A Romantic Interlude in 1952 London

They spent the day walking through the shops, speaking to salespeople, seamstresses, and tailors. Norton Hartnell and Victor Stiebel on Bruton, Hardy Aimes on Savile Row–they visited them all. Calista was especially enamored of Digby Morton and his elegant tweed suits. Of course, they couldn’t resist the urge to try on dresses, shoes, and accessories. Kate stood in the dressing area of Mattli assessing a particularly lovely dress she’d picked out for Calista to try on. “Sugah, you look absolutely gorgeous in that dress. We have to get it for you.” Calista glanced at the price tag and nearly recoiled. “Oh, Kate, it is beautiful, but I couldn’t possibly spend that kind of money on a dress.” Kate’s eyes flashed with affectionate stubbornness. “Well, I will get it for you. I can afford it, and I want to see you at dinner in it... tonight, if possible.” Calista looked down, a shy smile gracing her lips. “Well, if you insist.” Back at the hotel, Kate insisted Calista wear the new dress—not that Calista needed much prodding now. As she stepped into the fabric, Kate reached out to help with the zipper, her fingers brushing lightly past the silk across the bare skin of Calista’s back. Calista turned around, her hand finding Kate’s as she met her gaze. “Darlin, you will be the most beautiful woman to grace The Ritz Grill this evening,” Kate whispered. “They won't see another like you in a lifetime.” Calista accepted the compliment, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Kate's lips. “I am so thankful to have you in my life. In every life I will always choose you.” Dinner at the Ritz was fabulous—fresh Dover Sole and some of the finest lamb chops in the kingdom]. They moved through the grand dining room looking like movie icons, and more than once during the evening, Calista caught people glancing their way in quiet appreciation. Later, in a hotel room illuminated only by the London streetlights spilling through the windows, Kate slowly lowered the zipper of Calista’s beautiful new dress. Calista let the silk drop to the floor, stepping out of it while Kate delicately gathered the fabric, folding it neatly over the dresser. Stepping back into her arms, Kate gazed into her eyes. “I love you, babydoll.” Calista kissed her passionately, her hands wrapping around Kate's body before she whispered against her lips, “I love you too, cupcake.” She gently guided her toward the bed. Their passion held a white-hot intensity, but even that physical electricity paled in comparison to the soul-deep love they shared. It was a bond that had held them together for centuries, expressed now in the purest, most profound way possible. It was a song without words, conveying an absolute, timeless joy between two souls.