Dangerous Dreams: A Novel

by Mike Rhynard

  He leaned forward, laid his hands gently on her shoulders; kissed her softly on her cheek, her neck, then her lips; eased his tongue inside her mouth, found hers, teased it gently then firmly. He lowered his hands to her waist then suddenly shrank back, looked into her eyes, and slowly shook his head. “Emily, you arouse my passions and fuel the fires of my heart. I must lie with you again . . . soon . . . even now, this very night. And I ask you, what would be the wrong of it? Our marriage is consummated. Let us begin our life together, here, now.” He caressed her sides, started to draw her close.

  Emily stiffened; her eyes filled with panic. “No, Hugh, not here, not now.” But the marriage is consummated, and I am pregnant with his child. So the marriage is but a formality. And is a wife not bound to do her husband’s will even as she loathes doing so? And am I not already condemned? Her mind flailed in a sea of guilt like someone who can’t swim trying to float in deep water. She looked at him with a resolute but not unkind look. “Please, Hugh, not yet. My father’s death still weighs heavy on my mind. I need more time. This is all too fast.”

  He sighed, thought for a moment. “I understand, but, Emily, prithee remember the promise I made to you that day in the forest. Regrettably, it must remain in place.” He looked sternly into her eyes. “I know you understand and will do what is necessary to protect that beautiful child.”

  Scum! I know you’ll do as you say, but perchance I can delay this. “Hugh, I cannot yet do as you wish. Besides my grief, ’tis my time of the month. Truly, I am ill, and . . . and I’m”—she made her herself blush, look pained, anxious, embarrassed to be speaking of such things—“ certain you understand my hesitance?”

  His face paled; he fidgeted, swallowed twice. “Yes, I understand.” He nodded repeatedly. “We shall wait, and meanwhile I shall visit Governor Baylye and inform him of our intention to marry with all haste.” He leaned forward, kissed her sealed lips, bowed, said, “Be well, Emily, my love,” and departed.

  Emily closed the door, walked to her stump, sat; she stared dry-eyed into the fire, saw Isna’s face, his longing, sorrowful look. Isna, my love, I love you, I love you, I love you. How I wrong you. How can I betray you so? Please forgive me.

  Baylye said, “Come in, Master Tayler.” He pointed at a stump then sat on another beside it.

  Tayler sat, glanced around the room, looked anxiously at Baylye. “Well, Governor?”

  Baylye pursed his lips, stared at Tayler for a moment. “Master Tayler, I’m afraid I’ve disappointing news for you. I’ve received information that prohibits my marrying you to anyone.”

  Tayler stood, glared at Baylye. “Devil take you, Baylye. What in hell do you mean? You can’t do that! And pray tell, who speaks against me, and why are they not here to speak their lies to my face?”

  “They are here, Master Tayler.” He glanced at the door. “Gentlemen, please come in.”

  Lieutenant Waters and his three sergeants entered the cottage, stood in a half circle facing Tayler and Baylye.

  Baylye said, “Please inform Master Tayler of the reasons.”

  Waters nodded at Baylye then Myllet, who studied Tayler with a loathsome look as he began to speak. “Master Tayler, you well know what I’ve spoken against you, but I shall repeat it. After the shipwreck, you forcefully pulled Robert Wilkinson from the board to which he clung, so you could save yourself, and you then watched him drown. ’Twas no less than murder, Master Tayler, and I witnessed it as I swam toward that same board—a board large enough for all three of us to have safely survived the night. I suspect you would have tried to drown me, as well, were I not a soldier and armed. And mark me well, had more eyes than my own seen your crime, you’d have been long since hung for what you did.”

  Tayler leered at him. “That’s a lie, Myllet. I did no such thing. You simply want to ruin me. ’Tis your word against mine and nothing to do with marriage.” He looked at Baylye. “What else have you, Governor?”

  Baylye said, “Forget not, Sir, that ’tis against the law for me to knowingly marry someone of low character; and albeit ’tis his word against yours, Sergeant Myllet’s accusation raises serious doubt about your character.” He nodded at Gibbes while Tayler stewed, held his silence.

  Gibbes said, “Master Tayler, as you are aware, I know most of the despicable things you’ve done in your shameful life, so you shouldn’t be surprised that I know you abandoned a wife and two children in England.”

  Tayler’s eyes and nostrils flared; his breath quickened as tiny beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “Damn you, Gibbes. I’ve no wife or children, and you’re naught but a lying scoundrel who wants to destroy me and has made a crusade of attempting to do so.”

  “I wish not to destroy you, Master Tayler, for you’re doing that quite well on your own. I seek only justice.”

  Tayler quickly faced Baylye. “Again, ’tis my word against his, so his testimony is without merit. Is this the best you can do, Baylye?”

  “We’ve not finished.”

  Waters said, “In addition to Sergeant Gibbes, Sergeants Smith and Myllet, and I myself, know of the family you’ve abandoned in England, also that you abandoned them a considerable time before we sailed for Virginia and successfully eluded the authorities who sought to hold you responsible before we sailed.”

  Smith and Myllet nodded.

  Waters said, “Do you still deny this?”

  Tayler scowled. “I can see you’ve all conspired against me, so it matters not what I say. You all clearly seek to deny me the pleasure of marrying Mistress Colman, an event both she and I deeply desire. Could it be you’re jealous of the favor she shows me?” He recaptured his sneer as if his insinuation had bolstered his confidence.

  Baylye said, “Mistress Colman is a fine young woman of the strongest character and kindness. And from what we know of you, Hugh Tayler, ’tis impossible to understand why she would favor you over any rival, under any circumstance, unless illicitly compelled to do so. But before you leave, there is yet another grave charge against you.” He again nodded at Waters.

  Waters walked to within six inches of Tayler, leaned closer, glared into his eyes. “Before he returned to England, Governor White told Master Baylye and me that there is yet another active warrant for your arrest back in England.”

  Tayler paled, looked ready to vomit; he spoke weakly, without his usual bravado. “For what?”

  “For the rape and murder of the wife of a friend of yours. Governor White informed us that as we sailed from England, your former friend arrived on the dock and pleaded with him to stay the departure until the magistrate, who was on his way to the ship, arrived with the warrant and removed you to prison. Governor White agreed to do so and directed the pilot, Fernandez, to hold the vessel in place, but Fernandez ignored the order and hastily set sail.” A sudden chill raced down Waters’ spine. How had he missed this? A volley of questions he’d never thought to ask suddenly burst into his mind like a regiment of frightening apparitions: Why had Walsingham intervened when White wanted to remove Tayler from the manifest? Why did Fernandez blatantly disobey the governor to protect Tayler, a man wanted for murder? Why, on the voyage, did he try to elude and then abandon the flyboat, which carried part of the colony’s supplies and people? Why, when we stopped at that bountiful island on the last leg of the voyage, did he not allow us to take on the additional supplies we needed? And lastly, why did he abandon the colony at Roanoke, a place of known hostility and danger, instead of bringing it to Chesapeake as mandated by the charter? The questions churned in his mind like a ring of vultures circling their prey. You fool, Waters. ’Tis plain as a portrait. Walsingham, Tayler, Fernandez—all together in a plot to undermine the colony, ensure its failure. God’s teeth, man, Governor White said it all in a single breath, and we never tied it together. Fernandez was there in plain sight all the while, the stage setter of the conspiracy. So now what, Waters? Stay mum, that’s what, lest we scare Tayler from making the move we need to hang him. ’Twill indeed be more diff
icult now that he knows we’re onto him, but mayhap he won’t suspect we know of the conspiracy.

  Tayler meticulously leered at each man in the room. “Governor White’s a liar. He hates me and will do anything to discredit anyone he sees as a competitor or threat.”

  Waters said, “And why would Governor White consider you a competitor or a threat?”

  “Because . . . because . . .” He scowled. “If you know so much and have sound cases, why do you not arrest me and prosecute them? I know why, and so do you—because they’re contrived and without merit.”

  Baylye said, “I think not, Master Tayler. The true answer is that because those alleged crimes occurred in England, ’twould be illegal to arrest you without the due process of the warrants in hand. And while we are in a condition of martial law here, where I can legally hear and judge cases committed within the colony, I may not do so with regard to alleged crimes committed outside the colony. So we will wait until Governor White returns with the two warrants and then arrest and prosecute you. And meanwhile where will you escape to? The Powhatan village? I think you’d find their measure of justice considerably more painful than ours.”

  Tayler held his glare. “You’re all out to discredit me; and mark my promise, I shall even the score with each of you.” He turned and stomped out the door.

  Waters looked at Baylye and his sergeants. “Would that we could have saved that for later when we have additional evidence, but Mistress Colman is the finest and noblest of ladies. As gentlemen, ’twas our duty to protect her with the truth. And by the saints above, we shall discover the compulsion he holds over her and hold him accountable.”

  Baylye said, “Well said, William, and thank you all.”

  “A pleasant duty, Sir.” Waters looked at his sergeants. “Men, continue to keep your eyes on Tayler and our other malcontents. I also ask you to watch Mistress Colman, for I fear—nay, I know—Tayler’s the sort to satisfy his inadequacies and disappointments by bullying a lady.”

  As Tayler walked briskly toward his cottage, his mind churned with possibilities, none good. If White knows of the warrant, he may also know of Walsingham’s plan. But how could he? Nay, he couldn’t know of that . . . or could he? He may be half a fool, but he’s not a total fool, and . . . fie! He knows Walsingham kept me on the voyage, and Walsingham’s messenger said Raleigh spoke to White shortly before we sailed. Indeed, he could know; but even if he does, he lacks the conspiratorial instinct to take it seriously and act upon it. So I think I remain safe on that endeavor. But the warrants—the damn warrants— they’re a different matter. What if White returns with them in hand? What then? I know. My father, Sir Francis Walsingham, will secure my acquittal on both counts. Yes, that’s it. And still better, he’ll likely have the warrants dismissed before White even sets sail. He smiled. So I am safe . . . and must now reward my benefactor by completing my mission . . . and reward myself by taking the woman I love to my bed as my unlawful wife.

  Emily knelt beside her father’s grave, prayed for him and Henry Harvie, prayed for herself, her mother, George, and Isna. Finally, she crossed herself, stood, turned, and walked toward the palisades gate forty yards away. She was halfway there when she spied Tayler limping hurriedly toward her. His face was flushed, eyes tight and focused, his jaw jutting out in a stiff pose as if locked in a permanent overbite. She stopped, felt a surge of anxiety abruptly numb her mind.

  Tayler looked back over his shoulder to see if anyone watched, then stopped in front of Emily. “The devil take those colluding jackanapes. They’ve conspired against me, refused to marry us.”

  “Who has?” An absurd irony struck Emily like a blow to the head. I may not have to marry him, but now my child and I shall never have even a pretense of legitimacy.

  “Baylye, Waters, and those three fools who do his bidding.”

  “Why have they done so?”

  “On the contrived grounds I told you of. ’Tis naught but an underhanded plot to embarrass me for not joining their conspiracy. And now they’ve got Baylye with them. I swear I shall kill all of them.”

  And now he’ll want me to be his . . .

  “But to hell with them. We need not be married to live together and enjoy the pleasures of marriage.”

  For a moment, Emily’s mind swam in the same frantic confusion she’d felt when being swept out to sea on the outer banks; but suddenly, a thin thread of defiance emerged from somewhere, began to weave itself into her thoughts. Being his wife would have been painful enough; but how shall I ever endure being his whore, a toy for his pleasure? And what of my child? It will have no status but that of a bastard. So all that was to be gained is now lost, and would it not be better to live alone in shame than to further degrade myself by being a slave to an evil son of the devil who would own my body and soul?

  “And to show our contempt for their authority, you shall be with me this very day. So come, let us go now to your cottage and in plain sight, move your belongings to mine.” He put his arm behind her back, started to nudge her toward the palisades.

  Emily held fast. “Do not push me! I will not be your whore, and I do not want you anywhere near my house ever again. Now leave me.”

  He looked startled for a second, but a sneer slowly slid across his face. “Perchance you’ve forgotten something. You’ve not the choice of deciding to be my mistress. You will be my mistress, or young Virginia Dare will perish. And ’twill be on your conscience; for you see, my obsession for you is such that her death means nothing by comparison.” He leaned his face to within inches of hers, showed her the same crazed look as the moment before he’d raped her. “And make not the mistake of thinking I cannot or will not do as I say, for I can, and I will.”

  Raw fear and despair again burrowed into Emily’s heart and mind, throbbed in her head like a violent headache. No escape. No choice. Her mind crafted words of submission, relayed them to her tongue; but before she could speak, a sudden impulse told her to wait; and as if an invisible butterfly hovered by her ear and whispered to her, she remembered Isna’s words: bravery is a virtue of Lakota women. A sudden sense of freedom and a swell of resolve to resist him swept into her mind; she took a deep breath, hardened herself. “Hugh Tayler, because you are the dregs of humanity, I’ve no doubt you’ll do as you say. So since I am not compelled to test your resolve with the life of one so dear, you may discretely have your way with me and use my body as you wish, but you will never own my mind or my soul, and I will not live with you and justify your crime against me. I further refuse to go to you or permit you to come to me for your pleasure until my grief for my father is complete and my monthly curse is ended. And if you try to force me or harm that child, I shall take my own life in the village green while shouting to the colony the reason why.” She spat in his face and ran toward the palisades gate.

  He stood still, watched her with a stunned look as her spit ran down his cheek. “Five days, Emily. No more. Do you hear me?”

  She ignored him, ran through the gate into the village. Lord, what have I done? Please save me; please save Virginia.

  Lieutenant Waters announced himself as he knocked on Emily’s door.

  She stood, rubbed her damp, bloodshot eyes, flipped her hair, then walked to the door, opened it, presented a nervous smile. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant. How may I help you?”

  Waters looked suddenly embarrassed. “Are you well, Mistress? I see you’ve been . . . I can speak to you another time.”

  “No, I’m fine, Lieutenant.” She sniffled.

  “Very well. My reason for coming is twofold. First, Governor Baylye and I wanted to ensure you understand why the governor is unable to marry you and Master Tayler. I’m sure you’re quite disappointed, and if you don’t want me to . . .”

  Emily tensed. “No. Please go on.”

  He told her of Myllet and the shipwreck, Tayler’s wife and children, and his arrest warrant for the rape and murder of a married woman.

  Instantly dizzy, Emily felt her knees weaken, be
gin to buckle.

  Waters steadied her. “Here, let me help you.” He walked her slowly to the closest stump, sat her down, then scooped a cup of water from the bucket and handed it to her.

  Emily sipped the water, took a deep breath, composed herself. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Please go on.”

  He explained why they could not legally prosecute Tayler before the governor returned. He then took a deep breath, looked more embarrassed than before. “Mistress Colman, if I am wrong in what I am about to say, and you do not want me to continue, please say so.” He paused for a response; none came. “It seems plain to Governor Baylye and me that you are not the type of young woman who would marry Hugh Tayler unless you were compelled in some illicit manner to do so, if you understand me.”

  A thin film of tears glossed Emily’s eyes. Dear Lord, I want so to tell him. They could arrest Tayler now for rape, but he’d deny it, and the entire colony would think me a slut. But they’ll know anyway when the baby shows. So why not accuse him now? Because there’s no jail to put him in, and he’d still be able to . . . to kill Virginia. Can’t take that chance. But what if . . .

  Waters studied her with mindful eyes that couldn’t miss her tears and anguished expression, decipher the agony behind them. “Mistress, I do not ask you to tell me if you are under threat, if you fear doing so; but I do urge you to consider it, for Hugh Tayler has shown himself to be the sort that—please forgive me if I offend you—that would mistreat a lady. The governor and I want you to know that you do not have to do what he says and should most definitely not do so. I know not if he holds something over you; but if he does, please know that my men and I, and every decent man in the colony, will help and protect you. And the sooner you inform us of any wrongs, the sooner we will be able to help.” He paused for a moment then smiled. “Mistress, I’ve admired your beauty of person and soul, also your enthusiasm and bravery, since we left England. You are indeed an angel among women, and I will die to protect you. Please know that.”