Page 78 of Those Fatal Flowers

“Did he hurt you?” I interrupt, jumping to my feet. My hands find her shoulders, and I guide her into the chair I previously occupied.

“No, no…He believes I hate you still, and that’s ground I didn’t want to lose. When he asked where we were, I told him that I saw you leaving the village and followed you into the woods.”

“You were gone all night,” Margery wails. “How did you explain that without damning her?”

Cora’s eyes blaze. “Don’t you understand? She’s already damned. Thomas met with Master Lacie and Master Florrie this afternoon—”

“Sailors,” Emme says. Her eyes grow dark.

“Yes. They’re preparing for the journey to Scopuli. They have been for months.”

“What do you mean?” My face pinches with confusion. “Thomas said we couldn’t go anywhere until the weather lifted.”

Cora looks apologetic. “The weather was only part of it.”

The room holds its breath, waiting for her to continue. She fingers the edges of her sleeves nervously; her eyes wander to the ground.

“Tell me,” I say softly, kneeling before her. Her green eyes grow glassy with tears.

“This entire time…Thelia, they’ve been building another boat across the island. One large enough to carry us all.”

“Why would they do that?” Margery asks.

“By Thelia’s own admission, there are no eligible men left on Scopuli for her hand. They assume that since she arrived alone, there must be very few men left at all.” She turns to me. “Why else would your family risk sending a woman without protection to an unknown land?”

“And?” My voice is barely a whisper.

“They plan to steal it from you.”

Several of the women gasp. Rose’s hand flies to cover her gaping mouth, and Emme’s hands curl into fists.

“The men don’t trust you. Some openly call you a witch behind your back. All of them call you a heathen. Thomas has been circulating rumors that you’re responsible for Will’s death, but everyone is willing to play nice until you lead us to your gold…” Her voice cracks, as if she can’t bear to continue. “Once you do, they’ll kill you. Your family as well, andanyone else who might stand in their way. After that, Thomas plans to marry me.” Her face crumples into despair. “He told me all this, and I had to pretend to be thrilled! Thelia, I didn’t know what else to do—”

“You did well,” I whisper, my hands holding her legs in encouragement.

“I think he murdered Will,” Cora whispers, the words catching in her throat. “And now he plans to murder you, too…Oh, Thelia! What are we going to do?”

The treachery should be shocking, but it’s painfully consistent with what I’ve already witnessed these men to be capable of. My teeth dig into the side of my mouth as I look for the words to say next, but a growl from Emme breaks the silence. “Who knows of this?”

“Mistress Bailie, John Sampson, James Lacie, Hugh Taylor…a handful of others.”

“How can they be so cruel?” Rose barks with surprising ferocity. “We’re planters, not soldiers!”

“Maybe,” Cora says, her eyes finding mine. “But aren’t we only here because our soldiers came first?”

“But to agree to this…” Rose says, the color leaching from her cheeks.

“It’s not just them. It’s everyone in this town!” Emme adds. “No one said a damn word when they dragged Margery into the pillory today.”

“Nor did we,” Elyoner whispers, not quite ready to condemn the entire village to Hell. She has the decency to look ashamed, and she reaches for Margery’s hand to squeeze it apologetically.

“Who would have listened to you if you had?” Margery snaps to defend her. “Look what happened to Lady Thelia. The Bailies would have jailed us all for interfering with their plans, and everyone else would have let it happen.”

“I hate them,” Cora says. “They did nothing when Will went missing, nor when he was found. God’s blood, some of them probably knew what Thomas planned, and no one warned him!”

“None besides you have helped me when John loses control,” Alis adds softly, agreeing with the growing resentment.

“And no one punished Charles after what he did to Emme…” Rose trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Emme’s expression hardens. Although she speaks no words, her pain is etched into hard lines across her face.

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