Rapture in His Arms (27 page)

But first and foremost, she needed to get into Jamestown and speak to the governor. She tied up her horse by a tree and stopped near a woman who was cooking a pot of broth over an open fire. “Could you please point out Mr. Bacon to me?”

The woman looked up from her chore with narrowed eyes. “Now how come you don’t know who General Bacon is, mistress? Where did you come from?” Her gaze suspiciously wandered over Jillian’s clean, gray morning gown. Jillian saw the woman’s dress was covered in grime and torn in places. Apparently the woman had been living a rugged existence for a number of days. “Be you a follower of General Bacon’s or a loyalist?”

“My husband is a follower of the general’s,” Jillian answered and measured her words. “I received word that he is being held prisoner by Governor Berkeley in Jamestown.”

“What’s his name?”

“Donovan Shay.”

The woman’s mouth broke into a warm grin. “Oh, aye, Captain Shay. I know him, my dear. He is a fine man. I hadn’t heard he was captured.”

Jillian didn’t know Donovan was a captain in the militia and was a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. Whatever Donovan put his mind to, he succeeded at it. “Could you please point out General Bacon? I hope he might be able to help me.”

The woman nodded, and she stood up to survey the multitude. Finally, she pointed toward her left. “There up ahead, the gentleman with the feather on his hat. That’s our General Bacon.”

Jillian politely thanked her and rushed toward the man, fearful she might lose him in the busy throng. He strode toward the palisades with long strides as if something beyond his control was pushing him onward. “Sir, General Bacon, sir!” she cried. She disliked calling this man general when clearly he had given himself the title. “May I speak to you?”

At first, she didn’t think he heard her, but slowly he turned around and Jillian was shocked at how sickly the man looked close up. Despite his youth, his ashen complexion overshadowed the slight tan on his face, and his eyes droopily examined her. She noticed too that his hands shook a bit. “What can I do for you, madam?” he answered gallantly, though he seemed to be in a great hurry.

“My husband, Donovan Shay, has been taken prisoner by Sir William. I should like to gain entrance to Jamestown.”

He smiled wanly. “So would I, madam.”

“Is there nothing you can do? Can I not sneak into the town?”

Bacon sighed and did a less than adequate job of hiding his irritation. “Do you see the palisades that the governor has erected, madam? They were put up to keep us out. Otherwise, if it were possible to sneak into the blasted town, I would have done so by now. At any moment I expect Sir William to bombard us with cannon fire, and while my men are valiantly trying to fortify our position by digging a trench with swords and the butts of their muskets, I am here speaking to a woman about gaining entrance to Jamestown You must excuse me if I am unsympathetic to your husband’s plight but at the moment, I can’t help you. Perhaps you should return home.” Bacon bowed lowly, and then he swept away.

Jillian stood with her mouth agape, and anger rose within her. Nathaniel Bacon was an arrogant, pompous man. Edwin had disliked him and with good cause. Yet she understood how a man like Bacon would regard her problem as not very important when his future and that of his followers was about to be determined. But she wouldn’t return home— not until she knew the outcome of this rebellion—not until she could take Donovan home with her.

With a heavy heart, Jillian made her way back to the woman she’d spoken to earlier and tried to make herself useful by cooking and doing small tasks. Yet her eyes and ears were ever alert for a change in the situation.

The woman, whose name she learned was Bonnie Brim, regaled her with tales of her exploits the last few weeks. She’d come looking for her husband when she learned that Bacon had taken Jamestown and stayed there while her husband had followed Bacon into the swamps on Indian raids. Then just as quickly she’d been forced to leave the town after the governor reclaimed it.

“And is your husband here?” Jillian asked her.

“Aye. He’s helping to dig the trench.” Bonnie flushed with pride. “One day I can tell our children how their father helped rid Virginia of tyranny.”

Jillian clenched her teeth to keep from saying anything. She wondered if Bacon might prove more of a tyrant in the long run than Sir William Berkeley.

“But we need more time,” Jillian heard the woman saying to her. “’Tis almost certain that the governor will start shooting soon, and ’tis slow going in digging the trench. I don’t know what’s going to happen. My Leviticus, that’s my husband, he told me that we need more time, and we’re running out of it.”

Jillian felt unable to respond in total sympathy with Bacon’s cause. True, Donovan had been one of Bacon’s men, but Jillian didn’t believe in this fight and thought there would be too many men who would die unnecessarily. Perhaps her own husband had already given his life.

She shook her head and drove the distracting and horrifying thought away. She couldn’t imagine Donovan being dead. If he were dead, she would have sensed his passing, would somehow have felt the loss. She comforted herself with the thought that soon this would all be over, that the governor and Bacon would see the folly of continuing the altercation and would make peace.

After the broth was ready, Jillian helped Bonnie serve the brew to whomever had a mind to sup. Even Jillian fortified herself with a small cup. Afterward, she sat in conversation with Bonnie and some of the other women. Then a young boy came rushing past them. “What’s happening, Willy?” shouted Bonnie, her senses ever alert to the changing scene.

Willy pointed behind him at a cluster of men riding toward them. Before each man sat a woman, and Jillian immediately recognized these women as wives of men who supported Governor Berkeley. Riding past her were the frightened faces of Elizabeth Page, Angelica Bray, Anna Ballard, Frances Thorpe, and Elizabeth Bacon who was the wife of Nathaniel Bacon, Senior, cousin to General Bacon. What were these women doing here? she wondered.

Jillian, like a great number of the people present, followed after the horses and their riders. Leviticus Brim came to stand beside his wife, and Jillian heard part of his conversation with her. “These ladies will give us the time we need to finish our digging. The governor and his men won’t dare attack now.”

Bonnie appeared distressed. “Oh, Levi, do you think this is right? Does General Bacon approve of this?”

“Aye, woman, he does. I don’t know who thought up the idea, but ’tis a fine one, I vouch.”

Jillian caught sight of Otis Marshall in the crowd when he ambled over to where General Bacon waited by the ramparts. The man looked directly at Jillian, and something inside of her churned. He spoke to Bacon, and when Bacon turned in her direction and glanced at her, she knew they were speaking about her. Bacon nodded and called her forward just as the other ladies were helped from the horses.

“This gentleman here,” Bacon tilted his head in Marshall’s direction, “has informed me that you and your husband are well known to Governor Berkeley.”

Jillian wouldn’t lie about her friendship with the governor. It wouldn’t do any good, for many people knew that she and Edwin had been friendly with Berkeley and his wife. “Aye,” she whispered.

“I thought you told me that your husband was injured and lies in Jamestown.”

“He is. His name is Captain Donovan Shay, one of your men.”

“Her first husband, sir, is what I meant,” Otis Marshall piped up. “She is Edwin Cameron’s widow from Cameron’s Hundred. They entertained Berkeley quite often while I worked there. In fact, I used to look after the governor’s horse for him myself when Berkeley visited.”

Bacon stroked his chin in thought. “I see. Well, my dear Mrs. Shay, as much as I dislike the method, the end result is important to me and I shall avail myself of every possible alternative placed in my path. Please join the other ladies near the ramparts and do as you are bid by Mr. Marshall. As you are much younger than they, and also quite brave—otherwise, you wouldn’t have come here in the first place—you can offer them a great service with your steady and calm presence.”

Marshall grabbed her by the arm, but Jillian refused to budge. “I should like an explanation, sir!” she hissed through clenched teeth. “Am I and these ladies under arrest?”

Bacon nodded and looked incredibly tired and ill. “Aye, mistress, but only until the trench is dug. Until my men are finished with their task, you and the ladies will remain standing on the ramparts where Berkeley and his men can plainly view you. These ladies’ husbands are in Jamestown, so no one will fire upon us whilst we complete our work. Now, please,” and here Bacon gestured lowly toward her, “stand with these other women and remain silent.”

The unfairness of this situation and the fear Jillian noted on the women’s faces, and experienced for herself, very nearly caused her to unleash a foul curse upon Nathaniel Bacon. But she thought better of it when she grew aware of the many eyes trained upon her; some faces were openly hostile now that she had been recognized as a friend of Governor Berkeley. Bonnie, however, who had been standing nearby, clasped her hand and smiled comfortingly as Jillian walked past to join the other women on the ramparts.

And there they remained until the trench was completed.

~ ~ ~

“He don’t look so good, does he?” noted Thaddeus Thomas, as he swung open the door to Donovan’s small cell. His companion, a young man called Hiram who had been in the employ of the governor as a watchman only a short time, agreed.

“I think he’s gonna die,” Hiram said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Both men stood at the foot of Donovan’s cot. Every now and then Donovan moaned, but the men had no way of knowing if he even noticed their presence. Thaddeus dipped a cloth into a pitcher of water and after wringing it out, he placed it on Donovan’s forehead. “The man’s burnin’ with fever and will surely die. But I can’t be tendin’ to him day and night, I have to help fight, if Bacon’s men get through.”

“Aye, me, too.” Hiram wiped the back of his hand across his runny nose. “Are you gonna follow Tyler Addison’s instructions and kill him?”

“Quiet, boy! Lower your voice. I don’t want no one to hear about that note Mr. Addison sent to me.” Thaddeus glanced again at Donovan who suddenly had grown very still. He considered Donovan for a long time and then he looked at Hiram, his mind made up. “I ain’t one for killin’ a man, but I can’t see helpin’ this one anymore than I have already. The man’s so sick, he won’t live much longer. So, either way, he’ll be dead, and Mr. Addison will be well rid of him. Come on, I ain’t got time to waste here all night. Let’s go see what’s goin’ on outside. I heard Mr. Bacon planted some ladies on the ramparts to keep our men from shootin’.”

“He’s a wretched fellow to do such an evil thing.”

“Aye, lad, but he’s a crafty one.” Thaddeus and Hiram departed the jail to have a look at the women lining the ramparts.

Donovan stirred and opened his eyes to gaze at the dark ceiling above him. He burned with fever, and he was so weak that he could barely move, but his hearing and senses were intact. And he’d heard that Tyler Addison wanted him dead.

For days, he’d been rotting in this cell, his wound festering and hope dying within him of ever seeing Jillian again. But he’d waited, expecting that word would be sent to her of his imprisonment, that she’d come for him. She hadn’t come, but he sensed that the situation was indeed grave now, so perhaps she couldn’t get into Jamestown. But Tyler Addison had managed to get a note through to try to end his life. And this meant only one thing to Donovan—Tyler wanted him out of the way, so he could have Jillian for himself.

But did Jillian want Tyler?

He would probably never learn the answer to that burning question, because Donovan doubted he’d be alive for much longer. Despite his turmoil, Donovan drifted into an uneasy sleep. A few hours after midnight, his fever rose so high that he had no idea who he was or if he existed at all. He never knew that two men snuck stealthily into the cell and carried him into the darkness to place him in a small skiff in an isolated section of the harbor. He wasn’t aware of the moon and stars above him or even that his head rested on his grandfather’s knees as John Lattimore quietly paddled away from Jamestown.

“We’ve found him, John,” croaked Grayson Chandler with emotion he reserved for those he loved with all of his heart. “At last, we’ve found my grandson. Hurry, let’s get him to Layton’s and I’ll tend the lad back to health.”

John Lattimore didn’t reply optimistically to the duke. After all of the months of searching, they had found Donovan Shay, heir to the Duke of Rockfield, in a stinking jail cell while those outside fought a ragtag rebellion. John sincerely doubted Donovan would live out the week, even with care from the duke and pretty Sabrina Layton. He hoped that the duke would take the loss well.

~ ~ ~

On September 15, Berkeley’s troops ushered forth to meet Bacon’s men, but when Bacon’s men fired upon them, they withdrew into the palisades. When Bacon received word some four days later that the governor and his men had sailed away from Jamestown, Bacon and his men jubilantly rushed inside and claimed it.

Jillian had remained with Bacon’s troops after her ordeal on the ramparts and was none the worse for it. However, what she really wanted was to go to the jail and get Donovan out. But no sooner were she and the other women allowed to enter Jamestown, than the men started torching homes and businesses. Bonnie Brim, who had been a staunch friend to her, explained that a man named Giles Brent was due to arrive with an army and attack Bacon from the south. Thus, if they remained in Jamestown, they would be trapped between Brent’s army and Berkeley’s fleet. Because Bacon didn’t want the governor and his men to occupy Jamestown, the consensus was to burn it. “That’s what Levi told me,” Bonnie confided.

Without wasting any time, Jillian rushed toward the jail but already she was too late. Flames shot high into the sky, illuminating the dark night. The heat was molten hot, but she tried her best to get near the jail, frantic that Donovan was being burned alive. A steely hand pressed down upon her arm and dragged her away from the inferno.