Imogen stared after the two men as they disappeared, and then she turned her attention back to the trolley. It was full of platters and there was a bottle of Dom Perignon in a wine cooler. Imogen ran her finger over the condensation.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he murmured as he came to stand behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist.
“Starving,” she nodded, though in that moment, food was very low down on her priority list. “I am surprised though that I didn’t see Gianni at the christening, seeing as you invited half of London.”
“He couldn’t make it,” Theo responded, deadpan. “His chef called in sick at the last minute.”
“But you did invite him?”
“Of course,” Theo shrugged.
Imogen laughed, shaking her head. “You are unstoppable.”
“Gianni means a lot to me,” he said seriously.
“I gather as much.” She spun in the circle of his arms, her eyes meeting his. “And that it’s mutual.”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Do you feel weird?”
“Weird?” She frowned. “No. Should I?”
“I just mean… no Hermione.”
“Oh, right.” Imogen shrugged. “I’ve had about twenty-seven photos from mum in the last ten minutes so…”
“Right.” He kissed her gently. “Shall we?”
“Uh huh. Carpet picnic. What do we have here?” She stepped away from him to survey the trolley and he crouched down to the lower level, pulling out one of the many smaller platters. Imogen watched with interest.
“There’s focaccia. Steak. Pasta. Risotto. Soup.”
“Enough to feed an army?” She prompted with a hint of impatience. It was just like Gianni to go so completely overboard.
“Well, a ravenous you and me, at least.” He held the platter higher. “This is what I thought we’d start with.”
“What is it?” Imogen lifted the lid, her stomach growling in anticipation. Only the platter was empty; at least, it was at first glance. She leaned closer and then gasped. Right in the middle of the white plate was a ring.
“Theo?” She stepped back, looking at the ring, then at Theo. He was paused on one knee, his expression solemn.
“Imogen,” he repeated softly. “I would have married you months ago, but I wanted to wait until you were sure. Until it was right. But nothing could ever make me happier than if you would promise to be my wife.”
“Your wife?” She repeated with incredulity. “Your wife?”
Theo grinned. “You know, that thing people do..?”
“Yeah,” she bit down on her lip, happiness fluttering furiously inside of her. “I’m familiar with the concept.”
/> “But you need convincing?” He murmured.
She didn’t, but surprise and excitement kept her lips compressed.
He stood, his eyes not shifting from her face.
“I married once because I thought I should. Because my parents wished it, and her parents wished it, but it was wrong. Not like this. I love you. It’s that simple. I love you in a way that means everything to me. I look at you and I wonder how I ever lived without you? How did I ever think I was happy? You are my world. You and Hermione. What I want, dearest Imogen, is to stand in front of our loved ones…”
“The thousand or so you rallied today?” She interrupted with a smile.
“At least,” he nodded, meeting her expression with a grin of his own. “And I want to pledge myself to you for life. Will you marry me?”