“Yes, but there’s responsibility to counter that—a responsibility in being the one loved, in not taking silly, unnecessary risks. In not risking what we have unless we must.” He captured her fingers, drew them to his lips, and pressed a kiss to the slender digits. “And we both understand that, too.”
Slowly, she nodded. Then she asked, “So in the future? No risks?”
“That I can’t promise—and neither can you. But as we proved tonight, if there are risks we deem must be taken, then we’ll take them together, and we’ll win through.”
She smiled, then tipped sideways onto the bed and stretched out alongside him, her legs tangling with his, her head resting just below his uninjured shoulder, her hand splayed over his heart. He heard the smile in her voice as she said, “Because we’re an excellent team.”
“Indeed.” He settled his arms around her, then raised his head to press a kiss to her forehead. “Because we’re bound by unbreakable chains that will never release us, that will draw us together even if we try to stay apart.”
“Together,” she murmured. “Together for the rest of our lives.”
He wasn’t about to argue. Instead, he held her close as, together, they slid into dreams of their joint future—a future built of, built on, and built around their love.
EPILOGUE
Three days later, the Frobisher ladies hosted a picnic in the grounds of the Royal Observatory at Greenwich. The crews of all the Frobisher ships currently anchored in the Pool of London were summoned to attend. As well as The Trident and The Cormorant, that number included The Corsair and The Prince, which had arrived two days before; the combined crews formed a rowdy crowd, ready to toast their recent adventures and exchange already embellished tales of their parts in the action.
Royd had several announcements to make, the first of which related to the mission. He stood under the spreading branches of a tree and addressed the surrounding horde. “In deference to His Majesty’s distress on learning of the culpability of his longtime confidante Lord Peter Ross-Courtney in such a heinous crime, a trial was held in camera yesterday. Due to the wealth of evidence unearthed in Clunes-Forsythe’s study, combined with the testimony of Clunes-Forsythe, Satterly, Muldoon, and Winton, the judges reached a swift and unanimous verdict. Although the trial was conducted behind closed doors, all agreed that the sentencing would take place publicly in a few days’ time. However, it has already been decreed that Satterly, Muldoon, Winton, and Clunes-Forsythe will be transported for life, while the remaining five backers will hang.”
Cheers erupted on all sides. Royd waited until they’d quietened, then added, “The latter sentence will be carried out publicly, too. The news-sheets are going to have a field day, and for once, that will be to everyone’s benefit.” He looked around at all the eager faces, smiled, and somewhat wryly said, “Thanks to all here, and to all who assisted in the success of this mission, the government is breathing much easier today.”
Everyone laughed.
Royd continued, “The diamond merchant and the banker involved have been identified and various monies recovered. The collective weight of several members of the nobility was brought to bear, and the Crown agreed to surrender the money to the restitution fund already established for the ex-captives in Freetown.”
Another round of cheering greeted that news.
Kate broke in, “A toast!” She raised her glass high. “To Daisy, Si, and Wattie Watson, as well as all the friends we left behind in Freetown.” The roar as the company raised their tankards high startled several passersby.
Royd waited, patiently, until all eyes returned, expectantly, to him. “My other news is of a change at the company’s helm. As of today, I’m stepping aside as captain of the fleet. That role will henceforth be filled by Caleb.”
Shocked surprise filled many faces.
From among the crowd, Williams called out, “Surely you’re not giving up sailing, Captain?”
Royd grinned. “No. The Corsair will remain under my captaincy, and we’ll still be taking our usual voyages, although not as many as previously. Instead, I—and the crew of The Corsair, all old hands as we are—will be spending more time working in partnership with the Carmichael Shipyards in building and testing the next generation of Frobisher ships.”
That news pleased everyone—not least Duncan, who was sitting on the grass before Royd, his legs drawn up, his gaze fixed with rapt attention on Royd’s face.
“One other change,” Royd continued, “is that the government missions that Robert, Declan, and I have been responsible for running will now devolve to Caleb and, although they don’t as yet know it, Lachlan and Kit, at Caleb’s direction.”
So he, Robert, and Declan would now be spending more time in port, and when they sailed—almost certainly with their wives by their sides—it would be on voyages inherently less dangerous. The decision for Robert and Declan to pull back from such missions had been theirs, one Royd understood and supported. The responsibility of being loved and the need to keep those they loved safe were not issues they could deal with from half a world away.
Royd glanced around. Everyone was talking, discussing the changes and what they would mean. Isobel came up and looped her arm with his.
Briefly, he met her gaze, then he looked back at the gathering and raised his tankard high; the crews noticed and immediately looked his way.
“To absent friends. To the Frobishers.”
It was a traditional family toast, and the men knew it well. They raised their voices in chorus.
“May the skies remain clear, the wind fill our sails, and the seas run smooth and swift beneath our hulls. To the horizon and on!”
The final roar rose to the skies, and everyone drank.
Royd had heard Isobel’s low, sultry voice repeating the words. He lowered his tankard, turned from the men, and met her eyes. Saw love, unshielded, shining in the rich brown and smiled.
She smiled back. “Come and walk with us—Duncan wants to go down to the river to see the boats and ships.”
Duncan stood waiting, trying to hide his impatience.
Royd grinned and handed his empty tankard to one of the men. “In that case, let’s go.”
Duncan cheered and led the way.
“Not too far ahead,” Isobel called.
The other Frobisher couples fell in behind them. Declan supported an increasingly bulky yet still pluckily and determinedly mobile Edwina. Aileen leaned on Robert’s arm, a wide smile on her face. Kate and Caleb followed, but not before Iona, stumping along with Elaine and Fergus in the rear, had acerbically remarked that Kate could forget any notion of returning to work in Freetown. “I’d rather see another Carmody married to a Frobisher than that!”
“I take it,” Royd murmured, “that that’s Iona’s way of saying she approves of both my and Caleb’s suits?”
Isobel tipped her head in thought, then said, “I think approval might be stretching the truth. Resignation is nearer the mark.”
Royd chuckled and shook his head.
They ambled on, ahead of the others, with Duncan skipping before them.
Royd realized Isobel was studying him. He caught her eye and arched a brow.
“I was just thinking of what you said before—how much sailing for the company do you think you’ll do?”
“Not much for the foreseeable future. There’s not just the new fleet to design and work on, but I plan on spending time with Duncan.” He let his gaze slide down her svelte figure to her still-flat stomach. “And with that one, too. I missed all that with Duncan—I’m not going to miss a minute this time around.”
“Ah.” She looked ahead. “You noticed.”
“I run a business and engineer your designs—I can count.”
The smile that lit her face was more madonna than Amazon. “I intended to te
ll you when we were back at sea and free of all the others.”
He considered, then agreed, “We don’t need to tell them yet.” He thought, then added, “Duncan, Declan’s firstborn, Robert’s firstborn, and now our second. We’ve made a good start on begetting the Frobisher captains to sail our new fleet.”
“We’d better start on those new designs.”
“As soon as we get back to Aberdeen.” He glanced back, then seized her hand and, in three long strides, whisked them off the path and around the large trunk of a nearby tree.
A soft laugh was on her lips as he backed her against the bole; he kissed it from the luscious curves, then deepened the exchange and savored.
Isobel leaned against the tree, wound her arms about his neck, and gave herself up to the kiss—to him, to them. To the knowledge that, with the end of this voyage, they’d finally found their way back to each other, and together, they’d found their way home.
* * *
They sailed into Aberdeen five days later. Through breaks in the thick clouds, the morning sun beamed on their backs, and a blustery wind filled their sails.
The Corsair led the way, with the rest of the small fleet strung out behind them. Fergus and Elaine had elected to sail with Declan and Edwina on The Cormorant, while Iona was on The Prince with Caleb and Kate.
They crested a wave, and from her position at the stern deck’s forward rail alongside Royd as he steered his ship, Isobel saw the roofs of Aberdeen ahead. She laughed and pointed. “Home!”
Beside her, Duncan jigged and cheered.
Isobel glanced down at him. Home. For her, for Royd, and for Duncan, too, the word had taken on new meaning.
The mouth of the Dee came into view, and Royd swung the wheel and called the required sail changes to angle The Corsair in past the pier. Isobel looked back at the procession of sails following in their wake. With the sun lighting the swollen canvas, the sight was both majestic and evocative.
They’d sailed far away; they’d taken on villains and accepted risks. They’d triumphed and won through to a right and just reward, and now they were returning with the wind at their backs and the sun on their sails.
Smiling, she faced forward.
People on the pier had spotted them. More came running; it wasn’t that often that such a grand sight came sailing in. And these were locals—even more reason to cheer and wave.
Duncan rushed to the side and waved back. “Africa,” he yelled. “We’ve been to Africa! And London, too.”
Royd heard and laughed. He met her eyes. “He has his priorities in the right order.”
She smiled and pressed a hand to his arm.
He turned to her and, when she looked up, pressed a fleeting kiss on her lips. “How are you feeling?”
She widened her eyes. “Surprisingly well.” She hadn’t sailed when she was carrying Duncan. She’d expected to feel at least queasy. “Apparently, this babe is a Frobisher through and through—born to sail.”
He grinned and turned back to the task of easing down the river and through the narrows into the docks.
Finally, all sails were down, and the hull glided the last yards to gently bump against the Frobisher wharf.
Sailors leapt to secure the ship. Royd handed over command to Liam, then turned to Isobel.
She met his gaze and saw their future in his gray eyes.
He held out a hand. “Are you ready?”
He wasn’t referring solely to disembarking. Smiling, she put her fingers into his, felt his grip, and returned the pressure. “For our future?”
Royd held her gaze. “For our wedding and all the years to come.”
Her smile grew radiant. “Yes.”
He pulled her in for a quick, passionate kiss, then, with the entire crew grinning and Duncan impatiently leading the way, they made for the lower deck, the gangplank, and the wharf—and the future they’d decided to claim.
* * *
Practicalities dictated the order of the weddings. Robert and Aileen fronted the altar in the Church of St. Mary, just below Scarborough Castle, in late October.
Aileen’s parents were delighted with the match, with the prospect of a grandchild when they’d given up hope, and they felt even more blessed when all three of Aileen’s brothers managed to get shore leave and make it home in time to attend.
Robert’s brothers stood as his groomsmen. With no sisters and not even any close female cousins, Aileen had elected to ask her three soon-to-be sisters-in-law to be her attendants.
Kit and Lachlan raced across country from their home port of Bristol for the event, arriving just in time to beat the bride into the church. They joined Robert’s officers and most of his crew, who had traveled from Aberdeen to see their captain tie the knot with a lady who had won their respect and affection.
Needless to say, although the company was select, the wedding breakfast was a riotous affair, with toasts and tales and laughter and happiness lasting long into the afternoon.
No one was surprised when Kate caught the bride’s bouquet.
Edwina’s only comment was that it was a sign they needed to hurry up—she was determined not to miss a single wedding, and she was only weeks away from not being able to travel... No one was inclined to attempt to argue with a heavily pregnant daughter of a duke.
* * *
Consequently, Caleb and Kate were married in the Dunnottar Parish Church in the woods outside Stonehaven in early November. Although Iona had argued for an Aberdeen location, Kate had insisted; her parents were buried in the graveyard at Dunnottar, and that was the congregation she had always been a part of.
As Royd and Isobel’s upcoming nuptials would be celebrated in Aberdeen, Iona had given way with reasonable grace.
Kate had also put her foot down—strongly supported by Isobel—over Iona’s suggestion of a handfasting rather than a wedding. Faced with Isobel, a testament to the advisability of such a route when a Frobisher was involved, Iona had accepted Kate’s position without even a quibble.
Once again, the same four gentlemen and the same four ladies made up the bridal party; only the identities of the groom and bride had changed.
Kate and Caleb made their vows in clear, strong voices, and the sun broke through the clouds and shone through the stained-glass windows to bathe them in a golden glow.
Despite the season, the setting was idyllic. The well-wishers thronged the small church and later flowed onto the grounds, waiting to congratulate the newlyweds as they did the rounds. To Kate’s surprise, many of the locals who had known her mother, and her, too, came to wish her well, along with more members of her father’s family than she’d expected.
Caleb’s crew were all there—and in a delightful surprise, Phillipe Lascelle had sailed into Aberdeen that morning. He made it to the church in time and brought Ducasse and several of his crew who Caleb knew of old and Kate had grown to know in the jungle. Most surprising of all, Phillipe brought Hillsythe, who, theoretically, was on his way back to Freetown to reorganize the governor’s office.
With such a crew assembled, the wedding breakfast, held in a nearby inn under Iona’s aegis, was a rollicking event. When Kate came down the stairs, changed and ready to leave with Caleb and his crew for a short honeymoon trip to Copenhagen, she paused on the landing, looked down at the unmarried ladies who had been herded into position by a ring of laughing gentlemen, took careful aim, and threw her bouquet.
Isobel caught it—to the raucous cheers of all around—but she’d had no option. Kate, her innocent young cousin, had flung the flowers directly at her face.
* * *
On an overcast day in late November, in the Cathedral Church of St. Machar in Old Aberdeen, Isobel Carmody Carmichael finally walked down the aisle to meet Royd Frobisher.
Her father, James, gave her away, his pride et
ched in his face for all to see.
In her usual unique fashion, Isobel had chosen to be married in a watered silk gown in tones of blue that recalled the colors of the sea. A delicate lace veil lay over her black hair and floated about her shoulders, and around her throat, the cerulean fire of the blue diamond necklace blazed. Royd had bought the necklace anonymously at the public auction conducted by Rundell, Bridge, and Rundell, the proceeds of which had been added to the restitution fund in Freetown. He’d presented the fabulous memento to Isobel as his wedding gift; as he’d said, the necklace would always mean more to him and her than to anyone else.
In turn, she’d given him her heart, her soul, one son, with another child on the way.
Both considered themselves well and truly blessed.
Isobel’s three attendants wore silk gowns in a range of paler sea greens and sea blues. They lined up beside her at the altar, the medley of colors reminding everyone of the central role the sea played in the lives of those involved.
The service wasn’t short; all those who had waited so long for this day had been determined to extract their due. When the bride and groom exchanged their vows, lace handkerchiefs fluttered, and tears gleamed in many an eye.
The bridal party lined up before the altar was familiar to many, with one notable addition. Duncan popped up between his parents to offer his father a shining gold band on a red velvet cushion; with a thoroughly joyful expression, he watched as Royd picked up the band, took Isobel’s hand, and slid the ring into place.
Duncan stepped back only when, after the minister pronounced Royd and Isobel man and wife, Royd drew Isobel into his arms and they kissed—before God and their families and the massive congregation gathered to witness the joining of two families who had for so long been a part of the town and, with this union, looked set to take Aberdeen ships and shipping onto ever more challenging seas.
With the groomsmen and attendants, Isobel and Royd retired to sign the register, then they returned from the vestry to stand hand in hand with their heads bowed for the benediction.
Finally, they raised their heads, turned, and, with joy in their hearts and happiness lighting their eyes and faces, with ever quickening strides, led the bridal party up the aisle.
Lord of the Privateers (The Adventurers Quartet) Page 44
