Page 126 of Pretending to be a Debutante
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“Yes,” Priscilla answered. “Oh, yes.”
He released her hand just long enough to reach into his pocket again. And what he lifted out was a familiar stone—the black sapphire—but set in a gleaming gold ring.
She tilted her head. “From the pendant?”
“Part of the reason I took so long to come today. I had to wait for it to be reset this morning.” He removed her glove and then slid it onto her finger.
Priscilla could never have expected to be this happy again. Staring down at her hand, she blinked away happy tears.
And then Emerson was on his feet again, and when he gathered her into his arms to kiss her, Fiddlesticks jumped up and down, barking his approval.
—The End—
