“And behave yourself,” she added, before turning to Penelope. “If he gives you any trouble, pet, you are to write me at once, is that understood?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Penelope giggled before throwing her arms around her now mother-in-law. “We shall be back before you know it.”
“None of that now!” the older woman gently patted Penelope’s back before releasing her. “After everything you have been through, you deserve a proper rest.” She raised a hand to Penelope’s cheek. “Just make sure you enjoy the honeymoon, your mother and I shall always be right here.”
After several more minutes of slow goodbyes, promises to write, and other reminders, Duncan and Penelope eventually managed to peel themselves away from their mothers and settle into the coach.
Penelope waved outside the window and blew kisses to Mother until the coach turned the corner and Blackmoore Manor was taken out of sight.
As she settled into her seat, she caught Duncan staring at her.
“What?” she chuckled.
“Oh, nothing.” He shrugged, shifting from sitting in front of her to sitting beside her. “A part of me worried that if you started crying, we’d have to turn the coach around and cancel our honeymoon. It’s a huge relief that it didn’t have to come to that after all.”
Penelope threw her head back in laughter. “Really? You would do that for me?”
“Of course,” Duncan huffed, draping an arm around her shoulder as he rested his chin on her head. “Haven’t you realized by now that I would do absolutely anything for you?” he lazily let out.
“In that case, perhaps we should turn the coach around. I’m far too tired from the ceremony, guests, and whatnot.”
“Are you serious?” He lifted his chin off of her to scan her face.
“Yes.” She shrugged in feigned nonchalance. “I presume you’re every bit as tired as I am, so why don’t we leave tomorro-”
She let out a surprised squeal as Duncan captured her lips in a kiss. When he finally pulled away he drily remarked, “You’re lying.”
“I- I beg your pardon?” she stuttered, still in shock.
“You’re not serious about turning the coach around,” he repeated triumphantly. “You were just trying to get a rise out of me. That kiss told me so.”
“You can’t detect whether someone is lying based on a kiss!” She landed a soft punch on his arm.
“Yes, I can,” he insisted.
Penelope rolled her eyes. “What? Are you trying to say that you can taste whether their words are truthful?”
“Exactly,” Duncan smirked.
Penelope examined his features in the glow of the setting sun’s rays that poured in through the window. “No, you can’t,” she finally concluded. “You just wanted an excuse to kiss me.”
“If you don’t believe me, perhaps you should try the method out for yourself,” he offered, intertwining their fingers together. “You know, see for yourself how effective the method is.”
Penelope shook her head at him before pecking a soft kiss on his cheek. “I can’t believe I married you,” she giggled, before settling into the crook of his shoulder again.
“Neither can I,” he mumbled, returning his chin to its spot on her head.
The last thing Penelope saw before she closed her eyes was the sight of their hands tangled together under the warm glow of the sunset and a part of her silently prayed that this coach ride would never end.
The End?
