Rosalind sat with Randel upon the ship’s highest deck, patiently awaiting their turn to be rowed ashore to Tripoli. The ship rocked subtly from side to side, and the sun stroked her cheeks with hazy warmth on this surprisingly mild summer day. The children had rushed to shore to meet their Tripolian friends at first opportunity, but neither she nor Randel had been in a hurry to disembark.
Nor was she in a hurry to have the conversation that was long overdue between them. Rosalind was content to just sit awhile quietly in his soothing presence, rocking atop the sea. For after today, he might well leave with the Templars, and she might never see him again.
Forward, ever forward, she reminded herself. She must focus ahead on seeing her family, for she had much to set right with her mother. And she must fervently pray that they would all be well and whole when she returned, for tragedy could easily strike, even in the relative peace and safety of her native North Britannia.
Looking down at her lute, she strummed a chord that Randel had taught her just that afternoon, then switched to a second and a third. For the first time they had no pressing duties, and the idea of playing at instruments had not seemed a ludicrous pursuit. Her fingers yet felt thick and clumsy, but she was adjusting to the strings and patterns. With her three chords, she could play a simple ballad of a maiden in love with a shepherd.
Finally, Randel spoke. “’Tis good that Lady Honoria has decided to head home soon. It takes longer to fight the winds back toward England, and since it is July already, too much delay would mean waiting for a spring departure.”
Rosalind sat aside her lute. Nothing in his speech gave away his own intentions, but a different point caught her notice. “July already! ’Tis my birth month. I suppose I am eighteen now.”
Randel grinned her way. “Goodness, you are practically an old maid.”
She gave him a playful shove. “That is only among the nobility. We peasant folk are much more practical concerning love and marriage. I am in no rush.”
“So are you indeed open to the idea of love now?”
“I find that I am. The trial seems to have provided the finishing touch on the work God has been doing in my heart for some time. Was it only last night?”
“Believe it or not,” Randel said. “It seems weeks ago.”
Rosalind shook her head in wonder. “People have treated me no differently since they learned of my shame. That is a balm to my soul. And something shifted inside of me when the children prayed.”
He sat up straighter. “Truly? I had the same experience. Which brings up something I need to speak with you about.”
Here it was. The moment she had been both anticipating and dreading. “Yes?”
“A while back you asked me to remain open to whatever path God might lay upon my heart. What I did not tell you at the time was that my heart was too wracked by pain and guilt to ever hear clearly from God.”
“Oh. And now?” She took in a deep breath and held it as she awaited his answer.
“And now everything is as clear as the blue sky overhead. I never felt called to join the church in an official capacity. That was all my parents’ plan. What I do feel called to . . . undeniably and irrevocably . . . is loving you, Maid Rosalind of Ipsworth, and spending the rest of my life with you.”
Rosalind’s mouth gaped open. She could not find her words.
“That is, if you shall have me.” He grinned at her with his crooked, breezy smile.
“Of . . . of . . .” She blinked several times at the man sitting on the wooden deck beside her, as she still tried to digest this news. “But wait! What of your family? They shall never accept me.”
He grazed her cheek with his hand. “My parents have sworn to disown me if I do not join the church. I cannot see how this is any of their business now.”
“What of your legacy? Your fortune? Your future?”
“I am but a fourth son, and I was about to take vows of poverty and chastity. I fear no loss, except the loss of you at my side. I love you, and I want to marry you. We shall face the future with the courage we have learned on this crusade, and we shall make a life together.”
Of a sudden, a shyness overtook her. She looked down at her hands, wringing in her lap. She could not believe he would give up so much. For her. For Rosalind of Ipsworth. A woman who had committed unspeakable sins.
He tipped up her face and gazed deep into her eyes. Seeming to read her thoughts, he said, “Forward, ever forward.”
Yes, their mantra, more true now than ever.
Then he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead. “You are precious.”
And on the tip of her nose. “You are righteous.”
Then his lips met hers in the sweetest kiss she could ever imagine. She waited for him to say you are His, as he had at the trial. But instead, he uttered the words, “You are mine.”
All air swept from her lungs. She pulled back just an inch to see his treasured features and studied them for a moment. “Of course I shall marry you, Randel. And I own a cottage. On Sir Allen’s land.”
“A cottage.” He echoed her words as if a cottage were the most blissful thing imaginable. “And I shall apply to him as a knight.”
“We shall make a life, together,” she said in wonder, pressing her forehead to his.
A flutter near their heads caused them to jerk apart.
“Oh, my goodness.” Rosalind took in the sight of the small yellow-and-grey bird that alit on the rail nearby. “It cannot be.”
Randel’s grin stretched wide across his face. “It is. The Syrian serin, at last.”
He stood and took a step toward it. “What are you doing all the way out here on this ship, you silly little fellow?”
The bird twisted his head and eyed Randel, but did not flee. It let forth its long, trilling call.
“’Tis so lovely,” Rosalind whispered. “Shall I fetch a net?”
“That is what I had hoped for. But after all we have been through on this trip, I am thinking that every one of God’s creatures deserves to be free and choose their own paths in life. What think you?”
“I absolutely agree.” Rosalind stood and joined him, slipping easily under his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.
“I want to marry you soon,” Randel said against her hair. “Aboard the ship. Then there shall be nothing my parents can do to stop us.”
“Perfect.” And it was. The sky above her seemed to radiate with God’s pleasure. The ship took on a special sort of glow. She was overcome with a wash of warmth and pure joy. A lightness, a cleanness swathed about her. She felt as if she just might float away. She now had a true destiny, a true purpose. She would embrace her future and never again make the mistake of striving to earn her own redemption.
Then they melted back into another kiss. One of many they would share throughout a lifetime together.