A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Also thanks to MrsJoyceChilvers for her suggestions. No copyright infringement intended.

Was he serious?

It was past one in the morning when the final guests left Beecham House. Although most of the residents had already gone to bed, Jean watched from a distance as Cedric continued to regale the man from Opera Today with stories about his great directorial achievements over the years. She smiled in amusement as she saw the despair in the poor man's eyes when he tried to thank Cedric for his time and get away as quickly as he could.

It had been quite an eventful evening. Despite her apprehensiveness about performing again, having left the stage seemingly for good nearly forty years ago, the quartet from Rigoletto had been a huge success, and she had enjoyed it immensely to once more share the stage with her old friends. "Even if I didn't get twelve curtain calls," she thought, smiling at the narcissistic notion. As usual, she wasn't entirely content with her performance; some of the high notes had still sounded a bit shaky even after weeks of rehearsal, but she had resigned herself to the fact that her gift had indeed deserted her somewhat, unlike Anne Langley's – a thought which she was sure never to mention to anyone else. However, the audience had welcomed her with open arms and she'd reveled in their love and warmth. But even more important, she had been given a second chance at happiness with the man she thought she'd lost forever, Reggie.

After the performance had ended and the applause had died down, they were lovingly ambushed by well-wishers and admirers, all of whom had noticed how Reggie had tentatively reached for her hand when they were taking their bows. Noticing his gentle touch she'd reciprocated by holding onto his hand with quiet determination, and a fervent desire never to lose him again. That's when she felt a surge of love, passion and desire come over her, hitting her like a tidal wave – feelings which she so carefully had hidden away all those years ago in the aftermath of her confession that she had briefly strayed during their engagement. Their break-up had not been a civil nor an amicable one, so to have him reach out to her again that lovingly, and not only that, to ask her to marry him again, was more than she could've ever dreamed of.

In all the post-performance excitement – the congratulations and inquiries about her and Reggie, and about her decision to reclaim her rightful place in the spotlight – she'd somehow lost track of Reggie. So now, although exhausted from the evening's events, she was wandering the halls of the dormant Beecham House in search of him. She wanted to make sure his proposal was genuine and not the result of the adrenaline rush before going on stage, or a temporary loss of sanity. Of course, that wasn't the kind of man she'd known him to be. He would never propose something as significant as marriage had he not thought it through completely and meant it – she hoped.

Since she'd decided to give in and perform the quartet – partly out of a desire not to give Anne Langley star-billing – she and Reggie had grown closer and she would even have gone so far as to say they were true friends again. But aside from taking long walks along the grounds and talking all through many a night remembering times gone by, nothing had occurred between them since her move to Beecham House – certainly nothing that could have prepared her for his offhand proposal. She hadn't even realized how much she still loved and wanted him, in every way a woman can love and want a man, until Wilf mentioned to her that Reggie had never stopped loving her, just before they went onstage. That thought had never even entered her mind. She had in fact been afraid to entertain the notion, afraid of being heartbroken yet again, even though the last time it had been heartbreak of her own doing. It was almost too much to hope for, to believe that Wilf was right. But then again, he was known for blurting things out most people wouldn't dream of saying aloud. "It must be his Scottish heritage," Jean thought with a hint of amusement as she walked along the B-wing that led to her suite, "No Englishman would ever attempt to do the same." And yet as she thought about it more, in a way Reggie had earlier, with his proposal.

As she approached her room and opened the door, she quietly called out to him: "Reggie?" There was no response. She couldn't hide her disappointment at him not being there waiting for her, but she might have guessed. After all, being a proper Englishman, Reggie would never enter her room without her being there. Seeing as he wasn't in his own room, in any of the music rooms, or the great hall, Jean pondered where on earth he could be hiding, and then suddenly it came to her. Of course, the balcony! The one place he always sought out when he wanted to get away from it all and gather his thoughts together. It was also the place he'd stood and watched her, unbeknownst to her, on the first night after she'd arrived at Beecham House; something he'd confessed to her during one of their late night talks.

Jean made her way to the balcony as quickly as her bad hip and her cane allowed. When she arrived, she found the French doors wide open to reveal the silhouette of the man she loved against the bright night's sky. Just looking at him from a distance made her think of how much she had truly missed him – missed his loving eyes when he looked at her, his gentle touches, his dry wit, his stern exterior that belied an underlying passion, his penchant for marmalade, his soothing voice and most of all, the way he loved her.

As Jean stepped out onto the balcony, the cold night air took her breath away – it was October after all – and as she audibly gasped, Reggie turned around and smiled when he saw her. When his eyes met hers Jean smiled back at him and the chill of the night all but disappeared. Instead, she felt a rush of warmth come over her as she walked towards him only to have him meet her half way.

There they were, face to face, surrounded by the soft sounds of the night and the flickering of the stars in the sky. Jean wanted to say she was glad she'd finally found him, but before she could even start to talk, Reggie pulled her close to him, put her cane to one side, wrapped his arms around her and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. Jean didn't hesitate for a second and returned his kiss with equal fervor, wrapping her arms lovingly around his neck. It felt like no time had passed since they'd first kissed each other like this. The intensity and longing growing with every passing second. After they slowly let their lips ease away from one another, both desperate to catch their breath, Jean looked at Reggie and instantly felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. He did still love her! Now there was only one matter that needed to be resolved. As she relaxed further into his embrace, she looked at him questioningly.

"Did you really mean what you said just before we went onstage?"

Rather than answering her question, Reggie, without a moment's hesitation, dropped swiftly to one knee and looked up at her smiling broadly.

"Oh, Reg, please do get up! I wouldn't want you to strain any part of your body that may come in useful later on," Jean uttered with a cheeky twinkle in her eye.

"Don't you worry about me, Jean, I haven't lost any of my agility," Reggie replied with a smirk on his face.

Jean couldn't help but let out an endearing laugh at his confident reply. As Reggie took her hand in his, the multitude of feelings she'd experienced when he had so unexpectedly proposed earlier in the evening came flooding back. She was completely overcome with emotion as she heard Reggie, his voice tender and loving, ask the one question she thought she'd never hear again.

"My darling Jean, would you do me the honour, after 97 years" – she couldn't help but let out a chuckle – "of becoming my wife again, this time for a married life of more than nine hours?"

As Reggie finished speaking, Jean bent down, took him by the arms and guided him up so she could hold onto to him and look him straight in the eye when she answered him.

"Okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Reggie asked curiously.

"Just… kiss me," Jean said as a loving smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She felt Reggie hugging her closer and when his lips met hers all rational thought left her mind and she let herself be swept away by his loving touch and sultry kiss. When they finally broke away, Jean couldn't help but look sternly at Reggie.

"I just have one very serious thing to ask of you."

Reggie, noticing the unmistakable glint in her eyes and the lilting sound of her voice, held her tight, tilted his head slightly and waited for the smart remark that was bound to follow.

"Next time you propose, please, Reggie, don't do so right before we have to go onstage. I was in such a state of shock, I could hardly reach any of the high notes. And I can't bear the thought of having given Anne Langley the satisfaction of thinking her voice is better than mine."

"I'll make a note of that, my love," Reggie replied, unable to keep himself from smiling at the still fiery competitiveness of the woman he had loved for his entire adult life.

As Reggie and Jean made their way from the balcony along the corridors of the B-suite to Jean's room, Anne Langley was awakened by the sound of voices down the hall. She put on her dressing gown and opened her door slightly to see who was disturbing her peace at such a late hour, only to see Reggie and Jean happily making their way to Jean's suite. They were so completely enthralled by one another as to be seemingly unaware of their audience.

As the pair entered Jean's suite, Reggie took her hand and kissed it tenderly. Jean led him slowly to the bed, rested her cane against the night stand, and as Reggie sat down, she leaned over, cupped his cheeks in both her hands and kissed him ardently. "You stay there and make yourself comfortable," she said as she walked over to the door, leaving a flushed Reggie on the bed. Just before she closed the door, she looked out into the darkened hallway and caught sight of Anne Langley's face still peeking out of the door across the hall, with what seemed to be a disapproving and at the same time envious look on her face. Unperturbed, Jean smiled at her and with a mischievous wink, and a decided click, closed the door to her suite.