Dangerous Dreams: A Novel (43 page)

“Well, the first part’s easy . . . because you
are
who you
are
: a beautiful, intelligent . . . and yes, sensual young lass who doesn’t know she’s that way, which, of course, makes you all the more attractive. By the bye, many
women go a lifetime without such attention. So that’s the
why
of it. But the
what to do
part is more difficult, and I don’t have an answer other than to follow your heart and your mind and let it unfold with time.” She knew George had made no secret of his adoration of Emily, and she was very comfortable with the thought of him and Emily together someday, but Tayler was a different song. She realized she’d just frowned when she thought of him, quickly cast a smile, wondering if Emily had noticed. Elyoner wished she hadn’t heard the gossip about Tayler before leaving England; she wanted desperately to tell Emily but had no substantiation of the hearsay, so refused, in spite of her intuition, to interfere with what could be an innocent, fulfilling relationship. On the other hand, she thought, what if it
is
true? Then she’d be saving Emily from an unsavory, perhaps dangerous, situation. What to do?

“I saw your hard look, Ellie Dare. You must have been thinking of Hugh and the secret you know about him. Please, Ellie, what is it? Honestly, it could be something that would sway me, change my thinking. I wish you’d tell me and let
me
bear the burden instead of it tormenting
you
.” She knew it had to be serious, or Elyoner would have told her, but she also knew the noble Elyoner would
never
tell her unless she was
sure
it was true, and concluded such was the case.”

“You’re too perceptive, Emily Colman. But forsooth, ’tis not something I’d feel right talking about because I’ve no idea if ’tis true, and I refuse to be an instrument of slander if ’tis in fact false.”

“But what if ’tis true, Ellie?”

“Em, this is very difficult for me, and I don’t know what to say . . . and I feel horrible talking about it because it’s agitated you so and made me feel small and petty. So I beg your indulgence and beseech you to forget I mentioned it and—Ow! This one’s sucking me dry.” She glanced at Virginia. “She’s a greedy one, and young Henry Harvie has an appetite, as well. So I’m probably more excited about you nursing next week than you are.”

“I doubt
that
, Ellie. I’m so
very
excited. May I hold her for a while?”

“Of course.”

She handed Virginia to Emily, who laid her on her shoulder and started burping her. “Don’t fret about your secret. I understand, and I respect your
judgment in not wanting to tell me. Meanwhile”—she smiled at Elyoner— “I’ll just continue being tormented and wondering what it is.”

Five minutes after Elyoner had laid Virginia down for a rest, Emily said, “Well, Ellie. You’d better get some rest, as well. Tomorrow will be a long day for the four of you. I’ll miss you, my dear friend, though we’ll only be apart for five days.” She extended her arms to Elyoner, who took her hands, pulled her into a tearful embrace.

“My Emily. I shall miss you, too . . . more than you’ll ever know. Though we’re all excited to escape Roanoke, there may yet be much danger ahead— the voyages are not without risk, and what awaits us at Chesapeake is something only God himself knows.” She held Emily at arms’ length, looked into her stunning eyes. “Be safe, my friend. Virginia and I shall await you.”

Emily’s heart and mind churned with anxious emotion while a flutter of foreboding tickled the pit of her stomach; she slowly pulled Elyoner toward her, and the two kissed on the cheek, quickly hugged again. “Goodbye, my friend. Fare thee well.”

“And thee, as well,” Elyoner said, rubbing her eyes.

Emily turned, walked out the door, wondered if she’d ever see Elyoner again.

Emily and her father had been asleep for two hours when someone scratched on their cottage door. Thomas Colman continued snoring, but Emily stood, walked to the door. “Who is it?”

Elyoner said, “ ’Tis I, Em. I must speak to you urgently. I’m so sorry to wake you, but ’tis very important.”

Emily quietly opened the door, slipped outside in her smock. “Ellie, what is it? Is something wrong with Virginia?” Even in the moonlight Emily could see that Elyoner’s eyes were red from crying, her face strained with anxiety.

“Emily,” she whispered, “I couldn’t sleep, been crying all night, agonizing . . . agonizing about telling you what I heard of Hugh Tayler. Even
though it might be false, I can’t keep it from you any longer. Your safety may be at stake. “

A chill raced down Emily’s spine. “Ellie, what is it?”

Elyoner took a deep breath, rubbed her eyes. “Father told me before we left England that Hugh was . . . was on the run from something, that he
had
to leave England; but he never told me why, and I’m not sure he knew. Father didn’t want to bring him, but someone higher up insisted. I didn’t think much of it until the day we departed England, when I overheard that young sergeant, Johnny Gibbes, talking to another soldier.” She took another deep breath.

Emily’s eyes were taut with concentration, lips pursed.

Tears welled in Elyoner’s eyes, rolled onto her cheeks. “Emily . . . I feel so terrible telling you this.”

“Go on, Elyoner.”

“He said . . . before Hugh was in the army, he . . . he forced himself on a young lass, made her pregnant, then beat her, abused her in other ways . . . then abandoned her when she was on her deathbed, and ran away. Oh, Em, I’ve been so afraid for you when you were alone with him. But”— she held her shoulders, looked into her eyes—“ what if ’tis not true? What an awful thing for me to say about someone.”

Emily shook her head repeatedly back and forth; tears filled her eyes as she embraced Elyoner, held her tight, spoke in a broken whisper. “My dear, dear friend. Thank you for telling me. I know how difficult it was. But now you’re free of it, and ’tis
my
burden to deal with, as it should be, and deal with it I shall. Thank you, Ellie. I love you, my friend. Now get some rest.” She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her, but another dropped in its place. How can I ask him? What will he say? What
can
he say? What will he think of me if ’tis not true? What will he do if it
is
true? My Lord, please help me know what to do.

As Elyoner nodded, started to walk away, she stopped, turned and said, “Em, please be careful.”

The pinnace and shallop returned from the second voyage on schedule, two days before the third voyage was to depart, reported an uneventful trip and smooth disembarking of people and equipment. The two pilots, John Hemmington and Peter Little, reported that the new village was laid out about a hundred yards from the Chesapeakes’ village and that work had begun on cottages. Since winter was near, they had decided to build grassmat cottages, as at Roanoke, and then replace them in the spring with either bark-covered lodges like the Chesapeakes used or perhaps more permanent log buildings. Unfortunately, while grass mats were the quickest pathway to shelter, they were the least effective at holding a fire’s heat, and with only a smoke hole in the roof rather than a chimney, the fire had to be kept at a modest level to prevent rising sparks from igniting the grass.

Soon after the boats arrived, Roger Baylye, the remaining Assistants, and Sergeants Myllet and Gibbes held an impromptu meeting at Myllet’s request. As a veteran of many battles, Myllet had learned to trust his instincts; and they now pummeled him with discomfort at the fact that only half of their total number remained at Roanoke, including but a third of the soldiers. The fishing incidents with the Savages further aggravated his discomfort, for he recognized that the colony’s obvious reduced strength had emboldened them. So when the group assembled in Baylye’s cottage, Baylye immediately turned the meeting over to Myllet, who spoke somewhat nervously of their vulnerability, strongly urged the Assistants to change the departure plan and leave the island as soon as possible rather than on the planned departure day.

Baylye, who’d had similar discomforting feelings, immediately saw the wisdom of Myllet’s proposal, put it to a quick vote, which passed unanimously. They would consolidate equipment and belongings that very afternoon, start loading an hour before first light, and be on their way by early morning, a full day before the planned departure. As the meeting adjourned, Baylye asked one of the Assistants to tell John Cheven to quickly gather a few men to take the shallop to the outer banks and retrieve the salt crew. He then asked another to assign young Robert Ellis the task of carving
CROATOAN
on the large tree on the pathway between the shore and village. The lad had done a sharp, legible carving of the
word on the palisades post, and Baylye wanted him to do the pathway carving, as well.

It took five gallons of seawater to yield four cups of salt; and the task of producing it was labor intensive: the water had to be held at a boil for hours and frequently stirred, which meant firewood had to be pre-positioned so it could be fed to the fire as needed, to maintain the boil until the water evaporated and the residual salt was the consistency of wet sand. Then at the end of the day, before the shallop returned the crew to Roanoke, the salt was bagged and driftwood collected and stacked to dry for the next morning’s fire.

William Dutton was around the small point to the south of the salt fire, gathering driftwood for the final day’s burning. As he pondered how much he was going to enjoy a few days’ respite from the job, he looked up, gazed down the outer banks to the south. He abruptly dropped his load of wood, shook his head as if to clear his mind, rubbed his eyes, looked again. “By the saints in heaven and God o’ mercy! ’Tis a ship, a big ship . . . with three tall masts . . . too far away to see the colors, but . . . but it
must
be the governor. My God! Governor White’s returned!” He turned around, ran a few steps back toward the fire, stopped, frowned; can’t be Governor White. He hasn’t had enough time to reach England, gather supplies, and return. No. Can’t be him. But who cares? ’Tis a ship, mayhap a supply ship. Praise God. He started off at a headlong sprint, rounded the point to where he could see the rest of the salt crew. “A ship! A ship! We’re saved! A ship!”