Having returned with Peter to the American encampment during a lull between the two armies on the heights at Stillwater, Anne readies for her hastily arranged wedding.
I have to admit that I am totally impressed with the author’s research into the time period her books are written in, everything was just perfect. With more twists and turns, the author finishes off the trilogy with an unexpected ending. — My Cozy Corner Book Reviews
Lavinia pursed her lips as if to consider a quick and simple solution. “There’s no time. Here….” She rifled through her trunk, and emerged waving a white linen cap with a ribbon embroidered with forget-me-nots around the edges. “The blue is not a perfect match, but it will do.” As she arranged the cap on Anne’s head, the clamor from without rose in pitch and fervor.
“They’re calling for the bride.” Martha’s smile brought a glow to her plain face. “And he’s brought horses!”
“Horses?” Lavinia spread Anne’s hair over her shoulders and back.
Anne hardly made sense of the two women’s exchange. Her heart raced in anticipation of a long awaited moment, as Martha threw open the door.
The knot of men standing in the clearing around the campfire all turned and the silence buzzed in her ears. Flanked by Lavinia and Martha, Anne stepped out of the tent. But she saw nothing, heard nothing. Nothing existed except Peter. Standing with the chaplain, he looked up at her, his neatly queued hair sparkling like spun gold in the glow of the setting sun, his eyes as clear and blue as the autumn sky. How handsome he was in his blue coat and buff breeches. How her heart strained at the sight of him—his eyes, his mouth, his hand extended toward her. His smile touched her heart with its warmth, with the awe and wonder that transformed his features, as if he beheld her for the first time. Could it be possible, she wondered, that his joy could eclipse hers?
For eight years—from the time she was sixteen—Anne dreamed of this moment. How odd that she’d be married to Peter in an army encampment with the open sky as their chapel, the sounds of guns and drums in the distance, and the sulfurous smell of black powder smoke drifting over the fields.
Friday FreeBits is a regular feature on Ginger Simpson’s blog. To read more excerpts from some great authors, click here: http://mizging.blogspot.com