“What a place to have children!” (Jamestown oneshot)
Pairing: Samuel Castell x fem! reader
Word Count: 1128
Summary: When you set foot to be married in this colony, you’re apprehensive about meeting your intended. You are soon proven wrong seeing him with the local youngsters.
A/N: Much love to @joeslee for supplying the idea (and warm up for my next chapter) kind of on a concept night and I couldn’t let it go! So here it is! (Also J*celyn? Who is she? Don’t know her. She isn’t in the picture in this fic.) Edit, as fascinating as the real fact that one of the brides k*lled herself irl right before the ships boarded with the brides in 1620, I realized it was too triggering for a fluffy piece and broke too much of the atmosphere so I removed it Enjoy!
When you arrived on the colony, you had only a few things you would expect. You knew you would be married even though you had no dowry or hopes of catching a bachelor in England.
But you were terrified of your husband. You once saw a play where a woman’s father sold her to a man who humiliated her at her wedding, starved her at home, and kept her from sleeping until she was obedient to his every last whim and her voice was silenced.
So when your name was announced and the man who had purchased your voyage came forward, you were surprised to see a bright smile and kind blue eyes. Before that, you only had his name crudely yelled out.
“Mas Cas-“
“Please, call me Samuel.”
“Samuel, I am Y/N.”
Suddenly, a bit of mud went flying though the air and his maid shrieked.
Fleewwwwww!
Both of you stepped out of the way as it went, Splat! Onto the rocky ground just in front of your feet.
Catching your breath, you saw Samuel whip around his dark head to the other side.
“Benjamin!” you heard him scold.
A small red head ducked away. Before you could say a word, he walked before a young boy. Perhaps only ten. But with freckles, torn brown pants, and a toothy smile. He hid his slingshot beneath his arm. His hands were dirty, but Samuel still reached his clean hands to his and took the slingshot.
“Is that the way to treat a lady?”
The boy scoffed.
“Ladies are silly! They make a fuss when they gets dirty!”
“Benjamin, I’d rather you be nice to her…”
“Humph! But girls are boring!”
“You just haven’t met her yet!”
He took his hand and pushed him towards you.
“This is Benjamin, His father is a farmer. Benjamin, this is Y/N.”
“Let’s be friends, would you like that?” you ask.
H pouted, but then you went down to your hand and spat on it, offering it to him.
Benjamin’s eyes widened then you spat on his hand, taking yours in tandem.
“Alright, if you’re Samuel’s friend, then you’re my friend.”
He handed him the slingshot and then reached into the pocket sewn onto his cloak and pulled out a chunk of brown bread. Benjamin grabbed it and began to eat it hungrily.
“If you ever need more food, be sure to tell me,”
“Yes, Samuel! I will!” the boy said, trotting away with perhaps was all of his lunch as happy as a dog.
As you walked away, you turned your head down “I know that wasn’t very…proper of me…but I knew it would work with him.” You explained.
He laughed softly and assured you it was alright.
Once you were introduced to the home you were staying at for a bit, there was a slight knock on the door. Outside was a finely dressed woman, her brown hair in a net, with a baby. Before her walked a five year old girl and a three year old boy with flowers in their grubby hands. Breaking the formality, they ran to embrace him.
“Ah! Elizabeth! Argoll! How are you dears!”
“Good!” the little boy said.
The little girl, her hair as brown as her mothers but her eyes like bright little stars looked up at you.
“Is this her?”
“Yes!”
You turned to the woman, “I…uh…”
“Lady Yeardley, you may call me.”
“Oh, oh my…I’m so sorry!” you blurted, you should have been more respectful to the Governor’s wife.
“It’s alright! My children are fond of Master Castell and when they heard he was going to be married they begged me to visit you. This is Elizabeth, my son, Argoll, and this here” she looked down at the new baby “is little Francis.”
You grinned as you peeked at the tiny, round face beneath the white blanket and you felt Samuel lean over in curiosity to see the little one as well.
Argoll and Elizabeth handed you bright wildflowers.
“Thank you, that’s very kind!”
“Are you gonna marry Samuel?” the little girl asked boldly.
“Elizabeth! He is not your father’s-“
You interrupted, “yes, you’re right.”
“She’s pwetty, uncle Samuel!” Argoll said, eyes up at you.
You felt much less attractive today than of all days. Your hair was a mess as you struggled to put it up in a bun, you felt exhausted and dirty from months at sea, and you were sure your dress was crinkled in a few places, and you wondered how you smelled.
But he smiled genuinely.
“Yes, she is pretty,” he said sweetly.
As Lady Yeardley went over to you to ask about your voyage, you kept noticing out of the corner of your eye that wandered to where Samuel was asking Elizabeth how her writing was going along. She was bragging that she could now write the word “apple.”
The next day, once you walked out to see a bit more of the town after breakfasting with your hosts (until you were married), you were surprised to see another little girl who was on Samuel’s back as he pretended to be her horse.
“Woaaaahh! Slow down!” she ordered. “Now neigh!”
He galloped lightly and neighed and she laughed. He bent low as she crawled off of him. He stayed bent to look at her in the eyes.
“Now, Mary, will be you be good and go help your mother!”
“I will! Thank you!” she chirruped.
She gave him a rubbery kiss on the cheek as thanks and as she skipped off, he turned around to see you staring and turned the color of a raspberry.
“I…I’m so sorry. I made myself a fool…”
“No! There’s nothing to be sorry for!” you insisted, placing your hands up in defense.
“I just…I love the children here…very much. I know it’s not manly of me…” he confessed.
“I think it just shows me more of who you are. And if we’re to be married, at least I know more about you.”
He offered you his arm and you accepted it to walk together before work called him back. But you smiled wide.
“I just…I’m glad you’re here…did you rest well?” he asked.
“I did.”
“I have to introduce you to Christopher…he’s a nice man, a good friend. He’s going to be my groomsman for the wedding…”
“May I be honest?” you asked, smiling, biting back from it growing.
“What is it?”
He turned to you, brows furrowed.
“I think you’ll be a good husband…”
He blinked, almost in confusion. You then took his hands and kissed them gently.
“And I think you’ll make a wonderful father, too,” you threw in, despite the butterflies in your stomach at the words.
There wasn’t much you didn’t remember from yours and Samuel’s first meetings back in England all those months ago; he was a remarkably handsome man who intended to marry you and his kindness shone through like the sun through the clouds, he was absolutely the perfect gentleman. What you didn’t remember, however, was just how much you were attracted to him when he grew his beard out, and after last seeing him with a thing scattering of stubble along his chiselled jawline, seeing him with a lush beard when you stepped off of the boat was a little shocking. Your wobbly sea legs just about manage to take you to him with your bag of belongings, then a shy girl picks it up as soon as you’ve put it down and Samuel takes your hand to gently kiss the back of it, and you fight to stay upright and not faint in his arms.
“It feels as though I have been waiting so long for you to return to me my love,” he smiles as he gently lets go of your hand, “words cannot do justice to how happy I am right now as you stand before me almost as a mirage in the desert. Am I dreaming, or is this real?”
His words, his sweet words that were like a match to the tinder within you, lighting your soul from within and making you warm all over.
“It is certainly real Samuel,” you chuckle, “could you introduce me to your maid?”
“Of course!” he gasps, forgetting about the poor girl next to him momentarily, “(Y/N), this is Mercy; Mercy, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), soon to be Mistress Castell.”
“I’ve never had a Mistress before! I am overjoyed to meet you Miss (Y/L/N)! I-”
“Mercy,” Samuel laughs, “calm down! Why don’t you take (Y/N)’s bag back to the house and we will follow.”
“Yes, of course Sir, right away!” she nods fervently before racing ahead of you both.
“What a lovely young girl,” you sigh as you take Samuel’s arm, his forest green cloak moved to one shoulder.
“She is very sweet,” Samuel agrees, “how was your journey my dear?”
“Quite horrendous actually, I’m not feeling very well after the turbulent crossing, would it be okay for me to rest for a while when we get to your house?”
“Our house,” he corrects, “of course it would. Do you need Mercy to get you anything from the doctor? I’ll make sure she brings you some fresh water.”
“Thank you Samuel, I should be okay once my head has stopped spinning.”
He stops a few steps from the front door and turns towards you to study your face carefully then smooths your hair back from your face with a worried expression, “you are a little pale… but my goodness you are so beautiful my darling. I could stand here looking at you forever and be completely content.”
“Samuel,” you blush, looking away from his intense gaze as some colour begins to radiate throughout your cheeks, “I must confess… you are even more handsome than I remember.”
“Oh, (Y/N), I cannot wait until you are my wife,” he exhales softly, sending a shiver up your spine, “come, you must rest now.”
He leads you into the house and through to the bedroom where your bag sits on top of a stool and Mercy is unpacking your belongings while humming a sweet tune.
“Mercy, (Y/N) needs some fresh water please. She will be taking the rest of the day to recover from her tumultuous journey here.”
“Of course Master Castell,” she nods, leaving the bag and darting out of the room to fetch water.
“I shall leave you to change my love,” Samuel smiles as he finally slips his arm from yours, “I will return soon to make sure you have settled.”
“Thank you.”
A sudden urge overwhelms Samuel and with one quick look to your lips he moves towards your face slowly, his intention to kiss you clear, and you’re powerless to resist the gorgeous man so meet him half way and press your lips to his with a force that takes you by surprise. Your desperation to be near this man is evident in the way your hands slide around his back, and his own need shows in the way his hands grip onto the fabric of your dress as he pulls you into his body, pressing you as close as humanly possible while his lips claim yours as his own.
“Goodness,” you pant when the kiss eventually ends, “I certainly need to lay down after that.”
“(Y/N) you have completely captured my heart, oh how I wish I could continue kissing you,” his eyes trail down your body then back up again, “my lips against your skin, pressing themselves upon every inch of your body...”
“Samuel, please say no more my love, I do not trust that I can keep my hands to myself if you carry on with these tempting words.”
You both inhale deeply then hold the breath for a few seconds before he walks out of the room and you exhale quickly as you let your body fall back onto the bed. Mercy soon returns with a fresh pail of water and quickly gets you a cup before unlacing your bodice and setting out your night gown for you to change in to.
Samuel finds you in a deep sleep a while later and after donning his night clothes he tentatively slips in the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbow as he lays on one side so he can study your peaceful features quietly. He’d loved you since the day he saw you and being apart for such a long time had only made his love grow stronger, as did yours, and now you were here within touching distance he was even more desperate for the wedding day. Your eyes flutter open slowly to see Samuel next to you with his eyes wandering your form and you can’t help but smile as his gaze meets yours.
“How are you feeling my love?” he asks.
“Much better thank you Samuel.”
“Very good,” he smiles, “tomorrow I shall show you the rest of the settlement then we shall speak to the priest about our marriage ceremony.”
“It can’t come soon enough,” you sigh.
He leans in and kisses you gently, part of his body weight resting on your side comfortingly, and an unintentional whimper slips from your mouth into his which causes him to pull away suddenly; his urges only heightening at the sweet sound you’d just made and a tempting look at what was to come for both of you.
“I’m so sorry,” you gasp.
“Do not be sorry for making such a beautiful sound.”
A heat creeps up your cheeks as you lay together with your arms wrapped around one another’s bodies, and eventually you both fall into the most comfortable sleep either of you had had in months. The first thing you do when you wake is reach out towards Samuel’s warmth but his body is missing from the bed and you open your eyes to find that you’re alone, then Mercy pops her head around the door to check you’re awake before entering the bedroom.
“Morning Miss,” she nods, “Master Castell has gone to see the priest then to work. He said we should begin to collect flowers and make your dress for the ceremony.”
“Good morning Mercy,” you smile, “I think that is a wonderful idea he had. Do you know where we may find some fabric? I have the perfect dress but it may need some altering.”
“Yes Miss! I know the place!”
“Excellent! Then I shall dress and we will start our day!”
You and Mercy go about your day in a bubble of excitement at the prospect of the wedding ceremony and you speak to fellow towns folk as you move through the settlement, getting to know who does what around Jamestown. Samuel finishes his work for the day as you stand with Pepper and Silas Sharrow; Mercy blushing profusely every time she looks at Pepper, and you find Silas fascinating to talk to thanks to his relationship with the natives who live just outside of the land.
“My love!” Samuel announces as he nears you and places his arm around your shoulders.
“Samuel,” you smile as he tugs you close, “Silas was just informing me of the tribe who live nearby, did you know he speaks their language?!”
“I did,” Samuel nods, briefly looking at Silas who smiles down at you, “but we should return home my darling, our ceremony is to take place only two days from now!”
“It was a pleasure speaking to you Miss,” Silas nods, “I will no doubt see you at the wedding.”
“And you too Silas-” you cannot finish your sentence as Samuel marches you away from the men, leaving Mercy still swooning over Pepper for a few minutes before she finally realises you’ve left.
“Is everything okay my love?” you question when you get into the house and Samuel throws his cape over the chair with a huff.
“It’s fine,” he sighs, “I just… I cannot explain how I just felt, but seeing Silas eyeing like you like… there’s a rage burning inside me like I’ve never felt before.”
You step towards him, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to contain his feelings, then you reach out to place a hand on his torso so you can calm his emotions, and his face instantly softens as he now focuses on your loving gaze. He doesn’t even feel your fingers undoing the buttons of his coat then dipping underneath his shirt until your skin is against the thick hair that covers his chest, and you both inhale sharply at the contact.
“I’m yours,” you say, your voice thick with need before you gulp it down.
All of a sudden his lips are on yours, his hand keeping yours on his chest as he walks you back until you hit the wall, and your heart beats rapidly underneath your dress as your fingers curl against his skin, desperate for him to take you right here and now. His tongue runs along your lower lip before entering your mouth and his hips pin yours to the hard surface behind you as your free hand slides up his arm until it can rest against the side of his neck.
“Master Cast- oh!” Mercy gasps as she enters the house to see you both in the passionate embrace.
You spring apart at the sound of her, both of you panting with shock at your all consuming moment of lust that could have easily lead to a forbidden moment between the two of you if she hadn’t interrupted. There’s an awkward silence before you walk quietly into the bedroom to begin altering your dress, and Samuel rearranges his clothes before facing Mercy to see what she wants.
The next two nights are hell for the both of you as the moment of passion hangs over the two of you like a dark cloud about to strike lightning and cause a fire in your bed; Samuel does nothing to help the matter as he strokes your cheek with his light, loving touch that leaves a trail of warmth wherever he goes, and by the time your wedding ceremony comes around the sexual tension is positively visible between the both of you. Poor Mercy is ultimately relieved as she watches the priest marry you both, and she looks over to Pepper with a shy smile as she thinks about what it would be like to be so close to him.
Cheers sound out around you both as you exit the church and people throw tissue paper over the two of you as a congratulations on your vows while Samuel holds onto your hand with a vice like grip. Eventually the crowd disperses as everyone heads to the tavern for drinks, but as you go to follow them Samuel quickly tugs you back towards him with a devilish smile on his lips. You frown in question to his expression and he answers your furrowed brow with a nod towards the house; everything suddenly becoming perfectly clear as you giggle and bite gently on your lower lip. The mood is vastly different to the other day as you enter the house with joyous laughter and your hands woven together; the passion is very much there but this time you both want to savour the moment and take things slowly as Samuel shuts the world out and leads you to bed.
“You look beautiful,” he whispers softly as he tucks your hair behind your ears and dips his head down to kiss you.
You lips begin a slow dance around one another while Samuel skilfully pulls the strings of your corset free and tugs the sleeves of your dress so they fall from your arms and allow your dress to land in a puddle at your feet, only leaving your white slip covering your body. Samuel’s hands run up and down your sides, feeling his way over every curve of your body while you undo his jacket and trousers carefully, and when he stands before you in all his naked glory you have to break the kiss to take in the sight of him for a moment.
“You’re so gorgeous Samuel,” you breathe, your eyes travelling down to his large manhood.
“Will you come and lay with me my love?” he asks with a smile as he climbs onto the bed and props himself up on his side.
“Of course.”
You slip your undergarment down your body until it lands on top of your dress, then step out of the clothes that lay redundant at your feet and crawl onto the bed next to him as his eyes wander over your silky skin that he’d been yearning to see for so long. He runs the backs of his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist before he gently pushes you onto your back as his lips meet yours once more, then you feel his fingers ghost over your hip and down through the coarse hair until they eventually reach the sacred place between your legs. Samuel hooks a leg over one of yours to pull them gently apart so he can gain better access and you gasp as his fingertips run along your slit before dipping into your core slowly.
“Does that hurt my love?” he worries.
Your eyes reluctantly open to see his concerned expression hovering above you and you shake your head from side to side in response to his question before slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him back down to your waiting lips. His fingers explore deeper and you enjoy the feel of them moving back and forth inside you while you rest your free hand on his chest and let it slip down to his stiffening length, and he moans into your mouth when you wrap your fingers around it. His hips begin to move himself up and down in your grip and you then move your hand so he can lay still beside you as he deepens the kiss.
“You’re going to have to stop my darling,” he pants, “I fear the sensation is becoming too much for me.”
Your hand slowly retreats as his does the same, then he manoeuvres himself so that he’s between your legs with his broad torso above your body.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes Samuel, I’m ready for you,” you whisper back, anticipation making you shiver on the sheets.
“I love you,” he exhales as he carefully pushes his tip inside you.
“I… oh! I love you too.”
You can feel him stretching you out as he moves in deeper, a sting of pain jolting through your body until he finally stills once he’s fully immersed himself inside you, and you look up at him to see his eyes fixed on your hand that bunches the bed sheet up.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it’s just a little painful.”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead, “I’m so sorry my love, it will pass, I promise.”
You take the still moment to link your fingers at the back of his neck and hold him to your face as you kiss passionately, your body wriggling a little to find a comfortable position and your legs bending as you bring them up to spread them further. The feel of his erect member laying inside you eventually becomes more bearable and gives way to a full sensation that feels completely natural, as if he was made for you and only you, then you lift your hips a little from the bed and he begins to move. As he slides almost all of the way out of you there’s a sense of relief, and when he buries himself back inside your core the pain comes back again but only temporarily this time thanks to his distracting kiss. Eventually your bodies fall into a steady rhythm with one another and the pain gives way to some sort of pleasure that you’d never felt before, your arousal evident by how wet the sounds become as they fill the space around you, and the moans that transfer from your mouth to Samuel’s and back again get steadily louder as his thrusts increase in speed.
“(Y/N),” Samuel pants, “oh my dear (Y/N).”
You attempt to continue the kiss but your lips miss and land on his cheek instead, then he tucks his head into your neck as the sweat on your bodies begins to bead and roll down your skin, and you feel his lips and teeth grazing your jaw as he attempts to speak.
“Samuel!” you cry out as his hips suddenly move faster than ever before.
Your fingers dig into his back as you hold him against your heaving chest and as you carefully run your nails down his spine he lets out one almighty cry of your name before a warmth begins to seep onto the sheets by your buttocks. A loud gasp leaves your mouth as he pulls out suddenly then you watch as he backs down the bed and leans in between your legs until his face connects with your swollen lips. You repeat his name over and over again, unable to say anything else as your mind becomes blank at the feel of his tongue working on a small nub you never even knew you had, and the sheer pleasure it gives you is enough to make you shudder in waves until you feel yourself tightening up to an almost uncomfortable degree before your muscles let go and you let out a high pitched screech at the sudden pleasure that takes over your entire body.
“Sam- Samuel…!” you stutter as you feel your insides pulsing.
He quickly crawls up your body with a smile and captures your lips before you can utter another word, your entire being now belonging to him for the rest of your days.
Hi love, I was wondering if you could do Samuel Castell getting possessive over his little darling please
&
Im’a just go ahead and request soft smut with Samuel because damn wouldn’t that man be the most caring and loving in bed, calling you “my love” and treating you like a Queen, especially during your first time together right after you’re married
Songbird of Jamestown Chapter Seven (Samuel Castell x fem! Reader)
Chapter One// Chapter Two // Chapter Three// Chapter Four// Chapter Five/ Chapter Six
Word Count: 5K
Summary: You arrived to the colony of Jamestown hoping for a better life than your previous one. Your own talents and friendships gain you allies...and enemies. But falling in love with the recorder has landed you in danger from his scheming intended. You love him but...what will you risk?
A/N: It took forever but here it is! Enjoy!
Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated!!
Warnings: None, other than a touch of angst and mentions of smoking and drinking, but plenty of fluff! Enjoy!
A long night of thinking always calls for a pipe.
Pulling out his long pipe, Samuel took out a spare piece of paper and began to write down everything as he sat down at his desk. It was dark and cicadas chirruped beyond his walls. Sometimes he heard a faint noise from Mercy as she slept. Blissfully unaware. Once her eyes would open, the poor girl would have to adapt quickly. But he had to adapt now.
He pulled a bit of flint and lit the fire for his pipe. He smoked as he thought deeply. Staring at the words on the paper before him.
A bit of smoke went past his nose as he considered what he read.
How could Y/N be kept safe at all…
Could she be sent to live in the other town without having to marry anyone?
But that was the point of staying- she chose to stay here. To not give up the life she had in the main town. And that was what Jocelyn tried to do in the first place.
Find someone here to marry her.
Perhaps marrying another man would be better. Helpful. Wiser. But his stomach turned sour and the back of his eyes burned at the thought. Maybe it was selfish. But that idea of some man- like the blacksmith, or Christopher or anyone sweeping her off her feet and carrying her away was unreal. He kept blinking to remind himself that the image of such a marriage was not real. What was real was that moment they had in the woods. He felt himself blush at the memory. Her lips and how they matched his. The way she smiled. How soft she felt when she embraced him and how he could feel her heart pick up during the second kiss.
So no, sending her to another man was not an option that he could live with.
He dipped his quill into ink again and wrote down a few more ideas.
Could Jocelyn be reported?
There was no evidence to report other than Y/N’s word. Mercy would never blame Jocelyn for anything and would never believe that her beloved mistress poisoned her. Doctor Priestly knew his poison was missing, and the symptoms. But there was no proof Jocelyn took it. And she would get rid of the poison or put it back.
What if there was a trial? At best, she would be imprisoned for her actions. But Jocelyn was mercurial, she could charm people. She was on good terms with the Governor. She nearly seduced him minutes ago.
But at worst, he would be punished for spreading falsehoods. Jocelyn would be unscathed. And she could get away to do to Y/N whatever she wanted to do
Hire a soldier to protect Y/N?
It might look silly, but it was worth it. Though people might ask questions. The solider himself didn’t have to talk if paid properly. No matter how expensive it might be, he had to have Y/N safe. Anything. Anything that would make her safe. Please God, keep her safe.
But…how long would the soldier last?
The money would run out eventually. Then the soldier would run away, and his darling would be vulnerable.
Vulnerable unless someone was there. Someone who could always be there. The solider was the best choice but…there was one more option to consider.
Hardly leaving your house, you were scared to go anywhere or do anything alone. You made your choice and your fate would be sealed.
You didn’t know what method Jocelyn was planning. You only knew you had to defy it somehow. And even though you had to settle for life as a hermit in the colony, you were alive.
What choice had you? Who knew what Jocelyn would do and how she would act next Except for church, you could hardly go anywhere. You knew the second you were alone, it meant danger. Somehow. Even the walk to church and back, your eyes were peeled around everywhere, and you walked quickly. When you entered the house, you slammed the door shut. Pressing your back against it, you started panting. Then you slid down to your floor.
Stomach rumbling with hunger, you only took a few bites of your safe bread and drank a bit of goat’s milk. It didn’t stop the rumbling. But you didn’t want to risk anything. No food you ate felt entirely safe. After the milk hit your stomach you waited. Nothing happened, and you exhaled deeply.
Perhaps… there was one way. A way to have protection after all. But there was something you would need. Even if you did die, you knew it would not be in vain. You would beat her at her own game.
You had to do something. Fast. You had to make friends here. Allies. And powerful ones.
That afternoon as soon as the second church service was done, you looked for the tall brown head of Lady Yeardley. She always carried her Bible with her clutching as tight as if it were a shield. But her grip loosened as she noticed your polite curtsy and called her name.
“Oh, Y/N, what is it?”
Her husband chatted away with the minister. Oblivious.
“I…I would like to wonder since you are the most devoted woman out here in all our colony…what are ways I can be closer to God?” you asked, eyeing the book.
“Well, prayer, devotion, and reading of scripture daily…Y/N, your devotion to your faith is admirable. Even if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, my child, you can move mountains,” she answered kindly. Her eyes warmed to you.
“I just…I have…. I have so many fears and worries, I would like to find some comfort and peace with God. Since no one else here is a better Christian lady then you, I just…wondered how you have such peace?” you flattered, tucking away a loose strand of hair.
“Cast all your cares unto Him, and all will be well. Well, I make sure to just practice. Each morning, I rise at five to read and study my bible… you may join me if you’d like.”
Glancing away, you saw no blonde head walking around near you.
“Really?” you replied.
“Yes! We can read and pray together, discuss what the scripture is saying. Also…do you remember the old hymns from England?”
“Most of them, my lady,” you answered obediently.
“You could sing a few! I’ve just missed them terribly during church,” she said.
“Me as well! I…” you say, putting on your brightest smile you could muster, “yes…I will see you the next morning! I look forward to it.”
Yes, you would find comfort in praying. Exchanging a bit of sleep and your song for Lady Yeardley’s friendship would be worth it. And if the wife was affectionate of you, then the husband would be. You would have allies. You would be safe. And that was worth having to get up with the roosters.
Hurrying home, you caught your breath as soon as the door shut. There was another plan in store.
You ran up to your books and looked through the pages, finding two that were bare enough. You hated to ruin such lovely things, but you had no choice. It was your books or your life. Looking up the right words, you drew them in the air and then practiced writing them all over in the small corners.
The writing was memorized in your hands and mind now.
Looking among your things you found a small wooden chest. Only fit your lace gloves were in there, your one luxury. The paper would fit perfectly.
So far, you would write only two. The bare minimum.
You wrote carefully, making sure each word would be understandable. There was fire beneath your borrowed quill.
Yes…I borrowed it from Mercy…she must have gotten it from…
Shaking the thought away, you pulled yourself back to focus. The words seemed perfectly readable.
Looking around and seeing no face was peeking through your window, you began to blow it dry. Then after a bit of settling, you folded it up and placed it in the wooden box.
Then the next morning you headed over to the Sharrow’s farm. Although you yawned from the early hours and your voice was a little hoarse from a bit of early hymn singing (Even though Lady Yeardley did adore it and coo over you like a proud aunt), it was lovely to see the orange sky peep over the horizon as it settled on the tobacco field. You knew farmers kept early hours. She would be there.
Alice was blooming as much as the tobacco plants in the field before the farm. She touched them with tenderness, feeling them grow because of her. Her hair was tied back and she wore an apron that seemed a little dirty, but she looked as grand as any princess. She was smiling as she watered them. It seemed the ghost of her torture had gone away. Just for a moment.
“Pardon me…” you greeted, moving closer to her.
She ran up to embrace you, cheeks flushing.
“Y/N! I’ve been so busy! Oh, how are you?” she asked.
Nodding, you peeked over your shoulder and saw no sign of anyone listening. Then continued.
“I’m well! At least for now…but I came here because I have something for you…” you announced
You brought forth the small wooden box.
“Why, what’s in it?” she asked, she pulled the lid open until your hands shot forth and shut it closed.
“No! Alice! You can’t see what’s inside! I’m giving this to you because…”
Walking closer, you lowered your voice.
“I think I’m going to die. I’m in danger.”
“Danger? But why- who?” she asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.
“I cannot tell you.”
“Why?”
“It’s not safe to tell you, not if you still want protection from…. but…if something should happen to me…if I die, and not of illness, open this box. Hide it so no one but you know where it is. If I die, open it. Tell people it was from me. But you are not to look at it unless something should happen, do you understand!” you order, looking right into her eyes.
There was a pause. The robins and sparrows chattered around you. There were footsteps from the house.
She nodded. “Yes, I promise, Y/N.”
“Good…I can breathe a little easier,” you said.
Once you returned home, you began to write in the second free piece of paper. Trying to keep the letters small, the more papers, the better.
You thought there was the sound of hoofbeats outside. But you shrugged it off. That is until there was a sudden knock on the door that surprised you so much that the ink jolted in your hand as you signed it.
Your dress or apron was too obvious a hiding place. Scurrying, you took off your left stocking and placed it inside. If it was your moment of death, then it was a place where she could never suspect anything.
“I’m coming,” you called out as you slid your feet over the paper and put on your stocking and shoe again.
But running up to answer it, you saw it was not Jocelyn.
“S-Sa-M-Master Castelll! Hello! What brings you here!” you greeted. It was better to not call him by his first name in a place where someone could hear you. Keeping an illusion of polite distance.
He was dressed in a side cape that flowed over his left shoulder and was brightly patterned. You felt embarrassingly poor. He stepped a little closer as did you. But you stopped. As much as you craved it, in public was no place to embrace. No matter how handsome he looked that day. Eyes downward, you found your face growing hot. It seemed he was like the sun and if you stared at him directly you would go blind from daring.
But your eyes flickered to behind him where a tall brown horse stood right behind him.
“Did you…did you ride here?” you asked in disbelief.
He looked behind to see the horse and turned back to you nodding.
“Yes, Y/N! I know I could walk, but…can you ride as well! There’s someplace I’d like to show you- and it’s much better to ride than walk there. It’s a bit of a long way away! But can you ride a horse? If so, I’ll bring you one!” he offered.
“Uh, no!” you reply quickly, shaking your head.
“Hm, doesn’t matter! I’ll keep you on, tight!”
“Wait, what?”
“Please, come with me! My horse is gentle! You have to see this place!” he begged, eyes bright and pleading.
It was better than another hour alone and doing nothing out of fear.
“I…uhm, alright,” you agreed.
Walking forward, you felt his hands go to your waist and hoist you up so your feet could be secured. It made you nervous to feel how he was making sure you were safely on by pushing you up and tightening on.
You were securely on the horse, astride as you have noticed ladies ride them, with both of your legs on one side. Though feeling the creature breathe beneath you was a touch unsettling. A wrong move and it would knock you over.
He climbed up on the horse as easily as walking, making sure the cape was on one side. Clicking his tongue, he put the reigns in his hands and the horse trotted off. He was so close you could almost make out his pulse and his pleasant smell. But as you passed a few townsfolk, you had to hide your face in slight embarrassment, biting back your tongue to scold him from riding with you in public.
There were a few funny looks- who even knew. The Recorder riding off with some woman that not his fiancée.
Once the town was out of sight, the horse did a slow gallop over on a path where trees passed by, shading you from the hot Virginia sun.
“What do you think of riding, Y/N?”
“It’s…it’s thrilling! Is it always safe?”
“When you’re careful. And my horse has a gentle soul, I told you.”
As you passed a small clearing, you petted his mane gently. You heard him brush a little in appreciation.
“Would you like to hold the reigns? For a bit?”
“Yes!”
You hold onto the leather, feeling him hand them over to you. It felt incredible to have that control. To suddenly travel fast to wherever you wanted to go.
“There it is-right straight ahead…you can lead us there.”
You kept the reigns steady, moving it a little for the horse to keep forward.
The horse reached another clearing. For a while, he picked up the pace and you gripped the reigns to hold on. There was a beautiful wide sky above you and a field with a path and grass growing high enough that bees did not strain to float above it. There were a few trees that went by you as you both rode, ducking your heads under branches that were stretching down. You noticed a few plants that had little blooms passed you, a few of their puffs and petals blowing in the wind. It was a universe of emerald all around you. As the grass shortened, you saw one tobacco field that was still full of dirt and sweaty men in brown hats plowing it.
Then you came upon another large tobacco field. Only the plants in bloom in this one. The sun was peeking and disappearing beneath large, white clouds. There were no workers. They almost looked like large leaves of spinach from the ground. Already you could smell them.
“Y/N…these are some of our tobacco fields. Have you ever seen them before?” he asked.
“I have not!” you respond, looking around.
Your head tilted, but you didn’t dare crane your neck too far. Anything that would make you fall. But his hands replaced yours on the reigns. Feeling his arms were around you made your breath feel short.
“What do you think?”
“It’s…it’s huge!”
Why would he want to show you a tobacco field, though? The size, you admit it, was impressive. Maybe if you planted your own, you could get some form of money. Protection. Freedom.
“That’s not even all of it. Some people plant their own, like the Sharrows. But here-here is the heart of our tobacco, where most of us keep ours,” he explained.
“Whose tobacco does all this belong to? Do they…divide it?” you asked curiously.
He smiled and then lifted his arm to point to a certain direction.”
“The Governor’s tobacco is over there north. Most people have at least a little tobacco. Farlow’s is to the east…”
“Do you have any?” you asked.
He prompted his horse to walk forward slightly. You saw a little brown sign around there and could read his last name carved onto the wooden sign.
“This is mine,” he announced.
Turning around to him he smiled gently.
“I began planting it the day I arrived. I was the youngest son of a family with nothing to offer youngest sons, Y/N. I came here to have a new start. A new life. And I chose to invest in some tobacco. That’s what the company is making money off of, that’s a way I could have financial security. Far more than I would in England without being dependent my family’s help.”
He got off the horse, helping you as you climbed out.
You felt yourself smiling.
“That’s very good, Samuel. I’m proud of you. You’ve saved things. And it seems you’ve worked hard. You’ve done so much for this community, for everyone. I can see it.” you praise, looking at it.
“Do you know how much tobacco I have?” he asked.
“No, I don’t.”
“250 pounds right now,” he answered. “It’s enough…more than enough, even.”
You folded your arms, looking at it. The sun was hiding behind a cloud and you no longer had to squint. There was silence. You heard the horse whinny behind you at a bug that buzzed by him. Turning around, you saw him only looking at you, still smiling his same smile, but with something behind it.
“Enough for…for what?” you questioned, shrugging.
Suddenly you knew how much 150 pounds could buy a man and you froze.
“Why…why are you telling me this? What’s happening?” you asked, you felt a rush. Your muscles were tense as if ready to flee. It was like hope, but too good, too good to be true. It was false. This had to be false.
“Y/N…I know you want me to help you, and I think, to…to keep you safe…” He looked down at his hands and then turned his head up.
“Would you like me to become your husband?” he asked.
You freeze. The words seem to echo in your ear. Your hands reach up and catch yourself, nearly dizzy from the shock. He leaned over and took your hand to steady you
“What? But you’re engaged! You can’t take another wife, it’s illegal!” you cried.
“I broke if off three nights ago after you told me what she did to Mercy…” he said, leaning down to look you in the eye.
“Wha-How? Is that illegal?” you gasped.
“No. I already paid the company early for Jocelyn. Now she’s here and they have their money. The governor gave his consent for a quiet annulment. Honestly, the company won’t care if she’s married if they have the money…I was thinking…”
He cupped your cheek and you leaned on it, your hand on top of his.
“This is the way you could be kept safe. You would have my constant protection. No need to check the food. Because I will always try it. I or Mercy would always be by your side. And I’m going to hire a soldier to guard you and…I remember you said that you loved me…do you still love me?”
His voice softened. You found yourself tearing up, jaw open from the feeling of sudden, extreme happiness.
“I-I do,” you answered, your voice breaking.
“Then we could be together…would you…would you like that? Let me be plain…”
He took both of your hands, speaking with a docile voice.
“Y/N, would you like to marry me?”
Tears dotted your eyelids, sobbing but with happiness. You reached a hand up to wipe it away, finding smiling almost aching your face
“I wouldn’t marry any other man in all the world but you. Y-yes!” you choked out, embracing him.
He scooped you up into a hug, picking you up and turning around your skirt flying. Hidden with the tall green leaves and solitude of the plants, you began to laugh a little. He placed his hands on your face and you both kissed, eyes closing with the pleasure of feeling it. When you let go, you both opened your eyes, but his hands were still on your face.
He cupped your face.
“You! You-You’ll be my wife!”
You kissed the right hand that was holding you.
“And you’ll be my husband, the best of husbands in all creation,” you confirmed.
Both of you walked for a while, somewhat closer to the trees. But holding hands. Enjoying a bit of touching, innocent touching, that could still be permitted. Smiling, enjoying the moment. And the fields, rolling on forever into the horizon where the sun was starting to fade. Where anything was possible now.
“When will be a good date…I’m just worried what…about what people will think of…”
“How could anyone think that?”
“I was Jocelyn’s maid not long ago…” you reminded him.
The air soured from her name and the memory.
“We will think of a date…”
“We can’t wait too long. The company might want to send me away to get married. I…I’ve heard of it happening,” you added.
He pulled you into a slight hug, “it will be okay…it all will be.”
He scooped you up and placed you back on the horse, passing the fields and woods. Once you rode into town, you felt you could sprout wings. Yet to your surprise, he passed by where you lived, heading straight to the Governor’s house.
“Governor Yeardley!” he called out, the cheeriness in his voice could not be contained.
To your surprise, he held onto your waist as he helped you off and you were giddy at the feeling of his hands on you in public.
The governor walked out the door. Nearby you heard a gasp and your head looked to your left. Mercy walk by with a small bucket of water. She seemed as healthy as before, hardly a sign of poisoning.
Samuel held onto your hand. He raised it up pridefully as in a dance.
“Master, master…what’s going on! What is she-oh goodness, I’m so sorry, governor…” Mercy began, her white-capped head turning into a polite curtsy.
He raised his hand with a kind smile, “no, child, you’re alright…”
“Governor, I would like to ask for your consent and your blessing to marry this woman,” Samuel announced, gesturing to you.
“Marry!” Mercy blurted, eyes large.
Governor Yeardley’s eyes squinted as he looked at you. Part of you shied away, hiding a little behind his arms. Maybe he noticed your apron versus the richness of Samuel’s cloak and came to conclusions.
“Yes, may I, Governor?” he repeated.
“Do you have 150 pounds of tobacco for her?” he asked, arms crossing.
“I do.”
“And has she consented? I can’t allow one of the maids to marry a man against her will,” he said.
You stepped forward bravely.
“I…I have,” You replied.
“Then I don’t see why not! When will the wedding be?”
Both of you sighed out, looking at each other, grinning wide in relief.
“I think…next Wednesday I believe. Not too soon to prepare, but not too late for the company,” you said. “Is that alright?”
“It is fine by me,” Samuel responded. He almost seemed to glow with joy.
Governor Yeardley nodded.
“Alright, Master Castell- bring your check and promise the company representative and you will be clear that this maid is purchased for your hand,” He informed.
Heart fluttering, you threw in another word.
“When’s the latest it can be brought?” you asked.
“After the wedding. After that and your fiancée will be in debt,” he informed.
Fiancée. You looked at him again, the word so new and pouring in your mind still. Fiancée. Fiancée. He is my fiancée! You thought.
“It will be that morning, then. Can it?” Samuel asked.
“Then, that morning, Y/N, I will write a check to the company, if that is what you would like.”
“It is,” you informed.
“Well then, Master Castell- come in and have a quick drink with me to celebrate!” Governor Yeardley praised, his hand going over his shoulder and patting it.
“I’ll be out soon, stay here with Mercy,” he promised.
As the men chatted inside. Mercy went up to you, setting her bucket down.
“You’re marrying the master! But…what of Mistress Woodbyrg? He can’t keep two wives!” she commented.
“She’s…she’s no longer engaged. He broke it off with her…” you told her.
Fists tightening, you hoped maybe one day, she would know the truth. But not now.
“Oh but a wedding! A wedding! All that work to be done!”
She began pacing, counting all the chores on her fingers, but her smile still present.
“All the cooking, ribbons to tie-and lots of cleaning too, but there will be cakes! And-and the ladies toss flowers! I’ll need to pick some flowers. And maybe there will be some music! And there’s clothes and such to be picked but…”
“Mercy, I can help you, if you’d like!” you suggested, leaning forward. Yet she almost backed away from you, a little surprised at the closeness.
She stopped her excited monologue to gaze at you.
“I’ll have another mistress. I remember when…when you were kind to me that day. And when you told me you were a servant for the mistress…and now she’s out and you’re my mistress!” she gasped
“Yes. I…I can’t believe it either…I’ve never had a servant either…” you confessed awkwardly. Mercy kept blinking and you felt her eyes look around and all over you.
“I just hope I can live up to your standards of a mistress, Mercy…”
“You’re not the one to be afraid, Y/N, Miss, oh! I don’t even know what to call you now!”
The door clicked open and the men were out, Samuel turned to you and took both of your hands smiling.
“Mercy, I see you’ve met your new mistress…” he started.
“But what of Miss Woodbyrg? Would it not break her heart, sir, if I may be bold?” she asked.
He showed no reaction, his body only stiffened.
“While you were sick, I called it off.”
“Why? Pardon my questioning?”
“Because…because we were not fit to be together, I learned. And she did not want to marry me. I decided to spare us from pain,” He told flatly.
He walked over, placing both hands on your shoulders fondly, softly.
“Y/N is a kind-hearted lady and you will not find anyone better. You’ve met before. You know what she is like. Since she is going to be my wife, from now on you are to watch her…and guard her every bit like your old mistress, can you?” he ordered.
“I… I can,” Mercy answered, she bobbled her head up and down in a rush.
He offered you his arm and boldly he kissed your cheek. Despite the slight flush of embarrassment, you were excited to be so affectionate with him in front of people.
“It will be here sooner than we think…I’m thrilled.” He cheered, walking over to his house.
A few dogs and pigs trotted by. There was smoke from some home fires inside and you heard the clang of James work nearby. People passed by and you immediately tensed when they saw you.
“I am too,” you muttered.
“I have half an hour before I must go to work. Is there anything you would like, Y/N? We need to...get more used to being a couple.”
A couple. The words rolled off his mouth so easily.
“I…I’m hungry, do you have any food at your house?” you asked.
“Darling, of course” he turned pink at the sound and you held back a small giggle at the word.
He led you to his house and Mercy fixed a small plate for you.
“Wait!” you cried, pushing it away. “Is it…is it safe?”
He took his fork and ate pieces of each food before you dared do it. After a bit of time passed, he nodded at you. Then you began to stuff yourself boldly. It was so long since you could eat without fear.
“Here, have some water…” he offered, passing a cup.
Gulping it down, you almost wanted to cry from how nice it was to eat and not be afraid. Though Mercy gawked at you. What lady ate like this?
“Do you feel better?” he asked.
“Much better,” you answered.
He went to his desk and returned with a few items behind his back. He grinned like a schoolboy.
“I have this for you- a love token! If you don’t mind.” He said. “For the dear flower of my life.”
From his hand was a small silver token- a flower in the shape of a daffodil. You gasped and held it in your hand. It was small and light enough that maybe it could go on your clothes.
“Thank you! It’s wonderful! I feel like a real lady!” you responded.
“You’ve always been a true lady, Y/N,” he answered, seeing it in your hand.
Glancing over to the desk, you saw a wealth of books and paper. More than enough than you would need. Even with the marriage coming up, you had to be sure. And now that you were engaged to him…maybe it would add fuel to Jocelyn’s fire and an even bigger target on your back. Your plan could still not be tossed away.
“And Samuel… may I have some paper? And ink and quills? I want to practice writing more…” you asked.
If you had to risk death for such happiness, you needed to take further steps and not just with Alice. Whatever it took to feel like this again. To know even if you died, you would not die voiceless.
Taglist: @stardust-killer-queen @queenlover05 @itsametaphorgwil @grigorlee @bluesfortheredj @isitstraightvodka @rhapsodyrecs (for cheering me for going to revising when the first draft winded me out) @itscale @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @rubystarflight @theworksgaga @theoneandonlyeclecticepileptic @theoneandonlyeclecticepilepic
The two of you walk through the gates with beaming faces, your arm linked through his as you rest your cheek on his shoulder, but your joy soon turns to concern as you see the crowds that had gathered in the middle of the settlement, and the pained cries that call out after the sound of leather against skin make you wince each time you hear them. Samuel’s free hand comes up and holds your face against his arm to prevent you from seeing anything, but Redwick is quick to spot the two of you and halt you in your tracks.
“You’re missing it! Come with me, I’ll take you to the front of the crowd!” he declares, grabbing Samuel’s arm and dragging you both through the throng of people.
“I thought this would start tomorrow,” Samuel states to a joyous Marshal.
“There’s no time like the present dear Samuel! Don’t you want to see the man behind your dear wife’s attack punished? And Mistress Castell, do you not want to see him get what he deserves for launching such an atrocious man upon you? What if it had gone awry and he had not intervened in time? You could be dead.”
You look up at Samuel, unable to turn to face the source of the anguished groans coming from only a short distance away, but Redwick walks around to you and forcefully turns your head to meet James’ pleading gaze which is directed straight at you; the Marshal’s large fingers hurting your jaw as he holds you in place.
“Let her go!” Samuel snaps, then quickly pulls you away from everyone and through the crowd back to your house where Mercy waits on the step with tears in her eyes.
“Oh Mercy,” you sigh, “come inside, don’t listen to what’s happening dear girl.”
You skip ahead of Samuel to take her in your arms and lead her back into the dwelling so she can no longer hear the grunts and whips that alternate outside, then sit her down on a chair and make her some tea to ease her fragile mind.
“I’ll do that Mistress Castell, I don’t want to be a bother, you need to rest, I-”
“Mercy, it’s tea,” you smile, “I can manage to make tea.”
Samuel stands with his back against the door as he looks on at you bustling around to make sure Mercy is okay, and his face falls at the spectacle that was happening outside your four walls. Just as you’d received the good news that you wouldn’t be the first couple in Jamestown to give birth, you’re faced with the utterly horrid sight of James facing his punishment earlier than agreed, and Redwick just had to rub your faces in it for his own enjoyment.
“Samuel, you look worried my love,” you frown after handing Mercy her drink.
You place your hands upon his cheeks to focus his distant stare on your eyes and he gives you a half hearted smile as he lifts his arms and takes a hold of yours gently.
“Are you not worried?” he questions quietly.
“Of course I am. James is out there being beaten because of me. How could I not worry? I’m the one who put him in this position, I deserve to be punished for it.”
“No you don’t,” he says, shaking his head from side to side.
“Maybe I do though…” you gasp, realising that maybe if you stood by as witness to what was happening to James, no matter how much it pained you to watch, then maybe you’d be forgiven, “Samuel, I have to see him. If I do this then we could be free from hurt, and our sins would be forgiven.”
“Are you feeling quite well my love?” he asks with concern furrowing his brow.
“I feel as if I need to do this Samuel, do you trust me?”
“Implicitly sweetheart.”
“Then I must go and see him until his punishment is over,” you nod, mostly to yourself.
“(Y/N), I-” Samuel starts, but you’ve already moved past him and slipped out of the gap in the front door before he can get another word out.
You slowly push your way to the front of the crowd, your eyes turned down to the ground as you try and prepare yourself for what you were about to witness, and then when you no longer see feet in front of you, you manage to lift your gaze towards the origin of those awful noises you were hearing. There stood James with his eyes trained on you straight away, his body convulsing each time he’s hit with the whip, and you watch as he tries to mouth something to you.
“Come to see the bad man get what he deserves?” Jocelyn asks smugly from beside you.
“I’ve come to face my own punishment,” you reply softly.
“Your punishment for what?”
“Acting upon unlawful feelings for another man.”
“Ha!” she laughs, “power is what I want, not a man. Samuel was nothing more to me than a step up in the ranks, but he didn’t even have the balls for that so I simply couldn’t live like that anyway.”
“So why the assault in the woods? Why get me to feed you information?”
“I thought it would be a fun little game. I mean, you were in the wrong, but you didn’t have to know that I didn’t care just yet...”
You briefly turn your head to see her haughty expression as she takes in the sight of James being punished with a smile, and you frown as you turn back to the poor man.
“And this was my idea anyway,” she sighs, “such a shame he got found out.”
“What?”
“I told him that to try and steal your affections back he must make a bold statement, save your life or something to make you fall into his arms. It was almost too easy to convince him, he was so desperate for you I actually almost felt sorry for him.”
“You really are something else, aren’t you?” you scoff, “so who’s your target now then?”
“Dear Christopher seems sweet on me, and as a Doctor he would know more than most when it came to the men who control this settlement. I could use that to my advantage.”
Your eyes convey your worry that he would let slip information about you, but Jocelyn simply waves her hand dismissively and laughs.
“Don’t worry, you and Samuel have done your jobs for me, I only have interest in them now,” she says, nodding towards where Redwick, the Governor, and Farlow, “they hold the key to power.”
“Were you hoping this would happen to James then? To gain the trust of Redwick?”
“Oh, she’s clever, too!” Jocelyn gasps, “of course. I tell James what to do, James gets found out, and the dear Marshal over there gets what he wants… Thanks to me.”
“Congratulations,” you mutter.
“So I wouldn’t worry about punishing yourself by watching James all day, as you have nothing to be punished for. Just look at me, I seem to be doing fine!” she laughs before walking away into the crowd again.
The sound of the whipping suddenly stops as the man carrying out the punishment pauses to change hands and take a sip of water, and you hear James ask if he may have a drop himself but all he receives is a laugh as the man puts a cup just out of reach. You’re quick to run forwards and pick it up so you can tip some moisture into his mouth as you wipe some of the dirt from his sweat covered face with your handkerchief.
“Why did you come back?” he whispers.
“I… don’t know,” you lie, shaking your head and feeling thoroughly stupid.
“Your sweet face is the only thing getting me through this (Y/N), but please leave, go back to Samuel, you must not be witness to such- ah! Go!” he cries as the whipping resumes.
You jump back from him in shock as the punishment suddenly continues and you stand with the crowd, your eyes wandering over to where Jocelyn now stood talking to Marshal Redwick, obviously telling him of her scheming in hopes of forming some sort of alliance so she can further climb the ladder of Jamestown. It all goes awfully though as Redwick laughs in her face while he tells her to leave him alone, and she purses her lips before storming off in a huff, which you can’t help but smile at. A dull ache in your abdomen reminds you that you were already facing some sort of wrath from the powers above, and as your mind wanders to what would happen if you were to die while you back away from the sight of James, you’re suddenly stopped by the Governor’s wife who appears beside you with a breathless pant.
“Mistress Castell,” she breathes rather urgently, “have you heard of Alice Sharrow’s news?!”
“I have!” you beam, “it’s wonderful isn’t it?”
“It’s a miracle,” she sighs happily, “the first child of Jamestown! Oh, how the people will love them.”
“It will certainly bring joy to the settlement.”
“And it shouldn’t be too long until you have your own news to share,” she smiles, “family is so very important, and we need to lay our roots down.”
“I’d be honoured to carry Samuel’s child,” you nod, “and to have a family of our own would bring me so much happiness.”
“You look a little pale Mistress Castell, do make sure you’re keeping well especially if you are planning to have a baby. Maybe see Doctor Priestley to make sure everything is okay? How about I come with you?” she suggests, trying to take over your whole body it seems.
“I will make sure I go with Samuel,” you smile as politely as you can muster, “thank you for your concern.”
“Good… good! Have a good day.”
“And you!”
You walk back to the house and enter the door with a faint smile playing on your lips as you think about the Governor’s wife and how controlling she was, then you notice Samuel and Christopher sitting in a now solemn silence at the table with their heads turned and focused on you.
“Are you okay my love?” you gasp, rushing towards Samuel and taking his head in your hands as you examine his face carefully.
“I am fine,” he sighs, placing his hands over yours and bringing one of them to his mouth so he can kiss your palm, “we’re just… we…” tears prick his eyes as he struggles to finish his sentence, and Christopher takes over.
“We were discussing any procedure that might have to happen if your situation were to worsen and I’d have to intervene.”
“What would it entail?” you ask quietly.
“I would have to make an incision-”
“This is not for her ears, Christopher,” Samuel hisses.
“No, I need to hear what will happen,” you say as you move away from Samuel and lean against the wall.
“I would make an incision in your abdomen to reach through to your kidney where I would then need to make a hole big enough to fit my equipment in and remove each stone one by one before sewing you up again. You will pass out from the pain of it eventually, and there is a high risk of infection afterwards. I have not done this sort of procedure before… and if you were to still be with child then I fear the baby would not survive due to the trauma inflicted upon your body,” he explains calmly.
Your legs begin to shake beneath your weight and before you know what’s happening you’ve slid down the wall and landed on the floor as the colour drains from your face.
“(Y/N)!” Samuel gasps, dropping to his knees to help you.
“I’m fine,” you whisper unconvincingly, “I’m fine.”
Christopher twists a rag then places it across your mouth just before you bite down to secure it in place and muffle your pained screams while you hold Samuel’s hand with a vice like grip, and he worries as he looks down at your pale and sweaty face. Your knees are high in the air, your bottom half free of any covering as your night dress sits crumpled at your waist, and every now and again Christopher leans to the side to check the progress of the baby’s head; it was all very undignified but necessary that he was here due your increasingly worrisome kidney stones. Samuel’s eyes dart around from your face to between your legs, then to Christopher’s face for some kind of reassurance that everything was okay, but all he sees is more worry mirrored at him and he squeezes your hand intermittently to make sure you know he’s still there. Your pants sound like growls as they travel around the cloth in your mouth but at least when you cry out in pain as the baby moves further out of you the sound is slightly softened, even if it is no less disturbing to all those who can hear.
You spit the cloth out of your mouth, “I can’t… I can’t do it…” you groan, shaking your damp head from side to side in turmoil.
“You’re doing so well my love, they’re almost here!” Samuel encourages, “just a while longer, and then it will be over I promise.”
“Please...” you beg breathlessly as another contraction washes over you, “please!”
Samuel reluctantly places the rag back in your mouth as your body readies and as you put your chin down onto your chest and push with all your might you let out one long grunt until finally you hear the sounds of crying from between your thighs, then Christopher fusses with the baby until he lifts it over your knees and places it gently on your chest with a smile.
“A healthy baby boy,” he grins, looking between you and Samuel, “my sincerest congratulations to you both.”
The saliva sodden rag that had just been in your mouth sits at your side and dampens your nightdress as you look down in wonder at your little boy, and just as Christopher helps you to deliver the rest of the birth you gasp as a pain emanates from your side, and you quickly hand your baby to Samuel.
“Christopher, is this normal?” you wince as you writhe around in pain.
“Uh… no… everything went as planned and I can only assume this is your kidney. I feared this would happen after your body has been through such an event. Samuel, I need your help.”
“Wait,” you gasp, grabbing onto Samuel’s forearm and leaning over to see the baby, “mummy loves you so much, my beautiful little boy, you’re so perfect. Daddy will look after you,” you kiss his head gently as a tear falls down your cheek, then you nod for Samuel to take the boy to Mercy while Christopher opens up his bag and gets the instruments ready.
“How is the pain now?” he asks, holding up his scalpel.
“Worse… it’s getting worse…”
Samuel returns, wiping his eyes with his palms, then he unbuttons his jacket and hangs it over the back of his chair as he prepares for something he never thought he’d have to do. You pick up the old piece of cloth yourself and bite down on it so as not to scare Mercy next door, but in this case it’s almost completely useless as your screams pass the fabric and fill the room with a deafening tone. Samuel looks away for a moment as he attempts to compose himself but it’s no use as Christopher asks him to hold you down as tightly as he can so that your movement is minimised for him to make the incision.
“I love you,” you whisper as Samuel reluctantly takes a hold of your arms and stands over your body to pin them to your sides.
“I love you too, you’ll be okay my love. We have so much to look forward to with our boy, we must name him, then have the christening, and the whole of the settlement will join us to celebrate, just as they did with Alice and Silas,” he smiles, trying to take your mind off of what was about to happen, “it will be such a joyous occasion!”
You begin to nod but a shriek breaks through the silence as Christopher presses the blade of the scalpel into your skin to gain access to your kidney, and after a few minutes of constant pained cries as you fight against Samuel’s hold, you suddenly fall silent and your body goes completely limp beneath his hands. It’s then that Samuel begins to cry freely, his hands coming up to his face to hide his tears, but stopping when he realises one of them is covered in your blood, and all he does is stare at the thick red liquid that’s stained his hand.
“Samuel, it’s just the pain, she’s still with us,” Christopher reassures, finally spotting the large stones that had been causing you issue and beginning to lift them out, “I need you to check her pulse on her neck and if she comes around before I’ve finished you’ll need to hold her down again.”
“I don’t think I can,” he sighs sadly, “this is too much.”
“You can! And you will!” the doctor insists, “do you want to help the woman you love?”
“Of course I do!”
“Then you’ll do it!”
Samuel realises he’s only snapping to get him into the right frame of mind and he steps towards you to carefully removed the cloth from your mouth and place two fingers on the side of your neck to check your pulse. It’s slow and shallow, but it’s there and it means you’re alive. For now. He hears the baby crying from the next room as if he knows that his mother is in danger, and then Mercy begins to sing a sweet lullaby to the little one, soothing both him and Samuel during this traumatic time. Only minutes ago you were both overwhelmed with joy at the arrival of your baby and now here Samuel was, preparing himself to hold you down again if you woke during this possibly deadly procedure.
“One more,” Christopher mutters as he begins to sweat.
He was just as scared as Samuel was, if not more, being as this was his first time performing this type of operation; he’d only ever witnessed one before and the outcome was no a success so he had his own reservations about carrying it out, but you would certainly die if he didn’t even try to help.
“I’m closing her up now,” he updates as Samuel stares at your face that looks completely drained of life right at this moment.
Christopher had done all he could; he’d doused everything in alcohol, sewn you up as best he can, and placed a dressing over the wound to prevent infection. It was now up to your body which had already been weakened by the effects of giving birth beforehand, and as he leaves quietly he gives Samuel a comforting squeeze of his shoulder as he sits by your bedside utterly terrified. A few minutes later Mercy enters with the baby and stands by his side until he lifts his head to see what she needs.
“Yes Mercy?” he asks with an exhausted sigh.
“I’m so sorry Master Castell, the baby, he needs to suckle.”
“I… can she…?” he trails off, looking from your bosom to the hungry child in anguish.
“Master Castell, I made you some dinner, please eat and I shall try to get him to feed from Mistress Castell,” Mercy says quietly.
Samuel nods even though he didn’t want to eat a thing and slowly trudges out of the room to leave you with Mercy who gently places the baby down on the bed next to you and shuffles you up the pillows so she can bare your chest and hold the baby in place as he latches onto you for much needed nutrients.
“Is he-?” Samuel starts but stops when he sees your happy boy attached to your breast with his tiny fingers grabbing blindly at your skin.
“Would you like to hold him Master Castell?” Mercy asks, noticing the sheets that are stained with your blood.
“Yes,” he almost sobs, and Mercy carefully holds the baby in place until Samuel has a hold on the small child, watching in awe as he feeds from you.
Mercy fusses around the bed, carefully peeling off the bloody sheets and tugging your nightdress from your body so that she could clean you then put you into a fresh gown that was as clean as the new sheets.
“Thank you Mercy,” Samuel whispers as she rushes past him then back into the room.
“You’re very welcome Master Castell.”
“(Y/N) adores you and she would…” a sob cuts his sentence off and he turns his head away in embarrassment as Mercy finishes wiping your skin gently, “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologise for Master Castell, this is such a worrying time for you, but I know Mistress Castell will be okay.”
“How do you know that?” he asks with a smile.
“She’s strong and she loves you ever so much, God will not take her from you and the baby as love is so powerful.”
“That’s a really lovely thing to say Mercy, thank you.”
“You’re welcome Master Castell. I think baby is finished, shall I take him?”
“Yes please,” he nods, “I’d like to dress (Y/N) if that’s okay.”
“Of course.”
Mercy scoops up the little bundle from your chest then exits the room, leaving your new night gown over your bottom half, and Samuel picks it up before carefully lowering it over your head and lifting your body in sections so he can pull it down your full length until the scene of you laying in bed resembles complete normality instead of the bloody battlefield it had looked like earlier.
When night falls Samuel changes into his night shirt and curls up next to you, stroking your hair back from your face softly as his eyes stay fixed on your chest to make sure it doesn’t stop rising and falling with each breath you take, but eventually he slips into an uncomfortable sleep and wakes only a few hours later, just before the sun begins to rise above the horizon. He looks over at your body carefully and notices that you’d moved a little during the night, then he checks that your chest is still moving and he lets out a relieved sigh at the sight. The baby begins to cry and this seems to bring you back into consciousness as you mutter a groan and your head turns from side to side as if trying to figure out where the noise was coming from.
“(Y/N)?” Samuel asks hopefully, “(Y/N), I’m here sweetheart, I’m here!”
“Samuel?” you question groggily, “Samuel? Where’s Samuel?”
“I’m here my love,” he whispers.
“No… Samuel, our baby.”
“He’s… I’ll fetch him!” Samuel grins, jumping out of bed and quickly going in to see Mercy, “she’s awake!”
“Take him to her!” Mercy laughs as she hands the baby over with tears already threatening to spill from her eyes with happiness.
“Here he is my love, here’s our Samuel,” he says proudly, carefully transferring him from his arms to yours, “we hadn’t named him before you fell ill yesterday… I wasn’t sure...”
“He would only ever be named after his father,” you smile, now sitting up in the bed as you cuddle your little boy against your chest tightly.
The grin on Samuel’s face only widens, “how are you feeling today?”
“Sore,” you grimace, “I’m not sure I can move much today. Did Christopher have to…?”
“Yes,” he nods solemnly, “he removed all the stones.”
“I’m so thankful to him,” you sigh, “I thought I was going to die.”
“You had too much to live for,” Samuel smiles.
You lift one of your hands to place it against his cheek and he immediately leans in to the comforting touch he’d been so desperate for since yesterday, then he turns his head to kiss your palm before moving your hand away from him so he can lean over and place a loving kiss against your dry lips before he moves down to little Samuel and his soft head.
“I’ll get Mercy to bring you some water. She was very worried about you but had Samuel feed last night while you were asleep.”
“Bless her soul, I shall wrap my free arm around her!” you chuckle.
Samuel walks out to fetch Mercy then watches from the doorway as she helps you sip from a cup before you pull her against your side with your free arm and hug her tightly as if she were family too.
“Oh Mercy, I am going to miss you so much when you find a husband and leave us!” you announce as you begin to cry, “you are a wonderful woman. I do love you so.”
“Mistress Castell,” she sobs, “please, you are too kind to me! You are the most perfect Mistress I could have ever asked for and I do love you too!”
There’s a faint knock at the door and Samuel turns away from you both with a smile to answer it and find Christopher standing the other side with his bag in hand.
“She’s awake!” he grins, then steps out of the house and shouts into the street, “she’s awake and we have a perfect son!”
People passing by laugh and give their congratulations, even James giving a nod in Samuel’s direction at the happy news, then Christopher walks through to check on you and the baby with a deeply relieved expression when he sees you sitting up and smiling.
“Christopher, I cannot thank you enough, you helped me bring little Samuel into the world then you saved my life. Thank you thank you!” you exclaim joyously.
“You really do not have to thank me,” he smiles, “I’m just glad that everything has worked out for the best. You seem well today and the wound has clotted as it should, I’m very pleased to see this; continue to progress like this and you will be up and about in no time.”
“Thank you again,” you say, placing your hand on his.
“You’re very welcome.”
The doctor leaves as Mercy perches herself on the end of your bed and Samuel sidles up next to you with an arm around your shoulders and the other stroking the baby’s head gently. It had been a long and bumpy trail to get where you were now but as you look around at the three people you love most in this world you realise that it was all worth it for this moment with your husband, child, and ever faithful friend.
Your body felt weak, your mind was racing at an alarming pace, and every tiny twinge of pain caused you to panic as you wondered if your time would come now. Your thoughts drift back to being on the ship from England and one of the crew having to have a fishing hook dug out of their abdomen; the screams from the man were deafening even though the men shoved old rags between his teeth and there was no escape from the sound in such an enclosed space, then all went quiet when he eventually passed out from the pain, never to wake again. That was only trying to retrieve something that was just underneath the skin, so surely to have to delve so far into the body for kidney stones you stood no chance at all. You turn away from Samuel in bed as you cry quietly into your pillow at the thought of leaving him behind, but you’re determined to at least give birth before anything has to be done, you refuse to put your baby’s life at risk.
“My love, what is wrong?” Samuel gasps quietly as he wakes to find you sobbing next to him.
He wraps an arm around you immediately and pulls you against his strong and comforting body as you continue to let your fears overwhelm you.
“Please, (Y/N), tell me what is on your mind,” he pleads as he presses a long kiss to your head.
“Oh Samuel, we should not have acted upon our feelings, you should have stayed with Jocelyn and I with James then maybe we would have escaped this wretched punishment God has put upon us for defying the laws of the settlement.”
“Do not say such things!” Samuel frowns as he holds you close, “I would have been unable to live if I had to see you and James together every day, it would have torn me apart. This is no punishment, this is a test my love, a test that we shall face and conquer together to prove our love for one another and show everyone this was the right thing to do.”
“Samuel,” you begin with a sigh, turning around in his embrace so you can face him, “will you promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“If something happens after our baby is born, please tell them about me and how much I loved and wanted them.”
Samuel opens his mouth to protest against your dark thoughts but a sob escapes instead and his mouth closes as his lips turn down while tears spill from his enchanting eyes, and you rest your forehead against his as you cup one of his cheeks gently. After a few minutes together in a sombre silence Samuel’s lips find yours for a kiss that takes your breath away as one of his hands travels down your body to pull your nightdress up, and he begins to comfort you in a way only he could. You both manage to slip out of your clothes trying not to break the kiss for too long, then Samuel gently pushes you down onto your back before settling his lower body between your open legs and carefully sliding inside your slick opening.
His name falls softly from your lips as he leaves a trail of kisses along your jaw and down your neck while his hips move in unison with yours, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust, and Samuel’s touch is much more delicate than when you’d made love before announcing you were with child. The sound of deep breathing fills the small space around the bed and the air soon turns thick and heavy as the sweat beads across both your bodies, and you wrap your legs around Samuel’s hips so your heels can aid him by pressing against his buttocks. Your hands glide along his back then up to his shoulders so you can hold him close to you as his hot breath stutters out onto your neck between chaotic kisses, and he soon calls your name out repeatedly while you brace yourself for your own high; lifting your hips off of the bed as much as you can to ride out the pleasurable pulses that take over inside.
“I love you,” Samuel whispers as he pulls out and strokes your stomach with both hands while kneeling between your legs, “and this little one.”
“I love you too Samuel, so very much.”
He moves to lay beside you once more and his broad chest is far too inviting for you to resist draping yourself across it, then you hear Mercy pottering around in the next room as your eyes finally shut after spending most of the night awake. When Samuel knows you’ve drifted off to sleep he carefully moves from beneath you to get to the meeting that was being held this morning between the Governor, Redwick and Farlow about the situation with James.
“Good morning Mercy,” he smiles as he emerges from the bedroom once fully presentable, “(Y/N) is still asleep after having a bad night. Could you check in on her every now and again please?”
“Of course Master Castell,” she nods willingly, “do you need me to fetch the doctor?”
“No, not necessary Mercy, but thank you. Just keep an eye on her while I’m out and that will be enough. I’ll be back soon.”
“Bye Master Castell.”
Samuel takes his seat as company recorder but keeps his head down as he takes the notes from the meeting, too worried to look up as the three men discuss what to do with James Read.
“Punishment should be the same for him as it was for the attacker, should it not? This was a planned event,” Farlow suggests.
“I agree,” Yeardley nods.
Samuel’s eyes dart to Redwick, silently urging him to defend James after his agreement with you, and he smirks as he allows a longer pause than Samuel would like.
“I disagree. If he admits to it, then I see no harm in a simple whipping. The length of which should be decided by Master Castell of course,” Redwick sneers, “one or two days should do it.”
Samuel’s gaze widens in horror at such an offer, he was not a violent man in the slightest and it was something he chose not to witness either if he could help it, and now here he was, possibly in charge of someone’s length of punishment.
“Hmm, would that be suitable, recorder?” Yeardley questions.
“I… Yes of course it would. An afternoon should suffice.”
“Just an afternoon, Castell?” Redwick pushes.
“A day then,” Samuel replies hurriedly, moving his quill along the parchment to try and keep up with what had been said.
“Excellent, I shall look forward to the spectacle tomorrow!” Redwick grins.
Samuel walks home with a heavy heart as he prepares to tell you what had happened during the meeting but is quickly interrupted by James as he leaps from his shack to stop the recorder in his path.
“What is my fate?” he asks quietly.
“One day of whipping,” Samuel sighs, “I did suggest an afternoon but Redwick has a particularly nasty vendetta against you and soon changed it.”
“Thank you,” James nods, “you are a kind man Master Castell, and I am forever in your debt.”
Samuel gives the man a curt smile before continuing to the house and opening the door with a forced smile only to find Mercy worrying in a chair at the fact that you had gone missing.
“What’s happened Mercy?” Samuel asks as he studies her shaking frame.
“Mistress Castell… I turned away for only a moment after she dressed and when I turned back she had gone! I don’t know what to do! I ran outside but there was no sign of her Sir.”
“How odd. Do you think she has gone to get some food or maybe some medicine?”
“I told her I would do that for her with her being in such a fragile state, I promise I did Master Castell!” Mercy says as tears prick her eyes for fear of him not believing her.
“I know, I know,” he soothes, “did you hear a knock at the door maybe?”
“I don’t think so… Oh, I can’t remember, I’m so mixed up with worry inside Sir, I’m ever so sorry!”
“It’s okay Mercy, it’s not your fault. Have some water and calm down while I go out and see if I can find her, okay?”
“Yes Master Castell, thank you,” she nods as her shaking hands reach for the arms of the chair to help her stand.
Samuel stands outside the front door with a perplexed look upon his face as his eyes scan the settlement for any sign of you but of course there is none in such close proximity to the house, so he begins to walk towards the gates of Jamestown, being sure to study any path that he passed on his way. Several people greet him along his short journey and he makes sure to maintain his polite nature, but he can’t help the trepidation that rises inside him as he walks increasingly further from the safety of the colony.
“It’s unusual to see you so far from Jamestown Master Castell,” Pepper frowns as he walks towards the worried man.
“I am unable to fin my wife, have you seen her on your travels?”
“Of course,” Pepper laughs, “Mistress Castell is with Alice at our land!”
“Goodness, thank you!”
Samuel picks up his pace until he’s almost running up to the Sharrow land, then when you finally come into view he stops to catch his breath before taking a slow walk over to where you and Alice stand talking, and his eyes are drawn to the large bump that protrudes from Alice’s dress.
“Samuel!” you cheer as he gets near enough for you to notice, “I’m so sorry I left without telling you were I was going, but once I heard the good news I could not resist coming to give my well wishes to Alice in person!”
You link your arm through his as he presses a kiss to your hair then he grins at Alice as he realises you were here to see how far along she was and whether it would be her that was to give birth to the first child of Jamestown.
“Our very best wishes on your joyous news,” Samuel nods, “it will be wonderful to begin to see children around the settlement!”
“That it will,” Alice agrees, “I shan’t keep your wife any longer, I must get back to helping Silas myself! Good day to you both.”
“And to you too Alice,” you smile.
You both turn away ready to walk back to Jamestown, and your hand runs up and down Samuel’s arm happily.
“Our news can be kept a secret for a little longer my love,” you whisper excitedly.
“I’m so very relieved,” Samuel sighs, “after this morning I need some good news.”
“What was the verdict?” you ask, stopping in your tracks to face him.
“A days whipping.”
“Oh my goodness,” you gasp, bringing up a hand to cover your mouth.
“Redwick gave me the choice of length for the punishment and I did try for an afternoon but…”
“No, no, I know you would have done your best Samuel, you always do.”
You stand on tiptoe to kiss him, then stroke his cheek to help ease his troubled mind.
“We should get back, poor Mercy was shaking with worry over you!” he chuckles.
“The poor thing! I must apologise to her!” you say before lifting your dress a little so you could walk quicker.
“Hey!” Samuel laughs from behind as he jogs to catch up with you.
You turn and give him a sly smile before picking up your pace and the two of you end up laughing all the way back to the settlement as he chases you through the dense woods; the light relief something you both so desperately needed.
A/N: Sorry for the inexcusable wait. If you’re still following this then you’re amazing.
Was this all your fault? Would Redwick have such a vendetta against James if you hadn’t left him, or would he have had the same irrational hatred for you as well? You’d never know now and you couldn’t dwell on it as you stood peeking through the small gap in your curtain, trying to see if James was on his way or not.
“Any sign?” Samuel asks as he walks into the bedroom with a worried look upon his face.
“Not yet,” you sigh, gently tilting your head until it rests against the wall.
He moves to your side and places one hand on the small of your back while the other comes to a gentle stop on your small bump, then he presses a kiss against the side of your head as you now lean into his body, and you take a deep breath at the comforting feel of his arms around you.
“Maybe Verity hasn’t had a chance to-” Samuel begins, but cut off by a quick knock at the door before it opens and James appears just beyond the doorway to your bedroom.
You stand upright with a start and Samuel follows only a step behind you as you make your way towards James when he shuts the door quietly, and there’s an awkward moment as you stare silently at one another; him already noticing a change in your face from your pregnancy.
“You look different,” he mumbles.
“I...”
“She’s unwell, Redwick has put her under unnecessary pressure recently, and it’s why we’ve called you over,” Samuel interrupts as he moves to stand in front of you, “I need to go to Yeardley in the morning and tell him everything we know about you and the man you hired to attack (Y/N). Redwick will make sure you’re not hanged for your crime, but the safety of our family depends on this, and you are not standing in the way of me protecting them.”
James nods before leaning to the side to see your frightened face behind Samuel’s protective body, and his eyes travel down to your stomach as he realises why you look so different this evening.
“You’re with child?” he asks, looking directly into your eyes.
“I am,” you nod, “and we cannot let our child become property of the people of Jamestown.”
“I understand,” James sighs, “you’re a decent man for letting me know Samuel.”
“Decency has nothing to do with it, it was (Y/N) who wanted to warn you of what was to come even though this act is dangerous in itself,” Samuel states, “I will go to the Governor first thing, so be prepared.”
“Will do,” he nods, “thank you.”
James leaves as quickly as he came in and you take a seat on the chair with an audible huff as you dress puffs up around your legs, then Samuel kneels in front of you to take your hands in his.
“I promise everything will be okay,” he says as his eyes bore into yours.
A non-committal hum is your only reply to him as you wonder who else in the settlement could be carrying a child and whether they would hopefully give birth before you do, as the thought of having little control over your baby churns you up inside, and tears prick your eyes as you meet Samuel’s intense gaze.
“What is it?” he questions.
“I’m scared Samuel, if the Governor’s wife finds out our news then I fear that we won’t even be able to name our own child. It’s bad enough thinking that everyone is against us being together anyway.”
“That will not happen,” he replies sternly, “I simply won’t allow it.”
The two of you go to bed together but after a short sleep next to Samuel you find yourself wandering around the house aimlessly as you stroke your aching stomach with care, unsure of whether to go and wake the doctor or wait until the settlement begins to stir. Mercy finds you first thing in the morning as you swing back and forth in the rocking chair, and she rushes to your side, knowing that something was wrong.
“Mistress Castell,” she gasps, “my, you look ever so pale!”
“I just didn’t sleep much Mercy,” you smile weakly.
“Shall I get the doctor? Or shall I wake Master Castell? Miss, you do not look well at all,” she worries as her hands shake while she holds one against your forehead to check your temperature.
“What’s all this?” Samuel yawns as he appears from the bedroom.
“Mistress Castell hasn’t slept all night, Sir, and she does not look at all well,” Mercy explains, “she’s so very cold.”
“Mercy, please go and fetch the doctor,” Samuel instructs as he moves towards you and pulls a chair next to yours, “why didn’t you sleep my love?”
“I just didn’t feel tired,” you shrug, “no reason in particular,” you lie as your fingers tighten on top of your stomach.
“As soon as Priestley arrives I will visit Yeardley and get this over and done with, it surely cannot be helping your fragile state,” he frowns, “are you in pain?”
“It’s not a pain, more of an ache...”
“Your stomach?”
“Mhmm.”
Samuel stands in a panic, his hands going straight to his hair as he weaves his fingers through it nervously and his long legs take him from one end of the room to the other as he begins to pace in front of you silently worrying. Priestley soon arrives behind a jittery Mercy and Samuel watches intently as he examines you even though you repeatedly tell him to leave and see Yeardley.
“Master Castell,” Mercy whispers as he begins to pace once more, “I think you’re making Mistress Castell nervous...”
He looks over to your troubled face and he realises he’s not making the already precarious situation any better.
“Come and fetch me from the Governor’s quarters if anything happens,” Samuel instructs quietly.
“Thank you Mercy,” you smile as Samuel leaves as quietly as possible.
“Tell me if I hurt you,” Priestley says as he begins to press firmly around your stomach.
“Ah!” you cry out, and he checks around the area before looking at you with a solemn expression.
“What is it? Is it the baby?” you gasp.
“As far as I can feel the baby is fine, this is your kidney and I believe there are some stones in it if it is causing you this much pain.”
“Well what do I need to take?”
“There’s nothing you can take… But if they increase in size and cause you more pain then you’ll require surgery to remove them.”
“Surgery?” you and Mercy both question at the same time.
“Surgery,” he nods apologetically.
Mercy begins to cry at the thought of it all, and you have to bite back your own tears as you scramble to get up and wrap your arms around her small frame to try and reassure her that everything will turn out for the best, even though you were now suddenly faced with your own mortality and that of your child’s. Christopher squeezes your shoulder as he whispers that he’ll be there if you need him and to check in each week for an examination, then he leaves you both in a tight embrace, the both of you needing as much comfort as the other.
“No!” Samuel gasps when he returns to see you both now crying, “no!”
Mercy pushes you away and towards Samuel to explain, and you have to fight to get your words out properly instead of sobbing.
“Christopher said he believes I have kidney stones… There’s nothing I can take for them, and if they get bigger and cause more pain then they’ll have to come out,” you manage to clarify, “the baby is fine.”
“But for them to come out he’ll have to...” he trails off, knowing exactly what this meant, “oh no, no, I can’t lose-”
He’s cut off by a sob that rocks his body against yours, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you wish that you’d never come out here to Jamestown, to the constant heartache you’d felt here, and the uncertainty of everything, but as Samuel’s arms tighten around you, you know that you would rather spend the rest of your life with him rather than go back on it all, even if it meant that it would be less time than you thought.
I want to share bits and pieces of the WIPS I am working on of my longer pieces- there is one oneshot and two chapters of my longer fics in place.
So Let’s start with a preview of Chapter 3 of Promised, my The Great fic!
You were decked in a white gown. A veil was put on top of your head and it draped over you. Your view of the palace was blocked a little bit.
A hand guided you, your father guiding you through. At least bits of your dress and veil could sparkle. Eyes and countless wigs turned as you both walked past.
At last you reached the chapel, full of gold and with saints gently looking down. Grigor turned and saw you, you looked like a drop of snow amidst all of this gold, and shone like it too.
He wore a wig that you could still smell the powder from. His coat was richly colored. He looked very striking and he turned to face you. There was a slight smile when he saw you.
Your father handed you to Grigor, and you took his hand. You could smell the sweat and feel it on your own palms.
And now for the preview of the seventh Chapter of my Jamestown fic, Songbird! (the third project is going to be a surprise so no spoilers!!)
You hardly left your little house, you kept thinking furiously. Taking small nibbles of food- mostly relying on the goats milk and the chickens eggs. And you were listing all of your options as well, but you mainly stayed in your little house.
What choice had you? Who knew what Jocelyn would do and how she would act next Except for church, you could hardly go anywhere. You knew the second you were alone, it meant danger. Somehow. Even the walk to church and back, your eyes were peeled around and you walked quickly.
Perhaps…there was a way. A way to have protection after all. But there was something you would need.
Looking up the right words, you drew them in the air until you were confident you could write them
You ran up to your books and looked through the pages, finding bare, empty space. You hated to ruin such lovely things, but you had no choice. It was your books or your life.
You tore the book pages out and looked for the bare spaces.
The first one you wrote carefully. But there was a sudden knock on the door that surprised you so much that the ink jolted in your hand.
