Destiny: A Bermuda Love Story Page 3

  What Edward saw was a sad little house—a rustic dwelling framed of cedar, with a roof thatched in palmetto—that looked in danger of collapse, were it to be buffeted by a strong wind. It was certainly meager compared to Virginia standards, to his standards, but he supposed it would be deemed sufficient shelter by Bermuda standards. Not much more than a crude cabin, really, in his estimation. But his daughter seemed happy here. He wondered whether Elizabeth had been happy there without him. He could have offered her so much more. Should have.

  He saw a large block of limestone in the shape of a roof, hardening in the heat. It appeared to be a new building in process. The shipwright was building a new house for himself and his daughter, something more permanent.

  The salty, humid weather couldn’t support a tobacco crop, but Edward saw that potatoes and cassava were flourishing in the fertile soil around the structure. Certainly no Eden on earth as purported by the Virginia Company. Not where he would envision raising a child of his.

  He was told that the man Richard Smith built cedar sloops in the boatyards in St. George’s and that, he supposed, was as good a livelihood in this part of the world as any to support a child.

  “I meant no offense,” Edward assured hurriedly. “I only wish to compensate you for...”

  “You make her sound like a burden. Anne could never be a burden to me. She’s my greatest joy in life. Go back to Virginia. To your own family. You’re not wanted here. You, sir, are a both a coward and a fool. You did not deserve Elizabeth’s love. And you don’t deserve a treasure like Anne.”

  When Richard saw the light go out in Edward’s eyes, he relented, because he had a kind heart.

  “I can see how much this is costing you,” he said. “Leave your address and I will keep you informed of the child’s progress in the coming years.”

  “I want to see Elizabeth’s grave,” Edward said, his eyes raw with emotion.

  “It’s not very far. We’ll go, then.”

  Edward gathered against his heart the bundle of letters the shipwright had handed him, and the two walked stiffly to the tombstone that marked his love’s final resting place. It was behind Bermuda’s first church, a framed wooden structure with a thatched roof.

  There were fresh flowers on her grave, he noted. It was well tended and shaded by a cedar tree. That pleased him.

  He read the inscription on the stone.

  Year 1593-1620

  Elizabeth Sutton Smith

  Wife of Richard

  Mother of Anne

  I will wait forever.

  The grim finality of her death hit him like a punch in the gut and knocked him to his knees. Ignoring his host, he sobbed her name uncontrollably, over and over.

  “She never knew why you didn’t come for her. For the first few years she would just sit and stare out at the ocean. ‘I’m waiting, you see,’ she’d say, and she’d knead her hand in her skirts the way she always did when she was agitated.”

  Edward nodded, as if in a trance. Of course he remembered. And he summoned all his treasured images of Elizabeth as if she were right there, standing before him.

  “She would rush to the docks whenever a new ship came in, hoping to see you, or hear news of you,” Richard said. “And when there was nothing, she sagged and wilted, like a fragile flower. And then one day she stopped looking out to sea. That’s when she noticed me and eventually agreed to marry me, I think for the child’s sake. So Anne would have a proper father. She cared nothing for herself or her situation, but she would have given her life for her daughter. I tried to give her a good life.”

  “I can see that you cared for her,” Edward conceded. “I went back to England to find her, to tell her that I had married. Her mother told me she was here. That’s when I returned to Bermuda.”

  “Weeks. You missed seeing her by weeks,” said Richard, the grief still fresh in his eyes.

  A howl of pain threatened to well up from Edward’s heart, but it wouldn’t escape his throat. He lay prone on Elizabeth’s grave.

  The shipbuilder lifted his visitor up from the ground. “It’s not good for you to be here. Come, let’s go. You can stay the evening as a guest in my house, as Elizabeth’s friend. She would have wanted that.”

  “Her letters. I want to be close to her when I read her letters.”

  “Yes, well, then I’ll leave you alone.”

  “I’ll want to see my daughter, Anne, once more before I go.” She was so beautiful, so fine, he thought, so much like Elizabeth. She must have brought a lot of joy to her mother.

  The man nodded but warned, “You’re not to tell her who you are. It wouldn’t do her any good. It would just confuse her. She’s lost enough already.”

  Chapter Five

  Bermuda

  Edward, My Love,

  Richard Norwood has arrived. He will survey the islands and divide them into tribes. We have heard reports from Jamestown of deaths from disease, starvation, and Indian attacks. There is still no word from you. It’s been four years since we were together. I fear you are lost. I know I am lost without you.

  Love, Elizabeth

  Christmas 1613

  ****

  Darling Edward,

  Our small community has swelled to over six hundred people. I now fear I shall never see you again. I have waited so long for you to come. I am sorry, but I cannot wait any longer. You must be dead, for were you alive, you would have come for me. I know that in my heart. But if, by chance, you still live, then I hope you have a wonderful life and that you have finally found your destiny.

  Yours Always, Elizabeth

  1615

  ****

  The rest of the letters were full of Anne, her birth, her attributes, her brilliance, and how much she reminded Elizabeth of Edward. She spoke of the kindness of her husband, how he had offered Elizabeth and Anne stability and protection.

  Edward sagged against the cold stone bench facing the grave. He felt Elizabeth’s love even in death. He hoped she had found some measure of happiness in her life. Hoped she had found it in her heart to forgive him for leaving her, for betraying her trust. And he knew with certainty that although he would sail back to Virginia, he would never again know true happiness. His heart was buried with his true love here on the island he had helped found.

  He looked up and saw Elizabeth standing there. No, he was hallucinating. It was Anne. He couldn’t stop staring. She was the mirror image of her mother.

  “Father says it is getting dark and you should be coming home,” Anne said.

  “Thank you, child.”

  “You said you knew my mother?” Anne asked.

  “Very well. We grew up together, in fact. I gave your mother that silver locket. Did she tell you?”

  “She told me many things,” Anne said, speaking slowly.

  Edward reached out his hand and Anne placed hers in it. He wiped at the tears on his cheeks.

  “I’ve only seen my father cry once,” Anne stated. “And that was when my mother died. But he didn’t see me watching. Are you sad that my mother died? Is that why you’re crying?”

  “Yes, I’m very sad.”

  “She used to tell me that my real father was a pirate who sailed the seas and that one day he would come for us.”

  Edward squeezed her hand as they walked toward the shipwright’s house.

  “Your mother was a very special woman.” Edward sighed.

  “Have you come to take me away?”

  Edward was stunned.

  “Take you away? No, I—Your father would not allow that.”

  “But you’re the pirate my mother waited for.”

  “Yes,” he said, looking at his child.

  “Then, shall we go to Virginia? Father said that is where you’re from. Shall we all go together, you and me and Father?”

  Edward turned to her.

  “Your home is here.”

  “Do you have any children?”

  Edward hesitated.

  “Yes, a boy, John. He�
��s about your age.”

  “I would like to meet him one day.”

  “He would like that.”

  “Well, we’re home. I have laid out supper, and Father has prepared a place for you to sleep. I must go to bed.”

  “I’ve enjoyed our talk, Anne. I’ve enjoyed meeting you. I will see you in the morning, before I go.”

  Anne curtsied.

  Edward watched her go, his gaze following her until she was out of sight.

  Richard Smith carried a tray into the room.

  “Anne has fixed you something to eat. She wanted to stay and keep you company, but it’s past her bedtime. She’s quite taken with you. She thinks you are going to whisk her away to Virginia. The girl has big dreams.”

  “I wouldn’t presume to take her from you. But I should like to see her from time to time when I visit the island. And I would love to have Anne—and you, of course—visit us in Virginia.”

  “I don’t suppose I could keep you away. I told you I would keep you informed of her progress.”

  “I want her to have the best, the things I couldn’t give to Elizabeth. I am in a position to help her, to help you.”

  “We don’t need your help, but I’d have to be blind not to see that you loved her mother, and for that I will excuse your intrusion into our lives.”

  Richard walked over to the window and rolled up the picture of Edward with Elizabeth and another of Anne, both painted by Elizabeth.

  “Take these with you on your journey home. Perhaps you will find some comfort in them.”

  Edward ate his meal in silence, looking around the room where Elizabeth had lived with this man and their child. His child.

  Anne was a gift. He was bound to her even if he could not raise her as his own. He was influential now. He had contacts on the island. He could make sure good things came her way. That she never wanted for anything. Make sure the shipwright received the best contracts, without knowing who his benefactor was. He would help the stubborn, prideful man in spite of himself. For Anne’s sake. And he’d see her married well.

  Someone was shaking him awake.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “It’s Anne. Father said to wake you up. He’s had to buy some materials in town. I’m to see to your breakfast.”

  “Thank you, Anne. That’s very kind of you. What a treat.”

  “My mother taught me how to cook.”

  “A very useful skill. I smell something delicious coming from the kitchen. Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll meet you there.”

  When he joined her, she had fixed him a proper English breakfast.

  “Father will be coming back soon, and you and he will go together to hear Governor Butler speak at the House of Assembly meeting at St. Peter’s Church.”

  Edward had almost forgotten his official reason for being on the island.

  He didn’t have much time left with Anne before Richard arrived home. Edward took his daughter aside.

  “I want you to know that your father loved your mother very much and he tried so hard to come back to her. Had he known about you, there would be nothing in heaven or on earth that could have kept him away.”

  Anne stared up at him with wide eyes.

  Edward gave Anne a piece of paper with his information.

  “If you should ever need me, for any reason, you’ll know how to reach me. I was a very good friend of your mother’s, and I want to be a good friend to you.”

  He extended his hand and Anne shook it. Then she hugged him. He held on tight, knowing this might be the last time he would see his daughter.

  “I’m glad you came,” Anne said, smiling. “Will I see you again?”

  “I would like that. I will come to visit whenever I’m on the island. My ship sails again this afternoon.”

  “Then Godspeed.”

  Godspeed. The last word Elizabeth had spoken to him.

  ****

  As Edward lay dreaming on his bunk during the long sea voyage back to Virginia, the tall sailing ship rocked gently in the waves. The night sky was inky black and every star in the heavens was visible. Elizabeth was there, too. She was in his arms again. Images of her flickered behind his eyes. Elizabeth as a child. Elizabeth all grown up. Elizabeth in their tavern hideaway where he had known her so intimately on their last night together. He relived every moment of their life together, every moment in that room, the night they had conceived Anne. Surely their love had been meant to be, if Anne was the result.

  Elizabeth was never far away from his thoughts. She looked like an angel as she walked down the deck in a gossamer gown, his wife, his own. For in his mind they were married. And in his heart they were one. The stars were aligned. She was his destiny.

  Author’s Note: Read my novel UNDER THE MOON GATE to find Edward and Elizabeth’s happy ending.

  A word about the author...

  Marilyn Baron is a public relations consultant in Atlanta. She’s a PRO member of Romance Writers of America (RWA) and Georgia Romance Writers (GRW) and winner of the GRW 2009 Chapter Service Award. She writes humorous women’s fiction, romantic suspense, and paranormal. She graduated from The University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, with a Bachelor of Science degree in Journalism and a minor in Creative Writing.

  Born in Miami, Florida, Marilyn lives in Roswell, Georgia, with her husband, and they have two daughters. She loves to travel. Her favorite place to visit is Italy, where she studied for six months in her junior year of college.

  She loves Bermuda and hopes her readers will love “visiting” this romantic and exotic destination getaway in her new novel Under the Moon Gate, and its prequel Destiny: A Bermuda Love Story, and find it as charming and inviting as she does.

  Author e-mail:

  marilyn@marilynbaron.com

  Petit Fours and Hot Tamales blog:

  www.petitfoursandhottamales.com

  To find out more about Marilyn and her books, visit her Web site at:

  www.marilynbaron.com

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.