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forehead. “One more question—and I didn’t want to ask before, because it showshow ignorant I am, but what the heck is a wedding breakfast? I mean, are we all getting eggs over easy and bacon with hashbrowns?”

“Oh of course not, Mark. It’s what they call the celebratory meal after the wedding. It’s the first meal as a married couple.”

“I suppose it was the breaking of a fast, in a way.” Scott pulled her closer. “And there’s another thing, and I’d hate toget off on the wrong foot as your husband, but I’ve got to tell you, Maisie, it was a bit of a shock when the registrar calledyou Margaret—how come you never told me that was your full name?”

“I’ve just always been ‘Maisie’ ever since I was a child. Anyway, I wanted to keep you on your toes. I’ve asked the vicarto use ‘Maisie’ during tomorrow’s service, but the registrar was the official part. The blessing is . . . it’s for the spirit.”

“Hmmm. Okay, I get it. And you’re sure you don’t mind losing the title?”

“I rarely used it anyway.” She remembered Gabriella Hunter’s housekeeper. “Just occasionally when I needed to cross a trickythreshold here and there.”

 

The Service of Prayer and Dedication, the church ceremony during which the marriage between Mark Scott and Maisie Dobbs was honored before a congregation comprising family, friends, Scott’s fellow diplomatic staff from the embassy and a smattering of Maisie’s colleagues, including Robert MacFarlane, had also drawn a good number of villagers, who were pressed into pews at the back of the small church. Anna and Billy’s daughter, Margaret Rose, were bridesmaids, two little girls who could not stop giggling from the moment they followed the couple as they made their way along the aisle until Brenda turned and raised an eyebrow while putting her forefinger against her mouth.

As he bound the ecclesiastical stole of embroidered silk around the hands of the married couple, the vicar of Chelstone ParishChurch asked the congregation to forever love and support the bride and groom as they moved forward into a life together.He blessed the marriage, completing the service with the words, “May your love sustain you, support you in times of joy andsadness, in sickness and health, good times and bad, and for all the days of your lives.”

Villagers who had gathered outside applauded, and someone shouted “About time!” as Maisie and Mark Scott emerged from thechurch into the low winter sunshine of late afternoon. Colors of red and gold leaves not yet fallen were reflected in Maisie’scream gown, which was topped with a short matching woolen cape, while a thick band of silk embellished with pearls kept herhair in place. A photographer did his best to marshal the company, and the bridesmaids began their infectious laughter again.Robert MacFarlane’s voice suddenly boomed out, and soon the assorted guests were following his orders regarding where theyshould stand for the photographer, who seemed both grateful for the interference and intimidated by the source.

Mark and Maisie stood up for their first dance as the band began to play “At Last,” the melody they had come to refer to astheir song, and after a few moments, Mark steered Maisie toward Anna, picking her up with one arm so they danced on with Annabetween them, the bridesmaid who still could not stop laughing. Mark nodded toward the Americans present, who cheered andraised their glasses.

“This is just what my gang needed—a good day out and something to make them smile. They’re all enjoying themselves—it’s a break from London and the bombs.”

Yes, it was a day to remember, a day when Maisie Dobbs felt as if she had rediscovered all she had lost years ago. She dancedwith every man and some of the women, laughing as she and Priscilla swept around the Chelstone Manor ballroom as if they hadnever been to war and never been scarred by death. She danced with each of Priscilla’s sons, though Tarquin left her withbruises across her feet, and in between each dance with a guest, she was swept away again by her husband.

“Got a dance for your old man, love?” said Frankie Dobbs, as the band began to play a slow number. “This is about my speed.”

“Dad! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for this dance!”

“I don’t need to ask if you’re happy, do I, Maisie?” said Frankie as he led his daughter at a slow pace on the dance floor.

Maisie smiled. “No, you don’t. Dad, I am happier than I have ever been. I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful daughter.I have you and Brenda, and I have my best friend here, and look at how fortunate I am in having Rowan and Julian cheer meon. Billy is happy, Sandra is happy. We’ll all be even better when the war’s over, but for now, I could not be more blessed.”

“The war will pass, love. It will pass. They always do. We’ll be changed, though.”

Some guests were staying at the inn in the village, and a large group from the American embassy were being put up at the manor. Others were making their way home in the blackout, and all too soon the party wound down. Frankie and Brenda left a few minutes before Mark picked up Anna, who had fallen asleep under a tapestry-covered bench in the manor’s grand entrance hall. Watching her new husband carry the daughter he now claimed to love at least as much as her mother, Maisie felt she had to pinch herself in case this happiness were a dream and she might wake up at any moment.

After putting Anna to bed, she joined Mark, Frankie and Brenda at the kitchen table, where they were exchanging stories fromthe day, discussing who had said what and who danced with whom. As their talk turned to everyone getting a good night’s sleep,the telephone began to ring.

“Probably someone lost on the road in the blackout,” said Scott. “Lucky they found a telephone kiosk.” He looked at Frankie.“I don’t know about you, Frank, but my dogs are barking!”

“He

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