Page 112 of Hell In A Hand Basket
Now, as the music played, Sophia proceeded confidently down the aisle alone, a free woman, willing to give herself to only one man. The man she loved.
At first he’d been her hero, and then her lover. He was soon to be her husband.
He awaited her at the altar, most solemnly –– her Dev. His attire was simple, yet elegant. He’d finally hired himself a valet, and the man had done himself proud.
When she arrived, Dev took her hand, raised it to his lips, and then turned them so they both faced the vicar.
Dev’s cousin, Mr. White had been more than happy to perform the ceremony for them. And this time, as the age-old vows were recited, Sophia concentrated intently upon them. She repeated the words earnestly to her equally sincere groom.
And in the end, when the vicar pronounced them husband and wife, Dev tilted her head back and placed a chaste-but-loving kiss upon her lips. It held the promise of a lifetime of love.
Peaches took that moment to escape from Gilly and rush to the altar with a series of celebratory barks. At first, a few gasps broke the silence, but when Mr. White bent down, picked the dog up, and got a wet kiss on his face for his troubles, laughter erupted.
For there was a time to mourn and a time to dance. There was a time to weep and a time to laugh. And of course, there was finally a time to love.
At last, it was time.
***
