She smiled wistfully as Keen turned and gazed up the aisle, a brave, distinguished figure in the cool winter light reflecting against these old stone walls. Theirs was a role reversed, surely? Zenoria had been his mermaid, and he had plucked her from the sea to make her his own.
She saw Tojohns, Keen's coxswain, proudly dressed in his best jacket and breeches, wave a signal from the door. It was almost time. Beyond him she had seen Allday's familiar figure. Did he feel a little neglected, she wondered? Or was he, like herself, trying not to think of that other marriage that could never be? She touchedher finger where Somervell's ring had been. They must not waste a day or an hour, whenever they were together. All those years which had been denied them could never be lived again.
There was a sound of distant cheering, and someone ringing a cow bell. Then carriage wheels on the rough track, and she felt a burning pride as the cheers grew louder, not for the bride this time but for her man. The hero whom even a stranger could recognise and make his own.
She wished they could be alone afterwards, escape back to Falmouth after the wedding, but it was impossible. Forty miles on these roads in the darkness was a sure way of ending everything.
Catherine turned and watched their shadows in the bright sunlight of the ancient doorway, and put her hand to her breast.
"What a lovely creature she is, Adam." She turned to speak further and then made herself face the aisle, as Bolitho with Zenoria on his arm moved slowly into the body of the church.
It was no imagination. Perhaps another woman might have been mistaken; and Catherine found herself wishing it were so.
But she had seen the look on Adam's face before, on Bolitho's in those difficult, reckless days. Adam was in love all right, with the girl who was about to marry Valentine Keen.
Richard Bolitho looked down at the girl and said, "A promise kept. I said I would give you away. It is a coming-together of so many hopes! "
What had she been thinking on the endless journey by coach, and now along the aisle's weathered stones where so many generations had trod? There seemed only happiness.
He saw familiar faces and smiles, his sister Nancy already dabbing at her eyes as he had known she would. Ferguson and his wife Grace, people from the estate side by side with officers high and low. Even the port admiral from Plymouth had made an appearance, and was sharing a pew with Midshipman Segrave-a suddenly older and more confident young man who would be standing for lieutenant when he returned to the ship.
He smiled at Allday and knew he would have liked to be in charge today as was Keen's own coxswain, organising a carriage decked with ribbons, to be drawn on boat ropes by some of Keen's midshipmen and petty officers to carry them to the squire's house.
He saw a dark shadow slip along the wall and enter the pew shared by Adam and Catherine; he sat among other shadows with his face half averted and the collar of his boat-cloak turned up. He did not need to be told it was Tyacke, paying his respects in his own special way no matter what the cost to himself. A true friend, he thought with sudden affection and admiration.
He touched his injured eye and tried to ignore it. It was pricking painfully in the smoke of the many candles which lined the church.
There were many others in the shadows today who would remain equally silent. Friends he would never see again; would never be able to share with Catherine.
Francis Inch, John Neale, Charles Keverne, Farquhar, Veitch, and now poor Browne… with an "e." And so many more.
He thought too of Herrick, who would be at his own home recovering from a flesh wound, but with a far harder disablement to endure forever.
He gave his place to Keen as the clergyman, whom he did not know, opened his book and beamed nervously at the unusually illustrious congregation.
Bolitho stood beside Catherine and they clasped hands as the familiar words were spoken and repeated, and the ring was offered and received to seal their vows to one another.
Then the ancient bells were chiming overhead and people were leaning out of the pews to call their best wishes to the bridal couple.
Bolitho said, "Wait a while, Kate." He saw that Adam had already gone, and of Tyacke there was no sign, although almost lost in the joyful clamour of the bells he heard the beat of hooves as he galloped away; like the devil's highwayman, he thought.
"Young Matthew will bring the carriage for us after the others have left."
He looked past her at the empty church, a child's glove fallen between some stacked Bibles.
"What is it?" She watched him, waiting, believing he had seen and recognised Adam's despair.
He said quietly, "This is for you." He raised her hand and held the ring above it, a glistening band of diamonds and rubies. "In the eyes of God we are married, dearest Kate. It is right that it should be here."
Allday watched from the porchway. Like young lovers.
He grinned. And why not? A sailor and his woman. There was no stronger bond.
And he shared their joy: and somehow, it dispelled his own envy.