Besides, she did not want to think she would have to wait until another lifetime to see him again.
“And you, sir.” The madam took Mr. Beckman’s cup and studied it intently. “The leaves form the shape of what would be the wings of a bird, except the wings have been broken.” She frowned. “There is another set of wings in the bottom of the cup, however. Eventually you shall be free.”
And then, with a slow closing of her eyes, Madam Nadya leaned back in her chair and released a long, theatrical breath. Her voice dropped into a hushed cadence, each word heavy with portent.
“I see before you shadows and storms… great trials that will test the very marrow of your souls. Yet beyond them, if you remain true—loyal to the call of your hearts—there lies great happiness. Seize it. Embrace not tomorrow, but the here… the now.”
Dash rose from the bench, laying some money on the table. “Many thanks, Madam Nadya.” He did not sound as though he’d heard anything earth shattering. He sounded, rather, as though he’d just purchased a sack of flour.
“Thank you, Madam.” Ambrosia smiled at the woman, wishing the answer to her question had been a different one.
As they moved to exit the tent, though, the woman reached out and clasped her by the wrist. “Have faith. You are strong. Have courage, my dear, but ultimately, you must trust your heart.” She then just as abruptly released her.
Ambrosia blinked several times as they stepped back out into the light, her eyes watering from the strength of the setting sunlight.
Dash took hold of her arm. “There is a booth selling meat pies a little way down. Shall we grab something to eat?”
Ambrosia looked at him askance at first. How could he eat at a time like this? But then…
Embrace the here and now.
His smile was warm and the light in his eyes, tender.
“Yes, let’s!” she responded. She would not mourn their certain parting in the near future while they still had time together. “I’m starving,” she added.
He did not offer her his arm but took her hand in his, threading their fingers together, and as though they truly were a couple, he led the way.
They ate meat pastries and drank ale, and as the village was a small one, were wished happiness in their new marriage by several of the merrymakers around them.
“You are enjoying yourselves?” Mr. Wooten joined them at one of the tables that had been set out. “Mr. Keller! Mrs. Keller! These are the guests that I told you about. They are just married and traveling to London.” By this time a good deal of ale had been consumed by most everyone and the atmosphere had become somewhat raucous.
The Kellers were a younger couple. They carried tankards of ale in each of their hands and sat down across from where Ambrosia and Mr. Beckman sat. “We, too, are recently wed,” Mr. Keller announced and then proceeded to gaze lovingly into his wife’s eyes before pressing a kiss to her lips.
The affection between the two of them was a palpable thing and it made Ambrosia wish... She shook her head. She was a widow. She’d been married not quite a decade. Who was she to wish for something so frivolous?
The couple lingered over their kiss, the man’s arm pulling his wife close. Ambrosia had never seen such a bold display as that in all her time in Rockford Beach.
The emotions between the couple did not appear frivolous in this moment. They were powerful, passionate. The two were obviously very much in love.
When they drew away from one another, the young Mr. Keller winked and grinned toward Dash and then, lifting a spoon, began tapping it against his tankard of ale.
And then his wife began doing the same.
And then several others around them.
“It means you must kiss her!” Mrs. Keller shouted from across the table. “It is a village tradition for all the newlyweds.”
Ambrosia and Dash were sitting on the same bench beside one another but had not been touching until now, as he dropped one arm around her shoulders.
They had told the Wootens that they were married. They’d told everyone, in fact, and it had been Ambrosia who had declared that they were, in fact, newly married.
She had really gotten them into trouble with that little embellishment, hadn’t she?
She turned to stare up at Dash in concern, but he didn’t seem overly troubled by their present predicament. In fact, his gaze had dropped from her eyes down to her mouth. She watched his lips as he licked them.
“Well then, Madame Beckman. It’s tradition, after all.”
THE HERE AND NOW
