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the doors, illuminating the bride from behind and making her look as if a halo shone around her veiled head.

Gabriel couldn’t stop smiling. He smiled through the entire Mass, including his vows to worship his wife and the performance of selections from Bach’s Sleepers Awake and Mozart’s Exsultate, jubilate by a solo soprano.

After the ceremony, he placed trembling fingers on Julia’s veil and lifted it carefully. He swiped his thumbs underneath her eyes, wiping away the happy tears that had trickled down, and kissed her. The kiss was soft and chaste, but full of promise. Then they walked to the lower church and down to the crypt.

They hadn’t planned to do so. Somehow, hands entwined, they found themselves approaching the tomb of St. Francis. In the quiet darkness where Gabriel had his ineffable experience months earlier, they knelt in prayer. Each silently thanked God for the other, for the many blessings He had given them, for Grace and Maia, for their fathers and siblings.

When Gabriel finally stood and lit a single candle, each of them asked God for one more blessing. One small miracle out of the lavishness of his grace. As they ended their prayers, a strange but comforting feeling wrapped around them like a blanket.

“Don’t cry, sweet girl.” Gabriel took her hand to help her to her feet. He wiped her tears away, kissing her. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m so happy,” she said, smiling up at him. “I love you so much.”

“It’s the same for me. I keep wondering how this happened. How did I ever find you again and convince you to become my wife?”

“Heaven smiled on us.”

She reached up to kiss her husband next to St. Francis’s tomb without shame, knowing that her words were truly spoken.

Chapter 56

Later that evening, they changed into their honeymoon clothes, a dark suit for Gabriel and a purple dress for Julia, and sat side by side in a chauffeured car that he’d hired.

Soon the car was pulling up the drive that led to a villa near Todi. The very same villa that Gabriel had rented when they visited Italy the year before.

“Our house,” she whispered, as soon as she caught sight of it.

“Yes.” He kissed the back of her hand as he helped her out of the car. Then he was taking her in his arms and carrying her across the threshold.

“Are you disappointed? I thought you’d prefer some quiet time to ourselves, but if not, we can go to Venice or Rome. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He placed her on her feet.

“This is perfect. I’m so glad you decided to bring us here.” She threw her arms around his neck.

At length, he pulled away. “I think I should carry our luggage upstairs. Are you hungry?”

Julia grinned. “I could eat.”

“Why don’t you see if there’s anything tempting in the kitchen, and I’ll join you soon.”

She leaned forward with a devilish look on her face. “The only thing in the kitchen that would tempt me would be you on top of the kitchen table.”

Her sultry suggestion hearkened back to their previous visit, when they’d christened that table several times. With a deep groan, he quickly carried their suitcases upstairs as if someone was chasing him.

In the kitchen, Julia found the pantry to be fully stocked, as was the refrigerator. She laughed when she saw several bottles of cranberry juice lined up on the counter, as if they were waiting for her. She’d just opened a bottle of Perrier and finished preparing a cheese plate when Gabriel returned. He seemed years younger as he raced into the kitchen, boyish even, his eyes bright and his expression cheerful.

“This looks delicious. Thank you.” He sat at her side, glancing at the kitchen table significantly. “But I have to say that I’d rather our first few times occur in bed.”

Julia felt her skin flush. “This table has happy memories for me.”

“For me too. But we have plenty of time to make new ones. Better ones.” He gave her a heated look.

She felt the flutterings of desire increase.

“Was the wedding everything you hoped for?” He gazed at her eagerly, pouring two glasses of sparkling water.

“It was better. The Mass, the music—having the wedding in the Basilica was incredible. I felt so at peace there.”

Gabriel nodded, for he’d felt that way too.

“I’m glad we only invited family and close friends. I’m sorry I didn’t have much of a chance to talk to Katherine Picton, although I saw you dancing with her twice.” Julia pretended to be offended.

He eyed her in mock surprise. “Really? I danced with her twice? That’s pretty impressive for a septuagenarian. I’m surprised she could keep up with me.”

Julia rolled her eyes at his pretentious choice of adjectives.

“You danced with Richard twice, Mrs. Emerson. I suppose we’re even.”

“He’s my father now too. And he’s an excellent dancer. Very elegant.”

“Better than me?” Gabriel feigned jealousy.

“No one is better than you, darling.” She leaned over to kiss away his pout. “Do you think that he will ever marry again?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He took her hand in his and caressed her knuckles gently, one by one.

“Because Grace was his Beatrice. When you’ve experienced a love such as that, anything less would seem like only a shadow.” He smiled sadly. “Strangely enough, it was the same in Grace’s favorite book, A Severe Mercy. Sheldon Vanauken never remarried after his wife died.

“Dante lost Beatrice when she was just twenty-four. He spent the rest of his life mourning her. If I were to lose you, it would be the same for me. There will never be anyone else. Never,” he emphasized, a fierce but loving look in his eyes.

“I wonder if my father will marry again.”

“Would it trouble you if he did?”

She shrugged. “No. It would take some getting used to, but I’m glad he’s dating someone kind. I’d like him to be happy. I’d like him to have someone kind to grow old with.”

“I’m looking forward to growing old with you,” said Gabriel. “And you are

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