Kristen Ashley - Lucky Stars

Calvin Cole, Belle Bennett’s estranged ex-husband, was unattainable for comment and it is thought he’s left the country.

Lila Cavendish, renowned artist and the new Mrs. Bennett’s grandmother, was at the ceremony and will be unveiling her highly anticipated Cornwall series next month in a small gallery in St. Ives.

When asked if the couple will settle in London or Cornwall, Mr. Bennett’s spokespeople simply but confusingly answered, “But of course.”

Clearly, evidence is suggesting intriguing, handsome James Bennett and his beautiful, mysterious new wife intend to keep going as they have throughout their stormy courtship, quiet and private.

Belle’s eyes drifted from the article to the photo they were able to get. It was mostly of her Mom and Dad’s back, Dad’s head turned, his profile laughing. But through them you could see Belle, her hair pulled up in a soft, feminine up-do threaded with strings of tiny pearls, her head tipped back, a big smile on her face and that smile was aimed at Jack.

Jack’s handsome head was tipped down, his grin aimed at Belle.

She remembered that moment.

It was the best in her life.

And since then, they kept getting better.

And because of this, every day, several times a day, Belle Bennett thanked her lucky stars.

Suddenly, the magazine was pulled from her hand and tossed to the floor. Then she was pulled from the bed and found herself back in it, but atop Jack’s body.

“Stop reading that rubbish,” he muttered, lifting a hand to smooth the hair back at one side of her head.

“There was a good picture of you,” she protested.

“Really?” he asked.

“Jack, every picture of you is a good picture,” she told him and watched him grin.

Then she took in a breath.

Then, too casually, she wondered aloud, “I wonder if our child will be photogenic.”

Jack’s arms got tight around her and his grin faded from his face but his eyes grew intense on hers.

Then he whispered, “Pardon?”

“You know, when we were away the first time, how we decided –?”

Jack cut her off and asked in a low, rumbly voice, “Belle, are you carrying my child?”

Belle answered immediately and she did it in a soft, breathy voice, “Yes.”

Half a second later, she found herself on her back, her husband on top of her.

Beside the bed, Baron and Gretl settled in on a jingle of dog tags.

And out the window, winter rain fell soft on Cornwall.