Good evening, my beloved readers. Thanks to a glitch on fanfic I sadly had to skip a day of posting, but we are almost there now. I hope to have the final chapter up by tomorrow night. Happy Easter everyone and thank you for seeing this through with me to the bitter (or sweet) end. :)

Chapter 39: Oak

The afternoon floated by in a haze of laughter and champagne. Phryne realised, that the only way she could have been any happier was, if she had actually managed to spend some time with Jack alone. But there seemed always someone wanting to talk with them or toast to them and they couldn't seem to find a quiet moment to themselves. And while Phryne couldn't spot anyone in the garden that she actually disliked and quite a few people, who she dearly loved, she really longed for some time alone with her husband. The thought caused quite a start to her and she glanced at Jack, who stood with Iris, Rupert and Cec and laughed at someone's joke, while draining yet another glass of wine. Her husband.

Phryne turned the thought in her head to have a closer look at it. Her heart fluttered involuntarily in her chest. It was still a strange idea that she was married and had a husband. Then again, he hadn't changed in the slightest. If anything, he looked more relaxed, a little more cheerful than he had before. As if the knowledge that she had said 'yes' to him in front of the world made their relationship more real. Of course, she had also wiped some shame from his old-fashioned mind, she knew. He wasn't a divorced man anymore. Not a live-in-lover, no undefined houseguest of the Honourable Phryne Fisher. Now he was her husband.

Jack wouldn't ever have admitted that any of this had bothered him. He loved her enough to live with her in sin. And she loved him enough to marry him. In sudden resolve, Phryne got to her feet, excusing herself politely from Hugh's and Bert's company and walked over to her Inspector, grabbing his hand.

"Would you excuse us for a second, please?"

She smiled her sweetest smile and pulled Jack away from the guest and around the corner of the Hall, before he had had a chance to protest.

"Phryne? Has anything happened?"

Instead of receiving an answer, Jack found himself being pushed against his tree and kissed passionately. When his wife retreated, he blinked, regaining his thoughts.

"What was that all about?" he asked, smilingly playing with a lock of her black hair.

"I just had a realisation," Phryne said, her red lips curling into a grin.

"And what was that, Miss Fisher?"

She tilted her head while his hand lingered in her hair.

"That I am your wife now and as such I have a right to spend some time with you."

Jack smiled, gently guiding her in for another kiss. This one was tender and full of longing.

"If however, you keep kissing me like that, dear husband, I will have to abandon our guests and ravish you," Phryne smiled under half-closed lids. Jack only smiled. They were both well aware that in the current situation such an adventure would be way too dangerous.

A thoughtful fingertip trailed over the sapphires wrapped around the brides neck, woven through strains of platinum.

"I seem to remember this piece," Jack smiled.

"Oh, this old thing. A present from a former lover," Phryne quipped.

"Is it? What did you do to him then?"

"I married him, of course," Miss Fisher grinned. "It did make for a beautiful version of 'something blue', though."

"You also make for a very beautiful version of a bride, Miss Fisher," Jack whispered beside her ear, gently nibbling on her neck.

"Phryne!" a voice called out. Jack retreated, rolling his eyes, while Aunt P stormed around the corner.

"There you are. It is really inappropriate that you would hide at your own wedding."

"I am not, Aunt P. I am merely having a word with my husband, away from the guests," her niece answered sweetly. "But I assume that is not why you were looking for us?"

"It is time for the Waltz."

"Is it?"

Phryne sighed, glancing at Jack's watch. She loved dancing, but waltzing, while a whole room or rather garden full of people watched her every misstep was not her idea of fun. Especially not with a head full of champagne and heels higher than was particularly helpful in areas covered in soft grass.

"We shall be over in a moment," she heard Jack say firmly and Mrs. Stanley took her cue to leave.

"So, where did we stop?" he whispered.

"At waltzing," Phryne smiled, slipping her fingers over his lapels and pulling him into another kiss.

"We better go," Jack said, regret colouring his voice. Phryne took a step backwards aiming for an appropriate distance and stretched out her hand.

"Oh, don't pull a face like that, Jack. It's the happiest day in our lives," she grinned.

"It will be tonight," he said under his breath, then cleared his throat and took her hand. In fact, he was just grumbling for good measure. While yes, he would have loved to retreat with his bride to a more private setting, his heart was still light with joy. And he truly embraced the time with their friends and families. It was nice not having to worry about what they would make of their relationship.

But mostly he just loved thinking of Phryne as his wife. It was something he hadn't dared even consider a year ago, when he had struggled with allowing himself to love her. It had been way, way too late by the time of course, but Jack Robinson was a stubborn man. He had been convinced with absolute certainty that she would break his already bruised heart if he granted himself the slightest of hopes. When he had been unable to deny his feelings any longer, she had, to his endless wonder and astonishment, taken the fragile piece between her hands gently, like a hurt butterfly and had nurtured it back to health. It never ceased to amaze him, that he was able to wake up beside her, that whenever he hurt, her hands were there to catch him and that he was allowed to hold her when she had one of her rare moments of weakness. It was breathtaking and surreal and still, there had so much nearness grown between them - as if they were really an oak with a vine wrapped firmly around it. It wasn't about passion, although she still caused his knees to weaken whenever she touched him. Despite them being so different, despite her driving him up the walls sometimes, he felt like he had finally come home in her aquamarine coloured walls as well as in her white arms. And the ring on his finger told him, that he was allowed to stay. There was no expressing the feelings crowding his heart today and no Waltz would be able to spoil that, even if he should stumble over his feet and rip Phryne's dress in the progress.

"Jack?" a gentle voice, accompanied by a nudge to his ribs, asked. He looked up into the blue eyes of his bride and cleared his throat. She didn't enquire where he had been off to, despite of course being curious. She was Phryne Fisher after all; even though her name may have changed, she hadn't.

"Sorry," he whispered, realising that there was a glass in his hand that he couldn't remember arriving there. The small part of him that was always watching the outside world, let him know that Uncle Walter had pushed it there, remembering his own Wedding Waltz all too vividly. Phryne was currently draining her own champagne. Then, to the amusement of guests, she peeled her heels of her feet, kicking them aside.

"Very ladylike, Miss Fisher," Jack whispered grinning, while he wrapped his arm around her back.

"It would be even less ladylike if I'd fall over my feet and rip my bridal gown," she whispered back, her red lips curled into a smile, as the first notes floated through the afternoon. Phryne felt a little light headed at this stage, if due to the champagne or Jack's nearness or simply the amount of happiness coursing through her veins, she couldn't have said. The spectators turned into blurry blotches of colours, as she turned in her Inspector's arms, cool, soft grass under her feet, hoping somewhere in the back of her mind, that no unfortunate bee would choose this very moment to sit there. It suddenly didn't feel scary or annoying at all. More like her life in general, a little danger, a little champagne and a lot of Jack. Just the way she liked it. The music trailed off, before other people joined them. A hand touched Phryne's shoulder, while she was still staring at Jack as if in trance. She looked up to see John Robinson beside them.

"I believe, I have a right to dance with my new daughter," the old man smiled, while Jack reluctantly let go of his wife.

"You better don't step on her toes, Father," he warned jokingly, which caused his father to raise a warning finger.

"I have swayed with your mother when you were still screaming in your crib, my Son and I will bring your bride back to you in one piece."

He grinned and Phryne felt oddly touched by the old man's joking, while she grasped his hand.

They turned for a little while in silence, before she realised, why he had wanted to dance with her.

"I feel I need to thank you," he said, while they danced past where Jane and Lizzy twirled in utter harmony, if completely out of rhythm.

"We had a deal," Phryne smiled. "I merely kept my end."

"I believe finding my lost sister was not part of it," John said.

Phryne shrugged lightly, thinking of Janey. She was never far from her mind, especially not on days like today.

"I'm glad that you have reunited" she said, feeling her father-in-law's grip tightened slightly, as if he had read her thoughts and was trying to comfort her. She attempted a thin smile. "She seems lovely."

"In difference to her brother, you mean?" John joked, going serious. "I know I have been quite a pain. And you were more than generous with me, I must admit."

He smiled, as they again turned past the two girls.

"And your quick wit also saved my boy, yet again. I can never repay you for that, even if I had your financial means."

Phryne looked at the old man, once again noticing the resemblance his eyes had to Jack's.

"Don't be silly," she laughed, and added, "God knows how the drama in the forest had ended if you hadn't been there." Phryne thought of the split second she had frozen in terror at the idea of having arrived too late. Before he could open his mouth, doubtlessly to defy her kindness, she continued, "but it doesn't matter, who saved him, John. He is all right."

She glanced at Jack who was currently dancing with Esmeralda, unconsciously smiling to herself.

John watched his dancing partner, who had obviously drifted off into other spheres, while their feet kept moving over the grass. He stayed silent, glad for her having stopped him from expressing what was on his mind. That this brief moment of weakness he had witnessed in this strong, reckless woman had impressed him even more than her cleverness. His daughter-in-law wasn't used to being anything but invincible to anyone, save possibly his son and John had no desire to rub her nose into having caught a glimpse behind the facade. But nevertheless the things he had seen, filled him with deep satisfaction. She would take care of Jack. And what else could he have asked for?

X

Away from the dance floor, in the shadow of a pear tree sat Mr. Butler, sipping on a glass of white wine. He was enjoying himself – somewhat. A big part of him was relieved that Miss Fisher and her Inspector had finally tied the knot with no murders having managed to stop them. An even bigger part was touched by Jack Robinson having asked him to stand by his side today. That of course was unusual for a servant, but Mr. Butler had taken the Honour upon himself with the appropriate pride. It also had been a beautiful experience to witness the love in the spouse's eyes as they had promised each other the rest of their lives. And yet... there was melancholy in Mr. Butler's heart. He missed his wife today, he realised, but he also missed Riya. His wife, who he had spent so many years with was never really far from him, almost as if she had grown into his heart and stayed alive in there. Yet, his time with Riya had woken something in him that he had believed to have long since forgotten. And today, witnessing so much romance and happiness, he ached with longing. Maybe he had made the wrong decision, he wondered miserably, watching Dorothy dancing with her husband. But then, he knew he hadn't. The girl held one of the spaces in his heart that he imagined he would have reserved for his children, had they ever been blessed. And he would not leave her alone at this stage in her life and neither his Mistress, who didn't know anything yet about the challenges that met a newlywed. Then again, she and her Inspector had probably worked those things out already. He was just being old fashioned. Mr. Butler sighed, draining his glass.

"Would you care to dance?" a voice asked behind him. Tobias froze. He was imagining things, he was certain. But when he finally did turn, it was her, standing in front of him in a silvery something that was probably supposed to be a dress. Riya Santi looked unusually embarrassed, as she waited for his answer, as if she actually expected a rejection. Tobias Butler finally managed to close his mouth and without a word offered her his arm. They joined the turning couples on the grass.

"What do I owe this pleasure to?" Mr. B finally asked wearily, after having watched his thoughts turn in circles along with the dancer's for a while. Riya bit her lip.

"You were right, Tobias. There is no point in wasting perfectly good time."

He cleared his throat.

"Does that mean, you will stay until you have to leave for India?"

She shook her head, completely confusing him.

"That means that I am an idiot, Tobias."

He answered this with a wry smile, keeping her tightly in his arms.

"I was on the ship already," she finally admitted, tilting her head. "In fact, I fear most of my wardrobe is on it's way to Madras right now. Then I realised, that I am running away from something great for no good reason and with very unfair methods. So I came to apologize."

"I do hope you didn't swim to the shore," Tobias joked, hiding the sentimentality taking over his heart. She laughed.

"We had not left the harbour yet, so nothing quite as adventurous."

Silence settled between them, while two hearts beat in a wild rhythm with the music.

"So where do we head from here?" Mr. Butler finally asked. Riya shrugged.

"I do not know. Let's be realistic, Tobias. We have both been widowed. Nothing lasts for eternity. But I have good people in India and my estate in Britain will just crumble further into dust under the caring hands of my housekeeper."

"And you?" he asked, holding his breath.

"I am here to enjoy many more sunsets with you. If you accept my apology."

Mr. B realised that there were plenty of people surrounding them, including his Mistress and Master and that his position really didn't allow for liberties like this. He couldn't have cared any less, had he tried, when he leaned down and kissed his lover.

X

Maria had outdone herself with the wedding cake and Phryne and Jack tried their best to destroy her masterpiece as efficiently as possible. The Inspector did raise his eyebrows at his wife when he noticed the filling, remembering a certain night on a roof top. He had fibbed his way through the story of their engagement on numerous occasions during the day and raspberries had not played a role in any of the stories he had made up. But the memories of sharing the little red fruits with Phryne caused him to tremble in anticipation of their wedding night. There might even be a chance of stealing some cake, he considered, smiling.

But then he was drawn into another conversation, this time with Bert, who seemed to have forgotten all about his dislike of the copper or at least having buried the hatchet for the day. Phryne watched a laughing Hazel feeding cake to Mac, realising that Olivia Morgan was standing close by. Even she could not help but smile a thin smile at the scene. Casually Phryne wandered over to her friend.

"I believe your lover's mother is slowly thawing out," she whispered to the Doctor.

"I doubt that," Mac smiled grimly, draining her glass while they watched Hazel wander over to the older woman, offering her some cake. "But it's all right. She seems to have made up with Hazel; that is all that really matters to me. I never expected to be welcomed with open arms."

"I am truly sorry that things are so hard for the both of you," Phryne said after a pause.

Mac shrugged.

"It's just the way it is. Call me delusional, Phryne, but I do harbour the strange hope that someday, maybe in a few decades or centuries even, people will understand that we aren't all that special. It's just love. Until then, we will just have to deal."

She smiled wryly and refilled her glass. Phryne wrapped her arm around her friend, watching the dancer's.

"I believe, you should ask your sweetheart to dance," she finally pointed out. "It is my wedding after all."

Mac smiled.

"I will consider it."

"Please do," Phryne answered. She kept her friend company, until she had come to a decision.