"I'll look through my date book," Ophelia agreed pleasantly. "Though I don't think there's anything I won't be able to move." February was a dreary time for social events, anyway. There might be something to do around St. Valentine's Day, but those always seemed to be geared towards the unmarried — and they had a history of involving some magical shenanigans from persons unknown. Whether the charms came from hosts trying to play Cupid and help their guests along in the romance department or from tricksters looking to stir up scandal, Ophelia had no desire to find herself their victim. The letters she had exchanged with Mr. Bixby during the Amortentia letter period were mortifying enough — and, mercifully, she had had the sense not to act on any of the feelings created by the charm, just as Mr. Bixby had been at least honorable enough not to insist on doing so.

"Thank you," Ophelia said, nestling up against her husband. It wasn't merely a response to the offered trip to Africa, but for everything — for being understanding and patience despite her inability so far to conceive, for the little things he did every day, for being the man of her dreams.