Timothy. The only bay suitable for landing was on the far side of the island, away from the shipping lanes. In the last few days he had been treated to all manner of topography as they sailed among the islands of the western Indies. Many of the islands were mountainous, some were flat, but this island seemed to have a broad plain all about it, with a spine of rolling hills in the center running the length of the island. The cane fields were lush and green, and he was not just a little impressed. “They’re harvesting. It’s the season,” the captain said, coming to stand by his side. “The island is about eighty square miles in size, about half of Barbados, and smaller than Grenada. Do you know anything about it, your grace?” “Precious little,” Valerian Hawkesworth replied. “I know the two families who were given the grant by King Charles were related to mine by marriage. My bride, and her father, are the last of them.” “The families kept in touch with England, then. Many of them don’t, y’know.
