Riverbreeze: Part 3 (41 page)

“I see. That would be fine. Is he able to come here or should I go to him?”

“He is able to see you here in the house.” And in fact, as soon as Robert said that, the sound of the back door opening and closing reached them in the parlor. And then the man himself was heard to say, ‘Is supper ready yet?”

Robert grinned wryly. “Speak of the devil! Will you join us for supper, governor? The meal won’t be anything fancy, just a stew, but I promise there will be plenty for all and it will be good.”

“I’d love to.” Berkeley said. “Thank you.”

Jamie escorted Berkeley to the kitchen while Robert went upstairs to fetch Robin from his nap with the twins. The twins didn’t leave their beds for supper; Abigail would bring them their meals after everyone else was served. She, herself, would eat with the girls, feeling more comfortable with them rather than with a room full of men.

The stew and bread were delicious, as Robert knew it would be; the governor and his lucky servants ate more than their share while Robert picked at his food and stewed over his predicament. The governor could still have him arrested and put in jail and he would just have to wait for his trial to plead not guilty. It was frustrating; it was impractical because he already knew he would be set free either way, self-defense or benefit of clergy; and it was completely unfair! Wesley had come to this colony with the sole purpose of attacking him and Jamie; he had planned it, gone over and over it in his mind with his accomplice, that son of Satan Burnett. Burnett had gotten away with murdering Beatrice Warren—even if he was dead now and in Hell where he belonged—so why should Robert have to stand trial for killing a man in self-defense?

Because that was the law and the governor was a man of honor, virtue and maintaining order. He expected that same behavior from all his citizens.

So Robert had to sit through dinner, suffering through an hour of small talk; then he and Jamie went back to the field while Berkeley questioned Burcher. “I can’t stand this!” Robert said as he threw a handful of seeds on the ground.

“Waste not the seeds like that!” Jamie scolded him. Then he softened. “I know, but I’m sure once he speaks to Billy, he’ll dismiss the case.”

“We’ll see.” Robert said, not particularly optimistic.

But in the end, Jamie was right. After the governor took two hours to question Burcher, Robert was called back to the house.

Naturally Jamie accompanied him.

The governor was waiting for them in the parlor, alone. Burcher had returned to the small house.

“Sit down, you two.” Berkeley began.

Robert and Jamie both sat, feeling like children. Robert’s heart pounded.

“Mr. Burcher is a very interesting man, living alone in the woods, trading with the savages…legally, I might add. He has suffered much in his life, his burned neck and face, and now the injury to his leg. A man needs two good legs to survive in this land.”

Yes, yes, so what! Go on; go on
, Robert thought, starting to fidget. Jamie gently touched his knee. Robert stopped.

“He explained everything to me; how your brother and Mr. Burnett showed up on his doorstep with two Pumunkeys needing shelter and a place for Burnett to recuperate from the arrow wound to his arm. They explained how they didn’t want to take the time to travel to Jamestown for medical treatment and Burnett said that he wouldn’t be welcome in town anyway, which is correct as I know him to be a filthy Puritan…” The governor practically spat these words out. Everyone knew of Berkeley’s negative feelings towards Puritans; in fact, last year he got an act passed to preserve the Established Church’s unity and purity of doctrine, and if a Puritan tried to settle in the colony, Berkeley threw them out, so Robert understood why Burnett wouldn’t want to go to Jamestown for treatment. “Burcher told me he tried to clean the wound and treat it, but over the next weeks it became inflamed and eventually Burnett died on the day Wesley showed up with a bound and gagged Elizabeth, actually.”

“So, you believe me now.” Robert said.

“Yes. I didn’t disbelieve you before, but I had to make sure. Burcher told me how Elizabeth miscarried that evening and how he cared for her despite Wesley’s threats to harm him. He also told me that he was very sorry he couldn’t do more to help her. He wished he could have snuck her out of the cabin that night and brought her to the Archer’s, but Wesley had tied him up.”

“Yes, he told us that too.” Robert said.

“So, I have come to my decision. I’m letting you go, Robert. I see no reason to bring up any charges against you. You are free.”

Robert almost couldn’t believe his ears. He wanted to jump for joy. He started to smile; his heart soared. He had been so worried and now he was free. He stood up, grabbed the governor’s hand and clasped it tightly. “Thank you, Sir William. Thank you so much. I am ever so grateful.”

Jamie also profusely thanked the governor.

The governor turned stern again. “Now, I don’t want to ever hear about a situation like this again. I don’t want to hear if you’re in trouble; I don’t ever want to see you in my court. Do you understand, both of you?” He looked the brothers in the eye.

“Yes, sir.” They said in unison, almost as if they were children again and facing their father.

“Good. Now, let’s celebrate. Do you have any brandy?” The governor asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do, saved especially for occasions like this.” Robert said, smiling.

He excused himself and ran down to the cellar, feeling like he could fly. He was truly free, free from Wesley and free from any charges against him. He grabbed the bottle off the shelf—it was a bottle of peach brandy that he had gotten from Francis on his 21st birthday, a mere five months ago. Half the contents remained.

He brought it back upstairs, went into the kitchen to fetch cups and returned to the parlor in short order. He poured the three of them each a small drink; Jamie said a toast; they clicked cups and then they drank. One drink; two drinks; three. And for that short hour in the midst of all their troubles, Robert and Jamie could finally celebrate. Hurrah! Wesley was gone from their lives forever.

Chapter Fifty-One: Recovery

It was the worst time of her life. For the next several weeks after Elizabeth’s abduction and miscarriage, while everyone else went back to their normal routine, she fell into a deep depression and couldn’t shake herself out of it. While growing up, she had been prone to small bouts of depression, but she had always been able to come out of them after a day or two. This episode was quite different.

She cried; she sobbed; she whimpered in her sleep. She had nightmares and woke up screaming, waking up the entire house and scaring poor Robin to death. Abigail made her drink chamomile tea, sometimes with a drop of poppy syrup in it to gently sedate her. Robert was distraught with worry and even his good news of his acquittal didn’t seem to lessen her depression. She was happy about it, of course, but that was only a fleeting moment in the midst of this gloomy, melancholic state.

Even Evelyn couldn’t console her enough. For the first week after the incident, Evelyn had stayed in bed with Elizabeth since she, herself, needed to recuperate from her own miscarriage. Together they mourned their lost babies, but soon their young, healthy bodies healed with help from Abigail’s decoctions, but Elizabeth still didn’t want to get out of bed.

Evelyn, on the other hand, was ready to resume her life. After a week’s recuperation, she deemed herself healthy and fit, got up, washed herself all over, got dressed and told Elizabeth, “’Tis time I return to my daily life.”

Elizabeth nearly had a fit. “Please do not leave me.” She cried.

“I’m sorry, Bess, but I can’t stay with you any longer. I feel fine now, and I believe you do too. Our bleeding has nearly stopped and there is no reason to remain abed.” Evelyn said, holding Elizabeth’s hands.

“I know not what is wrong with me.” Elizabeth said, tears streaming down her face. “All I want to do is cry.”

“I know. Sometimes I still feel like crying too, but I know that Jamie and I will have other children and that thought comforts me. Try to remember that; you’ll have other children too.” Evelyn said, wiping Elizabeth’s tears with a freshly washed handkerchief. Elizabeth nodded, sniffling. Evelyn continued, “Now, I won’t be far, only downstairs if you should need me.”

“I need you now!” Elizabeth cried, clutching her sister’s hands. She felt panicked at the thought of Evelyn leaving her.

Evelyn firmly detached her hands from Elizabeth’s. “Bess…” She said sternly. “I love you, and I would like to stay with you, but I have a husband now who needs me, and you have a husband and a child who needs you. We must return to our lives.”

“I cannot!” Elizabeth sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I must go.” Evelyn said, near tears herself; however, she turned her back on her sister and walked determinedly out of the bedchamber.

Elizabeth cried for another hour after that. She hated her sister; she hated what had happened to her; she hated her life here in this godforsaken country. Why did her father have to commit suicide and leave her parentless and homeless? Why did he send her here to be married to a complete stranger and live like poor dirt farmers? Why couldn’t her sister be more sympathetic? Dear Lord, why was she feeling like this?

That afternoon, much to her surprise, Robert brought her the midday meal. She was expecting Evelyn or Abigail or perhaps nobody at all. It would have been like Evelyn to force her to get out of bed by starving her.

He entered the room, carrying a tray with a cloth draped over the contents so she couldn’t see exactly what was on it. He also had a deer hide draped over his shoulder. That was odd, she thought.

He was quite cheerful as he greeted her, a little bit too cheery, in her opinion.

She frowned and put down the book she was reading, ‘The English Housewife’. She had been looking for a receipt for her kind of melancholy. There were lots of recipes; for the itch, a pimpled face, for piles or haemorrhoids, a poultice for sore breasts, for the flux, but nothing for melancholia. “I thought Evelyn might not allow you to bring me supper.” She grumbled.

He chuckled a little. “Oh, she tried to stop me, all right. However, I couldn’t let my wife starve, could I?” He winked at her as he stood at the side of the bed, ready to place the tray on her lap. “May I set this down?”

“Oh, stop being so merry.” She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away.

“All right. If that’s the way you want it.” He said, testily.

“No, it’s not the way I want it!” She cried, burying her face in the pillow. “But that’s the way I feel.” And she succumbed to another crying fit.

He must have put the tray down somewhere, because all of a sudden he was beside her, gathering her into his arms. “Elizabeth, I hate to see you like this.” He said softly, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. “I wish I could take away all your pain. I wish I could take us back in time before all these horrible things happened. But I can’t, and I feel so helpless.”

She sensed his anguish. She was causing him so much pain, but it was unintended and she couldn’t help herself. Sniffling and rubbing her face on his shoulder, she whispered, “I do too.”

“What can I do to help you?” He asked softly.

Slowly she pulled back and looked at his face, so full of love and concern. He had tears in his eyes.

She touched the corner of his eye where a tear hovered. “Why are you so different from your brother? Why was he so mean?”

He looked thoughtful for a minute. “I believe he was born that way; and the manner in which he was raised might have contributed to his wickedness. He was twelve years old when I was born and fourteen when Jamie was born. For those first twelve years of his life he was coddled and pampered and spoiled, first by his mother and then by our father when Wesley’s mother died when he was ten. He was the heir, you know, and he was treasured. It must have been a complete shock to him when my father married my mother and I was born a short ten months later, and then Jamie came along two years after that. Suddenly he wasn’t the only child any more—the darling baby—“ His mouth twisted into a wry smile, “and he was expected to grow up and be a man. He was sent away to boarding school against his wishes and when he returned three years later, he wasn’t the center of attention anymore.”