by Anne B. Cole
“Why the water?” Anya inquired as they headed to the rail.
Lorenzo shrugged, lowering the buckets to the sea. “Peter said I had to prove myself worthy of a Greek woman.”
“Peter likes to give you orders.” Anya laughed, knowing there was no ‘water collecting’ tradition.
Mama and Alec appeared at the top of the stairs, and then joined her in enjoying the view of the sea. Anya placed an arm protectively around Mama so Alec could help with the sails.
“Enzo,” Peter bellowed. “Drop anchor.”
“Yes, sir.” Lorenzo winked at Anya then ran to release the anchor. The men lowered the sails, steadying the ship. The wind calmed to little more than a breeze over the crystal clear water. Lorenzo jumped down from the main mast. Alec approached him with a sour expression.
“Lorenzo,” Alec uttered sternly.
“Sir?”
“You may not marry Anya. I forbid it.” Alec’s eyes blazed at him. Anya’s heart stopped.
“Sir?” Lorenzo froze, stupefied. Peter fidgeted nervously.
Alec towered over him. “You will not marry Anya.” His voice echoed in her ears.
Lorenzo bravely stepped closer to Alec, fists clenched at his sides. Anya’s heart raced; her legs shook. She felt Mama’s arm wrap around her waist. Alec turned his head to the women and winked before glaring at Lorenzo. Peter approached Lorenzo’s side. Alec responded in a booming voice, “You will not marry Anya without,” Alec and Peter grabbed Lorenzo by the arms and tossed him overboard. “A bath.”
Mama giggled, and Yia Yia laughed so hard tears ran down her cheeks. Henry threw a cake of soap overboard. “Wash up, boy.”
“Yes, sir.” Lorenzo caught the soap.
Alec placed an arm around Anya’s shoulders as Mama eased her grip. “Lorenzo is a fine man.” Anya kissed his cheek then leaned over the rail. Lorenzo had his shirt off and was lathering his arms. Even though it wasn’t proper, it was impossible to look away.
He waited for Alec and Mama to walk toward the other side before saying, “Care to join me?” Anya laughed and seriously considered jumping in.
Yia Yia moved closer to her and sniffed. “You stink.” She took Anya by the arm and led her downstairs. A large barrel full of water and fresh flower petals awaited her. “Get in,” Yia Yia ordered after she unbuttoned the back of Anya’s dress.
The cool seawater felt crisp against Anya’s skin. She closed her eyes as Yia Yia poured water over her head with a small pitcher. Scents of lavender, roses, and gardenias filled the air.
“When will we go ashore?” Anya asked as her grandmother scrubbed her hair.
“After the ceremony,” Yia Yia replied, humming the tune Henry had been playing.
Anya wiped water from her eyes in disbelief. “We’re getting married on the ship?”
Yia Yia grumbled and rubbed Anya’s scalp with fervor. “I don’t like it either, child. You should be married in a church.”
“I love it,” Anya said softly, knowing her father would have approved.
“Peter claims he can marry you two at sea.” Yia Yia rinsed Anya’s hair before she climbed out of the barrel and wrapped herself in a towel. Her entire body tingled with the scent of fresh flowers. She spotted her good dress spread on a small bunk. Wishing she had an iron, she attempted to smooth out the wrinkles.
Yia Yia scowled. “I’ll take that on deck and air it out.”
Mama came in, handing Anya a clean chemise. This one was not the ordinary shifts pieced by local women, but one of fine linen. Anya eagerly took the garment and slipped it over her head. Mama picked up a hair comb.
“They’re getting ready on deck,” she replied as she began twisting sections of Anya’s hair. Tight curls were pinned down and left to dry.
“Lorenzo?” Anya asked nervously.
“He finished his bath.” They laughed as light footsteps tapped down the stairs.
Yia Yia entered, placing a package wrapped in brown parchment on Anya’s lap.
Mama looked at her oddly. “The boy thought of everything.”
Anya stared at the package on her knees then untied the cord. She gasped as the paper crinkled back. Mama squealed and, thankfully, Yia Yia approved.
“French,” Yia Yia exclaimed when Anya lifted up a white gown. “The color is strange for a wedding, but Lorenzo insisted I check to make certain it was white.”
“Do American brides wear white?” Mama questioned. Yia Yia looked at Anya, who shrugged her shoulders. “It is the loveliest wedding gown I have ever seen.”
“I love it.” Anya spread the gown out and they marveled over the fine smooth silk, the delicate lace of the bodice, and the tiny buttons trailing down the back.
Mama suddenly grasped her handkerchief and turned away, coughing. Yia Yia eased her down onto the bunk.
Yia Yia helped Anya into the dress then began fussing over her hair. Anya placed the old gloves on her hands as her mind wandered back to yesterday’s events. Henry’s music soothed her fears, bringing hope that the ring would somehow work.
“Finished,” Yia Yia announced.
Anya touched the loose curls that tickled her cheeks. She kissed her grandmother and stood. The dress fit perfectly. Anya had never imagined anything so beautiful. A knock sounded. Yia Yia opened the door, finding Alec dressed in his finest.
“Tatiana.” The sound of his deep, throaty voice made Mama’s eyes flutter open. Alec beamed at her then took her into his arms, carrying her to the door. “I’ll be back.”
“I can walk,” Mama protested lightly.
“No need.” He carried her upstairs and returned moments later. “When Katarina and I reach the deck, Henry will begin to play. That is when you come up the stairs. Ready?”
Anya nodded as Yia Yia turned to leave. Without thinking, Anya reached out, seizing Alec’s arm.
Yia Yia glanced back at Alec, nodded once, and climbed the stairs. “I’ll tell Henry to begin,” she called from the top step.
“Second thoughts?” Alec asked with the protective tenderness of a father. Henry began to play. Anya squelched the urge to escape, the ever persistent need to run that she had felt the past two days.
“None.” Anya tightened her grip on his arm.
“Too bad. I’d enjoy tossing him overboard again.” Alex grinned and then kissed the top of her head.
They ascended the stairs as Henry played. Mama and Yia Yia stood at the stern on the left. Peter and Henry were on the right. Lorenzo stood in the center, fidgeting. He wore a fine black coat with matching vest and trousers. Black buttons dotted his white shirt, and a silk black cravat was tied about his neck. Instantly, Anya felt weak. Alec clasped her hand as Lorenzo looked up.
Their eyes locked. Anya tripped, but Alec steadied her. A silly little grin displayed on Lorenzo’s face. Music filled the air and, somehow, Anya made her way to him. Alec placed her hand on Lorenzo’s arm then kissed her cheek.
“Beautiful.” Lorenzo’s lips mouthed silently.
Peter stood before them, opened a tattered book, and began, “We are gathered here today on this magnificent ship,” Lorenzo raised one eyebrow without looking away from Anya, who giggled. “. . . in the presence of these witnesses, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.” Peter’s brow furrowed. He flipped through a page or two then leaned closer. “I skipped a little since it says that the minister speaks here.” Lorenzo broke into a smile. Katarina groaned loudly.
“Lorenzo, will you have this woman to be thy wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, keep only to her so long as ye both shall live?”
Lorenzo stared into Anya’s eyes and nodded.
Peter leaned over to him. “The book says, ‘the man shall answer, I will.’”
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br /> “I will,” Lorenzo proclaimed.
“Good boy,” Peter chuckled then hiccupped, finding his place with his thumb.
“Anya. Will you have this man to be thy husband? Will you love, honor and keep him in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, keep only unto him so long as ye both shall live?” The scent of rum wafted from his words, but Anya didn’t care.
“I will,” a small voice came out from somewhere within.
Peter took Lorenzo’s right hand and placed it into Anya’s. “Repeat after me, Lorenzo.” Peter read his part. Lorenzo took a deep breath and recited his vows.
Anya tore her eyes from Lorenzo as Peter stated her vows. Before she repeated his words, she looked to her family. Mama and Yia Yia smiled, Alec’s eyes brimmed with tears, and Henry’s grin widened. She raised her eyes to Lorenzo and promised her love to him.
Lorenzo placed his free hand on Anya’s cheek, pulling her close. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, but her lips found the back of Peter’s hand.
“Not yet,” Peter declared, splitting them apart. “What about the ring?” Anya shook her head, for she had none to give. Lorenzo leaned forward, his lips so close she could feel his breath.
“You need a ring.” He reached into his pocket and took out a shiny gold band. Removing the lace glove, he placed the ring on her third finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
“Good, good,” Peter exclaimed then fumbled through the book before clearing his throat. “Lorenzo and Anya, having consented in marriage, come before those present on this fine ship to pledge their faith to each other and declare the same by joining hands. I, captain of this mighty ship, declare they are now husband and wife.”
“Now?” Lorenzo whispered to Peter without taking his eyes off her.
“Uh . . .” Peter flipped through pages, not finding what he was looking for. He hiccupped again, shrugged to the others, and whispered, “Go ahead, Enzo. Kiss your bride.”
Lorenzo bent down as Anya leaned up. Their lips met briefly then locked. Anya didn’t know how long her eyes were closed or when her feet left the deck. She was lost in the kiss that sealed her love for her husband.
Hugs, laughter, and dancing filled the air. Wine, bread, cheese, and delicious pastries were set out. Peter and Alec took turns spinning Anya around the deck until she could barely stand. Henry’s fingers flew across the strings. Mama and Yia Yia clapped along. After several dances, Anya reached gingerly for the rail. Alec took hold of her and, thankfully, guided her toward Lorenzo, who was dancing with Mama.
Alec kissed Anya’s cheek as Lorenzo slid his arm around her waist. She leaned into his strong arms, grateful for the slow music. Anya melted as Lorenzo danced effortlessly. Her feet were clumsy, not knowing the steps, but it didn’t matter. She played with the silk tie around his neck. Lorenzo raised both eyebrows as Anya pushed aside the undone cravat.
Lorenzo waltzed her toward the bow of the ship. “Patience, my love.” Anya placed her cheek on his chest, nuzzling into his warm skin. “You may continue on the island.”
She didn’t comprehend his words for his lips feathered down her neck. Four of his shirt buttons became undone. Anya blushed, not being able to find the English words to excuse the behavior of her naughty hands. He slid the tie off, buttoned the lowest two buttons, and then kissed her forehead.
“One more dance?” He placed her left hand on his shoulder then took the other in his own. Everyone clapped as they whisked by. The music ended when they reached the stern.
“Look.” Lorenzo pointed over the side to a small rowboat loaded with two sacks of supplies. Alec approached before he could explain.
“I must get Tatiana home. She will protest, but if you were on your way, she may be willing,” Alec encouraged.
“Let’s say our goodbyes.” Lorenzo led Anya forward.
“Where are we going?”
Lorenzo nodded toward the island north of where they were anchored.
“Polyaigos?” Anya mused.
“The island of many goats.” He leaned close and whispered, “No people.”
Anya kissed her mother and grandmother then embraced Alec. Peter helped Anya into the rowboat and then roared at Lorenzo. “Get me a bottle of rum.” Lorenzo gave Peter a puzzled look then obeyed, running below deck.
Peter handed Anya a small, heavy sack. “He won’t take it. Please, just in case.” Feeling the shape of a gun within the sack, her eyes met his. Gone were the laughter and drunken haphazard ease; they were replaced with true concern for his friend. Lorenzo’s footsteps sounded. Peter took the sack and placed it in the bottom of the boat. “I’ll return before nightfall. You’ll be safe,” he whispered before kissing her cheek.
Lorenzo gave the rum to Peter, who handed Anya the bottle. “Will you do the honor of christening my ship?” With that request, the awkward moment passed.
“Of course. What is her name?”
“Kalliste,” Peter proudly stated. He winked at Lorenzo and translated, “The most beautiful one.”
“She most certainly is.” Lorenzo eyed Anya. He stepped into the boat by her side.
In a loud voice, Anya announced, “Kalliste” as she broke the bottle against the prow. Cheers rose up. Peter climbed aboard his vessel and untied the rowboat. Lorenzo took the oars as Anya waved to her family.
“Be safe my friends,” Peter hoisted a sail.
“Aye,” Lorenzo called as the Kalliste grew smaller and smaller.
Several seals barked greetings from a nearby cove. In no time, the boat hit soft sand. Lorenzo gracefully swept Anya into his arms. Her fingers were already entangled in his hair. She buried her face into his chest, breathing in his salty-sea scent.
“We’re alone.” He lifted her face tenderly. Anya closed her eyes and tasted his lips. Lorenzo’s body jolted. Placing her upon her feet, he broke away, kicking a goat that had butted his thigh. Anya giggled, gazing out to sea. Her eyes widened as she pointed to their rowboat floating away from shore.
Lorenzo ran into the water. He retrieved the vessel then removed his soaked shirt, draping it across the bow to dry. The goat rooted in the boat, nibbling on a small sack. Lorenzo wrenched it away from the goat and then examined it suspiciously.
“Peter put it there.” Anya felt as if she had betrayed him.
Lorenzo took the pistol out and examined it briefly. “He’s wise to be cautious. Alec agreed to our stay as long as Peter supervised.” Tucking the gun into his belt, he gave her an encouraging smile. Anya didn’t understand the meaning of his words but had a feeling she wouldn’t like them.
“Peter will return before dark,” Lorenzo added.
She clearly understood this. Anya ached to be alone with Lorenzo and not for a mere few hours. Managing a weak smile, she fumbled with the sack of supplies. Together they flipped the boat over to protect their food from the curious goats.
“Allow me.” Lorenzo spread a blanket on the sand. Anya watched him build a small fire and heat water for tea. He poured two cups. Anya closed her eyes and inhaled the scent, blackberry mint, Lorenzo’s favorite.
“A gift from Henry.” Lorenzo had once mentioned how this particular tea reminded him of America. Everyone’s preparations and thoughtfulness touched her, and at that moment, she felt blessed.
Her eyes scanned his bare chest and arms then lowered to the pistol tucked in his belt. Anya’s stomach churned with thoughts of Lubber and the man with the curly black hair. She worried that they may have been followed. Lorenzo sipped his tea, eyeing the sea. Peter had been truly concerned, and she saw Lorenzo’s creased forehead. The cup in her hand began to shake, so she placed it in the sand.
“Anya, what is it?” His distressed voice caused tears to spring into her eyes. Despite being held close, she trembled. “Don’t be afraid. I’d never let anyone hurt you, esp
ecially me.” Anya clung to him. “We can wait.” He slowly rocked her in his arms. A minute passed before she comprehended his words.
“No. Not afraid of you. Pirates?”
Lorenzo’s face broke into a huge grin. Taking a deep breath, he held her firmly by both shoulders. “We are safe from the pirates. Peter will return very soon.”
Anya couldn’t hide her disappointment. A childish tear streamed down her hot cheek. “I want you, not . . . Peter.”
Lorenzo sighed and hugged her so tight a little squeal came out. Taking her face into both of his hands, he looked at her, not as a child, but as a woman. “Peter went back to Milos to drop off the others and pick up his crew. When he returns, the ship will anchor off shore, far off shore. They will keep watch. No one will disturb us tonight. Not pirates, not Peter—” Behind them the goat bleated. “Only goats.” Lorenzo kissed the top of her head.
Anya snuggled into his arms, closing her eyes in complete bliss.
“Anya, they’re here.” She lifted her head off Lorenzo’s lap. “You fell asleep.” He brushed away a wisp of hair that was stuck in the corner of her mouth. Anya watched the Kalliste drop anchor, several hundred meters away, with Peter on deck, barking orders to his crew. Lorenzo cupped her cheek. “He circled the island twice.” His voice sounded low, relaxed, ready.
Anya’s eyes remained on the ship, yet her thoughts were on Lorenzo. She wanted this night to be perfect for him, as perfect as the day was for her. A gentle breeze blew off the sea as she leaned against him. His hands traced the delicate patterns of lace on her gown. She slowly turned around, lifting her hair.
A soft sigh sounded as Lorenzo fumbled with the tiny fastenings down the back of her gown. The tight bodice loosened one button at a time. With the last one free, the dress hung loose on her shoulders. She felt his lips move slowly down her neck, sending shivers throughout her body. One sleeve lowered to her elbow. Anya eased out of it, gently tugging on the other. Lorenzo kissed her shoulder as the dress slipped farther.
