Sails on the Horizon

by Jay Worrall

  “I see,” Weddlestone said, letting his breath out slowly. “You are certain that she will no longer follow her previous religion?”

  “She will certainly be disowned,” Charles said, choosing his words carefully.

  “Well, that changes everything.” The rector smiled tentatively. “I see no reason why you should not be wed. What date would you like?”

  “Saturday.”

  “Saturday? I can’t possibly—”

  “Saturday,” Charles repeated firmly. “A very small, very simple, very brief ceremony on Saturday morning. No choirs or music or anything like that. I wrote to you about this in plenty of time. I’m sure you can arrange to postdate the banns and do anything else that might need fixing. Saturday.”

  ___

  OUTSIDE, HE FOUND Penny sitting tensely on a bench in the garden with her hands folded tightly in her lap and clutching a handkerchief. “It’s all agreed,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “Saturday morning.”

  “The priest has agreed to the ceremony?” She looked both incredulous and angry. “Charlie, I cannot—”

  “No, no,” he said reassuringly, lowering himself onto the bench and taking her hands in his own. “It’s settled. Everything is fixed. It will be fine, you’ll see. He’s looking forward to the ceremony. It was only a small misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding? A small misunderstanding?” She tried to pull her hands away but he tightened his grip. “What misunderstanding could that pompous, arrogant, uncaring, heathenous priest have had? I cannot—” She stopped in midsentence, her chest heaving. He could see that she was on the verge of tears. She stared down at their hands in her lap and then up into Charles’s face. After a deep breath, she said, “What misunderstanding?”

  “I only had to explain to him some of the practices of Quakers,” Charles answered almost proudly. “Now he sees things differently.”

  “Thou explained the practices of Quakers?”

  “Yes,” Charles continued, speaking rapidly. “Also, I don’t think he truly appreciated the extent to which I control his livelihood.”

  “Thou threatened the priest?”

  “I did not. I educated him. And please call him a minister, vicar, or rector. I don’t think he likes being called a priest.”

  Penny sat silently on the bench, staring fixedly at her lap again and nibbling on her lower lip for a moment in deep concentration, as if attempting to digest what he had said and trying to decide whether it answered her objections.

  “You see, it’s all right now,” Charles offered hopefully. He studied her carefully as her expression by degrees softened. He patted her hand reassuringly.

  Abruptly her brow furrowed and she turned to face him. “Saturday?” she exclaimed in alarm. “That’s only five days! How couldst thou arrange it for Saturday? I must return home at once.”

  “You’re going back to Gatesheath?” Charles asked. He had assumed, to the extent he had thought about it at all, that they would carry on more or less as before, with the additional requirement of showing up at the church on Saturday morning. He saw now that he was wrong.

  “I must. Only five days!” she said, clearly distracted. “What didst thou expect?”

  Charles chose not to answer that question. Instead he said, “Will I see you at all?”

  “Not before Saturday.” Seeing that he was unhappy, she turned and stroked his cheek. “I will see thee on the morning of our marriage,” she said. “And every day after that until thou returns to the sea. Now take me back to my cart.”

  CHARLES AWOKE EACH of the following mornings knowing that he would not find Penny in the bed next to him but feeling for her under the covers anyway. Mostly he kept himself busy with trips into Chester (where Ellie told him he had to buy a new suit of clothes for the ceremony; his naval uniform would not do) and other errands. The temptation to stop by the Brown house on his way home each time was almost overwhelming. On Friday, the day before his wedding, Charles awoke feeling listless, ill-tempered, and anxious. He knew he had no more preparations to make, no errands to run, nothing at all to do. He argued with Attwater about his breakfast and snapped at two of his crewmen for capering loudly in the hallway. By midmorning he wanted someone to talk to; anyone would do. Stephen and Ellie Winchester were not at home and the maid who answered the door either didn’t know or wouldn’t say where they’d gone. Bevan he found beyond the stables amid a clamor of hammers and saws and stacks of lumber. He was apparently supervising a number of the midshipmen and about half of the crew in erecting a long wooden shelter.

  “What’s this?” Charles asked.

  “It’s quarters for the crew, Charlie,” Bevan said, turning toward him. “We thought it might be a good idea to get the men out of the house before Miss Brown comes. Frankly, you don’t need the competition.”

  Charles tried to think. “Whose idea was this?”

  “Winchester’s and mine, if I recall,” Bevan said doubtfully, “or possibly Mrs. Winchester suggested it.”

  “Where’d the lumber come from?” Charles asked.

  “You’re just a barrel full of questions, aren’t you?” Bevan said. “But if you must know, Winchester had it delivered yesterday. It was supposed to be the day before, in which case this would all have been a surprise, but they were late. So, tomorrow, look surprised.”

  “All right, I’ll look surprised,” Charles said. “Where are the Winchesters?”

  “Can’t say,” Bevan answered.

  “Can’t say, or don’t know?”

  “Can’t say.”

  “Are they planning any other surprises?”

  “Can’t say.” Bevan looked at him and grinned. “I’m awfully busy just now, Charlie. Molly’s in the stables, why don’t you talk to her?”

  “Is Molly involved in this?” Charles said, aghast.

  “Can’t…well, yes.”

  Charles was no longer listless or anxious. He was now alarmed. He started toward the stables and noticed smaller groups of seamen busily cleaning out underbrush, raking the lawns and drive, repairing fences, and generally tidying the place up, and wondered who had thought of that. He found Molly Bridges, with her back turned to him, in the stables, currying Pendle. He noticed a half-dozen black horses he didn’t recognize in adjoining stalls. Of his chestnut mares for the carriage, and the carriage itself, for that matter, he saw nothing.

  “Hello, Molly,” Charles said. “What’s going on?”

  The girl turned with a jerk. “Oh, shit!” she said, then covered her mouth with her hands. “I’m sorry, Admiral,” she said quickly. “Old habits.”

  With all his time with Penny and other things, Charles had hardly seen Molly since he’d returned to Tattenall. He was pleased that she looked healthier, more rosy-cheeked, much more modestly dressed, and perhaps a little more sedate.

  “Where are my mares and my carriage?” Charles asked, feeling a little bewildered. “I’ll need them tomorrow.”

  Molly bit her lip. “I ain’t supposed to say, sir, but they’re at your brother’s stable. It’s all arranged.”

  “What’s all arranged?”

  “I ain’t supposed to say.”

  “How am I to pick up Penny?” Charles asked with alarm.

  “It’s all arranged,” Molly said desperately. “You’re to ride on Pendle here. I’m to make him beautiful for you.”

  “What about Penny?”

  “I ain’t supposed to say,” she said. “It ain’t my part.”

  “All right,” Charles said, sensing that events were out of his control. There was only one nagging question. “There isn’t any playacting with wives and sweethearts, is there?”

  “Oh, no, sir.” She beamed. “We couldn’t do that twice; she’d catch on for sure.”

  Charles limped directly back to his house, yelled for Attwater, and went to his room. He didn’t blink an eye when he saw that there was now a carpet on the floor, curtains in the windows, a small table with two chairs, and a large armoire.
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  “Yes, sir?” Attwater said, poking his head in the door.

  “Bring me something to eat and a good book.”

  “A good book, sir?”

  “Any book, damn it.”

  CHARLES WAS ALREADY awake when Attwater knocked at his door the next morning. His steward entered with a candle in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “It’s your wedding day, sir,” Attwater said, as if he was afraid Charles might have forgotten.

  “Thank you,” Charles said. He sat up, took the mug, and sipped.

  “There’s a tub for you in the kitchen,” Attwater said. “Hot water to bathe in. If you’ll follow me.”

  Charles sipped some more of his coffee, then climbed out of the bed. He found his slippers and cane and hobbled down the hallway after his servant. The kitchen was brightly lit and in the middle of it stood a large half-barrel full of steaming water. Mrs. Attwater and her two daughters were just lifting a heavy cast-iron pot onto the stove to heat some more.

  “If I may have your nightshirt, sir,” Attwater said.

  Charles glanced at the three women, all watching him speculatively. “Tell them to turn around,” he said. The water was hot enough to be uncomfortable, relaxing, and stimulating all at the same time. He scrubbed himself with soap and a stiff brush, then leaned back as Attwater shaved him. “There, sir. You look fit to be a groom.”

  Attwater took Charles’s new suit of clothing from the armoire and laid it out on the bed along with a clean shirt and other items of his dress. At seven-thirty, Bevan, Winchester, and his brother John, all smartly attired in civilian clothing, arrived to find Charles finishing his breakfast in the dining room. “Time to go, Charlie,” Bevan announced. “We’re here to see that you don’t run off on the way to church.”

  “And Penny?” Charles asked.

  “She’ll be there,” Bevan said. “Unless she comes to her senses.”

  Attwater brought Charles his coat and helped him into it. “Good luck, sir,” he said gravely. “The matrimonial state can be a wonderful thing.”

  “Thank you,” Charles said. The four men went outside where Pendle and three other horses stood saddled and waiting. They mounted and started briskly off. Charles noticed Winchester frequently checking his watch.

  After the short ride into the village and up to the church, he was surprised to see two of his crew, uniformed in new blue jackets, white breeches, and black lacquered straw hats with the word LOUISA embroidered on the bands. The sailors stepped smartly forward, saluted, and held the horses’ bridles while the party dismounted.

  “We wait,” said Bevan. Winchester checked his watch. John looked idly around. Charles wondered what was next.

  Around the corner six matched black horses appeared, their iron shoes clattering loudly on the hard-packed street. They were formed in a column of twos ridden by sailors in uniforms matching those of the men who had held their horses. Two carriages, decked in pine boughs and ivy garlands, followed behind, driven by similarly liveried sailors. Charles saw that the first contained Penny and her parents, the second Ellie, Molly, and Peter.

  He watched in near amazement as the sailors on horseback dismounted in unison and smartly formed a corridor from the leading carriage for Penny to pass through. All else faded from his view as Penny was handed down onto the street. She looked stunningly fresh and beautiful, he thought, as she gave the sailor helping her a dazzling smile. He noticed that she wore a pale gray satin dress under her cloak and small curls protruded just so from the edges of her bonnet. Her eyes glistened over cheeks tinted pink from the cold.

  “Charlie,” she called as she hurried forward. Slipping her arm in his, she beamed at him and said, “Didst thou arrange all this?”

  “Not me,” Charles answered with a grin. “You’ll have to find someone else to blame.” Two sailors opened the church doors wide and Charles and Penny passed inside.

  The ceremony turned out to be not as simple and brief as Charles had anticipated. Evidently having resolved to make the best of the unfortunate situation he found himself in, the Reverend Weddlestone spoke at length, almost waxing poetical, about the sanctity, beauty, and importance of marriage, and all the fruits thereof (sex excepted). He next launched into several prolonged quotations from the Book of Common Prayer before getting down to the actual business at hand. Charles heard, or at least attended to, almost none of it. He was aware only of the rigid gaze and labored breathing of the woman standing beside him, and was almost startled when Weddlestone held forward a Bible and intoned, “Do you, Commander Charles Algernon Edgemont, Esquire, take this woman, Miss Penelope Hanna Brown, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and honor, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” Charles said, laying his hand on the book.

  “Do you, Penelope Hannah Brown—”

  Penny laid her hand over Charles’s. “Yes,” she said.

  Weddlestone continued as if uninterrupted: “—promise to take Commander Charles Algernon Edgemont as your lawfully wedded husband—”

  “Yes,” Penny repeated insistently.

  The reverend doggedly, and Charles thought rather foolishly, persevered. “—to love, honor, and obey in all things, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

  Penny looked sharply up at Weddlestone.

  Charles sighed in resignation.

  “Thou didst not require obedience of my husband,” Penny said acidly.

  Weddlestone’s eyebrows arched, his lips pursed in anticipation of a response.

  Charles turned immediately to Penny. “I promise to be your humble and obedient servant,” he said under his breath. “Please just answer so we can be done with it.”

  “All right,” Penny managed toward Weddlestone between clenched teeth.

  “Say, ‘I do,’” insisted Weddlestone.

  “All right, I do.”

  “Then by the power vested in me by the Holy See of England and the One True Church in Cheshire, I pronounce you man and wife.”

  Charles turned her forcibly away from the minister before she could reply and pulled her toward him. “Mrs. Edgemont,” he said, taking her in his arms. At that moment, for several reasons, it seemed astonishing to him that this woman had agreed to join her life to his.

  Penny hesitated for a moment, then, to his great relief, her eyes met his. “Good morning to thee, my love,” she whispered back and they kissed.

  Outside Charles saw that a sizable crowd had gathered to see what all the sailors and carriages were about. A midshipman shouted, “Three cheers for the happy couple!” and the whole street joined in the huzzas.

  Some enthusiastic soul in the street shouted out, “Kiss the bride!” A chorus started up: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss the bride!”

  Penny looked at Charles, her face now flushed with excitement or embarrassment, and they did.

  They paraded back to their house with the mounted sailors in the fore, Charles and Penny in their carriage, followed by the second carriage, and John, Winchester, and Bevan on horseback behind. Charles watched in renewed surprise as they turned into the drive. Seamen lined the way, waving their hats and cheering as they passed. He noticed that most of the injured crewmen were among them, some standing, others in chairs, and a few being held up on stretchers. The lawn was crowded with people he guessed were his crofters or just local villagers. A steer and a boar turned on spits near the front of the house, and tables piled with food and drink were set up on the grass.

  “Oh, Charlie,” Penny said, waving back with one hand and clutching his arm tightly with the other, “it’s too much. I don’t know any of these people.” Still, her eyes were shining and there was an absurdly large smile on her face. “Oh, I see some of my friends!” she exclaimed. “There are the Howells and Joshua and Mary Worrall and their children, and the Claytons.”

  Charles climbed down from the carriage and took Penny’s hand as she followed. They walked back to the second carriage,
where Penny embraced her parents, Ellie, Molly, and even Peter. Charles was promptly kissed by Elizabeth Brown and embraced by her husband. The crowd closed around them and he kissed Penny again to robust cheers. Soon Penny was pulled away by some of her friends and Charles found himself with Daniel Bevan and Stephen Winchester. “Did you two organize all this?” he asked.

  “Not me, I was just following orders,” Bevan answered.

  “It was mostly Ellie’s idea,” Winchester said defensively.

  “Do you think she invited enough people?” Charles said.

  “I think it’s everyone Ellie’s ever met and then some,” he said, a little in awe. “She can be very enthusiastic.”

  “Come with me, both of you,” Charles said. “I want to say thank you and I want to include my sister.” The three men started through the crowd toward Ellie, where she was talking with Molly.

  “Charlie, Charlie!” she cried as soon as she saw him approaching and rushed forward. “Isn’t it wonderful! I’m so happy for you.” She exuberantly kissed his cheeks, almost jumping with pleasure. “And for Penny, too, of course. Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done,” Charles said seriously, kissing her cheeks in return, “and Stephen and Daniel too, and Molly.” He shook the two men’s hands and bussed Molly carefully on the cheek. “I don’t know how I can repay you.”

  “Oh, Charlie,” Ellie sobbed, grabbing Winchester’s arm with sudden tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s so beautiful. You’re just perfect for each other. Isn’t that right, Stevie?”

  Winchester nodded dutifully in agreement.

  “Damnation,” Bevan breathed. Charles glanced at his lieutenant and saw him staring at something in the distance. He followed Bevan’s gaze and saw a lone horseman in the uniform of a naval courier trotting up the drive. The courier stopped beside a group of sailors and bent in his saddle, as if asking directions. Charles’s heart sank as he watched a man point in his direction.