Life gets so terrible, so awful, miserable, sad…but she gets a happy ending. They marry in almost the exact opposite way she'd pictured it. That morning the lady's maid tucked a white flower in her hair, just under her ear. It stook so starkly against her new hair…darker. She'd been in such a dark time, it had seemed appropriate. They'd grinned at one another as she examined it in the mirror. James was waiting down stairs, talking quietly with her father. He falls silent and looks up to her adoringly. She swears her father has tears in his eyes as he kisses her on the cheek. He cannot come with them, unfortunately, he has already delayed his trip to India to see her off. "You look lovely, my darling." he says. "Positively glowing."
She tries not to wince at his ill-timed words as she and James wordlessy exchange thoughts. By the time he returned from India she would have had her child (their child) and James would be a father and Gregory would be none the wiser about his grandchild's conception. It was James that broke their stare, coughing behind his hand. "Yes…Nigel is waiting with the cab."
"Goodbye, Father." She says, kissing him twice on the cheeks, trying not to ruin her makeup. Nigel has the biggest grin of them all, waiting just outside the gates with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets.
The priest was a friend of Nigel's, agreeing to appropriate the cerimony in the old chapel. Quickly and quietly they exchanged their vows and he slipped the simple wedding band onto her finger. Afterwards they'd taken a walk through the park, hand in hand whilst Nigel walked dutifully beside them. "Thank you for being there, Nigel." Helen tells him, holding out her hand to touch his elbow. He responds with a smile. "Anything for my dearest friends, love." Nigel is a good man. He sends them off with a cheeky remark and a smirk, leaving them alone in her father's not-quite-empty Sanctuary.
James seems entraptured by her rooms at first, sitting on the bed in his shirtsleeves and trousers. Helen comes from the bathroom in a nightgown, flower still precariously tucked into her hair. "Did you have a good day, Doctor Watson?" she inquires playfully, moving to straddle his lap. James seems unsure for a moment but then understands, gliding backwards and resting his palms on her hips. "I did indeed, Doctor Watson."
"I think I'd like to keep my name." she tells him absently, wriggling so that she can kiss a trail down his neck. He chuckles and she can feel it on her lips. "Yes, that would be best I think. It would be terribly confusing otherwise. Two doctors in the family."
She's glad he understands. That he still accepts her. She's only human. Who could have blamed her for not seeing what was so blindly in front of her the entire time?