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 tell 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 etched 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.
A burst of unseasonal sunshine greeted them as they emerged onto the church’s front steps. Royd dragged his gaze from Isobel’s face, looked ahead, and laughed.
Isobel followed his gaze and discovered a long avenue of uniformed figures with swords raised in honor. “Good Lord!”
There were army, navy, and merchantman uniforms, along with others she didn’t recognize. And in between, she spied many young cousins—both hers and Royd’s—skulking.
She looked at Royd.
He arched a brow at her. “Shall we?”
She laughed. “Yes—but let’s run.”
She hiked up her skirts, and they ran, weathering a storm of rice and flowers to emerge, still laughing, at the end of the long line.
Their groomsmen and attendants, now all married, followed. Caleb and Kate had returned from their honeymoon in time for Kate to be fitted for her gown.
The church was mere yards from Carmody Place, and the entire congregation had been invited to a wedding breakfast destined to feature in the annals of Aberdeen.
Royd and Isobel circulated among their guests, accepting congratulations and thanking those who had traveled, some from considerable distance, to attend.
The company sat in the great hall for a sumptuous meal, then the toasts began. While there were tales, jokes, and laughter aplenty, ultimately, Iona had the last word. Isobel’s cantankerous grandmother rose to her feet, recommended everyone charge their glasses, then raised hers and, with startling brevity, declared, “About time.”
Everyone cheered and drank to that, Royd and Isobel included.
Then the music began, and Isobel rose, her hand in Royd’s. They whirled down the floor to unstinting applause.
Once the bridal party, and then all others so inclined, had joined them on the floor, she smiled, let Royd draw her nearer, and rested her head on his shoulder. “About time,” she murmured.
“At last,” he replied.
Later, when she returned from changing out of her silk gown, and the ritual of tossing the wedding bouquet was upon them, instead of taking aim, she held to tradition, turned her back to the expectant crowd, and flung her bouquet—somewhat exuberantly—over her shoulder.
The force of her throw had the bouquet clearing the heads of all the eager cousins and young ladies vying to catch it. It sailed on, then abruptly descended, hitting one outstretched hand, then another, before Kit Frobisher reflexively caught it. Her laughing expression transformed to one of horror. She stared at the bouquet as if it were a snake. She shook her head. “Oh no. No, no, no.”
She looked up, and Isobel, who had turned to see, caught her eyes and smiled widely.
Kit narrowed her eyes. She looked around wildly. “Here.” She thrust the bouquet at the nearest young lady.
Who, grinning, held up her hands. “Oh no—I couldn’t possibly.”
No matter who Kit approached, no one would take the bouquet from her.
Isobel walked up; although she managed not to laugh, she was smiling. “It’s no use. What’s done is done, and I should warn you it’s a family tradition that’s never failed to deliver.”
“Your family.” Kit frowned at the offending bouquet. “Not the Frobishers.”
“Ah, but the Carmodys are now inextricably linked to the Frobishers.” Isobel leaned close and lowered her voice. “Were I you, I’d keep my eyes peeled. Someone is coming your way.”
Kit met her gaze through narrowed eyes. “That someone had better keep his distance if he has any notion of what’s good for him.”
Isobel laughed and allowed Royd to draw her away.
They circled the room again. Isobel was content to chat, but Royd had other plans—plans he’d shared with no one but their son.
Very aware of the shenanigans that, especially in the circumstances, were likely to be played on him and his bride, he’d arranged a decoy. A smart phaeton and pair presently sat in the drive; various items were, even then, being attached to its axles and rear.
He bided his time. Carmody Place was a very old house. From Duncan, he’d learned of the secret routes leading from the great hall; he chose his moment and whisked Isobel through a hidden door. Surprised, she looked at him.
“Come on.” He took her hand and led her quickly through a maze of minor corridors to the rear of the huge house—where Duncan sat in a plain gig, concentrating as he held the reins.
Jeb, the old head groom, laconically holding the horse’s head, was the only other soul around. He grinned and tipped his hat to them as Royd helped Isobel up to the seat. “Good luck to ye, both.”
“Thank you, Jeb.” Isobel waited until Royd climbed in on Duncan’s other side and started the horse trotting down the rear drive before asking, “Where are we going?”
Over Duncan’s head, Royd met her gaze. “Home.”
He drove them to the manor at Banchory-Devenick.
When he drew the horses to a halt before the weathered gray stone façade, Duncan jumped down and ran to the front door. Isobel waited for Royd to hand her down. He left the gig in the care of a young groom and steered her inside.
She’d been there before, but only as a visitor. Now...felt different. For a start, the house was curiously quiet. “Where is everyone?”
“Papa decided now would be a good time to pay a visit to the Bristol office. He and Mama will sail with Kit on Consort—they’ll be leaving on this evening’s tide. As I assume Aileen mentioned, she and Robert are heading to New York on a belated wedding cruise, while Declan, unsurprisingly, wants to have Edwina back in London as soon as possible—her mother will be staying with them in Stanhope Street until after the baby’s born. So The Trident and The Cormorant will also sail tonight.” Royd arched his brows. “Believe it or not, Caleb and Kate have decided to live at Carmody Place, at least for the moment. Kate said that with you and Duncan gone, Iona will feel lonely, and Caleb pointed out that Carmody Place is closer to the office and the docks than the manor.”
Royd halted at the bottom of the stairs and faced her. “We haven’t discussed where we should live.” He glanced around. “If you’d rather be in town—”
“No.” She shook her head. “This is where we should be.” She’d known that the instant she’d walked in the door—a sensation as if the house had embraced her. “But I’ve never been beyond the drawing room.” She looked at him. “Show me.”
He took her over the entire house. It was larger than she’d imagined, a solid structure built of local gray stone that had been added to and added to over the generations.
He halted in a large first-floor room at the end of one wing. “This is the wing I thought we should have.” He nodded to the view of lawns bordered by woods. “It’s the most private, and there are rooms aplenty for Duncan and a nursery, and studies for us, as well as a private parlor should we feel the need to escape the bustle that sometimes overtakes the rest of the house.”
“It’s perfect.” She stood before the window. It was perfect in so many ways, not least because he would be there, Duncan would be, too, and they would be part of a larger family. It was what she was used to and also what she needed. But...
When he came to stand beside her and look out of the window, too, she glanced at his face, briefly studied it, then asked, “Will it be enough, do you think—the inventing and designing and commissioning, along with the occasional trip?”
Outside, Duncan was running in circles on the lawn, chasing a puppy Isobel hadn’t seen before.
Royd turned his head, met her eyes, and smiled—an expression far softer than he usually let show. “One thing I’ve learned through all our years—life is for living, and family is life. Nothing can or ever will take me away from this, because nothing can or ever will matter more.”
She saw the truth of his words in his eyes. She smiled a touch mistily. “Iona has a saying that, until today, didn’t apply to me. She’s always insisted that home is where the heart is.” She raised a hand and placed it over his heart. “Over all our years, my heart has never been anywhere else but here.”
He raised his hand and placed it over hers. “As I’ve said repeatedly, Mrs. Frobisher, we make an excellent team.”
THE END
I hope you’ve enjoyed the adventure and the romances of The Adventurers Quartet. In many ways, the series name said it all—it wasn’t just the heroes who were adventurers, but their respective ladies, too! If you have enjoyed the journey and feel so inclined, do share your thoughts with a review here.
As most of you will know, my works are usually set in Britain, mostly in England or Scotland, but when your heroes and their ladies are of swashbuckling ilk—those who will boldly go wherever life’s challenges take them—then remaining in Britain simply wouldn’t have worked. These characters needed a broader and less civilized stage on which to make their marks, and bigger, wilder challenges to test them and reveal their true strengths. I chose West Africa and the town of Freetown as the setting for this series because it was a place where the British were already established, and at the same time, it was, indeed, very much a frontier, with all the dangers and associated lawlessness. I hope you had fun walking on the wild side—through dusty streets and jungles, and pacing on the decks of ships racing before the wind—rather than down Pall Mall.
Using such a very different setting to my usual circles of the British haut ton was also intended to provide a refreshing break before I return for more tales of the Cynster Next Generation, namely the trilogy, Devil’s Brood—three connected tales of romance and intrigue coming to you later in 2017.
Until then, happy reading!
Stephanie.
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If by chance you missed the previous volumes in THE ADVENTURERS QUARTET, look for THE LADY’S COMMAND, A BUCCANEER AT HEART, and THE DAREDEVIL SNARED to read the first, second, and third stages of the adventure, respectively detailing the uniquely thrilling journey into marriage of Declan Frobisher and his new wife, Lady Edwina, the meeting and entirely unexpected romance between Robert Frobisher and the bossy Miss Aileen Hopkins, and the love that blooms between Caleb Frobisher and Katherine Fortescue within the confines of the mining compound.
And if you missed Stephanie’s recent three releases in her long running Cynster series, further details can be found by clicking on the titles: