Page 46 of The Pirate and the Pagan
“What would you like to see? There’s a boring collection of arms and armor in the great hall or there’s some fascinating plasterwork in the long gallery. In fact, I think there’s a likeness of us depicted there,” he said gravely.
“I think that highly unlikely—show me.”
They strolled through the long room, which vividly depicted Bible stories from the Old Testament. “There you are!” His face was a perfect mask of gravity as he pointed to Eve in the Garden of Eden, “Just like you this afternoon … naked, holding a round thing in your hand.”
She gasped, “That’s an apple,” and spun about quickly to see if anyone had overheard the outrageous remark. No one was within earshot, so she turned back to the fresco, pointed to a naked Adam, and said, “And there’s you.”
“No, it isn’t. That fig leaf is far too small to cover my parts.”
“Since such a beautiful woman consented to marry you, I’ve noticed an increase in the size of your head, too!” She laughed up at him.
He immediately kissed her.
“You mustn’t kiss me in such a public place,” she said, blushing.
“If you want me to kiss you in a more private place, you’ll have to wait until we’re in bed,” he teased.
She sobered and said softly, “Will you take me to the private chapel?”
The chapel was small, but very beautiful. It even had a shrine dedicated to Sir John Grenvile, who had sailed to the Indies with Sir Francis Drake. Ruark watched his wife’s delicate profile as she knelt to pray. Suddenly her shoulders drooped and he wondered what in the world was making her so sad.
Summer was praying in earnest. “O Holy St. Jude, Apostle and Martyr, great in Virtue and Rich in Miracles, near kinsman of Jesus Christ, Faithful intercessor of all who invoke your special patronage in time of need, to you I have recourse from the depths of my heart and humbly beg you to help my brother Spencer. Please make Ruark love me enough to take care of the mortgage on Roseland and free my brother from prison.”
“Darling,” Ruark murmured.
Summer opened her eyes and arose from her knees, searching his darkly handsome features.
“Let’s exchange our wedding vows again here while we’re private.”
Her eyes widened. “What a lovely thought. You are so romantic.”
They faced each other and held hands.
“I Ruark take thee Summer to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.”
Her throat had a lump in it at the deep sincerity of his words. Then huskily she said the vow back to Ruark, adding of course, “to love, cherish, and to obey.” Then Ruark fingered the bloodred ruby he had placed on her finger last night and repeated, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee honor, and with all my worldly goods, I thee endow.” She offered silent thanks to St. Jude, for already he seemed to be answering her prayer.
Ruark slipped a possessive arm about her and they emerged from the chapel to join the vast company for dinner. The great dining hall was ablaze with candlight. It reflected from the crystal goblets of water and wine and from the heavy silver service which would serve one hundred in the same identical pattern. Each place setting boasted a display of ten knives, forks, and spoons in the heavily ornamented Sterling which was crested with an ornate G for Grenvile.
Panic arose in Summer as she viewed the formal tables, wondering how on earth she would get through the meal without exposing her ignorance. She realized with dismay that Ruark had been literally telling the truth when he said there were two footmen to stand behind each guest’s chair to serve, any one of whom knew more about dining etiquette than she would ever know.
Ruark chose to sit next to the Arundells from Pendennis Castle and Summer listened attentively to their conversation. What she heard banished the worry over which fork to use, for here was Ruark making plans with John Arundell to entertain the King and whoever else wished to accompany him.
“I know Charles will want to pay a nostalgic visit to Pendennis Castle, so I propose to open Helford Hall for the court’s entertainment. It wouldn’t be for more than a couple of days because they must be in Portsmouth next week for the arrival of Queen Henrietta Maria and Minette,” Ruark said to John.
Arundell’s wife gave Ruark a most grateful smile. “How very generous of you, Helford. I must admit I’m at a loss when it comes to entertaining these fashionable town people.” She bent confidentially toward Summer and said, “Their sleeping arrangements resemble nothing short of musical beds, so gossip will have it.”
Ruark saw the look of dismay etched on his wife’s lovely features and took her hand beneath the cover of the damask cloth. “Stop worrying, my sweet. We shall supply the wine and card tables and they will entertain themselves, and I doubt if all of them will come.”
Somehow she wasn’t in the least reassured.
Ruark said, “John’s father, Colonel Arundell, held Pendennis Castle for five months in a siege by the Parliamentarians. In the end it was hunger not force that beat Pendennis and the emaciated garrison marched out with the full honors of war.”
John Arundell gave them a deprecating smile. “I think every last one of us had heroic fathers … all the King’s brave men,” he said, shaking his head.
The dinner served was sumptuous. Some dishes were totally foreign to Summer and she took only a tiny amount in case they proved unpalatable; however, there were so many courses served, she was soon shaking her head when the footman pressed her to take more.
Muscians strolled about with violas and lutes, much as they must have done in medieval times, although now of course there was no throwing the bones to the dogs; the long-nosed footmen saw that everything was kept immaculate.
