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We stayed in DV’s cottage for the next two days, left alone and undisturbed on Sona and Mrs Fialho’s orders. I had already given my statement to the police, so they gave me the space I needed to heal and recover from my ordeal.
After two days of making love on virtually every flat surface of the house, we ventured out into the sunshine, only to be met by the scandalous sight of Freddy kissing Mrs Fialho over the balustrade of her porch.
“Get a room,” I yelled and Mrs Fialho brandished her rolling pin at me.
We walked over to them and I hugged the dear old thing as hard as I could.
“You saved my life,” I whispered.
“Because I love you,” she whispered back.
“And I love you right back, but when are you going to make an honest man out of this old coot?” I asked in less than a whisper.
She swatted me on the behind and smiled up mistily at Freddy.
“Whenever he wants,” she said firmly.
“And after you return from your honeymoon, you have to teach me to shoot like you,” I exclaimed.
“No!” they all yelled in unison.
“Rude!” I yelled back. “How the hell am I supposed to protect myself the next time a maniac tries to kill me?”
DV sighed heavily.
“Babe, the next maniac to try and kill you will be me, and that’s only to stop you from shooting me in the junk. So lay off the guns, because the only weapon you need is your sharp tongue,” he said, with a grin.
Hmph. As soon as we got home, I’d show him what this tongue was capable of doing.
We left the lovebirds to themselves and walked away hand in hand.
“Your Highness, when do you plan to make an honest man out of me?” asked DV casually.
I quoted Mrs Fialho and quipped, “Whenever you want, Bond Boy.”
He dragged me to a wooden bench on the side of the walking path and pulled something from his pocket. It was a familiar navy blue box, but the ring in it was unfamiliar.
“This is not my old ring,” I cried, referring to the traditional Bindhar engagement ring passed down from Maharaja to Maharaja. I had returned it to DV when I broke off our betrothal.
“No, this is a ring that my father commissioned for my mother the day he set eyes on her. Theirs was a true love match,” he explained. “She preferred this ring to the traditional one, even though she wore both. After Baba died, she took off both the rings, but she always meant to give this to me when I met the woman I loved. When I told her that we were together for the right reasons this time, she had the ring delivered by special courier.”
I held my hand out, and he slid it on with a soft kiss on my ring finger.
“It’s a perfect fit,” I said, admiring the beautiful pear-cut sapphire surrounded by a cluster of diamonds. Sapphire was my birthstone and it was as if this ring was made for me.
Then, I looked up into DV’s loving eyes. More than anything, this man was made for me. I beamed at him and raised my face for a kiss.
