The Mayflower Bride

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  This was new territory.

  Seemed like everything about the life ahead of him would be new. A completely fresh start.

  John looked back to him. “Have you met Stephen Hopkins yet?”

  William kept to himself a lot. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

  “Oh, well now…there is someone that you simply must meet. He’s been to Jamestown, was shipwrecked and stranded on Bermuda. He even attended the wedding of the famous Indian Pocahontas.”

  “So you know him?” He had to admit the man sounded intriguing.

  “He’s a passenger on the Mayflower, mate!” John chuckled. “He’s been telling us these stories the past few nights.”

  But William had kept to himself and written in his journal while the men stayed top deck to swap stories.

  “Maybe it’s time you join us.” John elbowed him.

  “You’ve asked me every night—”

  “And every night you answer the same.” One of his friend’s eyebrows raised.

  “Well, perhaps this time will be different.”

  “Perhaps it will.” John slapped William on the back.

  They reached the Speedwell in swift time, thanks to John’s fast feet. William raced up the gangway behind the cooper and held tight to his tools. Sounded like he needed to meet Mr. Hopkins. As he followed John toward the door to the lower levels, several people walking about the tiny main deck caught William’s attention. He’d heard a lot about the Separatists and was curious to meet them and understand them. Anyone devout enough to stand up to the Church of England fascinated him. Not that he had much use for God or any church.

  John stopped at the top of the steps. “Good morning, ladies.” He tipped his hat, and a broad smile lit his face as he looked down into the mouth of the ship.

  A white bonnet appeared at the top of the companionway. Then a knot of brown hair and a blue cloak. “Good morning.” The lady nodded to John and turned to William. “Good morning.” Her eyes danced as she smiled.

  William was fascinated with the joy on her face. “Good morning to you, miss.” He hadn’t met many women in his line of work. Especially not any close to his age. And if he guessed correctly, this woman was younger than him.

  She turned back to the opening. “Mary Elizabeth, hurry up. It appears we have some dashing men to greet us.”

  John carried on a conversation with the jovial girl, but William’s attention was drawn down.

  As he looked back to the square hole in the deck, he saw another white cap emerge. This time, blond hair—the color of his own—was tied in a neat knot at the lady’s neck, and a red cape covered her form. Her head was lowered—obviously keeping an eye on her steps. William found himself anticipating another joyous expression.

  But when she lifted her head, instead of a large smile, her face bore a timid expression. Unsure. And a bit embarrassed? With brisk steps, he strode to John’s side and offered a hand down to assist. “Good day to you, miss.”

  “Good day.” She took hold of his hand. “Thank you for your assistance.” Shaking her head, she ascended the last few steps. “You would suppose I could be better at that climb by now.”

  “Not at all, miss.” William found himself smiling. Brown eyes searched his. “Ships can be difficult to navigate. Especially for the fairer sex.”

  Half a smile. She tucked a strand of hair back under her cap.

  He bowed slightly. “I’m William Lytton, aboard the Mayflower.”

  The smile that had started now blossomed into something radiant. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Lytton. I’m Mary Elizabeth Chapman.”

  It took a moment to gain his bearings. John’s chatter went on beside him, but William was mesmerized by the woman in front of him. Was she one of the Separatists? She must be to be on the Speedwell.

  “Again, thank you very much for your kindness.” She turned to her friend. “Dorothy, we need to let these men get to their work.”

  Mary Elizabeth—in the red cape—tugged at her friend’s arm. With a look over her shoulder, she sent William a slight smile.

  As they walked toward the bow, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

  “William.”

  A tap on his shoulder.

  “William.”

  Another tap.

  “Will–i–am.” John slapped him on the shoulder.

  He jerked toward the cooper. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

  His friend’s laughter washed over him. “Nothing. I just had to call your name three times. We need to get down to the hold, but I take it a certain lady has caught your attention?”

  “What?” William furrowed his brow and shook his head. Couldn’t exactly tell his friend that he’d never had much interaction with young ladies, now could he? “No. Of course not. I was just thinking about our journey.”

  More laughter from John brought a few stares to land in their direction. He slapped William again on the shoulder. “If you repeat that to yourself over and over, maybe you’ll believe it.”

  Heat rushed to William’s cheeks, but he couldn’t admit to John that he was right. Best to just get to work and attempt to get a vision of Mary Elizabeth in her red cape out of his mind.

  “Well …” Dorothy clasped her hands—a sure indication she was about to interrogate her subject—and walked backward up the deck in front of Mary Elizabeth.

  “Well what?” No matter how hard her friend tried, Mary Elizabeth wasn’t about to take the bait.

  “You know exactly what I’m asking about, silly.”

  “Do I?”

  Dorothy stopped and placed her hands on her hips. “Don’t play games with me, Mary Elizabeth Chapman. I saw how you smiled at Mr. Lytton.”

  Even using all her energy, Mary Elizabeth couldn’t stop a new smile from forming on her face.

  “See? Just like that.” Dorothy looked around and then grabbed Mary Elizabeth’s arm and dragged her to the bulwark. “He’s a handsome man, isn’t he?”

  “Dorothy Raynsford, you need to hush right now. You know he’s not part of our congregation—he could be a heathen for all we know—”

  “His friend John is a God-fearing man,” her friend was quick to interject.

  “And you discovered this fact how, exactly?”

  “While Mr. Lytton assisted you up the companionway, John and I had quite a lively discussion. I found out that he is the cooper on the Mayflower and that his friend is a carpenter. And quite skilled, I’m told.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  Dorothy huffed. “You are not playing fair. I’ve never seen you take interest in any young man. Ever. And you would deny me the pleasure of being a part of this—your best friend?”

  For a moment, Mary Elizabeth almost felt guilty. But that was always Dorothy’s way. Granted, Mr. Lytton was indeed a handsome man. But was she ready to admit that out loud? His hair was the same color as her own, but his eyes are what drew her. Blue and piercing. His gaze had been intense.

  Dorothy giggled. “You don’t even have to say anything. I can read your face. You’re thinking of him again.”

  “Oh gracious, Dorothy, you could try the patience of the Good Lord above.” She wrapped her cloak tighter around her and leaned on the bulwark. The scent of salt water was much better than that of unwashed bodies. And to think they still had weeks to go aboard this ship.

  “So …?”

  Mary Elizabeth shook her head.

  “I’m not saying you have to marry the man, but you are taking all the fun out of this. Can’t you at least admit to thinking he’s handsome?”

  “What about Mr. Alden? You spoke with him longer than I did with Mr. Lytton. Am I to assume that you found him handsome?”

  “Diverting the focus of our conversation is cruel, Mary Elizabeth. And yes, I found Mr. Alden quite handsome, as well. But please remember, I didn’t get to take a man’s hand as he assisted me. It’s totally different.”

  Warmth rushed up Mary Elizabeth’s arms as she remembered the sim
ple touch of Mr. Lytton’s hand. How could the gentlemanly gesture feel so different from him than from any other man? Once again, she couldn’t keep from smiling.

  “You haven’t smiled this much in a long time.” Dorothy’s elbow poked Mary Elizabeth in the side.

  “All right. You’ve beaten the subject to death. Yes, I found Mr. Lytton handsome. I’ve never felt anything like I did when we met. Happy?”

  “Yes, quite.” Her friend laughed and hooked Mary Elizabeth’s arm. “Now, let’s take a stroll around the deck and discuss what we hope to find in a husband.”

  For the love of all things good, Mary Elizabeth couldn’t decide what was worse—embarrassment of the topic or admitting she found a Stranger handsome.

  David sat on his mat and stared at the toy in his lap. The top was one of his favorites normally, but on a ship it wasn’t as fun—extra space wasn’t known on the small ship, and when they were out to sea, the rocking motion made the top fall over. It would be nice if he had a friend to play with. But all the other children his age were busy.

  It was hard growing up. Ever since he’d breeched—at age six—he’d wanted to be like his father.

  A man.

  He’d gotten to wear the breeches and clothes like a man, but he’d been small. Too small for any real work. And then Mother got sick and died.

  Everything changed with Father then.

  At eight years old, David was still small, but before they were chosen to go to the New World, he thought he might like to learn the art of weaving. Many of their congregation were very good at the trade. But Father wanted him to study the Bible more instead of learning a trade like most boys his age. While he loved the Bible, he didn’t understand. Why was Father treating him differently now that Mother was dead?

  His future was uncertain. But he loved his family. He would obey Father and study as much as he could. Maybe when he was stronger and bigger, he could help the family more.

  Maybe then, Father wouldn’t be so sad. At least he’d shown excitement about the trip. But two nights ago, David found him crying.

  They all missed Mother.

  Sometimes at night, he wanted to cry too because he missed her so much. His heart often ached with the loss of her. Now they’d left her buried in Holland. And he could barely remember her face.

  He shook his head and stood up, the top in his hand. His thoughts weren’t honoring to either his father or mother. If he wanted to be a man, he’d just have to start acting like one.

  Taking the toy over to the trunk, David opened the lid and dropped it in. He needed to prove that he was growing up. Father would see that his son could work alongside him in the new colony. Maybe then happiness would return on a permanent basis to the Chapman household.

  CHAPTER 4

  Monday, 21 August 1620

  Dartmouth, England

  William watched the Speedwell once again cut through the water, this time with a good wind in her sails. Too bad he couldn’t see any snippets of a red cape. What could Miss Chapman be doing? How was she? The thoughts had recurred many times over the past week. Too many times.

  Shaking his head, he gripped the top plank of the bulwark. It would be weeks before he’d get to see her again, and even then, he wasn’t worthy of her attention. Especially since her whole reason for the trip revolved around her faith. Faith which William didn’t understand. Maybe it was time to learn more about it.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Lytton.”

  William turned and saw Robert Coppin—the master’s mate. “Afternoon, Mr. Coppin. What can I do for you?”

  “Master Jones was hoping you could help him build an idea he has for his cabin.”

  “Of course, I would love to be of assistance.”

  “You would be compensated as well.” The man’s weathered face concealed his age. But he was an imposing presence.

  “While it is much appreciated, sir, it isn’t necessary.”

  “Master Jones insists.” Mr. Coppin bowed and nodded. “He’s heard of your skill as a carpenter and knows that an honest man is worthy of his wages.”

  “Thank you, sir.” William gave a nod of affirmation. “Please lead the way.”

  Coppin headed toward the stern of the ship where the master’s cabin sat on the main deck behind the steerage room. Above the cabin was the poop deck—the highest level of the ship on the aft castle.

  William had studied the ship at great length over the last few weeks. The whipstaff inside the steerage room was how they steered the Mayflower. The precise movements of the sailors as they worked the sails fascinated William—climbing to and fro on the large masts. Harnessing the wind was indeed a science.

  But this would be the first time he’d seen the ship master’s quarters.

  Coppin opened the door to the cabin, which wasn’t much bigger than an eight-foot square—if that.

  Master Jones stood by an old cabinet. “Mr. Lytton. Thank you for coming.”

  “Of course.” With all three of them in the room, it felt quite cramped.

  The ship master pointed to the cabinet. “I’m hoping you can remake this into more usable space.”

  Mr. Coppin bowed to the master. “I’ll be on the poop deck if you need me, sir.”

  Jones nodded and turned back to William. “Do you think you can reuse the wood?”

  “What do you have in mind, sir?”

  “Something a bit more practical.” As Jones described what he was hoping for, William measured the wood with the width of his hand.

  “I think it can be done and will give it my best effort.”

  “Thank you, Lytton. I’ve heard you’ve earned quite a reputation as a carpenter in London.”

  “Thank you, sir.” The praise made William’s heart swell. If only Paul were still alive. His mentor would have loved the adventure of the New World.

  “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

  Christopher Jones walked out of the room, an air of authority surrounding him. No doubt years of commanding ships gave him the confidence to be comfortable with the man he’d become.

  Maybe one day William would be able to embrace the man he was as well. Maybe one day he wouldn’t think of himself as an orphan. Maybe one day he could earn the affection of a beautiful woman like Mary Elizabeth.

  Monday, 28 August 1620

  Mary Elizabeth leaned over the mat where her brother David struggled to breathe. What else could she do? Father had stayed up all night with the boy and now slept next to him. Dorothy tried to convince her to get some air while the seas were calm, but Mary Elizabeth couldn’t leave little David. The ship’s surgeon—Mr. Smith—was concerned it could be pneumonia.

  The only other time she’d heard that term was when a neighbor in Leyden died from the dreaded disease.

  Why had he been out in the rain? She put her face in her hands. Ever since they’d all had to walk around in wet boots and stockings to help stop the last leak, David had had a cough. Even with her warning to stay out of the rain, he’d gone out to help with chores on the ship’s deck.

  The past couple of weeks, David had acted differently—instead of sitting and playing, he’d tried to work with anyone who would let him—and Mary Elizabeth wasn’t sure what had prompted the all-fire independence. He’d always been a busy child, but very cooperative and docile. To see him lying still and lifeless …

  The thought of death sent her into another bout of uncontrollable tears. God understood the appeals from her heart. She knew that. But was she deserving of His grace in this matter?

  Oh, Father God, please forgive me for my foolish ways and sinful nature. And please, Lord…please…spare David.

  Her tears soaked into the blanket covering her brother. What would she do without him? What would her father do? Her brother was so small ….

  Footsteps sounded behind her, and Mary Elizabeth swiped at her cheeks. Most of the congregation had stayed away because of the fever David couldn’t break, but maybe someone approached with help.

  The makeshi
ft curtain separating her family’s small space swished to the side. “Miss Chapman”—the surgeon’s clipped tone held a sense of relief—“Master Reynolds is turning us about. The ship is leaking again, and so we make for Plymouth for repairs.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “Not as bad as the last, I’m told, but I’m thankful for David’s sake. He needs more care than I can give on the ship.”

  The words sunk into her heart. That meant David was worse than she’d imagined. With a swallow, she choked back the tears. “How long will it take us to return to port?”

  “A few days. But if we can keep the boy’s fever down, we might be able to help him more once we reach land. I’ll be back this evening to check on him.” The man turned on his heel and left.

  While his words were not encouraging, the surgeon did give her a slight reason to hope. God could heal David. Of that she was certain. And even though they would be delayed further, maybe it was Providence that brought them back to England. But what about the leak? Would they be able to keep it from growing like the last? For the third time, their ship would have to limp its way into harbor. Her heart sank as fear built in her mind. She shook her head. The time was needed to be faithful and positive. Not doubting or anxious. Oh Lord, please help us. I need Your courage to fill me.

  For David.

  For her father. He’d already lost so much. Losing David would crush him.

  No. She wouldn’t allow her thoughts to go there.

  Thankfully, they had a surgeon aboard. Mr. Smith appeared very young, and she’d been told that he was betrothed to a young lady back in England—but this wasn’t a time to doubt his abilities or to question his experience. From what she could tell, he was very knowledgeable.