It was mid-morning when Jeanne and Verity had made their way to the graveyard outside the town walls, both women morning over the fact that they had failed to save the young Nathan Bailey's life. Jeanne had picked from wildflowers early that same morning to place at his grave.
"You think he would have liked them?" Verity asked, her arms crossed as she stared down at the fresh dirt mound. "Men are always so odd when it comes to flowers. Too feminine."
Jeanne smirked. The Scot was kneeling by the grave marker, arranging the flowers to make them more presentable. "Two beautiful women doting over his grave with gifts." She glanced up at her friend. "He would have loved it." As she stood, she wiped her hands down her skirts, brushing off any dirt that had been staining the fabric. "My uncle isn't happy with Redwick, but with Bailey's death, we have no witnesses or proof that the Marshall was planning a coupe."
"The slimy git." Verity spat, making Jeanne laugh. While that one moment had been humorous, they continued to stand beside one another, staring down at the dirt that buried the body of the young, misled Militia.
"The boys dead, Verity." Meredith Rutter spoke, approaching the two women and interrupting their grieving. "The cause of it is…the cause of all our ills…is them in charge…" He rambled on, unaware of the harsh glare that Jeanne was sending him. Jeanne blamed Redwick for it, as her uncle tried to end the matter peacefully. Jeanne believed that had she been more aware, more prepared, she could have shot the rifle from the Marshall's grip before he could shoot his man in the back as he had. "Just leave it be. Huh? and um…I'm ready for my breakfast." He begged her to return to the tavern with him.
"Come on…" Jeanne sighed, putting an arm around her friend in comfort as she led her back towards the town gates. The Scot noticed Farlow approaching them, only for the man to pause and toss his cane down by Verity's feet.
"Pick it up," Farlow ordered, glancing between his cane and the Irish woman, staring at him like a pompous fool. "You see it there. It pleases me that you should pick it up."
"Farlow…" Jeanne warned as her grip around her friend's middle tightened in a protective manner. Choosing to ignore Jeanne, Verity bent down and picked up the well-crafted wood, holding it out to Farlow by the handle.
"Obedience delayed is as insolent as defiance," Farlow seethes, not impressed with how long it took the woman to adhere to his order. "I will let it pass…this time." He strutted past the two women, Verity offering him a curtsy as he went. But to Jeanne, it wasn't good enough. Jeanne sought after the Secretary, stalking him down with fevered steps as she left her friend behind, unaware of the chaos her Irish friend was planning.
"Farlow!" Jeanne screeched, quickly catching up with the man as she began to walk beside him. He offered her a morning greeting as if he hadn't acted an entitled ass to her friend. "Don't 'good morning' me, why were you so rude?"
He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, shrugging slightly. "Verity is one of the women who needs to learn her place," Farlow explained, not stopping in his trek to his planned destination.
Jeanne scoffed. "And me? Am I not a woman who doesn't know her place?"
Farlow stopped at her words, turning on her with a cold gaze. "You have a place, Miss Gardner." He spoke darkly, yet there was an undertone of respect. "You are the niece of our Lord Governor, his acting hand in his absence. Many look to you, especially the women, as you've shown to be someone who leads with dignity and equity." Jeanne felt herself at a loss for words as she listened to him lecture her, overwhelmed by his commendations. "Verity Rutter is a convict who lives on the lowest social stature with a drunkard fool for a husband. That is the difference between you two."
"I'm the orphan of an English Lady who chose to run off on her wedding day to a Lord to be with a lower-class Scotsmen." She gritted out.
"Regardless, you are born of noble blood and a niece of a knighted Lord and behave of one of such station." Farlow leaned down over her, trying to make sure she understood his words. "You may think you are lesser than you are, but you act as someone who you fear."
"I don't fear—"
"You do." Farlow cut her off. "You fear being a Lady, being someone of rank and leadership, and everything that comes with it. The prestige, wealth, power…and marriage of convenience." As he stared down at her unblinkingly. Jeanne returned his look, matching the ferocity of gaze just as strongly, not caring if their disagreement caught the attention of any passing colonisers. With gritted teeth and a scoff, Jeanne turned harshly, stomping back towards the comfort of Jamestown. "You know I'm speaking the truth, Miss Gardner!" Farlow yelled after her, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of a response. She couldn't. Ignoring the looks of residents she passed as she returned home, slamming the Yeardley residence door behind her and leaning against the wood with her eyes closed.
"Jeanne, everything okay?" George Yeardley asked, eyeing his niece cautiously from his desk. She sighed, moving away from the doorway. When she spared a glance towards the master bedroom, George chuckled. "Temperance is out for a morning walk. Now, what has you so ruffled?" He signalled for her to come closer to him.
Jeanne pursed her lips at the man as he leaned back in his desk chair. "Shouldn't you be in bed resting?" George Yeardley chuckled again but told her off for trying to change the subject. Jeanne scoffed, coming to stand in front of his desk, facing him. "Farlow…said something that really pissed me off."
George's brows dropped. "What did he say?" He leaned forward, gaze becoming cold at the thought of anyone upsetting his niece.
Jeanne looked away with a sigh. "Nothing that warrants your offence," She explained, continuing to avoid her uncle's gaze. "He said I fear…my station." Jeanne finally met George's eye. "I fear my noble blood and everything that comes with it. That I am above Verity." The words came out like a hiss, her hands clenching and unclenching, which didn't go unnoticed by her uncle.
He rolled his jaw as he thought about this information. George studied his niece, and he could see how obvious her upset and annoyance was over it. "Jeanne," He whispered her name. "You are who you are, and nothing can change that. What matters is how you portray yourself and how you wish to be perceived. Yes, you are the daughter of Lady Mary Yeardley, and through her, you gain everything she had, but you are also the daughter of Finlay Gardner, a simple Scottish hunter." George stood, moving around the desk to pull his niece into his arms. "You are born of both worlds. Embrace that. Don't run from it." Jeanne returned her uncle's hug, doing her best not to grip at him too hard due to his back still cleaning from his surgery.
"Thank you…" She mumbled into his chest before pulling away, gazing up at him with a warm smile.
He chuckled. "You have so much potential. If our society was different or you had been male, you would have made a worthy heir." Bringing a hand to her hand and patting over her red curl, George admired the young woman who stood before him, amazed by just how much she'd changed before his eyes over the years. "Now," He chuckled, dropping his arms to his side. "Go. I doubt you want to be stuck in here all day, and your aunt expects you at the town hall to aid with the preparations for the celebration of Saint John's Eve."
Jeanne smiled. "I need to see to Verity. The woman has a rage to her, and I left her alone after Farlow was rude to her."
"To scold him?" George asked, moving back around his desk and sitting down, grimacing slightly at the discomfort in his back.
"Yes." She answered, eyeing her uncle worriedly. "You take it easy. Doctors orders, and mine." Jeanne gave the man a playful glare, which he waved off with a chuckle and a promise to rest. With a final smile at her uncle, Jeanne left the Yeardley residence, taking a moment to breathe deeply before heading to the tavern to check on Verity. As she walked, she could hear the gossiping of the townsfolk, men and women discussing the rumour that Henry Sharrow was alive. It made Jeanne's jaw clench. She was still bitter over Alice's rape, and if Henry Sharrow dared show his face, she would make it her personal mission to make sure his return to Jamestown was a nightmare. When she arrived at the tavern, she found Verity and Alice sitting at the bar, the two friends deep in discussion over Henry's possible return.
"Verity, what if it's Henry that comes down that river, not Silas?" Alice mumbled, staring down at her hands as she rubbed them together worryingly.
Verity scoffed, looking up from the mug that was in her hands as she wiped the inside down. "Now, there's a thought to rob you of sleep."
"It's been on me all day," Alice looked up at her Irish friend, both women unaware that Jeanne was listening in. "that I might lift my head, and he's there."
"You need a weapon," Verity stated.
Alice's brows creased, confused, as the small woman was unsure why she needed a weapon. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Verity sighed, placing the mug on the bar top as she stared Alice down. "If he ever comes close to you, you kill him." Alice's mouth was agape, struggling to process how she could ever do that, even to a beast of a man like Henry Sharrow. She'd always deemed herself someone as a kind and gentle soul, unable to harm anyone for any reason.
Sighing, Jeanne entered. "You can have my knife." The redhead offered as her friends turned to her, each greeting the woman as Jeanne joined them at the bar.
"I don't know about that," Alice muttered, looking between her friends. "I mean…is it wise to carry a knife?"
Verity scoffed. "I would if I had one…should get one…" She shrugged, picking up another mug that needed to be wiped down.
Jeanne smiled at the Irish woman before looking at Alice. "A lot of women back home carried them. It was for safety, not just from men, but wild animals." She sat down on an empty stool, keeping Alice's focus. "There is no shame in needing to defend yourself, but you will feel shame and guilt if something does happen and you lack the means to defend yourself. You will blame yourself in many ways."
Alice's gaze dropped, her mind processing the advice from her friends. "I'll reach out to James Read to see if he can't make me a blade." She nodded, more to herself than them. "I can't take your weapon away from you."
The Scottish lass chuckled. "Fair enough." She turned to Verity. "And how are your fairing this morning brush with Farlow."
Verity shrugged. "Better than you. Saw you go stomping past with a fury that could rival God's plagues." She laughed with a wide grin as Jeanne playfully glared back at her. "What the pompous arse say?" Her tone turned serious, slamming down another cleaned mug.
Jeanne looked away from them, unsure of how to mention it to her friends. "Implied that I'm too good for you and Alice and that I'm afraid of my station as our Knighted Governor's niece." She finally spoke after a long pause, her lips pursed. When she looked at them hesitantly, she found a mixed look of raised eyebrows and scornful looks.
"That entitled git." Verity barked loudly, making Alice jump.
"Verity…" Alice mumbled, trying to soothe her friend, but it fell on deaf ears as the Irish woman began to rant and rave. Alice and Jeanne shared a look and a defeated sigh as their friend went off, Jeanne even chuckling lightly. "She's impossible…" Alice whispered, leaning in close to Jeanne, who nodded approvingly.
"Oh, bite me…" Verity spoke, throwing a rag at Alice, making Jeanne laugh harder. "Your aunt asked me to help with the celebration preparations this afternoon." She braced herself on the bench top of the bar, looking at her fellow redhead. Jeanne grimaced, muttering an apology to her friend for being dragged into it. "Well, the two of us can play around. Who says we have to take it seriously."
Jeanne eyed her blankly. "Temperance." It was a true answer, making all three women chuckle. She moved to stand, looking at her two friends. "We should head over there; don't wish to risk the woman's wrath." Verity groaned dramatically but complied, tossing aside her latest mug that she'd been in the process of cleaning.
"Fine…" The Irish woman seethed, moving around the bar. Alice also stood, wishing her two friends a farewell as she planned to go and seek out James Read, the plan to ask for a dagger on her mind. Jeanne and Verity had ventured over to the town hall at midday, finding the building already a buzz with the majority of the female population of Jamestown hard at work preparing food, decorations and banners. The two redheads had found themselves out of place, choosing to sit at a table far in the back of the room as they put together flower arrangements and watched the other women. Temperance Yeardley was waltzing around the room, keeping an eye on everything.
"Is she actually going to help?" Verity whispered, glaring at the much older woman.
Jeanne snickered under her breath, tying together an arrangement with string. "She is," She commented, glancing at Verity. "She's 'overseeing' the preparation." Verity snorted quietly, making Jeanne chuckle a bit louder.
Temperance's head snapped in their direction, and she moved on them like a hawk. "You two enjoying yourselves?" She asked, giving the two women a studious look, suspicious of Jeanne's laughter.
"Oh, very much so, your Ladyship." Verity smiled widely at the woman from her work, her tone hinting at her mockery. If Temperance noticed it, she didn't voice it.
"You honour God and us this day then." Temperance returned the smile, her fingers gracing over the completed arrangements. "Very good." She finally spoke as she left, turning her back on the two women. Verity shot her a quick, dirty look as she departed.
Jeanne nudged her playfully and shushed her. "Must you…" She teased her friend."
"Not very Godly, was I?" Verity smirked, making Jeanne snort in laughter again. Temperance shot them another look but chose to ignore it, deciding to let her niece and her friend enjoy themselves as she felt they were causing harm to no one.
When they worked, it wasn't long until Jocelyn showed her face, inspecting the room as she followed Temperance around the room, throwing the Governor's wife honeyed words in an attempt to brown-nose. Jeanne could see just how uninterested her aunt was in the blonde woman, sending her curt smiles and nods that Jeanne knew were her aunt's way of implying, 'Go away, I don't like you'.
"Mind filling me in?" Verity whispered, following her friend's gaze and observing the scene.
Jeanne scoffed. "Mistress Castell is trying to earn the good graces of my aunt and uncle. She sees her husband becoming the next Governor." She explained, looking to Verity and seeing her friend's bewildered yet entertained face. "I think both my aunt and uncle are about ready to commit murder."
"I would say so," Verity spoke, her eyes still watching Temperance and Jocelyn converse. "She's got cheek, that one." Jeanne nodded. They continued to watch as Jocelyn's face was twitching, struggling to hold onto her false smile as Temperance offered to show the young woman 'guidance' on being a wife and inviting the blonde to an early 5 am Bible reading session the next morning at the Yeardley residence, making Jeanne snort. Temperance stated it was to witness God's dawn, but the older woman wanted to torment Jocelyn, as she never actually held any Bible readings that early in the morning. Merely a farce to test Jocelyn's intentions. A farce Jeanne would be more than happy to take a role in.
Jeanne had awoken before dawn, joining her aunt in the parlour as they waited for Jocelyn to arrive. Temperance had informed Jocelyn that they didn't break their fast until after the Bible reading as another way to torment the aspiring blonde. Jeanne had chuckled at that and even lectured her aunt for behaving in such an un-Godly way, but Temperance was adamant that she was testing Jocelyn's faith and obedience, and if she had to be cruel to do it, she would. The two women sat at the dining table, a bible in front of both of them, and when the steady knock rattled at the front door, Jeanne rose to answer it, granting access to the threshold to Jocelyn and her maidservant, Mercy, in tow behind her. Jocelyn had the same false smile on her face as the day before, only this time more strained. Jeanne knew the blonde was struggling to hold onto her sanity at this point. The Bible reading went smoothly, Temperance asked that Jocelyn lead the reading, which the woman was more than happy to comply with if it earned her Temperance's favour.
"In like manner also, that women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with shamefacedness and sobriety; not with broided hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array; but which becometh women professing godliness with good works. Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection." Jocelyn read aloud, quoting 1 Timothy 2:9-14 from her King James Bible. Jeanne sat opposite her at the table, pretending to read the same verse.
"Silence and subjection," Temperance spoke up from where she'd been pacing, correcting the blonde with a smile on her face. "Mistress Castell, let me ask you…" She approached the table, standing next to her niece. "How will you conduct this God-given day?"
"How will I…?" Jocelyn asked, the fake smile still on her face as she gazed up at Temperance in confusion.
"You will seek every opportunity to serve and obey your dear husband. You will meet his every wish, submit to his every word." Temperance moved away, tending to the fire in the fireplace, ready to begin preparing breakfast now that the Bible reading was over. "Is that not so?"
Jocelyn spared a glance to Jeanne, the redhead staring her down from over the bible in her hands, silently challenging her to object. "It is so." Jocelyn nodded, a grimace behind her smile.
"I feel God had brought you to me at this time so which you might find the light by which to live your life." Temperance chuckled warmly, gazing over her shoulder at the three women. Jocelyn could only nod, unsure of how else to respond. Jeanne continued to pretend to read from her bible as the blonde rose from her table, offering her farewells and leaving with her maidservant.
Jeanne sighed, finally closing her bible and placing it gently on the table. She turned in her seat to her aunt, watching the woman stir at a pot of porridge over the fireplace. "Did you get what you desired from that?"
Temperance paused briefly. "It is not what I want, but what God wants."
With pursed lips, Jeanne stood, leaving her aunt to see to her uncle by helping him out of bed and dressing for the day, being mindful of his wound. She inspected it, finding that it was healing well with no signs of infection, but she still warned him to seek out Dr. Priestley if he needed to. George had chuckled at her words, finding his niece's protectiveness charming. By the time they'd entered the parlour, Temperance had breakfast of porridge, bread and beer set out ready for them. As the three of them ate, they discussed their plans for the day. Temperance planned to continue working on the preparations for the celebration, while George wanted to get out and walk the settlement. While Jeanne would have initially aided her aunt, she didn't want her uncle out there on his own still a few days after his surgery.
"To spend the day out on a stroll with my niece, I couldn't ask for anything better." George smiled at Jeanne, reaching out to cup her hand and gently squeezing it. Jeanne returned the smile. The uncle and niece left Temperance to clean up after breakfast, heading into Jamestown. The settlers were pleased to see their Governor walking about after the events of the coupe that had transpired just two days prior. Jeanne slipped away from her uncle's arm when she spotted Farlow and Redwick, wishing to speak with the secretary now that she had calmed down, but as she drew near, she heard their discussion.
"A man can't lose a ruff." Redwick raised a brow at his colleague, unsure of how one of Farlow's belongings could have gone missing.
"Yes." Farlow rolled his jaw tensely. "I lashed my sewer, but he promised me he had not mislaid it."
"I have a brooch and sash missing. But no one here would dare steal." Redwick scoffed, eyeing off those around him suspiciously until his eyes landed on Jeanne, who had been listening in. "Miss Gardner…" He spoke bitterly. Farlow turned, greeting her curtly. After yesterday, he and the redhead were obviously bitter with one another, and Redwick picked up on it, his gaze shifting between his friend and the woman. "This about that disagreement—?"
"No." Both Jeanne and Farlow cut him off, glaring at him. Redwick's brows shot up, once again his eyes shifting between the pair. Without another word, Redwick stepped away, leaving the pair alone, as he didn't want to get in the middle of whatever strange relationship existed between Farlow and Jeanne.
"I'm sorry," Jeanne spoke, her eyes darting around everywhere but not at him. "I reacted poorly…but you…were right."
Farlow's brow creased as he looked at her. "And I was wrong to speak out of turn." Her gaze moved to him. "I am glad you have accepted my statement. Do know it wasn't my intention to offend."
"I know," She chuckled, shaking her head. "I guess I just wanted to cling to my past when I was just a simple Scottish peasant girl." As Farlow went to speak, she raised her hand to silence him. "But you're right, I'm not that anymore, I am the niece of our Knighted Governor, someone of stature." Farlow smiled. "You and Redwick were discussing missing items?" She asked, changing the subject, making Farlow's smile drop.
"Yes…" He seethed bitterly. "I'm missing a ruff, and Redwick is also missing some items. He thinks no one would dare steal."
"You disagree?"
Farlow scoffed. "Redwick is too assured of his power and influence. Just because he thinks no one would, doesn't mean they won't." He looked at the townsfolk around them, studying each one carefully with a scowl. Farlow wouldn't have put it past any of them to steal if given the opportunity to do so.
"It's not like they can fence the goods; someone walking around with your ruff would gain attention," Jeanne stated, following his gaze.
"Indeed," Farlow spoke, looking back at the young woman.
As Jeanne looked around, her eyes landed on her uncle, who was currently speaking with James Read, while leaning against a barrel, making her concerned. "I must go, Farlow, and see to my uncle."
He followed her gaze, seeing her uncle. "Yes. Our Governor needs you." Farlow bowed to her. "Good day, Mistress Jeanne." He spoke her name in a higher stature than 'miss' as he had in the past.
"Lord Farlow," She mirrored, curtsying her own farewell as she approached her uncle, listening to the two men discuss Meredith Rutter and Henry Sharrow. The topic made her purse her lips. She wasn't thrilled that that foul man's name was being uttered by her uncle. As George Yeardley stood up and turned around, he paused under his niece's gaze, as did the blacksmith when he noticed the Governor freeze. While James was confused by the stare-down, George knew it too well. Approaching his niece, he pulled her off to the side.
"Jeanne…" He started, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to them. "The last time you gave me that stare, you were seventeen, and your aunt had brought rich men and their sons into my home to show you off. What is wrong?"
"Henry Sharrow." She spat the name. "Why were you discussing him?"
"Sharrow?" He asked confusingly. George was curious as to what the man had done to earn his niece's fury in such a manner. "I believe he has gone looking for gold."
Jeanne scoffed. "What is it with all of you and your obsession with gold…" She was exhausted over the topic. "There is wealth and beauty in these lands in the very people and nature. Shouldn't that be enough?"
"Not for our King—"
"Then our King is a fool." Jeanne cut him off.
George's gaze darkened. He leaned in close to his niece, a single finger raised in warning. "Do not speak of our King in such manner, for it is treason, and I, as your Governor, have a responsibility to see to those who commit treason are hanged."
"Then hang me." Jeanne retorted back, unaffected by her uncle's threat. George Yeardley breathed heavily, his anger boiling at his niece's defiance of the crown. With a tight jaw, George turned, stomping away from Jeanne before he did something he knew both of them would regret. Jeanne looked to James Read, the man watching them in bewilderment. "What?" She yelled out to him.
"Nothing." He muttered, shaking his head. She moved closer towards him, watching as the man sat down on a small crate. "Just never seen our Governor so mad and yet not acting upon the anger."
"Like when you punched him?" She asked, tilting her head at the man, making him click his tongue, and nod. "He would never harm me, even if I killed the King myself." James chuckled at that. Jeanne was fortunate her uncle cared so deeply for her, but she did wonder if there was ever a limit to that love, that one day she would do something that would leave him unable to look at her.
"Your Ladyship!"
Both James and Jeanne looked up, watching Verity walk towards them with her husband in tow.
"I'll smack you." Jeanne joked, making Verity laugh and calling her 'Lady' over and over, making light of their conversation from yesterday. Their joking was cut short by Pepper Sharrow running through the town, talking to anyone who would listen, moving from one person to the next. "What is that boy doing…?" Just as the mumble left her lips, Pepper came running to them, almost out of breath.
"Hornworms…the farm…invested…" The boy gasped out, eyes wide as he looked at the four of them.
James Read moved to stand, his jaw tense. "Let us help."
As the previous morning, Jeanne had woken before dawn to join her aunt and Jocelyn in morning prayers and Bible reading, but her mind was elsewhere. Today was the day she had promised to meet with Chacrow, using the celebration as a cover, believing everyone attending would be too merry and heavily influenced by drink to notice her absence, even her uncle and aunt. She listened to Temperance speaking to Jocelyn about how she is to influence and teach the blonde woman the bliss and blessing for a woman to know her place in the world. Jeanne had to bite her tongue to hold back the snort. To the redheaded woman, the place Temperance spoke of was that of English women. as the Scots held their women in a different regard, even when religion came into play. Temperance told Jocelyn she needed to accept it. Another statement Jeanne wanted to scoff at.
Jeanne's eyes moved to the door of the master bedroom, where her uncle was still asleep. She couldn't help but wonder what he would think of his wife's statement about a woman's place and how Jeanne would fit into it, even after she'd angered him yesterday, but she pushed the thought from her mind. After Jocelyn left, Jeanne went to fetch and dress her uncle, the man remaining silent even as she greeted him. But he stopped her when she stepped away to move towards the doorway.
"Jeanne…" George Yeardley sighed, spinning her to face him. "Yesterday—"
"It's fine." Jeanne cut him off. "We both said things we shouldn't have."
He nodded. "Why does Henry Sharrow anger you so?" George noticed the way his niece's jaw tensed from the man's name alone, making him more suspicious. "Did he harm you? touch you?"
"No." she shook her head. "Not I…but…"
Now, it was George's turn to have his jaw tense. "But he did harm another woman in the colony…" He watched Jeanne nod, making him sigh. "He has been presumed dead for weeks now. Why didn't you mention this before?"
Jeanne looked at him, shame in her eyes. "She didn't want me to." She had truly wanted to tell him, knowing that one word from her as George would have seen the man hanging from a rope the very next day after the rape had occurred, but Alice had put her trust and faith in Jeanne, and she wanted to keep it. George could only nod as he let go of his niece's arm, watching her walk into the parlour, breakfast ready and waiting for them. As they sat with Temperance, his wife was unaware of the disturbing topic they'd just discussed and more than happy to smile and converse with her husband, leaving George Yeardley to play along like nothing was wrong.
Once breakfast had concluded, Temperance had seen to ensuring that Jeanne was dressed into one of her finer garments of embroidered green and that the redhead's hair was styled back in a delicate braided bun. Jeanne thought it was too much for a celebration, but even Temperance had dressed up for the occasion. Jeanne took the first opportunity she had to slip away, scurrying between buildings and evading settlers as she moved about, making her way to the edge of town to the gates. She waited for a moment when a large group passed through, enabling her to slip by without being spotted as she dashed out of the settlement. It wasn't until she was far down the road towards the Massinger plantation that she was able to catch her breath and look back, watching the people that flooded into Jamestown. With a smile, she made her way towards the patch of Tulip Trees Chacrow had taken her to just days ago.
Sitting down under the very tree the native man had climbed, she waited. It felt like an eternity as she sat there, watching the sun through the leaf-covered treetops as it slowly made its way high into the middle of the sky and began to descend as the day was ending. Chacrow never came, leaving the Scottish woman feeling insulted. She'd missed out on a day of celebrations with her friends to uphold her end of their deal.
Rising to her feet, she took one last look awake. "Git…" Jeanne seethed. Hiking up her skirts, she began the trek back into Jamestown, praying she hadn't missed out on too much. Not long after arriving back, she found herself dancing with Verity and Alice outside the town hall when the music came to a sudden stop, everyone turning towards the open town gates, Henry Sharrow staring back at them, half his face mattered in burn scars. Jeanne naturally moved herself in front of Alice, her hands twitching in demand for her to reach for the dagger that was secure on her calf.