Page 65 of Unearthing the Smuggler's Heart
Jade Ferris had spent her entire life actively avoiding surprises. She had found solace and security in the predictable, created beauty in routine. But in the last days, she had at last learned why some love being surprised. She had, for the first time, felt the spark of pure and absolute joy at the unexpected.
Jade Dempierre would spend her life loving surprises.
She had suggested they elope that day on the beach, her dress still heavy with saltwater. They could go anywhere and just have it done.
Mathias had laughed, genuinely shocked that his orderly little fiancée would want to do something so spontaneous, and perhaps even more surprising, his instinct for chaos was not present when it came to thoughts about their wedding. He wanted an event. He wanted toplan.
She had somehow fallen even deeper in love with the man in that moment. She would have to do nothing, he insisted. He would plan the entire affair. And Jade thought,may the world never cease surprising me.
So far, it hadn't.
When theHarpyhad returned, some two months after its initial departure under Isabelle Applegate's command, she had been awed. When a second ship had docked at its side, she had felt puzzled. And when many, many familiar faces had flooded out onto the pier, she had been moved to tears. It had been an overwhelming cascade of beautiful moments, culminating in the founding members of the Silver Leaf Society and their progeny—both in blood and in spirit—together in one place, gathered for a thing of joy.
Therese Dempierre, Mathias's mother, had seemed to come apart at the seams, uncertain which person to drown in affection first and for longest. It was she who had gone the longest without seeing the others, and it was she whose son was finally, at long last, finding his way in a world that does, on occasion, demand choices. Commitment.
Zelda Smith had attempted to be the most reserved. Jade had always known her as a reserved woman; a lady of pure, shining steel, free of even the smallest dent. Her partner in life, Harriet Goode, had always been the soft one, but here in Spain, Harriet had stood aside and allowed Zelda to be folded into the loving embrace of those she had known since girlhood, and in that embrace, she had changed.
"I've never seen her like this," Jade had said to Harriet, softly enough so that they would not be overheard. "Look how she smiles."
"Oh, I have," Harriet assured her, patting her hand. "You will see all sorts of sides of a person when you live beside them for years and years. That is something to look forward to, as a bride."
Gigi and Kit had come, with dimpled baby Maggie holding their hands. They had walked along the shore with Jade, remembering the girl they had once met, trapped in a decaying home with very little hope for the future, and had rejoiced at the vivacious woman who had emerged from such a difficult place in the world.
Isabelle and Peter were here, with their baby gradually making himself known in his mother's stomach. Their love and pride for Mathias, their happiness for the change that had found him, glowed. They had decided to stay until the baby was born.
Nell and Nathaniel had one twin girl each, and all the encouragement and reassurance one might imagine possible on the eve of the changing of their lives. One they had named Alice, for the name that was given to Isabelle at birth, and the other they called Mary, for Nathaniel and Isabelle's mother, the Silver Leaf founder who had died in her fight for what she believed in.
When the sun had risen on the morning of the wedding, Jade had awakened with a heart so full that she thought she could have illuminated the sky all on her own, should the sun not appear as it was intended to.
This day, this perfectly planned day, had been her husband's doing.
She wore the coral beads around her throat and kept the lucky tuppence in her shoe. She wore a blue dress embroidered with songbirds and she sparkled in the sunshine, the golden threads of her wedding dress catching the light as she said her vows and wrapped her husband in her arms for the kiss that sealed their future.
For now, they would live aboard theHarpy, which Jade had so aptly called a home, some months ago. The Silver Leaf may not be a wartime enterprise anymore, but Mathias had convinced them well enough that there were still trades to be made, people to be helped, and loss from two decades of war that might take some time to clean up.
The future might go any number of ways, but for now, at least they knew they’d be spending it together, whatever may come.
Later, when the feast was served and the music playing, Mathias pulled Jade into the privacy of a small alcove and gave her a gift, a little box wrapped in silver paper that glinted the reflection of the candlelight back onto their hands when Jade accepted it from him.
Inside was a little clock, made of silver and quartz, with four feet on the bottom so that it might rest on the bedside table where they would sleep as husband and wife.
"It's beautiful,” she had said, dazzled by its sheen and by the perfection of the man across from her.
"Read the inscription," he told her, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.
She tilted the clock toward the light, where its gently ticking second hand pointed at the words etched into the rim:Audentes fortuna iuvat.
"You've spent enough of your life being patient," he explained, watching her run her fingertips over the inscription. "From this point on, you no longer have to wait for happiness. Seize it. With me."
"What does it mean?" she asked, blinking up at him with tears that were already gathering, as though in her heart, she already knew.
"It means I love you," he told her, capturing one more kiss from her lips.
She giggled, kissing him back, holding the clock behind his neck so that she might grip him closer. "I know that. What does itsay?"
"It says that you no longer need patience," he told her with a grin. "And it says that I no longer need chaos. We only need each other, my love, and the courage to remember that. It's just a reminder, should we ever need it, at any time of the day.
“It says, Mrs. Dempierre, that fortune favors the brave."
