Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [109]
“Alice, Betty, wait!” I pleaded. “What if John White has come to take Virginia away with him? I can’t let her go.”
“He has no doubt learned of Eleanor’s death. After coming all this way, he deserves to see that his granddaughter lives,” said Betty gently. “You cannot deny him that.”
She was right. And so with hesitant steps I led Virginia to the outskirts of the village, where we waited to be certain it was safe to enter. I saw John White sitting on a stool near Weyawinga’s canopy, looking old and defeated. His companion was acting like someone of importance, though he was rudely clothed. He remonstrated with Graham and the others, demanding something they would not give him. As he looked back and forth, his long hair flew from side to side. His face was bearded and he wore a silver earring. Indeed, he resembled nothing so much as the pirates I had seen on the wharves in London and Portsmouth. Presently he dashed from the scene, and I ventured forth, carrying John White’s granddaughter.
When he saw me, Manteo looked alarmed. He glanced over his shoulder at the departing figure and moved closer as if to protect me. I wondered if there were some danger I could not see, even as I felt the familiar pleasure of his nearness.
John White looked up at me with his eyebrows raised. I was startled by his appeareance. The last three years had whitened his hair and stolen much flesh from his bones. Eleanor would have rushed to feed him.
“Good day, Governor White, and welcome,” I said.
“Lady Catherine. I, too, would know you anywhere,” he replied.
Those were strange words of greeting, I thought. Was his mind broken from grief? I turned the child in my arms so he could see her.
“Is it Virginia Dare? My Virginia?” he whispered. Tears glistened in his eyes.
No, she is mine. My dear one. But I nodded and set the child on his lap for him to hold. If he takes Virginia away, I must go too, for I promised Eleanor I would take care of her.
White held his granddaughter as if she were made of glass and kissed her head. “Ah, Virginia. You’ve never known any world but this one for which you are named.”
The child began to wriggle and fret. Did she sense he meant to take her away? She held out her arms to me. “You hold me, Mama Cate.”
“In a minute, dear heart,” I said, holding myself back with difficulty. “This is your grandpapa, who has not seen you since you were born.” My voice caught as I remembered how afraid I had been of Eleanor dying in childbirth. That was before our troubles began in earnest: before disease and starvation; before the cruel hanging, Betty Vickers’s banishment, and my own captivity; before Ananias was killed by Indians and Eleanor by a fever; before our exodus from Fort Ralegh more than a year ago. How much this hardy child and I had survived together!
“I am sorry about Eleanor,” I said, old guilt pressing against my ribs.
White sighed heavily. “I tried many times to return. I wanted nothing more than to grow old in this New World with my family.” He tilted Virginia’s head so he could see her face. “Her eyes are like her mother’s.”
Then he stood up and handed me the child. Virginia wrapped her hands around my neck and her feet around my waist, holding on like an opossum clinging to a branch.
“Now it is enough for me to know my daughter’s daughter will live out her life here,” he said. “If you choose to remain, she must stay with you.”
“Thank you!” My breath rushed out and I embraced him, the child between us. I felt I had been given a gift more valuable than any trinket from the queen, any nickname or words of praise, a treasure worth more than a hundred baskets of pearls.
But then John White made my complete little world quake and quiver.
“Leave the child with me for a moment, and go that way.” He pointed to the seaward side of the island. “Sir Walter searches for you.”
At first I could not comprehend his words. The pirate I had seen with John White bore no resemblance to Ralegh. I wondered if the governor had fallen in with brigands and was now engaged in their deceptions.