,” Nell agreed. “Good thing you have padding, Betsy. Imagine how we bony-arsed girls feel.”
Betsy patted her ample rump with a smile. “My Silas is inordinately fond of my padding,” she said as she tried to stifle a giggle. “Says it’s like sleeping on a cloud.”
“Are you sure it’s your arse he’s referring to?” Nell asked, giving Betsy’s overflowing bodice a meaningful look.
“Whichever it is, he’s a happy man,” Betsy replied. “And that makes me a happy woman. Never thought I’d enjoy having a man of my own so much,” she confessed.
Nell nodded in agreement. “I like my Tom as well.” Both women turned to Mary, awaiting her contribution. She simply nodded, as if agreeing with them.
“That Simon’s a handsome devil,” Betsy remarked. “I wager many a woman would overlook his questionable past to get him into her bed.”
“What do you know of his past?” Mary asked. Simon never spoke of his life in England, and she hadn’t asked, not wishing to encourage his interest in her.
“Oh, nothing,” Betsy replied. “But most indentures have been sent down for some crime, haven’t they? He might be a murderer. ”
Mary stared at Simon, who was talking to Travesty. He was smiling into her eyes and standing closer to her than an unmarried man should.
“I should hope not,” Nell said, peering at Simon as if she could tell just by looking at him. “Mary, what was he sent down for?”
“I don’t know. I never asked. I’m sure John knows.”
“You should ask him,” Betsy suggested. “You should know what type of person you’re living with.” She looked around in irritation. “I want my dinner,” she complained. “How long does it take to try someone?”
“Not that long, apparently,” Nell said when a commotion erupted within the settlement. “The trial must be over. Now the poor buggers will face their fate.”
Mary stared at her. It hadn’t occurred to her that the men might be executed.
It was a tavern brawl, and by all accounts, the dead man had started it.
Surely that counted in the accused’s favor.
Mary sprang to her feet when she saw John emerging from the gate.
He bowed stiffly to Nell and Betsy and beckoned to Mary to return to their wagon.
“Let’s go home,” he said and climbed onto the bench. “I’ve done my part.”
“Are they to hang, master?” Travesty asked from the back.
“Many called for execution, but the governor decided on leniency, given that they hadn’t started the fight. They’re to be flogged this afternoon, after the governor has his dinner and concludes his business with the Indians.”
“The governor must have his dinner,” Simon scoffed. “At least the man has his priorities straight.”
“Simon!” John said sharply. Simon went quiet, but his mouth was still twisted in a sarcastic grin .
“I’m ready for my dinner,” John said in an effort to lighten the atmosphere in the wagon. “And then I will go to the creek and have a well-deserved bath. It was stifling in that church. Join me, Simon. The afternoon service has been canceled, due to the flogging.”
“With pleasure. If Reverend Edison will only make us sit through one sermon on Sundays, I hope they flog someone every week,” Simon said.
It was a blasphemous thing to say, but Mary suspected they all secretly agreed.
Having to endure two services on Sundays was torture, especially since all the settlers worked their land six days a week and had animals to tend to.
“Oh, I do look forward to the weather cooling down,” Travesty said as she pulled her hat lower over her eyes. “’Tis like the fires of hell, this heat. I’d never known anything like it before coming here.”
“In England, they have fires burning in the grate all through the summer,” Simon said, sounding wistful.
“Aye, it was cold and wet, but I miss it,” Travesty said with a dramatic sigh. “I miss it all.”
“As do I,” John agreed. “I wonder if I’ll ever see the shores of England again.”
A silence settled over them as they contemplated their chances of ever going home, knowing it wasn’t likely. For better or worse, their futures were tied to the fortunes of the Virginia Colony.