“Marriage,” William said into his lower lip. “I choose marriage.”
“And you swear you will do your best to be a good husband and a good father?”
“I swear.”
“Good. Niles, will you attend William’s wedding?”
Lord Kipper raised a sleek brow, smiled, and raised his wineglass. “It will be a very nice wedding,” he said. “To William and—what’s-her-name?”
“Jenny MacGraff.”
“To William and Jenny.”
Everyone drank except Libby and William, who both moaned into their glasses.
“It’s done,” Thomas said when he and Meggie were finally alone some two hours later in the White Room, the door closed and locked. “It’s been a very long day. Now, at last, I can concentrate on you. I’ve been thinking about this since this morning.”
“Yes, it’s done. Let me tell you, Thomas, Mrs. Black is thrilled about it. Your mother is chortling because Libby will have a low-born daughter-in-law and be a grandmother before she will. Really? Since this morning?”
“Remember when you were dancing down the corridor and I ran into you? Yes, since that moment when I saw exactly what you were thinking. Your eyes tell me everything, Meggie. Everything. Come here.”
Meggie went, nearly skipping to him since she was so very eager. It was much a repeat of the previous night, but better, Meggie thought, grinning down at her husband, who looked nearly dead. She felt so good she wanted to sing, perhaps write a ditty for Mrs. Mullins about Mary Rose’s stewed fish stew.
She whispered against her husband’s ear, “Perhaps we could hold a cat race to celebrate the wedding.”
Life, Thomas thought, would never be boring with Meggie in it. He kissed her temple and wondered what the future would bring. More lovemaking, that was what he wanted, much more.
“Should you like to go to Italy, Meggie?”
“I should love it above all things.”
“Soon,” he said. “Soon.” He pressed his forehead against hers, breathed in her scent, unique to Meggie. “I was just wondering what life would bring us.”
“Lots of good things, I hope,” she said, and kissed his chin. “You know, Thomas, when I take you into my mouth like that and you—”
He jerked. He was hard that instant, something he’d sworn was beyond him for the next twelve hours. When she was moaning into his mouth, he was the one who wanted to sing with the pleasure of it.
* * *
Chapter 31
MEGGIE WAS WALKING along the trail that led to the Pendragon cliffs, whistling, occasionally flinging a stick for Brutus to retrieve, which he did with great enthusiasm. “Too bad,” she said, scrubbing behind his ears, “that there can’t be dog racing, but it just isn’t possible. Can you imagine racing, Brutus? No, you’d just sit there wagging your tail, wouldn’t you, or rush to bring back sticks. Your brain just isn’t fashioned for racing.” And she’d throw the stick again. Brutus was one of Thomas’s dogs, an exuberant terrier who looked more like a Clara, in truth, than a Brutus. One stick flew too close to the edge of the cliff. Brutus skidded at the edge and slunk down onto his haunches, whining softly. He would go no farther.
“What’s the matter? Oh, I see, you’re afraid the ground isn’t steady and you’ll go right over. You’re right. I’m too strong in my throwing. Let me get this stick, Brutus, and I’ll hurl it in the other direction.” She leaned down to get the stick when she heard a snicker of sound right beside her. She turned, then there was another snicker of sound and this one landed in her shoulder, hurling her backward off the cliff.
She screamed, loud, wailing, and hit the water below. She struck the water flat on her back and sank like a stone. She was sure she’d broken her back. She hit the bottom, but thankfully not hard. Waves washed over her head, rocks and sand tore her clothes and scraped her skin. She swallowed water, gagged.
It was the gagging that brought her right back up. The water was just over her head, and even though her clothes were heavy, she managed to struggle to shore. She was wheezing, choking, gagging on the harsh salt water, trying to get her breath and ignore her back, which felt like a large sofa was sitting atop her from striking the water so hard. Think about now, just about now. She pulled herself out of the water and fell on her face onto the sand.