As George opened his bedroom door, he saw his wife with a petticoat over her head.
“Whatever are you doing, Mary? You look like an exceptionally large ghost.”
“Don’t make fun of me. I dismissed Darla and now I can’t find my way out of this petticoat.”
“Allow me,” he said with a grin, sorting through the ribbons before pulling the petticoat up and over her head. He smoothed Mary’s hair, kissing the back of her neck. “Is your maid returning?”
“I sent her away.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” He kissed Mary’s ear and moved his lips to her jawline. When he reached Mary’s mouth, she threw her arms around him.
After a moment, George picked Mary up, and carried her to their bed.
Mary put her hand on George’s chest. “Can you still love me after all that has passed?”
“If ever a man loved a woman, I love you, Mary. Our shared grief only makes my love for you stronger. You are everything to me.”
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