Aubrielle's Call (28 page)

“Pete, can you climb behind our young mother to be?”

“Aye, sir.” He stowed his oar and shifted closer.

The second woman had reached the top, and one followed halfway up the ladder.

“I’ll be fine,” Lucie whispered to Aubrielle. “I’m very strong.”

Aubrielle nodded, glanced at Kenneth Rice, then rose to take her turn up the Jacob’s ladder. At the mid-point of the climb, her arms started to tremble. Just when she thought she would fall, strong hands reached for her and pulled her onto the deck.

Moments later, Lucie stood beside her.

Pete Sweeney called across the deck. “John Larson’s on the beach. We’re going back for him. Let Master Keats know.”

Aubrielle pushed her way to the railing and watched Pete and Kenneth paddle away from the big ship.

A line of smaller boats had formed and the ladder filled with men climbing to the deck. Across the water, smoke and fog marred her view. She counted the boats as they dislodged men. Five. Fifteen. Thirty.

The surreal calm of the channel’s water returned to its normal choppy state.

“Excuse me, miss.” A stocky, thick-necked sailor nodded to Aubrielle. “You’ll need to come away from the rail. The master has ordered us back to Dover.”

“What?” Aubrielle knocked the sailor’s hand away. “We can’t leave yet.”

The sailor directed her forward to the base of the wheelhouse.

Lucie sat, her back against the metal housing.

Aubrielle pulled from his grip. “We can’t leave John.”

“The master said to get the civilians away from the rail. Please, sit with your friend.”

Aubrielle dodged his grasp, ducked around another sailor and ran to the rail. She looked down at the ladder as Pete Sweeney looked up.

“Where’s John?” Aubrielle called, then slapped at the muscular sailor who tried to pull her away from the rail. “Let me be!”

“You need to come away from the rail, miss.”

“I’ll take her, Taylor. She can be a handful.”

The sound of John’s voice squeezed all the pent-up emotion from her eyes. As soon as Taylor released her, she spun toward John. Her toes left the deck as she jumped, wrapping her arms around John’s neck.

John caught her and limped away from the rail.  “Shh, my love. Why are you crying?” John set her on her feet and brushed at the steady stream of tears on her cheek.

“You’re injured.” She pushed back and stared at his torn and bloody slacks.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. I took a round just before Ken and Pete returned. They fished me from the water.”

“I thought they were leaving you.” She pointed toward the rail. “I waited and counted boats. Then that big sailor said we were leaving and told me to stand back.”

She gripped his waist and cried. Tears of anger. Tears of relief and exhaustion.

John leaned against the wheelhouse and held her close. “We’re on the
Giselle-Marie
, among friends. We’ll be all right.”

Pete made his way across the deck and stopped before them. “Master Keats wants to see you, John.”

“Now?” he asked.

“Now. You know the way.”

CHAPTER 37

John knocked on the master’s office door.

“Come.”

Inside, Master Keats sat behind the desk in her officer’s uniform. Her auburn-gray hair braided in a crown around her head. “I see you’ve rejoined us, Mister Larson.”

“Yes, sir. Fortunate for me.”

Her brows drew together, and she rose to her feet. “They didn’t tell me you were injured.”

“I took a round in the leg just before Mister Rice returned to the beach. We were under heavy fire, ma’am. He and Pete pulled me from the sea.”

“You’ll have our medic look at that.”

“Yes, sir.”

She walked to the front of the desk and leaned against it. “Tell me, did you find who you searched for in France?”

A muscle near his mouth twitched. “As a matter of fact, I did.” He pressed his lips to hold back the grin, but when his gaze met her laughing eyes, he smiled.

“So I heard, Mr. Larson. Rumor also tells me she wears an exquisite engagement ring.” Master Keats folded her arms, her smile genuine and happy.

“Yes, sir.”

“Congratulations, John,” she said. Her enthusiasm faded along with her smile. Long thin brows drew together as she lowered her chin. Unlike her usual confident tone, she spoke in a quiet voice with her eyes closed. “I have a family member.” She swallowed. “Someone close to me that I haven’t been able to contact. I fear he’s—”

“Your brother?”

Master Keat’s head came up. “Do you know what has become of Fran
çois
?”

“I think I do.”

Impatience flashed in her eyes as she searched John’s face.

“He sent me a message two weeks ago.” John stroked the unfamiliar growth of hair on his jaw. “
He planned to leave Paris and travel south to the Azure coast.
He urged us to do the same.”

Her chest rose and fell. A deep sigh escaped her nostrils. “Then I have hope.” She looked up, blinked and covered her mouth in time for a tear to trickle down her thumb.

“I wish I could tell you more.” John raised a hand of comfort to her shoulder, but she pulled away.

“You’ve given me a direction to search, and I thank you.” She wiped away the evidence of her emotional relief.

John remained straight and tall and gave the respect the master deserved. “Your brother is an intelligent man. I’m sure he made it to safety.”

Her gray eyes crinkled at the edges, and she managed to regain her smile. She cleared her throat. “At this moment, Mr. Larson, I have a full crew. Your old bunk is not available. However, the passenger suite is vacant. I suggest you retire to the small cabin immediately with your bride-to-be before this crowd discovers the empty room.”

“Thank you, sir.” John nodded and turned to go.

“Will you be leaving us in Dover with the rest of the evacuees?”

John looked over his shoulder.

Master Keats pushed away from the desk and faced him. “After Dover, we’ll set sail for Boston. The war effort still needs us.” She shrugged one shoulder. “You’d be welcome to remain in the passenger suite for the voyage if Boston is your destination.”

“Honestly, sir, I hadn’t thought we’d have a choice. Let me speak to Aubrielle and I’ll let you know.”

“Is that her name? Aubrielle?”

“Yes, sir. You’ll like her.”

“I’m sure I will, Mr. Larson. Glad to have you back on board.” She dismissed John with a nod and stern instructions. “See the medic as soon as you leave my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

John paused outside the master’s closed door. His relief that he and Aubrielle had escaped the coast of France to the relative security of the
Giselle-Marie
was profound. And yet his gut still churned with anxiety.

While Nescato lived and hunted him, there would be no real safety. What her ultimate goal was, he could not imagine. Certainly, she must know the loathing he carried in his heart for the witch. Perhaps she hoped to end both their cursed lives.

Aubrielle’s and Sweeney’s laughter echoed up the metal stairs.

For now, John’s only concern would be Aubrielle’s happiness and well-being.

When the emptiness of the in-between claimed him once again, John would turn his thoughts to hunting Nescato. Until that time, he had a life to live with the woman he loved. A woman who deserved all the affection and protection John could provide. He balled his fist against the metal housing.

No specter from our ancient past will find us or harm Aubrielle. This I swear.

* * *

They sailed into the setting sun, a bright cool day on the North Atlantic with following winds.

Aubrielle had been surprised when John suggested it, but now that the day had arrived, she couldn’t have been happier with their decision.
America. And this.

Master Keats had invited Aubrielle to her quarters and the two women bonded over their love of beautiful clothes. Master Keats, who asked Aubrielle to call her Giselle, had an entire wall filled with gorgeous dresses and gowns.

“I dress up whenever we are in port. It’s been so long since I’ve worn more than my Captain’s uniform. I’m sure we’ll find something here for you to wear. We’re close to the same size.”

Kenneth Rice, the tallest man on board next to John, loaned him a suit. “The finest I own.” Ken had whispered to Aubrielle. “I hope it passes muster.’

“I’m sure it will be fine, Ken. You’re very generous.”

The crew wore their dress uniforms. John’s closest friends among the crew formed an honor guard on each side of the passage from the steps to where John stood with the ship’s master.

Aubrielle beamed at them as she descended stairs from the forward housing. She wore the evening gown she and Giselle had chosen—white lace over a beige silk under slip. The V-neck draped with layered white lace folded back over her shoulders. She’d never felt so elegant.

I wish Papa and Tante Mae could see me.
She pressed her lips.
I will not cry.

At the end of the aisle of seamen stood John and Master Keats.

John took her hand and leaned forward to kiss her.

“Mister Larson,” Master Keats sharp voice stopped him. “You will kiss the bride at the proper time, Seaman.”

John faced the ship’s master and grinned. “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s begin.” She paused and looked at the men on the ship, and then her attention focused on John and Aubrielle.

“John and Aubrielle, today you celebrate one of life’s greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love, as you join in the vows of marriage.

“The night I met John, I asked him to tie a fisherman’s knot. He informed me that he could not, for a fisherman’s knot requires two lines. He was correct.”

She handed John two single lines of hemp rope.

“My late husband once told me a fisherman’s knot was also called a lover’s knot. Under pressure, this fastening will increase in strength to form an unbreakable bond.”

While Master Keats spoke, John tied both ends of the lines together in a loose knot and handed one of the ropes to Aubrielle.

“The knots at each end of the double line represent the two of you.” Master Keats nodded to John and Aubrielle.

“Pull,” John said to Aubrielle.

Her face lit in delight as the double knots at each end slid together and met at the center of the ropes. Two lines had become one.

The master’s voice rose as she looked over the assembly on the deck of her ship. “This is a bond that will not break. Like your love, the knots strength will increase and endure each trial.” She waited until all voices were silent and all eyes fixed on her before she continued.

“John, do you take Aubrielle to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, forsaking all others and holding only unto her?”

John squeezed Aubrielle’s hand and looked into her eyes. “I do.”

“Aubrielle, do you take John to be your husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all other and holding only unto him?”

“Yes, I do.” Aubrielle blinked at her tears, her smile wide with happiness.

“I assume there are no rings.”

“I have her ring.” John reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver ring, polished to a glossy shine.

“When did you get that? It’s beautiful.” Aubrielle held out her hand. “Can I see it?”

“There are words inside.” John gave her the ring.

She held it up and read the inscription. “
Today Tomorrow Forever—A&J.
” Stunned, her gaze sought his. “It’s perfect. How did you manage this?”

“We should finish,” Master Keats whispered. “Place the ring on her finger, John, and repeat after me. “Wear this ring forever, Aubrielle as a symbol of our love, for like this ring, our love will have no end.”

John repeated the vow and slipped the ring onto Aubrielle’s finger. A perfect fit.

“Aubrielle, if you would repeat your vows after me.

“I wrote my own vows,” Aubrielle said, never looking away from John’s face.

“Of course, you did.” Master Keats closed her book and nodded to Aubrielle. “Please proceed.”

“I love you, John. But it’s more than that. I love how I’ve blossomed, who I’ve become, because of you. You’ve brought both love and magic into my life.” She wiped a tear, but continued, looking into his eyes with a watery smile.

“I never want to live without those things or the beauty of your love. I am yours, and because of you, I believe in an eternity where I always will be yours. If there comes a day when I don’t recognize you, please know I’ll still love you. You’ll only need to take my hand, and the magic will be reborn.”

John lifted her hand and kissed the rings on her fingers. “May I kiss my bride, Master Keats?”

“Yes. Please do, Mister Larson.”

John tipped Aubrielle’s chin up and touched his lips to hers. In a whisper meant only for her ears, he said, “I make you one last vow, my love. I will always answer when you call.”