Thanks for all the really lovely reviews.
Lucas pulled up in the car. Harry stood outside waiting for Ruth.
He missed her already.
The door of the vestry opened and there she was, changed back into her other clothes, her dress and shoes in a bag on her shoulder.
"You look lovely, Ruth but I think I prefer the dress."
"That's because it reveals more," she smiled.
"And what's wrong with that he?" he grinned, a hand drifting to her waist.
"Nothing," she admitted coyly, "I'll wear it for you later."
His hand gripped her a little tighter.
"Okay, do you want the good news, or the bad?" Lucas stood by the car.
"The good," said Ruth brightly.
"You're married," announced Lucas, his arms outstretched, "and that's not just good news, it's a minor miracle."
She laughed. It was a minor miracle.
"And the bad?" asked Harry, sensing he wasn't going to like the answer.
"No more miracles, just reality."
"The grid," murmered Ruth.
"Yes. Assassination threat to the royal family. All hands on deck, I'm afraid."
Harry looked at her.
"I'm sorry, Ruth."
"It's not your fault, Harry. So much for having my wedding night in Paris, it'll probably just be a night on the grid."
He leant in, his cheek against hers, his lips hovering above her ear and whispered in a deep and resonant growl.
"Wherever it is and whenever it is, it will be worth waiting for. And that Ruth, is a promise."
She wondered not for the first time that day if she was about to faint.