Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (42 page)

Emily said, “Hello, Hugh.”

Elyoner nodded. “Indeed it does, Master Tayler.” She looked at Emily. “Time to feed Virginia and Henry. We’ll talk later, Em.”

Emily nodded then faced Tayler, who said, “Emily, you’ve been very difficult to locate these last few days. Seems like a year since we talked.”

Emily had avoided Tayler since George asked her if he was courting her. Something about the word
courting
was wrong—perhaps the feel of it, the newness, or the implied commitment and surrender of freedom. Regardless, the sound of the word gave her a strange, uncomfortable sensation, like a pair of shoes that doesn’t fit. She’d wanted more time to think, to decide if courtship was what she truly wanted, to crystallize and confront the disquieting uncertainty that hovered in the back of her mind like a bad memory. “Sorry, Hugh. I’ve been busy preparing for the voyage . . . and learning how to gut deer.” She held up her hands, which still had specks of blood on them. “I’ve also been a bit upset at your telling people we’re courting. I realize ’tis not a secret, but I thought ’twas between the two of us.”

“I’m sorry, Emily. I was quite excited . . . mayhap
too
excited. I only told a few people, but ’twas apparently big news and spread quickly. And you’re right. It
is
between you and me. Can you walk with me awhile?”

She smiled. “Of course.”

As they walked toward the most uninhabited part of the village, he took her hand in his, immediately felt the familiar, warm rush to his head
and loin; he marveled that she still affected him so, like the first time they’d touched, wondered what would happen when they were truly alone together. “Did you and Elyoner find your locket?” He felt Emily’s hand tense.

“No. We looked everywhere, crawled around on our hands and knees where . . . where the Savage threw me to the ground and hit me. Not there. Not anywhere around the . . . the massacre site. We could still see Joyce and Audrey’s blood on the grass where they fell.” A knot of nausea grew in the pit of her stomach, started to rise as she visualized the two lying dead on the ground. But an empty void displaced the nausea, and an ache squeezed her heart like an overzealous handshake when she thought of her locket, gone forever.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Emily. Will you look for it again before we leave? I’d be happy to help.”

“Perhaps. It has to be there somewhere . . . but our search was very thorough . . . to the point of pushing blades of grass back and forth. But yes, I
would
like to search one last time. And thank you for offering, Hugh. If they can spare the soldiers to guard us, we’ll try again.”

“At your service, Milady. And did your father tell you what he and I talked about outside that night?” He frowned as he spoke the words.

“Indeed, he did, and I’m sorry ’twas bad news . . . also sorry I was so rude to Father . . . and in front of
you
, as well.”

He chuckled. “I knew what you were thinking, so I wasn’t surprised you reacted that way. And as far as the election, I was angry about it at first, but I’ve swallowed my disappointment. Lieutenant Waters is a fine young officer, and all respect him. So I’ve no complaint about the choice.”

His concession surprised Emily. She’d expected anger, resentment, wondered why there was none. “No offense, but I have to agree. ’Twould be difficult to argue against the choice.”

He nodded. In truth, it piqued him that they’d considered Waters superior to him, though he painfully acknowledged it was true. But I’ll be an Assistant in time, he thought. Something will happen to one of them—a resignation, an untimely death. Whatever it is, I’ll be there.

They had reached the palisades behind a solitary cottage at the south end of the village. Tayler faced her, held her hands, smiled. “Shall we sit and talk, Milady?”

“Certainly, kind sir,” she said with mock formality.

When he had guided her to the grass and seated himself, he said, “Emily, have you ever been in love?”

He’d surprised her again. “Well . . . I think so, but I was quite young, and it may have been infatuation.” She again visualized her risky escapade with the young lad she’d lain with in the warm, soft moonlight of a summer night—flushed with desire and curiosity, kissing, exploring each other’s bodies, heart and breath racing, risking her virginity in a moment of steamy passion. Yes, she well knew how quickly the best of judgment, the most heartfelt of moral commitments, could melt away in the frenzy of passion.

“What happened?”

“He went with his family to another part of England, and that was the end of it. And you, Hugh Tayler?”

He looked away from her, stared at the ground. “We were deeply in love, were to be married in several months, but . . . but she caught a strange sickness and died in a week’s time. I was heartbroken for more than a year, unable to do anything but think of her, dream of what might have been. ’Twas painful, Emily.” He saw the girl in his mind, felt a twinge of guilt for the way he’d treated her, repressed it, telling himself that had been the
old
Hugh Tayler, that the
new
Hugh Tayler was a different man. He also pushed away the nagging fear that upon his death, he
might
be held accountable for his sins, and it was this nagging uncertainty that made him desperately afraid of death, for though he didn’t believe in God—or at least told himself so—the possibility that he
could
be wrong ate at his soul like a slow cancer consuming a life.

Emily shook her head. “Hugh, I continue to ask you things that bring back horrible memories and hurt you to talk about. Your life seems to have been one painful moment after another. Tell me something good that’s happened to you.”

He turned slowly toward her, his face suddenly sharp and alive with sincerity. “Emily, the best thing that’s ever happened to me was meeting
you, and I’m deeply in love with you, uncontrollably so, unable to be without you.”

Emily maintained a steady, expressionless gaze. “Hugh . . .”

“Emily, ’tis true. When you were wounded, I was destroyed, ready to die, ready to kill myself if you died. I . . . I’ve made no secret of my plans for our future together here in Virginia, and I—”

“Hugh . . . you mustn’t speak so. I . . . I don’t mean to sound like I don’t feel strongly for you . . . I do, but . . . but ’tis just too fast for me. I haven’t discovered my true feelings yet, and I . . .” Emily felt trapped, enclosed in a box with all six sides closing in. It was too much, too soon; she wasn’t ready for such declarations nor for the reply she’d have to give. It had been difficult with George, but this was worse because she was strongly attracted to him.

“I understand, Emily, and I don’t know why I blurted out the truth like that . . . except that I’m an impatient sort. A mature man should be coy and aloof . . . and I usually am, but I simply can’t be that way with you. You strip away every facade I ever had, make me feel like a bumbling young schoolboy.”

“Now you’ve embarrassed me again, Hugh Tayler.”

“I’m sorry, Em. But I had to say it, and I understand your hesitation. You
are
much younger than I, and this
has
been quick . . . too quick for you to know where your heart stands. Truly, I
do
understand; but Emily, I will wait for you to know your heart . . . as long as it takes. And I know in my own heart that one day, you and I will be man and wife.”

The fishermen had fished the sound with limited success, and to their disquietude, the crew on the shallop had twice seen Savages watching them, both from dugout canoes and from the mainland. They had found the Savages’ presence unnerving and thus rowed around to the east side of Roanoke Island, fishing north and south up and down the sound rather than in the sound at the mouth of the river to the island’s north. On a third occasion, three dugouts had followed the shallop into the sound and approached
to within fifty yards before stopping. The Savages had raised their bows and taunted the colonists, further unnerving them because they had only a single longbow onboard. After that every fishing sortie carried at least three longbows, a healthy supply of arrows, and one matchlock. Then the day before the second voyage, two dugouts approached to thirty yards, suddenly turned broadside, and sent a swarm of arrows flying at the shallop, two of which found their marks—one hitting Richard Kemme in the chest, just inside the shoulder, and the other grazing Martyn Sutton’s neck. The dugouts immediately turned away and paddled for the mainland.

While Kemme screamed and Sutton groaned, John Cheven, the helmsman, turned the shallop broadside to the fleeing Savages and said, “Nock your arrows men, and let ’em fly before the bastards are out of range.” The three longbowmen loosed two quick volleys of arrows at the narrow dugouts, which were separating rapidly from the shallop; and though the distance had widened to fifty yards, the powerful longbows imparted enough energy for the arrows to strike with lethal impact, hitting one Savage in the neck, throwing him overboard, and two others in the back.

A cheer rose from the shallop, drowned out the Savages’ taunts. Cheven said, “Maybe that’ll give ’em some respect for English longbows . . . filthy jackanapes.”

After the encounter, Roger Baylye decided that even though they had held their own and the two wounded men would recover, the risk of losing the shallop or having more people injured or killed outweighed the benefit of several more days of marginal fishing. He therefore halted fishing, except for crabbing and oyster gathering from the shore with guards present; but with seeming inconsistency, he allowed salting operations to continue. He then ruminated about his decision—admitted they needed both food and salt, decided they could manage without more fish but could
not
manage without additional salt to preserve the meat and fish they would harvest at Chesapeake for winter, noted that the shallop could row or sail from the east side of the island to the outer banks undetected by the Savages to the west—concluded that the greater need justified the risk.

Thomas and Emily Colman placed their belongings with those of the Dares at the baggage marshaling point for loading and transport to Chesapeake on the second voyage. While Ananias and Thomas spoke with several other men, Emily walked to Elyoner’s cottage to say her goodbyes.

Staring pensively at Elyoner, Emily watched her nurse Virginia, imagined herself doing the same as soon as they were all safely at Chesapeake. She thought of her excitement that very morning when she’d expressed several solid streams of milk, then hoped the time would go fast, that the two remaining voyages would be uneventful, that the Chesapeake would be everything they so desperately needed it to be. She then thought of her lost locket, felt a prick to her heart as she admitted she’d never see or hold it again. The day before, she and Hugh Tayler had searched vainly; concluded that someone had stepped on it, forcing it into the ground beneath a clump of grass; realized it was gone forever. She felt she’d betrayed her mother’s trust, knew the pain of its loss would remain long after they were reunited in a few short months.

With a spacey, unseeing look on her face, she thought of George then of Hugh Tayler; she felt an anguished tightness inside, a tightness born of aggravated frustration over her relationships, frustration because she was loved but unable to return that love in like manner.

Elyoner said, “Emily! Are you asleep with your eyes open, girl? I’ve been talking to you for ten seconds . . . you haven’t heard a word.”

Emily shook her head quickly as if to wake herself. “Oh. Sorry, Ellie. Too deep in thought, I suppose.”

“I see that. And what troubles you, my dear friend?”

“Men . . . two men . . . both of whom say they love me and want to marry me, and neither of whom I’m able to love in return . . . at least not in the same way they love me. I told the first I love him as a friend, and the other that I
may
love him but am not yet sure. Both vowed to wait as long as it takes, and I’m here thinking ’tis all far too fast.” She shook her head. “ ’Tis so frustrating, Ellie. Why is this happening to me . . . and what am I to do?”