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Show Page 31 brown and sturdy. A lock of dark brown hair curled over his broad forehead and the expression on his face was warm and welcoming. Then my newly-bold tongue asserted itself and I shook off the man's hand. "I have no wish to raise your hopes needlessly, I told the man called John. "I am not one of Sandys's maids and am therefore not among those looking for a husband. I thank you for your assistance, but I believe I have recaptured my land legs." His only reply was a smile that crinkled his eyes and drew his lips back from even, white teeth--a rarity in any person, since even I have lost one of my grinders. "Too bad, John, that 'un got away," someone called. "No matter. John would need permission to marry anyway," someone else remarked. As Anne and I wove our way through the crowd, I wondered why a grown man would need permission to marry. I soon forgot all about the stranger though, for there were Governor Yeardley and his wife and members of the Council waiting to greet us. To see the silk and satin, the gold braid and trim, one could almost forget London was an ocean away. After a most rousing speech of welcome, we were led away in small groups to the houses where we would stay until our permanent arrangements were settled. There was as yet no guesthouse in James Towne. |
