“Practical is not the word I’d use. Have you seen what they did to the fainting couch?”
Alice sighed happily. “Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”
Down below, Thea broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “Propose to me properly.”
Alaric’s breath caught. His thumb brushed her cheek. “I thought I already had.”
She smiled. “Then do it again.”
“I love you, Thea.”
“And I love you, Inspector Ward.” She kissed him, long and lingering. “By the way, where did you put your handcuffs?”
“Thea—”
“Oh, hush, you’ll like it. I did.”
“They’re disgusting,” Celeste murmured, though she was smiling now.
“They’reperfect,” Alice said, dabbing her eyes with a spectral handkerchief. “And you have to admit, Celeste, he loves her.”
Celeste was silent for a long moment, watching as Alaric broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to Thea’s, whispering something that made her laugh so hard she snorted. “I suppose,” Celeste finally allowed, “he’s family now.”
Alice grinned. “Welcome to the haunting, son.”
Somewhere, in the roots of the grave they’d share centuries from now, the soul of Highgate cemetery exhaled a breath of contentment.
The family plot was full.
The dead were pleased.
And the living were madly, messily, gloriously in love.
The End
