Dangerous deceptions, p.4
Dangerous Deceptions, page 4
“In any event,” Captain Phillips went on, “we be settin’ sail today as planned, unless ye’ve decided not to travel with us.” He paused, his eyes a question as he looked at Catherine.
“N-no, sir. Our plans have not changed, sir.”
“Very well, then.”
The captain told Catherine that while aboard ship she would take her meals with the other gentlewomen, whilst Nancy would be obliged to dine . . . ah . . . elsewhere. Relief flooded Catherine, and she relaxed a mite.
The captain led them back into the dining chamber, which in their absence, had thinned out somewhat . . . although, Catherine noted, there was still plenty of delicious-smelling food on the table! A growl of hunger escaped her midsection.
“Newell,” the captain barked to one of the men, “show Miss Fielding and her maid to their cabin and ’ave some victuals brought ’round.”
“GOR-R!” EXCLAIMED NANCY, when they were left alone in a small, neatly furnished cabin tucked in a far corner of the quarterdeck. “I daresay we be right lucky, miss! I feared we was being brought up on charges, and all along we was becoming ‘Important Persons.’ At least, you was, miss!” The relief in her tone echoed that which Catherine felt.
They stood grinning at one another, and when a large wooden tray loaded with food, coddled eggs, thick slices of bacon, warm sourdough bread and mugs of steaming black coffee, was delivered to them, they dug in and ate like starved prisoners.
The high easterly wind that day was more than favorable, and in no time at all, two of the three filled-to-capacity barks put out to sea for the New World. The voyage to Virginia was estimated to take from sixty to eighty days. Near dockside, the George lingered behind. Word was there would be a funeral for the Princess Pocahontas at nearby Gravesend. Catherine realized how lucky she was to have been assigned to the Inverness.
Though the girls’ snug little cabin featured a feather mattress atop a rope bed hanging from the wall, the room was just as cold and drafty as every other nook and cranny on the ship.
After the girls dressed for the day, each headed in different directions to break their fast. Initially, Catherine enjoyed the company of the other women she dined with. From their conversation, it was evident they all possessed some degree of education, as well as a passing knowledge of the social graces. However, Catherine’s remark that her father and brother already had a thriving plantation in Jamestown and that she was to be married as soon as she arrived elicited cool replies.
“How nice for you, Miss Fielding, to already have a home awaiting you in the New World,” said one, whose husband planned to establish an iron-ore company in the Virginia colony.
“The rest of us,” said another, “will be obliged to remain aboard ship until our men folk can build a house, a task which can take weeks.”
“Oh, my,” Catherine murmured, “I had no idea.”
That the other women began to regard her in a less-than-agreeable manner did not lessen Catherine’s excitement a whit. Each and every day, she offered up a prayer of thanksgiving that, at long last, she was, indeed, on her way to her father and brother and . . . most of all, to Noah. She imagined how happy they would be, once wed and settled in their own home. She’d make the house pretty for him, for she loved beautiful things. In due time they’d have a child, with more babes to follow. They’d be a happy, loving family. Surely the good Lord had at last looked down and smiled upon her. Every dream in her heart was coming true.
Though conditions on board ship worsened as the voyage progressed, Catherine clung tenaciously to her dream to see her through what were surely the worst of times.
Eventually the supply of foodstuffs on board ship began to dwindle; the butter, cheese and fish grew rancid, cabbages, turnips, and onions wilted and spoiled. The only thing consistently fresh was the milk that came straight from the cows and goats, but it was generally given only to children and those few men who requested it. However, that too dwindled when the rations set aside to feed the livestock began to give out. Meals soon became no more than a simple pease porridge, or boiled mush served in wooden trenchers along with cold hardtack and brackish water, which grew to taste less and less like water and more and more like . . . Catherine became hard-pressed to say.
For Nancy and the rest of the common folk, meals were served anywhere one could find to sit or stand on deck. The women cooked over open “hearths” which consisted of bricks piled up beneath a tripod from which an iron kettle hung suspended over the flames. In rainy weather, when cooking on the open deck was impossible, lower-deck passengers were served cold victuals near a hatchway that opened onto the hold.
In inclement weather, Catherine chose to leave her private cabin only for meals. The filth and slime that accumulated on deck from the livestock made strolling there unpleasant, even hazardous. A sudden lurch of the ship and one could find oneself slipping and sliding in a mish-mash of foul-smelling dung and other murk and mire. The malodor soon permeated the entire ship and reminded Catherine of Pocahontas’s comment about white man’s ships being dirty. Dirty was putting it mildly, she thought. The ever-present stench from overflowing slop buckets and unwashed bodies soon became overpowering.
At times following a hard rain, the crew made an attempt to swab the deck, but all that effort really netted was to move the filth from one end of the ship to the other. Sewage and masses of dirty rainwater managed to filter through the rotting floorboards of the deck and finally end up in the bilge from which an intolerable and sickening odor emanated.
According to Nancy, who daily associated with the common folk at mealtime, the men and women, whose sleeping quarters were similar to one another’s but located in separate parts of the ship, bunked two and in some cases, three and four to a narrow wooden trough. Both girls felt fortunate they’d been spared that inconvenience and insult to their privacy.
They were not spared all insults, however, as it wasn’t long before the lice, fleas, bedbugs, mice, and rats that plagued both passengers and crew, some who slept in elevated hammocks on deck in an attempt to avoid the vermin, soon infested their secluded cabin. Both girls constantly scratched at red whelps all over their bodies.
“I’m beginning to see why Pocahontas insisted on bathing every day,” Catherine remarked irritably as she strained to scratch a spot in the middle of her back.
“I don’t believe that would help,” Nancy said peevishly as she dug at a whelp on her arm.
“If only we had some cottonweed or fleabane.”
“You know about simples and cures, miss?” Nancy asked with interest.
“A bit.” Catherine nodded. “My mother and grandmother taught me how to make salves and potions from herbs and flowers.”
“Perhaps your cures could have saved those souls already lost on our voyage.” Lung ailments and ship fever had claimed several lives, their bodies slipped overboard into a watery grave. “At least we’ve not come down with anything.”
“Thanks to you,” Catherine replied, referring to the parcel of lemons Nancy had snatched at the last minute the night they fled London.
“If m’brothers hadn’t been sailors, I wouldn’t a’knowed that sucking lemons would keep ship fever at bay. Some men, women, too, got no teeth left. Their mouths and tongues so swelled up, their teeth all fell out!”
Catherine blanched.
“Course if I’d been a-caught stealing lemons from the Montcrief’s, we’d a’both been hanged.”
“Or transported,” Catherine said on a laugh. “Which means we’d have ended up on our way to the New World anyhow.”
Due to a lack of anything better to do, she and Nancy whiled away many long afternoons in relative comfort in their private cabin exchanging plans for their future, as well as telling stories from their respective pasts.
Catherine learned that Nancy Mills’ three brothers were all sailors, and both her sisters had married fishermen who lived in villages dotting the southwesterly coast of England. The day the ship had sailed past that part of England, Nancy spent nearly that whole day up on deck, her gray eyes scanning the shoreline, no doubt thinking about the family she would likely never see again.
From Nancy, Catherine learned there were eighty passengers on board ship, most new settlers bound for Virginia and the promise of new lives. A number of convicts were also aboard, some released from debtors’ prison, their only crime being an inability to pay their debts.
One night as the girls lay in bed quietly talking before they drifted off to sleep, Nancy asked Catherine about her particular status once they reached Virginia. “Seeing as how you done paid my passage, am I to become yer servant, indentured to you and Mr. Noah?”
Catherine considered. She had, indeed, given Captain Phillips her precious voucher for Nancy’s passage and watched him add the name “Nancy Mills” to the ship’s log. Though the girls had lived side-by-side on the third floor of the Montcrief town home for as long as Catherine could remember, they’d never become acquainted. Now, she’d all but ceased to think of Nancy as a maidservant.
“No,” she finally said. “That I took care of your passage shall be our secret. We shall begin our lives in the New World on an equal footing.”
“But, what if I choose to hire on as yer housekeeper, or maid of all work?”
“I expect that would suit. Noah shouldn’t object to my having a maid.” She remembered Pocahontas saying that in the New World, a woman worked from sunup to sunset. “I shall surely require help.”
“Then it be settled,” Nancy concluded. “I shall be in the employ of Mistress Noah.”
Catherine chuckled. “Mistress Colton.”
She recalled how fervently Noah had wished them to wed before the men left for the New World. Though she was just a child of twelve then, he’d held her in his arms and told her how much he cared for her and how happy they’d one day be. Those fond memories and others from their shared childhood had sustained her throughout the years of heartache and loneliness she’d endured in London. And they kept her going now.
After a record sixty-eight days at sea, the two ships at last sailed into Chesapeake Bay. The day was bright and sunny, the sky overhead a clear, cornflower blue. Throughout the long journey, they’d never once set eyes on the George, the third ship in the fleet. Nor was it known whether or not the flagship had even left England.
Following the first cry of “Land ahoy!” the excitement on board ship was palpable. Nearly every last passenger, except the prisoners chained down in the hold, scrambled to get up on the main deck. Jockeying with one another for the best position at the crowded railing, all eyes strained to catch a glimpse of the land they would all soon call home.
Despite the horrendous conditions they’d endured, the terrible food, and several frightening storms, they’d never once been thrown off course. Although a few passengers aboard the Inverness and quite possibly the second ship were still too ill to walk under their own power, they were all grateful to have made it to the New World alive.
Numerous soundings were taken as the two ships, only yards away from one another, drifted noiselessly into the bay; their progress slow as there was little to no wind that day. From the shore the tall ships must have looked like brightly painted ornaments silently perched on the shimmering flat surface of the sea.
That next morning, a strong wind pushed them toward the fort of Jamestown, the ship’s hull creaking and straining as they sliced through the blue-green water toward the James River, one of several waterways that jutted off the bay.
At last, thought Catherine, they had reached their destination.
Chapter 4
CATHERINE AND NANCY were amongst those passengers pushed up against the railing of the Inverness, their eyes stung from the wind as they gazed with excitement at each and every sight the ship sailed past.
Catherine had never beheld such tall trees as those lining both sides of the river, among them, oak, walnut, chestnut, pine, and elm. On the forest floor, crimson, gold, blue, and purple wildflowers contrasted sharply with the lush, green foliage. Catherine could hardly wait to explore the woods for flowers and wild herbs, which she meant to dig up and plant in her own garden, she told Nancy.
“You might become Jamestown’s first lady physick,” Nancy replied grinning, her gray eyes also taking in the wonders spread before them.
“Several times I assisted my mother with birthings in our village,” Catherine added.
Their talk of healing herbs and plants brought to mind her conversation with Princess Pocahontas that fateful night in England. Although their time together had been brief, Catherine still ached over the great loss they’d all suffered by the Indian girl’s death. Catherine had no idea what fatal illness had so quickly claimed Pocahontas’s life, but due to her chills and possible fever, she suspected pneumonia, or perhaps even smallpox. If Pocahontas had lived and they’d made the crossing together, she was certain they’d now be fast friends. Her thoughts of the Indian princess were so strong, she imagined she could feel her gentle, loving spirit watching over them when, at long last, the two ships rounded a curve in the river and the fort of Jamestown came into view.
Exultant cheers and applause arose from those pressed against the loops of prickly hemp lining the ship’s railing, although no one felt the rope’s sting as the pain was overshadowed by joy and relief. From the quarterdeck, someone managed to shush the excited passengers in order to offer up a prayer of thanksgiving for their safe voyage.
Although not all of the passengers would go ashore, Catherine and Nancy fell in with a group of men and a few women who excitedly scrambled into the longboats to be rowed across the stretch of water still separating them from land. Those in town who had spotted the ships came running from the fort’s palisaded walls to stand close to the water’s edge, waving and shouting to the newcomers. Children jumped up and down as barking dogs ran in circles at their feet.
Catherine’s excitement reached new heights as she breathlessly scanned the sea of faces on shore. Would her father, her brother, and Noah all be there to welcome her? Or would they still be at work in their fields, not even aware she had come all the way from England to join them?
When the shallop drew nearer the pier . . . for indeed Jamestown now had its own pier . . . the two men nearest the front of the longboat clambered onto the sturdy wooden planks to wrap lengths of rope around one of the tall poles jutting up from the muddy water. At last Catherine, with Nancy trailing a few steps behind her, began to shakily walk the length of the pier toward the sandy shore.
Suddenly spotting her brother standing just outside the timbered walls of the fort, Catherine let out a cry. “Adam!” She broke into a run, but in her haste to reach him, stumbled over a craggy rock. She scrambled to right herself, then, in her haste to reach her brother, dropped the bundle she carried and, finally finding her land legs, ran the rest of the way towards him. “Adam!”
“Cat? Is that you?” A tall, swarthy young man with the same rich, auburn-colored hair as Catherine’s caught her up in his arms and swung her around and around. Setting her down, he held her at arm’s length. “I can hardly believe m’eyes! My little sister, an’ all grown up, I see!”
A plain-looking young woman with mousy brown hair and a somewhat weary smile stepped forward, and Adam introduced her to Catherine. “This is m’wife, Abigail.”
“Your wife? Oh, Adam, you’ve married!”
“Just over a year now,” he replied with obvious pride.
The two women embraced, but already Catherine’s glittering green eyes were searching the crowd for the one familiar face she so longed to see.
“Where is Noa . . .?”
And then she saw him.
He was looking right at her. “Noah!” she called, it not registering in her mind to question why he was not racing toward her.
She hiked up her long skirt and hastened to close the few yards that separated them. “Noah! It’s me, Catherine!”
Nearing him, their gazes locked. He was as handsome as ever, but . . ..
“Hello, Catherine.” The handsome man made no move to embrace her. Just then, a pretty apple-cheeked girl with long blonde curls stepped closer to his side. Glaring at Catherine, she wrapped both arms possessively through one of his.
When Catherine’s gaze dropped to the girl’s belly, swollen huge with child, her heart plummeted to her feet.
Then everything went black.
“PUT HER IN FATHER’S old room.”
“Adam, fetch a trencher of water.”
“You may put your things over there, Miss Mills.”
“Nancy, my name be Nancy.”
“Very well. How long has it been since she’s eaten, Nancy?”
“There was victuals this mornin’, sir, but rations been scant of late. We’ve ’ad nothin’ t’eat since mornin’.”
“That was hours ago! She’s exhausted, poor thing.”
“The sea voyage was simply too arduous for her.”
“She feels feverish.”
And a bit later someone said, “I think she may be coming ’round.”
But she wasn’t coming around. How could she? Her soul felt numb, as if it had suffered a shock too horrible to bear. Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart. Her entire body trembled when she attempted to stand. How could she possibly go on living?
Sometime later, without speaking, Catherine let Adam’s wife Abigail slide an arm beneath her shoulders and prop her up against a pillow to spoon some broth into her mouth. Later, Nancy helped her out of bed to use the chamber pot, but once back in bed, her head sank into the feather pillow and her eyes squeezed shut.
The truth was too dreadful to bear. Noah had married! Why? How could he have married when he knew she was coming? They were to be wed. She was the one meant to carry his child, not some girl he barely knew and who could not possibly love him as she did. Why? Why?
