Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [108]
“England has abandoned us, while the Croatoan have welcomed us,” said Graham. “I have taken a wife here, who is about to bear me a son, God willing.”
I stared at him, ashamed on his behalf, but I reasoned it would take a holy man indeed to resist a half-clothed woman.
“Where are the women—if any of them remain?” I asked. Graham said they had hidden themselves for safety, along with the children.
“Do they dress like savages, too?” I asked, distaste battling with desire at the thought of my Catherine wearing skins, her long hair falling over her shoulders. I had dreamed such a scene once, so lifelike that it roused me from sleep. Was it possible such a dream might now be realized?
“Are there any small children?” asked John White.
“Your granddaughter is well,” said Vickers. “She is being raised by Lady Cate.”
“Lady Catherine Archer?” I heard my voice rise with hope.
“She is Cate now,” said Graham coldly. “She is much changed.”
“I would know her anywhere. Tell me where she waits.”
But Graham would not reply. I glanced around, hoping to spy where she was hiding. My gaze fell on Manteo, who stood with all his muscles tense, like a lynx about to leap.
Then I knew with a bitter certainty the reason why Catherine hid herself from me. It was a blow I had not foreseen, yet one I deserved.
“Has she found a husband then?” I asked, trying to sound careless.
“No.” Manteo’s simple denial was sharp with warning.
Yet my hopes soared again. Catherine had no one to bind her to this place. She had kept herself free and waited for me.
“Then I will find her,” I said.
Chapter 42
Cate’s Choice
When it was clear the Englishmen would come ashore, Weyawinga sent the women and children into the woods about a mile from the village. No palisade or fort could provide better cover than the groves of trees and thick bushes, and there we hid. Some of us were armed, should it become necessary to protect the others. I carried a bow and arrows, which Manteo had taught me to use, although I did not relish using them to shoot a man. Alice had a pistol and the Croatoan women had knives.
Betty would not carry a weapon. “I trust God to defend me,” she said.
Mika kept the children calm by singing quietly to them. Her belly was visibly round, and I wondered whether her babe would resemble her or Graham. Takiwa, unafraid, had stayed in the village. We waited for hours, expecting to hear the crack of musket fire and war whoops, but the only sounds were the wind in the trees, small creatures in the underbrush, and birdsong. Then a breathless Takiwa came running and said a single boat had landed and its two passengers were talking with Weyawinga.
I was relieved there would be no bloodshed, but somewhat bewildered. “Who are the two men?” I asked her.
“One, Manteo says, is the English governor.”
“It must be John White!” I said. “And who is the other?” I asked Takiwa.
She shrugged. “He is not clothed like a man of any importance.”
“There is no danger, so let’s go back,” said Alice. “I want to hear the news from England—how the queen fares, whether there has been war with Spain, what the ladies are wearing now.” Her eyes shone with excitement.
I, too, was full of questions. Was Emme still in the queen’s favor? Was she married yet? And Frances, had she been rewarded for her spying? Did the queen, who once said she would be like my mother, ever speak of me? John White could not satisfy me on these matters, but surely he could answer one question that still tugged at my vanity: Had Sir Walter forgotten me?
“Yes, we must welcome John White,” I said, taking Virginia’s hand.
Betty and Alice and her boy rose to follow me, but Joan Mannering held back.
“Nay, I am ashamed to be seen by an outsider,” she said. “At my age, to be dressed in this manner?”
“Our breasts are covered, and our loins, with cloth and skins. Eve wore far less,” said Betty.
“Yes, and Eve had reason to be ashamed,” said Joan, unpersuaded. She chose to stay with the Croatoan women until Weyawinga summoned them back.
As we neared the