Luca was looking extremely unhappy. “I’ve been here a little too often for my liking,” he muttered.
Kilmartyn looked at him in admiration. “As a pirate?”
“No, a pickpocket.” He followed the wedding party inside, looking over his shoulder every now and then.
It was a strange and glorious celebration. The magistrate, Sir Duncan McGrew, also known as the Hanging Judge, presided over the ceremony, the groom had a pirate and a reprobate lord stand up for him, Sophie had her sisters. The police gathered round, bringing their felons and miscreants with them, and there was a tear in many a criminal’s eye at the end, when the shouts of huzzah were so loud Sophie thought her eardrums might burst. She looked up at her new husband as he placed a dutiful kiss on her lips and she smiled.
“This wedding,” she said, “is absolutely perfect. Let’s see you try to improve on this.” Reaching up, she caught his head in her hands, yanked him down, and kissed him as hard as she could.
Sir Duncan was required to read the riot act before everyone peacefully dispersed, some to a prison cell, some to a hangman’s noose, and some to their marriage bed.
“Do you think they’ll be happy?” Bryony asked her husband as she slipped into bed beside him.
“I have absolutely no doubt at all,” said Kilmartyn, “but right now I’m more interested in our happy ending.”
Bryony’s smile was dazzling. “So am I, love. So am I.”