“In three days," he continued, "I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?""You'll save me from marauding minotaurs?”

“Until you've lived through all that," he said, "don't you ever complain about what we have. Because to me... to me..." He choked on the words, but he barely paused before he continued. "This - us - is heaven. I can't bear to hear you say otherwise.”

“Something without the cello,” she muttered.“If I have to do it, you have to do it,” Sarah said with a smirk.Iris glared at her with all the fury of a misunderstood artist. “Youdon’t understand.”“Oh, believe me, I do,” Sarah said with great feeling. “I playedlast year, if you recall. I’ve had an entire year to understand.”

“I do love it when I am right,” Hyacinth said triumphantly.“Which is fortunate, since I so often am.”Penelope just looked at her. “You do know that you areinsufferable.”“Of course.” Hyacinth leaned toward Penelope with adevilish smile. “But you love me, anyway, admit it.”“I admit nothing until the end of the evening.”“After we have both gone deaf?”“After we see if you behave yourself.”Hyacinth laughed. “You married into the family. Youhave to love me. It’s a contractual obligation.”“Funny how I don’t recall that in the wedding vows.”“Funny,” Hyacinth returned, “I remember it perfectly”

“I--" She swallowed, perhaps summoning her courage, then continued, "I would not lie to you and say that I did not want this.""Me," he cut in peevishly. "You wanted me."She closed her eyes. “Yes,” she finally said, “I wanted you.”Part of him wanted to interrupt again, to remind her that she still wanted him, that it wasn’t and would never be in the past.“But I can’t have you,” she said quietly, “and because of that, you can’t have me.”And then, to his complete astonishment, he asked, “What if I married you?”

“He saw nothing but the gentle ruffling of the leaves in the wind, but as he finished his sweep of the area, he somehow knew."Sophie!"He heard a gasp, followed by a huge flurry of activity."Sophie Beckett," he yelled, "if you run from me right now, I swear I will follow you,and I will not take the time to don my clothing."The noises coming from the shore slowed."I will catch up with you," he continued, "because I'm stronger and faster. And I might very well feel compelled to tackle you to the ground, just to be certain you do not escape."The sounds of her movements ceased."Good," he grunted. "Show yourself."She didn't."Sophie," he warned.There was a beat of silence, followed by the sound of slow, hesitant footsteps, and then he saw her, standing on the shore in one of those awful dresses he'd like to see sunk to the bottom of the Thames."What are you doing here?" he demanded."I went for a walk.What are you doing here?" she countered. "You're supposed to be ill.That-" she waved her arm toward him and, by extension, the pond- "can't possibly be good for you."He ignored her question and comment. "Were you following me?""Of course not," she replied, and he rather believed her. He didn't think she possessed the acting talents to fake that level of righteousness."I would never follow you to a swimming hole," she continued. "It would be indecent."And then her face went completely red, because they both knew she hadn't a leg to stand on with that argument. If she had truly been concerned about decency, she'd have left the pond the second she'd seen him, accidentally or not.”

“Well,” she finally said, “he’s coming back shortly, so you are absolved of your responsibilities.” “No.” The word came from him like an oath, emerging from the very core of his being. She looked at him in impatient confusion. “What do you mean?” He stepped forward. He wasn’t sure what he was doing. He knew only that he couldn’t stop. “I mean no. I don’t want to be absolved.” Her lips parted. He took another step. His heart was pounding, and something within him had gone hot, and greedy, and if there was anything in the world besides her, besides him—he did not know it. “I want you,” he said, the words blunt, and almost harsh, but absolutely, indelibly true. “I want you,” he said again, and he reached out and took her hand. “I want you.” “Marcus, I—” “I want to kiss you,” he said, and he touched one finger to her lips. “I want to hold you.” And then, because he couldn’t have kept it inside for one second longer, he said, “I burn for you.” He took her face in his hands and he kissed her. He kissed her with everything that had been building within him, every last aching, hungry burst of desire. Since the moment he had realized he loved her, this passion had been growing within him. It had probably been there all along, just waiting for him to realize it. He loved her.”