The Mayflower Bride Page 3

  “David is thrilled, to be sure.” Mary Elizabeth looked back to the water. She really must swallow this doubt and fear. Far better to grab hold of the thrill and joy she saw on her friend’s features.

  Dorothy laid a hand on Mary Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I’ve been praying for you. I know this isn’t easy, leaving your dear mother behind and all.”

  All Mary Elizabeth could manage was a nod as an image of the cemetery flitted through her mind.

  The gravestone with her mother’s name—Elizabeth Chapman—denoted the all-too-short span of the beloved woman’s life. It would lay bare now. No flowers. No one to visit.

  Even though Mother’s memory resided in Mary Elizabeth’s heart and mind, leaving behind the grave—the place she visited weekly to pour out her heart and soul—hurt more than the loss of any other physical object in Holland.

  “Here.” Her friend offered a brown-paper-wrapped package. “I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I couldn’t wait.”

  Mary Elizabeth smiled and took her time unwrapping the gift. The brown paper could be saved and used again, and they wouldn’t have access to such frivolities—or anything of the sort—for quite some time. As she turned it over in her hands, she found a deep brown leather book with a leather string tied around it. There weren’t any words on the cover or spine. “What is it?”

  “It’s blank pages. For you to write down your thoughts. I thought it would help since you won’t be able to visit your mother’s grave anymore.”

  Tears sprang to Mary Elizabeth’s eyes. Only Dorothy knew her heart and the lengthy visits to the cemetery and what she did there. She clutched the treasure to her chest. “This must have cost you a small fortune.” Paper wasn’t a commodity most could afford. Mary Elizabeth looked back down at the precious book. “Thank you so much.” The words seemed all too inadequate.

  “I know you have a quill and pots of ink with you since I helped pack them”—Dorothy laughed as she patted Mary Elizabeth’s arm—“and once we have a settlement and regular shipments coming in, you might want to write even more. You’ve always had a talent for stringing beautiful phrases together.”

  Tears flowed down Mary Elizabeth’s face. She didn’t even want to wipe them away. What a treasure. Not just the book, but the friend.

  Dorothy bounced on her toes. “I will be with you, dear Mary Elizabeth. Through every step of this new journey.”

  Mary Elizabeth smiled through her tears. “I know you will, and I’m very grateful, I am. The journey will just take some getting used to.”

  “Well, don’t take too long. Adventure awaits!” Dorothy’s arms stretched out, and she spun around. Her friend’s eagerness for the unknown made Mary Elizabeth laugh and wipe the tears off her face.

  Mary Elizabeth folded up the brown paper and tucked it into her cloak. God had truly blessed her. With a wonderful family and a delightful friend. She could do this.

  Courage. Her prayer from before sprang back to her mind.

  The pounding of boots behind them made Mary Elizabeth turn and wrap her cloak around her tighter. The sailors weren’t the most gentlemanly of sorts.

  The ship master emerged from the group and looked straight at them. The weathered man always appeared tense and stern, but today another expression hid behind his eyes. Was it fear? “Go get your men. We need all able-bodied hands on deck. Including the women and children.”

  Mary Elizabeth nodded and moved to do the ship master’s bidding.

  But Dorothy tugged on Mary Elizabeth’s cloak and stopped. “What’s happened, Mr. Reynolds?”

  Seeing the other sailors’ grim expressions, Mary Elizabeth felt a knot grow in her stomach. She faced the man in charge.

  Mr. Reynolds’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he clasped his hands behind his back as he glanced out to the water and then back to Mary Elizabeth and Dorothy. The severe expression grew dim. “It’s not the best etiquette to speak to women of such calamity, but since you will carry the message below and there’s not a lot of time, I feel it’s best to be honest.” He took a deep breath. “The ship’s been leaking for some time now, and we’re taking on a good deal of water. It is far worse than I suspected. If we don’t do something about it, we’ll sink before we ever reach Southampton.”

  Tuesday, 1 August 1620

  Southampton, England

  William Lytton lifted the last crate and his satchel of tools and readied to walk up the gangway of the Mayflower one more time. His leg muscles burned from the numerous trips up the steep, narrow walkway, but it was worth it.

  The New World.

  For years, he’d longed for change—a fresh start. The opportunity before him now presented all his dreams in one nice package. And the Mayflower would take him there.

  If he could just make it through the weeks at sea, he’d be fine. They would all have to start with nothing. They would have to build or create everything with their own hands. They would be far away from everyone and everything they’d ever known. That was fine. Making a new life took hard work and sacrifice.

  He was ready.

  In a matter of weeks, he’d be standing on shores across the vast ocean—literally on the other side of the world. The thought made him smile. He might be an orphan, devoid of family or anyone who cared about him, and unworthy of English society’s approval, but he was done with all of that. In this new land, in a new settlement, he could be someone else entirely.

  A hand on his shoulder made him start and lose his grip on the crate, but he caught it with his knee. The man standing there didn’t look like a thief.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, and I don’t wish to startle you, but I have a proposition.” The more closely William observed, the more he noted why the man’s appearance exuded wealth. A shimmer of gold on the man’s right hand didn’t escape his notice. Only the wealthy donned such adornments.

  William nodded. “Sir. Let me set my burden down, and we can discuss whatever is on your mind.”

  The man glanced around and moved to sit on another crate. As he reached into the pocket of his vest, the embroidery on the man’s sleeves caught William’s attention. The man must be rich indeed.

  The mysterious stranger cleared his throat. “Are you William Lytton?”

  Who was this man? The ring and clothing reminded William of royalty, but he’d had little experience with the upper classes, much less royals. “Yes, sir. I am.”

  The man smiled and motioned for William to move his crate closer. “I don’t wish to take a lot of time, nor do I wish to be overheard, so I’ll be brief. I’m with the Virginia Company and am also one of the Merchants and Adventurers. You may know that we have heavily invested in all who will be journeying with you to the New World.”

  It was no secret. The Merchants and Adventurers provided the monetary backing for the trip, and the Planters were the travelers to the New World. Every Planter over the age of sixteen received one share, while the Adventurers could invest and buy as many shares as they wanted. Once all the debts were paid in seven years, the profits would be divided by those shares. A rush of thankfulness hit William’s chest. He had two shares when most Planters only had one. “Yes, sir. I am aware.”

  The man leaned closer, his voice hushed. “We need to hire a man with integrity to keep records for us.”

  William felt his brows raise but attempted to keep a plain expression. “Records? What kind of records?”

  The man coughed into his fist as another sailor ran up the gangway. When the young man was past, he continued. “A journal of sorts recording all the comings, goings, workings, business—all that takes place at the new settlement. The ten-point agreement we have with you all, the Planters, is to come to fruition in seven years. While seven years seems like it can go by quickly, it is a good length of time, and the New World is a great distance away. We don’t have a man available who can pick up and leave his life and family here, so we thought it prudent to find someone who would be a part of the new colony to help us ou
t. Your name was given to me as a recommendation. We wish to see this venture succeed with the utmost honesty and respect.”

  Respect. If he’d learned nothing else, William had learned the importance of respect in business matters. As for honesty and integrity? Well, as far as he was concerned, there was no other way to act. And it gave him a boost in his confidence to learn that someone had recommended him. He lifted his shoulders and nodded. “How may I help?”

  “We would obviously compensate you for your time—as I said, we are seeking to hire someone.” The man held a small velvet pouch and a leather book out to William. “This would be your first payment. We will send a messenger down on the Fortune next year with another hefty sum. After we have reviewed your report and see how the settlement is doing, there will be additional duties and payments. The book is for your record keeping. Details and exact quantities are important. While we will be receiving the wood, salted fish, and other goods made by the Planters to sell, we need to know that they are abiding by the agreement. Four days’ work for us. Two for themselves. We believe them all to be honest people, but we also know many who are going are not a part of the Separatist’s congregation and do not abide by the same strict moral laws.

  “In essence, you will be our representative there, but we don’t want to alarm anyone or create any chaos by making that fact known. Far better to keep this information…among those who need to know it. Just until the colony is well under way, you understand. Then we may have a higher position there for you since you will have gained everyone’s trust.”

  William took the book and then the bag, a bit startled at the weight of it. The man’s logic was sound. Everyone would have to work together if they were to build a lasting colony and survive. He could handle another job like this if it was just keeping records. It was honest. Even if it was a bit secretive. The extra money would definitely help.

  Decision made, he nodded. “I would be honored to assist you, sir, the Virginia Company, and the Adventurers.”

  “Thank you, William.” The man stood and turned on his heel. “I will be in touch.”

  William launched himself at the man and tugged at his cape. “How did you know my name, sir, as I do not know yours?”

  The man’s face softened with a slight smile. “Your master was a close friend. He spoke highly of you and often.” He straightened and nodded at William. “As for me, you may call me Mr. Crawford.”

  As Crawford walked away, a tiny pang of grief hit William’s chest. His master. The only kind person William had ever known. Twenty years ago, he’d been abandoned as a baby and left on a family member’s doorstep. They’d barely clothed him and fed him occasionally. But he would have taken those conditions over what happened next. At the tender age of nine, he’d been kicked out and told to find his own way.

  Many other orphans his age had been out on the streets, but William soon learned to work as many odd jobs as possible so he could put bread in his stomach.

  Then one day—after years of misery, filth, and almost starvation—this man appeared. His master, Paul Brookshire. The man who’d taken him in at thirteen, taught him the valuable trade of carpentry, and given him hope for life. The man who’d loved him like a son for seven wonderful years when no one else wanted him. The man who bought an extra share for William—costing almost an entire year’s worth of earnings—before he made his apprentice promise to make the most of his life, throw off the baggage of the past, and seek God.

  William never had much of a use for God. The thought of a loving heavenly Father was foreign to a boy orphaned and shown contempt in the streets of London. But his master? He’d started to change William’s mind.

  Questions he’d longed to ask would go unanswered. Alas, his master died.

  William had cared for the man until he took his last breath and had kept up with all the orders for their shop by working into the night. The day he buried Paul—his master and friend—was the hardest day of his life. Harder than living with a family that did nothing but show him contempt. Harder than living on the streets of London. Because he’d lost the only person who ever cared—the one who had…loved him.

  If he were to be honest, no one else knew William—not even his customers—because he’d never given anyone else a chance.

  A scuffle on deck of the ship made William look back toward the gangway. He shook his head. These thoughts were best left for a later time. He had work to do and a long journey ahead.

  Tucking the bag inside his shirt, William breathed deeply. The grief that often hit in waves needed to be tucked down into his heart, away from probing eyes.

  William Lytton was on a journey to a new life. The old had to be left behind.

  CHAPTER 2

  Peter watched Mr. Crawford walk away from that lousy carpenter. Anger bubbled up in his gut. That should have been his job—his money. As he’d followed Crawford to the dock this morning, his hopes were that all the pieces were falling into place. Apparently, he hadn’t thought through the fact that they might hire someone else. All the times he’d gotten an invitation to meetings or gatherings, all the times he’d spoken to Crawford and offered to help the venture in any way that he could. His cousin had told him he’d made a good impression. Not that it did any good. Not now.

  Venturing forth from his hiding place behind a large crate, he squinted toward William Lytton. Why had the Merchants and Adventurers chosen a carpenter, of all people? What did he know about business dealings?

  All the work Peter had done to get a look at the contracts and plan for this were now for naught. His piddly savings were depleted. He’d counted on getting hired for the endeavor ever since his cousin had told him about the plan. Now he was stuck going to the New World with no foreseeable income.

  His dreams of being established as a respectable and honored person in the new colony were dashed.

  Unless…

  He tilted his head and let the thoughts grow into fullness. It wasn’t the craziest idea. Maybe it would work.

  Maybe there was another way to earn trust—and to obtain the job he desired.

  Saturday, 5 August 1620

  Southampton, England

  After more than a week of repairs dockside to reinforce the patching done at sea, the master of the Speedwell declared her seaworthy once again. While several of the crew had left the ship as their ship master released them during the repair work, all of Mary Elizabeth’s congregation stayed on board. Not wishing to risk any mishap or reason for the King to change his mind, the elders had thought it best to stay out of sight.

  But now as they left the port, Mary Elizabeth longed to stand on dry ground rather than on the deck of this ship. This very small ship—where the confining spaces threatened to trap her. Panic rose in her throat. She did her best to swallow it down, but it reached prickly fingers into her mind.

  Would this be the last time she’d see land? What if they didn’t make it to the New World? What if they got lost and ran out of supplies?

  Shifting her gaze to the north, she forced her thoughts elsewhere. Across a small expanse of sea, the Mayflower’s crew worked her sails as the ship cut through the water beside them. The ship was much larger than the Speedwell and carried the rest of their supplies for the New World as well as many other colonists.

  It was wondrous to behold and gave her a calming thought. They wouldn’t be journeying alone. The panic subsided a bit.

  But a sense of foreboding replaced it in full force.

  “Good morning, Mary Elizabeth.” Dorothy’s voice pierced through the black fog threatening to overtake her.

  Mary Elizabeth took a breath and then another. “Good morning.” The smell of fish and salty sea air filled her senses.

  Dorothy came alongside her and grabbed her arm. “What’s wrong? You’re whiter than the sails.”

  Shaking her head, Mary Elizabeth closed her eyes. “It’s nothing. I just had a wee bit of fear as we left.”

  “It doesn’t look like it’s ‘nothing.’�
�� Dorothy placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows. “I’ve a good mind to go get your father.”

  “No. Please.” Mary Elizabeth raised a hand in protest. “He doesn’t need anything else to worry about. Besides, he’s too busy with plans and meetings with the elders. I’m very well. I just need to breathe through it.” Maybe her facade of bravery would appease her friend. But the niggle of fear that something bad would happen made her heart race. What had come over her?

  “You may try and fool me, Mary Elizabeth Chapman, but I can see you are struggling.” Dorothy grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Why don’t we recite the Twenty-Third Psalm together?”

  Mary Elizabeth nodded and kept trying to breathe, but the shallow breaths weren’t giving her enough air. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. After all she’d overcome. But the deep sense of foreboding wouldn’t leave her. Why?

  Courage, she just needed courage. Why was that her constant prayer now? And why was she so weak when everyone else around her appeared to be strong?

  Dorothy started quoting from the scripture, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”

  Mary Elizabeth let the words flow over her. She inhaled deeper and joined in the recitation. “He maketh me to rest in green pastures, & leadeth me by the still waters.” Breathing came easier. In. Out. In. Out.

  “He restoreth my soul, & leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his Name’s sake.

  “Yea, though I should walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me: thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.” Mary Elizabeth’s voice grew stronger with every word.

  “Thou doest prepare a table before me in the sight of mine adversaries. Thou doest anoint mine head with oil, & my cup runneth over.” Her breaths calmed to a regular pace.

  “Doubtless kindness & mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, & I shall remain a long season in the house of the Lord.”