The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 9: The Princess Pocahontas

The Adventures of Pocahontas and John Rolfe: Book I

Chapter 9: The Princess Pocahontas

It was not long after the pirates were out of sight that the sailorettes on the ship rejoiced loudly. Pocahontas glanced up at John Rolfe on the helm and then down to the cheerful French maidens. She smiled. Everything had worked out and they were finally heading home. With any luck, they would never see another pirate for as long as they lived.

"Ahem, ahem!" John Rolfe cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. All the women quieted down, listening. "Ladies, I'm charting a course to Jamestown in Virginia. Ships regularly navigate back and forth from there to England. By the way, I'm terribly sorry for all of your recent losses," he announced in French, an air of sadness to his voice. He noted Pocahontas raising a brow in response to the strange-sounding language.

He continued in French, "If you have any family remaining in France, I'm certain King James would be delighted to offer you passage home. If not, we'll make arrangements for you to stay elsewhere. As you all know, my name is John Rolfe and I am a diplomat from England." He gestured down to Pocahontas, who was resting upon a small barrel. "That young lady right there is Pocahontas. She is a native of Virginia, princess of the friendly Powhatan tribe—a new ally of England, and France by extension." Rolfe peered down in expectation at the familiar brunette. "You are Louise, correct?" he asked.

The girl nodded. "Louise de Vallisée." She turned her green-eyed gaze to Pocahontas. "I speak a little English, mademoiselle," she indicated with a smile, waving.

Pocahontas nodded as eleven other curious faces glanced over at her. She smiled amiably at all of them. The expressions they wore seemed to ask thousands of questions that their mouths could not hope to express, but there would be time for translations later.

John Rolfe focused his gaze on the young lady standing next to Louise, a wavy blonde with pale grey eyes. When she saw him looking at her, she flushed lightly and threw a glance down at the deck. "Je m'appelle Denise, Denise-Giselle Isaacs."

The Englishman nodded to her. "Bienvenue, Denise," he greeted, casually shifting his gaze to the next lovely face in the crowd. The third maiden greatly resembled Denise-Giselle Isaacs. John Rolfe figured they had to be related. His theory was proven correct when she identified herself as Geneviève Isaacs. "Sisters?" he asked, gesturing between the two of them. Both girls nodded their heads, grinning. "Lovely!" he noted, turning his attention to the next maiden. One by one, the ladies identified themselves.

"Isabelle Marie de Thou," came the voice of a tall platinum blonde.

A slightly taller brunette with hazel eyes was next. "Lorraine Ribault Tavernier."

Then came a short blonde with beautiful brown eyes. "Madeleine."

"Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine," came the unexpectedly confident voice of a ravishing blue-eyed blonde. She appeared to be the least timid member of the group.

The girl next to Nicole introduced herself next. "Jacqueline Blazier Rousseau."

"Je m'appelle Simone."

The redhead spoke next. "Marie-Claude."

"Catherine Rose Sauvage."

"Charlotte."

Pocahontas glanced at each of them, repeating the names she had heard in her head in an attempt to commit them to memory. Louise de Vallisée, Denise-Giselle Isaacs, Geneviève Isaacs, Isabelle Marie de Thou, Lorraine Ribault Tavernier, Madeleine, Nicole Lorrise St. Germaine, Jacqueline Blazier Rousseau, Je m'appelle Simone, Marie-Claude, Catherine Rose Sauvage, and Charlotte, she thought to herself as her eyes followed the line of young white women. Nope. No way was she going to remember all those strange exotic-sounding names without having to ask for several reminders at the very least.