He offered his arm and she accepted, walking with him to the little room where Ambrosia was being helped into her veil by her sisters. At the door they were joined by Mistress Coffey, who had insisted upon helping Ambrosia dress.
Now the three sisters were sharing a few private moments.
"Oh, my." Winnie felt tears spring to her eyes when she saw the three young women standing together.
Bethany was in a gown of emerald green, her red hair piled on top of her head like a crown. She stood to the left of Ambrosia, smiling through her tears.
Darcy was in pale blue, with her golden curls dancing about her shoulders. She clung to Ambrosia's right hand, squeezing gently. Both girls wore sprigs of wildflowers in their hair.
Ambrosia was wearing her mother's wedding gown, a lace so fine it could have been spun by angels. Her dark hair spilled down her back in tangled glory. The veil fell from a jeweled tiara nestled in her hair—an extravagant gift from the king.
"It will never be the same, will it?" Bethany whispered.
"And why not?" Ambrosia demanded. "Because you'll have Riordan now. He'll come between us."
"Nay. Never." Ambrosia's voice left no doubt of her determination. "We are sisters. Nothing will change that. Ever."
"You mean we'll still sail together?" Darcy dabbed at her tears with a lace handkerchief.
"Aye. And stand together. And fight together. When the three of us are together, who can best us?"
"No one," Bethany said firmly.
"Aye. No one." Darcy caught Bethany's hand, and the three embraced.
Hearing a sound in the doorway, they looked up to see the others watching.
"You are a vision, lass." Geoffrey stepped forward, wrapped his arms around Ambrosia, taking care not to wrinkle her gown, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Thank you, Grandpapa. Have you seen Riordan?"
"Aye." He chuckled. "He looks like a man about to walk the plank."
The others laughed.
"That bad?"
"Aye. But he'll survive, lass. He's survived worse fears. The king is offering him comfort. And a bit of ale, I believe."
Mistress Coffey blinked back tears. "Ambrosia, I wish your father and brother were here to see you."
Ambrosia wrapped an arm around the old woman's shoulders and pressed her smooth cheek to the wrinkled one. "They are here, Mistress Coffey. Of that I have no doubt."
That had both the old women bursting into tears, while her two sisters swallowed back theirs. The pain of their loss, still so fresh, was like a knife wound to the heart.
Geoffrey winked. "I think I'd best take these two out for some fresh air."
"We'll go with you." Bethany caught Darcy's arm. "Since most of Cornwall is here, it might be wise to look over the crop of dashing gentlemen."
"You can look if you please," Darcy said. "And they'll most certainly be looking at you. As for me, I have no intention of giving my heart."
"To anyone but Graham Barton," Bethany whispered.
At the mention of her childhood love, Darcy blushed before giggling in embarrassment. She linked her arm with Bethany's, and with a last kiss for their sister, the two walked away.
Ambrosia saw Newton peeking around the doorway and motioned for him to come in.
"Is it all right, lass? I wouldn't want to intrude on yer last minutes of privacy."
"Oh, Newt." She rushed forward and caught both his hands. "I want you here with me. My, don't you look fine."
He looked down at his waistcoat and breeches with disdain. "Mistress Coffey's doing. She said I wasn't to bring shame on the Lambert family by showing up looking like a weathered old salt. Even made me buy a pair of shoes. A pair." He rolled his eyes.
Ambrosia laughed and hugged him. "I appreciate the sacrifice you're making for my wedding day."
"I'd do anything for ye, lass. Ye know that."
"You've done more than you'll ever know, Newt. It was the advice you gave me at
Hampton Court
that finally brought Riordan around."
"It wasn't my doing, lass. Ye saw yer chance and seized it. I've no doubt ye'll always live yer life that way." He bent close and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Be happy, lass."
"Thank you, Newt. I will."
"I leave my bride-to-be alone for a few minutes and find her in the arms of another man."
At the sound of Riordan's voice, they both looked up. Riordan and the king were standing together. They looked not like a monarch and his obedient servant, but rather like two old friends who'd been sharing a few words and more than a few drops of spirits.
Old Newton grinned as he walked up and offered his handshake. "I'm wishing yer bride happiness. And ye, too, Cap'n."
"Thank you, Newt." Riordan clasped the old man's hand in both of his and looked him in the eye. "And thank you for the advice you gave."
The old man winked, then strolled away.
Riordan turned to Ambrosia, and, for the space of several seconds, found himself speechless.
The king seized the opportunity. "I realize this is a joyous time for the two of you. But for me, it's a sad moment. This day I will lose the old friend who drank with me, and gambled with me, and wenched..." He cleared his throat. "We once vowed that neither of us would ever become mired in the muck of matrimony." He saw the way Riordan winced, and added, "Well, perhaps it was I who said that. But I think, looking at the two of you, that I'll not be losing a friend so much as gaining a new one."
"Aye, Majesty. I will be your friend."
Ambrosia started to curtsy, but Charles caught her hands to restrain her. "Nay, my lady. Today I bow to you. You have won the heart of the finest man in England." He glanced at Riordan. "Next to your king, of course." He leaned close and kissed her cheek. "I echo what the old sailor said. Be happy, my lady. For you have already made my friend the happiest man in the world. Now I must go and charm my subjects."
And then he was gone. Striding out of the room and up the aisle, where everyone strained for a glimpse of their king.
In the silence that followed Ambrosia turned to Riordan. "Grandpapa said you looked like a man about to walk the plank. Nerves, my love?"
He laughed. "Aye. Until this moment. Now..." He shook his head. "Now I'm wondering what took me so long." He drew her close and pressed his lips to her temple. "Ambrosia, you take my breath away. I love you so much it frightens me."
As the first notes of the harp sounded, she lifted a hand to his cheek and kept it there, loving the touch of him. "I have no fears, Riordan. Not about this. Nor about our future. Not as long as you love me."
"My fearless little privateer." He pressed his forehead to hers and took in a deep, steadying breath. Then he stepped away and caught her hand. "Come, love. I can't wait for that future to begin."
As she stepped out into the aisle of the church, she saw the wealthy and titled guests seated side by side with sailors and housemaids. She took her grandfather's arm and waited until Riordan had joined the vicar and deacon at the altar. And then, as the notes of the harp swelled, and the crowd held its breath, she started forward. Toward her husband. Her future. Whatever it was, she and Riordan would share it together.
Together. It was, she realized, the most beautiful word she'd ever heard.
And then there was no time to think as, before God and king, before a family that beamed with pride and wiped away tears of joy, they spoke the vows that would make them forever loved. Forever blessed. Forever one.
Ruth Ryan Langan, The Sea Witch
(Series: # )
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends