Charles muttered to himself as he examined two suspicious grooves in the frosting on his slice of wedding cake. "I say, I believe someone had a taste of this before I did."
"Just eat it," Cedric said gruffly as he used a spoon on his own slice. Dear, sweet Anne had brought him a spoon, remembering his aversion to sharper utensils.
"Righto, old boy." Charles dug into the rich cake and had a bite before speaking again. "I didn't believe you actually meant to go through with this, you know. But somewhere between the ring exchange and the vows it occurred to me that you genuinely care for your wife."
"Of course I care for her."
"I mean you truly care. I think you may be in danger of falling in love with her." Falling in love was uttered with all of the excitement of a doctor discovering an outbreak of plague.
Cedric found Charles's shoulder and jostled it in a brotherly fashion. "Well don't become joyous on my account."