Free Roanoke (The Keepers of the Ring) by Angela Hunt, Angela Elwell Hunt Page B

fifteen years of celibate servitude. Apparently God had a more severe plan in mind for Thomas Colman than the dedication required of a minister. ‘Twas obvious that God wanted him to subject his heart, his eyes, and his physical desires to the tyranny of slavery. He would do it, and gladly, for he deserved no better.
    After the girl ’s scorching rebuke, a few days passed without event. Thomas stayed below deck in the men’s section of the ship, never once allowing his eyes to lift in search of the girl. All was well until God began to test his resolve. William Clement, an occasionally charming bloke who spent most of his time eying the serving women, whispered one afternoon that the fair niece of John White had asked in particular about the Reverend Thomas Colman.
    Thomas found it difficult to remain aloof from Clement ’s taunting suggestion. Of the hundred or more men aboard ship, why would the girl notice him? Was his infatuation for her so obvious that the other men thought to bait him with rumors and false hope?
    But ofttimes on sunny afternoons when the sailors were willing to let passengers above deck, he roamed the ship and felt bright eyes upon him. When he turned suddenly, there she stood, caught in a nervous blush.
    By themselves, these adolescent boy-girl games could not have turned him from his steadfast intention to forget Jocelyn White. But when John White read the letter announcing his brother’s death, the girl exchanged maidenly blushing for the mantle of mourning. Watching from the crowd, Thomas read her grief in the line of her shoulders, in the broken way her head lay on her uncle’s chest, the helpless curl of her hands.
    Still, surely God could not intend for Thomas to fulfill John White ’s secret contract of marriage. So why, then, did his heart yearn to comfort the suffering girl who stood crying at the rail as Portsmouth faded from view?
     
     
    Jocelyn did not know how long she stood at the ship ’s rail, but Portsmouth had long disappeared when she felt a warm hand cover her own. “I know ‘tis not easy for you,” Eleanor said, squeezing her cousin’s hand gently. “I have my husband and father with me.”
    “ ‘Tis not only my father I grieve for,” Jocelyn stuttered, fresh tears springing to her eyes. “But our way of life. My father’s books, my studies—they are all I have known. In truth, Eleanor, I do not know what to expect in this Virginia of yours, and I fear I am not equipped to face it . . .”
    Eleanor smiled and lightened her voice. “I ’faith, we will have everything English, dear coz. We are not going to the wilderness to live as savages, but to build an English colony. We are taking our way of life with us. You will find that in time our City of Raleigh will be as prosperous as London. My father will be the governor, my husband an assistant or at least a justice of the peace.”
    “But—” Jocelyn paused. The question would seem self-centered, but she had to know. “Eleanor, I am not married, nor am I bound to a family as a servant. What will become of me?”
    Eleanor gave her a bright look of eagerness. “I’faith, you’ll live with us, of course, until you want to be married. Think you that you should wither on the vine and misspend your youth? Shame on you, coz. I believe my father will find you a suitable husband, and you will be very happy.”
    For this Jocelyn had no answer. Until her father ’s illness, she had always believed he would arrange a marriage for her with a man much like himself. Her chosen husband would have been a teacher or a writer, and after their marriage she would have lived with two men with whom she would share reading and laughter, discussions and opinions. In the course of a fortnight, however, that domestic vision had vanished and she had nothing but fear with which to replace it.
    Eleanor patted Jocelyn ’s hand again, then pressed her palms against her expanding stomach. “Only God knows what will become of all of