"Why, Nathanial," she answered without a flicker of a smile. "That was all settled when first I yielded to thy embrace."
Nat's mouth dropped open, then he laughed, as he remembered his studies of the customs and morals of Abby's time.
"Abby, verily thou art priceless," he said delightedly in her own speech.
She gave her opinion of him, silently ... with her lips.
"Abby," Nat finally whispered, "I'm going to give you the best honeymoon a woman ever had."
"Honeymoon? Of a truth, I know not of what thou speakest."
Nat chuckled, then kissed the end of her pert nose. "You'll see, my love, you'll see. But first we have to make you Mrs. Nathanial Lyon. There was a time, right after the Third World War, when marriage was easy, with no questions asked. So right now, it's off to the disorganized world of the late 20th century."
And so began one of the strangest honeymoons in the history of Earth's human race.
Nat and Abby were unseen observers when Pericles ruled Greece. They visited the court of Charlemagne, walked through the streets of Rome at the height of its splendor, viewed the glories and wickedness of Babylon and Baghdad, watched the artisans of old Cathay.
But fate chose their honeymoon as the time of their undoing.