by Brenda Joyce
The minister coughed.
Annabel started. "I do," she said, firmly and loudly.
"Do you, Pierce Wainscot Braxton St. Clare, take this woman," he began.
"I do," Pierce said, cutting him off. "I take her for now and forever to be my wife and my partner in all deeds, good and"—he grinned-—"bad." And he pulled her forward while she stood on tiptoe and they kissed, for a very long time.
"Excuse me, my lord, we are not done," the minister cried.
But neither the bride nor the groom heard him. The kiss went on and on. And slowly, the audience began to clap, until applause filled the reception hall.
Lucinda and Lizzie were crying. Adam and John were as obviously moved. Tears even appeared in George's eyes. And Melissa was smiling, albeit reluctantly.
"I now pronounce you man and wife," the minister said, somewhat glumly.
Annabel pulled away from her husband. "So when," she whispered, still on tiptoe, "is the next caper?"
And he laughed and kissed her again.
