Dangerous deceptions, p.7
Dangerous Deceptions, page 7
But, she was also now a woman. And in order to get past her grief and disappointment over Noah’s betrayal, she had to throw herself headlong into something. She also needed to prove to herself . . . and, yes, to Adam and to Noah . . . that she could succeed on her own.
Suddenly unwelcome thoughts of Noah flooded her mind. She wondered how she’d feel the next time she came face-to-face with him. She gazed from one side of the dusty road to the other as if she feared merely thinking about him would conjure him up. She wondered where he and his wife lived. Did the house Noah had built for his new wife resemble these crudely constructed huts, with a rickety pigpen in back and a couple of ramshackle outbuildings, or was he able to provide something finer?
The plainness of everything here offended Catherine’s love of beauty. Not a single house or fence or outbuilding bore paint. No cheerful color anywhere broke up the ever-present and monotonous . . . brown. Everything looked crude, plain, and most of all, dirty.
A sigh escaped her. Pocahontas had said white men’s houses were dirty. “Not clean like forest.” Thinking about the forest caused Catherine to turn around and head back down the road. If she did convince Adam to let her and Nancy stay here in Jamestown, she’d ask him to cut a window in the common room on the forest side of the house so she and her pupils could see out. The sight of trees and greenery was comforting to her, and being able to see beyond the plain walls of the house whilst standing at the head of the room teaching would be a pleasant diversion. She’d also figure out how to hang wooden boxes beneath all the windows in the house and fill them with colorful wildflowers.
When she stepped back indoors, Adam was there.
“Where have you been?” he demanded as if she’d committed a serious infraction.
“I walked up the road and back.”
He said nothing further, but it was clear he was displeased over . . . something.
“Can I do anything to help, Abigail?” Catherine asked pleasantly.
“No, thank you, sweetie, all done. Lad, take off your cap before you come to the table. We’ve a nice ragout tonight, Adam.”
Nancy was busy placing pieces of warm griddle-bread alongside each trencher while Abigail poured ale into a wooden tankard for Adam. Everyone else’s mug, made from gourd shells, contained fresh, cool water. After a quick prayer of thanksgiving for their food, the only sounds heard ’round the table were wooden spoons scraping against wooden trenchers. Adam was noticeably silent.
Presently, Abigail addressed him. “The weather was pleasant today; I expect the men got a good deal of work done on the house.”
“House is coming along. Men have fallen behind transplanting the tobacco seedlings. Tobacco flies are swarmin’. Won’t be anything left to harvest if nothing’s tended.” He continued speaking, his tone sullen. “Soon as the house is finished, there’s the barn and new drying sheds to build. This year’s crop will be far bigger than last year and we barely had room then to hang the leaves. I need more sheds.”
Abigail began brightly, “Well, I don’t know why the four of us . . .” her gaze took in the two other women and the boy, “couldn’t come and sweep the seedlings for you.”
Adam slammed his tankard onto the table. “I will not have you in the field this year, Abigail, not in your condition. I need men. Able-bodied men.”
In the silence that followed, Catherine thought again how much Adam reminded her of her father, spouting off at anyone who happened to be nearby when something was bothering him. Thinking about her father brought tears to her eye. Despite his sometimes foul temper, she missed him terribly and wished with all her heart she could have seen him again at least once more before he died. She had often heard her father say that a woman’s duty was to stay calm, keep silent, and do everything in her power to keep her menfolk comfortable and happy.
She was rather surprised when Nancy bravely spoke up.
“There was a goodly number of bond servants on our ship, and counting the other bark, there must be twice that number altogether.”
Catherine addressed him in a cheerful tone. “Have all the new indentured contracts been purchased?”
Adam sulked. “I wouldn’t know.”
“Perhaps you could inquire,” Abigail suggested. “We should have a good bit left from the sale of our tobacco leaves last fall. I see no reason why . . .”
“I haven’t a farthing to my name!” Adam spat out.
Catherine smiled to herself, then said quietly, “Perhaps I can help.”
Chapter 6
LATER THAT EVENING, after Catherine and Nancy had retired to their room for the night, Catherine was sliding the window covering back to let in fresh air when a rap sounded at the door.
“Come in,” she called, expecting it to be Abigail inquiring if they needed a fresh pine-knot candle or a clean chamber pot. She was surprised instead to hear her brother’s voice.
“I’d rather you came out here.”
She quickly threw on her wrapper and entered the common room where he stood sullenly staring into the low-burning fire. “What is it, Adam?”
“Last evening you mentioned ‘purchasing’ the house from me. I . . . ah . . . wondered what exactly you meant.”
“Well, originally I thought to pay you from what I made teaching. I also have some English banknotes that might be worth something.”
He glanced up. “Left to you by your late husband, I presume?”
“No. I discovered the notes amongst Mother’s things after she died, so they are as much yours as mine.”
“I’ll have a look at them.”
Catherine hurried to retrieve the paper money. Handing the notes to her brother, she watched as he turned them over and over, studying the faded print.
“Appear genuine to me. There’s over twenty-five pounds here.”
“Fifteen pounds would buy you three indentured contracts, correct?”
“Fifteen pounds is more than my share.”
“Indeed, but I want more than just the house. I want the furnishings . . . chairs, beds, tools. And two more plank tables . . .” she glanced over one shoulder toward where the family took their meals, “. . . with benches. And I want sufficient provisions to see Nancy and myself through two winters. I also want an indoor oven and a window cut in that wall so I can see through to the forest.”
His gaze followed hers when she pointed to the opposite wall of the house. “I considered putting a window there,” he mused, “but decided against it since the draft in winter is apt to put out the fire.”
“Not if the window contains glass.”
“Glass.” His lips twitched, the first hint of a smile Catherine had seen on his face in two days. “There’s not a pane of glass to be found in Jamestown, Cat, but I could manage some nice oiled cloth. You can roll it up during the day, and at night, it helps ward off the chill. I’d also fashion a sturdier bolt for the door and windows.”
“Thank you.”
“You strike a hard bargain, sis. I suppose you also want Lad. Despite what I can provide for you, ye’ll still need someone to do the heavy work; chop wood, fetch water, the like. I’d feel a good deal better about leaving you and Nancy here if there were a male on the premises. Lad will suit.”
Pleased with the way the negotiations were going, Catherine grinned up at him. “Does the boy have a real name, Adam?”
“Joseph. John. He answers well to Lad or Boy.”
“Hmm. So . . . it’s settled?”
“This means a great deal to me, Cat.” Folding three of the paper notes up, he stuffed them into his pocket and handed her the remaining two.
“I’m glad I was here to help, Adam.”
Once back in her room, Catherine blew out the pine-knot candle and climbed into bed. But she was far too excited to sleep. Instead, she lay awake making mental notes for Jamestown’s first school for boys and girls.
ON SUNDAY MORNING OF Catherine’s first week in Virginia, a bright sun peeked through the puffy white clouds overhead; a warm breeze drifted inland off the water.
Having arisen before dawn, the Parke household ate a hastily prepared cold meal, then disappeared to their respective bedchambers to don clean, fresh-smelling garb. Lad, after several prompts from Abigail, managed to water down his unruly hair. When the church bells began to peal, calling the colonists to worship, they all set out to walk to the Anglican Church located inside the walls of Jamestown’s fort.
Though Catherine’s gown was a hand-me-down from Lucinda, it was one of her finest, and Catherine especially liked the soft blue linen with its stylish slashed sleeves. The gown showed off her figure to advantage, and she thought the pastel blue looked especially lovely with her red-gold hair. She’d brushed it to a sheen and it now hung in soft waves down her back.
“What a beautiful gown,” Abigail remarked. “You’ll be the finest dressed lady at services.”
Casting his sister an appraising look, Adam nodded appreciatively. “Ye’ll no doubt turn heads this morning, sis.”
Catherine hadn’t been entirely certain she wanted to attend services today, fearing a face-to-face meeting with Noah and his wife. At breakfast, she’d feebly complained of a headache. But Adam had declared that attendance at Sabbath services was mandatory for everyone in the colony.
“There are stiff consequences for anyone who refuses to obey the governor’s mandate.”
“But what if one is seriously ill?” she’d asked stubbornly.
“A life-threatening illness would of course excuse one. But, as ye well know, a megrim is hardly life threatening. You’re lucky you were not here under Governor Dale’s rule when we were obliged to attend services twice a day! Now, I expect ye both to be ready in a quarter hour,” he added firmly.
As they drew near the walls of the old fort, Catherine worked to tamp down the apprehension that had beset her the minute she awoke this morning. She knew she would have to face Noah sooner or later, but she much preferred it be later, after she’d successfully set up her school and felt more confident of her position here in Jamestown. Now was still too soon, the wound to her heart still too fresh.
She glanced up shyly as other settlers joined their small party. Still, she saw no sign of Noah and his very pregnant wife.
As the church edifice came into view, Abigail motioned for Nancy to follow her. Both were carrying cloth-covered bowls of food they’d prepared the day before. Following services a colony-wide picnic would be held on the church green, mainly to benefit those new settlers who still lived aboard the ships anchored on the river. Catherine noted the long trestle tables loaded with bowls and wooden platters. Her stomach roiled not with hunger, but with anxiety over what lay ahead that afternoon. If not at services, she was certain to see Noah and his wife at the picnic.
As Abigail and Nancy hurried to deposit their offerings, the sight of Jamestown’s impressive new church captured Catherine’s attention. Though also built in the customary wattle-and-daub style, these timbers rested on a sturdy foundation of cobblestones, the first she’d seen since leaving London.
“Our original church burned to the ground a few years back,” Adam remarked as they all filed into the surprisingly spacious interior.
The elegance inside also surprised Catherine. With its polished pews and chancel of sweet-smelling cedar, it was the finest-looking structure she’d yet seen in the New World.
Before beginning to preach, Reverend Buck welcomed all the new settlers who’d joined the colony that week and issued a plea for those colonists who could to take in families who’d been living aboard the Inverness, as that ship was scheduled to sail for England on the morrow. Across the aisle from the ladies, on the gentlemen’s side of the building, Adam, along with a score of other men, raised an arm to volunteer space.
Catherine glanced at Abigail to ascertain how she felt about taking on the burden of additional people in their tiny house, but a slight firming of the older woman’s lips was all she detected. Catherine wondered if she or Nancy might already be acquainted with the family who’d come to live with them?
When the service got underway, she stood along with the congregation and joined in the singing and prayers. But she found it difficult to keep her mind on the reverend’s sermon so anxious was she to turn around and crane her neck to scan the congregation for Noah’s handsome face. Surely, she’d see him at the picnic. She also fervently wished to meet Deputy-Governor Yeardley for Adam had said she’d need his approval before she could move ahead with her school.
When the interminable service finally drew to a close, Catherine and Nancy joined those crowded around the trestle tables laden with delicious-smelling victuals. Those who’d lived the past week on the ships especially enjoyed the offerings: sliced pork and venison, roasted turkey, fried fish, pease porridge, beans and greens, and a goodly number of corn dishes. Catherine saw flatbread, bowls of spoon bread, and another sort of bread Abigail called “rye an’ injun,” as it was made from half rye and half cornmeal. For dessert, there were clotted-cream custards dotted with currants, and an assortment of berry pies and quince tarts.
As there were no benches or chairs, people stood in groups to eat, or sat in circles on the ground beneath the elm and oak trees. Not spotting Noah and his wife, Catherine’s spirits sank lower and lower as the afternoon wore on. Except for the brief glimpse she’d had of him the day she arrived in Jamestown, she essentially hadn’t seen Noah since she was a child. Although she knew he now belonged to another, she couldn’t stop herself from longing to gaze upon his handsome features.
Her attention strayed to her surroundings. A number of boys, Lad amongst them, and even some of the men had begun to play a spirited game of bowling on the green. Other men tossed quoits. It crossed her mind that there were very few children in the colony. Only a handful were running and playing, which meant the number of pupils in her school would be quite small. But that rather put her mind at ease, because the truth was that her experience as a teacher was . . . nil.
Adam introduced her to a number of colonists, who, despite the fact that he referred to her simply as “Catherine,” insisted on addressing her as Mistress Fielding. Apparently the false name she’d given the night she boarded ship was now set in stone, and everyone, including her brother, believed her to have once been a married woman.
Mulling the oddity over, she decided that to try and put the matter to rights now would do more harm than good. After all, how many of these God-fearing folk would trust a woman who told lies with educating their children? Moreover, telling falsehoods most assuredly went against the strict moral code that governed the colony, and she feared it might give the governor sufficient reason to withhold his approval for her school. At the very least, he would demand to know why she fabricated the falsehood, and might even send her back to England thinking she had committed a serious infraction and was attempting to hide in the New World as a means of escaping punishment.
Her idle thoughts drifted to studying the few women in the colony. Most, like Abigail, wore simple homespun skirts of faded blue or red stuff with the sleeves tied in the plain white bodice. Most wore close-fitting white caps. Only a few wore chip bonnets, though tied with frayed ribbons. Men dressed in a fashion similar to Adam; brown or gray gathered breeches with matching doublets or sleeveless jerkins over white linen shirts.
By contrast, the important town leaders were all finely turned out in red or green satin puffed breeches. Their doublets sported gold buttons, and most wore wide-brimmed plumed hats. A few wore shoulder-length periwigs. In their colorful finery, Catherine thought they looked like a handful of peacocks amongst a flock of brown geese.
When she saw two of the peacocks approach Adam and begin to speak with him, she thought he might be about to motion for her to join them, for surely one of the peacocks must be Deputy-Governor Yeardley. Watching the men, it occurred to her that the gentlemen seemed especially overwrought about something, making wide, sweeping gestures with their arms. At one point Adam did cast a gaze over one shoulder and looked directly at Catherine. She held her breath. He had promised to introduce her to Deputy-Governor Yeardley that afternoon.
Instead, her brother headed straight back to the family and announced it was time to leave. He told Abigail he was going aboard the Inverness to help retrieve the belongings of the family who’d be coming to live with them. He told her to put Lad’s things in the shed.
Nancy and Abigail headed toward the trestle table to collect their empty bowls, and Adam gave a shout for Lad, who was still playing with the other boys not far off. To Catherine, he said, “I’ll need a private word with you this evening, Cat.”
His grave tone alarmed her. What could be the trouble? And why had Noah and his wife not been at Sabbath services since Adam had said church attendance was mandatory for the entire colony? And why had Adam gone back on his promise to introduce her to Deputy-Governor Yeardley?
THAT EVENING, SHE HAD to wait until everyone, including the new family, who, it turned out, neither she nor Nancy knew, had settled down in the loft for the night. As everyone had eaten their fill that afternoon, the womenfolk were spared the arduous task of preparing yet another meal that day.
When the house was finally quiet, Adam rapped softly at Catherine’s door and asked her to join him in the common room.
“I was approached by two of Yeardley’s councilmen this afternoon.”
“I noticed. I also noticed you did not introduce me to Deputy-Governor Yeardley.”
“The matter of your school will have to wait. A problem has arisen that is far more important. I need you to listen carefully, Catherine.”
“Very well, what is it?”
