smiling faces of those who wanted to celebrate with her and John. Farther back were staff members and ship officers.
She ordered her tears not to fall.
Harriett handed her a bouquet of pink, red, and white roses tied with a satin bow and said, "Breathe, dear." The band began to play "The Bridal Chorus."
She hardly saw anyone, but kept her eyes on John, facing her. She reached him and took his outstretched hand. They stood for a moment looking at each other with their sides to the audience.
"The bouquet," Caroline whispered, and she handed it to her. She and John faced the captain.
"Who gives this woman to be wed?"
"We do," sounded a few feminine and a couple of masculine voices in unison. Lydia suppressed a nervous giggle. They'd rehearsed a few things without her knowledge.
"Dearly beloved," Captain Smith said solemnly. Lydia felt the light squeeze of John's fingers.
The only other time she held her breath was during the part about objections being stated or one should forever hold his peace.
He . . . did.
At the appropriate time, little Henry held out the cushion on which gleamed two golden wedding bands. One was Caroline's. John must have gotten the other one from the jeweler.
She could hardly believe the words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
There was a pause.
No applause?
The captain couldn't keep the humor from his face. "You may now kiss the bride."
John leaned toward her.
That's when the applause sounded. And the cheers.
For a moment she detected restraint in them both, but then she felt the touch of his hand behind her neck. She raised her face to his and closed her eyes and felt his warm, soft lips touch hers. They did not demand but rested gently, and she felt the overwhelming feeling of passion rising within her, so strong, so beautiful, so knowing they belonged together.
Their lips did not seem to move, and it was as if the life flowed from each and they truly became one. Like a first kiss. Like a first time.
The other time was forgiven and—
Well . . . forgiven.
John drew away and looked into her face with moist eyes, reflecting what she felt. Well-brought up men didn't cry in public, perhaps not at all. Ah, let them not. Her man did, because he loved her. And those were the first words he said to her as her husband.
"I love you."
"I love you right back."
As the applause receded, Caroline told her to stay there for a moment. "The photographers must have their day."
While she and John held hands and faced the guests, Lady Lavinia took Henry's hand. They descended the staircase amid applause.
Phoebe descended like a princess. Lydia knew that girl would never forget this night. She wouldn't be content to have an ordinary wedding after being a part of this.
With what Lydia called his practiced smile, Craven stepped up and offered his arm to Caroline. She handed the bouquet to Lydia and placed her hand on his arm, and they descended together.
The captain stepped up and put a hand on their shoulders. "Before I formally present the bride and groom, I believe they have a chore to perform. All the single ladies gather to my right and the single gentlemen to my left, please."
Several gathered, even some divorcees and widows. Phoebe was the youngest. When Lydia leaned over the railing and threw her bouquet, the older ones didn't attempt to catch it. It was caught by a young lady who looked to be about seventeen.
The captain smiled. "One more little chore." He gestured to a chair someone had set against the wall.
"Do the honors," said a voice that sounded like Molly's.
Lydia looked at John, and he shrugged. She walked over and sat in the chair, turning away from the crowd. John knelt in front of her.
Her ankles had been exposed for all to see, but the location of the garter was for John's eyes only. She'd placed it right above her knee. John discreetly removed it, stood, and held it up amid applause and a couple "Hear, hear's."
They walked to the railing.
"Come on, men," John
She ordered her tears not to fall.
Harriett handed her a bouquet of pink, red, and white roses tied with a satin bow and said, "Breathe, dear." The band began to play "The Bridal Chorus."
She hardly saw anyone, but kept her eyes on John, facing her. She reached him and took his outstretched hand. They stood for a moment looking at each other with their sides to the audience.
"The bouquet," Caroline whispered, and she handed it to her. She and John faced the captain.
"Who gives this woman to be wed?"
"We do," sounded a few feminine and a couple of masculine voices in unison. Lydia suppressed a nervous giggle. They'd rehearsed a few things without her knowledge.
"Dearly beloved," Captain Smith said solemnly. Lydia felt the light squeeze of John's fingers.
The only other time she held her breath was during the part about objections being stated or one should forever hold his peace.
He . . . did.
At the appropriate time, little Henry held out the cushion on which gleamed two golden wedding bands. One was Caroline's. John must have gotten the other one from the jeweler.
She could hardly believe the words, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
There was a pause.
No applause?
The captain couldn't keep the humor from his face. "You may now kiss the bride."
John leaned toward her.
That's when the applause sounded. And the cheers.
For a moment she detected restraint in them both, but then she felt the touch of his hand behind her neck. She raised her face to his and closed her eyes and felt his warm, soft lips touch hers. They did not demand but rested gently, and she felt the overwhelming feeling of passion rising within her, so strong, so beautiful, so knowing they belonged together.
Their lips did not seem to move, and it was as if the life flowed from each and they truly became one. Like a first kiss. Like a first time.
The other time was forgiven and—
Well . . . forgiven.
John drew away and looked into her face with moist eyes, reflecting what she felt. Well-brought up men didn't cry in public, perhaps not at all. Ah, let them not. Her man did, because he loved her. And those were the first words he said to her as her husband.
"I love you."
"I love you right back."
As the applause receded, Caroline told her to stay there for a moment. "The photographers must have their day."
While she and John held hands and faced the guests, Lady Lavinia took Henry's hand. They descended the staircase amid applause.
Phoebe descended like a princess. Lydia knew that girl would never forget this night. She wouldn't be content to have an ordinary wedding after being a part of this.
With what Lydia called his practiced smile, Craven stepped up and offered his arm to Caroline. She handed the bouquet to Lydia and placed her hand on his arm, and they descended together.
The captain stepped up and put a hand on their shoulders. "Before I formally present the bride and groom, I believe they have a chore to perform. All the single ladies gather to my right and the single gentlemen to my left, please."
Several gathered, even some divorcees and widows. Phoebe was the youngest. When Lydia leaned over the railing and threw her bouquet, the older ones didn't attempt to catch it. It was caught by a young lady who looked to be about seventeen.
The captain smiled. "One more little chore." He gestured to a chair someone had set against the wall.
"Do the honors," said a voice that sounded like Molly's.
Lydia looked at John, and he shrugged. She walked over and sat in the chair, turning away from the crowd. John knelt in front of her.
Her ankles had been exposed for all to see, but the location of the garter was for John's eyes only. She'd placed it right above her knee. John discreetly removed it, stood, and held it up amid applause and a couple "Hear, hear's."
They walked to the railing.
"Come on, men," John
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