Three days. She had to suffer her aunt Temperance alone for three long and brutal days. The woman had been complaining to her niece about Jocelyn, with plans to write a letter back home to England to have her status investigated, all because the blonde got too friendly with George Yeardley and no amount of reassurance to her aunt that the young woman didn't want an affair with her husband, helped the situation. And then there was the Alice and Silas issue. From sources not revealed to Jeanne, Alice had discovered that a man named Donovan Hamble might be responsible for stealing the musket, as he went missing around the time it did. Alice had spent the last three days digging around Massinger's plantation, hoping to find a body.

Jeanne guessed the very idea of a body being found on Massinger's land was enough to scare the man into dropping the charges against Silas Sharrow. Jeanne knew she had to fill her uncle with the fact that the brute possibly killed one of his workers and disposed of the body.

She was gladly standing at the dock beside her aunt when the boat docked, her uncle and Farlow alive. A soldier was accidentally shot during their first night of making camp towards Chacrow's village. The native man had escaped while everyone thought him asleep, and while trying to stop him, a militia was shot instead. Because of how long his body had been decomposing, the funeral would be rushed. Only one tarp-covered body was brought up to be buried.

While the last few days had been uneventful after the return of Chacrow to his people, Jeanne's uncle had given her clear warnings not to be alone outside of the town walls. She had questioned him about it, but he had refused to provide her with an answer, something which he had never done before. Yeardley had always been honest with his niece, adhering to her every request since she had come to live with him and more so after her mother's passing. Yeardley had also dragged her along with him nearly everywhere he went. Hence, she now stood beside him, the other council members, Doctor Priestly and Reverend Whitaker, outside the town walls, in the graveyard, looking at the dug-up grave of Lord De La Warr.

During the night, Doctor Priestly had been out for a stroll to help him sleep, only to come across a shadowing figure digging up the grave. Jeanne didn't want to think about what a horrible person one must be to disturb a man's final resting place.

"Why would someone dig up De La Warr's body?" Yeardley leaned over the open grave, the coffin's wooden lid visible under a thin layer of dirt.

Redwick squatted on the opposite side to Yeardley, scowling at the scene. "Why? We know why."

"The map. It was never discovered," Farlow answered flatly, standing behind the Marshall.

"There were only ever rumours such a map existed." Reverend Whitaker commented from where he stood behind the group, still dressed in his night clothes, a sight Jeanne found unseemly.

Recorder Castel sighed, rubbing the side of his face before crossing his arms, his friend Priestly on his right. "And that De La Warr had it."

"Whoever was digging here believed there was such a map." Yeardley stood, tossing a few loose stones into the grave.

Jeanne moved up to his left, touching his arm gently. "What map?"

Marshall Redwick rose, ready to lecture the woman for interjecting herself into their meeting, but Farlow cut him off. "A map that was purchased from the Portuguese said to mark where there are gold mines." Shock overtook Jeanne's features as she heard him. The idea of gold in the New World had been rumours she'd heard from sailors on the London docks, but that was it, only rumours, for no gold had ever actually been found. Every European country would claim land and war to see the tiniest bit if there was. Farlow looked to Yeardley. "De La Warr was your friend, Governor. Did he perhaps mention it to you?"

"Never," Yeardley spoke, staring down at the grave. "But that didn't mean he didn't have it, as I'm sure you are aware. Whiteaker, when De La Warrs body arrived here, where did it lie?" He faced the Reverend. The holy man explained that the body couldn't be held in the church due to having been dead at sea for some time, so it had been laid to rest in haste. Instead, the body had been held in the doctor's apothecary.

Yeardley began to pace, deep in thought at the situation. He shared a look with his niece, coming up to whisper in her ear. The rest of the men watched as the two talked to one another, suspicion entering their minds as the woman's eyes waltzed over them. After a moment, Yeardley nodded, stepping back from his niece.

"He has been dead and buried for some time, yet someone waited, for now, to dig him up," Jeanne spoke, looking over at the coffin's wood and sniffing. The body had rotted away to where there was no detectable smell. "Someone from Jamestown had to wait patiently for this, just for the temptation of the possibility of a map existing with the corpse."

"Agreed," Farlow stated, watching the woman with keen interest.

The group parted ways, with Yeardley ordering the grave to be covered by two nearby soldiers. Jeanne wanted to stay by the grave to oversee that De La Warr was adequately buried, but her uncle's pestering calls pulled her away. She really wasn't enjoying being the man's personal shadow. They walked in sync as they made their way back to the Yeardley residence, the Governor taking his time to greet the residents of Jamestown. Jeanne's mind drifted back to her uncle's whispers, how anyone could be responsible. Jamestown had nearly a hundred residents, a mixture of soldiers, Company men, and freemen. It was true that any could have done it. It was also the fact that if a man who served the Virginia Company did take the map and happened to find any gold, it would immediately become the Company's possession by contract. It was a form of slavery, one that the Sharrow brothers once found themselves under.

"Do you believe in this map, uncle?" Jeanne asked, gaining the older man's attention.

Yeardley hummed, unsure of how to answer. "I would like to think so. If De La Warr did have the map, I never saw it, nor did I know about its rumoured existence until long after his passing." Jeanne opened her mouth to comment but was silenced when Silas Sharrow approached them, smiling widely.

"Governor Yeardley, Mistress Gardner." He greeted them. "Alice and I are to be wed today. I am off to arrange everything with Reverend Whiteaker."

"That is wonderful news, Mr Sharrow." Yeardley extended his hand, shaking it ecstatically when the younger man took his hand. Jeanne joined in on the praises, happy for her friends, especially Alice. The dark-haired woman needed some joy in her life after the events of her rape by Henry Sharrow, and being married to the man she loved would undoubtedly do it.

Jeanne had wanted to go off to find Alice, to help her friend prepare for the wedding, but once again, she was forced to return home. Being confined to the Yeardley home with only her aunt to keep her company, Jeanne was on the brink of losing her sanity. She wasn't sure where Temperance had gotten the idea into her head, but the older woman had decided to read her bible passages aloud to her niece. The Scot couldn't voice her objection or flee to her bed chambers, so she suffered in silence.

Later in the afternoon, the people of Jamestown gathered in the church to bare witness to the union of Silas Sharrow and Alice Kett, each dressed in the finest clothes they owned, which wasn't much due to being from the lower class, but they still made an effort to look suitable for the day. Jeanne sat between her aunt and uncle on one of the front pews. To see the smiles on the faces of the happy couple was uplifting, as not many women could say they married for love. Whether poor or rich, it was always for convenience.

Once the exchanging of vows and rings ended, the town began a celebration outside, full of congratulations, smiles and hugs. Jocelyn and her husband presented the married couple with a cow for their farm as a wedding gift.

Governor Yeardley had called over his wife and niece, pulling them from the celebrated to stand on either side of him. "I would like to congratulate Silas and Alice Sharrow on behalf of myself, my wife and my niece. On behalf of the Virginia company. You are what this colony needs most, farmers, families and marriage." He announced before kissing his wife's lips and another atop Jeanne's head. The town cheered him on, elated by his words. At times, Yeardley knew how to win over the people, and now, the town needed the distraction from the morning's event of grave robbing.

Most of the townsfolk moved their celebrates to Rutter's tavern to make merry and drink. Alice was delighted that she had been allowed to attend, happy to finally have a moment of freedom from her aunt and uncle's protectiveness. They had not joined the town for the celebrations or any of Jamestown's upper class. But no one seemed to mind, for it was fun to dance and drink the ale that Rutter brewed long into the long hours of the night or until Yeardley had come to collect his niece as the others continued to celebrate.

The next day, Yeardley had pulled his niece aside after breakfast, apologising for his actions as of late, blaming them on the natives sneaking into Jamestown and her having been outside the walls in harm's way that made him worry. He avoided looking at her when he told her this. He was lying. While Jeanne chose to believe him to give him the comfort he craved, she knew there was still a way to get answers. Secretary Farlow.

She made her way into the town centre, towards the town hall, spotting her target, conversing with Marshal Redwick and Nathan Bailey from behind. Jeanne raised an eyebrow as she watched the three of them. It was customary to see the Secretary and Marshall together. To see young Bailey with them was not. The young man was a soldier serving under Rewick and the Virginia Company. It still didn't make sense. She watched them from afar as they talked, the three men facing the town well, noticing Farlow point to meek young Mercy, Jocelyn's handmaiden. It was then that it clicked. Farlow and Redwick were suspicious of the lady Castell, and it's not like the blonde wasn't making it easy for herself, as she kept sticking her nose into everyone's business and upsetting most of the town. On the one hand, Jeanne could count the number of people the woman had disturbed since her arrival. Imagine what she could do in a year.

Jeanne waited for the trio to disperse before she followed Farlow, wanting to speak with him privately. She trotted fast, trying to catch up with him. "Farlow!" She called to him, getting the older man's attention. His brows were furrowed as he turned around but softened when he spotted her.

"Ah, Jeanne, what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired, still walking as she came up next to him.

"I was hoping to have a word in private." She stated, blue eyes moving around to ensure her aunt or uncle weren't spying on them.

Farlow chuckled. "Not going to ask me questions about that map, are you?"

"No," She shook her head. "It's about my uncle's behaviours as of late. He has been overly protective since you all returned from your visit with the Pamunkey." Farlow's face formed a thin line as they reached the door to his home, and Jeanne understood the look. "You do know what's going on." She lectured, taking a step closer to him.

Farlow sighed, opened his door and pushed her inside quickly. He went to open his mouth when he stopped, words on the tip of his tongue. There was a smell in the air. He looked sound his parlour as he continued to sniff. Noticing what he was doing, Jeanne copied him. The smell was sweet and floral, not the scent she was used to smelling in his home or on him at all. It was perfume, a woman's perfume. Jeanne groaned aloud, muttering a curse under her breath.

"Jocelyn." Jeanne seethed.

Farlow's head snapped to her. "It seems you're correct."

"Think Farlow, what would she be doing in your home?"

Farlow's eyes scanned over his possessions, unsure what the target of that conniving blonde could be. "I'm not sure what that witch could have wanted." He spoke through gritted teeth, moving to find the cursed woman, but Jeanne stopped him. Farlow had no evidence that Jocelyn had been in his home, nothing but a scent in the air. That wasn't enough to act, and he knew it. The man continued to breathe deeply to calm himself. Jeanne maneuvered him to sit at his dining table as she poured him some wine to help manage him, which Farlow was grateful for.

"I will speak to Jocelyn." Jeanne spoke, calming, trying to reassure the man. He only smiled grimly at her but nodded, letting the wine calm his frazzled nerves. "Now, about my uncle."

Farlow hummed. "And here I was hoping you'd forget."

"Think you'd know me better than that by now." She snorted, earning a chuckle from him.

"Indeed." He rose to pour himself more wine and also a glass for Jeanne. "What did our Governor tell you of our meeting with the Pumunkey?"

Jeanne shook her head. "Nothing."

Farlow hummed again. "Well, that native man escaped camp on the first night and was waiting for us at his village when we arrived." Jeanne nodded as Farlow began to fill her in. "It didn't go well. Their Chief refused to answer our questions about the musket and only expressed fears of us Englishmen expanding due to women now being here. Ill words were said from both sides."

"So that's why my uncle doesn't want me leaving Jamestown?"

"No," Farlow spoke, his town turning grim. "They asked about you, the non-English woman with hair of fire."

Jeanne felt her back tighten, and a chill ran down her spine. She remembered how Chacrow had looked at her, how his eyes always found her. Silas had told her that Chacrow could further himself in his culture by stealing the Englishmen's tools. What could stealing a white woman gain him? "Yeardley thinks they will take me."

"Yes."

Farlow's words hit her hard. A few times in her life, Jeanne had indeed been scared, and this might have been the worst. All she could do was nod, not even being able to touch her wine as the pair sat in silence. Farlow had reached a hand over to place on top of one of hers, a comfort she didn't know she needed.

The two of them had been pulled from their silence when the meeting bell rang out. They shared a look. There had been no planned meeting for today, and neither had been expecting one. Farlow had led Jeanne by the arm to the town hall as others began to trickle in. Farlow bowed in farewell as he stood his seat at the council table. As she watched him go, Jeanne spotted James Read before the council, shackles holding his wrists at his back. She moved forward through the crowds of people until she found Verity leaning against a wall.

"What happened?" Jeanne whispered to her fellow redhead. Verity clicked her tongue, unsure of how to answer at first.

"He punched your uncle."

Jeanne's eyes widened as they shot to the front of the room, looking from James to her uncle, spotting his spilt lip and the dried blood. It must have happened as she was meeting with Farlow. Yeardley stood from his position at the centre of the council table, ordering the blacksmith to give his defence.

"You've known me all these years, sir. I've never been a man of fierce temper. I am a man whose possessed by jealousy as I was denied my desire to marry the maid Mistress Kett." James explained, turning his head behind him to stare at Alice, who stood at the front of the crowd by her new husband, Silas.

"That is not the matter at hand here," Marshall Redwick interjected. "You struck the Governor." James Read tried to defend himself further, placing blame for his actions on Redwick and Farlow, stating that they had encouraged him to seek out Alice and that she would willingly marry him. "You were invited to speak on these affairs! You made blows onto the head of our colony. That is an offence punishable by hanging!" Marshal Redwick's words rippled through the crowd. Gasps followed by a cold silence overtook them all, rendering James speechless. "So mark this," The marshall stood, pointing to Recorder Castell. "James Read, you stand convicted to be taken to the gallows this day, and by the rope around your neck, your life will be taken from you."

Jeanne knew she was breathing heavily. She could feel the way her chest heaved under her corset. She watched as two soldiers led him out of the town hall, the citizens of Jamestown following close behind. Redwick took the lead, guiding his men to the gallows, where James was made to stand on a barrel as the noose was tried around his neck. Jeanne stood with her uncle and aunt as a soldier kicked the barrel out from under the blacksmith, the rope having not been adjusted for his height as he dangled, feet scrapping the ground as he choked himself. Had the rope been changed for his size, his neck would have snapped and given him a quick death. Most of Jamestown couldn't watch, and Jeanne even found the sight sickening.

Alice ran forward, looking to Yeardley, pleading for James' life. "Governor Yeardley, sir, I beg you–"

"It's too late for appeasing words. He struck me." The governor cut her off, glaring as the young man struggled for life.

"But who will shoe your horse when the blacksmith is hanged," Alice stated the question as if the answer was obvious, and it was. Yeardley realised it the moment she said it. James Read was the only blacksmith in Jamestown, and without him, they could be waiting months for a replacement to be sent from England. Months without a blacksmith would only make it difficult for Jamestown to ensure the repairing and forging of weaponry, armour, farming equipment and horseshoes.

"Hold," Yeardley stated, looking at Alice. "Holdfast!" He called out to the soldiers, who were quick to act, lifting the man up to place him on a short box, allowing him to fight to get breaths into his lungs, the effect burning him. "James Read," Yeardley approached, ignoring the look the blacksmith sent him. "God has seen fit to give you a second chance. If you are willing to show contrition and obedience, you may be spared."

He struggled to voice out an apology through his wounded throat to his Governor but got the message through. Yeardley ordered his release, and the town disbursed, Jeanne following after her aunt and uncle, not sparing a look behind her, knowing that Alice would try to comfort the wounded man. A man in love with her but couldn't have her. Alice's pitying would only make it harder for James to move on.

With all the distractions, Jeanne had forgotten her promise to Farlow. To seek out Jocelyn Castel and speak to the woman about her offending actions to the Secretary.

Jeanne had been pulled into Jocelyn's home the next day by her aunt, and alongside the other women of Jamestown, to embroider a tapestry to commemorate Jamestown. Jeanne had found it odd that this was being done at Jocelyn's and not at the Yeardley residence. Temperance stated that it had been Jocelyn's idea, a way to bring the women together and do some women's work. Jeanne had to hold back her snort at that.

She helped to thread up the needles and handed them off to the women as they began to stitch at the canvas. Jeanne wasn't one for embroidery. She knew how to do it, as it was expected of her as a woman, but it didn't mean she had to enjoy it.

Harsh knocking at the door pulled the group's attention as Marshal Redwick and Secretary Farlow stormed in, stopping when they spotted the women.

Jocelyn greeted them, a false smile evident on her face as she invited them to join them. Jeanne eyed the woman before she looked to the men, locking eyes with Farlow.

"Actually, we need Jeanne," Farlow stated nonchalantly, playing off the awkwardness as best he could. "We had some ideas we wanted her opinion on before we ran them by the Governor," Redwick muttered his agreement, not liking the situation and looking for an excuse too.

Jeanne didn't bother to respond as she stood, offering the women a farewell as she left after the men, thanking them for getting her out of there once the door was shut. Redwick grunted before storming off, wanting to find soldier Bailey and wring the skinny man's neck. Jeanne looked to Farlow, a single brow raised.

He simply gave her a weak smile before moving off after his friend, leaving Jeanne to stand there alone outside the Castell home.