The Mayflower Bride

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The Mayflower Bride Page 8

by Kimberley Woodhouse


  “It’s exciting to me to start something new. To be a part of something bigger than myself.” He couldn’t risk telling her more, could he? “And I must admit that I admire the passion of your group. It’s inspiring—to stand firm on your beliefs.”

  “I am glad that our little congregation can inspire you, Mr ….” A deep voice accompanied a large man in dark breeches and coat. He took several steps and stood next to Mary Elizabeth.

  Where had he come from?

  “Father…I’m so glad you could join us. This is Mr. Lytton and Mr. Alden.” Mary Elizabeth’s cheeks had turned very red.

  William bowed. “Mr. Chapman, it’s an honor to meet you.”

  John bowed as well. “At your service.”

  The man’s stern expression was undecipherable.

  “Father, Father, you won’t believe what we’ve been talking about.”

  David saved the day. “Mr. Alden is a cooper and Mr. Lytton is a carpenter, and they both want to build a boat as big as the ark!”

  Mr. Chapman’s expression softened as he looked down at the lad. “Is that so?”

  “And Mr. Alden says that Mr. Lytton is a master carpenter. The captain even had him build something in his private quarters.”

  “Do you mean Master Jones? Remember, they are only captains when they sail military vessels.”

  “I forgot that part.” David looked back to William and smiled. “Do you think we can see what you built for Mr. Jones?”

  William opened his mouth—

  “We don’t need to take up any more of Mr. Lytton’s time.” The stern look was back on Mr. Chapman’s face. “It was a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.” He bowed.

  So much for William’s conversation with Mary Elizabeth.

  “Thank you, Mr. Alden”—she curtseyed to John—“and Mr. Lytton”—she curtseyed to William—“for helping David with his questions.”

  “But of course.” William bowed, attempting to look as respectful and honorable as possible. He didn’t need a reason for Mr. Chapman to keep Mary Elizabeth away from him. But it appeared as if that may have already happened.

  As the family walked away, John poked William in the ribs. “Did you have a nice chat with Miss Chapman?”

  He couldn’t help the smile that sprang onto his face. “I did. But it wasn’t long enough.”

  “Young David sure is inquisitive.”

  “Weren’t we all at that age?”

  “You’re probably right.”

  William crossed his arms over his chest. “What did you think of her father?”

  “I’ll be honest. He didn’t seem too fond of us, William. But remember, they are proud people. Steadfast in their beliefs. And they’ve been hurt multiple times by people outside of their faith.” He clapped William on the back. “Give it time.”

  “What if he doesn’t give us any chance to have more time together?” The thought made his stomach churn. How had a woman gotten into his heart and mind so swiftly?

  “Then I suggest you pray.” John beamed a smile at him. “A lot.”

  The big boat rocked back and forth under David’s feet. Somehow the sickness had made him feel even smaller. How was he supposed to help out and show Father that he was capable of work if he couldn’t even navigate the deck?

  Mr. Lytton and Mr. Alden sure were nice. Maybe he could ask one of them to take him on as an apprentice. That’s what men did when they wanted to learn a trade. The more he thought about it, the more he’d like to be a carpenter.

  Jesus was a carpenter.

  To him, there couldn’t be a better job. But Mary Elizabeth would probably tell him it was dangerous, that he wasn’t strong enough after being sick. And Father…Well, what if he said no?

  Mr. Lytton was so tall and strong. David wanted to be like him.

  Perhaps a week or two of gaining his strength back would help them all see that David was serious about learning carpentry.

  He would be obedient and help out wherever he could.

  Nodding his head, he knew he had a plan.

  Father would be proud of him. And one day soon, he’d help build them a house in Virginia.

  CHAPTER 8

  Tuesday, 12 September 1620

  Tightening the strings at the neck of her shift, Mary Elizabeth thought about the last few days. Short walks on deck, entertaining David, and Bible reading with her father. Not once had he brought up Mr. Lytton and Mr. Alden. Which was a great relief, even though he hadn’t seemed too happy to meet them.

  William.

  He’d asked her to call him by his Christian name. And while she already thought of him that way in her mind, she knew it wasn’t appropriate until they were better acquainted. Many other young men were aboard the ship, but most of them were sailors with questionable morals and profane mouths.

  Not William. He’d been respectful and courteous. A perfect gentleman.

  A shiver raced up her spine, and she pulled the blanket around her shoulders tighter. She needed to mend one of her sleeves on her dress—not think about Mr. Lytton. Again.

  As she pulled out needle and thread, she focused her thoughts on the task at hand. The constant wear was taking its toll. That and no way to wash clothes. She had one other dress in the trunk that was for Sundays and worship since that was their sacred day. They spent the whole day studying scripture, singing worship to the Lord, and absolutely not working or playing.

  Her other clothing was in the hold with the rest of their belongings.

  Not that she had multiple trunks full of skirts and shirtwaists, but they weren’t poor by any means. Mother always insisted that they look their best—because they represented the Lord.

  The thought made her smile. Her mother had been such a beautiful lady. Mary Elizabeth hoped she would one day be as fine. She’d inherited her mother’s hair, eyes, and coloring. But Elizabeth Chapman had had something else that made her glow.

  Might it have been the love she had for Mary Elizabeth’s father?

  Would Mary Elizabeth have that same glow one day?

  The ship rolled and heaved on the waves and almost knocked her over. She’d learned to stand with her feet apart to give her a sturdier stance, and when she sat on the floor in their tiny quarters, she bent her knees and crossed her feet to give her a stabler foundation. But the wind had kicked up this morning. And not in the direction beneficial for their sails. The sailors called it aback, and Mary Elizabeth knew the term wasn’t good.

  Then the rolling began.

  With more than one hundred people crammed into the gun deck’s small area, families had put up blankets or thin wooden walls to give them privacy. But nothing could take away the sound of retching nor the smell that accompanied it.

  She could only hope that the seas would calm and this turbulence would pass.

  Even Dorothy had succumbed to the seasickness that troubled so many souls aboard today. But her mother hadn’t been well for several days, so Dorothy hadn’t gotten any fresh air for a while.

  Mary Elizabeth needed to remember to check on her friend tomorrow. The Raynsfords might need her help.

  The last stitch in, Mary Elizabeth held the sleeve out to examine it. Not too bad considering the circumstances.

  David’s deep breathing from the corner was music to her ears. Her precious brother slept better each night, for which she was thankful. She should be sleeping as well, but she hadn’t been able to get her mind to obey.

  A snore from her father reminded her that she needed her sleep.

  Tomorrow would be another long day aboard ship. And the day after, and the day after that. Until they reached their destination.

  Snuffing her candle inside the lantern, Mary Elizabeth shifted down onto her mat. Life on board the ships had been different. Sleep was harder to come by because she didn’t labor as much during the day as she had at home. But a weariness also seemed to affect everyone as the days passed. Whether it was the travel, the constant weeks aboard ships, or the lack of fresh air and exercise
—the problem was real.

  Then she also dealt with the pesky problem of reining in her thoughts. Sometimes, it seemed to be more than she could bear.

  Her dreams of marrying one day still held true. But she’d never imagined marrying someone outside their congregation.

  Ever since meeting William Lytton, she couldn’t get him out of her mind. Handsome in his green doublet and breeches, he invaded her thoughts and dreams with his blond hair and blue eyes.

  He was strong and a hard worker, and he seemed to be very respectable.

  But all of his wonderful traits did not change one fact: he was still a Stranger.

  One she didn’t know much about other than that he came from London and Mr. Alden seemed to think highly of him. Even the ship master must, if he’d hired William to build something for him in his personal quarters.

  Father’s stormy expression the day he met William was not encouraging. While she couldn’t read his thoughts, she’d seen that look before, and it didn’t communicate his pleasure.

  So what could she do?

  Her heart longed to see more of William. Was that wrong? Why did she yearn to spend time with him? These feelings were all so new and exciting. And she was normally the stable and calm one. Mary Elizabeth let out a sigh. Dorothy would be thrilled to know that thoughts of Mr. Lytton kept Mary Elizabeth awake at night. Her father on the other hand would be mortified.

  Shoving her face beneath the blankets, she worked to rid her mind of all the spinning thoughts.

  But one question continued to haunt her.

  Did he believe as she did?

  Saturday, 30 September 1620

  The rolling seas they’d endured a few weeks ago were nothing compared to the tumultuous seas the last couple of days. Every time Mary Elizabeth didn’t think it could get worse, the wind raged and churned up the seas around them.

  Many people had battled seasickness from the beginning of their journey, but now almost every passenger aboard had succumbed.

  Father was so sick he didn’t have the strength to lift his head anymore and slept most of the time. David wasn’t sick, but he complained of the awful stench they couldn’t eliminate from the stuffy quarters.

  “Mary Elizabeth?” Dorothy’s voice penetrated the curtain.

  “Come in, Dorothy.” Mary Elizabeth stood as much as she could without hitting her head on the low ceiling and hugged her friend. “You are a wonderful sight to see.”

  “I’m much thinner than I was, but at least I’m not sick all the time. My parents aren’t so fortunate.”

  “I’m sorry. We’ve been taking care of Father, and I should have checked on you.”

  “That’s why I’m here, Mary Elizabeth. A great many people have been in misery for days, with no one to care for them since everyone else is sick. Mr. Jones won’t let anyone up on deck for fear that someone will get washed overboard, and I think the lack of fresh air and inability to see the sky is making matters worse.”

  Mary Elizabeth looked down at Father. He slept. Not unlike the past few days. “I suppose David could look after Father when I’m not here.”

  “I can do it.” David nodded and lifted his shoulders.

  Turning back to Dorothy, Mary Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “Do you think you and I would be able to handle all of the passengers?”

  “I’ve gone to each family’s and person’s quarters. Only three others aren’t sick, but they have several to look after already. Then there’s Elizabeth Hopkins—she looks like she may give birth any day now, and she isn’t faring well. We must try to help. It’s the Christian thing to do.”

  Mary Elizabeth nodded. Her friend was right. “Let’s start now, shall we?” She tied her apron over her skirt and gave instructions to David. “I need you to be strong now and take care of Father.”

  “I told you I can do it, Mary Elizabeth. And when he’s sleeping for long periods, I can help you.” David stood and lifted his chin.

  “Of course you can.” Dorothy chimed in and gave David a hug. She turned back to Mary Elizabeth. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”

  The tone of her friend’s voice reminded her of when someone shared bad news. Breathing deeply, she took Dorothy’s hand. “Please, tell me.”

  “William is very sick. John was taking care of him, but many barrels have been damaged by the rolling of the ship, and he was needed to repair them, so he asked me to check on Mr. Lytton. I’m afraid it’s much worse than seasickness. He has a high fever.”

  The rats had eaten the last of his bread. Right through his sack too. Now he didn’t have anything to eat, and he’d have to fashion a new bag as well.

  Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks. Why was life so hard? Didn’t anybody care?

  “Hey, William. Why are you crying?” The taunting voice belonged to one of the older street boys.

  “I’m not crying.” He sniffed and wiped at his face.

  “Look everyone, little William is crying. He can’t make it on the streets like us. He’s nothing but a baby. A crying little baby.”

  William grabbed his blanket—the only thing he had to call his own and to ward off the cold at night—and ran as fast as his feet would take him. He’d have to find another place to hide. Now that the big boys knew his spot. They always took his spot.

  He had to get far away. He’d have to make it on his own. Could he do it? Yes. He was ten now. Those ruffians couldn’t tell him what to do anymore or steal more of his food.

  William ran until his legs ached. His stomach felt raw. Smells from a local chop house drew him. Maybe he could work for their scraps.

  Looking down at his hands, he tried to wipe off some of the blood and dirt. Would they help him?

  He was so tired of feeling alone and unwanted. So tired …

  “Shhh …” Someone soothed William’s brow. “You’re all right. Just rest.”

  He shook his head back and forth. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Where was he? He wasn’t on the streets of London anymore. Nor was he that lonely, starving boy.

  He fought the arms that held him down. Why couldn’t he get out of here? He had to get to Virginia. Start over.

  Everything burned. Why was it so hot?

  “Lie still.” That voice. He knew that voice. A vision of a red cloak and soothing brown eyes—an angel?

  But exhaustion pulled at him, dragging him back into the depths.

  CHAPTER 9

  Friday, 6 October 1620

  I don’t know what to do for him, Dorothy.” Hot tears streamed down Mary Elizabeth’s cheeks. William’s fever had come down, but he still slept fitfully and mumbled in his sleep. “Every time I check on him, he’s having a nightmare of some sort. He seems so miserable and alone, I can’t bear it.”

  “Have you prayed for him?” Her friend grabbed her hands as they knelt on the floor next to Mr. and Mrs. Raynsford.

  With a nod, she bit her lip. “But I don’t know what to say. I’ve prayed over Father and every person on board that I’ve tried to help. No one seems to be improving.”

  “Well, the seas don’t seem to be improving, so I doubt their sickness will pass until we have some calm days.”

  “Is God even listening?”

  “You know He is, Mary Elizabeth. You’re just tired. When was the last time you slept?”

  The candle’s glow made Dorothy’s brown hair appear almost auburn. She was beautiful and smiling. How did she do it? “It’s been awhile. I fall asleep, but then either the smell gets to me or I hear someone retching and know they probably need my help. Then I think of William and can’t go back to sleep. I hate it that he’s suffering so. Father isn’t doing well, either. David has been such a big help taking care of him, but I can tell he’s wearing out. And I don’t want him to get sick again. He’s too thin as it is.”

  “Why don’t we pray together?” Dorothy squeezed her hands and bowed her head. “Our Father, we come to You now with heavy hearts. We are tired. Many are sick. And we don’t know what
to do other than come to You. In the prophet Isaiah’s book we know that ‘… But they that wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength: they shall lift up the wings, as the eagles: they shall run, & not be weary, & they shall walk and not faint.’ Help us to wait upon You, Lord. Please renew our strength. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”

  Mary Elizabeth felt stronger, but she couldn’t think about herself right now. “Lord, my heart is heavy for William Lytton. Please comfort him in his sleep and bring him peace. And Father God, please help my father grow stronger—along with all the other people suffering from illness. In Jesus’ name we pray, amen.”

  “Amen.” Dorothy released her hands and sat back on her heels.

  “Well, well, well, if it ain’t the little saintly women praying again.” The twisted voice boomed outside the Raynsfords’ quarters.

  Dorothy’s expression clouded over. “That man!” Standing up as much as she could, she grabbed her candle and swept out of the area to confront him. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Coming down here to taunt the sick like you do,” she yelled at her assailant.

  Mary Elizabeth followed Dorothy. The filthy young sailor had taken it upon himself to torment the sick passengers as often as he could. As long as Master Jones wasn’t around. And since so many were sick, the profane man came down way too often. “You aren’t welcome down here. I’ve a mind to go speak to Master Jones about you and the filthy words you speak.”

  Dorothy turned to face her, eyebrows raised.

  While speaking up in courage wasn’t normally something Mary Elizabeth would do, she shrugged. Maybe she was made of sterner stuff than she thought.

  “You’re not allowed top deck, miss.” The man sneered, showing off his dirty teeth.

  “And I’m certain you’re not allowed to harass the passengers of the ship on which you were hired!” Dorothy’s voice edged on a shriek.

  Mary Elizabeth moved forward and tucked Dorothy behind her. “You need to leave now. Or I will speak to Mr. Coppin or Master Jones or whomever I need to speak to about your despicable and insidious behavior.”

 

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