Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) (18 page)

But Jocelyn Colman held tender feelings for him.
He could see it in her glance, in the gentle way she inclined toward him when they spoke together. He never dreamed she’d agree to marry him. In truth, on the day when he’d emerged from the stinking orlop deck caked in filth, he had hoped she’d run from his proposal as if the hounds of hell were giving chase. But she hadn’t. Somehow, through some miracle, she had agreed to give herself to him.

Did he feel so grateful that he had begun to act the part of husband?
Eleanor Dare said she saw signs of love. Thomas did not know how that could be so, for after his wife’s death he had vowed never to love a woman again. But Jocelyn did move him—he could not help but admire her gentleness and wit, and despite his chaste intentions he found himself enticed by her eyes and the tangled ringlets of her hair. What man would not want to ensnare his fingers in that golden brown mesh?

Of all the women aboard ship, only her glance had the power to make his heart pound like a drum.
‘Twas it only a fleshly response to her beauty or a God-given impulse? Thomas could not tell, but the carefree days of sun and wind and seashore had relaxed him. He had no real ministerial duties yet, no reason to position himself as an example or rein in his thoughts.

Why not woo the woman who had become his wife?

On July twenty-fifth, the fourth day of work, a horn blew unexpectedly from the
Lion
at midday. Nervous flutterings pricked Jocelyn’s chest as her uncle and a group of his assistants raced toward the beach. With oars askew in panic, the shallop set out immediately for the ship while Eleanor and Agnes clutched each other in fear. Had Spaniards attacked? Had the two deserters sealed the colonists’ doom in their eagerness to be free?

The men and women remaining on Roanoke rushed to secure the fort in case of attack.
Jocelyn and Audrey left the field where they had been planting and raced to the fort with the others. Edward Powell appointed armed men to stand atop the earthworks to scout for enemies, and Jocelyn found her eyes wandering throughout the milling crowd inside the fort. Thomas was nowhere in sight. Had he gone with the shallop back to the ship?

The shallop returned within the hour, however, and John White and his assistants wore triumphant smiles as they stepped ashore.
“Captain Spicer’s flyboat has finally arrived, with Manteo and Towaye safely aboard,” White reported to the anxious colonists who streamed from the safety of the fort. “There is no need to fear this day. Our colony is complete.”

The arrival of the flyboat brought great cause for rejoicing, for the boat contained not only the Indians and additional men for the colony, but badly needed stores of wheat, tools, and goods for eventual bartering with the Indians.

That night White welcomed the new men with a great feast inside the fort.
As the colonists gathered around the large fire pit where two deer roasted over the flames, the governor proudly reported that the City of Raleigh at Roanoke, now complete, would sleep this night under its own protection and upon English soil.

From her place near her uncle, Jocelyn
’s eyes searched round the circle of celebrants until she spied Thomas. He wore a white cotton shirt, open at the neck and smudged with dirt. Bronzed from four days in the blistering sun, with his hair unkempt and touching his shoulders, he looked taller, darker, and less like a minister than ever. She had not seen him all day, and the sight of his easy, relaxed smile above the fire made her catch her breath.

She watched him in fascination.
The past days of hard work had calmed him somehow, for Jocelyn had never seen him in this light. Kneeling by the fire, one arm carelessly resting on his knee, Thomas joked with the men at his side, drank freely from the mug of ale passed round the circle, and even joined in one of the sea shanties the men began to sing:

Oh, the gov’nor is a gentleman of rank and sway,

The sea will prove his fortune should he go her way.

Jocelyn felt someone nudge her shoulder.
“Don’t you think I see ye peerin’ at your husband?” Audrey said, sinking to Jocelyn’s side in the sand. “He looks right handsome at this moment, I’d have to agree.”

“
Yes, he does,” Jocelyn whispered, turning from the sight of the men with reluctance. She gave Audrey a teasing smile. “And who would you be watching amongst yonder men?”

“
Ah, ‘tis no secret, that,” Audrey answered, swiveling her blue eyes toward another group of men across the circle. “‘Tis a bit strange, mind ye, but William’s gone and said he wants to marry me as soon as he’s able.”

“
You’d leave me?” Jocelyn pretended to be shocked, though she had been aware of Audrey’s infatuation with William Clement for over a month. “Faith, Audrey, what would I do without you?”

Audrey pushed her bottom lip forward in a pout.
“You’d do fine, and ye know it, miss. Anyway, we’re supposed to be free to chose our own course here in Virginia and—”

“
You are free,” Jocelyn answered, leaning against Audrey’s shoulder affectionately. “If y’want to marry William Clement, I’ll not stop you. But I hear he’s bound to Roger Bailie for life, so he’ll have to gain Master Bailie’s permission.”

“
Aye, but ‘e won’t be bound long. Master Bailie is sixty years if he’s a day,” Audrey pointed out. “And mayhap he’s a kind-hearted soul who wouldn’t be against a servant marrying. I’d serve Master Bailie too, if I could be married to William. He’d be getting two pairs of hands, and at his age, he’s likely to be needing them.”

The flames of the fire before them danced in the wind and Jocelyn let her eyes follow a stream of sparks that whirled off into the darkness.
“I’ll miss you, Audrey,” Jocelyn said, nudging her maid.

The younger girl
’s lip quivered, and she threw her arms around Jocelyn. “In truth, I’ll miss ye, too, miss. But ‘tisn’t like we’ll never see each other again.”

“
Not in this place,” Jocelyn answered, laughing.

Audrey released Jocelyn and looked at the ground.
“‘Twould be well done, me marrying or moving out,” she whispered. “I know ye are anxious to be alone with your new husband—”

“
Cry you mercy,” Jocelyn answered, jerking away in sudden annoyance. Hadn’t the girl seen anything? Thomas had scarcely spoken to her since their marriage, and surely he was in no hurry to spend a night alone with his wife.

“
Audrey,” she said, smiling at the girl, “you may stay with me as long as you like. Mark me, I’m in no hurry to have you away.”

John White stood and removed his cap.
“I believe ‘tis time to ask God’s blessing on our settlement here,” he said, looking around the circle until his eyes stopped on Thomas Colman. “Will you, Reverend, lead us in a prayer?”

An almost imperceptible change seemed to come over Thomas as he stood.
The casual smile disappeared, his face lengthened, his eyes instantly became more somber. ‘Twas almost as if he had donned his black doublet and cloak, Jocelyn thought, though he still wore the rough work shirt of the day.

The minister thrust his hands behind his back, deepened his voice, and frowned as he bowed his head.
But despite the seriousness of his demeanor, his voice surrounded the company like a warm embrace in the chill air of early evening: “Our Master and God, we stand before you as unworthy creatures who dare to beg for your guidance, wisdom, and protection in the days ahead. We thank thee for bringing our brothers to us safely. We thank thee for these houses and supplies we found waiting here. We thank thee for this food, these fellow workers, these leaders who labor under your divine grace. Protect us, oh God, and keep us from sin. In the most holy name of Christ, our Lord, Amen.”

Jocelyn lifted her eyes, stirred by the beauty of his words.
Not for him memorized petitions from the
Book of Common Prayer
or memorized and oft-quoted psalms. His words came easily, as if he spoke to God often.

Suddenly she felt the admiring and faintly jealous eyes of other women upon her, and she blushed and looked at the ground.
She had spent all day planting wheat with the other women and not once had any of them remarked upon her marriage. But now that they had seen him in the firelight and heard his voice of authority, well . . .

She lifted her head and gave all who watched her a tight, defiant smile.
‘Tis not me he loves,
she wanted to tell them.
Though I sleep in his house and share his name, his heart will never be mine. Envy me not.

The other women, seeing her smile, turned away without a word, save for the devout and most pious Beth Glane, whose eyes burned with disapproval.

After the festive dinner of venison, dried peas, and dandelion greens, the women stood to put the utensils away while the men banked the fire for the night. Eleanor came near and tugged gently on Jocelyn’s sleeve. “I pray you, dear coz,” she whispered, “lend me your maid tonight. Agnes is frightened to sleep alone in her room, and you will have your husband for company.”

Jocelyn
’s smile froze on her face. Send Audrey away? She couldn’t face Thomas alone, but if Eleanor’s request was

sincere
—

“
Is anything amiss, Mistress Colman?” Thomas’ voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He had come to stand behind her as the company broke up, and Jocelyn was so distracted by his presence that she could not answer.

“
I need your Audrey tonight,” Eleanor said, nodding formally out of respect to the minister. “Agnes fears an Indian attack and will not sleep alone till we have passed a night safely in this place. Indeed,” she laughed and smiled, “I don’t know if Agnes will ever be willing to sleep alone.”

“
I don’t think I can spare—” Jocelyn began, sputtering helplessly, but Thomas raised a hand and smiled at Eleanor.

“
If you have need of aught, cousin, you have but to ask. We will send Audrey to you immediately.”

“
My thanks to you,” Eleanor said, dimpling, and Jocelyn stared at her husband through a lace of confused thoughts. Why would he send Audrey away? Could he possibly want—

Nay,
The voice of common sense interrupted her flight of fantasy. He had agreed to send Audrey because ministers naturally wanted to serve others. Eleanor had a need; he was happy to meet it. And as a minister’s wife, she would have to be among the first to volunteer her servant, her time, her energy. She felt her cheeks burn with shame. He must think her terribly selfish for trying to keep Audrey at her side . . .

“
Have I done anything to displease you?” Thomas’ voice was low in her ear.

“
No,” she said, tipping her mouth in a faint smile. “You have done nothing amiss.”

Night had spread its dark mantle fully over the island by the time guards were posted and the families sent to their homes.
Raucous laughter echoed from the barracks of the unmarried men, and Jocelyn wished for a moment that the houses were lined in rows rather than in a circle—it felt strangely indecent to slip through the doorway of her house with her husband while ten single men across the way watched with indolent eyes as she closed the low door and barred it shut.

The interior of the house was as black as pitch and Jocelyn laughed nervously as Thomas stumbled among their few furnishings to find the lantern.
“I’m sorry, but I haven’t been here since this morning,” she said, rubbing her hands briskly over her arms to fight off a sudden chill. The sleeves she wore were fresh from her trunk, as was the bodice and kirtle. The dress was of common fabric and undecorated, but the color was deep blue, the same shade as her eyes—had he noticed? Despite the rough, workday fabric of the dress, she had felt like a queen in a ball gown when she put it on. ‘Twas a glorious difference after over ten weeks of rough shipboard life in her old dress . . .

She heard Thomas
’ footstep on the small hearth she had dug and laid with stones, then the metallic sound of the box that held a glowing lump of charcoal. His face leapt from the darkness as he held a long wick to the coal, but there was no look of the minister about him now. In the loose, open-collared work shirt, with his dark hair askew and windblown, he seemed a pirate worthy of battle even with Simon Fernandes.

In a moment the wick was ablaze, in another the lamp was lit.

Jocelyn gasped as light filled the room. When she had left the house earlier, the only furnishings inside were three trunks, a small table, and a wooden stool, but now a bed dominated the corner of the room. ‘Twas a proper bed, too, with four rough-hewn posts, curtains of white cambric, and a stuffed mattress. She could not speak, but shifted her gaze from the bed to the amazing stranger who stood beside her.

His eyes, dark as the night, swept her face for a response.
“Do y’like it?” he asked, his voice low and searching. “I wanted you to be surprised.”

“
I am,” she whispered, barely able to find her voice. She put her hand on the bedpost and felt the raised grain of the newly stripped wood. He had carved the posts, hammered the frame, stuffed the mattress—all for her? No other man in the colony had done as much for his wife; not even Eleanor would sleep tonight in a bed as fine as this one. But then again, Eleanor slept not with her husband for the first time—