Chapter Fifteen #3
Fortune turned back to the house, unable to see them ride out of sight.
Mama would not be back for a week or more.
She was virtually alone, but for her good Rois.
“I hate this,” Fortune muttered to herself, and then called to her maidservant to keep her company.
She expected that Rois was no happier than she was with this situation.
Rois came, redeyed from weeping. “Don’t cry, or I’ll cry too,” Fortune said. “I’m just as sad as you are, Rois.”
“They had to go, I know,” Rois sniffled. “Kevin says if we’re to have a future we must own our own land, and we can’t in Ulster. Still, why now? Now when I’m expecting our first bairn!” Then she began to cry again.
“You’re having a baby too?” Fortune wondered why she was so surprised. “When?”
“A wee bit after you, m’lady,” Rois admitted.
“Does Kevin know?” Fortune asked her servant.
Rois shook her head. “I was afraid to tell him lest he not go, and he was so intent upon it I didn’t want to spoil his chances.”
Fortune began to laugh. It was all so absurd.
She had married the wrong brother because she loved him, lost her dowry in the process, and now was left behind enceinte with an enceinte serving woman while their husbands went off to seek their destiny.
If this scenario had been presented to her two years ago she would have scorned such a fate for the practical and sensible Lady Fortune Mary Lindley.
“Well, Rois,” she said, “I think we have no other choice but to hope our men have great success in their endeavors. We’ll keep each other company while our bairns ripen.
Can you knit? I’ve never learned how, but I can sew a very fine seam.
Let’s make our babies some wee gowns. ‘Tis as good a way as any I can think of to keep ourselves occupied.”
Young Mistress Bramwell, the assistant housekeeper, went to the storerooms and brought back some lovely cambric and the sewing supplies that they would need.
There were even old paper patterns from which they could cut the infant garments.
Rohana came to help them for she had not gone with her mistress.
For the next week they spent their days cutting and sewing.
Baby Autumn came, and crawled about their feet, playing with the scraps of material that fell to the floor.
Eight days after she had departed Queen’s Malvern Jasmine returned with her escort of Glenkirk men-at-arms. “They’ve sailed for Ireland,” she said.
“The wind was fair, and the seas calm. Don’t look so worried, my poppet,” she told her daughter.
“I was six months coming from India, and I managed to arrive safely.”
“He should already have reached Ulster, and taken on the colonists,” Fortune replied. “They are probably even now sailing toward their rendezvous with Leonard Calvert. He has surely embarked by now.”
And indeed Lord Baltimore’s expedition had departed Gravesend, but they did not get far.
Cecil Calvert had been wise to remain in England.
His enemies were spreading rumors that his two ships, the Ark and the Dove, were actually sending nuns and soldiers to Spain.
Lord Baltimore had to go to court to defend himself, and his expedition.
His vessels were stopped by a royal naval ship, and forced to put into Cowes, on the Isle of Wight.
There they sat for almost a month before finally being allowed to proceed on their journey.
The master of the Ark, knowing that the Cardiff Rose was waiting off Cape Clear, had sent word to Kieran Devers via an outbound ship.
He explained the delay, suggesting that the Cardiff Rose proceed to Barbados where they would await Lord Baltimore’s expedition which would shortly follow.
On November twenty-second the colonists bound for Mary’s Land departed at long last. England was hardly out of sight when they were caught in a violent storm, but once it had passed they had perfect weather for the rest of their journey to Barbados, so perfect that the Ark’s captain remarked upon it.
He had never known such a smooth crossing.
The single violent storm they had encountered had, however, separated them from their traveling companion, the smaller pinnace, the Dove.
They could only hope she had survived the gale, and would meet them in Barbados as the Cardiff Rose was to do.
Kieran Devers and his companions sailed across a cloudless blue sea facing the unknown.
Day after day the sun shone brightly down on them.
The further from Ireland they got, the warmer the air grew.
The weather was so fair, and the voyage so smooth, that Mistress Jones and Taffy brought their plants topside, making a small enclosure for them in the bow area of the deck.
After six weeks, the Cardiff Rose made landfall in Barbados where they would await the rest of the expedition.
The governor of the island, Sir Thomas Warner, was careful in his welcome.
The Cardiff Rose was a member of the O’Malley-Small trading company, and therefore of some small import.
Nonetheless it was filled with Irish Catholics.
Not enough to cause him any difficulty, but he was indeed concerned.
He tendered an invitation to Kieran and the ship’s captain for dinner so he might learn more.
Kieran gave his colonists leave to visit the island, but warned them they must cause no difficulty, or they would be sent back aboard and forced to remain.
“We must await Lord Calvert. I would be far more comfortable doing it ashore than aboard ship. We still have a long way to go. Any man found drunk will not be allowed ashore again until we reach Mary’s Land.” Then Kieran Devers went with Captain O’Flaherty to the governor’s home.
They were greeted cordially, and sat down to table. Kieran was fascinated by the long bunches of yellow cucumber-shaped growths hanging from trees outside the governor’s dining room.
Seeing the direction of his gaze the governor chuckled. “Bananas,” he said. “They are called bananas. Peel away the yellow outer skin, and inside is a sweet fruit not unlike the taste of marmalade. I’ll give you some to bring back aboard ship.”
“We’re remaining on the island while we await the arrival of Lord Baltimore’s expedition, my lord. If we have your permission, of course,” Kieran answered him. “We have been at sea for weeks, and are not sailors used to the water. My men are mostly farmers.”
“Where are you bound for, if I may ask?” the governor inquired.
“Lord Baltimore’s new colony of Mary’s Land,” Kieran told him.
“‘Tis only for Catholics, I am told,” Sir Thomas replied.
“Nay, sir, Mary’s Land is for all men of goodwill, be they Catholic or Protestant,” Kieran told him earnestly. “None will be persecuted. That is why we are going, my lord, but many who travel with Leonard Calvert are Protestants.”
“Don’t like the idea of a Catholic colony,” the governor grumbled. “We’ve got too much trouble with the Spanish here as it is.”
“Mary’s Land is not a Spanish colony, my lord. It is an English colony. We are all loyal subjects of his majesty. Did you know that my wife’s half-brother is the king’s honored nephew?”
“Indeed?” The governor looked a bit skeptical.
“Lord Charles Frederick Stuart, the duke of Lundy,” Kieran said. “They call him the not-so-royal Stuart.”
“Ah, yes, I recall something about Prince Henry having a bastard,” Sir Thomas responded. “The mistress was a pretty wench as I remember now. Dark hair, and eyes like the turquoise sea.”
“My mother-in-law, the duchess of Glenkirk,” Kieran said, “although she was not wed to James Leslie when she was the prince’s beloved friend.”
“You’re welcome to remain on the island itself as long as your people don’t cause us any difficulties,” the governor told Kieran.
“Thank you, my lord,” Kieran said politely, and turned his attention to his meal.
“Nicely done, sir,” Captain O’Flaherty said softly with a wink. “The family would be proud of you.”
Kieran looked at the captain, and the eyes twinkling back at him were familiar. “God’s blood!” he swore softly. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”
“Ualtar O’Flaherty, son of Ewan, grandson of the great Skye, great-grandson of Dubhdara himself,” was the smiling reply.
“Your wife and I are cousins, although I have never had the pleasure of meeting her or any of her nearest kin. I only met my grandmother, Skye, twice in my lifetime. My father is the Master of Ballyhenessey in Ireland. I’m the only one of his sons who felt the urge to go to sea.
My grandmother saw to it that I could have my heart’s desire as she did for several of my cousins.
Various of us have been master of the Cardiff Rose.
She’s a fine, safe vessel. Mostly I’ve been on the Mediterranean run.
We call in at various times at Algiers, San Lorenzo, Marseilles, Naples, Venice, Athens, Alexandria, Istanbul. ”
“Why didn’t I know who you were?” Kieran wondered aloud.
“Was it important to you, sir?” Captain O’Flaherty asked.
Kieran laughed. “‘Tis a strange lot, this family I’ve married into, Ualtar O’Flaherty,” he said.
“Aye, sir, and that’s a truth,” the captain agreed cheerfully.
It had been early December when they reached Barbados.
They kept their Christmas there. There was no priest to celebrate the mass for them, so they sang songs and said their prayers quietly.
A feast was arranged for the men on the beach where a pit was dug, and a large pig was purchased in the marketplace for roasting.
A platter with bananas, musk-melon, pineapple, and watermelon was served along with roasted yams. Other than the pig, these were foods unfamiliar to the colonists.
They tasted them reluctantly, and then discovering that they were good, ate with enthusiasm.