Chris noticed none of these comforts as he paced back and forth, unable to check his motion.
“Have a tot, won’t you, Gunn?” Will forced a glass into his friend’s hand as he passed. “That’s better. Maybe it will ease your nerves. Why must bridegrooms always be so jittery before the ceremony? There’s nothing to it, I assure you. A few mumbled replies, and you’ll be a married man. I promise you, it doesn’t hurt at all.”
Gunn downed the brandy, then rounded on his friend. “It’s not the ceremony that’s got me on edge. It’s something else.”
Will chuckled. “You mean what didn’t happen because I stopped it.”
“No. That’s not what I mean, but you had no damn business interfering in my plans.”
“See here, Gunn, what happens under my roof is very definitely my business. Besides, I had my orders from Mary. What do you think I was doing in the hallway at that hour in the first place? She hadn’t heard Alice’s door close and she sent me to investigate. As I told you last night, had it been up to me, I’d have given you both my blessing and gone quietly back to bed. I consider all this waiting and anticipating a lot of bunk and bother. What if the world comes to an end at eleven-thirty this morning? No wedding, no bedding! Whereas, if the important part had been taken care of last night, we wouldn’t have to worry about doomsday, would we?”
“My feelings precisely,” Gunn agreed. “But that’s not really what’s eating at me, Will. It’s spring now. You know what always happens as soon as the thaw comes. The Abenaki will be on the move, headed back to the coast. There’s always trouble this time of year.”
Phips shrugged. “What does it matter? You’re down here away from all that. Let the fort commandant worry about things for a change. You’ve done more than your share dealing with Castin and his savages. Besides, we haven’t heard the slightest rumblings from up north yet. That’s a good sign. Usually, bad news is rampant by this time of year.”
“Which only means it could come at any time. And when it does, I’ll have to go.”
“You’ll do no such thing!” Phips protested. “You’ll stay right here in Boston where you belong, with your bride. There are others who can deal with things up there. You’ve earned a spot of easy living, my friend.”
Gunn began pacing again. “You know I can’t ignore what’s going on. The baron stirs up the braves every spring. Trouble is as inevitable as the sap rising in the maple trees. If only that damn Frenchman would leave the Indians be. But we both know he’s a stubborn, arrogant man.”
Phips laughed softly. “You might be describing yourself, my friend.”
“Maybe that’s why we get on as well as we do; we’re so much alike. Be that as it may, when I have to go, I don’t think I will take Alice with me. It’s far too dangerous during the summer months. I’d like her to stay here with you and Mary.”
“It seems to me your bride will have some say in that decision.”
At precisely eleven fifty-eight Sir William Phips appeared at Alice’s door to escort her downstairs. Already she could hear the sweet strains of a violin playing in the parlor below. The time had finally arrived. A moment’s panic churned through her before she placed her hand on Will’s arm, but it passed quickly. She smiled up at him and nodded.
“I’m ready,” she said firmly.
“Thank God,” he answered, weary and a bit tipsy from having shouldered the responsibility of keeping her groom in his skin all morning.
Alice felt as if she were floating down the stairway. The cream satin skirt of her gown rustled like a spring breeze about her, and the sweet scent of the lilies in her bridal bouquet enveloped her. She was living in her own rarefied world—a universe of love and joy and wonder. Then she spied Chris, gazing up at her with a look of such tenderness and awe in his green eyes that all other thoughts fled. When had he ever been so handsome or so dear to her? She could hardly wait to stand beside him.
All the guests hushed as Will placed Alice’s hand in Christopher’s. At that moment Alice felt that they were truly wed—flesh of one flesh, heart of one heart, two souls reborn as one through love. The standard replies, the vows, and the agreements were only the necessary requirements of the state to acknowledge the bond.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Chris immediately lifted her veil, too anxious to wait for Mary’s assistance. When her husband’s lips met hers for their first kiss as man and wife, Alice feared she might swoon in his arms. All the waiting, the worrying were behind them now. At long last Alice was Mrs. Christopher Gunn.
“Thank God, it’s done!” Chris whispered close to his bride’s ear.
Alice hugged him soundly, then turned a smile on their guests. The whole throng crowding the parlor rushed forward to congratulate the couple. The ladies kissed Alice’s cheeks while the men slapped Chris on the back and wrung his hand.
Never in all her life had Alice spent a happier day. The bright spring sun shone down, filling the Phips home with added warmth. But Alice needed no sun to cheer her. Her heart was fairly bursting with gladness, and Chris was at her side all day—touching her hand, returning her smiles, stealing a kiss whenever he could.
By late afternoon both bride and groom were tired and eager to be away from the others, alone at last.
“I think we can leave now,” Chris whispered, his tone urgent.
Alice shook her head. “Not yet, darling. Will said he would signal with a toast when it was time for us to slip upstairs.”
“Well, dammit, why doesn’t he get on with it?”
“Patience, my love.” Alice reached under the table and patted his thigh.
He turned a smoldering gaze on her. “I can’t be patient when you keep touching me that way.”
The chatter in the dining room continued, growing louder as the men slipped past their wives to visit the shed out back, then returned time after time with sweetened punch. Mary Phips presided over her servants, indicating with a wave of her hand or the barest nod when dishes were to be cleared and the next course brought to the table. Sir William, meanwhile, acted the perfect host, keeping his guests entertained with tall tales of his adventures in the southern seas.
Only one guest remained somber and silent throughout the day. Captain Jonathan Hargrave looked glum during the ceremony and for all the hours that followed. He took to the shed as often as any other gentleman present, but Will Phips’s rum, brought all the way back from the Indies, did little to raise his spirits. He’d waited all these months, expecting this wedding would never take place. He’d come for the ceremony, more than ready to pick up the pieces when Gunn ran out on his bride. But it hadn’t happened. Now all he could do was wallow in his own misery and disappointment until he could find a ship headed back to England that needed a captain. He certainly couldn’t stay in Boston now that Alice had actually married another man, especially not that bastard Gunn.
As dusk gathered outside the windows and long shadows crept into the room, Sir William rose to his feet a bit unsteadily and signaled for attention by tapping his glass with a silver spoon.
“My friends,” he began.
Chris gripped Alice’s hand and brought it to his lips. “Finally,” he murmured over her fingers.
“Shhh,” Alice cautioned. “Let’s not interrupt him, it will take all the longer.”
Chris smiled at the anxious tone in her voice. How wonderful it would be to finally get her upstairs, all to himself!
However, Gunn’s smile faded as Will’s voice droned on and on in extravagant, flowery praise of the newly wedded couple, then in lavish good wishes for their continued happiness and for the union’s fruitfulness. He went on to bring the king into his toast, the Mother Country, and finally the colonies. Many yawns stretched wide around the table before it seemed that he was finally bringing his toast to a close.
“And in conclusion…” Will said at last, but he never got to finish. The sound of horses’ hooves in the street outside drew everyone’s attention. A moment later someone was pounding at the front door as if he meant to batter it down.
When one of the servants opened the door, a bedraggled, muddy, travel-weary courier burst in upon the wedding party. The tall fellow doffed his fur hat, mumbling a hasty apology to the company in general. Then he turned to Christopher Gunn.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but I need a word with you.”
Gunn recognized the man immediately. It was Oslen Wooster, one of the scouts from Fort Majabigwaduce. The black cloud that had hovered over him for the past weeks seemed to crowd into the room, darkening his mood once more.
“Out with it, Wooster,” he said. “What news do you bring?”
“Bad news, sir. The Abenaki raided the fort, and they’ve laid waste to a number of villages along the coast. The baron sent word that Portland will be next unless you meet with him immediately.”
“Dammit, man, can’t you see I’ve just got married? You can’t expect me to ride out with you now. Maybe tomorrow…”
The man looked from Gunn to his bride and a flush warmed his mud-spattered cheeks. “Congratulations, sir. My best wishes to you, Mrs. Gunn. But there ain’t a minute to lose. The Frenchman’s set a time limit. If we ride out right now, we might make that meeting. We wait till tomorrow, and there’s no telling how many more poor folks them savages will kill before they’re done.”
Silence descended on the room. All eyes turned to Christopher Gunn, awaiting his reply.
Alice’s eyes grew wide with alarm as she reached out and took her husband’s hand. “You can’t let those people die,” she said.
“The men of Maine know how to fight. They won’t let their towns be taken.”
Wooster shook his head. “These ain’t just springtime skirmishes, sir. It’s real mean, ugly fighting. Them savages ain’t even sparing the women and children. I could tell you horror stories, but seeing as there’s ladies present…” The lanky messenger dropped his gaze and fingered his hat nervously in his big hands. “The only way to stop the slaughter is a meet with the baron, and he vows that the only one he’ll talk to is you.”
Gunn was already rising from his chair before the man finished. Alice felt her heart brim with pride in her new husband. He alone could save all those people! And what a romantic honeymoon they would have—riding the trails north, bedding down under starlit skies, making love for the first time in the wilds.
“I’ll be down directly,” Gunn told Wooster. “Alice?” He took her hand. “Come with me.”
“Of course I will, my darling.” To the ends of the earth, she thought.
He took his bride, not to her bedroom, but to his. Closing the door behind them, he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her fragrant hair.
“Oh, my love, I knew something like this would happen. Why? Why? I want you so badly. I wanted everything to be perfect for you this time.”
“Darling, I don’t mind. Really,” Alice soothed. “‘Whither thou goest…’” she quoted.
He held her at arm’s length and stared hard at her face. “Oh, no! You can’t come with me, Alice. It’s far too dangerous.”
Alice’s bright dream crumbled to ashes in that instant. “But of course I’ll come with you. I’m your wife, Chris.”
“Exactly! And I don’t intend to expose you to such horrors. You heard what Wooster said, they’re killing women and children, too. And if I know Scarappi and the others as well as I think I do, killing is the least painful of what they’ll do to their female captives. No, Alice. You really must stay here.”
He turned from her and began throwing clothes into a satchel. Alice grabbed his arm.
“If I can’t go, then you can’t, either!” She was near hysterical at the thought of being left behind.
Gunn turned to her, his face hard and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll pretend I never heard that.” Then he went back to his packing.
When Alice tried again to stop him, he thrust her away from him. “If you keep this up, there won’t be time for us before I have to go. I don’t want to leave my bride unbedded. We’ve both been forced to wait too long already.”
Alice took a step back, staring at him, her mouth open. She couldn’t believe this was happening. How could he even consider marrying her at noon, then leaving her before nightfall and telling her that he meant to enjoy the comforts of his bride before he dashed off to God-knows-where? Well, she’d have something to say about that.
“No!” she said bluntly. “If you leave me here, you leave, that’s all.”
Gunn stopped his packing and turned to her, studying her face. She was serious. Her blue eyes held a hard, steady glitter. Her mouth was set in a grim line. Her arms were crossed over her breasts like a protective shield.
“I have to go,” he said gently. “I’d give anything in the world to be able to stay here with you, Alice. You know how much I love you, how much I need you. But there are times when a man has to put aside his own needs for those of others. Come here.”
His soft tone and tender words worked their usual magic on Alice. She found herself in his arms, feeling his lips move over her face. His big, gentle hands cupped her breasts, sending warm thrills through her whole trembling body. She returned his kisses, growing more anxious by the moment. She loved him more than life itself. She needed him now. She wanted to give herself to her husband. How could she send him away before they were truly man and wife?
Let time stop, she begged silently. Don’t let us lose this precious moment.
They held each other for a long time—kissing, touching, caressing. It seemed to Alice that time had, indeed, stopped. Only her longing moved on and on, ever increasing, ever renewing itself.
“Darling,” Chris whispered, “please? We haven’t much time.”
She let him lead her to his narrow bed. She helped him with the tiny pearl buttons down the front of her bodice. She lay warm and purring under his hands and mouth as he stroked and kissed her bare breasts. She burned and ached for him. Now there was no need to wait, no time to waste. She was more than ready to give herself to him totally.
“Alice, oh, my darling Alice,” he murmured over her burning flesh. “Do you have any idea how I want you?”
His words fired her more. She tugged at his vest, trying to rip his clothes off.