John had already dismissed Caradoc altogether and kept his eyes on his wife. His hand closed over her fingers and gave them a light squeeze as he helped her up. He cast a glance down the front of the tasteful black dress she wore. It was reassuring--though John wasn't sure what was being reassured--to see her out of the flat with polished hair and make-up.
The comment made a slow smile cross his face as he ran the back of his free hand over her swelling abdomen. John cast a glance up to her eyes. "I'm allergic," he replied and gently smoothed his palm over her quaffle-sized baby bump.
He was rather proud of himself for staying civil under such ridiculous conditions. It grated at him but John firced himself to stay unaffected--for Matilda's sake.
John brought her finds to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. "Would you care to dance?" he asked calmly.
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