Page 125 of Simply Perfect

“Papa,” she said. “And Mama.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He bent to kiss her cheek.

And then, to the noisy delight of the spectators and the few guests who had already spilled out of the Abbey behind them, he leaned across her and kissed Claudia on the lips.

“Bothmy sweethearts,” he said.

Claudia’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“I amnotgoing to be a watering pot now of all times,” she said in her schoolmistress voice. “Take us to the carriage, Joseph.”

Lizzie nestled her head against her shoulder.

“This instant,” Claudia said in a tone that must have had fifteen years’ worth of pupils jumping to attention.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, grinning. “No. Make that,yes, my lady.”

They were all laughing as he hurried them across the yard, past crowds of well-wishers, and finally through the stone arches and a tunnel of assorted cousins and Bedwyns, all of whom had sneaked out early and armed themselves with flower petals.

By the time they reached the street and the carriage, Claudia had an excuse for the tears that trickled down her cheeks. They were tears of laughter, she would have said if he had asked.

He did not.

He set Lizzie on one seat, took his place beside Claudia on the other, set one arm about her shoulders, and kissed her thoroughly.

“What are you doing, Papa?” Lizzie asked.

“I am kissing your mama,” he told her. “She is also my bride, remember.”

“Oh, good,” she said, and laughed.

So did Claudia. “Everyone willsee,” she said.

“Do you mind?” He leaned back from her to note again how vibrantly beautiful she looked.

“Not at all,” she said, lifting her hand to his shoulder and drawing him back toward her as the carriage moved forward on its way to the Upper Rooms. “This is the happiest day of my life and I do not care if the whole world knows it.”

And she leaned forward, took Lizzie’s hand in hers and squeezed it, and then kissed him.

He spread his hand over her abdomen, which surely was slightly rounded already. All his family was here. His present and his future. His happiness.

Love. I dream of love, of a family—wife and children—which is as close and as dear to me as the beating of my own heart.

Had he spoken those words once upon a time?

If he had not, he certainly ought to have.

Except that he no longer had to dream that particular dream.

It had just become reality.