Sequel to CAPSIZE
The adventure continues as Celia finally escapes Elizabeth's iron grasp, but the horrors that await the recently free, seemingly happy couple surpass their expectations.
Set in 1500s America
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That night, John White invited Harry and Celia over to his house for supper.
Celia emerged from their house, stepping into the warmth of the night air to meet Harry outside. The sun had just sunk below the horizon, being replaced by the glistening silver moon. The light from the blinding circle in the sky reflected off of the necklace that Celia wore, catching Harry's attention.
He turned around and smiled at her, gaping at her beauty. "You look ravishing." He reached for her hand and pulled her into his body, placing a kiss on her forehead.
She smiled and stepped backward. "Is it too much?" She looked down at her dress, the fabric a vibrant red.
He shook his head. "Absolutely perfect. You are a gift from God."
She rolled her eyes and slapped his chest playfully before grabbing him by the arm and heading to the White residence.
Roanoke was quiet. Fires crackled inside the small houses, the flames of candlelit dinners shining through the paper-covered windows and creating the shadows of families inside.
Celia felt so out of place. Crickets chirped in the distance, along with the occasional hoot of an owl. She wished she was back in Greenwich, but she knew it was impossible.
They came upon the house of John White and knocked lightly on the door. Seconds later, it creaked open, revealing John.
"Good evening, I'm so glad you decided to come," he said, opening the door further for the two to enter. "Please, come in. Eleanor," he shouted into the house, "come take Sir Harry's coat! Lady Styles, come with me, I'll fetch you a refreshment. Wine, perhaps?"
"That sounds lovely," she said, passing her shawl off to Harry before following John into the kitchen.
Their home was only a bit larger than the others in the settlement, with a kitchen blocked off from the entryway that doubled as a parlor, and a secluded room where Eleanor slept. A bed in the kitchen was sloppily strewn together. Celia figured it was where John slept.
As John poured a glass of wine for himself and Celia, a door creaked open and shut gently. He smiled and reached for two more glasses.
"That must be Eleanor," he said.
Celia took the glass of wine and held it to her lips, letting the potent liquid slide into her mouth and coat her dry throat. When John poured another glass, she reached for it and walked toward the room where she left Harry.
As she came upon the threshold, she could see Harry's back. He faced Eleanor. She wore a pale blue dress. Her hair was swept into a braid, revealing her long neck. She smiled slightly at Harry, her blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. In her hands, she held Harry's coat.
Celia inhaled deeply and walked into the room. "Harry, what's taking you so—oh," she said, pretending to not have been lurking behind the wall, watching their encounter.
"Celia, how wonderful to see you again," Eleanor smiled warmly.
Celia forced a small smile. "I see you've met my husband," she said, walking over to his side and handing him the glass of wine. His hand slipped around her waist. She smiled genuinely at the action.
"Yes, and what a lovely match you two make," she said as she hung the coat on a nearby hook nailed into the wall.
Celia looked up at Harry, who was smiling down at her. She shifted her gaze to Eleanor. "You're very kind to say so. I imagine you'll be in search of a husband soon?"
"Father would have it so," she replied flatly.
"Do I hear you lot speaking of me?" John asked, popping out from behind a corner. He smiled. "Come, let's sit while cook prepares dinner."
They were led further into the sitting room, Harry and Celia taking a seat on the sofa and the others in singular chairs.
It was silent at first. The fire crackled from the kitchen, filling the dead air. Celia watched Eleanor as her eyes wandered around the room, catching Harry's gaze for a brief moment. She swallowed hard.
"So, what is life like here?" Celia asked, desperate for a distraction from Eleanor's apparent interest in Harry.
"Well, ma'am, it will be different than what you're used to," John said carefully.
Celia nodded. "I figured as much. Are there children here?"
"No, ma'am, Nerissa is the first," he replied.
"I see, how exciting."
"Harry, perhaps I could steal you away for us to discuss governing matters? No need to bore the women with political chatter," John said, standing from his chair.
Harry nodded and followed him out of the room and into the warm night air, leaving Eleanor and Celia alone to their company.
"I suppose you will be needing a tour of the settlement," Eleanor said, her eyes shining as she spoke, "I would be happy to show you around tomorrow."
"Thank you, I'll consider it."
"Tell me, what is life like at court?" Eleanor leaned forward, her youthful eyes widening with wonder.
"You know of my position there?"
"Father seems to know everything about everyone," Eleanor smiled in a half-joking manner. "You were a maid of honor, correct?"
"Indeed. I was very close to the Queen."
"And how did you come upon a pirate for a husband? No offense intended, of course."
"Of course," Celia stated slowly, glancing down to her lap and clasping her hands together. The silver ring on her left hand reflected the candlelight, shining brightly. "I was journeying to France when my ship was attacked by Spaniards. In the flurry of it all, I was pushed overboard. Harry came to my rescue."
"Like a valiant knight! What a romantic tale that is," she gushed.
Celia widened her eyes momentarily, her lips curling slightly at the corners of her mouth. "Yes," she breathed, "what a romance."
"If I ever marry, it shall be for love, not for station or wealth."
Celia took a sip of her wine, hoping to ease the awkwardness she felt in the presence of Eleanor. She was young, beautiful, and full of life. The way she had looked at Harry as she took his coat provoked a dark feeling to emerge from the depths of Celia's heart. She and Harry had only just reconciled, and she feared that Eleanor might cause it all to come crashing down, especially with her love for adventure.
"Oh, I hope we become good friends while you are here, Lady Styles," Eleanor said, drawing Celia out of her thoughts. "How I have longed for a friend since my arrival here. It's been ever so lonely. Most of the women detest me for my youth and ignorance to the hardships of life." She rolled her eyes.
"I feel as though we will get along quite nicely, Eleanor. And, I told you, call me Celia," she replied with a small smile and slight nod of her head.
