~.~
Chapter Three
~.~
Bella had experienced difficulties and deprivations in her time on land, but nothing could have prepared her for the misery of life on a ship for months.
She was given the most luxurious accommodations the ship offered its passengers, a tiny stateroom in the stern of the ship. It had a narrow bed beneath a single window, which did not relieve the sense of claustrophobia created by the low ceiling. One of her Turkish carpets had been placed on the floor, and she had a small clothes press that competed for space with the trunk at the foot of her bed. A little table beside the bed doubled as a nightstand and wash stand, with a cabinet below to hide her chamberpot. If she reached out, she could almost touch the walls on both sides of the cabin.
A young cabin boy had been assigned to her as a servant. His name was Charles, and he was a charming child, the best part of her journey, as far as Bella was concerned. She spent hours chatting with him. He avoided trouble for his absence in other duties by saying the lady renting the cabin was demanding of his time in cleaning and fetching things for her. The captain just sighed, because he had gotten a letter from the Duke of Cullen, who was paying for the lady's passage, saying his cousin was to have her every whim catered to and be served like royalty.
Bella remained on deck as much as possible, though the solicitious sailors always tried to urge her to go back to her cabin, saying the deck with its salt spray and harsh sunlight was no place for a lady. The sunlight might tan her fair skin, and the salt spray could ruin the fine gowns she wore. Bella didn't care about the gowns; Ward had sent dozens. Her skin did not bronze the way a human's did as a reaction to sun damage, though she obeyed convention and wore a large hat to shield herself.
Even on deck, it was impossible to escape the stench of the ship. Sixty people were on board, many of whom were miserably seasick. These passengers were crammed into the hold, with no privacy except for for the few blankets strung up as curtains between the bedding areas. It was dark, damp, and fetid below, but the passengers were afraid of the unhealthy miasmas of the salt air. Whenever she passed by the open hatch, Bella heard coughing and wheezing, and the sounds of retching.
Water for washing was scarce, even if the passengers had wanted to risk opening the pores of the body to the foul miasmas. And there was no question of laundering clothes. The passengers used chamber pots and buckets for answering nature's call, which they carried up to dump overboard the on infrequent occasions the crew would let them up onto the deck. The crew were unfailingly polite to Bella, but for the most part, they found the passengers to be a nuisance and hated having them underfoot as they did their work.
Their food did not help matters, in Bella's opinion. Salt pork, dried peas, cheese, and hard biscuit comprised the most of their diet. Bella was offered the finer foods given to the officers: spiced fish, eggs and chicken from the caged fowl kept on board, goat's milk and meat, and wine. There were a occasionally few preserved fruits like prunes. Little Charles ate the meat, and traded her his own meals of oatmeal or groats from the common mess below.
Their voyage met with calm seas. Too calm on some occasions, when the wind died down completely and the ship drifted on the currents. At those times, Bella nearly screamed with frustration and impatience, but all she could do was pace her stuffy little cabin or read.
Bless Ward for sending with her boxes of books, some which she'd had little Charles bring up from the hold, huffing and struggling beneath their weight. She read to him sometimes. His favorite was the Morte d'Arthur, the tales of King Arthur and his knights, of which Ward had sent all twenty-one volumes. Like his father, Ward never did anything by halves. The books alone represented a store of fantastic wealth, and just hearing of Bella's books was enough to make the other passengers stare at her in awe.
She did make a few attempts at socializing, for these people were going to be her neighbors, but she found herself in the awkward position of belonging to neither of the groups aboard. The religious separatists from England considered her one of the "Strangers," people whom the colony had to accept because of economic realities, but not those the founders necessarily wanted there. Nor was she one of the farmers, loggers, carpenters, or fishermen who had come for the opportunities to be found in the New World.
Speculation was rife as to why she had come. She was a widow from a noble family, young, beautiful, rich, and independent, with a land grant of her own. But why would such a woman be headed to the colonies alone? Could she be fleeing a scandal in England? Some watched her waistline to see if a bastard child was on the way. But none was bold enough to ask her business in the colonies, and Bella did not offer an explanation.
Since Edward was likely one of the "Saints," she politely asked after books and tracts printed by their group while they were in Leyden, and was offered a series of debates on religious matters which she studied while she was in her cabin. The topics were esoteric to her, on obscure points of theology, but she began to gather the gist of their beliefs. The sect felt that too many Catholic elements lingered in the Church of England, and had wished to purify it of those elements.
They believed the only elements of the church should be those mentioned in the Bible. Recognizing only two sacraments, communion and baptism, they also felt a person's fate was pre-destined. God had already selected who was saved and damned from birth, and nothing a person could do would change that. Bella wondered what group they would reckon her in and decided it probably wasn't with the saved.
The Sabbath was the only holiday they recognized and they were strict about no work being done on that day, which was devoted to church services. Their Bible was the Geneva version, which Bella did not own; hers was in Latin and illuminated with painted illustrations, a gift from Jasper. She'd have to get a new one, because they'd likely consider hers "popish." A myriad of religious texts were suggested in their writings, none of which were in Bella's library. She felt very ill-prepared for this. One of the books she'd been loaned was The Unlawfulness of Reading in Prayer and wondered if she should hide her Book of Common Prayer. But that had been a gift from Queen Elizabeth, and she couldn't bear to part with it.
Her deep-set fear of human religion drove her to conform, at least outwardly. She remembered, decades ago, Edward warning her she could be burned if she did not obey the laws of the Church. And then, during those horrible days of Mary's reign when they had witnessed the burning of Protestants ... the horrific death of Bishop Hooper ... Bella's friend Anne Askew. And her own terror when she had been accused of witchcraft, for which Rose had sacrificed herself in order to save Bella's life. Beautiful Rosalie who felt she could only redeem herself in death ...
Wealth and status was protection, but Bella knew it was not an impermeable shield. She would have to be careful, as careful as she was in those long ago days when Mary had been Queen.
When James came to the throne, he agreed to a meeting with the leaders of the Brownist faction. But he declined to accept the reforms of the Church the Brownists had asked for, and some of their number were arrested. They decided emigration was in their best interest, and chose Holland as their destination. It was more accepting of Protestant groups.
But they were also unhappy in Holland. They felt the Dutch were immoral, and were horrified when their children began to assimilate, picking up the local language and customs. They decided to emigrate to the colonies, where they could set up a settlement in which theirs would be the only religion and culture.
However, creating a viable colony required they accept outsiders, whether they liked it or not. They made church attendance mandatory for the colonists, but church membership was only something extended to believers who had made a profession of faith. Bella studied this aspect carefully, so she would know what she was required to say and adhere to.
In his old life, Edward had been a Catholic, though he leaned toward some Protestant beliefs. When Mary came to the throne, both he and Bella had conformed to the Queen's conservative faith. After she died, Queen Elizabeth softened the hard-line stance. She never wanted to make "windows into people's souls," as long as they outwardly conformed by attending church services and were loyal to the Queen herself. Edward had always harbored a hope that Bella would come to accept his beliefs as her own, but hadn't pressured her. When he had died, he had asked for the old rites, just as they had been performed in the days of his youth, dying in the faith of his fathers.
And now he was a Protestant, a Brownist, raised in it since childhood. Would he be as accepting of her in this lifetime, or would he have been taught more stringent beliefs?
Whatever the case, she would love him just the same.
~.~
In late September, the sailor stationed in the crow's nest shouted that he'd spotted land and Bella wept from sheer relief at having finally arrived. But she was due for more waiting once the ship pulled into the harbor while the tender went back and forth with messages and documents before the ship was allowed to dock.
She was surprised to see a large number of people at the dock, waiting for the ship's arrival, but she supposed a docking ship would be quite an event for these isolated people, especially if the ship was carrying beloved family members come to join them, and much-needed supplies. In the hold of the ship, Ward had included provisions, goods for trade, blankets... anything he could think of that his mother and other colonists might need. Tapestries and teapots aside, he knew practical items would be of more value in the colonies.
There was a small warehouse at the docks where goods were stored while they waited for ships to transport them back to England to repay the colony's debt to their sponsoring company. Bella had already directed that her trunks and crates be delivered to it where they could be guarded by the men who already watched the warehouse.
The captain himself led her down the gangplank. Charles followed, jabbering excitedly about all the things she might see. He was especially fascinated by the "wild Indians" of the land, and Bella had already promised to write to him if she saw one.
"Charles!" the captain said sharply.
"Hush," Bella said to him and the captain blinked in surprise, but obeyed.
Charles, oblivious, continued his steady stream of chatter, gripping her hand until they reached land.
"It may be wobbly to you," he warned, gripping her by the arm, and she was glad for his support, because it did seem like the soil rocked beneath her feet after being used to the ship for so long.
"My lady?" A gentleman swept off his hat and bowed low.
"Mistress Isabella Cullen, this is Governor Bradford," the captain announced. He handed over his own letter of introduction for her, and Bradford slipped it into his doublet. Likely, it warned him what Ward had said about how she was to be treated. Bella restrained herself from smiling and shaking her head with effort.
"Mistress, you must be weary after your long journey. Please allow us to escort you to my home, where you can rest and take refreshment."
Bella, who had hoped to slip away and be able to explore on her own, gave him a smile. She leaned down to kiss Charles on the cheek. "Be good and continue to practice your writing on the slate I gave you," she said. "And then you can write me letters!"
"Do you promise you'll write back?"
"I do." She smiled at him and he darted up the gangplank, waving to her when he reached the top. She waved, too, and turned to see the governor watching her, a speculative gleam in his eye.
"A goodly child," she said, and allowed him to escort her into the village.
A wide dirt street at the top of a hill was lined on both sides by a row of wood unpainted houses with thatched roofs. Around the outskirts of the town was a tall wood fence made of tree trunks with sharpened tops. Fences enclosed small pastures where a few goats grazed in the tall grass and wildflowers. Chickens pecked at the soil and scattered in alarm as they approached, and she saw a few pigs casually rooting through a garbage heap beside one of the houses. The governor glanced at her and she saw he was a little anxious at her reaction, but it wasn't anything worse than she had seen in the poorer neighborhoods of England. A bit more primitive in its construction, true, but similar in style to an English village. She looked back over her shoulder and saw the calming blue of the ocean only a short walk away. It made her smile.
The governor's house was a little larger than most, wide set, with a thatched roof, pitched low. A stone chimney was set at its side. Vegetable gardens surrounded it, protected from roaming animals by a wood fence around the property. He opened the gate and led her inside, nudging aside a curious goose with the toe of his boot.
It was cooler inside the house. The ceilings were low, its wood beams unpainted and darkened by smoke. The walls were plastered white, and were bare of any ornamentation. A bright painted floorcloth lay beneath the wood plank dining table, flanked on both sides by a bench. The furnishings were sparse and plainly made, locally crafted instead of imported from England, except for a few pieces, which Bella guessed were family heirlooms. Pewter plates stood on the mantle over the fireplace.
A servant girl hurried over after hanging up the ladle she'd been using to stir the pot over the fire. She wiped her hands on her apron as she approached and offered to take Bella's hat.
"My thanks to you." Bella pulled the pin securing it to her bun of hair and stuck it back into the hat before she handed it to her. The girl curtsied and hung it on a peg by the door. Under her hat, Bella wore her linen cap, the expected headgear of a woman indoors. Except with her close family in her own home, a woman could never go around bare-headed.
"You have a lovely home, Governor Bradford," Bella said, and he smiled, but she didn't think it was because of the compliment.
"This way, please, Mistress." Bradford led her through a plank door into a small office, dominated by a large wood table. Its surface was occupied by a pile of papers and a Bible placed neatly in the corner.
He gestured to a wood chair with a woven rush seat and Bella sat down in it gingerly. She didn't fully trust the rushes to hold her weight and kept picturing herself collapsing through the frame, legs flailing. It creaked when she moved, so she tried to remain absolutely still.
"I am told you are a cousin of the Duke of Cullen."
"I am." Bella pulled her letters of introduction and credit from her reticule and offered them to him, but he politely waved them away, saying it wasn't necessary. Bella supposed not. He had the letter from the captain, after all, and ample evidence she was a lady of means, since part of his warehouse was now occupied with her belongings. "I must admit to being curious as to why you have chosen to come to our colony."
"I intend to make my life here."
He templed his fingers beneath his chin as the servant girl came through the door bearing a tray that held two goblets. One was chased silver and the other was pewter. She carefully placed the silver one on the desk in front of Bella and gave the other to Bradford. Bella thanked her with a smile. She took of it and sighed in pleasure at the taste of the fresh, crisp ale.
"Good, is it not? My wife makes it." He nodded at the girl Bella had thought was a servant and she bobbed a quick curtsey before hurrying to the door.
Bella was embarrassed at her mistake and hoped she hadn't done anything rude. She went over their interaction in her head as she asked, "Have you been married long?"
"Only since August. I was widowed -" He stopped for a moment and Bella saw his hand tighten on the stem of his goblet. "My first wife came over with me on the Mayflower three years ago. The ship was still anchored in the bay. While I was out scouting with the other men for a suitable location to build our village, she fell overboard. She drowned before she could be rescued, having never set foot in our new homeland."
"I'm so sorry." Bella was horrified. "That is so tragic... My condolences, sir."
He nodded, and she could see he was being careful to keep his face emotionless. He had loved her, and Bella's heart ached with pity for him. "My thanks to you."
She took another sip of ale. "This seems a goodly site for a town."
He nodded. "The savages once had a village here, but by God's grace, a plague swept through before we came and killed them, leaving this land open for our occupation. The Lord works in mysterious ways."
"I suppose He does." Bella stared at her goblet, and wondered what had happened to them. Had the sickness been brought by the first European explorers of this land, somehow transporting the miasmas with them?
"You are a widow yourself, are you not?"
It must have been in the information he'd been given before she even disembarked. She wasn't dressed in mourning, wearing a green satin gown. But according to the story Ward had told the captain, she had been a widow for more than five years, long beyond the time a widow was expected to wear black. Most of the gowns he had sent her were in bright, fashionable colors. "I am."
"Do you intend to remarry? There are many men here in want of a wife."
Bella looked down into the depths of her cup. "If I should find the right man."
"I would advise you to choose quickly," Bradford said. He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the desk. "Not all of the men here are gentlemen, Mistress Cullen. I should hate it if someone ... took advantage of your circumstances to force your hand."
She took a sip of the ale to hide the smile she couldn't quite control. She would like to see any man try it. But for an ordinary woman, his concern would be valid. There had been many instances of women raped to force them into having to marry the man who attacked them. The same was said to have happened to Mary Queen of Scots, though there were some who claimed she had a prior agreement with the lord who had abducted her.
"Your security is, of course, my responsibility until such time as you take a husband. My wife and I would be pleased if you would reside with us until such time -"
Bella sat back in her chair and thanked the gods for Ward's insistence she go to the New World as a woman of wealth and status. She had choices, which most women did not. And now she would start exercising them.
It was nearly a week before she was able to slip away on her own. Bella laughed as she threaded her way through the trees. It was almost as bad as being a Duchess again! She had not bought any indentured servants of her own yet, but her solicitous neighbors had sent their own to help her set up her house, cook for her, clean for her, start her vegetable garden ... Bella felt overwhelmed by kindness and didn't know how to tell them she just wished to be left alone so she could explore. But they wouldn't understand that, of course.
Today was the first day no one had knocked at the door and she was relieved. She slipped into one of her simple "work dresses," though Ward's version of a work dress was finer than most of the best clothing of the women here. It was soft brown linen, artfully pleated, with slashes in the sleeves to allow the bright white chemise below, made loose enough that she could slip it on herself, and the sleeves attached easily with tied ribbons. Bella put on a bonnet to cover her cap and tied the bow beneath the bun of hair at the nape of her neck. She didn't intend to be seen on her explorations, but anything was possible.
Bella locked the door and tied the key inside her pocket, looking around the little town to see if anyone would spot her, but everyone was occupied in the fields or working inside their houses. The little street was deserted. With a grin, she darted away through the grass. She vaulted the fence easily and tore off through the woods, running like a deer, her heart pounding with the joy of freedom. The leaves were cool beneath her feet and she realized with a laugh she'd forgotten shoes, but she didn't care. It was a delight just to be able to stretch her muscles again. Cramped on the ship for so long, she had felt as restless as a songbird in a cage, but now ... She jumped and caught a branch, just for the pleasure of doing it and swung there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest.
She let go of the branch and dropped silently to the forest floor. It was so beautiful and peaceful here. She wandered through the woods, and was surprised at how many forest creatures she encountered. Deer, wolves, rabbits, turkeys, and birds for which she did not have a name, colorful green heads with speckled white and brown bodies. The woods of England had been mostly depleted of wildlife, but these forests were still alive. She even encountered a little black bear and they stopped to chat for a bit. Bella loved animals, and hadn't gotten to visit with many wild creatures while she lived with humans. And then, during her long, lonely wanderings, she hadn't been interested in conversation. But now she was so much closer to Edward, she felt her heart and spirit coming back to life again.
As she strolled, she encountered a small path through the treeline that looked like a human had walked through, tromping heavily through the leaves as they did.
There! She heard a voice and went still, not even breathing as she strained toward the sound.
It sounded like...
Tears filled her eyes. She was so afraid to hope ...
She heard it again and her eyes closed, the tears falling down onto her cheeks. She opened them again, and the world was a fresh new place, the colors bright and vivid again, all of the scents vibrant in her nose.
Alive again, alive ...
She inched closer to the sound. Not even a twig broke beneath her steps to signal her approach as she crept toward it, slipping from tree to tree.
Closer...
Closer...
He was singing softly beneath his breath as he cut away the bark from around a tree. Sweat darkened his shirt between his broad shoulders, and he took a moment to remove his hat to wipe his forehead with the cloth draped around his neck. He turned and she had to grip the bark of the tree. The wood creaked beneath her fingers from the tightness of her grip.
It was him.
Her love.
Her soul.
Her Edward.
He was younger than he had been the first time she saw him in his last lifetime, perhaps twenty or so, more heavily muscled from a lifetime of work. His red-brown hair gleamed in the sunlight that filtered through the canopy, and even from this distance, she could see the brilliant green of his eyes, as verdant as the leaves above. She ducked back behind the tree so he wouldn't spot her and leaned her forehead against the bark for a moment.
She longed to tear through the woods toward him, grab him in her arms and kiss him wildly, but she couldn't do that. She couldn't.
Her fingers had left impressions in the tree trunk. She slipped over to another, where she could see him better. It was him.
Gods be praised, it was him.
He didn't know her. She had to keep repeating that in her mind.
He didn't know her.
She couldn't run up to him and grab him, no matter how much she wished to. She'd scare him to death.
She would have to introduce herself and slowly wake his memories. He would remember, in the fullness of time. His soul would recognize hers instantly, but his mind would only accept it slowly, bits and pieces emerging like a half-remembered dream. He would never remember everything, of course. The human mind was limited that way. But he would remember what was important. He would remember that he loved her.
"Soon," she whispered, though she knew he couldn't hear her. "Soon, my love."
~.~
Edward paused in removing the log's bark and went down to the creek to get a drink. He had stored a jug of beer in the water and it was delightfully cool as he gulped straight from the container. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to get used to the sweltering heat of their new home.
Their ship, the Anne, had arrived at the new colony in July, and he and his father had begun building their cabin as soon as they disembarked. They needed to have it completed before the winter came, because this was a land of extremes. The blistering hot summer would give way to a brutally cold winter, heavy with snow and ice. The first winter had killed many of the new settlers. Cold, starvation, illness ... They had to be prepared for the challenges of this new world.
It was a lush and fertile land. The streams and rivers were choked with fish and there were millions of trees just begging to be cut down to be turned into ships spars and building timber. The flocks of birds were so massive that they blocked out the sun when they flew overhead. But all of this bounty had to be gathered, cleaned, and processed in order to be used. The work was never-ending.
Edward splashed the cool water on his face and neck and went back to his work. The bark had to be removed from the felled trees as quickly as possible, or the drying sap would glue it in place. The wide head of his axe was wedged under a sheet of bark and he struck it with his mallet to push it on down the length of the tree.
He could hear the sounds of his father, Carlisle, chopping down another tree, the sound echoing through the forest. On the other side of the clearing, Edward could see the half-erected walls of their future home. His stepmother and his sister, Alice, were washing clothes, boiling their linens in a pot over the fire, which they stirred with long wooden paddles. His little brother, Emmett, played in the dust by the doorway. He was too small to be able to do much productive work beyond gathering woodchips and twigs for kindling.
Alice's betrothed, Jasper, sat at a shaving horse, making shingles by running a draw knife over thin planks of wood. He and Alice were due to be married next year and he intended to live with their family after the wedding. Edward's father was not fond of Jasper, who was one of the "Strangers" who had come for the economic opportunities in the New World, rather than for religious reasons. Jasper set traps for the animals and sold furs, which Edward's father thought of as a lazy way to make a living, since he only had to visit his traps a couple of times per day and harvest the skins, then tack them out flat in the sunlight to dry.
At least he wasn't one of those fools who spent all of his time searching for the gold they'd been told was as common as pebbles in a creek. The few Natives who were left had been enraged to find the gold-seekers had broken open the graves of their dead in search of treasure. When they'd found no gold, they had taken baskets of corn and other grave goods as curiosities. Spending all year digging holes, the gold-seekers had then been a burden on the colony over the winter.
Up until this point, all land and food had been held in common, with each contributing what he could and taking what he needed. But resentments had quickly grown. The ones who farmed fed the whole colony, including the lazy and those foolish gold-hunters. The governor, fed up with trying to assign job duties and field complaints, divided the land up amongst the colonists, each parcel according to the size of the family group. Young single men were assigned to live and work with each family. Even the livestock was divided up by casting lots. All of the property technically still belonged to the company that had sponsored the colony, but this feeling of ownership and accountability gave more incentive.
Jasper had seen Alice in the village and had fallen head-over-heels. He'd spoken to her father and had been told that he wouldn't even consider Jasper's suit unless the young man converted to their faith and "proved himself." Since that day, Jasper had not missed a single worship Meeting and he had worked for Carlisle like an indentured servant, asking for no pay other than the chance to show himself worthy of Alice's hand.
Edward was glad that Carlisle's preoccupation with Alice's marriage had kept his mind from finding a wife for his son. Edward wasn't sure he wanted to marry. This was a hard life for a woman. He had seen his own mother die of fever not long after they had landed here, and Carlisle had remarried about a week later. Esme's husband had died in that first, terrible winter the colonists had faced, and she needed a husband, just like Carlisle needed a wife to tend little Emmett.
Alice disliked Esme, whom she saw as trying to usurp her mother's rightful place, but Edward liked her. Esme was kind-hearted and tried very hard to please everyone, despite being rebuffed by her stepdaughter and broken-hearted husband.
"Edward."
He heard the soft voice and turned to see a woman standing behind him. She was tiny, the top of her head barely reaching the center of his chest. Dark hair peeked from under the edge of her white linen cap and the huge eyes in her heart-shaped face were equally dark, but as soft and gentle as a doe's.
Edward bowed and quickly retrieved his doublet from the stump where he'd left it. He had taken it off to work in his shirt and he blushed slightly to be seen in such a state of undress in the presence of a lady. And a lady she must be, for her light blue gown was made of soft, fine wool and her slender white hands bore no callouses.
She gazed at him expectantly and Edward's blush deepened a bit. "I beg pardon, Madame," he said. "You have me at a disadvantage."
Sadness settled over her and she dropped her eyes. "You don't know who I am."
The strangest thing was that he did, in some deep recess of his mind. He tried hard to place her, for surely if he had ever met such an enchanting creature, he would have remembered. Still, she seemed familiar in some way, like a forgotten word dancing on the tip of one's tongue. "Your pardon, my lady," he repeated.
"I am Bella," she said and gave a small curtsey when he bowed again, an automatic action which told him that his assumptions of her status had been correct. "I wished only to meet you."
"Me?" Edward blurted because he couldn't imagine why such a high-status lady would be interested in speaking in a man like him. A strange fragment of a memory, like a recollection of a long-ago dream flitted through his mind. He saw Bella, though she was dressed in a jewel-encrusted gown with a wide lace ruff framing her neck and shoulders. He blinked and the vision – if that's what it was – vanished.
She extended her hand and he took it and jumped when a strange tingle passed from her skin to his. He dropped her hand in alarm and backed away. "Who are you?"
"Yes, who are you?"
Edward turned and saw his father step from between the trees. His eyes were flat and unfriendly. "Who are you that you lay hands so familiarly upon my son's person?"
The woman curtsied. "I am Bella Cullen, goodman." The brooch pinned to the front of her gown caught the light and Edward saw that it had an ornate letter "C" picked out in emeralds.
Carlisle did not smile, though he gave a short bow in return. "I have not seen you before."
"I have only lately arrived."
"On the Katherine?" Carlisle's expression became even more cool. The settlers who had arrived on that ship about a week ago were not a welcome addition. They were - for the most part - rumored to be poorly equipped and a burden on Plimouth.
Some said the settlers from the Katherine were going to be sent to re-found the failed Weymouth colony, but no one was happy about it. That colony had been poorly managed and the starving people had stolen supplies from both Plimouth and the local Natives, and the conflict had escalated to violence. The colony had disbanded, with some of the colonists joining other settlements, and some returning home to England. Relations with the Natives had badly deteriorated because of the conflict.
"I wished only to make your acquaintance," Bella murmured. "I shall take my leave. Good day to you." She curtsied again and disappeared down the path to the village. Edward watched her go, a faint frown tugging at his lips.
"Mind your work, son," Carlisle said.
"Aye, Father." Edward picked up his mallet again, but for the rest of the afternoon, his mind was occupied by a pair of large, dark eyes.
At sunset, Edward and Carlisle returned to the half-finished cabin after a swift wash in the creek. Though it was not yet completed, the family already lived inside, sleeping on pallets on the dirt floor, shielded from the elements by a temporary roof of leafy branches. It had been a dry summer, which was good for the family's comfort, but not so good for the crops.
The stone fireplace had already been completed and it was there Esme had cooked their dinner of pease porridge and a hunk of roasted venison. Little Emmett had been employed to turn the spit while it cooked over the fire and his little cheeks were still rosy with heat. Edward scooped him up and hugged him and the boy squealed with laughter. Edward couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow when he looked down into Emmett's sparkling eyes, so much like their mother's that Carlisle could barely stand to look at the boy.
The table where the food was laid was made of rough planks, which Esme covered with an old, patched quilt. They had no chairs; they stood around the table silently while Carlisle prayed for the Lord's blessing on their meal and then began to eat. The only sounds were the scrapes of their spoons and knives on the plates and the crackle of the fire.
They all jumped when someone knocked on the wall next to the door. "Whomever could that be?" Carlisle mused aloud. He pushed aside the leather curtain hung over the opening and the colony's governor, William Bradford, stepped inside.
The governor greeted them all and declined Esme's offer of a meal. "I regret interrupting your dinner, but I needed to speak with you as soon as possible, Carlisle."
"You are always welcome in my home, whatever the hour," Carlisle said. "What service may I do for you?"
Bradford looked distinctly uncomfortable. "There is a Stranger among us of some import," he said. "I met with her again this afternoon."
"A new colonist?"
"Aye, and a wealthy one at that," Bradford said, bluntly. "Her name is Isabella Cullen. She comes with much in the way of funds and supplies."
"She has no husband?" Carlisle sounded a bit surprised at this. The laws in Plimouth were more liberal than those in England. A woman here could own property in her own name, and even sit on a jury, but marriageable females here were few in number and quickly wed, often before they even disembarked from the ship.
"That is why I have come," Bradford said. "She will give the supplies to be shared by the colony and has said that she will even purchase more for us if need be, but she asks something in return."
"Aye?"
"She wishes to marry your son."
Edward's knees went slack and he found himself sitting on the floor, staring up at the governor and his father.
"Edward?" Carlisle sounded bewildered. "Why? He has naught to offer. We are humble people with little wealth."
The governor shook his head. "She gave no reason to me." He glanced down at Edward. "She a Duke's relation, and she came with a large grant of land from the King. I cannot command you, of course, but I'd ask you to at least consider her offer, Edward, for the colony and for your own family's sake."
"What of her faith?" Carlisle asked. "Is she a member of the church?"
"She will make her profession on Sunday." In other colonies, the applicant for church membership had to undergo an intense questioning to ensure their beliefs were in line with the church's doctrine, but Plimouth was less stringent in its standards.
"If you are willing, we will perform the marriage immediately afterward," the governor continued.
Edward heard a sharp intake of breath from Alice, but she knew better than to speak without being spoken to.
Edward glanced around the house and the governor seemed to understand what he was thinking. "She has a house of her own," he said. "She bought the Douglas family's home."
The Douglases had returned to England, unable to bear the hardship of life in the colonies. Their home was in the town itself, a little gray clapboard-covered house with a thatched roof. It had been used by several families since the Douglases left, and if Bella had purchased it outright from the company ...
"Think on it," the governor urged, but Edward knew there wasn't much thinking to be done. The supplies were sorely needed by the colony and might save lives over the coming winter, and undoubtedly, his own family would benefit from Bella's wealth.
"I'll marry her," he said.
~.~
Notes:
- I haven't been able to find the exact number of passengers on the Katherine. Most histories of the era simply note that 120 passengers were brought by the Katherine and the ship that accompanied it, The Prophet Daniel. So I have split the numbers evenly between them. The man who financed the colonists, Sir Ferdinando Gorges, had been imprisoned during Essex's uprising, when Essex tried to force Bess to give him an audience so he could explain himself. After James came to the throne, Sir Ferdinando was released and resumed his position as military governor of Plymouth. He secured a royal charter for the colony, though he struggled with the Puritans in Parliament. Worried about what might happen to his charter in his absence, he sent his son instead of going himself to the colony.
- The terms "Saints" and "Strangers" were not in use at the time, though the colonists themselves saw sharp division between the groups. The terms come from a 1945 book entitled Saints and Strangers by George Willison, who was the first to use those terms to distinguish the "Saints" as the religious separatists, and Strangers as the colonists who were there for economic opportunity. It's a simplistic way of viewing it, but there's no way to get into all of the various economic, social, and political differences in a simple fanfiction story.
- Floorcloths were painted canvas. The first written reference to one here in the United States is in 1722, but they were probably in use earlier, so I've decided to give one to the governor. The cloth was oiled to make it waterproof, and then painted with bright, sometimes quite elaborate designs. They looked a bit like modern linoleum. They could be quite expensive. Thomas Jefferson paid three dollars a yard for a painted floorcloth in Monticello, imported from England.
- The plague Bradford describes was smallpox, which killed millions of Native Americans across the continents of North and South America. How many, scholars still debate. It could be upwards of hundreds of millions. The first European settlers were surprised to find cleared lands and planted fields left behind by the Natives, which is why so many cities in the US are named "-field."
- "Plimouth" was the original spelling of Plymouth.
