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Chapter Text

Chapter 1

The long-suffering couple kissed on the cliffs until the shuffling of the carriage horses and throat clearing of a coachman behind them caught their attention.  Only slightly embarrassed, they pulled apart.  Charlotte approached the coachmen.  

“Would you kindly return my things to Trafalgar House.  I’ll not be leaving Sanditon after all.”  The words brought tears of joy to her eyes.  “And please inform Mrs. Parker that I have gone to Heyrick Park.”  

“Ma'am.”  The coachman nodded and began to turn the carriage.  

Charlotte turned to see her love smiling at her.  Unable to contain her joy, she ran into his arms, her bonnet flying away in the fierce cliff winds.  She did not care.  As their lips united for the second time, Alexander lifted her from the ground in a spin of dual delight. Upon finding her feet once again on the ground, Charlotte looked up at him and smiled, a bit overwhelmed and unsure of what to do next.  Alexander put his hands on both of her shoulders.   

“You will be my wife?” he asked, needing confirmation in his disbelief.  

“Yes, of course.  I love you, Alexander.”  

He nearly collapsed at the sound of his name.  Seeking support, he pulled her into an embrace, which immediately informed her just how cold he was.  “Alexander, you are freezing!” She immediately unrolled his sleeves and buttoned them.  

“I was working in the stables when Leo delivered the news.  I did not take the time to dress for fear of missing you.”  

“Oh, Leo!  Shall we go and share the news?”  

He nodded vigorously, pulling her by the hand across the trail and mounting Hannibal before offering her a stirrup.  She popped up behind him and used the extra material from the bottom of her pelisse to wrap him and hold him tightly against her warmth.

With Alexander’s kick, Hannibal coursed to Heyrick Park.  Charlotte clung to his waist.  If she was honest, she had dreamt of riding with him on more than one occasion.  The reality was even better than she’d imagined.  The ride to Heyrick Park at a canter was four or five minutes at best, but time seemed to slow for Charlotte as she closed her eyes to the wind and pressed her cheek into his back.  She slid her arms under his, holding the fabric in her hands and placing her palms on his chest.  She could feel his heart pounding. Was it from the riding or from her?  Her own heart pounded, too, in disbelief.  Twenty minutes ago, she had said goodbye to her life in Sanditon, headed for Ireland in an attempt to finally leave her love for him behind.  Then there he was, placing himself in her path.  “My affections have not wavered,” he had said.  He imagined them to be fathomless .  No doubt so were her own.  The more fiercely she tried to fight them, the deeper they became.  She felt her eyes well and held him even more tightly, hoping he could feel through his back that her heart beat like his own.  

The family Colbourne sat anxiously in the parlour.  Augusta sat in the window seat, continuing to keep her distance as she wallowed in heartbreak.  Leo sat with Susan, curled into her side. Samuel paced, crossing and uncrossing his arms.  

“Do sit down, my dear,” Susan implored.

Samuel plopped onto the settee on the other side of Leo.  The sandwiched child began peppering them with questions. 

“Uncle Samuel, Is Papa really going to ask her this time?”  

“I do hope so, Leo.”  

“I do so want Miss Heywood to be my mother.”  

“We all do.  But, not to worry.  Even if that does not happen, in the past two weeks you have gained both an Uncle and an Aunt and we,” he tapped her on the nose, “shall continue to cherish you.”  Samuel reached behind Leo to find Susan’s shoulder and she crossed her arm to find his hand.  “And you are cherished as well, Augusta,”  he shot across the room to the solemn girl on the window seat. “Whether she likes it or not,” he added to Susan, who patted his hand.  

“Why is it taking so long?” Leo wondered aloud.  

“Well, perhaps the carriage had already left and he had to chase her down the road,” Samuel conjectured.  

“Or perhaps they are returning Charlotte’s things to Trafalgar House,” Susan added.  

The voice from the window seat startled everyone.  “Perhaps they just want time together and have chosen not to come home right away.”  

Samuel and Susan looked at one another with a smile of hope and contentment on Alexander and Charlotte’s behalf.  

As if to cover the loving nature of her comment, a sarcastic Augusta then added, “So that they do not have to deal with your incessant questioning.”   

Samuel’s and Susan’s smiles turned to smirks as they recognized a spark in Augusta for the first time since her ordeal.  

Charlotte released her grip as Alexander pulled up on the reins at the beginning of the trees that lined the drive.  He turned into the grass, kicking the animal to a slow, broad canter and pulled up again under a large tree.  As her eyes adjusted to the light, Charlotte realised that it was their tree.  He offered her an arm and the stirrup to dismount before doing so himself and then gave Hannibal a pat on the rear.  The horse trotted off to the stable independently.   

“Alexander?  Will they not be waiting for us?”   

“Let them wait.”  He immediately moved with a hand around her waist to pull her into him, devouring her lips like a starving child tasting cake.  Charlotte consumed him in equal measure, relishing the sweet taste of him.  When they finally separated their lips, they remained a hair's-breadth apart, Alexander brushing her lips, cheeks, and nose as he spoke.  “Charlotte, I wondered if we might take a turn about the grounds, so that we might pretend that these last three months of heartache and despair never happened, and so that I might properly ask you to be my wife?”  

Charlotte chuckled, “Did you intend to do so…that day?”  

He kissed her lips again and pulled back slightly to look at her, “I did.”  

“And what were you going to say?” she asked without judgement or acrimony.  “I know you must have rehearsed it.” 

“All night,” he admitted.  “I barely slept.” 

“Nor did I.”  

Alexander leaned in to kiss her again before continuing, “I believe what I had planned to say was, ‘My behaviour has been well outside the bounds of propriety, but, you should know it is only because I find myself so completely in love with you and I ask that you stay and be my wife and a mother to the girls and the Mistress of Heyrick Park.’”    

Charlotte reached up to cup his face with both her hands.  “Well, I will stay, and I will be all of those things.  And I must own my share of the misery we have caused one another, but the heartache and pain make it all the more precious, no?  Perhaps it has taught us the importance of conquering our fears to achieve what we want?”  

“Ever the teacher,” he replied, tucking her stray hairs behind her ear and leaning in to kiss her one final time before returning to the house and, he was sure, losing her to Leo for the afternoon.  But knowing that it was to be the final time for at least a few hours, he found his body unwilling to stop, despite his mind’s admonishment.  He felt as he did the night of the ball, knowing he must put her in the carriage but absolutely unwilling to do so. As his mind finally acquainted itself with their current situation, he found Charlotte as unwilling to relinquish his lips as he was hers.  She put her hand on his lapels and pulled him closer.  He responded with one hand behind her head and the other at the crest of her bottom, forcing all but their legs as tightly together as possible, lest they tumble to the ground.  They toddled in tandem toward the trunk of the tree until she was pinned against it. 

Charlotte was unsure what to make of him, or of herself.  She did not want to stop.  He felt divine, love pouring from every inch of his body.  Without realising it, she put a hand to his chest.  “You are very cold, My Love, and we really must get you inside.”  

Alexander gripped the back of her head with his hands to protect it from the trunk of the tree and stared at her.  “Say that again,” he whispered, his voice slightly choking.

“My love,” she whispered back.  They sighed in concert among their heaving breaths.               

Alexander smiled.  “I can assure you, Charlotte…My Love, that I am quite the opposite of cold.”  

His light-hearted comment finally broke the tension between them and they set off arm in arm toward the house.    

Hands joined in a simple gesture, Charlotte and Alexander entered the foyer of Heyrick House much as they expected…to Leo’s resounding joy and shouting.  

“Miss Heywood!”  

Charlotte knelt down and said quietly, “Hello, Leo.”  

“Will you stay this time?”  

“Yes, Leo.  I am staying for good.”  

The child dove at her new mother and Charlotte began again to weep with joy at the sudden change in her circumstances.  “Oh Leo, my precious child,” she whispered into the blond mop of hair.  Leo gave her a final squeeze and then turned and dove at Alexander wrapping her arms firmly around his waist.  

“I’m so glad you finally asked her, father!”  

“As am I, Leo.” He looked up at Charlotte with a glance that combined euphoria and disbelief and repeated, “As am I.”   

“As are we all,” Samuel added from the doorway. 

Charlotte’s gaze travelled from one Colbourne brother to the other.  

“Susan!” she nearly shouted in surprise as she set eyes on her friend standing next to her future brother-in-law.  “I thought you had left for London.”  

“So did I,” Susan replied.  “It turns out, the people I value most, and who value me, are in Sanditon, not London.”   

“Oh, I’m so happy for you both!”  Charlotte reached one hand for Susan and one for Samuel.

“And we are exceedingly happy for you, my dear!” Susan replied.   

Samuel walked across the foyer and tapped his brother’s shoulder twice, grasping and giving a small shake the second time. They heard a quiet sobbing from the corner of the room.  Mrs. Wheatley was standing at attention as she usually did when the family was gathered.  She wiped her eyes as they all stared at her.   

“I am sorry, sirs.  It should be beneath my dignity to cry.  And perhaps it is not my place to say so, but I am delighted to have you both in the house, speaking to one another, and seemingly content.  It has been a long time coming.  I am very glad for you both.”  She took a deep breath and composed herself with one more wipe below her right eye.  Charlotte crossed the room and took her hands. 

“Oh Mrs. Wheatley, it is you we should thank, I suppose.  It was you who brought me to Heyrick after all.” 

Alexander spoke.  “I daresay that you knew from the beginning how important Charlotte would be to all of us.”  

Mrs. Wheatley smiled.  

“What makes you say that?” Charlotte inquired.  

“Because it was I who bet her a shilling against you,” he smiled devilishly, then walked across the room, taking her hand and spinning her under his arm as if dancing into the parlour.  “Best shilling I ever spent.”  

As her spinning came to a stop, Charlotte noticed Augusta, looking forlorn in the window seat.  She squeezed Alexander’s hand to ask for privacy.  Alexander squeezed it in return, reluctant to give her up, even momentarily.  He kissed her head.  

“Will you stay for dinner?”  

Charlotte nodded. 

“We’ll be in the conservatory.”  He brushed Charlotte’s face once more then turned to his niece, “We hope you will join us as well, Augusta.”  

Charlotte gathered her thoughts and approached Augusta cautiously.  “Augusta, how are you feeling?”  

“You mean besides naive and gullible?”  

“Oh, Augusta.  You are not alone.  You are far from the only woman to have been fooled by a man using love for his own ends.  Just ask Georgiana.” 

Augusta leaned in to give Charlotte a hug.  

“How soon will you be my aunt?”  the young lady asked.  

“Is that how you will think of me?”  

“Yes.” 

Charlotte smiled.  “I will be your aunt in three weeks on Thursday.”  

“He is so much different when you are present.”  

“Oh, Augusta.  I know that you were not pleased with the way that your uncle initially handled the situation, but surely, in hindsight, you can understand that he was right.  In fact, it was I who was in the wrong.  I allowed my emotions to get the better of me and I gave advice to you without knowing the full context. It was a terrible mistake and you paid dearly for it.  I would never have encouraged you had I known it was Edward Denham.  Believe me, your uncle doesn’t know half of what I know of him.  You are so much more deserving than the likes of him.  Please, please do not punish your Uncle.  He loves you Augusta, as if you were his own daughter.”

“Yes, well, a few months ago, I did not believe him capable of loving anyone, so I suppose he is somewhat improved.”      

Charlotte squeezed her soon-to-be niece’s hand in reassurance.  “Will you come to the conservatory with us?  We have much to celebrate.”  

Augusta nodded and allowed herself to be led to the happy occasion.    

After a full day of family, games, a performance from the Samuel, Charlotte, and Leo Theatre Company, and more pheasant than any of their stomachs could handle, the family sat contentedly around the dining table.  Alexander and Samuel each sat at one end, their ladies to their left, with Leo beside Charlotte and Augusta beside Susan, which also placed her next to her uncle for the first time since their return from Falmouth.  Alexander had informed Charlotte earlier in the day that he did not intend to hide his affection for her within his own home, but promised to be judicious for the sake of the girls.  He therefore clenched Charlotte’s right hand in his left atop the table, in clear view of all.  The clock in the study struck nine o-clock.  

“Mother, will you read to me and tuck me into bed?” Leo asked.  

Charlotte gasped and her eyes immediately welled.  Alexander brushed his thumb along her hand and glowed at her in admiration.  

“Oh Leo, there is nothing I would like more.  But your father usually does that, does he not?  Do you not think he will miss it if he cannot join us?”  

The child beamed at the thought of two parents tucking her into bed. She quickly grabbed both their hands as they headed for the staircase as a trio.  

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Mrs. Wheatley sighed quietly.  Peaceful silence befell the trio remaining at the table.  

“I shall retire as well,” Augusta said.  “It has been quite an eventful day.”  

“Indeed it has,” Samuel confirmed.  “Goodnight, Augusta.”  As she approached the door he added, “Oh, and Augusta, we are glad to have you dining with us again.”  

The young woman flashed a small smile before heading to the staircase as well.  

Samuel turned to Susan.  “Shall we retire to the drawing room, My Lady?”  

Susan picked up her wine glass and stood for Samuel to pull out her chair.  He pulled it away and quickly slid an arm around her waist, reeling her in for a kiss.  

“Very smooth, sir,” Susan teased. 

“I thought so.”  He kissed her again.  “I am glad you thought so, too.”  He offered her an arm.

“Will you stay again tonight?” he leaned down and asked quietly.  

She answered just as quietly.  “Well, the last time I stayed, I arrived after the family was abed and we managed to rise at dawn. I don’t know if we will be able to manage that again.  Surely my apartment in town is preferable, lest your brother believe us to be setting a poor example for the girls.”

“And would you prefer to split our time with London?  I will need to return at some point to tend to some clients.  The Colbourne townhouse is not grand, but certainly enough for the two of us. The decor has not been touched since my mother was alive, but I am sure you could quickly remedy that.”

“Samuel,” she urged him to stop. “Has it occurred to you that once a certain person discovers why I have not returned, your number of clients may dwindle?” 

“Is his majesty the vengeful type?”

“Did you not read the papers at all last summer, my dear?  He put his own wife on trial in parliament.”  

“Samuel sighed. Well, I suppose the only way we will know is to go to London and see what transpires.”  

“So it seems.”  

“When shall we leave?”  

“Friday?”

“Yes. I’ll need to discuss a few things with Xander before we go. He may well wish to travel with us. I imagine he will need to make some bank draws for the wedding.”

“And visit the jeweller?”

“That too.”  Samuel smiled and they settled into quiet company as Susan leaned into his shoulder on the settee and they stared together into the flames.  

As Charlotte and Alexander approached town, he stopped Hannibal in the very spot where he had stopped the coach earlier.  

“You should probably ride in the front into Town,” Alexander suggested.  “If you are to teach at the school, you will not want the townsfolk to question your moral character,” he smirked.  He offered her an elbow off of Hannibal.  Charlotte walked toward the cliff so that she could view the beach.  It was high tide and the spray over the cliff felt marvellous.  The winds from earlier in the day had blown the clouds inland and the moon reflected upon the water like a lantern.  

“I do love the sea,” Charlotte said contemplatively.  “I would have missed it.”  

“It is quite a force, indeed,” Alexander replied, pulling her into his shoulder and kissing her on the temple.  “It is not a wonder you are drawn to it.”  Charlotte turned as he gathered her in both arms.  “I love you, Charlotte.”  

She met his lips with a glow nearly as bright as the moonlight.  “I love you, too.”  

“I must return you to Trafalgar House.  It is late.” 

“Yes.”  

Alexander mounted Hannibal, sitting as far back in the saddle as possible.  

“I fear I have never ridden this way,” Charlotte said.  

“Put your right foot in the stirrup instead of your left, take my arm and turn as you sit.  Be careful you do not twist your ankle.”  

She followed his directions.  

“See,” he said.  “Easy.” 

“Indeed,” she said before kissing him again.  “Perhaps sitting in front is not so very bad,” she smiled.  Hannibal stirred beneath them and Alexander simultaneously pulled the reins and kissed his betrothed.  A slight click of his tongue and they walked at the slowest walk that Hannibal could manage. 

“We should have brought Perses,” Alexander offered. 

“Why?” 

“He has a slower gait than Hannibal.”  

Charlotte nestled herself into the comfortable spot between the tip of his shoulder and his clavicle, the top of her head fitting perfectly into the curve of his neck.  She allowed her eyes to close.  The moonlight was so bright she could see the glow even through her eyelids.  She sighed contentedly.  Alexander responded by kissing her head once more. 

“I like it when you do that,” Charlotte said.  “It is very tender.”  

“Good,” he did it again, “because I believe it shall happen several times daily for the rest of your life.”  

“Alright,” Charlotte smiled and snuggled the side of her head even deeper into the crook of his neck.  He responded by hugging her more tightly with his right arm.  By the time they arrived at Trafalgar House, it was nearly ten-thirty and Charlotte was asleep on his shoulder.  

“Wake up, My Love,” he whispered into her hair.  “We are here.”  

“I was not asleep,” Charlotte mumbled. 

“You most certainly were,” Alexander smiled.  

Charlotte slowly sat up to face him and yawned.  Alexander slid down from behind her and tied Hannibal to the post.  Placing his hands about her waist, he lifted her down and reached up to cup her face.   

“You know, the last time I delivered you to this door, I was trying to memorise your face, afraid I would never see you again.  I could not bring myself to say goodbye.”  

“Well, now you shall never have the need.  Let us go in and receive our congratulations.”  Charlotte knocked quietly, afraid the bell would wake the children.  Alexander’s face was beaming when Mary opened the door, his arm wrapped firmly around Charlotte’s waist.  

“I apologise for the late hour, Mrs. Parker.  I fear Leonora was rather insistent that her new mother tuck her in to sleep.”  

Mary gasped with her hands to her mouth.  “Oh My Dear!” She immediately reached to hug Charlotte.  “When the coachman returned, he said there was a man on a horse and that you kissed him on the cliff and that it was the most romantic thing he had ever seen!  We were so excited that we nearly came to Heyrick Park just to be sure.”  

“You would have been welcome, of course,” Charlotte replied.    

“The children would barely go to sleep over their excitement that you are staying, Charlotte.  Though I am not sure they will be happy when they realise they must relinquish you in a month or so.”  

“They will have no need to relinquish me.  I shall be bringing Leonora into town with me so they will see me.  And of course, they will be welcome at Heyrick Park, as well.”  

Alexander chimed in, “Speaking of which.  We are hosting a dinner at Heyrick Park Thursday  evening to celebrate and you are all invited.  We shall have it early so that the children can attend as well.”

“We are most honoured, of course,” Tom Replied as he and Arthur stepped into the foyer.    

“When is Georgiana to return, Arthur?” Charlotte asked.  “I want to write to her with my news, but I fear my letter would cross paths with her to London.”  

Arthur answered.  “She did not set a return date.  She has been gone but two days, so I do not imagine she will be returning yet.”  

“I shall send her a letter in tomorrow’s post, then.”  

“She will be overjoyed,” Arthur replied.  

Silence filled the foyer of Trafalgar House.  

“Well,” Mary finally spoke, “Say your goodbyes, my dear, and then, we want to hear all about it.”

Alexander and Charlotte exchanged embarrassed glances.  Alexander shuffled his feet and spun his ring.  Neither seemed to know what to say to end a day they had both begun with broken hearts.  Finally, Charlotte stepped toward him, burying her head in his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around him.  He responded in kind, clasping her head in his hand as he held her. 

“Thank you, Alexander, for stopping the coach today.”  

“I had no choice.  It was carrying my heart to Ireland.”  Alexander stepped back and turned her head with both his hands, kissing her with gentleness and reverence.  “Until tomorrow then, My Love.”  

Charlotte smiled, “Until tomorrow.”  

She watched him exit and sighed when the door closed behind him.  Mary joined her seconds later.  

“Oh my dear, you must tell us all that transpired.  We are all dying to know.”

“Yes,” Arthur chimed in, handing her a glass of wine.  “Do not spare us any detail!”  

“Well,” Charlotte said, “I was riding in the coach.  We had passed the church and were ascending the cliff when suddenly the coach stopped, and there was Alexander, sitting atop Hannibal, placing himself squarely in my path….”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

“Ah, Mr. Colbourne, the very man,” Tom said as the butler escorted Alexander through the foyer and into the dining room.  

“Alexander?” Charlotte seemed alarmed.  “Is everything alright?”  

“Yes of course.”  He pulled a bouquet of blue asters from behind his back, “I just woke up this morning and couldn’t wait to see you.”  He handed her the flowers and smiled shyly, “No cornflowers this time of year, but the colour is close.”    

Charlotte took the flowers, blushing.  “Thank you,” she said and gave his hand a squeeze. Alexander simply smiled and stared, attempting to communicate with his eyes how much he wanted to kiss her. Mesmerised, Charlotte noticed her chest begin to heave as she attempted to keep her calm.  “Please, join us,” she finally offered, motioning to the breakfast table.  

“I have already eaten,” Alexander said, “but it is a bit chilly on the cliffs and a cup of tea would not be amiss.”  

“At least you are wearing a jacket today,” Charlotte retorted.  

Arthur added an extra chair beside Charlotte’s.  

“Well, Mr. Colbourne,” Tom continued, “it seems we are in your debt yet again, for keeping Charlotte here.  I fear we, especially the children, would have missed her terribly.  She really has become part of our family.” 

Alexander replied, “As she has become a part of ours.”  Carefully keeping both hands above the table, he slid his knee into hers and rubbed her ankle with the side of his boot.  Charlotte slid the entire length of her calf tightly against his as they stilled and settled into clandestine contact.  

“Speaking of family, Tom,” Charlotte began.  “My father and family will most likely not attend our wedding.  My father, as you know, has never been further than five miles from home and, given what transpired between myself and Ralph, I don’t imagine they will be attending.  I wondered if you might consider giving me away in his stead.”  

Tom’s eyes welled as Mary clenched his hand and smiled with pride.  “Of course, my dear,” he sniffed.  “It would be my honour.”  

“When is it to be?” Mary asked. 

“We’ve not decided yet,” Charlotte replied.  “Alexander has kindly agreed to purchase a licence, though, so that Ralph does not have to endure the reading of the banns in Willingden.  And I would like to hold the wedding before all of the flowers disappear, I suppose.” 

“Between the greenhouses at Heyrick and Sanditon House, we should manage that just fine.”  

“I would not deign to ask Lady Denham for flowers!”  Charlotte chuckled.   

Alexander quickly replied, “I would.  And I believe that she might be… amenable …to my requesting a favour.”   

Charlotte smiled.  Of course she would.   

“Indeed, Mr. Colbourne, as you are co-investors now,” a properly clueless Tom replied.

Alexander continued.  “Mrs. Wheatley will need time to prepare the house for the wedding breakfast.  What do you say, My Love, three weeks?” 

“That will give Georgiana, Otis, and Agnes time to return from London, but is that not near Leo’s birthday?” 

“It is.  I cannot think of a finer present than a mother,” he finally took her hand, unembarrassed to do so.  “Can you?”  

She squeezed his hand and looked at Tom and Mary.  “Three weeks Thursday, Tom.”  

“Excellent!”  he replied, reaching for Mary’s hand in mirror of his guest.  

As the blissful couple walked down the beach, Alexander said, “I thought I’d never get you out of there!”  

“Well, I had to convince Mary that you are indeed honourable and that I do not require a chaperone.”  

“And for that, I must thank you.”  

“Well, it turns out that, given the trial, she trusts Samuel more than she does you, so I hope he won’t mind my invoking his good name in our favour!” 

“Ha!  If she only knew the mischief my brother has caused in his lifetime!” 

Charlotte giggled.  “I am so happy that you have made amends.”  

“Yet another change in my life I must attribute to Charlotte Heywood.”  

“I must say that I am excited to know him better,” she leaned on Alexander’s shoulder, “and to know you better, through him.  He must have some wonderful stories.” 

“Oh, I’m sure he does, but never you fear, the ones I have of him are far more incriminating.” 

“Such as?” 

“Such as the time Mrs. Wheatley found weevils in the flour and Sam asked for the flour to study the bugs but instead dumped the critters between our governess’s sheets.”  

Charlotte laughed, “Oh, dear.”  

“Or the time he promised to help me across the mudhole so that we did not ruin our new shoes and purposefully pulled his hand away instead.”  

“Well that is simply cruel.”  

“Yes well, he had torn a hole in his shirt and knew that our father was far more likely to notice the muddy shoes and thus I would receive a small boy’s beating rather than the more severe lashing he would have received, being six years my senior.”    

“Samuel mentioned when we were in London for the trial that when he inherited, the estate was saddled with debt.”  

“It was.  Then I got married and suddenly had twenty thousand.  He had never wanted to shoulder the burden and abdicated his responsibility.  Samuel loved Cambridge and then London.  He loved the intellectual life and the life of a gentleman that went with it.  I did not.  I love the country–the sea and the animals and the space for contemplation.  I decided to accept the burden of the debt and invested much of Lucy’s dowry, to her dismay, into returning Heyrick Park to profitability.”  Alexander stopped walking and turned to take both her hands.  “And you already know what happened after that.”  

She was up the beach from him, making her lips much closer to his than usual.  She wanted to say thank you to him, for sharing a piece of himself so readily, but words did not seem enough.  She leaned in rather than up to kiss him.  At first, Charlotte could feel the chill that the sea breezes had placed upon their lips, causing her to smile within their kiss, but the moment Alexander moved his jaw, the smile disappeared in favour of enveloping warmth.  She released her hands from his and pulled him closer by the lapels of his jacket and he drew both arms around her back. Neither of them had any idea how long they stood there, lips united, bodies intertwined, neither thinking that anyone might be watching.  When they finally pulled apart, Alexander peered up the cliff to see Miss Hankins, walking behind the church.  

Wanting to save Charlotte from scandal in any size or form, he said, “Shall we stop and see Reverend Hankins now?”  

“We should have taken the cliff trail and not the beach if we were going to do that.”  

“We can walk around.  I certainly do not mind extra time walking with you, My Love.”  

Charlotte pulled his lapels again and gave him another gentle kiss.  “Say it again.”  

“My Love,” he repeated, running his finger along her cheek.  He suddenly got a look of mischief on his face.  

“Alexander?” 

“Are you wearing drawers under your dress?”  He suddenly asked. 

“It seems I did lie to Mary!” Charlotte narrowed her eyes at him.  

“It is a perfectly honourable question.”  

“I don’t see how!”  

“We can scale the cliff.” 

“What?” 

“There is a way up, but I will be below you and so it is important that you are wearing something underneath.”  

Charlotte smirked and shook her head at him.  “Yes.”  

“And are you prepared for an adventure?”  

“Always.”  Charlotte removed her pelisse, rolled it, and tied it around her waist.  She then took the skirt of her dress and tucked the bottom of it into the makeshift belt, leaving only her woollen stockings and drawers showing below.  “Now you understand why Leo prefers trousers.”  

Alexander took her hand and led her over the large boulders at the bottom.  He pointed at what he claimed was a trail.  “First, you cut across from here to the left, scaling the boulders.  Then, you see that wide ledge that travels to the right?”  

“Yes.”  

“The end of that is a bit of a gymnastic event.  You must stretch your hand to that upper outcropping and then your foot across to the lower.  From there, you can see it is basically a series of steps and you are at the top.”  

“Alexander Colbourne I thought you wanted to marry me, not be the cause of my death.”  

“It is not as hard as it looks, I promise.  Come.”  He motioned as he stretched his long legs from boulder to boulder and offered her a hand.  Charlotte had not imagined, when she awoke at Trafalgar house on a morning that she had not even expected to be in Sanditon, that she would be scaling a cliff two hours later!  But she was not about to give up on this endeavour.  Letting go of his hand, she followed the trail as he described, determined to take as little of his assistance as possible.  When she came to the gymnastic event, she heard him behind her.  

“Good.  Hand first, then leg.”  

Following his guidance she quickly moved across and ascended the boulder stairs to the top, turning to see her love coming gracefully behind her.  She offered him a hand over the edge.

“You were right, My Love, that is not as hard as it looks,” she smiled.    

Charlotte began returning her clothing to its normal state.  Meanwhile, Alexander turned to see Miss Hankins and Dr. Fuchs along the side of the church.  Fuchs kissed her hand before turning to leave.  Miss Hankins turned.

“Mister Colbourne?”  her voice was a combination of embarrassment and wonder at how they had suddenly appeared.  

“Good morning, Miss Hankins.  We would like to speak with the Reverend, if he is available.”  

Beatrice Hankins smiled broadly as Alexander offered Charlotte his arm and she slid her own hand through.  

“Of course.  This way.”  

Charlotte and Alexander followed behind Miss Hankins arm in arm. 

“Brother,” she said quietly, “Mr. Colbourne and Miss Heywood wish to speak with you.” 

The man turned with his head twisted a bit to the side. “Ah Mr. Colbourne, I daresay we’ve not seen you in this building in quite a long while.  Have you come to renew your relationship with the Lord?”  

“Only if the Lord consents to my marrying this fine lady, for if he does not, I fear he shall lose that battle for my soul.”  

Charlotte struggled not to laugh, pursing her lips to contain the squeak in her throat.  

“Oh I see.  Might I ask, Miss Heywood, how this has come about?  You are betrothed to the young man from Willingden, are you not?”  

“I was sir, but it was the wrong choice, for both of us.  We wanted different things in a marriage.”  

“I see.  Yes well, having a partner with whom you see eye to eye is of utmost importance.  And uhm, when would you wish for this happy union to take place?”  

“Three weeks Thursday,” Charlotte replied.    

“That will not be enough time for banns I fear,” he looked at Alexander, “and so am I to assume that you will be purchasing a licence, Mr. Colbourne?” 

“You assume correctly.”  

“You are aware of the cost?” 

Alexander simply stared at him.  

“Yes, well, we will need to have two sessions together prior.  One with myself and my sister to discuss the choice of hymns and readings and another with only myself for ecclesiastical counselling prior to marriage and …uhm…conjugation.”   

Both members of the couple internally groaned.  Charlotte turned to Miss Hankins.  “Regarding music, Miss Hankins, I believe I would prefer Bach for the entrance and exit.  And for the Hymns, perhaps some Handel would not be out of place?”  

Miss Hankins smiled in agreement.  Charlotte turned to the Reverend, hoping to spare them at least one of the meetings.  “And as for readings why not Ecclesiastes Chapter 4, Verses 9-12.  I have always loved that poem.  And for the New Testament, why not St. Paul’s epistle from Ephesians.”  She looked at Alexander, “‘He who loves his wife loves himself.’” 

“Yes, my dear.  Those are fine choices.  You do spend daily time with your bible, I see.  And, uhm, for the Gospel?”  

“Well, since we will use Ecclesiastes rather than Genesis, why not Jesus’ invocation of the latter from Mark Chapter Ten?  In that way we can also include Genesis, for which I know you have a preference, sir.”

“Another fine choice, Miss Heywood.  And of course after the Gospel I shall give one of my more acclaimed addresses in which I ruminate on how the word conjugal derives from the Latin meaning yoked together .”  

Barely containing herself, Charlotte turned to look at Alexander as if to say,  I took care of one meeting, it is your turn to take care of the other .  

An embarrassed Alexander chimed in, “As for the ecclesiastical counselling, you can plainly see that Miss Heywood has not the need, knowing the Bible as she does, and I would remind you that I have been married before and am therefore familiar with the required duties of a husband.”  He pulled out his billfold, “What is the cost, sir, for the licence?”  

The bumbling reverend answered, “Three pounds, Mr. Colbourne, but…”  

Alexander cut him off.  “Very well.  Here you are.  You may send any paperwork to Heyrick Park.  We will see you three weeks from Thursday.  Thank you so very much for seeing us today.  Charlotte…” He made a motion with his arm for her to turn and placing a palm in the small of her back shuffled her out of church.  

As soon as they were outside, he grabbed her hand and they ran down the hill in a gaggle of giggles until they were quite out of view and had no fear that the good man may have tried to follow. Alexander reeled her in by the hand to kiss her soundly.   

“I must truly love you, to endure that man,” he said.  He leaned in to kiss her again.  Finally, curiosity got the best of him.  “What does it say?  The Ecclesiastes.” 

Charlotte held both his hands, swinging them slightly as she recited:

Two are better than one, 

Because they have a good return for their labours.

If either falleth, 

The one will lift up the other.

But woe to him that is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up. 

If two lie down together, then they have heat, 

But how can one keep warm alone?  

Though one may be overpowered, 

Two can withstand all;

And a threefold cord is not quickly broken.  

Alexander stood and stared at her, using his palms to hold the loose strands of hair away from her face.  “Do you remember that fathomless love I spoke about?”

Charlotte nodded her head in his hands. 

“I believe it just found itself several fathoms deeper.”  He stared at her in adoration.  “I shall endeavour every day to deserve you, Charlotte.  I am not sure I ever shall.”  

Charlotte stepped closer to claim his lips.  He was full of words of late.  Words she had never believed she would hear him speak.  Each time he did she found herself unable to contain her longing to kiss him in appreciation.

“And as for the heat,” he said against her lips and kisses turned to smiles.  

“I am due back in Sanditon at ten o’clock.  I have an appointment with the dressmaker.  It seems I have a special event to attend and I must look my best.”  

Alexander offered her an arm and they returned to Sanditon in peaceful silence.    

Georgiana stood at the podium of the Society for Effecting the Abolition of the Slave Trade addressing the white members of the group as well as the Sons of Africa.  She had not intended to speak on this day, but after Otis introduced her, most people in the room had insisted she speak. 

“Mister Wilberforce and those of the former generation, who continue to call for a gradualist approach, are wrong.  No person being held against his or her will should continue to be so.  And it is not only the formerly enslaved who insist.  Englishwomen everywhere are boycotting to insist that we will not have another generation of children born into this evil system where mothers can be sold away from their daughters and sons at the whim of a white man.”  She paused for a breath to gather herself and continued.  “I am well aware that my fortune was made on the backs of my shackled brothers and sisters.  I cannot change the past.  Rather, I intend to spend it in securing their release and those of you calling for gradual abolition should be warned that you will not receive my financial support.  I encourage others to follow my example and support only those anti-slavery organisations and members of Parliament calling for the immediate emancipation of all those held in bondage.”  

Half the room erupted in applause.  The others exchanged concerned looks.  Mr. Wilberforce stood and walked out.  Georgiana raised her eyebrows at Otis, who offered an encouraging smile in exchange before turning to accept congratulations from a few friends who had yet to congratulate them on their news.   

“Nicely done, Georgiana,” Otis greeted her as he took her hand and tucked it beneath his arm.  “Are you ready to return home?”  

“Yes.  I have several letters I must post.  I wish to write to Charlotte in Ireland to inform her of our wedding and I also need to write to Mr. Colbourne to see if he knows any real estate brokers who will be fair in their assessment of us as purchasers or tenants.”  

“Very well, then.  Home to write and then to the post before the end of the day.”  

5 October 1820

Dearest Charlotte, 

I am writing with exciting news.  Otis and I are to be married on Saturday at a small chapel in Stepney.  We are not having guests so as to avoid the papers.  I am so happy, Charlotte.  I spoke at a meeting of the Abolition Society today.  Mr. Wilberforce was there and apparently unhappy with my insistence that immediate manumission is the only path forward.  After my speech he stood and left. It felt liberating to be able to speak freely and with purpose again.  

I hope this letter finds you well and that your week’s travel to Ireland was uneventful and efficient.  Please give my regards to Alison and Declan. 

Warmest Regards, 

Georgiana

5 October 1820

Dear Mr. Colbourne, 

I am writing to enquire if you might provide the names of any housing brokers in London whom you know to be fair and who would be willing to treat me with the respect I am due.  By the time you read this letter and reply, I will be Mrs. Otis Molyneaux, and I am hoping that the change in my name and status will prevent any notoriety from interfering with the transaction.  

I look forward to receiving your recommendations. 

Sincerely, 

Georgiana Lambe

5 October 1820

Dearest Georgiana, 

I am writing to tell you that I have had the most wonderful change in circumstances.  It seems that Mr. Colbourne was not engaged to Lady Lydia after all!  I was in the coach departing Sanditon when suddenly the coach stopped and I stepped out to see what was amiss.  There was Alexander, dismounting his horse and walking toward me to reaffirm for me how much he loves me.  We are to be married on Thursday in three weeks and it is our sincere hope that you, Otis, and Agnes will do us the honour of attending.

I am incandescently happy, Georgiana. 

Yours in Friendship, 

Charlotte

Charlotte returned to Leo, as promised, after her appointment with the modiste and Charlotte and Alexander were once again tucking Leo into bed.  Alexander completed the end of the story as Charlotte sat on the bed with Leo tucked into her side.  

The schoolhouse being deserted soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue and the plowboy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.

“Do you really think Inchabod is dead, father?”  

“Well, I do not know, Leo.  What do you think?”  

“I think he is a Lawyer now, like Uncle Samuel...only in New York, of course.”  

“Of course,” Alexander said, closing the book with a thump and leaning down to kiss his daughter on the head.  Leo slid under the blanket, pulling it over her shoulders.  Alexander stood and banked the fire.   

“And I think that tomorrow, I shall be the Headless Horseman and Uncle Samuel can be my horse!”  She turned to Charlotte.  “And you can be Katrina van Tassel!”  

“Oh, if I must,” Charlotte replied and then leaned down and granted the child her second kiss of the evening. “Goodnight, my sweet girl.”  

“Goodnight mother.  Goodnight father.”  Leo settled into her pillow and closed her eyes as a smile continued to grace her lips.  

“Goonight, Leo,” Alexander said as he put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders to escort her from the room.  

Charlotte quickly realised that she was not only being shuffled from Leo’s room.  She was being shuffled out of Leo’s room, down the hallway, and into another room. 

“Alexander, what are you…” 

Alexander silenced her with voracious, desperate lips.  He had been in her company all evening, with the exception of a handful of moments here or there.  Was it possible that he had missed her more while being in her company than he had in the previous three months?  “This afternoon was some form of sweet torture,” he said as he nuzzled his lips into the space just below her ear.  “When we could not be together and you would draw close, my body would react to your nearness but my feelings were so tempered with grief that I did not find too much difficulty in controlling myself.  But now, ” the word was combined with a groan coming from deep in his throat, “to be so close to you and want you so damn much but with nothing to stop me other than a ‘no’ from you.  I am nearly out of my mind.”

They dove at one another, a tangled mass of various body parts that couldn’t seem to find a position on the other person’s body that was close enough for satisfaction.  They kissed beyond lips, with tongues pressed so deeply that their teeth knocked several times but neither worried if they had left a mark.  Normally a patient person, Charlotte's fingers were astonishingly eager as they reached for the buttons on his waistcoat of their own accord.  She finally managed the lowest button and slid her arms around his back between waistcoat and shirt, digging her fingers to grip the muscles of his back.  It occurred to both of them to stop.  Both let the thought pass without heed.      

“I fear you are waiting for a ‘no’ from me that I am unable to provide,”  She sighed on a heaving breath.  “God this feeling.” 

Her words encouraged him to back her against the door and devour her neck and shoulders.  His departure from her lips left her a moment to open her eyes and absorb the room.  It was a bedroom with two large wardrobes and a poster bed with beautiful maroon brocade draperies, not unlike the study, and a matching bed coverlet. Alexander’s hand travelling from the small of her back, over her buttock and down her thigh to lift her knee to his hip pulled her from her decor examinations and back to the reality of the current situation.  She whimpered as she felt him press his thigh tightly between hers.  The sound sent his hand careening under her dress, searching for the skin above her stocking but finding only the damned drawers he was glad she had been wearing earlier.  Groaning in frustration, he finally pressed his forehead into hers–left hand on her jaw, right still lifting her thigh--bone to bone and flesh to flesh.  He wondered, if they stood this way long enough with hearts beating in tandem and breaths breathing in concert, would she be able to read his thoughts?  If she did, she could know how much he treasured her body as a sacred object–the vessel that carried her sharp mind, her warm heart, and her powerful soul.  He hoped that if she could know those things she would not think less of him for his failure to control himself.  

“I cannot believe that you are mine,” he whispered.  

Charlotte grasped his face to force eye contact.  “I am yours, Alexander.”  She leaned in again to gently kiss him.  “And you are mine.,” she giggled, “from the moment I entered your study, apparently.”  

Alexander beamed in return, finally releasing her and pulling her by the hand to sit on the edge of the bed with him.  “I believe it was, ‘If I had meant that, I would have said so’ that got me initially, but by the time you stormed out and told me I was wasting your time, I was already under your spell.”  

“I did not tell you that you were wasting my time!  I apologised for wasting your time.”  She smirked, “And I do not cast spells.”  

“Oh, do you not?” 

“No! I simply make well-reasoned arguments supported by evidence.”   

“Evidence?”  He reached his wiggling fingers out to tickle her sides, “The evidence, Miss Heywood, seems to indicate that you are rather ticklish!”  

Charlotte nearly howled in delight, falling backward onto the bed as she attempted to defend herself.  Alexander followed her, leaning on one arm and continuing to tickle her with the other.  

“Please.  Alexander!  You must stop.  My stomach hurts.”  

He transitioned his hand from tickling to exploring, sliding it up her side, across her breast and over her chin to her lips.  Charlotte delicately kissed the finger.   

“Is this to be our room?” she asked.  

“If you wish it.  There are four to choose from, in this wing of the house.”  He was still running his finger across every inch of skin he could find.    

Charlotte tilted her head back and laughed.  

“Why is that funny?”  

“Need I remind you that I grew up with 11 brothers and sisters and that we were lucky to have beds at all, let alone a choice of bedroom!”  She reciprocated his gesture by placing her own finger upon his lips.  “I do not care which room we use, Alexander, as long as you share it with me.”  

Unable to resist her further, he pulled her in tightly against him.  He was certain she could feel exactly how ready he was to love her, but she did not seem bothered and whatever thoughts she may have had, she kept them to herself.  “I will share it with you,” he said between kisses, “Every night, mmmmmm , and every morning, and even in afternoons, if we wish.”

Charlotte placed a hand in his hair at the back of his head and pulled him even more tightly into her.  His response was to roll onto his back, taking her with him and placing her completely in control. She was stretched out at length upon him with her forearms on his chest, staring down at him.  She accidentally brushed just the right part of her anatomy against him.  Her eyes grew large and her breath caught as her face dawned a look of confusion before she broke into a wide but befuddled smile.  

“Wha…” 

“Made a discovery there, have you?”  

“I…what was that, exactly?’ 

“That was me.”  

“Well yes, I know it was you but I think it was also… me .”  

Alexander beamed at her with a smile that said, yes, it was .  

“May I…try that again?”  

He continued smiling and nodded. 

Charlotte instinctively closed her eyes as she moved to recreate the sensation.  When she found it she let out a whimper and soon had Alexander’s hand in her hair, pulling her to his mouth.  She moaned into the back of his throat.  

“Oh Charlotte, I want so badly to touch you.”

“I…I think I would like that very much.”  

He finally found the inner strength to place his hands upon her hips, stop her moving, and lift her to the side.  “I cannot,” he said as he rolled and exited the far side of the bed to retreat to the window.  “I will not.”  

“Alexander,” she said calmly, “discuss this with me.  Do not make the decision by yourself.”  

A faint smile of recognition crossed his lips.  “I am sorry.”  He took a deep breath and crossed his arms, leaning against the window seat.  “Alright then.  In all honesty, I wasn’t intending for you to discover what you did this evening and I don’t know how much more of it I can take without my desire to make you my wife overtaking me and that is not fair to you.”    

“I will be the arbiter of what is and is not fair to me.”

“Yes of course.  But do I not also get to decide what I am comfortable with?  I need to go to London for a few things before the wedding.  I will leave with Samuel and Susan on Friday.  Distance will make it easier.”  

“If that is what you want,” Charlotte replied as she approached the window.  She slid her hand into his and quietly added.  “It would not be ruination, Alexander.  Because you love me.”  

“God yes, I do.”  He reeled her in and held her tightly, cherishing her.  After more than a few silent, swaying moments, he pulled back and kissed her forehead.  “Perses tonight?”  

“Yes.  Perses tonight.”     

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

The Leo, Samuel and Charlotte Theatre Company was putting on their latest production, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, for an audience of Alexander, Augusta, Susan, Mrs. Wheatley, and every other servant that Leo managed to recruit with the “tickets” she made.

“Oh, Mr. Crane, you are a fine dancer,” Charlotte batted her eyelashes at Samuel. 

“Why thank you, Miss Van Tassel.  And might I say how lovely you look this evening.”  

“Why thank you Mr. Crane.  But I cannot marry you, Mr. Crane.” Charlotte spoke in a falsely dramatic voice, “As intelligent and dashing as you are, you have no money.”  An embittered Charlotte dropped Samuel’s hands and ran into the arms of a waiting, moustached Leo as Brom Van Brunt.  

Looking dejected, Samuel soon mounted his hobby horse to ride through the “woods” checking this way and that for the spirits of Sleepy Hollow.  Meanwhile, Charlotte and Leo had disappeared behind a dressing screen.  When Leo appeared on her own hobby horse, she was wearing a black robe which she and Charlotte had constructed from a stick frame that made her shoulders appear to be at the level of her head.  Given that it was October, pumpkins were in season and they had carved one earlier in the day, which Leo carried under one arm, managing to throw it at Samuel and hit him squarely in the back after which he shouted  “Alas, I have tumbled into the stream.”  

An elated Leo removed her costume and joined Uncle Samuel in a bow to a roaring audience.  Lady Van Tassel had yet to appear.  

“Charlotte, My Love!  Come and take your bow.”  Alexander called.  The audience’s applause quickly vanished when there was no reply.  Samuel and Alexander looked at one another before simultaneously rushing to the screen only to find that Charlotte had collapsed on the floor behind it.  “Jesus Christ!” Alexander cursed.  “Charlotte!”  He shoved the screen to the side, flatly into Samuel, who deflected it and knelt beside him.  “She is burning up, Sam!  How did you not notice when you were dancing with her!”  He quickly scooped up Charlotte and began barking orders.  “Mrs. Wheatley, retrieve cold water from the spring for the bath, please.  Susan, Augusta, come with me.  You will need to undress her.  Sam,”  

Samuel did not let him finish.  “I’m already on my way!”    

“Georgiana?” Otis questioned her as they sat in the parlour of the Parker Townhouse, Georgiana’s temporary lodgings with Agnes until they could find an appropriate home of their own.  Looking up from the latest edition of the Times , he repeated, “Is everything alright?  Does your letter bring sad news?”  

“No.  Quite the opposite.  Charlotte and Alexander Colbourne are to be married!  She has not gone to Ireland after all.  The wedding is on Thursday the twenty-sixth and we are invited.”  

“Well that is lovely news, indeed.  This is your lawyer’s brother?”  

“Yes.  I was already in his debt for recruiting his brother on my behalf, but now he has saved Charlotte from a life of abject misery.” Georgiana wiped underneath her eye, “Otis, I could not be happier.  Charlotte loves him and those girls so much.”  She walked over and sat in his lap, giving him a small, chaste kiss.  “I shall have my own happy life and so will Charlotte.”

“Well that is wonderful news indeed.  And what will you say in return?”  

“I will share our news, of course!  I shall need to re-write the letter I sent to Ireland!”  Georgiana immediately stood and settled at the writing desk to respond to her dearest friend.      

Charlotte had been stripped of clothing by Augusta and Susan, soaked in a cold saltwater bath prepared by Mrs. Wheatley and the staff until she was nearly blue, then dressed in a nightgown and tucked into bed, where she lay shaking.  Alexander, having excused himself while Charlotte was bathed, was pacing back and forth in front of Heyrick Manor, awaiting Samuel’s return with the good doctor.  He soon saw two horses coming down the drive.  

“Herr Colbourne.” 

“Dr. Fuchs, it is Miss Heywood.  She collapsed with fever.  Follow me.” 

The good doctor spoke as they walked.  “She was caring for Mrs. Parker, I’m afraid.  This fever.  We never can know who will be susceptible to its evil grip and who will not.”   

The mention of Mrs. Parker caused Alexander to remember their dinner.  He made a gesture of recognition, which Samuel caught.  

“I already stopped at the Parker’s,” Samuel reassured him.  “But Mary Parker insisted upon coming to tend to Charlotte.”  

Alexander knocked before entering, “Ladies, the doctor is here.”  

Augusta opened the door.  Charlotte lay lifeless under the covers.  Alexander sprinted to her side, taking her hand.  

“She is cold,” he said in a shaking voice as he touched her hands, arms and face to check the temperature of each.    

“It is fine, sir.” Mrs. Wheatley assured him.  “It is from the bath.  It has reduced her fever, for now.”  

Samuel quietly motioned for Mrs. Wheatley to step into the hall.  “How is she, Mrs Wheatley, really?” 

The gentle woman shook her head.  “You were not here, Mr. Samuel, when Mrs. Colbourne died of fever.  It haunted him for nearly a decade.  If Miss Heywood does not survive, I do not see a path back for him.  I fear it will destroy him.”  

“I won’t let that happen, Mrs. Wheatley.  I am here now.” 

“See that you don’t, Mr. Samuel.”  The woman’s expectations of him were written clearly on her face as she walked away with an armful of towels.     

Inside the room, Alexander stood on one side of the bed, holding Charlotte’s hand, while Dr. Fuchs listened to her heart with some newfangled invention called a stethoscope .  

“Her heart works diligently.  It is neither abnormal nor fast.  That is a good sign.  She is young and strong.  If she survives the fever, she will live. Has she been awake at all, since she collapsed?”     

Alexander looked to the ladies who had been with her.  

“Only momentarily,” Susan responded, “With the shock of cold from the bath.”  

“That is also a good sign.  If her fever spikes further, place her in the bath again.  Other than that, simply pray for a good outcome.  I fear there is nothing I can do for this particular plague that has already claimed too many.  I will come again tomorrow.”

“I will see you out,” Samuel offered.  “Mrs. Parker has kindly offered for you to take the Parker Carriage back to town as she will be staying here.”  

“Come everyone,” Susan began shuffling everyone out of the room, “There is nothing more we can do here.  Let us retire to the parlour.” 

Alexander moved a chair beside the bed and sat with Charlotte’s hand clenched in his, holding the back of her hand to his cheek.  Her lifeless face haunted him.  Visions of Lucy lying so still and cold flashed before him and he fought to push them away.  He tried to remind himself that Charlotte was different.  She was strong.  Do not underestimate Miss Heywood’s resolve , he had told Samuel.  Do not underestimate her now , he told himself.  “Charlotte? Charlotte.  I…I know I was once afraid to be with you but now…now I am afraid to be without you.  You must stay with me, Charlotte.  I love you.  Please.  Stay .”  

“Xander?”  

“What is it, Sam?” He addressed his brother with his voice but not his eyes, which remained firmly fixed upon Charlotte.   

“I have merely come to check on you,” he reached for the younger man’s shoulder.  

“It is not me you should be worried about.”  

“Yes it is.”

“I cannot do it, Sam.  I cannot watch her die.” 

“She is not going to die.  She is strong.  She is not…”  

“It is alright.  You can say it.  She is not like Lucy.  I know.  But you weren’t here for that, so you would not.”  

“It is one of the greatest regrets of my life, Xander, that I was not here to support you.”  

“She is everything , Sam!” Xander’s anger with the situation came roaring out of him.  “Every change that you see here, in me, it is all her.  She is my heart, Sam.  I cannot…I cannot…”  He finally broke down, turned, and willingly collapsed on his brother’s shoulder.  

“It is alright brother.  She will live.  You will see.  She will live.”  

“She is so many things that I cannot be.  She is Augusta’s confidant and Leo’s mother and…Leo!  Has anyone seen her?”

“I do not know.” 

Alexander stepped broadly out of the room, “Leo!”  

Mrs. Wheatley stepped to the bottom of the stairs.  “Sir?” 

“Is Leo with you?” 

“No.  We are wondering the same thing, Sir.  Where might she have gone?”  

“Please ask Mrs. Parker to come and sit with Charlotte.  Sam and I will start upstairs, you ladies begin down.  Leo!”  

Augusta checked the root cellar, one of Leo’s favourite places to hide.  She was not there.  Mrs. Wheatley scoured the servants corridors and kitchen.  They left to check the stables.  Meanwhile, Alexander and Samuel split with Alexander taking the second floor and Samuel the third.  

“Leo!” Alexander’s voice bellowed through the house. 

“Leo!” Samuel’s voice was similarly toned, if friendlier.  

Finally, in the quiet of the attic, Samuel heard a voice.  “Say you surrender sir or we shall have no choice but to destroy your army.”   

He peered around the corner of the schoolroom door to see Leo on the floor with two entire armies of lead soldiers facing one another on the battlefield. The commanders were clearly meeting in the middle under a white flag for the negotiations as one army had outflanked the other.  

“Brilliant child understands flanking manoeuvres,” Samuel said to himself.  “Well, well,” he said out loud, “It seems Napoleon’s forces are right and truly flanked.  NIcely done, Major Colbourne.”  

Leo was quiet in response. 

Samuel joined her on his belly and elbows, staring at the field of soldiers.  “And what was Napoleon’s response to being outflanked?”  

“He did not surrender, and his army was destroyed.”  

“I see.  Well done Britannia.”  Samuel carefully steered the subject to the events of the day.  “I see that your picnic blanket seems to be made of a lovely blue dress.”  

“It was my mother’s dress.  I am laying on it to trap her ghost inside.”  

“Her ghost?” 

“Yes, my mother died of fever when I was just a baby.  And now, her ghost has given it to MIss Heywood because she doesn’t want father to marry her.”  

Samuel sat up and motioned for Leo to climb on his lap.  

“I think perhaps we’ve been reading a bit too much Sleepy Hollow, hmmm?”  He put a knuckle to her nose.  “Did you know that I knew your mother?”  

“You did?” 

“I did.  In fact, I saw her in that very dress.  I met her in London at the same time your father did, and I thought her to be the most beautiful woman I had ever met, but alas, she only had eyes for Xander.”  

“She did?”  

“Oh yes.  They were quite taken with one another from the very beginning.” 

“But, Augusta says that mother did not like Heyrick Park.” 

“Well, that is true.  She loved London, like me.  She did not love the country or the sea and that did sometimes make her life more difficult.  But you know what?” 

Leo looked at him, enraptured.  

“She loved you.  And so does your father, more than anything.”  

Leo smiled. 

“She would be quite happy, I think, to see that you will have a mother in Miss Heywood, and that your father has someone to love.”  

“I don’t want her to die, Uncle Samuel.  She’s not even really my mother yet.”  

Samuel hugged her tightly.  “I know Leo.  I know.”  

“I love you, Uncle Samuel,” she said into his chest.  

“I love you, too, Leo.  Come.  Everyone is looking for you.”  

The skipping Uncle and niece rounded the corner to the second floor staircase only to find Alexander at the bottom.  Samuel began speaking before Alexander could chide her.  

“Leo and I were just discussing Lucy and I was telling her how pleased she would be to know that her daughter is happy and loved.”

Alexander stood for a moment as he digested what Samuel was trying to tell him–that Leo was just as worried as he was.  What would Charlotte do? he asked himself.  Leo did not need chiding.  She needed compassion.  He motioned for Leo to come sit with him on the step.  “Uncle Samuel is right.  She would be very pleased that we have Charlotte here with us.”  

“But Papa, what if she dies? Then I will have lost two mothers.” 

“And I will have lost two wives.”  

“But she is not your wife yet.” 

“Maybe not by the Church, but she is in my heart, just as she is your mother in your heart, and if she died, I would be…” he fought with his voice to get the word out, “... bereft .”   

Leo sighed, “Me too.” 

Augusta and Susan stepped around the corner to the bottom of the stairs.  Alexander put out an arm to invite Augusta into their huddle on the stairs, three abreast, with Alexander in the middle.  An arm around each girl, he kissed each on the hair before they leaned into him and all three allowed their tears to flow.  

Samuel looked over them to Susan at the bottom of the stairs.  

“I love you,” he mouthed silently.  Susan put a palm to her heart.  The air was simultaneously filled with love and sorrow from everyone present.  

“Mr. Colbourne?”  Mary’s voice came from the end of the hallway, “She seems to be stirring.”  

Everyone hurried down the hall.

Charlotte’s body shivered and yet she radiated heat.  She rubbed her head back and forth on the pillow.  Suddenly words escaped.  “No!  No papa.  I won’t marry him.  I love Alexander.”  

Before he even thought about what he was doing, Alexander was in the bed beside her, holding her close and kissing her on the temple, whispering in her ear, “Charlotte, my love, I am right here.  You don’t have to marry him, Charlotte.  You will marry me.  I love you.  Shhh.”  Her shaking began to stop as her breathing calmed, but she was wet through with sweat.  She turned onto her side and curled up in a ball against him, rubbing her forehead into his chest.  The last word she mumbled before returning to her deep sleep was, “Fathomless.”  

Mary Parker stood with her hand to her mouth and tears streaming down her face.  She couldn’t be happier for Charlotte if she were her own daughter.  She said a silent prayer for her to pull through.  

Augusta stood at the foot of the bed next to Samuel.  “Uncle Samuel,” she whispered, “Uncle Alex felt quite warm to me when I hugged him just now.”  Samuel examined Alexander closely.  Sure enough, he could see beads of sweat developing on his brother’s brow and temple.  He looked at Mrs. Wheatley and subtly pointed at Xander, then brushed his own temple.  Mrs. Wheatley returned a look of concern.  Samuel then put his finger to his lips.  

“Mrs. Parker,” he asked, “may I speak with you a moment?”  

“Is it too much to ask for a black couple to wish for a home without holes in the floor boards, rats, and chimneys that work? Georgiana bemoaned as they returned to the Parker Townhouse after a day of visiting potential properties.  

“My lodgings have none of those,” Otis mentioned.  

“Your lodgings are one room with a stove in the corner, Otis.  Hardly an acceptable arrangement for three people.”  

“Or future people,” Agnes added.  

Georgiana gave her mother a sideways glance.  

Agnes donned an innocent look.  “You are getting married in two days, Georgiana.  It is to be expected.”  She then added “Is there a reason that you are insisting upon London, Georgiana?” 

“It is the capital, mother.”

“Yes, but there is quite a movement in Bristol as well.  I think we might have better choices for housing there.”  

“Otis?” Georgiana asked, “What do you think?”  

“I agree with Agnes, that our choices in Bristol might be better, but there is housing available here, if we can manage to find it, and the movement is centred here.  If this is the work we wish to engage in, then this is where we should be.”  

“And it is closer to Sanditon,” Georgiana added.  “I don’t plan to give up the apartment there so that we can go to visit whenever we like.”

“Well we will keep looking,” Agnes offered.  “In the meantime, after your wedding on Saturday, I will return to Bristol to collect my belongings and give you some honeymoon time.”  

“Mother, you do not need to leave.  There are plenty of rooms here and we can have your things sent from Bristol.  I don’t like the idea of you travelling alone.” 

“Nah, my dear.  You don need me here while you be kickin up de Rumpus!”  Her use of the Caribbean expression sent a flush immediately to the cheeks of both the betrothed, who could not help but look at one another in excitement through their embarrassment.  “You deserve to be together with the one you love, Georgiana, without interruption from me.  I will go to Bristol to finish my business there and then return to look for employment here.  You will go to Sanditon for Miss Heywood’s wedding and we will meet back here in one month.”  

“Mama, I have told you already that you’ve no need to work.  We have an income from father’s inheritance.  We will be working to write our story for the papers.”  

“We can discuss it when you return.  For now, you need your beauty rest, yes?  Don’t want you to look haggard on your wedding day.  Goodnight Otis.”    

“Goodnight Agnes.” 

As Agnes retreated up the stairs, Georgiana turned to her love.  “I am sorry if she embarrassed you.” 

“I am not embarrassed that you will be my wife, Georgiana.  I could not be prouder.”  

“No, I meant the…” 

“Kickin’ up the Rumpus?”  Otis had more courage to use the expression than Georgiana did.  

“Yes.” 

Otis lifted her chin and kissed her gently.  “I look forward to a lifetime of Kickin’ up the Rumpus with you, my dear.”  He smiled, turned, and left for his own lodgings.    

With Leo safely dispatched to the care of the Parkers for the evening, Samuel greeted Susan and Augusta as they descended the stairs.  

“They are both sleeping,” Susan informed him. 

“Dammit.  I needed to speak to Xander.”  He sighed and tamped his frustration.  “I apologise for my language, Augusta, do you know where your Uncle keeps his important paperwork?”  

“You are looking for his will, aren’t you?”  

Samuel nodded.  

“I know where he keeps the papers for the estate, perhaps it is with those.”  She led them to the study, to the drawer in the bottom of the bookcase behind the desk.  It was locked, of course.  “I shall gather the key from Mrs. Wheatley.”  

Samuel plopped into the chair.  It was only six o’clock, but daylight was fading and he was tired.  Rather than sit in the opposite chair, Susan curled up in front of him by the fire, leaning against his knee.  Samuel put a hand in her hair.  

“Are you yet regretting your decision to return?”  

“Whatever happens, my dear Samuel, I will be right here.  You will not do this alone.”  

“Even if it means that you are suddenly a mother?”  

“It will not come to that.  You will see.  They finally have a chance for happiness.  Neither of them will let go easily.” 

“I do hope you are right.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Charlotte was dreaming of floating in the sea.  She had drifted beyond the break and felt the soft undulating of the waves beneath her.  The sun warmed her in a blinding white light as she floated further and further from shore.  Nothing, she felt, is quite as peaceful as the sea on a warm summer’s day.  

A thought suddenly disrupted her peace.  Was she too far from shore?   She panicked and began to tread water.  The waves got larger, intermittently blocking her view of the beach.  The current out to sea was carrying her.  Then, just over the peak of a large swell she saw the top of Alexander’s silver hat as he sat tall upon Hannibal, calling to her from the water’s edge.  She began to swim, kicking and flailing and then…darkness.

Where was she?  Was she underwater?  Charlotte’s body felt as though it was under sacks of grain, her limbs heavy, her chest tight.  Her neck ached when she tried to move it.  Her head was enveloped in fog like the cliffs on a misty day.  The cliffs!  Yes, the cliffs.  She loved the cliffs.  Alexander was on the cliffs.  Her mind may have been playing tricks on her, but her sense of smell was intact and the scent that entered her nostrils was unmistakable.  Sandalwood.  Hay.  Cotton.  Leather.  Alexander . 

She heard voices.  

“When did Herr Colbourne show signs of illness?”  

Dr. Fuchs. 

“Last evening just before dinner.”  

Samuel.

No. Alexander was not sick.  She was sick.  Alexander could not be sick.  The girls.  The girls needed him. 

“He has been in and out of consciousness.”

Still Samuel.  

Alexander.  She needed to hear Alexander.  

She stirred.  “Alexander?”  

“Charlotte?”  Susan’s voice came from her right.  No.  She did not want Susan.  She followed the smell to her left.  It strengthened and through the fog she felt full, and lighter, and suddenly content.  She rolled her body toward him and found his shoulder and chest.  She nestled into it.  

“I love you,” She mumbled.  “Stay.  Make a life with me.”  

***

The moon rose above the eastern window sill and shone a bright beam upon Alexander’s face.  It caused him to squint his eyelids and turn his head away from the disturbance and into Charlotte's hair. 

He had dreamed of Charlotte more times than he could count, but never had she felt so real.  He’d never been able to smell her before.  It was divine.  He did not wish to wake.  The convulsions of his chest as he began to cough left him no choice.  

He heard his brother’s voice. “Susan, move her off.  His fever is spiking again.”  And suddenly, Charlotte was not there anymore.  

Alexander was cold.  His body shook violently, completely out of his control. He spoke through chattering teeth.  “No!  No, don’t take her.  Please, God, don’t take her.  I need her.  I cannot.  I cannot.”  

Rolling on his side, he grasped at the air until making contact and pulled her into him.  

They shook in tandem, bathed in moonlight.  

***

“How are they?” Samuel asked as Susan entered the study, handing him a glass of scotch.  

“The most recent bout of fever seems to have passed.  I thought you might wish for something stronger than port,” Susan replied as she embraced him from behind the chair.    

“Where on earth did you find it?  I have been looking for scotch in this house for weeks!”  

“How does one obtain anything at Heyrick Park?”  She smiled.  

“Mrs. Wheatley,” they said simultaneously and laughed before Samuel turned his face over his shoulder to meet her lips.  Susan rubbed his shoulders in silence.  The meaning of the silence was clear to both of them.  Each was wondering what the future, specifically the next one or two days, held for them.  The burden of it hung in the air.  

“They have made it two days,” Susan finally said.

“And still shaking with fever,” Samuel’s voice was exhausted in reply as he took his second gulp of the golden liquid.      

Susan leaned over him again, “What have you found in the documents?”  

“Well, Alexander has never hired a steward.  In the beginning I assume that was because the estate was in such financial disarray that he did not want to spend the money on a steward’s salary.  But now, Heyrick Farms is quite a profitable enterprise.  There is the dairy farm as well as the grain and vegetables.  He could have hired a steward at least four years ago by the numbers.  My guess now is that he simply enjoys doing the work himself.” 

“I do not know him well, but I can imagine that of your brother.” 

“His records are impeccable, not that I would have expected less. According to his notes from last week, they are currently bringing in apples and gourds and completing the threshing of the wheat and oats that were cut last month.  Apparently, four years ago, he took a loan and purchased a thresher.  According to his notes this ‘marvel’ frees his workers from flailing and allows them to cradle the wheat instead.  They have increased the acreage of Heyrick park used for grain production from 150 acres to 300 and their yield of grain has increased five-fold, and the herd along with it.  It is remarkable, Susan.  He really has turned this place around.  Not just around but moved it forward.  I daresay I am a bit proud of my little brother at the moment.”  

“You wear that well, too.”  

“Apparently, he was due to make rounds tomorrow.”  

“Will you make them?”  

“No!  I couldn’t tell an oat stalk from a wheat stalk if my life depended upon it, though I suppose I can tell an apple from a gourd,” he joked.  “No, I will ask Mrs. Wheatley whom I can send to get word to the farmers of Alexander’s illness.”  

“Will you keep vigil with me tonight.”  

“I need some more time with all of this,” he motioned to the paperwork splayed across the desk.  “I’ll be up in a bit.”  

“Alright.  Goodnight.”  Susan kissed him on the cheek.  As she slid her hand from his shoulder down his arm, he stretched to prolong the contact until only their fingertips were touching.  For a brief moment, he hooked the final knuckle of his fingers tightly around hers until finally their hands separated and she walked away. 

***

“Mister Colbourne,” Mrs. Wheatley addressed Samuel as he slept with his face on the desk among Alexander’s papers.  “Sir,” she repeated, closer in order to wake him.  

Samuel slowly placed his palms on the desk and rose.  “Yes, Mrs. Wheatley?”  He had lines across his face in the shape of the corner of a paper.   

“The Reverend Hankins and Miss Hankins are here sir, with a guest, to offer prayer and comfort for the family.” 

“Did you show them in?” 

“No, sir.  They are at the door.  I believe you will want to greet them yourself.”  

Uncertain as to why, Samuel nonetheless followed her instructions, tying his cravat and pulling his waistcoat from the chair to don and button it quickly.  Stepping from the study into the foyer, he understood immediately why Mrs. Wheatley had awakened him.  

“Get the hell out of this house!” he roared at Edward Denham, who was behind the Hankins.  

Taken aback, the good reverend said, “Ah, Sir Edward is my protegé, studying to be parson at the Denham Chapel.  He is merely here to observe my offering of last rites.”  

Samuel’s incredulity knew no bounds.  “You cannot be serious.  Edward Denham, a clergyman!”  He did not know whether to laugh or be furious on behalf of the people of Sanditon.  “I don’t care what he is, or who he is, he is not to enter this house or any part of this property without Alexander’s express consent.  Now, you may either enter without him or all three of you may leave.”  

Augusta rushed down the steps and into the foyer.  Edward looked up and caught her eye.  She scowled, but did not run away.    

Showing a suspicious amount of humility, Edward said, “My dear Mr. Hankins, I can see that my presence here will only cause further grief to this already grieving family.  I shall return to the church and offer my prayers for them from there.  Good day, Mr. Colbourne, Miss Markham,” he bowed to each and turned to depart.  

Samuel gathered himself.  “They are upstairs.  You may pray for them, of course, but they are not dying and you will not offer last rites at this time.”  

He led them upstairs, offering his own prayer that Mrs. Wheatley and Susan had had the foresight to separate the lovers from their intertwined position.  When he entered, Alexander and Charlotte were each on their own side of the bed.  Alexander’s cravat had been tied and he recognized Susan’s robe on Charlotte.  They were both propped up by pillows, but their hands remained joined in the middle.  

“Oh my, what is this?”  Reverend Hankins seemed perturbed.  

“They refuse to be separated,” Susan replied, trying to hide how adorable she thought they were.  

“I would not have expected such behaviour from Miss Heywood,” Rev. Hankins responded.  

No one was quite sure what to say, other than to let the good Reverend know that if he did not approve, he was free to leave.  Luckily, Beatrice Hankins stepped in with a word to her brother.  

“Brother, Miss Heywood and Mr. Colbourne are to be married as you know, and my understanding is that they have been in love for quite some time.  Perhaps, both being very ill, they were feeling cheated by their circumstances and feeling they would never get to marry.  Perhaps, they simply want to be in one another’s presence at the end of their lives.” 

Everyone in the room passed thankful looks among themselves and to Miss. Hankins’ for her truthful intervention. 

“Yes, well then,” the Reverend opened his book, still appearing disgruntled, “let us pray.” Everyone bowed their heads.  “Almighty Father, to you alone belong the issues of life and death.  We beseech thee, Oh Lord, that you look with eyes of mercy upon these, your children, in their hour of need.  We ask, if it be your pleasure Lord, that you grant them the strength to continue on this Earthly plane; or if that not be your will, that you receive their souls to your home of eternal peace and perpetual rest.  Grant this, Oh Lord, in the name of thy Son Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost as One God forever.  Amen.”  

“Amen.” was heard around the room.  

“I shall continue on this Earthly plane, thank you,” Alexander mumbled and then coughed.  

“Xander?”  Samuel knelt beside his brother, who groggily wobbled his head and opened his eyes.  He took in the room and not seeing Charlotte realised that she was still in bed beside him.  He released his hand from hers and moved it over her mouth and nose to feel her breath and then rested it on her chest to ensure her breathing and heartbeat. Relieved, he took her hand again,  

“Has she been awake?” his voice croaked as he asked Samuel the question.  

“Not consciously, but she tosses and turns and speaks to you in her sleep.”  

Still tired and a bit dizzy, Alexander allowed his eyes to close with a smile on his face.

“It seems no matter how many times we separate you, you always find your way back to one another, even in a fever,” Susan no longer attempted to hide her smile. 

“Well then, you should have learned the lesson by now not to separate us.”  He smirked even with his eyes closed.  “We shall never be separated again.  It seems you have had a wasted trip, Reverend.  Neither of us will be dying today.”  He coughed again and then looked at Samuel, inquiring after his daughter.  “Leo?”    

“She is with Mrs. Parker and the children.  Dr. Fuchs is due to arrive this afternoon to check on both of you.”

Alexander allowed his eyes to rest and shifted to a different position on his back, forcing another cough.  “Thank You, everyone.  Might I ask for privacy, please.”  

“Of course.  Rest, brother.  We will not wake you until Dr. Fuchs arrives.”  

The moment they were gone, he used every ounce of energy he had to roll onto his side, wrap his arm around Charlotte’s waist, and pull her to face him.  Placing his own face on the pillow a hair’s breadth from hers, he whispered, “Charlotte, My Love, wake up.  The sickness has passed and I am waiting for you.”  He moved his palm to her cheek and stroked her face with his thumb, kissing her nose gently.  “Please Charlotte.  Come and make a life with me, remember?  We’ve a school to build and a family to make.  Wake up, My Love.”  Receiving no reaction, he finally placed his lips gently on hers in stillness and in doing so felt his own life returning.  When that also received no reaction, he brushed his lips back and forth upon hers, opening his jaw and sucking in her bottom lip momentarily.  Finally, he felt her pucker against him in reaction and his kiss immediately turned to a smile and a laugh of relief.  “Charlotte?”  

“Alexander?” her voice was dry as sand.  

He brushed his lips to hers again.  “Charlotte.”  

“Don’t leave me.” 

“Never, My Love.  Never.”  

***

Having checked their hearts, whacked them both on the back a few times to hear them cough, and watched them sit and drink, Dr. Fuchs officially declared Charlotte and Alexander to be on the mend.  

“You must rest for two more days to ensure your full strength and then I prescribe daily walks along the seaside, for not more than an hour or so, for one week to rebuild your strength.”  

Alexander was grinning from ear to ear, but he was not speaking.  Charlotte looked at him, puzzled.  

Samuel chimed in, “They will do as you have ordered, doctor.  Thank you very much.  Please, come to the study so that I may offer you your fee.”  

“Can I get you anything before I go?” Susan asked. 

“Perhaps you can tell me why my future husband is grinning like a mule eating briars,” Charlotte replied.    

“That is simple, my dear.  The good doctor just ordered him to spend two days in bed with you,” Susan flashed a knowing smile at Alexander.    

“Oh,” Charlotte peered sideways at her betrothed and began grinning as well.  

“I will bring you lunch when it is served,” Susan offered as she exited.  “Don’t get into too much trouble,” she teased as she closed the door.  

Alexander reached out for Charlotte’s hand.  “Welcome back.” 

“Thank you.  Welcome back to you as well, although I am not sure I was conscious of your departure.”

“I was conscious of yours!  Rarely have I been so frightened as when you did not answer me from behind that screen.”  

“Behind the screen?” 

“Yes!  You collapsed at the end of the play.  Do you not remember?”  

Charlotte searched her memory.  It was all foggy.  “Oh dear.  I must apologise to Leo.”  

“You will do no such thing.  You must have known you were not feeling well by that point!  You should have been resting, not making costumes and putting on a play!”  

“I just wanted Leo to be happy.”

“Not at the expense of your own health!”  Alexander let out a breath that puffed his cheeks, followed by a cough.  The cough was enough to temper his anger.  “I fear when you are with child I shall have to tie you to the chair.”   He put out his arm for her to snuggle in against him. 

“My mother milked the goats on the mornings she had several of her children.  My youngest brother John was practically born in the wheatfield.”   

Exasperated, Alexander gave up on any argument for now.  He kissed her head and sent his thankfulness into the universe with a sigh into her hair.  

Charlotte snuggled closer.  “ Mmmmm .  I have already told you this, but I like it very much when you kiss my head.”

He repeated the gesture.  “I will kiss more than that, if we’ve the energy.”  

HIs words were the spark she needed to push against his chest and raise her lips to his.  Neither of them had the energy to devour one another.  This kiss was not of passion but of gratefulness.  Alexander pushed his tongue into hers but rather than return the gesture, her own tongue retreated, allowing his to enter her mouth fully to explore every feature and crevice–her teeth, her cheeks, the little flap of skin that connects lips to gums.  Then his tongue retreated and she did the same.  Following multiple rounds of trading these intimate gestures, Alexander spoke. 

“I want to know every inch of you as well as I know your mouth,” he said, in a voice that sent an entirely different kind of fever through her body.  

Charlotte put her finger to his lips.  “I want to know every inch of you, too,” she said quietly, as if it were something she should not say.  

Alexander closed the gap between them gently, “You will, My Love.”  He pulled her into him tightly and she found a comfortable spot where his chest met his shoulder. 

“What will it feel like?” 

Alexander made a small noise in wonder at her.  “I am not sure what it will feel like for you.  Perhaps that would be a better question for Susan.”  He wasn’t trying to reject her.  He genuinely had no idea what to say.  Charlotte ran her fingers gently up and down his arm.  

“Well what does it feel like for you?”  

He tried very hard to gather his thoughts and genuinely answer her question.  “Well, let me see what I can remember.  It has been a decade you know.”    

“Has it?” 

“Yes.”  He was silent as he ran his own fingers up and down her back and arm, and fiddled with the ringlets in her hair.  “I am sorry if you feel I am not answering your question.  I’ve never had to describe it before.”  

Charlotte waited patiently.  

“It is a remarkably simple act really, no more difficult than sliding your coat on your arm or your glove on your hand.  But it carries with it an infinite number of meanings for the two people involved. It can be warm and wet and lustful.  It can be sweet and gentle.”  He smirked, “It can change from the latter to the former very quickly.”

“Yes,” Charlotte agreed.  She’d already experienced some of that.   

Alexander’s voice grew more distant.  “It can be mechanical, neither person caring about how the other feels, worried only about the desired results.”  He paused before continuing.  “Sometimes it is an act of desperation–a final attempt to find something in common.  But with you…”  

Charlotte lifted her head to look at him and he brushed the hair from her face.  

“With you, I imagine it will feel like coming home.”  

Charlotte leaned in to meet his lips gently before returning her head to its previous position.  “This is my home,” she assured him and nestled her head a bit more, “right here.”  

Alexander cradled her head into him and they placed their free hands palm to palm, then interlaced their fingers. She slid his signet up and down his pinky.  

“Where did this come from?”  

“My father.  My grandfather before him.” 

“That is nice.” 

“Sometimes.  It is not so nice when I think of how much work I’ve had to do to put Heyrick Park back in order.  Speaking of which, I have no idea what day it is.  If it is Monday, I am due to make rounds today.  I need to be sure that the thresher belt hasn’t broken again.”  

Charlotte sat bolt upright.  “You have a thresher!”  Her eyes were as wide as a child at the fair. 

“Yes.  Have had for the last four years.  Honestly, I’m not sure how we functioned without it” 

“No one in Willingden owns one yet.  They are far too expensive.  May I come on rounds with you?  You must show me!”  

Alexander shook his head at her in wonder.  “Two days ago you were at death's door and now you want to go and see the thresher?  Do you feel well enough?” 

“If you are well enough then I am well enough!”  Charlotte pushed the covers off and stood beside the bed, only to become light headed and sit back down.  

“Hey, hey.  Easy now.  You have not been on your feet in days and you’ve not eaten.  I said I was due to make rounds today, not that I was actually going to do them.”  Alexander got dizzy himself, moving too quickly to ensure she did not fall.  “I don’t think I am up to riding and neither are you, and we cannot do rounds on foot.”  He leaned back again on the pillows.  “Besides, Dr. Fuchs says we are to rest for two more days,” he donned a feigned look of innocence.    

Charlotte played along.  “Oh yes, well, what shall we do with our time?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

***

Susan entered the study to find Samuel returning Alexander’s papers to the appropriate drawer.  She stepped across the threshold and gently closed the door with her back, discreetly turning the key.  Her actions did not go unnoticed by Samuel who shut the drawer and proceeded to the window seats, one then the other, indiscreetly closing the shutters.

“Closing the shutters seems rather a presumption,” Susan teased.  

“So does locking the door,” Samuel replied.  

“Everyone is well,” Susan continued as she sauntered toward him. 

“We do not have to be parents,” Samuel’s voice was both enticement and relief.  

“We can go about our lives,” Susan’s was relief and desire. As their bodies slammed into one another, Samuel’s lips were immediately at her neck.  

“Chair, floor or desk?” he asked.  

“Must I choose only one?”  

Samuel cocked his head to the side and grinned at her with an expression of unbridled hunger so strong that it sent her backing toward the door.  He unbuttoned his waistcoat and threw it to the side.  Susan unbuttoned her spencer but did not get to remove it before Samuel had his hands on it, sliding it down her arms.  Already backed against the door she was now pinned, arms trapped in the garment above her head, She parted her lips to receive his but he did not grant them, choosing instead to speak.  He allowed his moistened lips to brush hers only slightly as the words seemed to emanate from some otherworldly place. 

“Have you ever experienced a lust so strong in its demands that you simply cannot disobey it?”  His piercing eyes shone with a devilish pride, daring her to defy him, daring her to try to take control.  

She did not want to.  

He lifted her skirts, quick to his work.  He wasn’t gentle.  His fingers were already inside, gathering the dampness required to complete their task.  Susan let out a moan, higher pitched than she would have liked and he finally covered her mouth with his to swallow her voice.  

They had been together only thrice, but Samuel was beginning to know her signals, and when he felt her rhythms change he withdrew his ministrations.  The look of how dare you on her face nearly broke his concentration.  He released her arms and finished removing the spencer, immediately pulling her in as tightly as he could manage. Susan attempted to slide her hands from his back to his front. 

“You are still buttoned, sir.”  

He grabbed her wrists, tightly, as she reached for the two shiny items keeping her from the object of her desire.  

“Samuel.  I need to…” 

He kissed her, hard, with a hand so tight to the back of her head that their cheekbones turned red from the contact.  “You need what?”  he asked, knowing perfectly well the answer.  

She glared at him with a look that was at once annoyance and lust, but the latter quickly overtook her.  He moved her along the bookcase to the ladder in the corner.  The hard edges of the rungs pressed firmly into the backs of her legs and she wondered only for a moment what on earth he was planning before she realised that she didn’t care.  She thought she would do anything he asked right then.  

“Up you go,” he lifted his chin as he spoke the order.  

“I do not think ladders were included in the list,” her words disobeyed while her body minded his direction.  His hands were seeking.  For what she couldn’t be sure, but she could feel the pressure of each finger sliding up and down the satin of her dress, forcing her to wish she wasn’t wearing it.    

“Up.”  

She rose another rung, wrapping the heel of her boot over it to latch herself into position.  As he breathed into her abdomen, the warmth of his heaving breaths was perceptible even through satin and corset.  The firmness of his fingers now travelled over her bottom to her thighs, gathering fabric on their way until he slid his hand past her exposed knee to renew the attentions he had given her by the door.  The moan she released when he slid his fingers inside again was louder than it should have been.  He did not admonish her, instead walking the fingers of his left hand up her abdomen and breasts to land his thumb in her mouth.  She sucked it hard, causing him to probe her more deeply, which in turn caused her to bite down.

“Ow.” 

“Your fault,” It was more of a whimper than a statement of blame.   

“Up,” 

She obeyed, sitting on the platform that was a few rungs up the ladder.  

For Samuel, The ivory skin peeking out from above her silk stockings was as irresistible as a cool spring on a hot summer's day.  He knelt to place his lips there, at that point where leg and pelvis meet.  Susan moved her skirts still further out of his way as he moved yet higher and finally gave her what she so desperately wanted.

Samuel’s lust subsided momentarily in favour of contemplation.  She was astounding in every way.  Obedient without an ounce of submissiveness, enjoying every moment as he was.  That this woman - this woman who had lain with kings - could love him was beyond his comprehension.  And yet, here they were, in the library of his childhood home, so gloriously salacious that she was on a ladder with her skirts hiked up and his tongue and lips planted firmly in the exact spot of her desire.   

Her legs began to shake.  She wrapped the heel of both boots around a rung, forcefully pushing against it to still her shuddering.  The tension of doing so rose through her body and threatened to retreat out her mouth in a sound much too loud for morning in a very awake Heyrick Park.  She began grasping for any object around her that might fit into her mouth, finally finding a thin volume with a leather binding.  Book in mouth, she grabbed the rungs behind her head for stability.  The heel of her boot broke.  Her right leg flew into the air, shaking with nothing to push against.  Samuel gathered her legs over his shoulders, sucking harder, probing deeper and sending her across the edge of oblivion. 

“That was quite lovely, I must say,” Susan said as she came to her senses and Samuel rose to stand at his full height in front of her.  She leaned down only slightly to kiss him, finding the taste of her own desire upon his lips rather intoxicating.  

“Thank you,” Samuel said between kisses, “For staying by my side through this and being prepared to continue doing so, even though it would have been a very different life than what you thought when you decided to stay.” 

“Well if this is how you say thank you, I shall have to do nice things for you more often.  Speaking of being parents,” she said as he finally allowed her to unfasten the buttons on his trousers, “this encounter was unexpected and I am not currently wearing a vinegar sponge, so…” She deliberately lowered herself from the ladder, keeping her eyes locked on his.  

“So you need me to be sure not to…”  

She cut him off with a kiss and placed her hands squarely on his shoulders, swapping places with him.  “So, up you go.”

His piercing eyes grew large.  “I would not deign to ask such a thing of a lady!”  It took Susan a moment to realise that he was sincere. 

“You are not asking.  Up,” she ordered as she took him in hand.  “I am offering.”  

“Then I would not deign to accept!” he barely got the words out as pleasure overtook him.

“Have you ever experienced a lust so strong in its demands that you simply cannot disobey it?” She asked, partially mocking and partially in earnest.  She began to do to him with her lips and tongue exactly what he had just done to her.  

“Dear God,” he nearly missed the rung as he obeyed her order to climb.    

As Samuel’s mind disappeared, Susan’s turned to contemplation.  She’d not been this close to him yet with her eyes.  He was very handsome, every last inch of him hardened to a deep rose that was nearly purple at the tip.  She sucked that tip with a hard pucker.  

“Oh!” he yelled far too loudly for the circumstances.  Susan reached behind him on the platform and held up the small book she had used.  “Very fun…very fun…” he struggled in vain to get the word funny to exit his mouth. “Fun… eee..Ah..ee !  Susan.  Susan, please, I must…I am going to…”  He fumbled to find a place for his hands that was not in her hair, not wanting to mess with the locks he was certain she had spent a good deal of time placing.  He finally grabbed the platform, his knuckles turning white.  She now had him in hand and in mouth, every so often allowing her teeth to graze him just enough to send him shuddering with delight.  “Susan, are you sure?  In fairly short order I’m not going to be able to stop.”  She persisted.  He surrendered, finally unlocking his inhibitions until he convulsed, managing to fold his lips over his teeth and bite down hard enough to silence himself.  

As stillness returned to him, he felt Susan swallow and remorse flew through him like a child caught stealing from the tithing basket at church.  He immediately reached in his pocket for his handkerchief and handed it to her.  He stood, buttoned himself quickly, and did the only thing he could think of…hand her a glass of port.  

“Thank you,” she said as she took a large sip and held it in her mouth before swallowing.  

Samuel, never more sated nor contrite, was wordless.  She was very, very good at that. Too good, really. He fought tooth and nail to keep his thoughts at bay but they kept rushing into his head like waves at peak tide. Did …His Majesty…make her do that?  Was it an expectation of her keeping? What else did he insist upon? Suddenly, Samuel found himself fierce with indignation on her behalf. The thought of Susan—ebullient, beautiful, wonderful Susan being treated like a common…like a common…

He spoke to stop his mind from running where it should not.  “Why did you do that?” He finally asked, sitting in the desk chair and inviting her into his lap. 

“I wanted to.  You gave me an exceedingly exquisite release, Samuel” she leaned in to give him a kiss of thanks.  “Returning the favour seemed an appropriate response.  And as I said, I was not prepared to do otherwise.”

Samuel sat quietly for a moment to be sure he had the right words.  “Susan, it is important to me  that you never feel as though you must do anything you do not wish to–that it is somehow a requirement of my love.  I fell in love with you because I adore your company.  The fact that we have turned out to be so compatible is rather icing on the cake, as it were.  I would be ashamed to think that I had treated you as less than the lady that you are.”

“My skills surprised you, I see.”

“Yes,” he replied honestly. 

“There you go again, somehow thinking that I am inherently grand.  I have been with two men in my life, Samuel, neither of whom was particularly kind and both of whom made demands of me that I did not always enjoy.”  

“Careful.  You shall drive me to regicide,” he smirked.  

She smiled in return and shook her head at him, “But for the first time in my life I get to be with a man who puts my happiness first.  That is a gift, Samuel Colbourne.”  She used her fingers to straighten his hair and smiled as she kissed him.  “And I enjoyed showing my appreciation.”    Samuel’s hands began to search again, this time reaching for the clasps of her dress. “Again?” 

Samuel lifted her onto the desk.  “Not for me…”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

It was the middle of the night.  The moon, nearly full, was bright.  Charlotte and Alexander were in that phase of recovery when, after sleeping for days, wakefulness seemed to fill many odd hours.  They talked of anything and everything – horses, dogs, the girls, the names and ages of all Charlotte’s brothers and sisters which Alexander failed to memorise, their first trips to London, the ridiculous notion of Samuel becoming a farmer and Susan a farmer’s wife – everything.  

“Do you want me to call you Xander,” Charlotte asked, “like Samuel does?”

“Not particularly.  It is my childhood name.  The only people who call me that are Sam and Eleanor Wheatley.”  

“Eleanor?” 

“Yes.  Eleanor.  But don’t tell her that I told you.”  

Charlotte made a key locking motion on her lips and tossed the key over her shoulder.  “And how long have you known Eleanor?”  

“The more accurate question is ‘how long has Eleanor known me?’  The answer is, ‘for my entire life.’  Eleanor Wheatley has worked on this estate since she was fourteen years of age.  In all honesty, she is the closest thing to a mother that I have.  My mother died giving me life.”  

“Does your mother’s portrait hang anywhere? I should like to see it.”  

“No.  My father was too careless with money to bother commissioning a portrait before she died.”

“Is that why you have the portrait of Lucy hanging?  For Leo?” 

“Yes.  I commissioned it just after we were married, while we were still in London.”

Charlotte closed the gap between them.  “You are a wonderful father, Alexander.  Do not doubt yourself.” 

“I will do so less often, now that you are here to help me.”  They lay for a bit in silence as Xander ran his finger lightly up and down her forearm from palm to elbow.  “But” he continued, “Mrs. Wheatley only ever uses my childhood name in private, and even then only when she is cross or concerned, so I believe I would prefer you to call me Alexander.” 

“And what shall I call you when I am cross?”  Charlotte teased.  

“I would like to say that I will never give you cause to be so, but given that you were cross with me as your employer, it is surely unrealistic to think you will not be cross with me as your husband.  Still, I shall endeavour not to give you reason.”

“I was not cross.”  

“Hmmm, let me see.  Do the words ‘You told me I am not here to educate you, but there is much you have to learn’ ring a bell?”      

“Fine.  I was cross, but in my defence…” 

“I deserved it.” 

She smiled at him, gave him a quick peck and then rolled onto her back, allowing her arms to rest on her stomach and her eyelids to close.  

Alexander stared at her quietly in the moonlight.  Her skin was so pale that it seemed to glow, even more than the white linen fabric of her nightgown.  He longed to reach out and touch her–to let his fingers explore her skin as reverently as his tongue had explored her mouth yesterday.   

“I can feel your eyes on me.  What are you thinking?” 

Certain now that she was not returning to sleep, Alexander resumed walking his fingers up and down her arm, this time for the full length. “I was thinking things that only a husband should think.”  

“Oh?” she rolled onto her stomach, propping herself on her elbows. “Do tell.”  

“You are not my wife yet.”

“Alexander Colbourne,  I have been in love with you since the day you handed me those cornflowers, though I may not have known it at the time, and we have been through just a few trials since then,” sarcasm laced her voice. “So I may not be your wife by the Church, but surely I have earned your trust enough for you to tell me what you are thinking!”  

“Cornflowers?  If you did not know you loved me during our picnic, when did you know?”  He continued attempting to divert her.  She was not falling for it.   

“You have been spending too much time with your lawyer brother, trying to divert my question by asking one of me!”  

Alexander changed tactics to a silent stare instead.  

Charlotte tried to stare him down but soon realised she did not want to.  She could get lost in his eyes forever.  She reached up to tuck in his errant curls and was tender in her response.  “When we were dancing at the ball, and you said ‘all of us’ I knew that you were including yourself. And when you said you would be bereft, I realised that I would be as well.  It was why I had to excuse myself so abruptly after we danced.  I am embarrassed to admit that I was a bit overcome.”  

Alexander donned a look of pride, “Well then, I guess my hours of practising my little speech that day had the desired effect.”

“They did,” she smiled and added, “When I saw you again at Georgiana’s ball it reminded me of that night and I thought my heart might leap from my chest.”  

“Yes.” He confirmed that the same was true for him.  He could not resist any longer. He placed his hands under her arms and pulled her elbows up onto his chest.  With hands quickly assuming positions on both sides of her face, he scooped his lip across her bottom one and grazed his tongue against hers.  He wanted her as badly as he ever had.

“I was imagining what you would look like naked in the moonlight,” he whispered.  

Charlotte responded by pulling the strings holding the neckline of her nightgown.  When his hand travelled over her shoulder, the gown went with it.   He dove at the opportunity to have his lips upon skin they had never graced.  Charlotte found herself surviving on instinct.  She’d no idea what she was doing, but she knew where she wanted his lips and was determined to help him put them there.  “Well you could undress me and find out.” She tried not to sound shy as she grabbed the front of his shirt and insisted that he sit up with her.  Gravity helped to release the neckline of the garment so that both her shoulders were bare and she had both hands free to guide his head to the crevice between her breasts.  Now fully sitting, she moved to straddle him.

Charlotte Heywood had always been good at maintaining an image of control, if not the control itself.  There had been but a few times when she was unable to contain her emotions or temper. Interestingly, the two times she had lost her control most egregiously were at Sidney and Alexander, both having angered her to the point that she lost her temper. And then there was Alexander’s first proposal and her shouting of “Then why didn’t you?”  She did not regret that one at all.  When she straddled him, Alexander firmly cupped both her breasts, kneading their flesh against his lips, and she lost every bit of control she thought she had. 

She let out a noise that she could not have described. Was it a sigh? A moan? A squeak? She thought she heard him laughing. Had she done something wrong? She could not be sure unless he looked at her, but that would mean stopping what he was doing and she did not want him to stop…for any reason.   

As if he was reading her thoughts, he rested his forehead into her sternum and said quietly, “Charlotte, we must stop.”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered in reply. “Life is too precious and I want to be your wife.”  

“There is nothing I want more than to be your husband immediately, but you are far too precious for that to happen.”

“You said it was a simple act.”

“The act itself is simple, but everything that surrounds it is not. Trust me when I tell you that once we have experienced it together we are not going to want to stop–at least not for a while.  And it would be better if no one is home for a few days.”

“Well, what you are doing now is nothing short of glorious. Surely it doesn’t get that much better, that it would take days?”

Alexander chuckled and reached up with his thumbs to rub the cloth of her nightgown against her nipples.  She gasped in surprise.  

“I promise you that it does.”  He leaned in, sucking and offering a small bite through the fabric.  Charlotte whimpered.  Alexander attempted to keep his cool.  This was not about coveting her; it was about teaching her a lesson.  “Lie back,” he requested, and then helped her by placing his arms around her back, kissing her, and rolling with her.  He kept his kisses slow and halting, never allowing their lips to be connected long enough for lust to overtake him.  He trailed his lips and hands all over her body while he spoke.  “When we were in Falmouth, I trusted you. I knew that your understanding of the situation was superior to mine and I followed your lead.”  

Charlotte sighed as his attentions receded and he looked at her.  “You are asking me to do the same?” she asked.    

Alexander nodded.  “I am certain that we will lie together countless times in our lives, but there is only one first time, Charlotte.  It is my job, as your husband, to ensure that it is sublime for you.”  He continued to trail his fingers over her shoulders before gathering the fringe of her nightgown and tying it.  “I cannot do that when I am worried that someone will walk through the door. We need time to get to know one another, and for me to ensure that you are entirely comfortable.  I will never be one to quash your bright spirit, but in this matter I am asking you, please, to trust me.”  

“I trust you.” 

“Thank You,” he leaned down to give her one more kiss before splaying himself on his back beside her.  “When the sun rises, we will make rounds and I will introduce you to the tenants and we will check on the thresher and after dinner it will be back to the Parkers for you and on Wednesday, London for me.”  

Charlotte snuggled into him.  “I will miss you.  I shall be lonely at night.” 

“Two more weeks, My Love.”  He kissed the top of her head.  “Two more weeks and then we shall never be lonely again.”

***

Alexander rose and dressed before Charlotte awoke, convinced separation would be easier that way.  Still, before leaving the room he leaned down and kissed her on the temple.  

“No, Xander, don’t go yet,” she mumbled as she rolled toward him without fully waking.  It occurred to him that he really did like it when she used that name.  He sat for a moment to be sure she had returned to sleep before stepping outside his bedroom for the first time in five days.  Mrs. Wheatley was walking down the hall.  

“How are you feeling, sir?”  

“A little weak, but no worse for wear, I think.  I could definitely do with a nice breakfast, though.  I’m starving.”  

Mrs. Wheatley took measure of him, checking the circumference of his wrists and the fit of his coat.  “You’ve lost half a stone, I’d say.  Your brother and the girls are already dining downstairs.  I will have the kitchen make you an omelette…and you are to eat it in its entirety.”    

Xander offered her a crooked smile and headed down the stairs.  

“Papa!” Leonora shouted and sprang from her chair as soon as he entered the room.  

“Hello there, my girl.  When did you return from the Parker’s?”

“Last night.”  

“And did you have a good time?” 

“Oh yes!  Alicia is my friend now, Papa!  We went to the beach and Mrs. Parker took us to Chawston’s for sweet rolls two mornings in a row!  We made a sandcastle and we even got to sleep in the same bed!  It was like having a sister!”   

“Well, I shall take no offence to that comment,” Augusta said mockingly.  

Leo paid her no mind as she pulled her father to the table and climbed into his lap.  “I missed you, papa.”  

“I missed you too, Leo.”  

The child then proceeded to feed him a croissant with butter.  “Your lap is skinny, Papa.”  

“So I am told.”  At that moment, an omelette appeared in front of him on the table, personally delivered by Mrs. Wheatley, who had the stern look of a mother on her face.  

“Eat,” was her simple command.  

Samuel, clearly enjoying seeing his brother being ordered about, flapped out his newspaper and gave his brother a look that said, “You had better do as you are told.”  He took the opportunity to breach the topic of Xander’s will.  “Brother, after you have eaten, we need to discuss your will.”  

“I am not planning to die.” 

“And it is no understatement when I say that we are all extremely thankful that I do not have to run a farm, but I did look at it when you were ill and there are a few places it can be improved.  Besides, entire clauses of it will need to be altered now that you are to be married.”  

“I’m sure.  However, that activity does not require daylight, so I shall see to rounds first and we can talk later.”  

“Rounds!” Samuel replied.  “I am not sure you are yet in the condition to ride a horse, brother.”  

“Mother nature does not wait for the farmer, I’m afraid.  I am pleased to say that this year’s winter wheat was our largest yield to date, and the spring wheat is not far behind, but that also means it has taken us longer to cradle and separate it.  Thus far, nature has been kind to us with the lack of rain, but that will not last forever.  I must see that the work is on target to be finished by the end of the week, if we can manage it.”  

Mrs. Wheatley now stared at Samuel, who was very well aware that she was asking him to go along to look after his little brother.  He shook his paper and pretended to read.  Silence reigned once again over the breakfast table as Alexander ate his omelette and everyone in the room made sure he did so.  

“So, brother, what shall we see on rounds today?”  

“We?”

“Surely you don’t think I am going to allow my little brother to fend for himself after a near death experience.”  

“Because you were always so concerned for my welfare?”  He threw a knowing glance in Mrs. Wheatley’s direction.  Rather than meet his eyes, she simply left for the kitchen.  Alexander sighed, resigned.  It was probably better that he was not alone with Charlotte anyway.  He continued, “The orchards are first.  The late-season Ashmead and Gilliflower apples should be ready for picking at this point.  We shall check on them on the way to the western fields.  Mr. Thompson and Mr. Battlesford oversee those fields and that crop of spring wheat was the last to be planted and the last to ripen this year.  We must check the dryness of the shocks to be sure it is ready for threshing.  Mr. Harris was to use his team of draft horses to move the machine from the eastern lands to the west at the end of last week.  If all has gone well, the thresher should be operating when we get there.  Charlotte is excited to see it.” His face glimmered.  “Her eyes were like fireworks when I told her we had one.”  

“So, my farmer brother is to marry a farm girl.”  Samuel smiled.  

“It would seem so.”   

“I shall be ready in about half-an-hour, brother.  I must write to Susan and cancel our lunch.”

“May I come, father?”  

Alexander looked at his daughter.  He had indeed missed her these last few days.  “Why not?  Go and change your clothes.”  The little girl sprang into action.  Mrs. Wheatley had left the room, as had Samuel and Leo.  Alexander stared at the final half of what must have been a five-egg omelette sitting on his plate, convinced he could not eat another bite.  He stood with it, added a butter croissant to the plate, grabbed a fork and headed back upstairs, hoping not to run into Mrs. Wheatley.  

But when he arrived, Mrs. Wheatley was already there.  He had not knocked; it was his own bedchamber after all. Instead, he arrived to find Charlotte dressing under Mrs. Wheatley’s careful eye.  He turned his back as if they had not just been in bed together for days.   

“I brought you an omelette and bread, My Love.”  

Charlotte smiled.  Mrs. Wheatley had already brought her the same.  “You mean that you brought me the rest of your omelette hoping that Mrs. Wheatley would not know that you did not eat it all.”  She giggled.  “I only managed half of mine.  How much did you manage?”  

“The same.  It seems the entire family is going on rounds, Samuel and Leo included.”  

“You may turn around, Alexander.  That will be very nice, I think.  Mrs. Wheatley, might I ask for your assistance in packing a lunch for us all?”  

“You need not ask for my assistance, Miss Heywood.  As the future mistress of Heyrick Park, you may simply order it done.”  

Alexander caught Charlotte’s eye in the mirror and smiled.  She smiled shyly back.  “Mrs. Wheatley, would you please tell the kitchen that the family is going riding today and that we will require lunch and refreshment for our journey.”  

“Of course, ma’am.” She turned to Alexander, “Sir,” and left the room.

Alexander quickly set his omelette next to Charlotte’s on the dressing table and leaned down to place his hands on her shoulders and kiss the top of her head.  “And how is the future mistress of Heyrick Park feeling this morning?”  

“Please stop calling me that.”  

“Why?  It is true.” 

“It may be true, but I am just Charlotte.”  

“You, Charlotte almost Colbourne, are not just anything.  You have made this house whole again and everyone here will be forever grateful.”  

Charlotte reached across with her hand to take his on her shoulder.  He pulled on the hand to spin her in her seat and raised her to standing. Their lips seemed to unite of their own accord.  “Are you ready to see the thresher?”  

“Yes!”       

***

As they readied the horses in the stable, Charlotte asked, “Why only three horses, Alexander?” 

“One for you, one for me, and one for Samuel.  Leo can ride with any one of us throughout the day, but she is not yet a strong enough rider to handle an animal on her own.”  

“What about Augusta?” 

“I don’t believe she intends to come along.” 

“Did you ask her?”  

“Now that you mention it, I did not. I assumed she would know she is welcome.”  

“Would she?”  

Alexander turned back toward the house.  “Will you come with me?”  

“It should come from you.  I will finish here.”  

Alexander nodded.  She was right.  He passed Samuel and Leo on his way.  

“Aren’t you headed in the wrong direction, brother?”  

“I thought I would try to convince Augusta to join us.” 

“Uncle Samuel already asked her,” Leo said dejectedly.    

“And her response?”  

“That discussion of wheat yields and apple varieties could not compare with the majesty of Sir Walter Scott,” Samuel replied.    

“Ah.  I see.  Well, I shall give it a go nonetheless.  She should know, at least, that we wish her to be with us.  I’ll join you presently.”  

Alexander found Augusta in the window seat, already engaged with Ivanhoe .  “Has Wilfried fallen for Lady Rowena yet?”

“Only just,” she replied without looking up.  

“I hoped that I might convince you to join us on our family outing.”  

“I thought you were making rounds to the tenants.”  

“I am, but Sam is coming along, apparently to ensure I am well enough, and Charlotte wishes to see the threshing machine, and Leo wants to be wherever Charlotte is, so we are missing only you.  Will you complete our little group?” 

“Thank you, Uncle.  It is very kind of you to ask, but I am content with Ivanhoe .”  

“Not hiding away?  I do know something of that.”  

“Not hiding away.”  

“Alright, then.  Enjoy your reading.  We’ll see you at dinner.”

Alexander was halfway to the foyer door when her voice stopped him. 

“Uncle?”  

He turned back to face her.  

“I am glad you are well, Uncle.  And…thank you for asking.”  

He bowed his head at her rather formally, uncertain of how to reply to what was clearly an effort on her part to repair their relationship.  He would ask Charlotte what to do next.  

***

Alexander rode Hannibal directly under an apple tree and plucked a fruit from the branch.  He handed it to his betrothed.    

“That is delicious Alexander.  What variety is it?” Charlotte asked.    

“Gilliflower, originally from Cornwall, but well adapted to grow here as well.  The beauty of them is that they keep well into January, requiring less canning from the farmer’s wives to make it through the winter and fight off scurvy in the children.  It also means that Heyrick Park can continue to have income into the winter.  We have converted an old grotto on the east side of the property near town to cool storage, where we keep them.  You will see them in the stock of Wood & Jones Greengrocers even in January.”  

Charlotte pulled Perses alongside Hannibal, grateful that Leo was currently riding with her Uncle Samuel.  She reached out for his hand.  “You know that fathomless love you spoke about?”  She smiled in a flattering imitation of him. “I believe it is now several fathoms deeper.”  

“Apples?  Really?  We were in bed together for five days, nearly died, and proceeded to do other unmentionable things and it is talk of apples that causes you to say that?”

“I am a farmer’s daughter.”  

“Lucky me.” 

From a few yards away, Samuel watched his younger brother, holding hands with his betrothed and said to Leo.  “Look at your Papa, Leo.  He is happy.  I have never seen him so happy.”  

“Me either.  He has been sad my whole life, until Miss Heywood came.”  

“Your future Mama is indeed a remarkable lady.” 

“Mama says that a girl can be anything she wants to be.” 

“Does she?  And what do you want to be?”  

“I want to be a pirate, sailing the seas and finding treasure!”    

“That sounds very exciting, though perhaps not the most honourable of professions.”  

“Papa and Augusta say I am very good at arguing.  Perhaps I could be a lawyer, like you.”

“Perhaps you could be a pirate lawyer, settling disputes over treasure, and taking your own cut, of course.”  

“Oh, yes!  Mama! Papa!”  

Charlotte and Alexander beamed at the sound of their daughter calling to them and dropped their still-joined hands to pull up on either side of Samuel and Leo. 

“Yes, Leo?” Charlotte answered. 

“I have decided that I am going to be a pirate lawyer.”  

“That’s wonderful,” Charlotte replied.  “And what does a pirate lawyer do, exactly?” 

“Settle disputes over treasure while taking a cut of the profits.” 

“Ha!” Alexander looked at his brother, tongue-in-cheek, and rolled his eyes at him.  “Some might argue that it is the lawyers themselves who are the pirates.”

“Exorbetency is not the same as piracy, brother.”  Samuel smirked in return.  

They all laughed together as they headed to the western fields. 

***

Charlotte had seen drawings of threshing machines in her father’s farming newsletters which contained advertisements from any number of manufacturers claiming that these miracle machines could change a farmer’s fortunes.  Each machine had the same basic premise: separate the grain heads from the shaft, then blow away the chaff.  When finished, you have clean grain for the mill and hay for the animals.  At one point, Mr. Heywood had considered purchasing a hand thresher which the older children, working in teams, could operate, but decided against it as it did not increase yields enough to warrant the cost.  

What she saw in front of her now was nothing short of a miracle!  It looked like a giant sea monster, perched atop a wagon, with its tongue hanging out.  That tongue was a long, leather conveyor belt, approximately eighteen inches wide, upon which grain was hoisted by pitchfork to be devoured by the iron jaws at the top.  She dismounted her horse and eagerly approached the creature.  It was not really a wagon, but rather a platform with iron wheels nearly as tall as her shoulders.  Stacked upon that platform were a series of enormous gears, the teeth of which, she’d no doubt, would crush a person’s entire hand in an instant.  Three rods extended outward like spokes, she assumed for harnessing the horses to power the beast.  

“Alexander!”  The giddy look on her face warmed him all the way to his bones.  “It is a wonder!”  

“Yes.  It is.” 

“The shocks of wheat are placed here?”  She asked, pointing.  

“Yes.  The horses walk and the gears run the pulley for the belt.  The men load the wheat here,” he pointed to the end of the monster’s tongue, “And the belt pulls the wheat into that large-tooth drum, which beats the heads from the shaft.  The men collect the hay at the top and pitch it to the wagon below.  They then take the wagons to the storage barns for the winter feed.  Meanwhile, the heads fall through this series of screens and fans and the grain finally falls out this chute into sacks for the mill.”

“Remarkable.”  

“It is when it is running,” he said, perturbed.  “I don’t know why it is not.  The belt repairs we made appear to be holding.  It is a fine day and it is not like Mr. Thompson or Mr. Battlesford not to work.  We shall ride to their cottages next to see what is amiss.”     

***

As they approached the Battlesford tenancy, it was eerily quiet. Alexander knocked. The door was slightly ajar. He pushed on it. Leo, as usual, was at his heels. He put his arm out in front of her to keep her back. 

“Leo, go to Uncle Samuel.  Now.”  

Usually one for testing limits, Leo could tell by the tone of his voice that obedience was not optional. 

“Alexander?” Charlotte prodded for more information. 

“Mr. Battlesford?” He called out rather than replying to her. “Mrs. Battlesford? Hello?” His calls were met by the shuffling of small feet coming from the children’s room.  “Miss Joanna?”  

Charlotte thought the child must be five or six years at most. She was dressed in her nightgown, with bare feet and a shawl around her shoulders. Her hair was dishevelled and matted as if no one had cared for it in a few days. She coughed as she spoke.

“Everyone is sick, sir.” 

“Your brother?” Alexander inquired after Reginald, fourteen years of age. 

“Yes sir. Reggie, Mama, Papa…even the baby.”

“Are your parents awake?” Alexander asked

“No sir. I have tried to wake them.  They do not reply.”

“And where is the baby?” he questioned, daring to hope in the pit of his stomach that the infant had not been claimed.  

“With Mama.”

Alexander knelt, brushing his flat palm over the child’s matted hair. “It’s going to be alright Joanna. Have you been sick, dear child?”

“I was first, sir, but I am better now.”

“That is good. Why don’t you go back to your brother and we will see to your mama and papa and the baby.”

The little girl curtsied and returned from whence she came.

Alexander turned toward the second sleeping quarters, fearful of what he would find but knowing that he had no option. Charlotte, sensing his nervousness, stepped behind him and took his hand. He clasped it in gratefulness as he pushed the door. Mr. Battlesford lay on his back with the flushed face of a fever.  Mrs. Battlesford was on her side, white as a sheet.  The baby between them seemed quiet and peaceful. Alexander heard Charlotte gasp.  She quickly surpassed him and picked up the child.  It barely moved in her arms.  

“Alexander, the baby is still alive.”  

“Sadly, it seems Mrs. Battlesford is not.”

“That is why the baby is so weak.  She was probably trying to nurse with no success.”  

Alexander rounded the bed.  “Mr. Battlesford,” he felt his tenant’s forehead.  “Henry.”  He received no reply and turned back to Charlotte, “He is dangerously warm, as you were.”  

Charlotte had her pinky finger in the child’s mouth.  The baby sucked weakly.  She searched around the room for a sizable cloth and found a shawl over the chair.  One-handed, she folded it into the proper shape, threw it over her shoulder, reached behind her to grab the end and bring it around and tucked the baby inside.  She tied it tightly to make a sling.  Alexander watched in wonder.  

“Try to get his fever down,” Charlotte took command.  “Mrs. Filkins in the Old Town is nursing her own child.  I will take the baby to her.  She will be more than happy to help.  I will fetch Dr. Fuchs while I am there.  I must admit to being a bit turned around, though.  What will be the fastest way to town from here?”  

“Due south to the cliff and then into town past the church.” 

“Good.  I will ask for Mister Hankins when I pass.”  She headed for the door. 

“Charlotte.” He grabbed her arm.  “Is it too overbearing of me to ask that you take Samuel with you.  You were so sick and I would feel remiss as a husband if I did not offer you some measure of support for your task.”  

Charlotte took his hand.  “No, Xander, it is not overbearing.  It is gentlemanly, and I accept it.  Thank you for asking rather than insisting.”  Alexander offered her a warm smile.  Charlotte smiled back, a bit shyly.  “I think I shall call you Xander when you are being sweet.”  

He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.  “Safe travels.  I will go to check on the Thompsons, return Leo to the house, and recruit some men to help with the threshing.”  

“Samuel and I shall meet you back here with Dr. Fuchs and Reverend Hankins, so that he may bless Mrs. Battlessford before you take her away.”  

Alexander gave her hand a final squeeze and nodded before letting her go.

***

Susan opened the door to Samuel’s knock.  “Samuel, my dear.  What are you doing here?  Your note said you were attending rounds with the family.” 

He stepped forward, put his hand at the back of her neck and kissed her, seeking solace.  “I was,” he said after a few moments.  “I am. The sickness has invaded Heyrick Park, I’m afraid.  One of the families–the Battlesfords–they all have it.  The mother has passed.  Charlotte and I brought the infant to town.  Charlotte knows a nursing mother who will be able to feed the child until we find a more permanent solution.”

“Oh, how awful.  Shall I come back with you?”  

“There is little you can do, I’m afraid.  Charlotte and I are going to take Dr. Fuchs and Reverend Hankins back with us.  But perhaps, you might consider coming for dinner?  I am sure you will be a balm for my soul by the end of the day.”   

“Certainly.  What time?”

“Seven.”   

Susan leaned in and kissed him again.  “I shall see you then.”  

Samuel stepped away from Susan’s apartment, descended the stairs, and meandered onto the promenade to wait for Charlotte.  He took in the sights of a changing Sanditon.  The colourful buildings and cobblestone streets were a welcome change from the dreariness he’d grown up with.  He and Xander had often wandered to the hills above the collection of fishing huts that was the former town to see the fishermen bringing in their catch.  One time, when father was particularly in his cups, Mrs. Wheatley had sent them on a mission to purchase the largest fish they could carry for supper. Samuel smiled at the memory.  Perhaps it was age or perhaps the fact that he’d been in London for twenty years yet had found love only upon his return home, but he was finding himself more and more attached to the place.  Charlotte stepped up behind him.   

“The baby has nursed with Mrs. Filkins.  She is very weak, but hopefully, now that she can feed whenever she likes, she will recover.”  

“Good.  Is there anything else that you need while we are here in town, before we retrieve Dr. Fuchs and Reverend Hankins?”   

“If you do not mind a stop at Trafalgar House, I will advise Mary of the situation and pack a change of clothing.  I’ve nothing appropriate for dinner at Heyrick Park.”  Samuel offered her an arm in escort.  “Are you well, Mr. Colbourne?  You seemed deep in thought as I approached.  I had to say your name twice to garner your attention.”   

“Well, I imagine you had to say it twice because I was not expecting you to address me so formally.  Please.  You are to be my sister.  You must call me Samuel.”  

“Alright, Samuel, are you troubled?  Beyond the events of the day, that is?” 

“I was just remembering a time when Mrs. Wheatley sent Xander and me to purchase a fish for dinner, instructing us to purchase the largest one we could carry.  She did not expect that we would find a way to drag home a thirty-six pound Halibut!”  

Charlotte laughed out loud. “How old were you?”  

“I was fourteen and Xander eight.  Our punishment was to eat fish for two meals a day for a week!  We had halibut fillets, halibut stew…we even had halibut in our omelettes at breakfast.  We still did not eat it all before it spoiled. I did not eat halibut again until I was a grown man.”  

“A thirty-six pound halibut would last even my family of fourteen for a week!”  

“Fourteen!”  

“Yes.  My father and mother and twelve children.”  

“Does Xander know this?”

“Yes.  Why do you ask?”  

“No reason.”  He could not hide his smile, though he tried.    

“Not one that you can say in polite company?”  She smirked as they ascended the stairs to the door of Trafalgar house.  Samuel donned a look of surprise.  Charlotte could not tell if it was genuine or feigned.  “I am not a wallflower, Samuel.  I understand how children come into this world.  I grew up on a farm.” 

“I am saying nothing.”  

Charlotte let go of his arm and shook her head at him.  “I’ll be only a moment.”

***

Samuel and Charlotte led the Parker carriage, which Mary had kindly offered for transport of Dr. Fuchs and the Reverend Hankins to Heyrick Park.  When they arrived at the church, Dr. Fuchs stepped out. 

“Frauline Hankins.”  

“Dr. Fuchs.”  

“Is your brother currently present?” 

“He is not,”  Mis Hankins replied.  

Samuel and Charlotte smiled at one another knowingly at the small look of mischief upon Ms. Hankins’ face when she made the statement.   

Miss Hankins continued, “His services are required far too often of late, with the illness in town.”  She turned toward Charlotte.  “What a blessing, Miss Heywood, to see you looking so well.” 

“Thank you, Miss Hankins.  Sadly, there is a family at Heyrick Park, the Battlesfords, who have all caught the sickness.  The mother has passed and we have come to ask the Reverend to minister to her before we take the body away.” 

“Alas, I do not expect him home for several hours.”  

Charlotte looked at Samuel, unsure of what to do. 

“Might I offer a solution?”  Miss Hankins requested.  No one objected.  “Sir Edward is here and he has been ministering along with my brother in town.  Perhaps he could see to Mrs. Battlesford, if you’ve no objection.”  

“Absolutely not,” Samuel interjected.

Simultaneously, Charlotte sighed and said, “He may.”  

Charlotte and Samuel looked at one another.  Dr. Fuchs and Miss Hankins stared at them, waiting to see who would accept the other’s response.  

“Charlotte?”  Samuel questioned her with a raised eyebrow.  

“The injured parties are not present at the Battlesfords’ cottage.  I can hold my tongue and I am sure Alexander can manage to contain his temper.  This is about the Battlesfords, not us.”   

“You are the lady of the manor,” he replied with a tone of warning in his voice.  “I just hope the lord of the manor agrees with you.”    

Charlotte turned.  “That is a fine solution, Miss Hankins.  Mrs. Parker has kindly lent the carriage for Dr. Fuchs and Sir Edward.”  

“I will come as well,” Miss Hankins offered, “To assist with preparing the body.”  

“Thank you, Miss Hankins.  That is very kind.”  

***

Charlotte and Samuel rode their horses in front of the carriage, leading the way along the cliff to show the carriage where to turn to reach the Battlesfords.  

“I am not sure I want to be present when Alexander sees Sir Edward Denham.”  

“I will ride ahead and prepare him.”  Charlotte said, matter-of-factly.  “Alexander may not know it, but, indirectly, we owe a lot to sir Edward.”  

“He will not like that idea.  How so?” 

Charlotte settled in for a long story that even Alexander did not yet know.  “When I first arrived in Sanditon two summers ago, I was a naive young girl with a sharp tongue and big ideas who had never left Willingden.  Sidney Parker, of course was just the opposite – worldly, gruff, and somewhat prone to ungentlemanly behaviour.  We could not stand one another at first, but over time we proved to be a rather combustible mix.”  

“Sparks flew?” 

“Oh yes.  At the midsummer ball, we were standing on the balcony in the common room and Sidney was about to propose marriage to me when Edward Denham walked through the door, drunk, claiming that Lady Babington should choose him rather than Lord Babington.  It was all very scandalous.”  She took a breath and continued.  “Sidney excused himself to help escort Sir Edward out.  While he was gone, Arthur came running to tell us that there was a fire in town.  The fire destroyed half of Tom’s investment and he had neglected to pay the insurance and was thus ruined.  Sidney went to London to try to secure funding but was unable to do so.  Out of duty to his family, he agreed to marry a wealthy widow, Eliza Campion.” 

“You were passed over.”

“I was.  Though I can now see it was for the best, at the time, it was quite painful.  But, had Edward Denham not walked through the door of the ballroom that night at that precise moment, I may very well be Mrs. Sidney Parker.  I may have returned to Antigua with him and died myself or now be a widow.” 

“One moment, changing the course of history.” 

“Indeed.  And my understanding is that it was Sir Edward who encouraged Colonel Lennox to bring the regiment to Sanditon for respite.  Had they not been here, Leo would not have stepped in front of that horse and without that, I may never have had occasion to be governess at Heyrick Park.”   

“What irony.”  

“And, as much as I despise the idea that Augusta’s pain was to my benefit, it was my trip to Falmouth with Alexander that finally convinced me that I could not go through with my wedding to Mr. Starling.  And so, as you can see, I owe a lot to Sir Edward Denham,” she smiled, “Though I would never admit as much to him.”  

“You a far more gracious than I.”  

Charlotte nodded and clicked at Perses, leaving the carriage trail at a canter and heading toward the cottage to warn Alexander of the impending arrival.  

***

Alexander rode toward the Battlesford tenancy worried that he would miss Charlotte and Samuel’s return.  His time at the Thompson’s had taken longer than he expected.  Young Jeremiah Thompson had absorbed the tenancy from his father only the previous spring and had proven to be a fine manager and a quick learner with a mind for mechanics.  He understood the threshing machine and its inner workings in a superior manner to Alexander and they had repaired the conveyor belt together just two weeks prior. But on this morning, Alexander had arrived to find the young Mrs. Thompson, Ella, in labour.  Can anything else possibly happen on this day , Alexander asked himself.  

The elder Mr. Thompson sat in a chair by the fire, leaning on his cane.  “I told him the harvest waits for no man and that birthin’ is women’s business, but he won’t leave her side.”  

“I can’t say that I blame him,” Alexander replied.  “I imagine that I will be the same, when Mrs. Colbourne and I welcome our child.”  

“Mrs. Colbourne, sir?” 

“Yes.  I am to be married.  In two weeks.” 

“Well congratulations, sir!  It is about time, might I say.”  The old man shook the top of his cane at Alexander.  

“Indeed it is, Mr. Thompson.  But it needed to be the right woman for my children, for Heyrick Park, and for me.” 

Mr. Thompson could offer no reply as they were interrupted by cries of labour.  

“I shall send assistance presently,” Alexander said as he ran out the door and mounted Hannibal.    

He had since been to Heyrick Park to recruit Mrs. Wheatley and some female staff to assist Mrs. Thompson in labour, assigned all but one of the stable hands to go to the barns on the Harris tenancy and bring the draft horses to the thresher, and advised Augusta of the happenings of the day thus far.  Now, he was relieved to see Charlotte galloping toward him, though he wondered why she felt the need to approach him at such speed.  

“Charlotte?” He questioned her as they approached on their horses, neither dismounting.  “Is something amiss?” 

“Is there anything that is not amiss today, My Love?”  

“That does seem to be the rule of the day.  Speaking of which, you mentioned that you were present for the birth of your youngest three brothers and sisters.”  

“I was.” 

“How would you feel about delivering a baby?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Mr. Thompson has not arrived at the thresher because his wife is giving birth to their first child.  Would you be able to assist her? I have also sent Mrs. Wheatley and some staff and I will send Dr. Fuchs after he tends to the Battlesfords.”  

“Yes, of course.  Speaking of Dr. Fuchs, the carriage should arrive shortly.  But Alexander, Reverend Hankins was not available.”  She reached out to touch his forearm.  “Edward Denham is coming in his stead with Miss Hankins.” She watched her betrothed clench his jaw and attempted to proactively dispel a negative reaction.  “Samuel expressed opposition, but Augusta is still at the house, and this is about the Battlesfords, not us.  I believe you and I can both manage to hold our tongues for such a purpose.”  

Alexander seethed, but she was correct.  He nodded.

“How do I get to the Thompson’s?”  Charlotte asked.  

***

Alexander stood at the top of the thresher, pitching the separated straw into a wagon below.  He paused to wipe his brow on his forearm as the late afternoon sun pounded upon him.  Jeremiah Thompson had arrived, not yet a father, but assured by the ladies that everything was in hand.  Together with the two stable hands, their crew of four had managed to process nearly half the haystacks in the field.  The sky to the south was grey, however, and the wind had shifted to come from the ocean.  Alexander worried that rain was coming.  So, despite his weariness, he pressed onward.  

Meanwhile at the Thompsons, Charlotte had shed her pelisse and pinafore, rolled the sleeves of her dress, and removed her shoes and stockings to protect them during the birth.  And what a birth it had been.  Mrs. Ella Thompson was merely two years’ Charlotte’s junior.  The youngest in her family, she had never seen a birth and was completely unprepared for the process.  But with Charlotte’s calm demeanour as their cue, the team of ladies from Heyrick had managed to care for the young missus.  Charlotte was able to coach her through effective pushing and five hours later, Hariotte Thompson had come screaming into the world.  Charlotte sighed as Mrs. Wheatley handed her a basin and cloth to take outside and wash herself. 

“It’ll be your turn soon enough,” the elder woman had said, smiling.    

Charlotte placed the basin on a stool in the yard and splashed her face with the cool water.  The autumn air stung as it hit the wetness.  The wind was picking up and had changed direction.  She hoped that Alexander had the thresher working and that he was making progress in the field.  Sitting on the stool, she washed her feet, ankles, and forearms before donning her garments once again.  Her hair was a mangled mess, but she supposed that would need to wait until she had a mirror. This day would have made her bone weary in her normal state.  Post-illness, she found she could sleep standing.  Still, sleep would have to wait. She would ride back to the thresher to deliver the news.     

By the time she got within one hundred yards of the thresher, she had to pull her collar over her nose and throat to protect herself from dust.  Pausing, she reached down and tore a strip from the bottom of her slip, tying it over her nose and mouth.  She looked up to take in the sight of Alexander, perched atop the monster’s head, tossing hay into the wagon below him.  One man, whom she recognized as a stable hand, was walking the horses in a circle while the other stable hand and Jeremiah Thompson loaded the hay onto the conveyor.  She looked up again at her betrothed.  He looked as he often did in the stables, with no cravat, no waistcoat, and sleeves rolled to his elbows, only now he was sweating so profusely that his skin was clearly visible through his shirt.  

Upon seeing Charlotte, Jeremiah Thompson ran to meet her, removing his hat.  “What news, Mistress?”    

“You must go and meet your daughter, Mr. Thompson.” 

“A girl?  It is a girl!”  

“Yes.” Charlotte smiled. “And she has quite the voice.  Strong and healthy.”  

Jeremiah sprinted over the fields and out of sight.    

Releasing Perses to graze in the small grove of trees next to Hannibal, Charlotte hung her pelisse on the tree and grabbed her canteen from the saddle bag.  She began climbing the ladder to Alexander’s position.  The gears spun only inches away and she had to admit they were a bit frightening.  She kept her skirts pulled tightly against her legs.  She soon found a hand raising her onto the platform and heard a Whoa! from below as the men stopped the horses and the machine to ensure her safety.  

“Charlotte!” Alexander scolded her.  “You cannot climb the ladder when the thresher is in operation!”  He began inspecting her for damage.  

“I am fine, Alexander.”  She put her hand upon his damp arm and quelled her own physical reaction to him in such a state.  “No harm is done and I will learn the lesson for the future.  Here.”  She handed him the canteen.  

“Thank you.  Mine has been dry for at least an hour, but given the look of the skies, I’ve been reluctant to stop the machine to climb down and refill it.”  

Charlotte spoke quietly as Alexander knocked back the entire canteen.  “I must say, Mr. Colbourne, you are currently quite the sight.  Were no one else here, I would be tempted to let you know just how magnificent a sight you are.”   

Alexander choked on his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  He stared down at her hoping his eyes couldto kiss her in front of the men.  “What news of Ella Thompson?”  

“A healthy baby girl, screaming her way into the world.  She had nursed already before I left.”  

Alexander let out a deep sigh of relief.  “Well, that is some good news on this day.”  

They continued to stare at one another, frozen in the moment and unaware of how much time was passing.  

“For God’s sake, just kiss her so we can get on with the work!” Samuel’s voice suddenly broke through as he approached on Atilla.  The lovers turned a rosie shade at his admonishment.  

“My turn?”  Charlotte asked as she rolled her sleeves.   

“I suppose it is silly to ask if you know how to handle a pitchfork?”  

She cocked her head sideways at him.  

“John.  Cue the horses!”  Alexander ordered.  The beasts lumbered forward as the gears began to turn.  The men loaded at the bottom of the conveyor and the machine began to vibrate.  It was a bit difficult to keep balance.  Charlotte widened her stance and began pitching the hay into the wagon below.  Alexander stood behind her, ready to help, but unneeded.  In fairly short order, he found himself leaning on the handle of his pitchfork, staring at every curve in her body as she moved.  Her wide stance brought to mind images of his beautiful wife with her legs spread upon their bed, beckoning him.  Her chest heaved with her hard work, sending her breasts upward and downward with each twist of her body.  Alexander imagined her twisting that body around his, every inch of them joined in bliss.  Disappearing into the vision, he closed his eyes as he leaned into the handle of his pitchfork.  

“Alexander?”  Charlotte reached out to shake his shoulder.  “Alexander!  You are sleeping where you stand and you are going to fall off.  I shall have them stop the machine so that you can climb down.”  

“No,” he replied.  “There is no need.  You should not climb up when the machine is running, but one only needs to jump in order to get down.”  He pulled her in by the waist for a quick kiss through their masks, tossed his pitchfork to the ground, and proceeded to jump outward from the platform and into the pile of hay in the wagon below.  Charlotte tipped her head back in laughter and began tossing hay on top of him.  He popped up and made a cutting motion across his neck to John, who stopped the horses.  “Come, My Love,” he shouted, encouraging Charlotte to jump down.  She, too, tossed her pitchfork aside and jumped away from the platform, landing next to Alexander.  He offered her a hand out of the wagon.  She looked up to find John unhitching one of the work horses from the thresher.  

“Why are you unhitching the horse?” she inquired.  

“To take the wagon to the barn, ma’am.”  

“Hannibal and Perses and Atilla are here now.  Surely one of them can take the wagon so that the machine can continue running?”  

John looked at his master and they both laughed.  “If you try to put a work harness on Hannibal, he will likely revolt,” Alexander said.  

“In Willingden, if there is a job to do and a horse that is not doing a job, then the horse does the job that needs doing.”

“Well, My Love, we are not in Willingden.” Alexander’s voice showed only a hint of his exasperation.    

“No, but we are on a farm, are we not?  And there is a job that needs to be done, is there not?”  She replied.  Samuel and the men looked at one another with large eyes, wondering where the lovers’ feud was headed.  

Charlotte departed to the grove of trees.  She stood in front of Hannibal, looking him squarely in the eyes.  “Hey there, boy.  I need your help.  There is a storm coming and we need to get the hay to the barn.  Will you help me?”  She asked.  Hannibal huffed and shook his mane.  “You will not embarrass me in front of the men now, will you?”  She took his lead and clicked and he walked behind her.  She led him to the wagon, showing him the parts of the harness, including the rod that connected horse to wagon.  “Now this is the part that’s quite different.  It prevents the wagon from running up your rear.”  Hannibal neighed.  “Oh yes, yes I know.  You would not like that, would you?  This harness will feel strange, but I shall replace your saddle afterward, alright boy, since you are more familiar with its feel, and I shall ride you, rather than in the wagon, yes?  That way, the commands will feel familiar.”  After harnessing him, she slowly backed Hannibal into place.   “Good.  Shhhh, good boy.  Now for the heavy part, alright.  This will feel odd around your neck.”  She nodded to Alexander, who helped her place the work harness over Hannibal’s neck.  He reared a bit but did not protest too loudly.  They stood on either side of him, stroking him gently.  “Alright boy,” Charlotte continued.  “You know that whatever you do, Perses will follow.  You just stand here nicely with Alexander while I retrieve Perses.  I’ll be right back.”  

“She is a wonder,” John said to Samuel. 

“She is quite magnificent,” Samuel replied.  “Brains, heart, and unwavering resolve, all tied together in one breathtakingly beautiful package.  For my brother, there is no finer match, I am certain.”  They watched as Charlotte proceeded to connect Perses next to Hannibal.  Charlotte then replaced Hannibal’s riding saddle, a bit further back than usual.  He protested loudly, twitching but not bucking, and shaking his head.

“You do not like that, do you boy?”  Charlotte asked.  “Thank you for telling me.  I shall remove it now, alright?  Do not kick me. Shhh,” she patted the animal's side as she moved between the horses to remove the saddle.  “Why don’t we try walking then, hmmm, so that you can see me.”  She took his lead and clicked.  “Come Perses, follow Hannibal, come on boy.”  The wagon jolted into forward movement.  Hannibal whinnied loudly as did Perses.  “That’s it!  Come on, boys!”  Charlotte beamed as they headed up over the hill.  

Alexander shook his head and threw his arms in the air as he turned to the men.  “Well gentlemen, may I introduce the future mistress of Heyrick Park, Charlotte Heywood.”  He looked at his brother and raised his arm in Charlotte’s direction, “Sam?”   

“Right,” Samuel jolted himself into a jog, realising that he was to go with her. “Which barn?”  

“The old stone barn by the pond.”  

“See you in a bit.”  Samuel ran after the wagon.  

“Alright, gentlemen.  Pull up the other wagon.  Onward we go,” Alexander ordered.  He climbed the ladder, prepared to work until sunset.     

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Charlotte and Samuel stood in the back of the wagon, pitching the third wagon of hay they had transported into the pile in the barn.  

“I don’t imagine, Charlotte, that you have ever had the pleasure of enduring the temper of a Colbourne when he is seething.”  

“Actually, I have.  And in public, no less.”  

“My brother lost his temper in public?”  

“He did.  Though it was not entirely his fault.  Colonel Lennox was purposefully baiting him.”  

“Lennox!  About Lucy?” 

“No.  Me.”

“You!  What did Xander have to say about that?” 

Charlotte dropped her voice about an octave and spoke through her teeth.  “You are to have no further contact with that man.  You are my governess. I forbid it.”  

“Ouch.”  

“I was furious with him at the time, but I understand now that he was trying to protect me in the best way he knew how.”

“That is very generous of you.  I do hope Xander will be generous in return.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You just used his prized geldings to pull wagonloads of hay!  He will need to spend at least a week with them to earn their trust again and ensure their smooth reaction to riding commands.”

“Would he have preferred to have a wagonload of wet, mouldy, wasted hay instead?”  

“Honestly, Charlotte, I do not know.  Xander has been the master of this estate for a decade.  He is not used to anyone challenging his authority.  Your action with the horses was quite…bold.”  

“Alexander likes that I am bold.”  

“Yes.  Yes he does. He adores it, actually, but being bold to him in private and being bold in front of the workers are two entirely different things.”  

“So I may have an opinion as long as I do not publicly express it!  That is absurd!”  

“It is not that you have an opinion, it is the manner in which you express it.”  

“Well, he did not seem angry when we left.”  

“Trust me.  Despite our distance these last years, I know my brother.  He is currently seething more deeply with each pitchfork of hay he tosses, stewing and simmering under a barely contained lid.”  

Charlotte pitched the rest of the hay in silence, contemplating Samuel’s words.

***

The sun had nearly set.  The work was done.  The work horses had been returned to their stables.   Exhausted did not describe those involved in the day’s pursuits, especially the still-recovering Alexander.  He felt as though a giant boulder had rolled down a hill and flattened him and if the wind blew, he was certain he would fall limp as a leaf and simply blow away.  

“Thomas, John, your service to Heyrick Park was beyond expectations today.  I cannot thank you enough.  Please, tomorrow, do only the minimum required for the horses and spend the rest of the day at your leisure.  You have earned it.”  

“Thank you, sir.”  

“I will see you tomorrow.” 

The men each offered a bowed head in deference and retreated through the field, pitchforks over their shoulders.  Alexander climbed the ladder to the thresher platform with the final sandwich Mrs. Wheatley had provided.  He watched as the outer rim of the orange orb sank over the hills to the west. He lay on his back to watch the first stars come out.  The sky, still a pale blue to the west, was a deep navy to the east.  Only the very brightest stars shone so early in the evening, with a full moon rising to wash away the pale ones.  

As always, his mind turned to Charlotte.  Charlotte was a bright star.  She was his bright star, and that fact still seemed somewhat miraculous.  She brought light to his darkness.  Was she the stars guiding him or the moon lighting his path?  Perhaps both?  Hi was too tired for metaphors.  While his heart still sang of her and his mind wandered to her, the part of him that was master of the estate was seething.  What right had she to do what she did?  Did she not understand the difference between a work horse and a fine equestrian bred for riding?  Did she not understand how it made him look, and worse yet feel , to have the problems of the estate solved by a woman, and in front of the men no less?  He argued with himself.  Of course she understood the difference between breeds of horses, but she also was practical and she had solved the problem in a way that had not occurred to him.  She most likely did not think it a problem that she suggested and then tried her unorthodox solution in front of the men.  If she was truly to be his equal then it should not bother him either.  Why did it?  He could not stop his mind travelling to the nearest tree as he imagined pinning her against it and demonstrating exactly how in charge he was.  The thought of keeping his hands off of her for the next two weeks was torture.  God how he wanted her.  He had simply ignored that part of himself for so long and now that physical pleasure was once again in his grasp he feared his ability to quell the beast within.  He needed to leave for London.  There were things to do before the wedding.  Distance would help.  He sighed, and allowed his eyes to close.  He was asleep within moments.    

Samuel had insisted that Charlotte ride in the wagon for the return.  It was their third trip of the day, half a mile each trip to and from, plus pitching the hay, and her exhaustion was clear.  His suspicions as to her level of exhaustion were confirmed when she did not object to his suggestion.  She took a small sack, stuffed it with hay to make a pillow, and despite the bumps and rikeity-rick of the wagon wheels, slept through the entire walk back to the thresher. 

Samuel was puzzled upon arrival.  His horse was still grazing, but Alexander was nowhere in sight.  Surely if Alexander had returned home he would have ridden the available animal.  Samuel unhitched Hannibal and Perses, still pondering where everyone had gone and why his horse remained.  He shifted his neck from side to side, rubbing it with his palm.  He had never worked so hard in his entire life as he had today.  He could not wait to go home to a bath and dinner with Susan.    

“Charlotte.”  Samuel attempted to wake her with his voice alone.  “Charlotte.” He leaned over the side of the wagon and jostled her shoulder.  “Charlotte,” he repeated.  

“Samuel?”  

“We are back.”  

“Let me help you to unhitch the…horses.  How long have I been asleep?”  

“Oh, I do not know.  Perhaps three-quarters of an hour, all told.”  

“I would have helped you.” 

“All is well.  You needed to rest.  Xander seems to have disappeared, however.”  

Charlotte sat up, stretched, and wiped her eyes.  Upon opening them once more, she spotted Alexander’s canteen, still atop the thresher.  “He is not missing.”  She pointed.  

“Ah.  Well then.  Dinner is at seven.  Susan is coming.  I’ll see you back at the house.”  

“Thank you, Samuel, for the, uhm, conversation earlier.”  

He smiled, “Of course, sister.”  

Charlotte gathered her skirts and ascended the thresher.  “My love, how is it that you still find yourself on this platform?”  She slowed the words at the end of her question as she realised that her future husband had fallen asleep…and left her half a sandwich.  

She consumed her food and beverage beside a sleeping Alexander, staring at the rising moon.  She took in each of his features–strong arms on a lanky frame, square stubbled jaw, hair she thought she could leave her fingers in for eternity.  But behind his handsome countenance she also saw his warm heart, his pride, and his integrity.  Having finished her half of the sandwich, she laid down and snuggled in against him.  

Alexander woke with the contact, but said nothing.  He wrapped his arm behind her and ran his fingers up and down her arm.  He did not want to push her away.  He loved holding her, but he also did not yet feel prepared to discuss his anger with her.  And so, they lay in silence.  

Charlotte finally showed her bravery.  “You are angry with me.” 

“I am not angry. We are not even married yet.  I cannot be angry with you.”

“You can and you are.” 

Alexander offered no response.  

“Alexander, I can feel the tension in every muscle of your body.  It is alright.  Admit it.  You are angry.”

“I will not.” 

“You are.” 

“I am not.” 

Charlotte released herself from his embrace, propped herself onto her elbow beside him, and gave him a look of disbelief.  

“Fine.” He finally conceded. “I am angry.”  He then laughed and smiled.  

“Why are you laughing?  One does not generally laugh when angry.”  

“I told you, I am not angry.”

“But you are.  I know you, Alexander Colbourne, and I can tell when you are angry.”  

“No.  I am happy.”

“How can you be angry and happy?  They have contrary meanings.”

“Well, I am. I am both angry and happy.”    

Charlotte rolled onto her back and grasped his hand.  They lay side by side, gazing at the moon that now appeared three times its size from its place just above the horizon.    

Charlotte tried again.  “You are angry because I contradicted you and took my own actions in front of the workers.”  

“Yes,” he replied quietly.  

“You are angry because you will have to spend a week with Hannibal to get him back to the point that he is not confused by commands and horse and rider can again be one.” 

“Yes.”

“Then why are you happy?”  

“Because I have someone to contradict me.”  He squeezed her hand and sighed in something resembling contentment.  Charlotte did the same and they returned to silence.  “My God, the moon is so bright it does not even feel like the sun has set.”  Thunder rolled in the distance, far over the sea.    

“The rain stayed away,”  Charlotte said.   

Alexander rolled onto his side and pulled her into him, kissing her soundly.  He ran his fingers through her hair, pulling out a few strands of hay before resting his palm on her cheek.  “I believe that as long as I am with you, the rain shall always stay away.  For God’s sake, you saved one baby, delivered another, and retrained my horses on the same day!”  

“I did not deliver the baby.  Dr. Fuchs was there.”  

“If I were a woman, I would take your experience and kindness over that charlatan without blinking.”  He kissed her soundly again.  “And I would take being angry with you a million times over spending another miserable moment alone.  I love you, Charlotte.”

“Xander,”  she whispered, awestruck by his acceptance of her.  He smiled against her lips.   

“You called me Xander.  That must mean I am being sweet.”  

She rolled on top of him, stretched out at length, and ran her fingers along his jaw and through the hairs above the neckline of his shirt.  Her lips followed not far behind her fingers.  The thought crossed his mind that she was learning far too quickly. 

“Charlotte you must stop,” he warned.  She did not. “I would set you to the side, but we are twelve feet high and I would prefer you not to fall to your death.  Please, stop.”  She looked up at him and he put a finger to her lips.  She kissed it. 

“Alright.”  She looked at him earnestly.  “But, while I have you trapped, might I take the moment to say I am sorry?” 

“Yes.” 

“What was it that you said, after Lady Denham’s garden party?  ‘I cannot regret the intention of my words, but I regret the manner in which I expressed them?’” 

Alexander chuckled. “Something like that.”  

“Well, I do not regret my intention to help complete a job that required doing.  Indeed, I am not even sure that I regret using the horses the way that I did.  But what I do regret, most fervently, is that I did the very thing that I have so often accused you of doing.  I did not listen to you.  I did not seek your counsel.  I did not discuss it with you.  I simply ploughed ahead, determined to show that I knew the right path.  I think if today proved anything, it is that you and I make an excellent team, and in that moment I forgot that, and I am sorry.  Forgive me.”  She leaned down to kiss him but stopped short of his lips, waiting for confirmation.  

“Forgiven.  Do not give it another thought.”  He closed the gap between them gently.  “Now, if you will be so kind as to let me descend, I will do so and see you safely to the bottom, M’lady.”  She rolled her eyes at him before rolling herself off of him.  He quickly descended and she tossed the canteen to him.  Halfway through her own descent, he plucked her from the ladder and threw her like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder.  

“Xander!  Xander, what are you doing?”  He was practically running with her across the field to the lone remaining haystack.  Then, suddenly, he flung her off of his shoulder and plopped her into the hay, plopping himself beside her.  “That was unexpected.”     

“Well, it is not easy to keep such an intelligent and capable woman on her toes.  I am glad it is working.”

“What has gotten into you?  You seem nearly giddy.”  

He dropped into the hay and rested his forearm upon his brow.  “I believe it is some heady combination of exhaustion and Charlotte.”  He took her hand once more.  “Do you know the constellations?”  

“Some of them.  I have always had difficulty with the less obvious ones.  For example, there is Taurus the bull,” she pointed, “and the shape makes sense as his horns, but Cassiopeia looks nothing like it is supposed to.  And if that is Taurus,” her finger searched the blank, navy sky, “then Perseus and Andromeda should be nearby, but I do not see them.  The moon is too bright, I think.  No matter.  I always have difficulty finding them anyway, for they also look nothing like they are supposed to.”  

“Perseus would be about there,” he took her hand and moved it to point at a lusterless portion of sky.  He moved their hands slightly to the east, “And Andromeda…there.”  He slid his hand up her arm, down her body, rolled her onto her side, pulled her into him.  “It is one of the few happy marriages in Greek Mythology, I think, Perseus and Andromeda.”  

“They had seven children.” 

“They did.” He caressed her cheek softly, gathering her stray curls in his fingers.  

“Are you trying to tell me that you want seven children?”  

He smiled.  “We shall have as many or as few as you wish, My Love.”  He allowed his fingers to begin wandering.  “But, no matter how many we have, there will be a day when they are driving us mad and you are at your wits end, surrounded by children at school and at home and, on that day…”  He allowed his words to trail away as he focused upon the contours of her body. 

“Xander?”  

“On that day,” he nearly whispered, “I shall take you to the most remote field in Heyrick Park and we shall find ourselves a haystack to hide away.”

Every bit of Charlotte’s body was on fire.  He had touched her before, more passionately than he was now.  They had kissed with more fervour and intertwined their bodies tighter.  Now, they were barely touching, but the air between them seemed alive.  Perhaps it was the tone of his voice–soft, seductive and sweet–as he spoke about their shared future.  Perhaps it was the idea of making those seven children with him, even though she was still not entirely sure what that would entail.  Perhaps it was the prospect of always having someone to disappear with, through every twist and turn fate had to offer.  Whatever the reason, Charlotte found herself unable to break the grip of his spell.  Her chest heaved.  Her lips twitched. That part of her reserved only for him to touch and experience ached for him to do so.  

“Alexander.”  She stared into his eyes, begging him to either release her from the spell or offer relief.  Instead, he ran his fingertips delicately across her lips.  “Alexander,” she tried again.  He continued staring and touching as the longing built between them.  Desperate, Charlotte ran her own fingers down his side, over his hip and, summoning her courage, ran a single finger along the length of him.  The sensation was enough to cause him to lose his concentration and close his eyes.  The spell was released.  Charlotte closed her eyes as well, pressing her forehead to his.  “I hear that you know all the best hiding places.”  They opened their eyes and looked at one another.  “I shall like to explore every one.”  

Alexander smiled.  “Well, we have a lifetime for that.  Right now, I believe there is dinner at the house.  Susan will be there.  You can return to town with her.”    

 “Must I go?”  Charlotte asked.  “I do not want to.”    

Alexander sighed, “You must.”  

“I know.”  

“I have errands to complete in London for the next few days.”  

“You despise London.  What could you possibly have to do there?” 

Alexander spoke as he stood and offered her a hand.  “I need a suit.  And I need to withdraw money from the bank for the wedding costs.”  He leaned into her and whispered, “And I need to visit the jeweller.”  

“Alexander, you do not!  I am content with something simple.”  

“I know,” he said as they buckled their saddles, “But you deserve far more.”  They rose onto Hannibal and Perses.  He reached for her hand. “And you shall have it.”  He put her dry, bleeding knuckles to his lips for a lingering kiss.  Not wishing to push their tired mounts, and wishing to extend their time as long as possible, they meandered home for dinner. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

The two couples stood in front of Heyrick House, saying goodnight. Samuel had barely the energy to put his arms around Susan.

“I shall never complain about a long day in court again. I was not meant for farm work. I thought I might fall asleep in my potatoes!”

Susan laughed as she examined his nails. “Still some dirt under here, I think.”

“I believe it shall be weeks before I can remove it all.” Samuel smirked. “I am sorry not to be returning with you.” He held her hands in front of his chest and pressed his forehead to hers. “It shall be our first evening apart.” He smiled and added quietly, “I am not one to readily admit an inability to perform, but this evening I fear you would be making love to a sleeping man.”

Susan leaned in and captured his lips gently. “My dear Samuel, all is well. I shall see you in the morning for our departure.”

Samuel captured her lips once more and handed her into the waiting carriage. “Goodnight.”

Alexander, meanwhile, was tightening every muscle in his body, attempting to remain steadfast in his efforts to place Charlotte into the carriage with dignity and gentlemanly respect. After nearly a week of being constantly in one another’s company, parting was a sweet sorrow. She stood before him expectantly, gazing at him with her lips parted. He leaned down to kiss her gently, but she opened her jaw and he felt her fingers run into the base of his hair. Holding her by the shoulders, he attempted to keep some distance between their bodies and pulled his lips back.

“Have fun with dresses and flowers. I shall return next week. Mrs. Wheatley has the information for the accounts and the ability to sign cheques for whatever you need. Spend whatever you like.”

“Thank you, for your trust in that regard.”

“Of course.”

“Be safe.” She reached up to brush away his errant curl. “And please, do not be too extravagant in your choices on my behalf.”

He remained silent, promising nothing as he handed her into the carriage.

Charlotte sat in the window seat, riding backward so that she could watch Alexander until he disappeared. She could not help but be reminded of when Sidney left for London after the fire and how her fate had changed. For a long time, she wished that she had kissed him that day, despite the public location, thinking that perhaps it would have reminded him of their love before accepting Mrs. Campion. The comparison was silly, she knew. Alexander was dedicated entirely to her. There was nothing more certain on Earth than that, and yet…

“Stop!” she shouted and the carriage halted. She opened the door and ran toward the house without closing it. Hand on her bonnet, she called his name. “Alexander!”

He met her, his stride wide and confident, arms outstretched. Their lips connected in a torrent of love, passion and joy–both delighted that, after so long, they had someone to wish farewell. The world fell away as they disappeared into one another, turning slowly on their intertwined legs. His hands were locked upon the sides of her face, hers upon his broad shoulders.

“Go.” Alexander spoke among her persistent kissing. Charlotte continued to keep her hands on his shoulders, tears on her cheeks and a broad smile on her face. Their chests rose and fell in tandem.

“Promise you will come to find me in town right away, if I am not here to greet you upon your return.”

Alexander brushed his thumbs on both cheeks and kissed her again. “I could not resist even if I wanted to.”

“I love you, Xander.”

“Fathomless,” he whispered in reply and closed his eyes, inhaling the scent of her to carry with him. “Now, go!”

Charlotte gave him one more quick peck and ran back for the carriage as she had come. In the carriage once more, she watched her love watching her, and laughed as Samuel moved up behind his brother for the express purpose of ruffling his hair.

* * *

Once in the carriage, Charlotte wiped her cheeks and looked at her friend. “It is silly, really. I should be incandescently happy. I am to marry Alexander in only two weeks. But it is very difficult to leave him. Today felt very much as though we are married already.”

“It is absolutely possible, my dear, to be wonderfully happy and yet experience moments of sadness. Normal, in fact.”

“Yes. I know, but I appreciate your support nonetheless.” Charlotte took a deep breath and availed herself of the opportunity to have a private moment with her friend and advisor. “Susan, might I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything my dear.”

“Well, it is rather personal I suppose, but as my mother is not present, I thought perhaps you might act in loco parentis.”

“I am flattered that you would consider me so,” Susan said, having a rather good idea of what question was coming.

“Well, I suppose…” Charlotte stumbled and tried again. “Alexander and I…” She failed on her second attempt as well.

“My dear, you sound as befuddled as when we met. Now,” Susan took her hand, “out with it.”

“It could be said that I have been engaging in behaviour unbecoming for a gentleman’s daughter. I…I have not lost my honour, but I think I would have, had Alexander been willing.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

“Yes. He was. He said that he did not want to worry about someone coming through the door or how long we would have together, and he would rather wait until we had unlimited time to get to know one another and to be together afterward.”

“As I said. Ever the gentleman.” If only her own husband had been so kind. The younger woman still looked befuddled, as though she had more to ask. Susan knew what it was. “Did your mother explain the details of what is to happen, before you were to marry Mr. Starling?”

“She said that a husband and wife share their bodies as a way of expressing their love and a way of completing God’s covenant to create children in His image. She also informed me that the mechanics of the act are exactly like what I see on the farm among the animals, except that it is done face to face so that we may kiss.”

“Ah, yes, well, let me see. To the first part, yes, it is a way of expressing love…and passion…and sometimes, believe it or not, anger.”

“I can imagine that,” Charlotte replied, thinking of how angry she was with Alexander for declaring his love after she was engaged to another, and how much she still wished to dive at his lips a second time at that moment, despite her anger.

“And as to the mechanics, I suppose that your first time together will be very much as your mother described, face to face, and that Alexander will treat you with the utmost care. But, a couple can also assume a position as the animals do and it can be quite fulfilling to do so.”

Charlotte’s eyes grew large. The carriage arrived in town as the driver said “Trafalgar House.”

Susan knew she could not leave her friend on that note. “Continue on please, driver. Miss Heywood will be paying me a visit at the Villas this evening.”

“Ma’am.”

Charlotte offered a smile of thanks to her friend. Once upstairs, Susan poured them each a glass of port and they sat beside one another on the settee. After a few sips, Susan took Charlotte’s hand between both of her own. “Charlotte, being together with the person that you love is…well there is nothing on earth like it. When your body joins with someone you truly love, everything else falls away and there are only the two of you. And, if your partner cares enough to touch you in just the right way, there is a heat that builds within you as you are overtaken with passion and you can think of nothing else except how much you love him and that love bursts from you, metaphorically, and you feel an exquisite pinnacle and a release. And then he does as well, and that is when he shares his seed with you.”

Charlotte’s mouth was open as she listened. When Susan finished, Charlotte looked downward, “I think perhaps I have experienced some of what you say already.”

“I am sure that you have. You are very much in love.”

“When Alexander kisses me or touches me, I believe I have felt the heat you describe, low over my womb, and I remain somewhat puzzled as to exactly how the mechanics of intercourse are designed to dissipate that heat, and yet I somehow know that Alexander is the only person who can remedy my predicament.”

Susan patted her hands. “Be patient with yourself, my dear, and with Alexander. Learning to release your passions can take a bit of time. Alexander is correct in that regard. You will need to be touched in certain ways and in certain places that feel good to you, and he will need to learn where those places are and how you want to be touched.”

Charlotte was quiet for a few more moments, summoning her courage to ask, “Will it hurt?”

Susan offered honesty. “It did for me, but only the first time.”

“Oh.” It was not the answer Charlotte hoped to hear.

“But, my husband was not a particularly kind man in many regards, including in our bed chamber. You will not have the same experience, I am certain.” Susan wanted to lighten the mood. “If he is even half as considerate as his brother in that regard, I am certain you are in good hands.”

Charlotte giggled slightly and squeezed her friend’s hands in return, “I am so happy that you have found someone to give you the love and constancy you deserve. And I’m even more pleased that it is Samuel! We shall be sisters! Neither of us thought of that when we met at Mrs. Maudsley’s Masquerade!”

Susan picked up her glass and raised it. “Here’s to women making decisions in favour of love and happiness.”

“Cheers.”

* * *

Georgiana Lambe sat in the parlour of the Parker Townhouse, reading real estate advertisements, finding herself in quite a predicament. She had always lived the life of a monied heiress. As a child she had been educated as a young woman of means was expected to be. Upon her father’s death, Sidney had enrolled her in the very best finishing school that would accept her and she had been alternately chaperoned by a string of irritatingly proper, god-fearing spinsters running boarding houses of only the most boring and prim young ladies.

She had once told Arthur that she spent her whole life under the gazes of others–constantly reminded that she was neither white nor black. In her current state, she felt homeless. She enjoyed the luxuries of her life. Certainly, she should not live extravagantly as she had in the weeks after the trial, but she could afford and wanted a nice home, and such homes did not exist in Stepney and Whitechapel. Still, if she chose to live outside of those areas, she would not be living among the people she wished to help–her people. At least, she hoped they were her people. But, the Parkers and the beau monde of Sanditon were also, it would seem, her people. With either decision she made, she would be setting herself apart from one group or the other.

And what of Otis? He was a man of his people. A man of distinction and reputation among those for whom he spoke. Marrying an heiress had caused complications for him as well. She had already heard some of his acquaintances say, “Well, he’s too good for the likes of us, now!” Were they simply teasing him? Were they jealous? Were they truly casting him out? They had yet to discuss it, but she knew it weighed on him.

Besides their personal predicaments, every real estate broker they met had refused to show them the properties they wished to see. Some had even refused to meet with them as clients in the first place!

Otis would return soon. This was the first day she had opted not to go with him to his meeting. They were six days married, and she missed him, but if she was honest, she was also enjoying a few hours of time to herself. She remembered lying on the blanket with him among the flowers, and under Charlotte’s watchful eye, thinking that she could never get enough of him. And now that they were married, it seemed that thought was true. She tried to remember a single hour in the previous six days when they did not have their hands on one another. Even during meals they were holding hands, rubbing ankles, feeding one another, or dropping their forks and napkins on the table, disappearing upstairs and returning for the rest of their meal later. Georgiana sighed, brushing the edge of her teacup with her forefinger as she gazed out of the parlour and into the foyer in remembrance.

The newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux had stepped across the threshold of the Parker townhouse to find the silence disconcerting. It wasn’t as if they’d had a busy day. It had been quite simple, really. Agnes had helped Georgiana to prepare at the townhouse and they’d hired a carriage for the ride across town to Stepney. Otis met them at the church and in a short and simple ceremony, they were married.

But the servants had gone home from the townhouse for the evening and were to remain absent for the following day, giving the place something of a silent, eerie quality. The cook had left a warm stew in the pot on the stove for their consumption, as well as a cold meal of breads and cheeses for morning.

Georgiana and Otis found themselves completely alone together for the first time. Both of them wanted to skip dinner and truly become husband and wife. Both were too nervous to be the first to say so.

“Are you hungry?” Otis asked.

“Not really. Are you?”

“Not really. May I take your coat and bonnet?”

“Yes.” She untied the ribbon and pulled the pins from her hair to hand him the hat. They simultaneously reached for the buttons of her coat. Their hands touched and sent a bolt of lightning through their bodies.

“My apologies,” Otis offered.

“No, it’s alright.” Georgiana replied. She continued shyly, “You are my husband now. I suppose it is alright for you to undress me.” She returned his hands to her buttons. They were shaking, though he tried not to show it. “Are you nervous?”

“Yes,” Otis let out a sigh of relief at finally admitting the truth.

“As am I. But we are nervous together.” Georgiana took both his hands.

“We are,” he smiled in confirmation, brushing her cheek in sweetness. “May I take you upstairs, Mrs. Molyneaux?”

“Yes, Mr. Molyneaux.”

Otis leaned in to kiss her as he had in church. They ascended the stairs hand in hand. Otis began to sing.

There is a ship sailing on the sea,
She’s watered deep as deep can be,
But not so deep as in love I am,
I care not if I sink or swim.

“Do you remember that day?” he asked her.

“Of Course. How could I forget you and your silly jump into the water! It was the third, and final time that you asked me to marry you.”

Otis reached up and began pulling pins from her hair. “For two years my thoughts of you have been never ending. My heart has always been yours, Georgiana. I have dreamed of this night so many times.”

“And what happened in your dream?”

“Well, in my dream, I kiss you, but we are not required to stop.”

“That sounds nice.” As he pulled the final pin from her hair, he slid his hands along her cheek and entwined his fingers in the hair her mother gave her. Their lips met and Georgiana felt a fire from him that she’d not felt before. They kissed and kissed and kissed until it seemed obvious that something else was supposed to happen. “And what happens next in your dream?” Georgiana enticed him, or at least she tried to, unaware during that first encounter that no enticement was necessary.

“Next, you remove my shirt.”

Georgiana giggled, “Shall I remove your coat and waistcoat first?”

“I was not wearing those in my dream,” he responded cheekily, removing the outer items himself in short order. Georgiana reached for his cravat. Her hands shook as his had when he’d reached for the buttons of her coat. Otis took them in his as she finished the final button. “Together forever.” He whispered as he kissed each knuckle. He did not stop there, kissing his way up her arm until he ran into the capped sleeve of her wedding gown. “May I have your permission to remove this?”

“Of course,” Georgiana was feeling less nervous and, if she dared to think it, excited.

Otis ran the delicate lace trim through his fingers. “This lace is very beautiful.” He walked his fingers up the short sleeves to the trim that adorned the neckline, tracing it with his fingers until his hand hovered just above her breasts. “But it is not half as beautiful as the lady it adorns.” Unable to resist any longer, he slid his palms over her breasts, under her arms and around to the middle of her back, feeling for the clasps that were in their way. He fiddled and fiddled with them, but, never having been a man to practise at such things, he paused their kiss to take her by the shoulders and turn her.

Georgiana noticed that the turning did not seem to interrupt his lips as he trailed them down the back of her neck instead, quickly unclasping her dress and sliding his hands inside along her stays. He slid them all the way around her bare sides to rest on her abdomen, just above the place where their bodies would unite. Wishing no longer to wait for him, Georgiana wriggled the dress off her shoulders and turned in his arms, immediately finding his mouth once again.

And then they were lost. Nervousness disappeared in favour of passion. Georgiana did not remember removing her stays and Otis did not remember removing his boots, but soon they were standing in only petticoat and trousers, and Georgiana found Otis kneeling before her, resting his head against the same spot he had placed his hands.

“You are a goddess,” he nearly whispered as he released the ribbons atop her silk stockings.

The doorbell pulled Georgiana from her daydream. The maid entered with a letter.

“For you, Mrs. Molyneaux.” She set the letter on a tray next to Georgiana. She recognized the writing as Samuel Colbourne’s. She took a sip of her tea, now cold, and broke the seal.

10 October 1820

Dear Miss Lambe,

I received your letter dated 5 October requesting assistance in finding a housing broker who will treat you fairly. I have acquaintance with a few such individuals, however, it would be best for us to visit them in person to make introductions rather than listing their names here. I plan to depart for London by late Wednesday evening or early Thursday morning, depending upon the coach schedule. Indeed, I may arrive myself before this letter reaches you. When I arrive, I shall call upon you so that we may discuss the matter in person. In the meantime, I urge patience in this matter. Such a large investment should not be made in haste.

Your Servant,
Samuel Colbourne

Georgiana sighed and set the letter on the table. She supposed it was the final letter she would ever receive that was addressed to Miss Lambe. That seemed to make it special somehow. She set it aside and grasped her teacup instead. The golden brown liquid was the second use of the leaves, which left it less palatable and weaker than she would have liked. She added another teaspoon of honey and looked once again around the home. Otis was to return from his meeting in about an hour. She looked forward to his return with a smile. She licked the honey from her lips and smiled at why she was looking forward to his return, allowing herself to return to her daydream.

Otis had slid her stockings down around her ankles and Georgiana had giggled because his fingertips on the inside of her thighs had tickled, yet, she did not want him to stop. Her knees buckled a bit but he stood and steadied her with arms on her waist.

“Georgiana?” He said. She was unsure if it was a question or if he was merely saying her name.

“Otis.” She replied and stepped back to examine him. She smiled. “You are very handsome, Mr. Molyneaux.”

Otis laughed out loud. “Have you really that much to compare to?”

“Why, yes. Of course. The men in Sanditon swim naked. I dare say I have seen the backsides of half the beau monde! They are supposed to be far enough away that we cannot see them, but the beach is not so very large.” Feeling brave, she sauntered back toward him, hand extended. As her palm made contact with his chest, she felt the muscles there tense. His breath hitched. His eyes were closed. She allowed her fingertips to explore down his breastbone to the tight muscles of his abdomen, then around his sides and up to his shoulder blades in the back. When he opened his eyes they were filled with hunger.

“Georgiana.” It was not a question any longer. It was a statement of longing and supplication to continue.

“Otis,” she replied, already half-way to his lips. They were so lost in one another that she barely noticed when he slipped her petticoat over her shoulders and it slid to the floor. She had no qualms about being naked before him, feeling only jealousy that she had not yet been granted the same privilege to see all of him. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing her breasts into his chest and feeling their abdomens press and release with their rapid breaths.

“Georgiana?” It seemed that neither of them was able to form a sentence any longer, instead communicating only through their names.

“Yes, Otis.” She nodded in permission and he lifted her to the bed. She resisted lying down, choosing instead to sit on the edge. “Wait. I want to see all of you, too.” Otis obliged her, removing his trousers and undergarments in a single motion. It was Georgiana’s turn to stop breathing. She gasped and, realising her mouth was open, closed it and swallowed.

“I take it your view of the men in Sanditon did not extend to the front side?”

Georgiana shook her head slowly, still staring and wondering how on earth he was supposed to fit himself inside of her; but, she was also very curious.

“May I touch you?” she asked. Otis nodded. First, she reached with a single finger, touching only the end. Otis sighed. She slid her finger up and down the side slowly. Otis whimpered. Georgiana was fascinated. She’d no idea how to describe this anatomy so long shrouded in mystery. It was stiff as a peg and yet the skin was soft and smooth, and it yielded to her attention despite its rigidity. As she touched him, she noticed a fire beginning to burn in the same area of her own body. Her excitement grew. She added a finger from her other hand, one on each side travelling the length of him until finally Otis reached down, took her entire hand and wrapped it around himself, his hand over hers. He moved their hands up and down as she watched the skin of his tip wrinkle and stretch beneath the attention.

Finally, Otis removed their hands, placed his on either side of her face, and refocused his attention on her mouth, leaning her back onto the pillow and lying at her side. His kisses were ferocious, deeper and harder than before. Every once in a while he released a groan from somewhere deep in his throat that would disappear into the depths of her own. Otis rolled above her. Her legs spread reflexively and she felt him rock against her.

Agnes had told her that the opening to the woman’s body for intercourse was the same that bled when she was on her rags and not to fear; it was meant for the purpose. She had also provided her daughter with the gift of a small vial of oil. Georgiana took a deep breath and once again gathered her courage. “Wait,” she said against his lips.

He recoiled. “Have I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” she smiled and demurred, “I rather like the feelings I am experiencing. But mama gave me a gift…to help.” She reached for the vial, which she had kept on the side table for days. “I am told that if I put this on you, it will help to ease the pain of entry.”

Otis smiled, his burden seemingly eased.

“May I?” she asked.

Otis nodded. She was delicate with her fingers once more, but took him in hand of her own accord this time, rubbing the oil around each inch of him. The hunger in Otis’ eyes returned.

“May I?” he asked in return. Georgiana nodded. “I would like to tell you that I am just as unfamiliar with the anatomy of a woman as you are with the anatomy of men. Do let me know if any of my actions are unpleasant.” He put oil on his fingers and gently ran them through the curly locks surrounding his prize.

When his fingers came in contact with the skin inside, Georgiana felt a shiver shoot up her spine. She found that her lips pursed in response and she made a noise she had never heard herself make before. Her heart began to race and she could feel her pulse between her legs. Every fibre of her being longed for him to touch the spot again. She felt the oil, silken against her, and her pelvis moved against his hand of its own accord. “Otis,” she said, breathlessly, “I believe I may be ready.”

Taking her last sip of tea, Georgiana laughed to herself. They had talked and talked and talked–finding their way so carefully to one another. Six days later they knew one another so well that verbal communication was unneeded and sometimes unwelcome. Indeed, there was no feeling she enjoyed more than that of her husband’s presence inside of her, no oil required.

“Georgiana?” She heard his voice as he entered the front door. She set down her teacup and sauntered toward him. “How was your afternoon, my darling?” he asked as he bent to kiss her.

Saying nothing, she took his hand and led him to the stairs.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 

“Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux, a visitor,” the maid said.  

Georgiana looked up.  “Mr. Colbourne!  It is good of you to call.”  

“Mrs. Molyneaux, I received your letter.” 

 “Please.” Otis motioned to the parlour. “Join us.”  

Samuel accepted the offer and sat on the blue sofa.  “So, I gather from your letter that real estate brokers do not believe a former slave should be allowed to live anywhere he chooses,” Samuel began.  

“Even when he has become a successful merchant in his own right,” Otis replied.  

“And married an heiress,” Georgiana added. 

“And this surprises you?” Samuel asked, his tone implying that it should not.

“My general experience with Englishmen,” Georgiana continued, “is that money speaks louder than other forms of communication.”  

“And so, pardon my saying so, but you feel that money should erase your heritage in their eyes?” 

Georgiana showed her disdain for the situation.  “I am asking why our heritage should matter when we have the money for the purchase!” 

“You wish to pay cash?  Have the Parker’s offered you no financial education whatsoever?  You need a mortgage, Mrs. Molyneaux.”  

“We have enquired with several banks,” Otis outlined their journey, “They offer us the same answer as the brokers.”

“And that is?”  Samuel asked.

“That they only finance properties in certain areas of the city and as we will not be living in those areas they cannot offer us a mortgage.” 

“And, by the look of you, they are assuming Whitechapel or Stepney, I suppose?”  

“They are.  My current residence is in Stepney,” Otis replied.     

“I see. Well.  Do you wish to live in Whitechapel or Stepney or elsewhere?”

“That is an apt question, Mr. Colbourne,” Georgiana interjected, “And one that I have been asking myself for days.”  She took a deep breath.  “I like the comforts of my life, Mr. Colbourne.  The type of housing I would purchase for myself does not exist in Whitechapel or Stepney.  Yet, the people we wish most to help are there.  The Sons of Africa are centred there.  But, Mr. Wilberforce lives in Battersea on the other side of the river!  If he can affect change from there, why cannot we?”    

Samuel nodded.  “You could.  And if it is the white members of Parliament you most wish to affect, then living among them would be a fine choice.  That is easy enough.  We can beat the brokers and bankers at their own game by finding a white buyer sympathetic to your cause, who would purchase the home you desire and then transfer possession to you without the use of a broker.”  

“We do not like the idea of relying upon anyone else,” Otis stated and Georgiana nodded in concurrence. “Nor should we have to.”   

Samuel continued.  “Well, you possess the funds to make a large investment, if you wish.”   

“And what would that mean?” Georgiana asked.   

“If the housing in which you wish to live does not exist where you want to live, build it.”  

Georgiana was surprised.  “Build it?” 

“Build it.  Your former guardian is a real-estate investor.  Construct a building of apartments.  You would live in one and be landlords to the building.  You could live the life you wish while improving the availability of suitable housing for those you wish to help, providing them with a fair and honest landlord in the process.”  

Georgiana and Otis smiled at one another.

“I must admit, sir,” Otis spoke in a reserved tone, “I am a bit ashamed to say that I did not think of that option.”  

“Well, I don’t imagine such an opportunity has ever presented itself to you before.  Do not accept it as a lack of vision Mr. Molyneaux, but merely a lack of experience.  And while banks may be reluctant to give you a private mortgage in those areas, a commercial mortgage would be very much to their liking.”  

Otis nodded.  Georgiana took his hand.  “We will think on it,” she said. 

Samuel finished his final gulp of tea.  “Here is the address of my legal premises and the address of Colbourne House.  Please call upon me when you have made a decision as to how you would like to proceed.”  

They all stood.  

“Thank you, Mr. Colbourne,” Otis offered his hand.  Georgiana curtseyed.    

Samuel looked at them squarely.  “Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux, Charlotte is to be my sister-in-law.  I hope we will see one another many times in our lives.  I also hope that on those occasions, you will see fit to call me Samuel.”  He popped his hat onto his head and tipped the brim.  “I will see you soon.”

***

Charlotte approached the front door of Heyrick Park.  Alexander had told her that she was to walk in without knocking, that it was to be her home as well, and that she was welcome at any time day or night.  

It felt odd.  

Nonetheless, she reached for the handle and took a breath, excited to see the girls.  

“Leonora?  Augusta?” She called as she entered.  

Leo came running from the breakfast room.  “Mama!”  Leo pulled Charlotte by the hand to the breakfast table. “Augusta, look!  Mama is here!” 

“She is not your mother yet, Leo.  Good morning, Miss Heywood.”  She returned to her novel. 

Charlotte wondered at Augusta’s formality but decided to return it, not wishing to begin their day with an argument. “Good morning, Miss Markham.”  Charlotte handed her hat and gloves to the maid, who curtseyed to her.  That, too, felt odd.  Another servant pulled out her chair.  “Thank you,” she said.  She really did need to speak with Mrs. Wheatley about this.  She was plenty capable of doing these things on her own.  She was, however, quite hungry after her brisk morning walk and reached for bread, which she was determined to butter herself!  “So, girls, are you ready to visit Griffin’s today?”   

Leo nearly bounced from her chair.  “Oh, yes!  Girls should wear whatever suits the purpose and for the wedding I am very excited to wear a dress!”  

Charlotte smiled, “I am glad.”  She looked across the table at her soon to be niece, who did not react to her statement and remained with her nose in her novel.  Charlotte decided that she needed to dismiss Leo for a moment in order to speak with Augusta, but how to do so gently?  Leo’s plate was empty, implying she was finished eating.  “Are you finished eating, Leo?” she asked.  The child nodded.  “Good.  Then why don’t you go upstairs and change into clothes for town, including stockings, a petticoat, and boots.  You will want to have all of your layers for your fitting.”  Leonora disappeared and Charlotte turned to Augusta.  “Augusta, would you be kind enough to put down your book and have a conversation with me?”  

Augusta rolled her eyes and begrudgingly did as she was asked.  

“Are you not excited to be going to the dressmaker today?  You are normally so enamoured of new clothing.”  Charlotte smiled and tried to entice her soon-to-be niece.  “I shall require your help to spend my unlimited budget.”  

The corners of Augusta’s mouth turned slightly at the prospect.  “I am excited, yes, but…” 

Charlotte took her hand, already knowing what was bothering her.  

Augusta continued.  “...But what if he is in town.”  

“Then we shall walk past him with our heads held high and pretend he does not exist.  You cannot let his presence intimidate you, or he has won, and I know that you refuse to be defeated.”  Charlotte squeezed her hand.  “It will get better, day by day.  I promise.  Now, have you finished?”  

“Yes.” 

“Good.  Mrs. Wheatley, will you kindly have the carriage brought around?”  

“Of course.  But before you leave, ma’am, Mr. Colbourne wanted you to know that he left something for you on the desk in his study.”  

Xander.  What on earth had he done now?  Charlotte stood and meandered down the hall. 

On the desk was a pile of five letters, each addressed to her, each with a day of the week written at the top.  

“He has written me a letter for each day he will be gone,” she said to no one, smiling.  She sat in his chair, odd occurrence number five-hundred-sixty-two of the day thus far, and broke the seal.  

My Dearest Charlotte, 

It is Thursday.  I am in London.  You are in Sanditon.  I sincerely hope there will not be many times in our marriage when that is the case.  I am, no doubt, enduring the measuring tape of a Bond Street tailor of Susan’s choosing while you are examining fabrics and patterns at Griffin’s with Augusta, Leonora, and Mrs. Parker.  I will remind you that you are to do so without concern for cost and have reminded Augusta of the same, for I know she is far more likely than you to willingly spend on extravagance.   

I am writing this in advance and yet I know it is not at all a supposition to say that I miss you and that I am counting the hours until we are reunited.  I counted them the day of our picnic in summer, attempting to calm my fluttering heart during the interminable night until tomorrow arrived.  I counted them the evening you first allowed me the honour of your lips, longing to feel them again.  I counted them last week after returning you to Trafalgar House, overjoyed at the turn in our circumstances.  I could not be more pleased or proud that I will share a lifetime of tomorrows with you.   

Until Tomorrow Then, 

Alexander  

P.S. If you wish, please stay the night at Heyrick Park to ease your burden for the morning’s funeral.  

Charlotte held the letter to her chest and sighed.  It was not poetry, nor was it filled with flowery prose about love and beauty.  It was practical.  Heartfelt.  Honest.  It was Alexander.  She’d no doubt he’d poured over every thoughtful word.  

She folded the letter and put it into her reticule, knowing she would wish to read it throughout the day.  She stood to collect the girls and head into town.  ***

Samuel opened the door to Colbourne House to find three trunks in the entry.  He looked to the right, into the parlour, and found Susan sitting by the fire and sipping her tea.  

“Dearest?”  he asked.  “What’s all this?” 

“That,” she replied, “is all that I own.”  She let out a sigh.  Tears threatened, but she pushed them back.  She finally had what she desired in Samuel.  She would not regret.  “I arrived at my apartment to find a letter.  His majesty expected my immediate appearance at Buckingham Palace upon my arrival.  Rather than reply, I began packing my trunks.  Of course, he has spies among my staff.  An hour later, the henchmen arrived and I was whisked away over my strong objections.”    

“You were taken to the palace against your will?”  Samuel’s ire showed in his gritted teeth.

“Well, I did not fight them physically, if that’s what you’re asking.  I went willingly once I realised I did not have a choice.”

Samuel, suddenly feeling reticent, sat beside her at a greater distance than she was expecting. “Might I ask, what did you say to him upon your arrival?” 

She took his hand.  “I told him that I am not a ‘possession to be picked up or dropped on a whim’ and that I am terminating our agreement with immediate effect,” she said proudly.  Samuel beamed.  “I requested the remainder of the day to evacuate my belongings, promising to take only my clothing and those items in the house which did not originate with him or his funds.  And now, here I am.”    

Samuel had never been so incensed, or felt so helpless.  “I should have been there.  I apologise that I was not.”  

“My dearest Samuel, it is far better that he does not know who you are, at least for now.  Let him be angry with me.  As far as he knows, he dismissed me and then I refused to return upon request.  It shall be a lovers’ quarrel in the press and it will pass as he finds new amusements and then we will be free to go about our lives.”  

“What can I do?”  

“Nothing.”  Susan replied.  “Just sit with me.  Remind me of all the good reasons that I made this choice.  Just be you.”

Samuel sat beside her and pulled her into him.  She hissed slightly and winced.  

“Susan?” His voice was laced with suspicion. “Are you hurt?” 

“It is nothing.  Only a small bruise on my arm where a henchman manhandled me into the carriage.” 

“Susan, is that the only way that you were…hurt?” Samuel pulled back to look at her squarely. 

“Yes.”  

Samuel gave her a disbelieving, lawyerly look.   

“He did not hurt me, Samuel.  At least, not in that way.  He is an extravagant, philandering, obese fool, but he is not a rapist.” 

“Well, at least he draws the line somewhere.”  

“They don’t call him ‘the first gentleman of England’ for nothing.”  She offered a small grin, which Samuel gently kissed away. 

“I love you,” he whispered.  “Your courage is astounding.”    

“Thank you,” she replied before nestling into his shoulder in the quiet peace of the afternoon.  

***

My Dearest Alexander, 

I was so appreciative of your letter today.  I have decided that I shall write you a reply each day for you to read upon your return.  I daresay that I was already missing you this morning as the staff began referring to me as ma’am and doing things for me.  I must confess that it was quite disconcerting.  Your letter helped me to keep my focus and reminded me that this is my life, now. 

The girls and I went with Mary Parker to Griffin’s today.  The first few fabrics that Mrs. Griffin, Mary, and Augusta chose were lovely, but far too extravagant for my taste.  I imagine that Georgiana would have liked them.  After nearly an hour of refusing their suggestions, I found a drawing in one of Mrs. Griffin’s books.  She brought some fabrics to match the pattern and suggested some details that could be added.  After that, my dress was quickly settled.  I believe it to be elegant rather than extravagant, and I do hope that when the day comes you will agree.  Of course, we also chose patterns for the girls.  Augusta seemed pleased, despite her recent melancholy, and Leo could only be described as over the moon about the entire affair.  

But, the most interesting and unexpected event of the day happened before the dress fitting.  We arrived at Trafalgar House to find Lady Denham visiting with Mary.  As we entered we could hear them discussing our wedding!  Lady Denham was informing Mary that the Denhams and the Colbournes have hosted one anothers’ wedding breakfasts for seventy-five years and she “did not see any reason why that should stop now!”  She said that she had received a letter from you requesting flowers from her greenhouse for the ceremony.  She then informed me that the wedding breakfast would be hosted at Sanditon House and “that was the end of it.”  When she left, Mary, the girls, and I had a good laugh before heading out for our errands.  Upon our return to Heyrick, I told Mrs. Wheatley of Lady Denham’s demands and she seemed rather confounded, as she had already begun preparations.  I believe she will pay a visit to the butler and housekeeper at Sanditon House tomorrow to put things in order.    

Thank you for your kind suggestion that I sleep at Heyrick Park to prepare for tomorrow.  It was a good one.  I am therefore writing this letter by candlelight from our bed, looking next to me to find you absent. I cannot wait to be your wife and reach out to find you there.  

Until Tomorrow, My Love. 

Charlotte     

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Charlotte awoke from the finest night’s sleep she had ever experienced.  It had been filled with a soft mattress, even softer sheets, and the finest of dreams in which she and Alexander were bounding across the park on horses, hooting and hollering to their hearts’ content before falling into the tall grasses of Heyrick Park, lips joined.  She felt the fine linens around her before opening her eyes.  She smiled, remembering that she was not at Trafalgar and she certainly was not in Willingden, where nothing so fine as these sheets existed.  

Last evening, before coming to bed, she had retrieved Alexander's letter for Friday from the study.  She reached out her left hand and found it, laying in Alexander’s place.  

My Dearest Charlotte, 

I imagine that today will be difficult for you in your first official duty as Mistress of Heyrick Park.   It pains me not to be beside you in these circumstances.  Funerals are challenging, and supporting a child grieving a mother is especially difficult.  I do know something of that.  I am certain that you are supporting young Joanna with the care and poise that you always demonstrate in such situations, far exceeding my own capacity to do so.  Those qualities are but two that I admire in you.    

It is said that love bears and endures all things, Charlotte.  I have never known love like that before.  I believe ours will.  Know that you carry my love with you today and always.  

Until Tomorrow, 

Alexander

“I always carry you with me,” she whispered to the letter.  “Know that you carry my love as well.”  She pressed her lips to the paper.  

Absurdity.  She had slept with a letter and now she was kissing it.  Honestly.  If Alison displayed such behaviour, Charlotte would have told her just how silly she thought it was. 

She rose to dress.  She had borrowed a bonnet with a black ribbon from Mary along with a black spencer.  Charlotte had, thankfully, never had occasion to own one.  She wore her simple light blue dress with the black spencer atop and felt she looked appropriately modest.  A knock at the door startled her.  

“Come in.” Her voice had a sing-song quality that surprised her.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Wheatley said.  “Do you require any assistance with dressing this morning?” 

Charlotte choked back the giggle that emerged.  Why on earth would she need help dressing?  She had dressed herself for her entire life.  Perhaps now was a chance to address the current changes with Mrs. Wheatley.  “Mrs. Wheatley, would you kindly sit for a moment?”  Charlotte motioned to one of the chairs near the window, then adopted a position in the chair opposite.  “May I speak plainly, Mrs. Wheatley?” 

“Of course, ma’am.” 

“I must admit to finding the behaviour of the staff disconcerting.”  Mrs. Wheatley looked offended and Charlotte immediately raised a hand to request more time to explain.  “It is not that I feel anyone is doing wrong.  On the contrary, I am well aware that, under your careful watch, the staff at Heyrick acts with only the utmost care and concern.  What I mean is, while it is true that I am a gentleman’s daughter, we were not wealthy.  I am one of twelve, Mrs. Wheatley.  There was no grandeur in our home and we had no staff in the house, only on the farm.  For most of my life, I have done my own serving, and I have served my parents and my brothers and sisters.  I know how to light a stove.  I cook my own eggs.  For that matter I also gather them!  I wash, wring, and hang my own clothing.  I brush and tack my own horse.  As a result, I find I am unsure of how to answer you when you ask me if I require assistance.  I do not require assistance, but am I supposed to accept it in favour of protocol?” 

The older woman smiled. “You may do as you please, of course, ma’am.  You are the mistress of the house.”  

“Yes, but will I be offending the staff if I refuse their assistance?”  

Mrs. Wheatley was decidedly silent.

“Mrs. Wheatley?” 

“It is not my place to tell you one way or the other, ma’am.”  

“Please, Mrs. Wheatley.  I spoke plainly and I request that you do the same.  You have worked here since you were fourteen.  Heyrick Park is your home as much as it is ours.  I do not want to disrupt the systems that you have developed with such diligent care.”  She took a deep breath.  “I am seeking your counsel and you are free to give it, now and in the future.”  

The elder woman paused before offering a decidedly diplomatic response.  “Perhaps you could inform me the evening before by thinking about the following day and how the staff can best help make the family’s day pass smoothly.  Let me know those things and I will have the staff do those.  In that way, you may complete whatever tasks you choose independently without interruption.”  

Charlotte nodded.  “Yes.  That is a fine start, Mrs. Wheatley.  And if at any time I do something that you feel is amiss, please do not hesitate to tell me.” 

“As you wish, ma’am.  Now, as for this morning?”  

“Please be sure that Leo and Augusta are awake and preparing for the day.  We should have a good breakfast before we depart, because it may be a while before we are able to take luncheon, and perhaps you might send one of the maids to assist me with my hair?  I wish it to be styled more formally today.”  

“Ma’am.”  Mrs. Wheatley smiled gently and nodded as she exited. 

Charlotte looked into the mirror and sighed.  She spoke to herself.  “Do not let it change you, Charlotte Heywood.”  

***

Samuel Colbourne awoke, unable to move his arm.  Susan’s head pressed into his shoulder all night had left it temporarily paralyzed.  He felt her stir and leaned down to kiss her head.  “Good morning, Dearest.  How did you sleep?” 

“Mmmm,” Susan spoke groggily.  “Like a well-loved woman.”  She turned to her stomach with a smile.  She leaned up to kiss him.  Her tongue parted his lips.  He wanted to roll her over and be sure she knew how well-loved she was, but when he tried to roll, his arm would not go with him.  Instead he smiled at her, tucking her brown locks behind her ear with his working arm.  

“After your trying day yesterday, you deserve anything you wish, My Lady.”  

“And if I only wish for you?” 

“Lucky me.”  Samuel replied in awe of the woman who rolled above him and took exactly what she wanted.  He sat up, pulling her tightly into him and finding just the right angle to send them careening over a cliff simultaneously.  When they finished, they continued to cling to one another.  Samuel felt her bend her knees around his back as he began to soften inside of her.  His breath reflecting beck from her breasts still felt on fire. 

“A good morning indeed,” Susan said.  “So, what’s on the docket today?” she asked before rolling onto her back beside him and letting the cool air of the room temper the fire in her own lungs.  

Samuel snuggled back under the white linens.  “I have two clients today at the office.  And, although he has not said as much, I believe that Xander would appreciate your assistance while making decisions at the jeweller.  I don’t believe he has been there since he went shopping for Lucy a dozen years ago.”

“Lucy was his first wife?  Leo’s mother?”

“Yes.”  

Susan rolled onto her side to prop her head on her hand and elbow.  “You said you had greatly wronged your brother in the past.  Did it have something to do with her?”  

“Yes.  When I decided not to accept the estate from our father, she was forced to move to Heyrick Park with Xander.  He, of course, was excited by the prospect.  He hates London.  He always has.  But Lucy was very social and she found it terribly isolating.  She often chose to remain in London when Xander left, staying with her sister, Augusta’s mother.  After Leo was born, Lucy knew she would not be returning to London for quite some time.  She was filled with melancholy and one day wandered about the estate in the rain.  She never recovered.”      

“It sounds as though they were mismatched from the start.”  

“They were.  But, Xander is practical and he was a second son from an estate that was deep in debt.  He knew he had to marry money.  Lucy was beautiful, charming, and came with a dowry of twenty-thousand.  It seemed the right choice at the time.”  He donned a shameful look.  

“You needn’t be so hard on yourself.  You are not a farmer, Samuel.  You would have been miserable.  You said yourself that you could not run Heyrick Farm the way that he does.  And despite whatever heartache he has suffered, he has a beautiful daughter and is about to have a wife perfectly suited to him in every way.”  She reached down to stroke his face.  “You must give yourself some amount of grace.”  

“I fear I have always given myself too much,” he said, looking rather affected.  Susan leaned down to kiss him, putting an end to such defeated conversation and setting a more positive tone for the day.  She rose from the bed to don her silk robes and it was Samuel’s turn to lay on his side with his head propped, admiring the view.  “You are…”  He gathered his words.  “You are Beauty herself.  Beauty and grace.”  He stood and slipped his arms around from behind her. “And I am one very lucky man.”  He planted a kiss on her neck below her ear.  “Are you sure there is nothing that you need today, after your trying day yesterday?”  

“No.  I believe a lovely day with your brother will serve the purpose just fine.  I shall enjoy shopping for Charlotte.”  

He spoke over her shoulder.  “I know that you do not wish to marry until the scandal with His Majesty has passed.  Indeed, you may not wish to marry at all, given that it would mean relinquishing your title.  But, I want you to know that it is my intention to care for you as though we are.”

She turned her head and nuzzled into his cheek.  “I know, and I am most grateful.”

***

Charlotte arrived at the Battlesford home to find Henry and Reginald Battlesford dressed in their Sunday finest.  “Mr. Battlesford!  Reggie!  You cannot be out of bed yet!  Doctor’s orders!” 

“The doctor can say what he likes, “ Henry stated emphatically.  “I’ll be damned if I am missing my Sarah’s funeral!”  He coughed profusely.  Reginald looked at Charlotte, his eyes begging her to help his father to see reason.  Charlotte could tell that ordering the man to do anything would not go well.  

“Reggie, would you be kind enough to take your sister outside.  I would like to speak with your father for a moment.”  A thankful Reggie took Joanna by the hand and departed. 

Charlotte sat on the small wooden settee that adorned the middle of the Battlesford’s main room, hoping it would inspire Mr. Battlesford to do the same.  He followed her lead, relief on his face apparent, despite trying to hide his exhaustion.  “Mr. Battlesford, before I came to Heyrick, I had another love.  He died in Antigua, apart from his family and those who loved him.  We did not get to bury him or have a funeral to say goodbye, so I can understand your desire to be sure that your wife is honoured by those who loved her.  But, you are in no condition to do anything more than sit and grieve.  You will need to allow others to carry the coffin.  You are also not in any condition to trek all the way to the church.  I am going to return to the stables and send the carriage for you and the children.” 

“I cannot ride in the master’s carriage!” The very idea was impossible.  

“You can and you will.  Please, it is the least we can do for you and your family, on this day.”

Henry shook his head, unconvinced of the propriety of such a thing. 

Charlotte was firm but kind.  “The last thing your children need is to lose their father because he was too stubborn to accept assistance from those who care for him.  I’ve no doubt that, were Mr. Colbourne able to be here, he would insist upon the same.”  

Henry Battlesford nodded quietly.  “Thank you, Mistress.” 

“Good.”           

***

Susan and Alexander strolled down Bond Street, London, looking every bit the part of people who could afford the purchase they were about to make.  She had a parasol over her shoulder, he was in his grey top hat.  Nods and greetings of “Lady Susan” were offered as they walked, followed by passing whispers of “Who was that man?”  They were having a jolly good time laughing about it when they came to the door of Thomas Neal & Co. Jewellers.  

“I’ve not been to this one,” Susan said.  “His Majesty always preferred Rundell & Bridge on Fleet Street.”  

“Well,”  Alexander opened the box he had brought, to reveal the name inside, “This was purchased here, a dozen years ago.  My hope is to trade it, and with some additional funds purchase something new and-” 

He took a deep breath to push away his nerves. 

Susan slipped her arm through his.  “Something uniquely Charlotte?”  Susan completed his sentence for him.

He patted her arm in thanks.  “Yes.  Something uniquely Charlotte.”

“Well, I’m sure we can manage that.”  

Alexander opened the door for her.  “My Lady.”   They entered the small shop that had a glass display case in the middle and walls lined with dressers of small drawers.  Every drawer had a lock.  Some dressers had mirrors while others had wooden busts atop, displaying jewels. As they absorbed their surroundings, the whispers began again.  They heard only snippets of what was whispered.  “His Majesty’s paramour…Lady de Clement…is he the King's man or the new lover?”  Finally, Susan made up her mind to end the madness. 

“Yes.  I am Lady Susan de Clement.  No, I am not here to spend His Majesty’s money.  No, this is not the King’s man.  This is Mister Alexander Colbourne and he is here to purchase a parure for his new bride, who happens to be a very dear friend of mine.  Now, would you prefer to make some money today or to stand around gossiping.”  

“My most humble apologies, my lady.”  Mr. Neal bowed.  “Of Course.”  He turned to Alexander, “How might we help you today, Mr. Colbourne?”  

Alexander presented the box he had with him.  “I purchased these in this shop many years ago, for my first wife, now deceased.  I wish to know how you would value them and to trade them, along with additional funds, for an elegant set for my new bride.”  

Mr. Neal opened the box and removed the round emerald, set in gold and pearls.  “It is a beautiful piece.  Would your new wife not wish to have it?” 

“The future Mrs. Colbourne is the picture of elegance, but it is a simple, understated elegance, not gaudy.  I fear this piece does not suit her tastes.”

Susan smiled.  Why was she even present?  He clearly did not need her, nor the scandal that seemingly followed.  

“Very well, sir.  Would you care to browse while I examine this piece for value?”  

“Yes, we would.”  

Mr. Neal called for his assistant.  “Geoffrey, would you be so kind as to unlock the drawers for Mr. Colbourne and Lady de Clement.”  

Geoffrey did just that.  Alexander began peering in each velvet-lined, wooden drawer.  Each contained a parure, some with bracelets, some without.  Each time he opened a drawer, Geoffrey would say something similar to, “Any lady would surely be pleased with a piece of such beauty,” to which Alexander would reply with a shake of his head. 

On the other side of the room, Susan was similarly engaged, opening each drawer and then closing it in rejection.  The friends met in front of the final dresser, both taking deep breaths before opening the top drawer.  Were they going to be able to find anything meeting the definition of “uniquely Charlotte?”   Their faces went from dour to beaming in an instant.  

“Elegantly simple,” Susan said.

“Refined, not gaudy,” Alexander replied.  He reached into his pocket to pull out a small box.   He laid the ring it contained in the drawer with the necklace and earrings.  “Charlotte,” he whispered.  

Susan lifted the ring.  “It is lovely, Alexander.  Where did you get it?”  

“According to Mrs. Wheatley, it was my mother’s.”  

“Charlotte will adore it,” she put her hand on his arm, “as you adore her.”  Susan smiled at her new brother.  “I am so pleased, Alexander, for the two of you.  I have never seen two people more well-matched.”    

Alexander stood in the middle of the shop looking something like a love-struck puppy.  Susan spoke for him.  “We will take this one, Mr. Neal.”  

“A fine choice, My Lady.”

***

Otis growled as he read the latest edition of The Chronicle . 

“What is it, Dear Heart?” Georgiana asked.

“Have you read today’s commentaries?  The editors publish pro-slavery and abolitionist writings side by side, as though they are of equal moral value and equally valid!  Some days I feel as though we have made no progress whatsoever, nor ever shall!” 

“Did you write today’s letter?” 

“No.  Johnson wrote it.  It is good.  It is filled with facts and figures describing how allowing workers to earn a wage would improve British status worldwide.” 

“It sounds esoteric, not heartfelt.” 

“Indeed.” 

“Perhaps…” Georgiana paused.  

“Georgiana?”  

She stood from her chair, pacing with a flash of excitement.  “Perhaps we should write a piece taking The Chronicle to task for their parallel publishing habits.  It is easy enough for them to say they are neutral when no one challenges them, or when they are publishing economic arguments.  But perhaps we should let it be known that neutrality should not be the deciding factor in what they publish, but rather morality .”  

Otis put his paper down with alacrity.  “A stupendous thought Georgiana!  We must not only speak the truth but also call to task those institutions of print that would give any voice to those who are not.  The practice of neutrality over morality must also be defeated!”  He ran to the desk and picked up his pen, dipping it and furiously writing.  After a few minutes of hurried scribbling to get his thoughts down, Otis finally looked up to find his bride staring out the window.  She was suddenly reserved.  

“Georgiana?”  

She did not reply.  Georgiana was not sure what to do, suddenly finding herself quite exasperated with him.    

“Is something amiss?”  He stood to cross the room.  

“Yes!” She did not elaborate, unsure how.  She did not wish to argue in the first week of marriage, but at the same time she very much wished to argue with him!  

“Are you going to tell me?”  He finally asked.  

Georgiana breathed deeply and took his hand.  “Did it occur to you that I might wish to write the letter to The Chronicle ?  Or that perhaps we might write it together?  It was as though you forgot I was in the room.  It was my idea, after all.”  

Otis looked properly chastened.  He was not used to having a partner.  If he was honest, for a brief time, he had forgotten she was in the room.  Suddenly, he put his hand at the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers with as much fury as he had been writing moments before.  

Georgiana tried to speak, but the pressure of his lips made it difficult.  She put a palm to his chest.  “Otis.”  She tried a second time. “Otis. Why are you kissing me?” 

“Because I love you.”  He continued kissing her.  “I love your brilliance.”  Still kissing, more deeply.  “And your candour.  You are not afraid to put me in my place!  We should absolutely write the letter together.  I am sorry.”  

Georgiana responded by wrapping her arms around him and accepting the pressure of his tongue against hers.  “Otis.  Shall we write, then?”  

“Yes, but…”  he looked at her in the silent plea of a new husband who is finally allowed to act upon feelings of lust.  She smiled, pushed him past her, and up the stairs with her palms at his back. 

***

My Dearest Alexander, 

I want to thank you again for your kind suggestion that I remain at Heyrick Park last evening.  It was indeed helpful and I was able to have an important conversation with Mrs. Wheatley this morning regarding my change in status and relationship with the staff.  I was raised with the belief that I should never ask someone else to complete a task I can do myself, and yet, that is exactly what I will be doing as MIstress of Heyrick Park.  It is confounding, My Love, and I remain unsure what to make of it.  For now, Mrs. Wheatley has suggested that she and I will meet each evening to discuss the following day and that she will make suggestions as to how certain tasks have previously been handled and I can make decisions from there.  I happily admit to finding her guidance most reassuring.  

The funeral was difficult, but not in the ways I expected.  Such events are always sad, of course, and this one was no different.  I’ve no doubt that the Battlesfords shall continue to need our support as they adjust to their lives without a mother and wife.  The baby continues to stay with Mrs. Filkins.  I was thinking, perhaps, to advertise for a wet nurse so that the baby does not need to be separated from her family.  I expected to act in support of little Joanna today, but children are resilient and Leo seemed to take it as her personal mission to befriend Joanna, as they have the loss of a mother in common.  They were soon playing hide and seek behind the trees and walls of the churchyard.  Instead, the challenge that met me today was Mr. Battlesford’s stubbornness.  I arrived this morning to gather Joanna only to find Mr. Battlesford and Reginald fully dressed and intending to walk to the church.  I tried to put myself in his position as I knew that if it were you being laid to rest, not even the fury of the devil himself would keep me away.  Still, he was in absolutely no condition to leave his home, let alone make the nearly two-mile walk to the church.  We came to an agreement that I would return home and send the carriage for them.  Mr. Battlesford, of course, objected to this on the grounds of its impropriety, but I assured him that, were you present, you would insist upon the same.  It felt like the right decision.  I hope that it was.

This afternoon, Mrs. Wheatley and I called upon Sanditon House to further discuss Lady Denham’s insistence in hosting our wedding breakfast.  Alexander, she did not berate me during the whole of the conversation! I do not recall a single conversation with her when she did not comment upon my looks, or my clothing, or my many brothers and sisters, never failing to point out the difference in our status or my lack of a husband.  Now, it appears that in her eyes I have graduated to a higher status by virtue of marrying you.  It is infuriating.  Still, for whatever reason, she is intent upon hosting and I agreed.   I know it is unorthodox, but Xander we really must invite Mrs. Wheatley to the wedding as a guest.  She is practically your mother.   She cannot attend if she is organising the breakfast.  Additionally, it occurs to me that having guests at Heyrick would delay our ability to act as husband and wife should following their wedding and I strongly oppose such a possibility!    

At Leo’s request, I am staying again this evening.  It seems that she will avail herself of any opportunity to have one of her parents present at bedtime.  I am concerned that my abrupt departure last summer may have instilled in her a fear that I may do so again, despite my reassurances to the contrary.  Upon your return, we should endeavour to help her be more confident in the situation and to know that nothing shall tear our family apart. 

Nothing.  

Forever Yours, 

Charlotte

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Dearest Charlotte, 

By today, I am certain that I have had enough of London.  I will have visited the tailor, the bank, and the jeweller, and will be waiting anxiously for the tailor to finish his work and for a space on the mail coach to become available for my return.  I have decided to endure this, despite the discomfort, because I will have many things of value with me.

As I write this, I am looking out the window of my study.  Luna is at my feet.  I have spent so many years, Charlotte, in just this manner, with a dog at my feet and a quill in my hand.  On June sixth past, you walked into this room and caused me to doubt everything I thought I knew.  You have changed our lives forever, Charlotte, and we shall be forever grateful. 

Until Tomorrow,

Alexander  

***

Alexander tossed and turned in his bed. He hated London. He had everything he needed. He was simply waiting for the tailor to complete his suit. That would be Monday at the earliest. How would he bide his time? 

He heard laughing from down the hall. He was jealous. He wanted Charlotte. He missed her. He missed her reassuring presence. He missed her smile, her lips, her body. God he missed everything about her. He ached. He fought the urge to touch himself. 

He turned his attention instead to thinking what she might be doing. Had she found his letters? More importantly, did she like them? He loved poetry, but he was no poet himself. About to part from her that morning for the first time since their reunion, he’d found the feelings of unsureness creeping back. He pondered all of the ways he could demonstrate his commitment to her, his love for her, and assure her of his reliability.  The idea of the letters came to him and he had written them in haste, hoping his thoughts would be coherent enough to portray his feelings.

And now, the jewels were chosen. Susan assured him that Charlotte would adore them. He’d given Charlotte an unlimited budget for dresses, certain she would not spend anything near what he would expect. He’d offered for her to stay at Heyrick, and savoured for a moment the thought of her on their bed missing him as much as he was her. What else could he do? 

His eyes shot open. He had the weekend. There were horses for rent, why not make the journey? 

He rose immediately, donned a reasonable travel suit, had a quick breakfast with Samuel and Susan, pocketed a guinea in small amounts, and set off. 

***

Alexander approached the old stone bridge and paused to admire the lovely view of the stream. Charlotte had spoken of it so fondly in their many hours of conversation during their illness. 

A boy of about seven went running past. 

“Hello, sir. You are not from here,” he said in the frankness reserved for children. 

“How did you know?” Alexander chuckled.  “Do I have the look of a lost man?” 

“No, sir.  No one in Willingden has a horse of that quality or clothes that grand, sir.”  

Alexander was suddenly upset with himself.  He had dressed in decent travel clothes intent to impress upon his future father-in-law the security he would provide for Charlotte.  Perhaps he’d over dressed.  “You wouldn’t happen to be Zachary, would you?”  He pulled a random Heywood child’s name from his brain. 

“How do you know my brother's name?” 

“I am Alexander Colbourne, Charlotte's fiancé.”

“The one that Ralph calls the thief?” 

Alexander sighed. “Perhaps. Is your father home today?” 

“My father is always home.”

“If I offer you a trot on this grand horse, will you show me the way?” 

The young boy beamed as Alexander lifted him by the arm. A quarter-mile further down the road and they arrived. The young boy jumped down and ran to the barn.   

“Papa! Papa! Charlotte's gentleman is here! Charlotte's gentleman is here!”

Alexander dismounted, patting his mount in thanks.  A short, slightly-balding man with neatly-kept red hair and beard stepped from the darkness of the barn, wiping his hand on a rag.  

“Mr. Heywood.” Alexander bowed deeply.  “I am Alexander Colbourne.  I apologise for calling unannounced, but I wished to avail myself of the opportunity to make your acquaintance.” 

“You are to be my son-in-law, sir. I suppose that makes you welcome at any time.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Please,” Mr. Heywood said, “come inside. Zachary, see to the gentleman’s horse.”

Zachary!   Of course.  Zachary was the second boy.  Then who was the one he had met?    

Hearing the unfamiliar voice outside, Mrs. Heywood stepped onto the front stoop.  “Have we a visitor, my dear?”  

“Trudy, this is Mister Colbourne.”  He turned to Alexander to complete the introduction.  “My wife.”  

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Heywood.”  He was reluctant to say the next thing he had planned, but before he’d left, Samuel had insisted that he do so.  “I see now where Charlotte comes by her beauty.”

Mrs. Heywood blushed and curtseyed.  It had been years since any gentleman, including her husband, had said such a thing to her.  As the mother of twelve, and having married Mr. Heywood exceedingly early in her marriageable years, she rarely left the property, other than to go to the village for church, and every man in Willingden already knew of her beauty so as not to comment upon it anymore.  “Well,” she said, “Charlotte wrote in her letter that you are a gentleman of only the finest quality.  I can see she was truthful.  Won’t you please come in for some refreshment?”  

Alexander followed Mrs. Heywood into a nearly century-old home with a beautiful beamed ceiling. “I admire the architecture of your home, Mr. Heywood.  We have two cottages at Heyrick Park of this vintage, one of which was my grandfather's home before the current estate house was built in 1770.”

“Well here in Willingden, we don’t build new for the sake of it. We use and make the best of what we have.”  

Alexander was not about to let him begin the conversation in such a dismissive manner.  “I agree, sir.  My grandfather built the house when he could not afford it.  When I inherited, the estate was deep in debt.  Frugality and careful financial decisions were key to saving it.  Charlotte and I are well-matched in that way.”

Silence befell them. Mrs Heywood entered with the tea. She broke the silence. 

“So, Mr. Colbourne, Charlotte wrote that you are a dairy farmer?”

“Yes. We also have an apple orchard and provide vegetables for Sanditon and the surrounding area. We have approximately 300 acres in grain cultivation for flour and feed for the herd. In fact, Charlotte assisted with the final threshing just last week.” 

Mr. Heywood attempted to hide his excitement behind curiosity.  He failed.  “You are running a thresher?”  

“Your daughter had a nearly identical reaction.”  Alexander smiled.  “She was still recovering from being ill when I told her. Despite that, she sat straight up and asked to see it immediately.”

Mrs. Heywood looked suddenly distressed. “Charlotte was ill?

“Yes.  Have no fear, though, Mrs. Heywood.  I ensured that she received only the finest care.  The doctor visited her daily.  I should say that he visited both of us.  I was ill as well.  We are not sure of the illness. It did not seem to be typhus, but eight people in Sanditon, including Sarah Battlesford, one of our own tenants, lost their lives. She left behind three children.  One is a nursing infant.”  

“I will place the family in my prayers,” Mrs. Heywood replied. 

“Thank you.  Charlotte was remarkable, actually. When we found Mrs. Battlesford had died, Charlotte immediately gathered the infant and took her to a nursing mother in town. I’ve no doubt she saved the child’s life. Then, on the same day, she helped Dr. Fuchs deliver another baby at the neighbouring tenancy! By sundown she had saved one baby, delivered another, pitched three loads of hay into winter storage, and retrained my prized gelding to pull a wagon!  Honestly, I’m not sure what I would have done without her that day. I did not know she was a farmer's daughter when I fell in love with her.”

“That sounds very much like our Charlotte,” Mrs. Heywood said proudly.

“You raised an intelligent, thoughtful, capable daughter, Mrs. Heywood.  You should indeed be very proud.  I am certainly proud that she will allow me to call her my wife.”  

Mr. Heywood sat silently throughout this vivid exchange, watching the new man in his parlour with a careful eye, absorbing every word said.  He tried to find fault with the man.  Ralph was like another son, and Mr. Heywood was truly disappointed that the match he had intended for Charlotte was not what she wanted.  But, try as he might, he could not find fault with Alexander Colbourne.            

Mrs. Heywood supplanted her husband’s silence.  “Charlotte also wrote that you are a widower?”  

“Yes.  My first wife, Lucy, died nearly nine years ago of illness, not long after Leonora was born.  And then, her niece, Augusta, lost her parents to scarlet fever two years ago.  I became her guardian.  The girls adore Charlotte.  Leo began calling her mama the moment we told her of our engagement.”  

Mr. Heywood found his opening.  “So you are marrying her to be a mother to the girls?”  

“Among other things, yes, Mr. Heywood.”  Alexander took an additional sip and set down his teacup.  “What, might I ask, do you know of our story, Mr. and Mrs. Heywood?  I did not visit to cause you consternation, but rather to assure you of my love and care for Charlotte.  Perhaps that is best achieved if you are aware of further details of our courtship.”  

“We know only that she was in your employ, that she returned home three months ago in abject misery, and that after returning to Sanditon for Miss Lambe’s birthday she delayed her return by weeks and ended her engagement with Mr. Starling.  Upon his return, Mr. Starling informed us that Charlotte had chosen you.  I wrote to her of my great disappointment in her choice but expressing our continued love and support for her.  We received a letter from her in reply, assuring us that she is well, that you are a gentleman of the finest quality, and that…” Mr. Heywood trailed off, unwilling to continue.  

While he was speaking, Mrs. Heywood meandered to the desk in the corner.  She returned and handed a letter to Alexander.  She pointed to the third paragraph. 

We cannot control who we fall in love with and as much as I care for Ralph, I am not in love with him, Papa.  I will not condemn myself to a loveless marriage.  Unlike during the time when I was in his employ, Alexander and I made our acquaintance during this most recent trip to Sanditon as equals.  He professed his feelings and since that time he has been nothing but the finest of gentlemen, quietly waiting for me to make my decision.  I ask your forgiveness for any embarrassment I have caused you and our family and for your support Papa, for I have never known love existed as I feel for Alexander and the girls and Heyrick Park.    

Alexander closed his eyes for a moment and allowed his hand holding the letter to settle onto his knee.  I have never known love existed as I feel for Alexander and the girls and Heyrick Park .  He allowed her words to strengthen him in the face of his future father-in-law.  “Your daughter is direct and eloquent, as always.”  

“It is her way,” Mr. Heywood confirmed.  

“Mr. and Mrs. Heywood, I made the decision to come here because I am a father.  I cannot imagine Augusta or Leo marrying a man I have never met.  I would wish the opportunity to look into his eyes and receive his solemn vow that my daughter would want for nothing.”  Alexander adjusted his gaze to Mrs. Heywood.  “I love your daughter with a fierceness I cannot describe.  I consider it my solemn duty to ensure that her every need, indeed her every care, is met and she will be granted the freedom to live her life as she chooses.  I would expect nothing less for my own daughters and will provide nothing less for Charlotte.”  

“Well, then.”  Mrs. Heywood was smiling with small tears in her eyes, “How can we argue with that?  Will you stay for dinner, Mr. Colbourne?”  

Alexander fought the shyness within him at the thought of a table with so many people.  He needed to stay…for Charlotte.  “Thank you kindly, yes, though I may need a review of names from around the table.  I fear I’ve forgotten some of what Charlotte taught me.  Until that time, I believe I owe young…?”  

“Thomas.”  

“Yes, Thomas!”  Alexander stacked his hand from high to low.  “Winston, Zachary, John, Thomas and little Joshua.”  

“Very good, Mr. Colbourne,” Mrs. Heywood was still smiling.  

“I believe I owe young Thomas a ride on my horse, in exchange for showing me the way.”  He looked over her shoulder to the window and saw five sets of eyes staring at him from outside.  Thomas stuck his tongue out at his younger brother who whined, “But I want to ride the grand horse, too!”  He returned Mrs. Heywood’s pleasant smile.  

Mr. Heywood cleared his throat.  “I will show you to the stables, Mr. Colbourne.”  

Alexander exited the house and was immediately surrounded by a gaggle of children shouting questions at him.  

“Are you marrying Charlotte?” 

“Do you have children?”  

“Where did you get your grand hat, sir?”  

“May I have a ride, too?”  

“Children, Children!”  Mr. Heywood calmed them.  “Please let the gentleman walk to the barn in peace.  Thomas showed him the way to our home and he has promised Thomas a ride in return.”  Sounds of disappointment emanated from the small crowd.  “Now, back to your chores.”  

His command was followed by disappointed echoes of, “Yes, father.”  

“Please excuse them, Mr. Colbourne.  This way.”  They found Zachary in the barn, brushing Alexander’s animal and providing fresh hay.  

“He is a fine animal, Mr. Colbourne.  Muscular and lean. Is he yours?” Zachary asked.  

“No,” Alexander replied.  “I rented him from a stable in London.  I was visiting the city to take care of some business before the wedding, which I cannot continue until Monday, and so I thought to avail myself of the opportunity to escape that dreadful city and to assure your father of my qualifications as a husband.”  He glanced at Mr. Heywood as he spoke.  The horse shifted and its hoof made a clicking sound.  Alexander ran his hand down the right foreleg.  “What’s this, boy, hmmm.  Have you a loose shoe?  Come, lift your foot.  Let me see.”  Alexander called the second-eldest Heywood boy over.  “What do you see, Zachary?”  

“This nail is loose,” the boy replied, “and it has allowed a stone between hoof and shoe.” 

“Very good,” Alexander replied.  “What do you propose to do about it?”  

“Remove it.” 

“Yes.  How?”  

“Remove the shoe, clean the hoof, and re-shod the horse.”  

“And do you know how to do that, Zachary?”  

“I can remove the shoe, sir.  But, I fear I am not yet comfortable enough to shod a horse that is not mine.”  

Alexander looked up at Mr. Heywood.  “Honesty runs in the family, I see.  Well, Zachary, might we work together on the project?  Perhaps I can help you to increase your confidence.”  

“Yes, sir,” Zachary replied excitedly.  “I will get the tools.”  

Alexander nodded and turned again to Mr. Heywood.  “He is a fine boy, Mr. Heywood.”   

“You’ve no sons of your own, sir, by your first wife?” 

“No.  Leonora is my only child, and Augusta, of course.  She is as much a part of our family at this point as if she were our own.”  

“And so it will be Charlotte’s duty to provide you with sons?”  

“I place no such burden upon Charlotte.  I am marrying her because I love her.  If we are so blessed, then we shall count those blessings and be grateful for them.  If not, we shall be happy with our life as it is.”  Zachary returned with the ferrier kit. “Excellent,” Alexander removed the puller, “Now…” 

“Father!  Father!”  Another young man’s voice came from outside the barn as an out-of-breath Winston ran over the hill.  

Mr. Heywood reacted calmly, “Yes, Winston, what is it?”  

“Mister…” he bent to his knees to catch his breath, “Mister Starling requires your assistance.  Bessy is having difficulty with the birth.”

Alexander listened intently.  Bessy was a cow's name if ever he’d heard one!  

“What seems to be the problem?” Mr. Heywood asked.  

“He does not know, but the calf will not come and it has been forty-five minutes.”  

“Has he tied on the ropes to assist,” Mr. Heywood asked.  

“He tried, father, but there are no legs to tie them to.  That is the problem.”  

Alexander knew immediately the nature of the problem.  He had not imagined when he thought of making this trip that he would even see Mr. Starling, let alone have his arms in his cow!  Would he even accept his help?  Still, if the animal was in pain, he had a duty to assist.  

“Might I accompany you, Mr. Heywood?  I understand that I may be the last person that Mr. Starling would wish to see, but I am a dairy farmer, with a herd of thirty, that I breed myself.  If it is not too late in the process, I may be able to assist.”  

Mr. Heywood offered a wary nod of acceptance.  

“How far is it?” Alexander asked. 

“One-half mile east through the field, three-quarters by road.”  

“Time is of the essence.”  

“Aye.  Winston, hitch the wagon horses, as quickly as you can.” 

***

Soon, Mr. Heywood pulled up the wagon.  Alexander jumped in the back.  Mr. Heywood pulled away.  “Winston, Zachary, come!”  Alexander urged them to jump into the back of the wagon.  They followed his instructions and he pulled them up to the already moving wagon.  “It’s not every day you get to experience an unusual delivery.  It may be your only chance to learn before you have to do it yourselves.” 

The boys smiled.  They liked his man Charlotte had chosen.  

They arrived at the Starling property to the sounds of a cow mewling in pain and a woman’s voice saying “Ralph, do something!  We are going to lose her.”

“I am well aware, Catherine!  There is no need to state the obvious!”  He added under his breath, “This is what I get for trying to be the first dairy farmer in Willingden.”  He heard the wagon pulling up, though he was honestly not sure what help Mr. Heywood was going to be, never having birthed a cow himself.  The Heywoods had always gotten their milk from goats.  

“Ralph,” Mr. Heywood offered, “I have brought some assistance, though I’m not sure you will like the form in which it comes.”  

Ralph looked up, taken aback by seeing the man he so associated with Sanditon standing in his barn.

“Mr. Starling,” Alexander said with a small nod. 

“Mr. Colbourne.”  

“May I be of assistance?”  

“Do you know anything about complicated calf births?”  

“I do, sir.  We have a herd of thirty at Heyrick Farms and I helped to birth at least half of them.  May I take a look.”  

Ralph begrudgingly stepped aside.  Alexander removed his jacket, cravat, and waistcoat.  “Zachary, will you put these in the wagon for me, please?”  The cow mewled with another contraction.  The calf's skull was visible during the contraction.  The feet were not.  When the contraction stopped, Alexander stuffed his hands into the cow up to his elbows to feel for them.  They were tucked back beyond the shoulders, which were stuck on the pelvis.  Another contraction started.  Alexander pulled his hands out quickly.  “The calf’s feet are in a locked position behind the shoulders and the shoulders are trapped in the pelvic opening, blocking the calf from advancing.  It is an easy enough fix, but I fear I’ll need to ask the ladies to leave.”  

“Why?”  Ralph’s younger sister implored.  

Mr. Heywood spoke with her as if she were his own daughter.  “Catherine, be a good girl and follow instructions, now.  Go on.”  

As soon as they were gone Ralph asked, “Why, exactly, did they need to leave?”  

“Because I am about to be up to my shoulder in cow and I need to take my shirt off,”  Alexander replied.  “I did not bring another.  Mr. Heywood, tie her off to the fence tightly if you can.  This is much easier when mama is standing.”  He turned to Ralph.  “Mr. Starling, you are about to learn the finer points of a cow's anatomy.  Are you prepared?”  Alexander reached over his back and removed his shirt.  Ralph rolled his sleeves as high as he could.  “Come, Alexander said.  When the contraction stops, pull the skin of the vulva with one hand and slide the other in past the pelvis.  Follow the head past the nose to the feet, tucked within the pelvis.  Can you feel it?”  

“Yes.”  

“Good.”  Another contraction was starting.  Alexander did not want Ralph to be caught in that, not yet anyway.  “Out, out,” he said “quickly!  Trust me, you want to avoid having your arm in there during a contraction if you can.”  Alexander used his hands to demonstrate. “So the elbows of its forelegs are bent against the pelvis bone like this.”  He pushed the front knuckles of two fingers on his left hand against his right, demonstrating the resistance.  “To fix the problem, we have to wait for the next contraction to subside and then repulse the calf back into the mother and release the feet to the normal position.  Now, this little one also has its head in a tucked position so that the skull rather than the nose is coming first.  I’m going to push the calf back in and release the feet.  You will reach in and straighten the head.”  

Ralph nodded.  

“There’s a good chance my arm is going to get stuck in there when I push it back in and I’ll have to wait out a contraction before straightening the feet.  I will excuse myself now for any cursing or crying that takes place.  It is not a pleasant feeling.  Ready?”  They watched carefully for the next contraction to subside. “And, now!” 

Alexander pushed with all his might on the calf’s chest, forcing it back into the mother.  

“Almost there,” he growled.  He was up to his shoulder and turned sideways to give just another inch or two of length.  The contractions were coming fast and hard now.  Bessy let out a horrible cry, clearly in pain as Alexander pushed the calf in the opposite direction of what she wanted.  Her back legs collapsed as she attempted to lay down. “Mr. Heywood, hold her!” Alexander shouted as he fell to his knees to keep his arm from losing its position.”  Another contraction began.  “Ahhhh.”  Alexander squinted his eyes and wrinkled his face as he breathed through his teeth.  “Mr. Heywood!”  He yelled again as the animal fell lower and lower.  “She’s going to strangle herself!”   

“She weighs more than 100 stone!  If she wants to lay down, there is very little I can do about it!”

“Then cut the ropes, damnit!”  

“Where are the knives, Ralph?”  Mr. Heywood asked urgently.  

“In the storage shed on that side,” Ralph nodded with his head in the proper direction.  Zachary ran. 

“Are you right handed, Mr. Starling?”  Alexander inquired as he caught his breath.  

“Yes. Why?”  

“I believe you and I are about to be much better acquainted than either of us would prefer.”  Another contraction began.  “Blazes that hurts!”  

“What can I do?”  Ralph sounded helpless. 

“I have the feet.  When the contraction ends, I will straighten them.  You reach in for the head when I say.”  Alexander felt the animal’s muscles relax.  “Now.”  

Ralph stood chest to chest with Alexander, sticking his right arm into the animal, finding the calf’s chin and pulling it forward.  Another contraction began.  Ralph cried out as the two men found the entire lengths of their arms pressed together by the animal’s muscles.  It was Ralph’s turn to curse.  “Mother of God that’s strong!”  And thus the scene in the Starling barn was one of a cow with two ropes attached to the harness on her face, her back legs and rump on the ground, nose in the air, and with two men hanging from her birth canal up to their shoulders, kneeling at odd angles to maintain their position.    

“So,” Ralph said, “When is the wedding to beeeee?”  He stretched the word as he lost feeling in his fingers from the pressure.    

“The second Thursday from today.  Ow.”  

“That is fast.”  

“Charlotte chose the date.  Dammit where is Zachary with the knife?”  

“I’ve not heard the bans at Church.  Ooooof.”  

“No.  I purchased a licence.  Charlotte asked me to do so to spare you…sheesh… and the family further embarrassment.”

Ralph narrowed his eyes at the half-naked man inches from his face.  “You’ve not left her in a predicament, I hope, that you would need a quick wedding?”  

Alexander glared at him.  “I am not going to dignify that with a response.” 

“OW!”  They both shouted simultaneously.  

“Zachary!” Alexander shouted.  “Your alacrity is very much appreciated!”  They needed the damned cow to either stand up or lie down and he was desperate for this conversation to end.  “I assure you, Mr. Starling, Charlotte shall…ow…live the life that she desires.  She does not need my assistance to do that.  Dammit that hurts!  She is plenty capable herself.  She needs only…OW…my support.  Lucky for me, she accepts my love along with it and returns that love in…OOOWWWW…equal measure.” 

“You will care for her?  See that she is provided for?”  

“Are we really having this conversation while stuck in a cow?!  Charlotte will roar with laughter when I tell her the story.  Yes!  Of course!  She will want for nothing.  Zachary!”  

Zachary scrambled back into the stall with two knives, which he and Mr. Heywood used to cut the ropes.  As the animal fell the final few inches to the ground, she turned to her side and the two men tumbled along with her, Alexander landing squarely on top of Ralph.  The contraction subsided.  

“As I said, Mr. Starling – more acquainted than we would prefer.  Have you straightened the head?”  At this point, they were so intimately entwined that Alexander was speaking over Ralph’s shoulder, unable to move backward to look him in the eye.   

“Yes.” 

“Good.  Move your hand forward to find the other foot.  Do you have it?”  

“Yes.”  

“On the next contraction, we will help her do her work by pulling on the baby’s feet.  But we’ve nothing to brace ourselves when lying down.  He searched his mind for a solution.  “Winston, Mr. Heywood, grab our feet.  We need something to pull against!”  The last word came out as a near shriek as another contraction began.  Both men grunted, chests heaving against one another.  They felt the calf slip toward them.  “That’s it, Mr. Starling.  That’s it!  Pull!” 

Alexander’s boot slipped off in Winston’s hands.  Looking at one another, the eldest boy and Mr. Heywood silently decided that removal of boots was necessary and completed their task, taking the men’s stockings as well so that on the next contraction, they were pulling on bare feet.  

Bessy groaned.  Her entire abdomen convulsed.  The men were now only at their elbows.  Bessy began to stand. 

“Whoa. Whoa!” Alexander scrambled to get his feet under him and offered Ralph his free hand as an anchor.  

“That’s better.”  Alexander said calmly.  “It should only take one or two more and you’ll have a calf.” 

Bessy let out the loudest sound Ralph had ever heard an animal make.  He and Alexander pulled and the calf slipped out, knocking them both onto their asses and landing in their laps.  Bessy then proceeded to spray them with various placental substances to which they closed their eyes and crossed their arms in defence.  When it was over, they could do nothing but laugh.  Alexander inspected the calf.  

“She’s female.  Congratulations, Mr. Starling.  Your herd just doubled.”

Bessy had turned and was licking the baby and beginning to eat the placenta.  The men slid out from under the calf and walked out of the barn into the sunlight, leaving a trail of wet, bloody footprints in their wake.  They looked at one another and shook their heads. 

“If Charlotte could see us now, eh?”  Ralph said.  

“I believe she would be very proud to see us overcome our differences for a common purpose,” Alexander replied.  

“I believe she would,” Ralph answered with a satisfied grin on his face. 

“Now,” Alexander asked, chuckling, “where can we bathe?”

***

My Dear Alexander - 

The girls and I had a wonderful day at the beach with the Parkers, Lord Montrose, and Lady Lydia with her fiancé, whose name is Geoffery Bilken.  He is a breeder of horses from Wiltshire and I believe you and he would have much to discuss.  He seems a kind and generous man and I cannot imagine how Her Grace can find fault with him.  I was very pleased to spend the day chatting with Mary.  She says that she misses me and that with all of the time I am spending at Heyrick, it is as though I am married and gone already.  We played bowls, with the Duke claiming victory over myself in the final round, and waded in the water on the unusually warm day.  The children collected shells, of course, and Leonora collected a sand crab in one of her jars.  The only thing missing from our lovely gathering was you.  I hope that you found something equally lovely to amuse you today.    

I paused several times today, Alexander, to look around me and accept that this place, Sanditon, and these people I have come to see as family, is now my home.  I cannot begin to express my gratitude for this life you have given me.  You wrote in your letter that you would be forever grateful.  The feeling is mutual, my love.  

I miss you more each day.  As time passes, I find the longing created by your absence is more acute.  I understand your decision to take the mail coach home, given the quantity of expensive items and money you will be carrying, but I do hope that the inability to obtain a ticket will not hinder your return.  I yearn to have you near once again. 

All My Love, 

Charlotte  

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Dearest Charlotte,

Three months ago, I gave you every reason to doubt me.  Though we have discussed what I intended to say the day that Leo ran away, I have never found the right moment to apologise.  I do not want to go to London and leave you with any doubt.  I am sorry, Charlotte, for the pain I caused.

I have never told you that I watched you nearly every day from my study window as you came and went from Heyrick.  It was not long before my heart went with you each evening and returned to me each time your bonnet appeared at the end of the lane.  I knew, from the moment I watched you walk away that final time, that I had made the greatest mistake of my life, paralyzed by doubt.  

I should not be surprised then, that you found it believable that I would engage myself to another for the sake of the girls if not me.  But Charlotte, I would never have done so until your vows to another were complete. 

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt the sun doth move. 

Doubt the truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love. 

I am bereft until you are in my arms again.  

Until Tomorrow (Hopefully in Person), 

Alexander

“Hopefully in person,” Charlotte repeated.  She tucked the letter in the pocket of her dress.  She was beginning to feel bereft, too.  She reminded herself how silly that was.  She’d been in Willingden for three months – utterly bereft.  Now, he’d been gone merely four days, and yet she felt she could not breathe if she did not lay eyes on him soon.  

Why on earth was he apologising?  He’d done so much to show her his love, to demonstrate his integrity.  She spun all of the things he’d done like a wheel in her mind.  He’d gone to London to fetch Samuel for Georgiana.  He’d kept his promise to Leo to be the father that she deserved.  He’d allowed Augusta to make her own decision, even though in the end, Sir Edward had made it for her.  The school.  Their illness.  His insistence that the consummation of their marriage must wait in order that she might have the best experience.  She touched her lips and sighed.  “Ever the gentleman,” she whispered.  And these letters!  What could she do for him in return?  She looked to the east and saw the stables.  “Hannibal.”  She said out loud.  She headed in that direction. 

“Good morning, Mr. Charleson.  How are the horses this morning?” 

“Chompin’ and chewin’ Mistress.  Chompin’ and chewin’.”  

Mistress.   Why were they all doing that?  Surely it was not proper to do so until it was official.

“I am not Mistress yet, Mr. Charleson.  Miss Heywood will do for now.”  

“No, Mistress.  Mr. Colbourne made it known to the staff before he left that when you are here you are to be treated as Mistress of Heyrick Park and we are to honour all of your requests in his absence.”  

She smiled and added to her list in her mind.  She walked up to Hannibal and he nickered at her.  “Have you been chompin’ and chewin’ this morning, hmmm boy?”  She patted him along his nose.  “And what about you?  What did Alexander tell you about listening to me while he is away, hmmm?  Would you like to take a ride with me today?  I must go and check on the Battlesfords and the Thompsons.  Why don’t we see if we can get some of those riding commands back?  What do you say?”  Hannibal knickered again at her and bobbed his head, tossing his mane around.  “I know, I know. Last time I made you pull that horrible wagon, but I promise that this time all we shall do is ride, alright?”  She turned to the stable master.  “Mr. Charleson, does he have brushes that are specific to him?” 

“In the crate at the side of the stall, Mistress.” He went about his business.  

Charlotte picked up one of the brushes and began brushing the dirt from Hannibal in short, quick strokes.  She combed his mane and tail, speaking to him in soft tones the entire time, allowing him to know her voice and her scent and the feel of her hands on his fur.  “Well, shall we use Alexander’s saddle, hmm?  Is that the one best moulded to your back?”    

“John.” She spoke to the stable hand whom she had met at the thresher.  “I’m sorry, I do not know your surname.”  

“Paxton, Mistress.”  

“Mr. Paxton, has Hannibal ever used a different saddle, other than Mr. Colbourne’s?”

“No, Mistress.”   

She spoke to Hannibal as she took his bridle from the hook.  “Well then, Hannibal, it seems as though we will just have to adjust the stirrups.”  She blanketed and saddled him and did just that.  Soon, she was walking him out of the barn, mounting without the help of a step, and kicking the animal to a trot.  

“Hey Johnny,” Mr. Charleson called to the stable hand, “Did she just prepare and saddle that horse independently?”  

“Aye, she did.  And rode away…sitting astride.  Mr. Samuel says she is quite the wonder.”

“Did he indeed?”  

“Aye.”  

“Huh.”

***

Charlotte arrived at the Battlesford cottage to find Mrs. Filkins visiting, allowing the family to visit with the baby.  She had her own son on one breast and the Battlesford son on the other.  

“Good Morning!” Charlotte cooed as she entered.  “How is everyone this morning?”

“We are as well as can be expected, Mistress,” Reggie replied on behalf of his father, who was clearly still in the fog of grief.  

“And this little one is eating like a champion,” Mrs. Filkins replied.  “He has eaten with several ladies in town and they all say the same.  He’s going to be a good, strong boy.”  She pulled the babies from her breasts, handing her own son to Charlotte and the Battlesford child to Reggie.  

Charlotte spoke quietly.  “Mrs. Filkins, might I speak with you outside for a moment?”  

“Of course, miss.”  

“I was thinking, Mrs. Filkins, of hiring a wet nurse for the family.  Do you know any ladies in town who might be interested in such a position?  Who might be in need of the income?”  

“Well, young Anne Baker’s son will be turning two soon, and he is weaning, but she is still letting down, I believe.  She lost her husband to the illness as well, so I am sure that she would be most grateful.”  

“If I visit town tomorrow, would you be kind enough to make an introduction?” 

“Of course, miss.”  

Charlotte handed the baby back. “Thank You.”  They re-entered the home.  “Mr. Battlesford, the kitchen staff will be out later this afternoon with another two days of meals.”  

“That is very kind, Mistress.  Thank you.” 

“Of course.  And Mr. Colbourne should be returning tomorrow or the following day and I am sure he will come to see you imminently upon his return.  Joanna, Reggie, take care of your papa, alright?”  

The children nodded and Charlotte headed off to the Thompsons.  She found Ella Thompson as she expected, sore in a seated position, but well enough in bed.  The entire household exuded joie de vivre .  Satisfied that all was well, she rode with Hannibal through the fields, making turns, sudden stops, and changing gait often to help return him to his best condition for Alexander’s return.  When they both required rest, she removed his bit so that he could eat and drink freely at the stream bank.  

Charlotte sat under a large oak, listening to the babbling of the stream and watching the first colours on the leaves begin to show.  Pencil in hand and paper on a small slate on her lap, she tried to decide the best way to respond to her future husband’s unnecessary apology.   

Dearest Alexander - 

I cannot accept your apology because I already accepted it long ago.  Has anyone ever told you that you speak with your eyes?  The day that I visited Heyrick Park with Georgiana, you told me that the girls missed me, but I knew that you were speaking of yourself as well.  Your eyes told me.  You speak with your hands, too.  When your fingers brushed mine at the recital on the beach, they told me of your regret.  When you finally declared yourself after the shooting party, I was angry with the situation, but I had already forgiven you, because I love you.  

I, too, felt my heart swell upon seeing Heyrick Park in the mornings.  It was becoming my home without my knowing it and it broke my heart to leave it – to leave you and the girls.  Indeed, it broke my heart so profoundly that when you returned to Trafalgar House to correct your error, to tell me the truth, I denied you the opportunity.  I am sorry, too, My Love; but, let us be sorry no longer.  We have a lifetime of love to come.  You are a gentleman of the finest quality, Alexander Colbourne, and I am proud to call you my husband. 

All My Love, 

Charlotte

***

Samuel stared at the four letters on the desk in front of him.  “Johnson!” He called to his legal secretary.  “When did these arrive?” 

“Just this morning, sir.”  

“Thank you.”  Four client meetings, cancelled.  It seemed that his professional schedule was clearing, and quickly.  No matter.  He would endure it.  He had managed to put away some savings in the last three years, all of his money prior to that having gone to studying the law.  They would not be destitute.  They would weather the storm.  “This too, shall pass.”  He sighed and set himself to the work that remained.

***

In a different part of town, Georgiana and Otis walked among the throngs of people in their Monday morning rush to arrive on time at their destinations.  They finally came to their own: 53 Barley Street.  The sign read:

The offices of Whitaker, Johnson, and Trone – Architects.

They entered. A bell attached to the door announced their arrival.  

“May I help you?”  asked a short, stout man with curly hair, small round spectacles, and a voice that sounded as though he was speaking through his nose.  

“We have an appointment with Mr. Whitaker,” Otis replied.  “Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux.”  

The man looked them up and down and said, “Have a seat please.  I shall return presently.”  

They did as he asked.  

A fine looking gentleman with a tall hat, dishevelled cravat, and rolled documents under his arm passed them like a breeze.  Georgiana gasped. 

“Mr. Stringer!”  

James Stringer turned.  He stood and blinked, unable to place the face that he knew he had seen.  

“I am Georgiana Lambe.  From Sanditon.”  

“Yes, of course, Miss Lambe.  Excuse my heedlessness.  It took me a moment to place you in my mind.” 

“I am Mrs. Molyneaux, now.  May I introduce my husband, Mr. Otis Molyneaux.  Otis, this is Mr. Stringer.  He was formerly Mr. Parker’s foreman in Sanditon, before coming to London to study Architecture.”  

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Stringer” Otis replied. 

“What brings you here, of all places, Mrs. Molyneaux?”  

“Otis and I are making an investment in a new apartment building.”  

Otis continued.  “We wish to bring safe, affordable, modern housing to parts of the city that currently lack such accommodations.”  

“A noble goal, indeed.  Mr. Whitaker has designed many apartment buildings.”  

“Yes.  That is why we are here to meet with him.”  

Mr. Stringer moved like a jester for a few moments as the rolled plans began to shift and fall from his hands.  He managed to juggle them and prevent any from falling to the floor.  “If you will excuse me for just a moment, I shall set these down and return.”  

“Please.”  Otis nodded and he and Georgiana returned to their seats.  Just as they sat, the nasally-voiced gentleman returned.  

“I regret to say that Mr. Whitaker is unable to meet with you now.  He invites you to inquire with another firm to see if they might better meet your needs.”  

“What you actually mean to say,” Georgiana snarled and spoke loudly enough for other members of the office to hear, “is that you informed him we are black and he is refusing to meet with us!”  

Otis quietly began, “Mr…?” 

“Atticus.” 

“Mr. Atticus, we have a large fortune of more than one-hundred-thousand pounds and wish to invest in properties throughout the city.  Surely, a relationship such as that is of benefit to the firm.”  

The reply was the same, stated differently.  “Whitaker, Johnson, and Trone is the most sought-after architecture firm in London.  We choose our clients, our clients do not choose us.  Good Day, Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux.”  

Georgiana snatched her gloves from Otis’ hands.  He, in turn took his hat and gloves from Mr. Atticus, and ushered Georgiana out with a hand at the small of the back.  He needed to remove her from the situation for fear she would punch the man!

On the street, a voice called after them.  “Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux!”  Mr. Stringer was running to catch them.  “Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux, I returned but Mr. Atticus said you had departed.”  

“We did not depart,” Otis replied.  “We were asked to leave.”  

Mr. Stringer hung his head.  “I am sorry.”  

“We have money to spend!” Georgiana was incensed.  “First, no lawyer will take my case.  Now, no architect will meet with us!  It is galling!” 

“Mr. Molyneaux, here is my calling card.  They will be looking for me inside, but if you still wish to build that building, I’ve some ideas.  I’d be happy to meet with you, outside of business hours.”  

“Thank you, Mr. Stringer,” Otis said, and Stringer sprinted back into the building before he was missed.  Otis turned to his wife.  “He seems a nice fellow.”  

“Charlotte says he is.  I did not have occasion to meet him other than in passing.”  

“Well, perhaps we should invite him to dinner tomorrow?”  

“Perhaps we should.”  

***

Samuel, Susan and Alexander sat around the dinner table at Colbourne House.  Susan looked at the brothers.  Samuel was unusually reserved, seeming to pick at his food before taking his bites.  Alternately, Alexander was like a horse chomping at his bit, anxious to get back to Heyrick.  She attempted to begin a conversation.  “Well, how was everyone’s day today?” Alexander, never the first to speak in any conversation, stayed silent.  Uncharacteristically, Samuel did also. “Samuel?” Susan prompted him.  

“It was fine.  Typical.”  

“Well, Samuel, I must say that I have no idea how a typical day for a lawyer passes.”  

“For that matter,” added Alexander, “neither do I.”  

“Please,” Susan continued, “enlighten us.”  

“Well, it can be any number of things.  Client meetings.  Contracts.  Letters of correspondence to other Lawyers suggesting or accepting settlements between parties.  Sometimes, travelling to the Chancery to examine the docket in order to sell one’s services to those who need them.”  

“And which of those did you do today?”  Susan asked. 

“I wrote a contract, completed letters of correspondence to four clients who are no longer in need of my services, and completed three letters to clients who wish to hire me.”  

“The publicity from Miss Lambe’s case should enhance your reputation,” Alexander offered.  

“Yes.  Apparently it has.  The three clients who contacted me all have cases pending before the Chancery.  They seem to believe that if I can help a black woman keep her fortune in Cornforth’s court, I can win any case.  But these inheritance cases are tricky and, frankly, I’d rather take on easier work.”  

“And the four clients who no longer need your services?  Did you settle their cases?”  Susan asked.  

“Yes.”  Samuel lied.  He did not have the heart to tell her that they were friends of the King, who ordered that they cease association.    

Silence fell over the table again.       

Alexander finally chimed in.  “I wanted to thank you for recommending the tailor, Susan.  The waistcoat is genuinely the finest I have ever owned.”  

“I confess I stole a peek.”  Susan admitted.  “The embroidery is quite stunning!  I am so pleased you are happy with it.”

“My trunks are packed, brother.  You will bring them upon your return?”  Alexander spoke with concern in his voice.    

“I will.  Are you certain that you wish to ride the mail coach?” 

“It is the most secure, certainly, given the jewels and money I shall carry.” 

Samuel smirked.  He could not resist.  “And the non-stop travel will get you to Charlotte sooner.” Susan kicked him under the table.  Alexander paid the statement no attention.  

“Do not forget my suit, brother.  I am trusting it to your care.”  

“Honestly, Xander.  Have I not earned your trust at this point?”  

Alexander gave a begrudging reply.  “I suppose.”  

“Have no fear, Alexander,” Susan said.  “I shall ensure that your suit is fully packed and given into Mrs. Wheatley’s secure hands for pressing upon our arrival.”  

“Thank you, Susan.” He replied more confidently.  

“You arrived home so late last evening, brother.  You’ve yet to tell us what transpired in Willingden.”  

“I met Charlotte’s abundant family, delivered Mr. Starling’s calf, and managed to obtain Mr. Heywood’s blessing. All in all, a successful trip.”  

Samuel laughed.  “Wait.  What?  You delivered a calf?”  

“Yes.  Winston, that is Charlotte’s eldest brother, came running to the barn, requesting help for Mr. Starling’s cow who was having a difficult birth.  It was a simple straightening of the hooves and head, nothing I’ve not seen before.  We managed it well.”  

Samuel’s ability to detect the withholding of information was warning him that there was far more to this story.  “Oh, no.  You are not getting off that easy, brother.  There is more to this story and I want to hear every detail.”  

Susan stifled a laugh and a smile with her fork in front of her mouth.  

“I’ve an audience of two, I see.”  Alexander commented cheekily.    

Susan defended herself.  “Well, it does sound like a rather interesting story.  I mean, I cannot imagine that Mr. Starling ever thought that you , of all people, would be assisting him with a cow!”  

Alexander sat back in his chair, smiling, and began the story.  

***

As usual, Leo had awakened with the sun.  Hoping to allow the household to sleep, Charlotte had snuck with Leo into the kitchen for some bread and fruit and whisked the child out of the house for an early morning stroll along the beach.  It was low tide and the beach was full of treasures.  

“Mama!  Look at this one!”  Leo exclaimed as she presented a still intact mussel shell.  “What’s inside?”  

“That’s the mussel, the animal that lives inside.”  Charlotte cracked open the shell and popped it into her mouth.  “It is delicious!  They don’t usually live alone, though.  There must be a colony on the rocks somewhere and this one became detached.  Shall we go in search of them?” 

“Oh Yes!  We shall be mussel explorers!”  

“Searching for dinner!”  Charlotte added.  

As they headed to the rocky shore to climb among the boulders, they did not see the gentleman in the grey hat standing in the church yard above them.  But he saw them.  Weary from his night of mail coach travel, Alexander’s heart leapt at the sight.  

“Good morning, Mr. Colbourne,” Miss Hankins said from behind him.  “What brings you here so early on this fine day?” 

“I’ve just arrived from London on the mailcoach.  I thought to pay my respects to Mrs. Battlesford on my walk to Heyrick Park.”  

“Such a tragedy.  We’ve so many children who have lost a parent to sickness.”  

“Yes.”  

“The church is putting together some charity, to ensure that the families who lost fathers will not be without an income, at least for a little while.  And of course, Mrs. Filkins has been feeding the Battlesford child.”  

“That is kind, Miss Hankins.  You needn’t worry about the Battlesfords, though.  No family at Heyrick Park goes without.”  

“Of course not.  I would expect nothing less from a gentleman such as yourself, Mr. Colbourne.”  

Leo’s voice could be heard among the rocks.  “Mama!  I found them!  I found them!”

Alexander excused himself.  “I believe those are my ladies, Miss Hankins.  Would you mind terribly if I left my hat here at the rectory until later today or tomorrow?  I should like to climb down and greet them after my time away.”  

“Climb down?”  

“Yes.  There is a path…through the rocks.”  

“A path?  My goodness!  I’ve not ever heard of such a thing!” 

“Alas, Miss Hankins.  You did not grow up here.”  He leaned in and whispered as he handed her his hat.  “It is a well-kept secret among those of us who did.”

Miss Hankins took the hat and waved him off.  Alexander bowed and disappeared over the cliff’s edge.  It was much scarier descending than ascending, but he was far too ebullient to care.  Charlotte would be in his arms in moments.  He quietly approached.  Darting behind boulders to ensure they did not see or hear his approach.     

“What kind are they?”  Leo asked. 

“Let me see…Blue Mussels, I believe.  Also called a Common Mussel.”  

“ Mytilus Edulis ,”  Alexander popped up from the boulder behind them. 

“Oh!”  Charlotte nearly jumped from her skin.

“Papa!” Leo sang, apparently unaffected by the surprise.

“Whoa, Whoa!”  Alexander put his arms out to stop her from jumping.  “I can’t catch you in this position without falling on the rocks.  Just come and hug me slowly and you can jump to me when we return to the sand.”  The young child approached him slowly and wrapped her arms around his legs, which still caused him to nearly lose his balance on the slippery surface.

“I missed you papa!”  

With Leo buried in his stomach, Alexander reached out with his hand to stroke Charlotte’s cheek.  She turned her head and kissed his palm, closing her eyes to savour the scent of him.  

“Papa, what do you think they look like?”  Leo asked.  Receiving no response, she shouted,  “Papa!” 

“I’m sorry Leo, what was that?”  

“I said , what do you think they look like?”  

“Who?” 

“The My-til-an-tus Ed-u-scop-u-lis.”  

Alexander laughed.  “ Mytilus Edulis .”  

“Yes, those.  What do you think they look like?”  

“What do you think they look like?” 

“I think they look like rocks, but there are animals inside!”  

“Well, I think they look like dinner!”  

“That’s what mama said!”  

“Did she?  Well, I would say that is because your mama is a smart lady.”  He broke a mussel from the rock.  “See, Leo.  They have these little threads people call a beard.  That is how they attach themselves to the slippery rocks and to one another.”

“But we can just snap them off.”  

“Yes.  We will need something to put them in, though.”  

Charlotte removed her pelisse and passed it to Alexander.  She then removed her pinafore and formed it into a sack.  “Here, Leo.  Place them in here.  Then we shall tie it off to carry them home.”  Alexander placed her pelisse back over her shoulders and proceeded to button her up, discreetly brushing his fingers along her shoulders and neckline in the process.  With just those small touches, Charlotte could already feel her desire for him beginning to build.  As happy as she was to see him, the walk back to Heyrick was going to feel interminable.  With Leo distracted, collecting mollusks, Charlotte turned and untied his cravat, gently brushing the skin between his collarbones.  Alexander felt his knees begin to buckle.  “For tying off the sack,” Charlotte feigned innocence as she squatted beside Leo to tie off the fabric.  Alexander stood, tongue in cheek, and tapped his toe on the rock.  

Leo stood, carrying her treasure.  “What will Mrs. Wheatley say, Father, about our dinner?”  

“We shall give them straight to Mrs. Paisley.  Mrs. Wheatly will not want to see them.” 

“Why?  Does she think they are ugly?”  Leo held up the bag to her nose.  “Or smelly?  I think they are fascinating!”  

“No.  She cannot eat them.  They make her very sick.”  

“She does not like them?” 

“I do not know if she likes them, but they make her ill and so she cannot eat them.”  He handed Charlotte over the final boulder and they stepped onto the sand.  Leo ran ahead with her sack and set it down just above the water line.  She turned around and ran back toward Alexander, who realised what was happening just in time to kneel in the sand and brace himself.  

“I am so glad you are home, Papa!”  

“I missed you, too.  Both of you.  All three of you.”  He stood and brushed his knees.  “How is Augusta?” 

“Better every day,” Charlotte replied.  

Alexander smiled and nodded, letting his eyes tell her how grateful he was for her help in that regard.  “Papa in the middle!”  He called.  

“But I want to walk between you!”  Leo whined.  

“Nope.  I have not seen either of you for five days and I missed you both equally and so I shall share you equally – one hand to each.”  He put his left hand out for Leo, who swapped the hand that held the sack and obliged.  He put the other out for Charlotte, pressing his lips to the back of her hand for as long as he dared before they began walking home.  

As they approached the rear of the house through the field, Leo was bounding ahead.  

“Leonora!” Charlotte called.  “Take those straight into the kitchen and give them to Mrs. Paisley for dinner!”  

“Yes mama!”  Leo called as she jumped over the short wall near the stables and headed for the house.  Alexander and Charlotte had slowed their pace, both knowing that they were running out of trees to hide behind and both with the same idea.  The moment Leo was out of sight, they fervidly claimed one another’s mouths behind the nearest grand oak.  Five days of longing erupted in lips, tongues, hands, and bodies.  Breath seemed less necessary than contact.  Alexander slid his hands inside her pelisse to rest on the curve of her waist, thumbs gently stroking the bottoms of her breasts.  She slid hers under his coat to his laces and managed to loosen his shirt enough to find some bare skin at the small of his back.  He accidentally bumped her too hard against the trunk of the tree. 

“Ow.”  

“I’m sorry.”  He pulled away and bent his knees to look level with her eyes.  He stroked her face.  “Are you alright?”  

She leaned into his hand again, reminded how magical his thumb could be.  She nodded and collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing so tightly that he grunted.  “The house is so empty without you.” 

“Imagine how empty it was without you!” he replied.  “It was why we had to go to Bath.  I could not stand to be here without you.”  He swayed, holding her as tightly as he dared.  “God, I missed you.”  

“I missed you, too.”  

“Did you get my letters?”  

Neither of them was ready to let go and so she spoke into his shoulder.  “Yes, Xander.  Thank you.  They were lovely.”  

He kissed her on the head and nuzzled his nose in her hair.  “I am glad you enjoyed them,” he said, almost reverently.    

“I wrote back to you.  I did not send them.  I left them on your desk for you to read at your leisure.”  

“I look forward to reading them.”

“Was your trip successful?  Did you accomplish everything that you set out to do?  Tailor, bank jeweller?”  

“Yes.  All three.  And,” he finally stepped back, holding her by the shoulders and kissing her on the forehead, “I obtained your father’s blessing.”

Charlotte’s smile sparkled.  “You have been to Willingden?”  

“Yes.  I had accomplished my business by Friday and was simply waiting for the tailor to finish, and so I rented a horse and made the trip on the weekend.”  

Charlotte leaned up and kissed him.  “Thank you.  What did you say to him?” 

“I said that every father should have the opportunity to look his daughter’s fiancé in the eyes and ensure the type of man he is – to ensure that his daughter will be cared for.”  

Charlotte kissed him again.  

“And then…” Despite having told the story to Samuel and Susan, Alexander scrunched his face in disbelief. “I delivered Bessy’s calf.” 

“Ralph’s Bessy?” 

“Yes, Ralph’s Bessy.”  

“Ralph accepted help?  From you ?”  

“Well he did not have much of a choice.  The calf’s forelegs were stuck and I was the one who knew how to address the problem.”

“Well, I am sure that went a long way with my father, beyond your little speech about fathers and fiancés.”  Charlotte looped her arm through his as they headed to the house.  “This is a story that I simply must hear.  Do not leave out any details.”  

“Might we wait until we get to the house?  I already told the story once to Samuel and Susan.  I would prefer not to have to tell it a third time for the girls.”

“Fair enough.”  Charlotte tipped her head against his shoulder as they walked in silence to the house, each simply enjoying the presence of the other. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Alexander rose with the sun the morning after his return.  He needed to make rounds to check on the Battlesfords and on Mrs.Thompson and the baby.  And today, he had an extra task.  

He stared at the sky.  As winter approached, the number of grey days was steadily overtaking the blue.  Today, it was as if the entire south coast got chills and decided to wear a thick, grey, fleece blanket.  There were no shadows to be found, so diffuse was the light. 

“Do you think it will rain, girl?” he asked the lurcher, trotting beside him.  Luna barked in reply.  

He ran Hannibal up and down the flats with Luna nipping at their heels.  It had always been his favourite way to clear his head.  He would simply descend from the grasses and through the dunes to the flats and canter to the eastern end.  Then, he would brace himself in the saddle, squeezing his legs with every ounce of his power, shorten the reins and give Hannibal a hiss and a kick.  The gelding would run as if someone had shot at him, half a mile to the western edge.  At seven years of age, Hannibal was not as fast as he once was, but the ride was still bracing and at top speed, Alexander had no choice but to focus his mind in the present, lest he end up with a face-full of sand or, worse yet, a broken shoulder, collarbone or ribs.  

On this morning, as he barreled toward the western edge of the beach, a figure in a blue coat appeared from between the dunes.  He would know that coat anywhere.  He had watched it appear and fade on the horizon from his window more times than he could count. Luna barked and ran to meet Charlotte, who knelt immediately to offer ear scratches.  He pulled back to a canter and circled around her before dismounting. 

“Good Morning.  This is an unexpected pleasure.”  

“I thought you were going on rounds this morning.” 

“I did.  I wanted to give Hannibal a chance to open up his legs.”  Holding onto the reins with one hand, he wrapped the other around her waist and bent to kiss her gently.  With forehead pressed into hers, he said, “An unexpected pleasure, indeed.”  They had both come to the beach for quiet contemplation and now they stood in quiet contemplation together, soaking in the presence of the other.  

Charlotte put out her hand after she felt the drop on her head.  In a mere seconds, the sky opened upon them with little warning.  It did not announce itself with thunder or variations in clouds.  It was simply as if the Gods decided that the blanket was wet and decided to wring it.  

Alexander quickly mounted and offered her an arm.  There was an urgency in his demeanour. 

“It is fine, Alexander.  It’s only a little rain.” 

“No.  It is chilly today.  Come.”  Charlotte took his arm and the offered stirrup and rose up behind him.  “It is about three-quarters of a mile.  Hold on.”  

After ascending the cliff, they approached a small, rendered cottage with a clay-tile roof and small covered porch among a grove of gnarly trees.  Quickly offering Charlotte an arm down, Alexander alighted and unbuckled the saddle to protect the leather from the rain.  He tied Hannibal to the porch railing. 

“It is locked,” Charlotte offered. Alexander immediately took the woollen saddle blanket and wrapped his hand, punching out a pane of glass in the window and releasing the latch.  “I’ll be right back,” he said, before disappearing inside.  He had the door open in moments.  “My Lady,” he ushered her inside.  “Take off those wet things.  I will start a fire.”  

Charlotte looked around.  The cottage was dusty but not dank.  The roof was not leaking.  “What is this place?” she asked.  

“It was a game keeper’s cottage from when my grandfather cared about such things.”   

“How long has it been since someone lived here?”

“About thirty or fourty years, I would say.” 

“Whoever built the roof did a fine job.”

“Indeed.  It is one of the best reasons to use tile rather than thatch.  More expensive up front, but unless it cracks, the tile practically lasts forever.“  He surveyed the room.  There was a flint and old stacks of paper in a crate next to the fireplace, but no wood, and nothing outside would be dry at this point.  With little thought, he decided to sacrifice the bench at the table and an old wooden and rattan chair.  “Cover your ears.”  He flipped the bench with a loud bang and used his booted foot to kick the legs from the bench.  

“Alexander!  What are you doing?”  She had never seen him use such violence.  Now he was breaking windows and benches!  

“We need firewood.”  He removed his green coat.  “Here,” he prompted her for the second time and without emotion.  “Take off your wet things and put this on.”  

Puzzled by his cool demeanour, Charlotte nonetheless removed her wet clothing.  She’d been planning to do so anyway.  She was soaked through.  Even her stays were dripping.  The prospect of having a reason to remove her clothing in his presence thrilled her in a way that she thought perhaps it should not.  She found she did not care.  She started with her bonnet.  “Well, this bonnet is ruined,” she noted.  

“It is no matter,” Alexander said nonchalantly as he leaned what remained of the bench on the hearth and jumped with both feet to snap it in two.  “You can afford a new one.”  Charlotte took a moment to allow that fact to settle in her mind.  She would never again need to worry about whether a new bonnet was a frivolous purchase.  Alexander picked up some paper from the stack.  “Well, you asked how long it had been since anyone was here.”  He read from the paper in his hand.  “‘Louis XVI executed in France.  Anarchy Remains. Paris in Chaos.’  It is dated 29th of January, 1793.”  He crumpled the paper along with about ten others and stacked them in the fireplace along with the pieces of the bench.  The flint was not entirely cooperative, however, and he struggled while lighting the paper.

While she was waiting, Charlotte began unbuttoning her pelisse and hung it over the chair to dry.  She did the same for her pinafore and dress.  A hat rack stood in the corner.  She removed her stays and hung them from one of the hooks.  Standing in only her underdress, she put his beautiful green coat around her shoulders and turned her back.  She slipped her underdress from her shoulders and allowed it to flow to the floor.  The inside of the coat was lined with a soft wool that felt quite divine on her cool, damp skin and the smell of hay and horse and Alexander wafted from it as she buttoned it.  

Alexander rubbed his hands in the nascent heat from the fire and stood to rest his palm on the mantle, watching the flames.   

“Alexander?” Charlotte questioned his reserved behaviour, which was more reminiscent of her employer than her fiancé.  “Is everything alright?”  

He finally looked up at her.  He did not answer her question.  “Are you warm?”  He rubbed his palms up and down her upper arms.  

“Nearly.”  She felt him in the same manner.  “But you are not.  Your hair is still dripping and your skin is cold and clammy.  Take off your jacket and your shirt.”  

“I am fine.”   

“Alexander, I am not being forward.  I am being practical.  You were just as sick as I was and we all depend upon you being alive!  Now, take off your shirt and hang it up to dry.”  He rolled his eyes at her.  “I’ll remind you again that I grew up on a farm and spend summers on the beach in Sanditon!  I have seen shirtless men many times.  Now, take it off so you do not catch a chill.”  Her argument was quite rational, but he was not in a rational frame of mind.  Nonetheless, he did as instructed, removing the garment and wringing it out.  He then rubbed it through his hair to dry his dense brown mop and wrung it again.  He walked to the hat rack and hung the shirt next to her stays.  The lines of the feminine garment caught his attention and he gently ran his fingers down the boning, quietly imagining what it would be like to do the same when it was on her.  

Something was definitely wrong.  Charlotte was sure.  He was standing in front of her, half naked.  She was completely naked under his coat.  Normally, they would have been struggling to contain themselves, but though he was physically present his mind seemed in some far distant land.   Charlotte stepped up behind him and kissed him gently on the shoulder blade.  “You are very handsome, Alexander.”  She heard him sigh quietly. She ran her fingers delicately down the bones of his spine.  Alexander made a hissing noise through his teeth that made her smile against his skin.  She kissed her way to the opposite shoulder blade.  Finally, she wrapped her arms around his stomach and nuzzled her head into his back.  “I love you.  Please tell me what’s wrong.”  He spun in her arms and gracefully lifted her legs around him, setting her on the end of the table.  Hands at her cheeks, Charlotte was expecting his passion to overcome his reserve, but instead Alexander kissed her with a reverence even beyond what he’d shown before.  Delicate.  Soft.  Sweet.     

“Charlotte, when I said that my feelings have only grown deeper, I meant it.  I love you more today than I did yesterday.  I love you more in this moment than when we walked through that door.  I will love you more at dinner tonight than I do now.”  He delicately brushed his lips against her cheek, inhaling the intoxicating combination of moisture, hair, and skin. “Sometimes, I feel as though you are the very air that I breathe.”   He took a deep breath and shuddered upon exhalation.  Then, he stood with his hands resting gently on her hips and his lips barely brushing her hairline.  His skin broke into gooseflesh.  Charlotte ran her fingers delicately from his shoulders to his wrists.  

“You are still cold, my love.  Where is the saddle blanket?”  

“On the porch.”  

“Go and sit by the fire.  I will get it.”  She moved to get down but he blocked her. 

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“Yes?”

He slid his hands up her sides, pulling her to him under her arms with thumbs grazing her breasts.  His lips met hers in a kiss more passionate but still achingly slow and reverent.  It seemed to go on forever, his tongue haunted by an unspoken need.  When he pulled back, Charlotte felt as though she had been transported to whatever world his mind was occupying.  She let out a single chuckle of astonishment as she looked up at him and her teeth met her bottom lip.  He looked upon her with eyes as reverent as his lips and finally smiled for the first time that day, though to Charlotte it looked shy and reticent.  He ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Blanket?” 

“Yes.”  She hopped down and stepped onto the porch.  The cool rain was still falling in a steady stream with no signs of relenting.  Fog was setting in along the coast.  She remembered that she had seen a kettle inside.  Alexander had added more wood to the fire and was sitting on the floor in front with his arms resting on his raised knees.  She wrapped the blanket around his shoulders.  “I’m going to set the kettle in the rain.  At least we can have warm liquid.”  She kissed him on the head. 

When she stepped back inside, she discreetly pulled her arms out of the sleeves of the coat and spun it so that it was backward.  Then she walked to Alexander, spread apart his knees and planted herself on the floor in front of him.  “Unbutton the coat so that we can wrap it around both of us.”  

Alexander sat silently, contemplating whether or not to tell her “no.”  In reality, he was quite chilly because he was still wearing wet britches and he was not taking them off.   Sharing the coat was logical, given the situation.  He took another deep breath to calm himself before acquiescing.  He began the delicate dance of unfastening the large buttons, revealing the ivory, freckled skin beneath a torturous two or three inches at a time.  He touched the bones of her neck and felt her breath hitch when he did.  He ran a single fingertip down her spine, just as she had done to him.  Then, he smoothly slid his right arm inside and around to her navel to pull her back to his chest, while using his left to ensure that the coat did not slide off.  Again, he just sat with his arms around her, as if his continuing to live depended upon the contact of spine to sternum.  A shiver overcame him and Charlotte felt it.  

“Here,” she suggested as she spun the coat on its side so that the length might wrap both of them.  Alexander slid a single arm through the armhole to hold it in place and Charlotte pulled her knees tightly to her chest underneath.  When she did, her knee slid against some papers in his pocket.  “What is in your pocket?” 

“Damnit.”  

“Alexander Colbourne!  Did you just curse at your wife?”  

“No!  I am sorry.  I was not cursing at you.  I was cursing at myself for my carelessness.  Those are your letters!  Did they get wet?”

“I do not know,” she said as she slid them from the pocket and passed them to him over her shoulder.  He released his right arm from the covering and tucked it under so that she would stay covered.  With one arm in a sleeve and one bare, he began to unfold each letter, inspecting the ink for smearing and the paper for damage.

“Did you get to read them?” Charlotte asked.

“Not yet.  I had intended to do so last night, but I was so tired from travelling that I fell asleep beside Leo when I tucked her in.”  He came to the final letter, which was the closest to the surface in his pocket.  The top layer of paper was completely soaked and the ink smeared, but it had acted as something of a sacrificial lamb for the others, saving them from the same fate.  “Damnit,” he said again under his breath.  “Will you tell me what it said?”  

“That is the final one.  You should read the others first.”

“Now?”

“Why not?  It is not as though we’ve anything else to do.”  

Alexander examined the dates and began reading silently to himself.  “Why does it bother you when the staff calls you ma’am or mistress?  It is what you are.  I told them to do so before I left.”  

“Yes, I’m aware.  I tried to tell Mr. Charleson to call me Miss Heywood but he refused, saying you had ordered him otherwise.”  She turned her head slightly to glance up at him.  “It is not that it bothers me.  I suppose I am simply not used to it.”  

Alexander gave her a peck on the cheek.  “Well, get used to it.”  He continued reading.  “Elegant rather than extravagant.  I’m sure I will agree.  I have never seen you look anything other than beautiful.” 

Charlotte giggled.  “We’ll see if you still say so when I am sixty-five.”  

“That would make me seventy-three!  Are you planning to make me stick around that long?  Will you not be tired of me by then?”  

“I shall never tire of you,” she said sweetly and in earnest.  “I feel as though we could converse for a lifetime and never exhaust our topics of conversation.  It is one of the reasons I wish to marry you.”  She turned a bit to the side and snuggled into his shoulder.  “And if we happen to deplete our supply of conversational topics, then we shall just sit like this, enjoying one another’s company in silence.”  

“I love silence.” 

“I know.”  

“And I love you.”  

“I know that, too.” 

Alexander continued reading.  He chuckled.  “Even though I would give just about anything to have prevented Augusta from such a heartbreak, I must admit that having the Grand Lady of Sanditon feel as though she owes our family a debt is proving to be quite lucrative.  What did Mrs. Wheatley say, when you told her?” 

“Oh, she was quite disturbed initially.  You know her.  She practically had the entire event planned before we were even out of bed from illness.”  

“I’ve a feeling she had it planned in her mind before we were even engaged.  She knew I was in love with you before I did.”  Charlotte smiled and nodded in agreement.

“It’s in my next letter, but we visited Sanditon House together.  I spoke with Lady Denham and Mrs. Wheatley to the staff and it seems everything is in hand.”  

Alexander folded the letter and set it aside.  He seemed to read the next in its entirety before speaking.  “You should know that Henry Battlesford had nothing but effusive praise for you when I visited him this morning.  You’ve made quite the impression.  I am so glad that you hired a wet nurse for them.  It was very thoughtful and exactly the right thing to do,  What is her name?” 

“Anne.  Anne Baker.” 

“She and her son have moved in with the Battlesfords, it seems.  I may be mistaken, but I got the impression that she and Henry may be…uhm… comforting one another in their grief.” 

“Oh?” 

“It worries me.  He is more than twenty years her senior.  I hope she is not feeling that she has no choice in the matter.”  

“Did you get that impression?” 

“I am not a good judge of such things.” 

“Well, that may be true, but you are the finest of gentlemen for thinking of her.”  She could not help but lean up and kiss him.  She did so until she felt the urge to turn completely and face him.  As much as she wished to, she knew it was not what he wanted, or rather that it was and therefore he would not appreciate it.  “I will speak with her next time I visit.”  She settled back into his shoulder.  Alexander read the next letter.  She heard him laughing. 

“Did I write something funny?” 

“No.  You said that you hoped I found something lovely to amuse me, but instead, I had my arm fully engulfed in a cow’s vagina while Mr. Starling accused me of leaving you in a predicament that would force us to marry!”  They both shook with laughter and then turned abruptly to the window when Hannibal seemed to be laughing with them.  “What in the world? What is that horse doing?”  Hannibal, it seemed, was tired of the rain and had pulled loose his tether and walked under the cover of the front porch.  He stood at the broken window letting Alexander know of his discontent.  Alexander stood and walked onto the porch.  He pulled the animal forward and then backed him to the end of the porch so that he was completely covered and then tied him off again.  Charlotte strained to hear him, listening intently over the now popping fire.  “Sorry boy.  I should have thought of putting you under here in the first place but I was worried about Charlotte.  You understand, don’t you?”  Hannibal knickered.  “I know.  You love her, too, don’t you?”  Alexander retrieved an apple from the saddlebag and fed it to the animal.  

Meanwhile, Charlotte had righted the green coat, quickly buttoning only a few buttons for modesty and now leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching intently.  “For future reference, if you spoil our children the way you spoil that horse, we shall have a household of nothing but whining.”  Alexander smiled shyly and looked at his feet.  “And also, why are you feeding your horse and not your wife?”

An embarrassed but defensive Alexander retrieved another apple from his bag and walked toward her.  “I was going to bring it to you, you know, if you would have waited inside like an obedient wife should.”  He took a bite as he teased her with his eyes.  

“Obedient!  Alexander Colbourne!”  Charlotte feigned offence and stomped to the saddlebags herself.  “There are no more apples!”  

“Of course not.  I only brought two – one for me and one for him.”  He laughed and held out the remainder of the apple to her, placing a sticky kiss on her forehead.  “Enjoy the rest, My Love.”  

Charlotte shook her head at him, pulled the collar of the coat up over her head and stepped momentarily back into the rain to retrieve the kettle.  She handed it to Alexander and took a bite of the apple.  He hung the kettle on the fire and turned to her.  

“So, are you going to tell me what has put you in such a contemplative mood today?”  She hoped that their conversations had helped him to feel comfortable enough to tell her.  She took another bite of her apple as she waited, attempting to look like she was not going to take “no” for an answer without being overbearing.  She watched his body immediately tense,  

He closed his eyes, nodded, and said simply, “It is Lucy’s birthday today.  And Abigail’s too, of course.”

Charlotte set her apple immediately on the table and walked the few steps to take his hands.  “Xander, why didn’t you tell me?”  

He shrugged. “I did not want to bother you with it.  You have enough happening with the wedding. And in all honesty, I was not expecting it to affect me so much this year.  I felt as though I had forgiven her.  Forgiven myself.  My reaction has taken me a bit by surprise.”  

“Help me,” Charlotte said rather suddenly, and motioned for him to lift the opposite end of the spindle-backed bench that served as seating in the small space.  They moved it to face the fire and Charlotte sat at the far end.  Alexander stood still, wondering what she was doing.  “Come here,” she said as she retrieved the saddle blanket and sat at the farthest end.  Though he felt somewhat childish in doing so, Alexander, so long alone, laid on the bench and placed his head in her lap.  She put the blanket over him.  The feeling of her fingers in his hair was so far beyond intoxicating, he could not have described it if he tried.  

“I was at Ralph’s sister’s wedding when Mary arrived in Willingden to deliver the news of Sidney’s death.  She was kind enough to travel and tell me in person, being the only one aware of what had actually happened between us.  He had a widow, of course, and so I grieved him in private.  When Mary invited me to return, with Alison, I thought I was ready and then I was suddenly in a place where everything reminded me of him – his portrait in the hallway, the beach where we played cricket, the cliff where he first kissed me.”  She laughed.  “The first cove outside of town where I was walking and, not knowing I was there, he simply popped from the waves wearing absolutely nothing!”  Alexander turned to look up at her, eyes wide.  She smiled and nodded in confirmation.  He settled back into his previous position on his side, not wanting to be too long without the glorious sensation of her fingers in his hair.  “I think what I am trying to say is that grief is a funny thing.  You believe yourself to be past it and then, for whatever reason, one day you find yourself once again in its grip.  And there is nothing wrong with that.  The fact that it can still affect you in such a way shows your humanity.” 

He was silent for a long time, an occasional shake in his shoulders the only sign of his weeping, for she could not feel his tears through the coat.  She offered him the hand that was not in his hair and he grasped it for strength, pressing his lips to her palm.  “I was feeling especially guilty today because I realised that I never truly loved her, now that I know how love actually feels.  And she had to die for me to learn that.  She had to die for us to meet.  I stood at her grave and for the first time I did not feel sorry that she died.  What kind of man does that make me, Charlotte?”  

“A human one.”  

They sat and listened to the rain on the roof and Hannibal’s occasional huffing and watched Luna’s legs twitch as she slept in front of the fire.  When he seemed to have settled, Charlotte suggested, “We should take the girls to Lucy’s grave before dinner.  It is the right thing to do, I think, to let them grieve in their own way and to support them if they need it.”  

“Yes.”  He agreed quietly.  “Will you read me your last letter before we go?”  

Charlotte leaned forward and partially out from under him to retrieve the letter from the floor and then settled in to reading. “Dearest Alexander, I cannot accept your apology because I already accepted it long ago.” 

“You did?”  

“I did.”  She continued.  Reading aloud was far more difficult than committing it to paper.  “Has anyone ever told you that you speak with your eyes?  The day that I visited Heyrick Park with Georgiana, you told me that the girls missed me, but I knew that you were speaking of yourself as well.  Your eyes told me.  You speak…” 

“Why did you stop?” 

“That is where it crosses the panel and becomes illegible.  Let me see…”  She knew what she had said but she scanned the smeared contents for hints of exactly how she had written it.  “I believe I said that you also speak with your hands and that when our fingers touched at the recital, they told me of your regret.”  

Alexander rolled onto his back and looked up at her, reaching up to brush her cheek.  “How did I earn such luck, to have found someone who understands me better than I understand myself?”

“Love is not a static state.  Working to understand is part of it.”  She kissed her finger and placed it on his lips.  He puckered in return. 

“I love you more, again.”  

Their two sets of gleaming eyes became so absorbed in one another that they both forgot to speak.  Charlotte lazily wound her finger here and there on his face.  She looked to the end of the letter to try to jog her memory.  “You wrote in your letter about your heart coming and going with my arrival and departure.  It was very sweet, Xander.”  

“It is true.”  

“Well, it was true for me as well.  My heart swelled in the mornings when the house came into view and it became more and more difficult to leave it.  I almost didn’t, after we retrieved Leo.  But you did not come home and I had assured Mrs. Wheatley that all was well with you and Colonel Lennox.  I was afraid that if I stayed she would know that I was concerned.  By that time, I was already thinking of Heyrick Park as my home.  Even before we kissed I thought that once Alison left for the summer I would request to live in as a full-time governess, so that I would not need to endure the coming and going.  But then…” 

“Then, you thought that you would have no need to ask.” 

“Yes.  And I know now what your intentions were, when you came to Trafalgar House.  But I was so terribly sore, from Sidney and from you, that I denied you the opportunity to find your words.  My letter concludes ‘I am sorry too, My Love; but let us be sorry no longer.  We have a lifetime of love to come.”  Her voice choked, but she swallowed and continued.  “You are a gentleman of the finest quality, Alexander Colbourne, and I am proud to call you my husband.  All My Love, Charlotte.’”  Her tear fell down her own cheek and landed on his below her.  He wiped it away and laid flat on his back, eyes closed, still and quiet.  After a few moments, he began fiddling with his ring.

“Alexander, are you nervous?” 

“No, why?” 

“You usually fiddle with your ring when you're feeling uncertain about something.”  

“I am uncertain of something.”  

“Oh?”  

“I am uncertain of my ability to continue to lay here and enjoy your presence without giving into the urge to devour you and be your husband here and now.”  

Charlotte giggled.  “Well, perhaps we should have that warm drink and then you can help me put my clothes back on, if that is acceptable to you.”  

“That is acceptable to me.”

Fully warmed, fully clothed, and only slightly damp, Alexander once again lent her a stirrup to rise.  

“Should I not ride in front if we are going into town?”  

“We are not going into town.”  He smiled.  “We are going home.”  

“I do not have a change of clothing, Alexander, and I cannot come to dinner at Heyrick dressed like this!”  

“You do have a change of clothing.  Several of them, actually.”  

“Alexander,” she said suspiciously, “what did you do?”  

“I don’t know, actually.  All I did was pay the bill.  Susan and Mary did the picking.  I believe the bill said three day dresses, one for evening, and a collection of appropriate underclothing.  Shall we go home?”   

Charlotte squeezed him tightly and kissed him behind the ear.  “Yes.  Home.”                       

***

Leonora stood, holding Alexander’s hand.  “Papa, why am I sad?   I did not even know her.” 

“Perhaps you are sad because you never got to.”  

“Mama says it is fine to miss what I never had.”  

“Well, as I told you yesterday, your mama is a very smart lady.”

“Do you think my mother would be glad that mama is here with us?”  

“I do.” 

“Me too.”  Leo stepped forward and touched Lucy’s stone.  “Good-bye, mother.  I will visit again soon.”  Alexander stepped forward and joined her.  

“Papa?” 

“Yes, Leo?” 

“May I have a ride back to the house?”  

Alexander smiled.  Only a child could change moods so quickly without a thought or care.  “Yes Leo.”  He smiled and knelt for her to hop on his back and tucked his arms under her knees.  

“Haya!”  Leo shouted.  Alexander reared back and jogged to catch Charlotte and Augusta, walking arm in arm to the House.  

“I don’t know about the rider, but this horse is hungry for dinner!”

“Yes!  Dinner!”  

And the assembled family of Heyrick Park went together to eat.   

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

“A visitor, Sir, Ma’am,” the maid said at the parlour doorway.  

“Ah!  Mr. Stringer.”  Otis greeted their evening guest.  “Please, do come in.  I hope you found the place without too much difficulty.” 

“I did, indeed, Mr. Molyneaux.  Your directions were excellent.”  

“I would like to take credit, but they were my wife’s directions.  She is far more familiar with this part of town than I.  Now, once we are in Stepney to look at the property, then we will be in my territory.”  

James Stringer smiled and examined the home.  “This home is a fine example of the current trends in residential design.”  

Georgiana spoke in turn.  “It is not our home, Mr. Stringer.  Mr. and Mrs. Parker have been kind enough to allow us to stay here in their London home until we find lodgings of our own.”  

“You are just married, then?” 

“Yes.  A bit over two weeks ago,” Georgiana replied.  

“My congratulations to you both.”  

“Shall we?” Otis asked, and motioned to the blue parlour sofas.  

“So, you wish to build, what was it you said in your letter?  ‘Housing that is affordable and clean.  Simple but with modern amenities.’”  

“There is a lack of middle-class housing for those of our heritage, sir.  There are many black people who are making a life for themselves here in England.  They are merchants, businessmen, tradesmen and the like.  They wish to have decent housing for their families.  But the housing available to them in black neighbourhoods is substandard and the housing that is of a level they would wish to rent or purchase is in places they are not welcome.  We wish to build an apartment building that will provide such housing.  We will live there and also gain income from the property.”  

“It seems both noble and practical, Mr. Molyneaux.  Do you have a site chosen?”  

“Our lawyer informs us that there is a property currently covered in shacks on the edge of Stepney, not far from St. Dunstan’s on the Shadwell side.  It is just over an acre with two-hundred-fifty feet of frontage.” 

“That is a nice size for such a project.  Is it square?” 

“Not quite.” 

“Well, I cannot draw plans, of course, until I have surveyed the site, but we can throw about some ideas if you like.”  

“Certainly.” 

James removed his pencils and slightly over-sized paper from his bag. “Now, what amenities, specifically, are you considering?”  

Georgiana began.  “Apartments should have sleeping quarters separate from living quarters.  Preferably, some will have two sleeping quarters for larger families.” 

“Alright.  What else?” 

Georgiana continued to share the list she had been building in her mind.  “There must be easy access to fresh water for everyone, and a high-quality stove for cooking and heating.  And, the windows should open to allow for fresh air when the weather is mild.”

“Well,” James began to sketch as he talked.  “If the property allows, we could build in a U or even a square with a courtyard in the middle.  This would allow for windows on both sides of each apartment for the breeze to flow through.  The communal area could be in the middle of the square with water pumps.  If you like,” he pulled out a blank page and began drawing a device that resembled a pulley, “we could even build balconies on the courtyard side from which people could raise and lower buckets to be filled by those in the courtyard. This would help to quicken access to fresh water, rather than needing to walk the stairs.”  

Georgiana was beaming as she listened.   

Mr. Stringer continued.  “Now, we could place the larger apartments with two sleeping quarters at the corners of the building and the single apartments toward the middle, depending upon the survey of the property.  We might also place the larger apartments along the longer side of the building and the single apartments at the ends.  Finally, the stove for each unit should be placed on the exterior side of the building so that the vents do not make the air in the courtyard unpleasant.”  

“Well, Charlotte has often spoken highly of you and your talents, Mr. Stringer!  I can see that she was not in error.”      

“Miss Charlotte Heywood?”

“Yes.”

“She spoke…of me?”  He swallowed. 

“Yes.  She regards you quite highly, Mr. Stringer.”  

“I can absolutely say the same.  Please give her my warmest regards when you next see or write to her.”    

“I will be seeing her this week.  We are travelling to Sanditon for her wedding.  She is to be married to a Mr. Alexander Colbourne of Heyrick Park, which is just outside Sanditon.  He is a widower with a daughter and niece, who is his ward.”  

“She is happy, then?” 

“Indeed.  She loves him and the girls very much, and he loves her.”  

“Well then, please offer her my congratulations as well.”  

“I will do so.”  

Otis returned the conversation to business.  “Here is the calling card for our Lawyer, Mr. Samuel Colbourne.”  

Mr. Stringer had a puzzled look on his face.

“Soon to be Charlotte’s brother-in-law,” Georgiana clarified.  

Otis continued.  “After the wedding, he is returning to London before us.  He is beginning the paperwork for the sale of the property and has offered to take you to the site for a survey.  We will be returning to London in three weeks.”  

“Excellent,” Mr. Stringer’s excitement at having a project of his own was beginning to shine through his business-like countenance.  “I will have the site plan ready, and some sketches of façades.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stringer.”  Otis offered his hand.  “We look forward to working with someone who shares our vision for the project.”  

“As do I, Mr. Molyneaux.  Good evening,” he said as he placed his hat on his head and tipped the brim before departing.  

As soon as he was gone, Georgiana jumped on Otis in joy.  He kissed her and spun her around and their sounds of joy rang through the rooms of the house.  

Mr. Stringer stepped out onto the porch with a smile on his face but a small twinge on his heart.  “Charlotte Heywood is getting married,” he sighed.  He placed his hat on his head and strolled down the steps placing that part of him that still held out hope to rest.    

***

Tom entered the breakfast room.  “Charlotte, a messenger just brought this letter for you from Heyrick Park.”

“Who was the messenger?”  

“I did not get his name.”  

“Short with an untidy crop of ginger hair, or tall and lanky with brown and a dust of grey?” 

“The former.”  

“John Paxton.  He is one of the stable hands.  No doubt Alexander had him running Perses or Elektra as part of his mission.  He is very particular that they each get daily exercise.”  

Tom and Mary smiled at one another.  “Have I said something funny?”  Charlotte asked. 

“No, my dear.”  Mary replied.  “It is simply that you seem to be learning Heyrick Park quite well.”  

“And it is not a wonder considering you spent almost a week there while Mr. Colbourne was absent,” Arthur concluded.  “It is as if we have lost you already.’  

“You have not lost me, Arthur, and you will not!”  Charlotte sighed as she buttered her bread.  “I will admit though that I have come to love Heyrick Park and its occupants.  Much like the Old Town, it has its own heartbeat and rhythms that pass with the seasons and the requirements of planting and harvest.  Mrs. Wheatley and the staff have a rhythm, too, as they go about their daily tasks.  My only hope is that my presence will not be disruptive to them.  They have been so long without a Lady of the House.”

“Is it a big house?” Alicia asked.  

“It is quite large, indeed.  Not gigantic and grand like Sanditon house, mind you, and I am ever so glad of that!  It is large but still warm and alive with family and love.”

“I cannot wait to see it!” Henry replied.  “Leonora says that there is a stream with water snails and frogs and that she will take us there when we visit.”  

“Indeed, there is.  During her trip here, you showed her where to find the best shells on the beach and now, she shall show you where to find the best snails and frogs.”  The children beamed with excitement. 

“May we go today?” Alicia asked.  

“Now, now, children.” Mary replied, “We must allow Charlotte to focus on the wedding and her honeymoon first.  We shall visit in due course. Go and get yourselves ready for the beach.”  

Charlotte wiped her mouth with her napkin.  “I shall need to get ready as well.  Alexander’s note informs me that the entire family is to go riding today and that I am to dress appropriately, so I must go and change.  Thank You, for the delicious breakfast.  The peach jam was particularly marvellous.”  Charlotte exited the room with a hop in her step.    

Mary reached for Tom’s hand.  “It is so wonderful to see her happy.  I fear her heart has moved on from us already.”  

Tom nodded and smiled.  “‘Tis the natural course of things, my dear.  Natural course.  But, never fear.  Your dear friend shall be but a short carriage ride away.”  He squeezed her hand and she smiled in return.  

***

Charlotte approached the drive in front of Heyrick to find Alexander and Leo waiting for her, tossing sticks for Luna.  

“Mama!  Mama!”  Leo ran to her as soon as she spotted her.  “We are going riding today!  All of us.  Together!  I even get my own horse!”  

“How exciting!”  

Alexander approached, taking in her slightly-tattered pelisse, lacing boots, and brown rather than white stockings.  “Good morning,” he said as he held her shoulders and kissed her on the head.  Charlotte assumed it was the only affection he would show in front of Leo, and they both treasured the moment.  “You got my message, I see.”  

“I did.  A family ride?” 

“Indeed.  Even Augusta has agreed to join us.” 

“How lovely.”  

“And,” he smiled and raised his eyebrows, “I’ve a surprise.”  

“How intriguing.”  

“Come!”  He pulled her by the hand.  

They approached the stables to find Mr. Charleson and Mr. Paxton equipping Hannibal, Perses, Elektra, and Neebel.”  

“Your horses all have Greek and Roman names.  How did this fine miss come to be known as Neebel?” Charlotte patted the gentle creature’s nose.   

Alexander smiled.  “When Leo was small, I used to bring her to the stables.  She used to point to the mare and call it Hannibal, because their markings are so similar, but she could not pronounce it.  She kept saying ‘Nee-Bel!  Nee-Bel!’  And so, this horse became Neebel.”  Charlotte stared at him in wonder.  “What?  Why are you looking at me like that?”  

“I want to kiss you.” 

He smiled.  “Honestly, Charlotte.  First you are attracted to me when I talk about apple varieties and now a silly story about a toddler who mispronounces a horse’s name!  I believe I shall stop trying to make romantic gestures all together when it seems that you like me best when I am just…” He trailed off as he realised what he was saying.  He finally finished, “...myself.”  The realisation nearly brought tears to his eyes.  He swallowed and gathered himself and approached to assist her.  She put her hand on his shoulder.  

“You have always been a wonderful father.  You just didn’t know it.”  

“I am trying.”

“You are succeeding.” 

He squeezed her hand.  “Thank you.”  He leaned into her.  “You say such things to me and now I want to do far more than kiss you,” he whispered to her as he offered her his cupped hands to help her into her saddle.  She flashed a smile as she raised onto Perses and Alexander discreetly ran his fingers down the back of her calf as he walked away.

“Where are we headed, Uncle?”  Augusta asked.  

“To the fallow field by the stream, crossing two hills to the east.”  

“The stream with the trout?”  Leo asked, excitedly.  

“Yes, Leo.  That’s the one.”  

“Are we going fishing?”  Leo seemed to have springs in her feet.    

“We might try to toss a line or two.  Now Leo, remember what we practised yesterday.  Be calm and in control and Neebel will do as you ask.  She is a gentle soul, but she will follow your lead and if you are overly excited, she will be, too,  Nothing more than a walk, today, alright?” 

“Yes, Papa.”  Her voice was both excited and dejected. Alexander lifted her into the saddle. 

“Are we ready everyone?”  Hannibal was chomping at the bit, used to a workout in the morning.  “Not today, boy.  Only a walk when the others are with us.”  Alexander reached out to pat the horse’s neck.  

“Wants to run, does he?”  Charlotte pulled up beside him on Perses.  

“Indeed.  But while I know you can control Perses, the mares will follow what he does, so I must keep him calm today, for Leo’s sake.”  Charlotte reached out her hand across the gap to him.  Behind them, Leo and Augusta smiled. 

The family meandered through the tall grasses and past the fields where wheat, oats, and barley had grown before the harvest.  Charlotte broke the silence. 

“What inspired the family ride?”  

“I thought we should spend some time with the girls, before they leave with Samuel and Susan for London.” 

“What?” 

“Samuel and Susan want to take them to London for two weeks following the wedding, so that we may honeymoon.”

“That is kind.” 

“It is.  The girls are very excited, as you can imagine.” 

“Only…”

“Only what?” 

“Well, their situation is such that…perhaps…they might not be setting the best example?”  

“Yes.  I thought of that.  I’m not sure how we will explain it to them.  Augusta has enough knowledge of the world to understand Susan’s situation, I suppose, but Leo?  I’m not sure.”

“Why not ask them how they wish us to explain it, or let them explain it for themselves?”  

“That is a fine suggestion.  They are supposed to arrive for supper.  We can speak about it this evening.”  

A period of silence was again broken by Charlotte.  “Two weeks alone?  Whatever shall we do?” She reached for his hand once more.        

They pulled up along the stream.  Charlotte had never been to this part of the estate before.  The stream, which frankly seemed more the size of a small river, made a wonderful babbling sound as it tumbled over boulders and then pooled before continuing on its way to the sea. Charlotte dipped a finger in and placed it in her mouth.  “It is not nearly as brackish as I expected, so close to the sea.”  

“The mouth of this stream enters the river about a quarter-mile before it hits the sea.  There are a few small falls along the way and the tides tend to go up the river rather than the stream.”

“How do the trout get up here then, over the falls?” 

“They jump.” 

“Jump!” 

“Indeed.  It is quite the sight.  The salmon as well, though not this time of year.  We shall come again in the late spring or early summer.  With a net, we can eat salmon for weeks!”  

“Yum!”  

“Papa!  Papa!  Look!”  Leo pointed away from the stream toward a small grove of trees.  “There are targets!”  

Alexander laughed.  “Yes, Leo.  I know.  I set them up.”  

“When did you do that?” Charlotte asked. 

“Mr. Paxton and I came out early this morning.”  

“That’s why he had that devilish smile on his face this morning!”  She leaned toward the man she felt in so many ways was already her husband and whispered.  “He was in on the secret.”  

Alexander slid his hand around her waist as they watched Leo run off to gather a bow and quiver of arrows.  “Well, you showed great promise at Lady Denham’s party, even if your fine shot was not on my behalf.  I thought we could give a test of your skills, Miss Heywood.”  

“Alexander, I did not miss your shot on purpose!” 

“Is that so?” 

“Yes!  You…” She floundered and was suddenly quiet.  “I missed because I was nervous.  My heart was all a flutter with you standing so near, watching me.” 

“Everyone was watching you.”  

“I did not care about their eyes.”  She turned and looked up at him.  “Only yours.”  

“Let me ensure I am clear.  You were not scared a jot by Lennox and all of his showmanship and therefore made his shot, but you were scared by me, and missed mine?”   

“That is about the sum of it, yes.  But I was not scared of you.  I was scared of my feelings for you.  I was not quite sure what to make of them.”  

Alexander squeezed her into his side and kissed her temple.  “That is the second time you have said that I have the capacity to befuddle you.  I must admit that I relish that a bit.”  

“Well, no need to relish it now, for I am befuddled no longer.  I am not in any doubt.”  

“No?” 

“Absolutely not.”  She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek.  “Leo!  Be careful!”  Charlotte’s motherly eye refused to be entirely distracted by the man in front of her.  “We must review the safety rules first!”  Charlotte scampered across the grass to the grove of trees where Leo was attempting to knock an arrow.  “Wait for your father, Leo.  He set up the range and he shall tell us the rules.”  

Taken aback by Charlotte placing him in charge, Alexander nonetheless began the safety demonstration.  “The rules are simple.  Only shoot at the targets and never walk down range until all arrows have been fired and retrieval has been called.  Watch out for Luna.  Simple enough?”  

“Can we please shoot arrows now?” Leo begged.    

“Well not with that bow, you cannot.”  Alexander chuckled.  “It is much too large and too tightly strung for you, Leo.”  He walked back to the tree and retrieved the smaller bow.  “Now this one,” he smiled, “belonged to your Uncle Samuel when he was about your age and was passed to me when he got older.  I’ve re-strung it for you.”  

“Thank you, Papa!” 

“Are you ready?”  

Leo jumped.  “Yes!”  

“Alright.  Safety first.  You must roll your sleeve and put on your bracer.”  Alexander reached down, taking joy in helping his daughter to don her equipment.  “Now, do you see this small notch?”  He pointed to the feathered end of the arrow.  “That goes on the string.  We call that ‘knocking’ the arrow.”  Leo attempted to do so but dropped the arrow several times.  Dogged as ever, she kept trying, finally managing the feat.  “Good, Leo.  Now hold the arrow between your second and third fingers and rest the shank of the arrow on your hand to the left of the bow.  Front arm straight, back elbow level with the ground.”  Alexander was kneeling beside his daughter, rearranging her feet, her torso, her arms.  “Yes.  That’s good.  Now, release.”  Leo did.  Her arrow went about ten feet.  “That was a fine start, Leo.  Now keep practising and your arrows will go further and further.”  He turned to his niece.  “Do you wish to try, Augusta?”  

Charlotte chimed in.  “Come now, Augusta.  You’ve been reading Ivanhoe.  Shall we not have an archery tournament of our own?”  

“I will remind you that I grew up in London, Miss Heywood, not Willingden.  I’ve no idea how to shoot a bow.”  

Charlotte walked over and handed the young woman a longbow.  “Well then, now’s as good a time as any.”  Augusta prepared herself and Charlotte helped her with stance and positioning.  “Now, pretend that the target is Edward Denham’s head.”  

Leo was too distracted by her own bow to laugh, but Alexander nearly guffawed.  Augusta loosed the arrow and hit the target, in the ring just below centre.  “Well, perhaps it was his heart,” she snarked.  

“Or the hole where one should be,” Charlotte added.

Augusta continued to take shots, each one hitting the target though none in the middle.  Still, it was an excellent effort for a novice.  

“My shoulder is getting sore.”  She rotated the body part in response to the pain.  “I think I shall take a break.”  She stepped aside as Charlotte shot an arrow between Augusta’s, right to the middle of the target.  

“I believe you would give Locksley a run for his money, Aunt Charlotte,” Augusta said.  Charlotte’s heart seemed to take an extra beat.  Augusta had never used her name in that way.

“Thank you.”  

Alexander saw an opportunity to attempt to repair his relationship with Augusta.  “Have you been enjoying Ivanhoe , Augusta?  Have you any favourite characters?”  

Augusta looked to the side in thought and replied, “Rebecca, I think.”  

“And what is it about her that you enjoy?” 

“Well, she is everything, really – smart, beautiful, generous and kind.  She is fiercely loyal to herself and her people.  She is self-possessed without arrogance and self-sacrificing without expectation.  Why Ivanhoe would choose Rowena is completely beyond me.”  

“Rebecca is a Jew.  He could not.”  

“Why should that matter?  Alas, Rebecca also understands that wars of religion are a function of the idiocy of men!”

“Idiots are we?  Well, thank you very much.”

“Indeed, there is a sore lack of open-minded men in this world.  You already know this.  You were one of them.”  

“Augusta!” Charlotte offered a tone of warning.  The young woman turned her back and kicked the ground.  Charlotte motioned with her hand for Alexander to follow, encouraging him not to let the moment slip by.

Alexander approached her quietly.  “Augusta?”  She did not reply.  He sighed and looked again at Charlotte, unsure of what to do.  Without the words to continue, he extended his hand to his niece’s shoulder.  

“I did not mean you, Uncle, nor Uncle Samuel.  Alas, I think you are two of a kind and that there are no more of you in the world.  Nor any like…like…”  She choked on her words.   

“Like your father?”  Alexander asked quietly.   

“Yes.”

“You are still allowed to grieve for them, Augusta.  Grief takes many forms.  You will think you are past it and then, one day, for no reason in particular, you will find yourself in its grip again.”  He stepped up beside her.  “Someday, Augusta, a man is going to appreciate you for everything that you are and all of your Rebecca-like qualities.  Until that day arrives, you shall have a home with us here, for as long as you like.”   

“You are no-longer going to force dull, foppish boys upon me?”  

“We shall continue to socialise in Sanditon, in Bath, in London, and if someone piques your interest, so be it.  You will never meet anyone if we do not go out.  But I will never force you to choose someone just for the sake of it.  You deserve happiness, Augusta, and a man who appreciates the prize of your love.”  

There was a silent beat as Charlotte looked on adoringly.  Suddenly, Augusta’s bow clanked to the ground as she turned and wrapped her arms around Alexander.  He stood for a moment in shock, looking over Augusta’s shoulder at Charlotte, before releasing his own bow to the ground and embracing his niece.  He hugged her carefully, almost reticently, but she leaned into him and he suddenly found himself quite overcome.  

“I cannot replace your father, Augusta, but I do love you.”          

“Yes!” The sweet silence was broken by Leo, who had been practising the entire time and finally stuck an arrow into the target.  

Charlotte could tell that Alexander was overloaded by the emotion.  She picked up Alexander’s bow and quiver and handed them to him.  “Kindly step aside, Augusta, so that this Rebecca can show Locksley here how this is done.”  

Alexander smiled broadly at her, keen to see exactly how good she actually was.  He quickly learned that her shot for him at the garden party was indeed a fluke, and that her shot for Lennox was most definitely not.  They each landed their first three arrows in the centre two rings of the target.  Alexander called for retrieval and Leo ran down range to grab their arrows.  

“How did you get so good at this, My Love?” he asked.  

“Easy.  I am the oldest.  There were three girls before there were any boys.  It was a necessity.  I had to shoot for my supper.”  She looked at him and raised her eyebrows.  “I can shoot a rifle as well.  I daresay that Edward Denham would not have been the Gun of the Day if I had been allowed to participate.”  Alexander chuckled and smiled at her as Leo handed them their arrows.  “You don’t believe me?” 

“I do believe you.  I am imagining the look on everyone’s face at the shooting party when a woman takes the trophy.”  

“Well, perhaps we shall have to host another next season.”  She smiled wickedly.      

After several rounds, Alexander deduced that the girls were quietly rooting for Charlotte, though they tried not to show it.  With each shot Charlotte took, he inched a bit closer to her, hoping his presence could once again manage to befuddle her.  At long last, he was nearly breathing down her neck and she still showed no signs of relenting.  Worse yet, she was beginning to do the same thing to him, and he was well-aware that she would un-nerve him eventually.  How she would do it was the question.

As Leo once again retrieved the arrows, Charlotte asked, “How did you learn to shoot?” 

“Sam and I used to spend hours out here practising.  It was a good way to get out of the house.” 

“Let me guess, you defeated him every time?”  

“Not when I was small, but by the time I was about ten or so, yes.  He doesn’t have the patience.”

“I will be so happy to see them this evening.  I hope their visits to Heyrick will be plentiful.”  

“As do I.  I must admit that I am enjoying having Sam back in my life.  He has changed a lot in the decade we were apart.”  He shot his first arrow of the round dead centre.

“I am glad.  Given that you have only one brother, it is important that you support one another.”  She matched his shot. 

“You have eleven siblings and only one is speaking with you at the moment.  How is that any better?”  

“Actually, I received a letter yesterday from Winston and Zachary.  It was very kind.  They say you are a gentleman and a farmer.  They asked that I write back to them to affirm that I am, in fact, in love with you and if so, they support the match.”

Alexander took another shot.  The arrow bounced from the target, but only because it was so accurate that the two arrows already in the bulls-eye blocked it from landing.  “And your father?”  

Charlotte took her shot before speaking.  It landed just where the bullseye met the first circle.  “He also wrote.  His letter was accepting, if not supportive.  He simply stated that he appreciated the honour of your call, that you had earned his respect as a gentleman, father, and farmer, and that he accepts that you can provide me with the life I desire.  He gave his blessing for the match, though he said he knows that I would marry you either way.”  

Alexander reached for her shoulder.  “I am sorry if that is not as you had hoped.” 

“It is something.  A place to start.”  

They played the fifth round in silence.  By the sixth, both of them were becoming tired.  During her final shot, Alexander leaned over Charlotte’s shoulder and whispered, “Fathomless.”  She still landed the arrow, though it was slightly right of centre this time.  He would take that as a success.  Now, all he had to manage was to nail his own shot.  

As he took aim he could feel her sauntering behind him, discreetly allowing a single finger to traipse across his buttock.  He steeled his nerves, but she waited until the last moment and just as he was about to release his arrow whispered, “Wedding night,” in his ear.  His arrow hit the target in the outside ring.  He lowered his head in defeat.  The girls cheered.

“Finally!” Augusta offered. 

“May we go fishing now?” Leo whined.       

“I assume you made fishing rods in Willingden, too?”  He looked at his future wife.  

“Of course.” 

“Good.  Break some green branches.  I will get the string and hooks from the saddle bag.”  He squeezed her hand.  

The afternoon was spent fishing, picnicking, and wading in the chilly fall waters.  The family laughed, splashed, and had the best time any of them could remember.  Alexander allowed Leo to trot through the field as he ran alongside her.  Charlotte allowed Alexander to feed her a grape, a gesture at which Leo giggled and Augusta rolled her eyes.  They lay on the blanket in the autumn sun, holding hands and cherishing the life they were building.  

The girls took one last splash in the stream as Charlotte and Alexander were packing the saddle bags to leave. Alexander stepped behind Charlotte and wrapped her in an embrace.  

“This day, Charlotte.  This is all because of you.  I don’t know that I will ever be able to thank you enough for what you have done for us.”  He spun her in his arms and brushed her cheek.  “But I will try.  Every day.”  

“Xander, that is very sweet, but there is no need.  You shall have my eternal gratitude as well.”  

“Oh?  Why is that?” 

“Because I shall be Mrs. Colbourne and not Mrs. Starling!  I shall have as many children as I choose , and not as many as I can possibly have!  I shall teach at the school.  I shall have stimulating conversations.  I can walk by the sea whenever I choose.”  She ran her pointer finger down his chest.  “And I shall love and be loved, every day.”  She peeked up over his shoulder and over Hannibal to ensure the girls were still at the stream before rising on her toes to kiss him.  

He hummed in the back of his throat, gently grazing her tongue with his before pulling away.  With palms on either side of her face he said, “Engagement to you is the most exquisite form of torture.”  He kissed her again, pulling her tight against him as he ran his hands down her back.  He nuzzled away the collar of her pelisse and buried his lips in her neck.  “Are the girls still at the stream?” 

“Yes.” 

“Good.”  He reached up to cup her breast, despite the layers of clothing.  “God, I want to kiss every inch of you – to know every bit of your body and have you know mine.”  

Charlotte tapped his shoulder blade to let him know the girls were leaving the stream.  “Three days,”  she whispered.  

“Three days,” he repeated.  He righted her clothing and placed a tiny kiss on her forehead before turning back to his saddle bags.  They both pretended to fiddle with the buckles while attempting to slow their racing hearts.  Though their backs were facing, the fire still burned between them.

Alexander turned to his daughter racing across the field and scooped her up into his arms and onto her horse.  He turned and took Charlotte's hand, rubbing his thumb along her finger.  His eyes sparkled with the promise of many more days such as this.  The family headed back to the house - one man, his three ladies, his dog, his four horses, and two trout for supper.      

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Samuel stepped out of the carriage in front of Heyrick Park and before he could offer Susan a hand, Leo had her arms around his waist.  

“Hello, Uncle!  We have missed you!” 

“Why, thank you, Leo!”  

“With you and Lady Susan gone, and Mama busy getting ready for the wedding, there have been no plays or sword fights!”

“Well,” he said as he reached over Leo’s head to offer Susan a hand from the carriage, “We shall have to remedy that right away!”  He mouthed, “Sorry,” to Susan as Leo tugged on his arm and led him astray.  

“Welcome back, Lady De Clement,” Augusta attempted to cover for her cousin’s lack of manners. 

“Susan, please, and thank you.”  

“Might we offer you some refreshment after your journey?” 

“That would be delightful, Augusta.”

The ladies entered the main hall as Alexander stepped from the study, late to greet his guests.  

“My apologies, Susan, for not being here to greet you.” He bowed slightly.  “I fear I lost track of the time.  I’m sure Charlotte will be down momentarily.  She is just changing for dinner after our outing today.”  

“Have no fear.  We were exuberantly greeted by the Official Heyrick Greeting Committee, the president of whom seems to have absconded with Samuel.  Is it estate business that has you locked away in your study?”  

“Yes.  I am trying to put everything in order now so that these tasks will not be competing with Charlotte for my attention after the wedding.” 

“A wise man.”  Susan smiled.  “I’m sure you will have other places you will wish to direct your attention.” 

Alexander reddened and quickly changed the subject.  “Did Augusta offer you some refreshment?”  

The teenager rolled her eyes.  “Of course I did, Uncle!  What type of deficient hostess do you believe me to be?”

“My apologies.  Please, Susan, make yourself at home.  What’s ours is yours and I will join you as soon as I am able.”  

“Thank you.”  

Susan and Augusta sat on the settee in the drawing room, enjoying their tea and the tiny sandwiches the kitchen had provided.  

“How are you feeling, Augusta, after your ordeal?”  

“The emotions change daily, it seems.  Sometimes I am still so angry with myself, and at him of course.  Other days, I feel proud and resilient.  On a few occasions I have thought that I didn’t really love him at all, only the idea of him, and of escape.  On others, I think that the man who turned me away with such heinous words must have been the counterfeit and the real man was the one I had come to know.”  

“Those all seem like perfectly normal reactions.”

“But I no longer possess the desire to leave as I once did.  I must admit that since Charlotte’s return, Uncle Alex seems an entirely different man.  After all these months of telling me that he would be remiss in his duty if he did not find someone for me to marry, he now tells me that I can stay at Heyrick as long as I wish!” 

“He cares very deeply for you, Augusta.  As does Samuel, despite how short a time you have been in his acquaintance.  He was quite worried while you were gone.” 

Augusta looked down into her teacup.  “Yes.”  She smiled reticently.  “This afternoon, Uncle Alex told me that he knew he could never replace my father, but that he loved me all the same.  It was the first time he has ever said such a thing to me.”  

“And how does that make you feel, my dear?” 

“Content for the moment, I suppose.”  

“Good.”  Susan poured some tea from the pot Mrs. Wheatley had delivered and took a spoonful of honey, stirring the cup of liquid in smooth, circular strokes. “Is everyone excited for the wedding?” 

“Yes.  Leo most of all.  She has already been calling Charlotte ‘Mama’ for weeks.”

Voices echoed from down the hall.  First, there was some sort of growling.  Then, Samuel appeared in the doorway with green trousers on his head which he was flailing around as he made the noises.  Leo was wacking at the trousers with her wooden sword.  

“You shall not burn the town, nasty dragon!” She shouted.  “I shall extinguish you with a sword to the heart!”  She stabbed Samuel, who dramatically fell to the ground, this time landing on his stomach.  Somehow, no matter what story they were telling, it always seemed to end with Samuel getting stabbed.  This time, he remained on the floor, silent and face-down.  The leg of the trouser covered his face.  Leo poked him with her sword.  He did not move.  She tried again.  “Uncle Samuel?”  Susan and Augusta tried their hardest not to give away Samuel’s secret, knowing that he was waiting for the opportune moment to safely swipe her legs from under her.  Finally, his moment came and he twisted half-way around, pulling Leo behind the knees, landing her safely in his lap and tickling her until she cried for mercy.  

“Well, someone is happy to once again have a playmate.” Alexander smiled in the doorway.

“Xander.  Hello.”  Samuel stood and brushed himself off, removing the trousers from his head.  Alexander laughed.  The ladies seemed overtaken by giggles. 

“Have I done something funny?” Samuel asked.    

“Come here, my dear.”  Susan urged him.  “Your hair looks as though you have just risen from bed.”  She quickly made the best she could of it.  “Sit.  Have some tea with the adults.”  Samuel leaned over and gave her a quick peck before they sat.  Augusta looked down, embarrassed at such a show, nonchalant and chaste as it was.  Alexander smiled, glad to see Samuel so settled and seemingly happy.  

“Well, Brother, are you ready for the big day?  It is but three days now.”  

“My heart was ready months ago, even if my brain was not prepared to follow.”  He paused and let out something of a contented sigh.  “In truth, I am counting the hours.”  

Augusta smiled at his admission.  He was, indeed, a different man than the one she thought she knew.  Was he always so soft in his heart, she wondered, despite his cool exterior?  Perhaps the cool exterior protected the soft heart? Had she not seen it because of her own grief?  Or was he never so before Charlotte?  Whatever the reason, she knew that she loved him, too, though she’d yet to bring herself to say it.  

Samuel straightened and stretched his leg “I cannot sit again after the carriage ride.  Walk with me, brother?” 

“Certainly.”  

They headed out the front door and down the lane, taking in the autumn colours as a gentle breeze blew Samuel’s hair once again out of position.  Alexander, whose hair was often out of position, could not have cared.  He tilted his chin back, face to the sun, and let the breeze blow his curls this way and that.  

“So,  How are you actually feeling?” 

“As I said, I am quite happy and excited to get on with it.  Charlotte spends most of her time here at Heyrick already.  It will be very nice when she no longer needs to leave at end of day.”

Samuel smirked.  “I’m sure it will be.”  

Alexander stopped and rolled his eyes.  “What is it that you actually want to say to me?  

“Nothing in particular.  I just wanted to have a conversation with my soon-to-be-married younger brother in a place where we do not have to worry about the sensitivities of the ladies or the prying ears of staff.” 

“My staff does not pry.  They are paid well for their discretion.”

“Indeed.  I’m sure Mrs. Wheatley would not have it any other way and they all seem very pleased to have a new lady for the manor.”

“I believe they are.”  They walked for about a quarter-mile in silence.  Alexander could feel Samuel’s eyes on him and it was disconcerting.  “Samuel?” 

“Yes brother?” 

“What was it you wished to speak about?” 

“Yes.  If you don’t mind my saying so…”

“I’m nearly certain that I do.” 

Samuel pushed onward.  “Right. Well, unless your habits have changed more than I would expect since you left London all those years ago, then I assume it has been a while since you…“  His voice drifted off in a suggestive manner.  

Ugh .  Alexander growled internally.  He’d expected this conversation at some point from Samuel.  He’d assumed that it would happen while they were in London and when it did not, he was sincerely hoping he had gotten away with not having it!  “Since I what?” 

“...travelled down an alley, as it were.”  

“I am not having this conversation.”  

“I know you would never do so for yourself, but do you need me to acquire a lady for you to…uhm… practice, before the big event?”  

“How can you even suggest such a thing? The very idea is abhorrent!  No!  I don’t need practice!  If I thought I’d needed the practice, I’d have done so in London, not here in Sanditon where everyone knows everyone else's business! Jesus, Sam!” 

Samuel held up his palms in defence.  “I understand that you hold yourself above such things, brother.  But it is perhaps not as abhorrent as you might think.  Many of them are quite good at what they do, and, if you told them of the situation, would make it their mission to remind you how.”  

“No, Sam!  Move on, please.”  

“You are sure?”  

“That’s enough, Samuel!”  The older brother signalled his surrender.  Alexander calmed his own agitation.  Sam was just trying to be his older brother, as odd, and in this case inappropriate, as that was.  “I assure you, brother, that everything is and will be as it should.  Were it not for my desire to ensure that she is entirely comfortable and free from the pressures of being discovered, we would already be husband and wife.”  

“She has been willing?” 

“Your questions are entirely inappropriate,” Alexander informed him, then added quietly with a sly smile, “Exceedingly.  Believe me when I tell you that maintaining our self-control has been a herculean task.  Now, might we change the subject?  Were you able to meet with my solicitor to confirm the changes to the will?”  

“Yes.”

“Thank you.  I appreciate your trained eye on the matter.”  

“Of course.  I would write it myself were it ethical for me to do so.  I suppose this is the next best thing.”  

“I agree.  How were things in your practice after I left?  I know you did not speak the entire truth at dinner that evening.  The four clients that left…I assume His Majesty requested they end their association with you?”  

“Yes.”          

“Wouldn’t Susan want to know that?”  

“Of course she would.  She already suspected as much before we left Sanditon.” 

“But you are afraid that if you tell her, she will decide that the relationship is costing you too much and end it.”  The older brother nodded confirmation.  “And losing her is not a risk you are willing to take.” 

“I do not ever remember you being so perceptive, brother.”  

“Might I suggest that in not telling her, you are taking the very risk you are trying to avoid?”  

“She cannot act on information she does not have.” 

“No.  But she can act when she finds out that you did not believe in her, or her love, enough to allow her the choice.”  Alexander stopped walking and looked at his brother squarely.  “You cannot make the choice for her, Samuel.  She deserves to know.  Tell her.  Consult her.  Ask her opinion.  Develop a solution together.  She knows her own mind.  Let her use it.”  

“My brother the sage.”  Samuel smiled.  “Am I not the older, wiser brother?”  

“In many ways, I suppose you are, but not in this.  My ignorance in such matters cost me my first marriage, and nearly cost me my opportunity to marry the love of my life.  It almost cost Augusta everything.  Trust me, Samuel.  Tell her.”  

“I plan to.  I just wanted to have a solution first.”  

“That’s what I mean, Sam!  Let her be part of the solution.”  

Samuel smiled.  Alexander was puzzled that his brother was not angrier at being told what to do.  Samuel looked at the younger man as he said his unexpected words.  “You know, I shall always be thankful to Charlotte for stealing your heart.  Had you not been trying to impress her with your grand gesture, we would still be estranged.  I am enjoying having a brother again.”  

“As am I, Sam.  As am I.”  

“Congratulations, brother.  It is a fine match.  There could not be a finer lady for Heyrick Park.”  

Alexander sighed as he turned to look back at the house.  “She is the very air that I breathe, Samuel.  I know what it is to live without her and I never want to do it again.”

They returned to the house in contented silence and enjoyed dinner as a family.      

***

The following morning, Samuel rolled over in bed to avoid the light coming through the window and was greeted with a far more pleasant view – Susan, smiling at him.

“Good morning, dearest,” she said. 

“Good morning.”  He leaned in to kiss her. “Did you sleep well?” 

“I did.  Thank you.  What time is it?” 

“Dreadfully early.  Nonetheless, it seems we are both awake.  Shall we sneak to the water before the household wakes?”  

“A lovely thought.”  

They were in her room.  He kissed her once more and rose to throw on his trousers and shirt.  “I will meet you downstairs.”  

“Heyrick Park is a beautiful place,” Susan said as they walked through the rolling grasses.  “Though, I can understand why you’d no desire to own or control it.  So many of the men I know in London have country estates and they complain constantly about their upkeep and the cost of a steward.”

“Not to mention that I do not know the first thing about farming!  Neither did our father for that matter – hence the gigantic debt that came along with the ownership of the place.”  

“I do not get the impression that you hold a very favourable view of your father.” 

“Your impression is correct.  You described Lord DeClement as unkind.  The same could be said of our father.  There was not a kind bone in his body and rarely a kind word from his mouth.  Xander and I spent most of our childhood outside, roaming these grounds.”

“It is rather astounding, then, that he ended up with two such gentlemanly sons.”  

“Well, you can thank Eleanor Wheatley for that.” 

“Mrs. Wheatley?  The housekeeper?” 

“She is far more than that.  Our mother died giving birth to Xander.  I was but six.  ‘You’ll never be like him,’ she said.  ‘Observe everything that he does and train yourself to do the opposite.  Be the gentlemen your mother would wish you to be.’”  Susan smiled at him.  “Xander took that to heart at a far younger age than I did, I’m afraid.  But, perhaps I’m getting there.”

“You certainly are.”  She leaned her head into his shoulder.  “Is that why your brother does not drink?  Because of your father?” 

“Yes.”  They passed a lovely grove of large oak trees.  Their arching boughs created something of a shadowy cavern on the ground beneath them.  Susan smiled.  “You have an amused smile on your face.” Samuel observed.  

“I was just thinking of something Charlotte said in our last conversation before we left for London.  She was seeking my counsel on certain private topics having to do with marriage.”  Samuel raised his eyebrows at her.  “She told me that once, when they were roaming the grounds looking for Leo, your brother mentioned that he ‘knows all the best hiding places.’  Now I know why.”

“Oh?” 

“You were hiding from the house.  From your father.”  Samuel’s silence was confirmation enough of the accuracy of her statements.  “Charlotte also said that it seemed quite innocent at the time but that, in hindsight, she wonders if Alexander’s words had meaning beyond their surface.”  

“The man lived in abstinence for nearly a decade, and then a woman as exquisite as Charlotte walks into his life and is roaming the grounds with him? I can guarantee the impurity of his thoughts!”  

Susan nodded in the direction of the grove.  “I wondered if that might be one such place.”

“It is.”  Samuel smiled devilishly.  “Over the years that grove has been a mystery forest, the home of a dragon, and even a pirate ship.  And, I daresay that more than one fair Sanditon maid gave up a kiss or two to me in that very spot.”    

“You did say you were incorrigible.” 

Samuel stopped and kissed her with great admiration.  “I was.  I am.  But, that is not where I wish to take you this morning.”  He took her hand and they continued to walk until they came to a beautiful spot along the coast.  There was a large boulder surrounded by windswept grasses that were showing just a hint of brown with the approach of winter.  There was no beach below. The grey cliffs fell straight into the sea.  

“I have always admired this spot.” Samuel spoke as he leaned against a large boulder.  “It has such pleasant views of the sea and the rolling hills behind.  I used to sit on this rock and watch the ships come and go in the channel.  I could hear the shouts of the fisherman when they brought in a good haul.  I always thought my grandfather shortsighted for placing the house where he did.  I know he was trying to save money with the building of the road, but I think this a far superior spot – close to the sea, close to town, and beautiful in all directions.”  He turned to look at the woman beside him.  “Including this one.”  

“Very suave, sir.”  

“I thought so.”  He opened his arms and she leaned in against him.  He wrapped his arms around her from behind.  “What would you think if we built a house here?”

“You wish to live in Sanditon?” 

“Not all of the time, of course, but it would give us our own place when we are here.” 

“You do not like Heyrick Park?” 

“I do like Heyrick Park.  However, I’ve no doubt that within the next decade that house is going to be filled to the brim with the pitter-patter of tiny feet.  And as we’ve no plans for children of our own, I’m sure we will love spoiling them, one and all.”  

“And enjoy giving them back at the end of the day?”  

“Exactly.”  They laughed.

“And you would prefer this to a place in town?” Susan inquired.  

“What you prefer is far more important.”  

Susan turned in his arms to face him.  “My dear Samuel, I know you have dedicated yourself to my happiness, but that does not mean that yours should go entirely unaccounted.  Your happiness is just as important to me as mine is to you.”  

“I am thinking of splitting my practice, dividing my work between London and the south coast.  Mr. Gildenwalter, the lone solicitor in Sanditon, is getting on in years and has no one to take over his practice.  I have been corresponding with him and he is interested in a 6-month transition period to introduce me to clients, after which he would retire and sell the practice to me.”

“Do you have time to add that to your schedule?  I would think that after your victory in Miss Lambe’s case you would have a booming business in London.”  

“Yes.  It could seem that way, but I recently had another, far-more-important event in my life which has had the opposite effect.”  He brushed her cheek and kissed her gently.

“How many?”  Susan asked quietly. 

“Eleven in total.  I’m sure it will pass with time, but for now, it may make things more difficult.”  

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I am telling you.  And, I needed a chance to think about solutions first.  It would be unfair of me to lay it at your feet without giving it proper forethought.”  

“I’m so sorry, Samuel.”  

“Don’t be.  I would trade being with you against the ire of a King again and again for a lifetime.”  

Susan claimed his lips in thanks. “This really is a beautiful spot.  Town is not very far.  Socialising is nice.”  She kissed him again.  “Privacy is sometimes better.”  She smiled against his lips.  “Have you spoken with Alexander yet?” 

“No.  Nor have I accepted Mr. Gildenwalter’s offer.  There was no point in doing so unless you agreed.”  

“I am not used to a man who values my opinion.”  She turned once again to the sea and he wrapped his arms around her once more.  

“Get used to it.  Speaking of privacy,” he nuzzled his lips into her neck, “perhaps we should inspect that little grove on the way home, just to be sure that it still suits the purpose.”        

***

“You will not need your trousers in London, child!” Augusta scolded her cousin and removed said item from the trunk.

“But what if I want to play pirate with Uncle Samuel?”  

“Then you shall have to be a pirate who wears a dress.  I shan't have my cousin ruining my reputation on account of wanting to play pirates!”  

Leo put the trousers and her pirate hat back into the trunk.  “I am taking them!” 

“You are not!”  Augusta took them back out.  

“I am!” 

“No!” 

“Yes!”

“No!” 

“Ladies!”  Mrs. Wheatley stepped into the room and took the trousers before they were ripped apart.  “Miss Colbourne, you may take your trousers.” Leo stuck her tongue out at her cousin.  “However, you may only wear them inside the house and only when you are playing pirates with Mr. Samuel.  At all other times, you will wear a dress as you are told.  Your cousin is correct.  London is far more judgemental about such things.”  Augusta gave Leo a satisfied look, but did not lower herself to sticking out her tongue.  “Now,” Mrs. Wheatley continued, “Miss Colbourne, you currently lack a bonnet and we’ll not have time to acquire one before the wedding, so I shall give the funds to your Uncle and perhaps Lady de Clement can take you to a milliner in London.

“But I hate wearing bonnets.”  Mrs. Wheatley reached into the trunk and removed the trousers and pirate hat.  “Oh, alright.” Leo moaned.  “I shall wear the damn bonnet.”  

“Leonora Colbourne!  You may pretend to be a pirate, but that does not mean that you need to use the language of one.”  Charlotte stood in the doorway.  

“Mama!”  Leo ran and hugged her.  

“We were not expecting you today, Miss Heywood,”  Mrs. Wheatley said. 

“Everything is in order, it seems.  I was twiddling my thumbs and thought I would see how the packing was coming along.”

“It was fine until Leonora insisted upon taking her trousers!”  Augusta complained anew to a fresh audience.

“Why should she not take her trousers?”  Charlotte replied.  

“None of you understand!  None of you have lived in or even been to London!  It is not the same there!  People judge one another all the time.  I’ll not have my prospects ruined by a cousin in a pair of trousers!”  She slammed shut the lid of her trunk and stormed out of the room.

Charlotte and Mrs. Wheatley looked at one another.  “Has she been this way all morning?” Charlotte asked.  

“Yes.”  Mrs. Wheatley replied.  “Worried about returning to London, no doubt.” 

“Yes.”  Charlotte confirmed.  “Is it the first time she has been back?”  

“But why would Augusta be upset about London?  She has always spoken of it so fondly.”  Leonora inquired with genuine concern.  Charlotte sat on the bed and motioned for Leo to sit beside her.  

“Well, Leo, the last time Augusta was in London, her parents were alive.  Returning there makes her think of them and the life she lost there.  It can be difficult to feel that way, and sometimes, those feelings show themselves as anger.” 

“So she is not angry with me?” 

“I don’t believe so.  I believe she is just worried about how returning to London will make her feel and trying to keep control of her emotions is proving difficult.”  

“Should I go and hug her?” 

“That is very kind, Leo, but I think not yet.  Let’s give her some time by herself.  Now, do you want to take your soldiers with you?”  

“Yes.” 

“Why don’t you go to the school room and get one of the tins to put them in.”  The child ran out of the room to collect the precious items.  Charlotte turned to Mrs. Wheatley.  “Where is Alexander?” 

“He went on rounds this morning.  He should be back soon.”  Charlotte nodded and exited to find Augusta.  Mrs. Wheatley stopped her.  “Miss Heywood.”  Charlotte turned.  “You are an excellent mother and those girls have needed one for a long time.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Wheatley.”  

***

After taking an hour or so on the grounds to cool her temper, Augusta stepped into the drawing room.  Leo, Susan and Uncle Samuel were conspicuously absent.  “Where is everyone?” she asked Charlotte, who was seated at the spinet.  

“Your Uncle Samuel and Lady Susan have taken Leo to town for tea.  But that is all the better because Alexander and I have something we wish to discuss with you.” 

Augusta looked to her left to see her uncle sitting silently on the settee reading something with Farm in the title.  She took in the rather mundane domestic scene: the master of the house sitting in his parlour with a book and a cup of tea while the mistress of the house entertains him with her (rather lacking) piano skills.  It was as if they were married already.  She addressed Charlotte’s statement.  “Oh, what was that?”  Her uncle lowered his book. 

“Please, Augusta, sit.  Would you like some tea?”  

“Are you offering to pour it for me?  Now I know something odd is happening.  What is going on?”  

Alexander continued his task of pouring the tea and handing her the cup on a saucer.  “Augusta you have been through some very difficult things in the last few years.  More, really, than a young woman of your age should be forced to endure.”  Augusta swallowed and sat a bit straighter, never wanting to allow emotions to show too much.  “And I fear that I have not been the guardian that you needed me to be.  But I, that is, we , wanted to be sure that you feel prepared to return to London, since you have not returned since your parents’ deaths.” 

Augusta was silent, certain it was Charlotte who had prompted this conversation.  She was not sure what to say to him in return.  

“You don’t need to say anything now, if you do not wish to,” Charlotte said.  “But we both want you to know that we are here if you need anything.  And your Uncle Samuel and Lady Susan will, of course, be with you when you are there.  You needn’t be afraid of appearing delicate or childlike.  No one is judging you.”  

“That’s just it.  Everyone in London judges you.”  

“I know.” 

“How could you know?” 

“I have been to London Augusta.  Last summer, I attended Mrs. Maudsley’s Masque.  It was where I met Susan, actually.” 

“ You went to Mrs. Maudsley’s Masque?  That is one of the most difficult invitations in town!  How on earth did you manage that?” 

“Lord Babington procured an invitation for the brothers Parker in order that Tom might promote the Sanditon Regatta.”  

Augusta took a breath and looked at Charlotte, only briefly wondering why it was easier to look at her than it was Uncle Alex.  “My mother always wanted to attend that ball, but she never did.  I have been thinking of them more often lately, with your wedding approaching and everything that happened with…” She still could not bring herself to say Edward Denham’s name.  “I have been thinking that if my parents had not died, I would not have come here. And if I had not come here, I would not have felt the need to escape. And had I not felt the need to escape, perhaps I would not have been so naive of the scheming that appeared to me as love.”  

Charlotte squeezed her hand and urged Alexander with her eyes to remain quiet. 

Augusta continued.  “But then I think that if I had not come here, I would not know Leo.  I never knew what it was like to have a sibling.  I will admit it is not always a joy, but I have come to appreciate it.”  She finally turned to Alexander, “And I have come to appreciate you, Uncle Alex, despite whatever troubles we’ve had.  I did mean what I said, the night that I left.  I know you are only doing what you think is best and I really do want to put it all behind me and look to the future.”  

“It is a very bright future indeed,” Alexander replied.  He asked reticently, “Do you still feel as though you would like to leave?”  

“No,” she replied quietly.  Alexander smiled.  Augusta sighed.  “Enough of this.  There is a wedding in two days and we should be ebullient, not so serious!”  

“I am going to walk to the church to check on the flowers before dinner.  Would you like to accompany me?” Charlotte asked.   

“Yes.  I will get my coat and my bonnet.”  

“Excellent.”  

Alexander smiled as his ladies exited the room with smiles and laughter.  “Two days,” he whispered to himself.  “Two days.”   

***

Charlotte and Augusta arrived at church to find Mis Hankins, Mary, Georgiana, Arthur and staff from both Sanditon and Trafalgar Houses working busily to tie ribbons on pews and place flowers throughout the church.  Lady Denham was not actually working.  She was walking about from here to there, barking orders at the others.  

“No, no, no!  Don’t put that one there for pity’s sake!  There is already too much pink in that one.  They are imbalanced!  It needs more white!”  

“Charlotte!” Mary greeted her.  

“Well, it seems everything is in order here?”

Georgiana joined them.  “Yes, though I fear we shall all have bloody fingers for the ceremony tomorrow as Lady Denham keeps insisting upon flowers with thorns.”  She sucked on a bleeding finger.  

“Well don’t just stand around!  There’s work to be done!”  All but Charlotte were soon busy once again.  

Charlotte wandered to the quieter side of the church where the candles flickered on a rack.  She knelt quietly and folded her hands.  “I am getting married on Thursday,” she said quietly.  “But a tiny part of my heart will always be yours.  I hope that you are happy, wherever you are.”  She bowed her head.  

“He would want you to be happy, too.”  She looked up to find Arthur kneeling beside her.  She reached up and wiped the tear threatening to fall.

“I am, Arthur.  I am so incredibly happy.  But every once in a while, being so happy feels a bit like a betrayal, since he did not get to be so.”  She leaned into Arthur’s side and he offered her an enveloping squeeze.  

“He made his own choices, Charlotte, and would not begrudge you for making yours.”  

“Georgiana says that you are good at hugs, Arthur.  She is right.”  

“You and Georgiana are honorary Parkers.  We will all be so proud to see you become one of the great ladies of Sanditon on Thursday.  Sidney would be pleased as well.” 

“Yes.”  She nodded.  “Shall we?” she asked as she picked up a match and they lit a candle together.  

***

Charlotte rode in the green carriage toward town, worried about the time.  She had promised Georgiana that she would be no later than 6:30 for the “dinner party in honour of the bride.”  But after returning from the church, Leonora had been peppering her with questions all afternoon about London, and travelling, and the merits of dresses, and the wedding.  Charlotte was going to have to learn to say no to that child now that she would be her mother.  Leonora needed parameters and Charlotte would be unable to simply say that it was time for her to depart.  

“Baby steps,” she whispered to herself as she exited the carriage in front of the Mansfield Villas and thanked the Heyrick coachmen.  Coalescing as a family would take time.  For now, she had dinner with her friends. 

“There she is!”  Georgiana immediately took her hands as she walked in.

“I am so sorry to be late.  I fear Leonora was pestering me with questions.”  She let out an audible breath and plopped onto the settee.  “It’s been quite an afternoon.”  

“You are their mother already,” Mary said.  

“Indeed.”  Susan seconded as she handed Charlotte a glass of champagne.    

“Well tonight,” Georgiana interjected, “you are no one’s mother.  Tonight you are a bride and we are here to celebrate and help you prepare.”  

“Prepare?  What on earth is there to prepare for?  My dress is ready.  The church is ready.  I am ready.  Alexander is ready.  The girls are packed.”  Georgiana, Mary, and Susan smiled at one another knowingly.  “Oh,” Charlotte said when she realised they were speaking about what was to happen after the ceremony and breakfast.   

Sensing her discomfort, Susan offered a change of subject.  “My dear friend, the cut of that dress is most flattering on you.” 

“Yes, thank you, Susan, and you also, Mary.  The dresses are lovely.  Alexander told me that you were responsible for them.” 

“Oh, we cannot take credit!” Mary said.  “He practically ordered us to pick the fabrics.  The rest was entirely Mrs. Griffin’s sewing talents and, of course, your fiancé’s pocketbook.”

“Yes,” Charlotte allowed her annoyance to show through in her voice.  “I fear he has been opening it to me a bit too much lately.  I shall become insufferably spoiled quite soon!”  Susan smiled, well aware that Charlotte had not yet received the largest of the gifts.  “And which of you chose this fabric,” Charlotte continued as she ran her fingers over the green cotton with tiny yellow flowers.  

“I did,” Mary replied.  “It reminded me of the buttercups that bloom along the cliff walk in spring.”  

“That is a lovely thought, Mary.  I shall treasure it always.  Thank you.”  

“Speaking of things to wear,” Georgiana brought a box wrapped with a white silken ribbon and handed it to Charlotte.  “Susan and I bought this for you in London.”  

“That was very kind.  My goodness, I have never had so many gifts in my life.” 

“Charlotte, you are getting married.  It is a joyous time, and a time for gifts!” Mary said.  “Open it.  I am excited to see what it is!”  Charlotte pulled on the edge of the ribbon to remove it.  She rolled it.  The ribbon would be beautiful as the waistband of a dress.  She lifted the lid and found a beautiful chemise inside.  She carefully unfolded it.  It was not cotton or linen.  The fabric was a delicate ivory crepe silk.  The sleeves were puffed slightly at the shoulders with lace of the same colour.  The neckline had thin, blue silk ribbon woven through eyelet lace for cinching, as did the cuffs of the sleeves.  The hemline featured the same decoration, though affixed rather than being designed to pull and tie.  Charlotte stood to hold it up.  It was not as long as most chemises she had worn.  Indeed, it seemed only to come to her thighs rather than her knees.  She placed her hand under a single layer of what was certainly the softest fabric she had ever owned.  It was too delicate and beautiful to be an undergarment and yet, it most certainly was not designed to cover anything .  

She must have had a confused look on her face because Susan spoke up.  

“It is a night-rail.”

“I…thank you…I think.  I have never had separate clothing for sleeping.”  She donned a look of consternation.  “I am not sure it will be very warm.”

Mary answered. “You will not need a night rail to keep you warm, my dear.  You will have Alexander.”  

Charlotte smiled and reddened.  “What exactly am I supposed to do with it, then?”  

“Wear it, of course.”  

“Over a chemise?”  

“No, silly!”  Georgiana giggled.  “You wear it over nothing at all!” 

“Well then what is the point?  If Alexander can see right through it, then why not simply be naked?”  

“You will be.”  Georgiana smiled broadly and added without embarrassment,  “But he will enjoy taking it off.”

“Georgiana!”  Charlotte said quietly as if there was some secret that needed to be kept from the other women in the room.    

“It is the art of seduction, my dear.  Enticement.”  

“I’m not sure, I mean we…” she looked down. “I’m not sure enticement is necessary.  We have been fighting ourselves at every turn not to give in.”

“If you really want to have fun, wear only your stays and your silk stockings with it.”  Susan suggested.  Charlotte looked at Mary and saw that her friend appeared as red as she herself felt.  She gathered her courage.  She was with her friends.  They were trying to educate her.  She should not be embarrassed.  

“So it is entirely for his enjoyment.”  

“Yes,” Georgiana added.  

“No,” Susan and Mary said simultaneously.  

“Which is it?”  Charlotte asked.  

Georgiana explained herself.  “I got one too, when we went shopping, and Otis adores it.” 

Susan said.  “But as the years go by, you may find that wearing it adds a bit of… spice. ”  Mary nodded in confirmation.    

“So when we get home from the wedding breakfast I am to change into this?”  Her friends smiled and nodded.  “I fear my mother did not tell me about this.” Charlotte demurred.  

“Do not fear, my dear,” Mary offered comfort.  “Just remember that only the two of you will ever know what happens.”  

“And you are marrying a wonderful man,” Susan added.  “So you have nothing to fear.”  

“He is wonderful ,” Charlotte echoed.  “I know it has only been three weeks, but sometimes I have difficulty remembering what life was like before Heyrick Park.  Before Alexander.  I…I am so in love with him that I sometimes don’t know quite what to do with it.”  She was smiling broadly and could not have contained the corners of her mouth no matter how hard she tried.  She looked around her.  “Indeed, I believe we are all lucky, aren’t we ladies?  To have men who love us in such ways?”  

Georgiana raised her glass of champagne.  “To the men who love us,” she said.  Everyone echoed her sentiment.  

“And the men who respect us,” Charlotte added. 

“And the men who value our ideas,” Mary offered.  

 “And the men who put us first.”  Susan smiled. 

“And to Charlotte,” Georgiana added as she raised her glass again.  “May your wedding day be all that you wish it to be – filled with love, laughter, friends–”

Enough of this serious talk , Susan thought.  It was a party.  She interrupted, “And conversation !  Lots and lots of…conversation.”    

After a moment of silence to get past the shock of Susan’s inference, they all laughed heartily as they shouted “conversation” and chinked their glasses.  

***

Alexander sat in his desk chair.  Samuel stood beside him, pointing at a clause in the new copy of Xander’s Last Will and Testament.  

Samuel slid his pointer finger down the page.  “This clause makes provision for the construction of a dower house and a living for Charlotte and your daughters should you pass and have a son who is married and wishes to live in this house.  If you choose to build a dower house ahead of time, this clause can then be adapted to designate the house as such.”

“The question is where to build it.” 

“You should ask Charlotte, no?”  

“Yes, of course, but I’m sure she will ask me for suggestions.  What about up on the bluff above the cliff?  It is close to town.  I always wondered why our grandfather didn’t choose that spot.”  

Samuel’s heart sank a bit.  “It is rather fortuitous that you should mention that spot, brother.  I just walked there with Susan yesterday.  I actually mentioned the possibility of our building a house there.”  

“You wish to build a house on the property?  You hate it here.”  

“Well, I didn’t always.  And I do not hate it here.  Sanditon is changed for the better, as has Heyrick Park, brother, which is much to your credit.  But, as you suggest, my practice in London is shrinking as a result of His Majesty’s rather infantile behaviour.  I have been corresponding with Nathan Gildenwalter and he is aiming to retire.  I thought to split my practice between London and Sanditon.”    

Alexander was silent.  Samuel tried to read him but all he could see was the top of his head.  Still, the tension in his body was not favourable.  

“So, what?” Xander began.  “You waltz in here after ten years, after I worked like a trojan to put everything back in order, and expect me to simply give you a valuable parcel of frontage you haven’t earned?”

“Geez, Xander.  I haven’t asked you for anything.”    

“You were about to.”  

“Might I remind you that I left you an estate of a thousand acres – the dream of second sons everywhere!”  

“One thousand derelict, unproductive acres that took seven years to turn a profit!  Not to mention the toll it took on Lucy and Leo!”  

“You would still be sitting around miserable and forlorn were it not for Susan and myself, and Charlotte would be in Ireland thinking you had married another!”

“Out.” 

“Are you asking me to leave?”  

“I believe that is what ‘out’ means.” 

“The room or the property.” 

“I don’t care.  Just…out!”  

***

The entire Colbourne family, motley crew that they were, sat around the dinner table. Alexander absorbed the sight as he wiped his napkin on his mouth, fighting his disbelief.  Charlotte could see the look of contemplation in his eyes. 

“What is it, My Love?” she asked so that only he could hear.  

“In all my life, I have never seen this table so full as I have these past weeks.”  

Charlotte smiled at him.  “And I hope that henceforth, it shall often be so.”

He grinned but seemed forlorn.   

“There is something else.  What are you not telling me?”  

“I will tell you later.  Not here, please.”  

She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  Meanwhile, Susan took her knife and pointed it between the two brothers.  “What is going on between the two of you?  Whatever it is, I hope you can resolve it before tomorrow.”

“There is nothing going on.”  The Colbournes answered simultaneously.    

“You are both terrible liars.”  

“We just had a small disagreement about an estate matter.  That is all.”  Alexander said.  

“About what?” Charlotte enquired.   

“Something about the bluff and a house…a doer house,” Leonora said.  

“Leonora Colbourne, what have I told you about listening at doors?”  Charlotte replied, with only a hint of anger but more than Leo was used to.  

“I didn't do it on purpose, Mama!  I was only looking for Uncle Samuel to play swords with me.”  

“Nonetheless, you should make your presence known, not stand outside and listen.”  

“I’m sorry.”  

“Take your dinner to your room, please.”  Leo stood and left.  She did not take her dinner.  Augusta thought about going after her, but her desire to see what was about to happen trumped any desire to look after Leo. 

“Now,” Charlotte began in a cooler voice, “what’s this about the bluff and a house?”  

Both brothers remained silent.

“Neither of you has anything to say?”  Charlotte said tersely.  “Alexander?”  She cut her meat with bold stabbing strokes.  “I’ll not have this family falling apart the night before our wedding!  Susan?”  

“Samuel and I would like to build a house in Sanditon.  Samuel is thinking to take over Mr. Gildenwalter’s practice when he retires.  I believe he may have requested the bluff as a building location.”  

Charlotte smiled.  What a blessing it would be to have them so close.  “That is a marvellous idea.  Why would that cause such strife?”  The brothers continued to remain silent.  Finally, Alexander stood and walked out of the dining room and through the front door.  Charlotte ate another bite.  “He is only going to the stables.  I will give him a few moments to collect himself, then I will go.  In the meantime, Samuel Colbourne, would you care to enlighten me?”  

“We were looking at the new clauses that we added to the will when he was in London - the ones that make provision for you, the girls, and any future children.  He set aside funds for a dower house on the estate.  We both had the same location in mind.”  

“That’s ridiculous.  I do not need a dower house.” 

“I’m not sure that is negotiable.  Xander won’t have it any other way.”  

“So he doesn’t want you to build your house on the bluff because he wants to build me a house on the bluff?”  

“That’s about the sum of it, I think.”  

“Well this is absurd.  I am going to go and get him.  Please, do not leave the table.  I want us to be able to finish our dinner as a family.”  She stood and exited to the stables.  

Charlotte passed the stable hands, leaving for the evening as a group on her way in.  

“Mistress,” they each said in turn, giving a slight nod as they left. 

“Have a good night, gentlemen,” she replied.  She found Alexander sitting on a stool next to Hannibal’s stall with his saddle on the rack and glass bottle of leather conditioner in his hand.  He poured some on his rag and wiped in small terse circles as he’d clearly done thousands of times.  Rather than approach him directly, Charlotte removed her own saddle from the wall and pulled a second rack and stool up beside him.  She found a rag in the crate and sat, silently placing her hand out for him to pass her the bottle.  Knowing exactly what she was up to, he did so begrudgingly.  

“I don’t want to talk about it, Charlotte.” 

“That is fine.  We shall just sit here and polish saddles, then.  But, the longer we do that, the colder our food will be.”  They continued in the same manner, each polishing in small circles, the bottle sitting between their stools on the ground.  At one point, neither really looking, they reached for the bottle at the same time.  Alexander wondered, given the behaviour they’d already engaged in, how a single finger touch could send such electricity through his body.  Charlotte could feel his mood softening at the touch.  She worked quickly, trying to catch up with him and distract him with a race to see who could complete the polishing first.  She watched carefully to see when he was going to reach for the bottle and would quickly pick it up to dampen her own rag.  Finally, he wisened to her shenanigans and swiped more quickly for the bottle, nabbing it before she could react.  He raised his eyebrows at her.  Now, they were truly in a race.   

“Are there rules in this race?”  He asked, trying hard not to give in to the fun. 

“No rules.”  

“No rules?”  

“No rules.”  

After using the bottle, Alexander set it down on the opposite side of his stool, placing himself between Charlotte and the bottle.  He returned to his work on the saddle, whistling while he worked.  Charlotte was not going to walk around to get it, knowing that he would simply reach down for it and move it before she got there.  Instead, she leaned directly across his front, making sure that her decolletage was plainly visible and blocking his arms from grabbing the bottle.  She heard him quietly groan as he closed his eyes. 

Bottle in hand, she dumped a stream of oil on the crest of the saddle so that she would have enough to finish the job without needing the bottle again.  She nonchalantly placed it on the far side of herself and joined in the whistling and wiping.  Alexander took his rag and wiped the oil she had just dumped from her saddle to continue his work.  She slapped his hand away with her rag.  They each rubbed in circles, faster and faster and faster.  Neck and neck they raced until Alexander stood, threw down his rag, lifted her to standing, put one hand on each side of her waist and thrust her backward into the stable wall with a thunk, claiming her lips. 

“You will be the death of me,” he whispered breathlessly, continuing to claim every ounce of skin available to him, pinning her harder against the wall with his own body.  He slid his knee between her thighs and she felt her toes rise from the ground as the fabric of her dress gripped the rough stone wall.  “Your wedding dress,” he asked, still breathless, “how much does it cover?”  It seemed an odd question. 

“It is nearly the same as the one I am wearing, minus the fichu,” she answered, still curious.  Alexander pulled the fichu, sliding it around her neck and pinning it between them as he continued to claim her.  He slid his hands around her back and unclasped a single hook so that he might slide the sleeve from her shoulder.  

“So if I mark you here,” he pointed to the tip of her shoulder, the pressure of his finger alone sure to leave a mark, “it will not show?”  His voice was low and full of gravel.  Charlotte closed her eyes and melted into his hands.

“No,” she replied, her breath hot in his hair.  He trailed his lips along her collarbone to the spot he had asked permission to make his own.  She felt his teeth brush her skin before he sucked it into his mouth with a hard smack, indelicate, unyielding, unapologetic.  He rested his forehead against her shoulder.  

“If this were twenty-four hours from now…”  He did not complete the sentence, fearful that he may be unable to stop himself from doing whatever words his mind conjured.  Charlotte lifted his head by the hair and pressed their foreheads together. 

“I sincerely hope that twenty-four hours from now we will not be in the stables.”  

“Where will we be?”  

“In bed, I hope.”  

“I guarantee it.”  He dropped his knee and she felt her feet touch the ground.    

Charlotte took a deep breath.  “I asked everyone to wait for us.  I’m sure they are restless, if they have even done so.  And I must go and speak with Leo.  Please tell me why you are angry with your brother.”  They began cleaning together.  

“Because he is so aloof, waltzing through life, shedding any responsibility for anything, and then thinking that he can slide his way back into my good graces with a single act of genuine accountability.”  

“In his defence, saving Georgiana’s fortune was a rather large act.”  

“I know.”  

“I thought you said you liked having a brother again.”  

“I do, but that doesn’t mean that I want to give him the most picturesque piece of land on the property!”  He heaved both saddles back into their places.  Charlotte tossed the rags back into the bin, set the bottle on the shelf, and then wrapped her arms around his waist.   

“I do not need a dower house, Alexander.”  

“When I was in Willingden, I promised your father that you would want for nothing and that I would provide for your future.  I intend to keep my word.” 

“I am certain that you will, and I cannot begin at this moment to express my gratitude, but there are many ways to provide for me that do not involve being angry with your brother.”  She straightened his hair.  “Samuel is imperfect.  We all are.  That doesn’t mean you should not keep him around.  He is good for you.  He balances you, and you him.”

Alexander sighed and hugged her, tucking her head under his chin.  “I love that bluff.  I like visiting it and riding along it.  I do not want to put a house there and block the view, unless it is yours, of course.”  

“Xander, that is very sweet.  Selfish, but very sweet.”

“How so?”

“You don’t want anything to disrupt the peace of the place, unless you are giving that peace of place to me.”  Alexander kissed her forehead. 

“Yes.”  

“Did you ever think that perhaps your brother is doing the same?  He loves her, Xander.  As much as you love me.” 

“Not possible.” 

She smiled.  “He has so little to give her, Xander, relative to what she is used to.  And while it is true that she made the choice, I’m sure that he wants to do everything in his power to ensure that she does not regret it.”  He nodded.  “Let him build on the land, Alexander.”  She smiled broadly and said in a teasing voice.  “And when you Colbourne brothers are long gone, we old ladies can live there together.” 

Charlotte took his hand and they walked back to the house.  She kissed his cheek before they walked through the door.  “I’m going to go and get Leo.”  

Alexander stood in the doorway of the dining room.  “Sam, may I speak with you?”  

“Here we go.”  Samuel wiped his mouth and stood, hoping that Charlotte had managed her usual miracle touch with his brother.  He followed Alexander into the study.  

“ We will build a house.”  Alexander said, “and, taking into account the value of the land, split the cost exactly in half.  You and Susan will use that house as it will hopefully not be needed as a dower house for a very long time.  You will place in your will that the property passes back to me upon your death, with the stipulation that Susan may continue to live there as long as she wishes, and should I pass and Charlotte still be living, she says that she and Susan shall be old ladies there together.” 

“Have the words ‘why didn’t we think of that’ crossed your mind yet?”

“They have.”  

“We cannot continue to dwell in the past, Xander.  Not when our bright future is sitting across the hall.”  

“I know.  It is…difficult.  I have done it for so long.”  

“Whereas I have entirely avoided it.”  Samuel offered his hand, which Alexander took.  “So, I shall face the past, you shall move on and we shall meet in the middle, yes?”  

“We shall try.  For their sake, if not for ours.”  He released the shake.  “So, write up the paperwork while you are in London.  I’ll have a look when the honeymoon is over and we will have Mr. Gildenwalter sign off on the final paperwork.  And perhaps, you might consider finding us an architect?”  

Samuel nodded.  “I believe we are needed at dinner.”          

***

Charlotte knocked on Leo’s door.  “Leo?  May I come in.”  There was no answer and so Charlotte pushed the door to peek in her head.  Leo was on the bed, curled in a ball.  Charlotte sat beside her.  “Leo.  Look at me, please.”  The young child rolled over, her face red and swollen.  “We are all at the table and we wish that you would join us again.” 

“Why did you yell at me?  You’ve never yelled at me before.”

“I did not yell, Leo.  I was simply firm.  You must understand that it is not polite to listen to other people’s conversations.  And if you do, it is important to declare yourself immediately.”  

“But…I’m a spy .”  

“You are old enough now to begin learning when spying is acceptable and when it is impolite.  Listening to your father and your uncle during an important discussion is not acceptable.  You will owe them an apology.”  

“Yes, mama.”  Leo leaned into Charlotte for a hug.  “Mama, will you be mad at me forever?”  

“What?  No, Leo.  I am not mad at you at all.  It’s just that as your mother, it is my job to help you learn appropriate behaviour.  Being a mom doesn’t always mean giving you what you want.  Sometimes it means giving you what you need.”  

“And I need to stop listening at doors.” 

“Yes, Leo. You need to stop listening at doors.”  

“Alright, Mama.”

Charlotte hugged her daughter.  “I love you, sweet girl.”  

“I love you, too, Mama.  May I come back to dinner now?  I am hungry.”  Charlotte stood and offered a hand.    

“Yes.  Everyone is waiting for us.”

To Charlotte’s surprise, when she and Leo entered the room, Alexander reached for his glass of water and stood.  Everyone quieted without request.   

“I have never in my life stood to offer a toast for any reason, so I know that all of you will excuse my discomfort, but I am getting married tomorrow and so I suppose this is as good a time as any to try something new.  When Sam and I were growing up, this was a house of men.  Yet now, as I look around, I delight in the idea that it has become a house of women.  And chief among those ladies of Heyrick is Charlotte.”  He looked directly at her in sheer happiness.  “You bring light to everything and everyone you touch, My Love.  As of tomorrow I shall be infinitely proud to call myself your husband.  May your light always continue to shine as brightly as it will tomorrow.  To Charlotte.”

“Charlotte!”  The voices echoed around the table and Leo, seeing her father toasting with water, did so as well.  Alexander leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before he sat down.

“Thank You,” she said quietly.  “That was lovely, Alexander.”    

“Words are not so difficult to come by when speaking the truth.”  Charlotte leaned out of her chair and claimed his lips gently and swiftly, heedless of propriety.  

***

After dinner, Alexander escorted Charlotte to the study.  He dropped her arm as they entered.  “Wait here,” he said as he closed the door and locked it behind them, then proceeded to walk across to the windows to pull the shutters.  He added two logs to the fire.  He removed the small table between the chairs in front of the fireplace and turned them to face one another.  He stood behind the second one and motioned for her to sit.  Charlotte was puzzled.  Why on earth was he being so particular about the arrangement of the room?

“Do you want anything to drink?”  

“No, thank you.  Alexander, what is this about?” 

He sat in front of her, knees intertwined with hers, and took her hands.  He took a deep breath and began to say what he had prepared.  “Our wedding is tomorrow.”  

She squeezed his hands.  “It is,” she replied, smiling.  Alexander was quiet.  It was disconcerting. “Somehow, I think that is not what you wanted to say.”  

He smiled at her knowledge of him.  “No.”  

“Alexander?  What is it?  You gave that beautiful toast, but now you are worrying me.”  

“I am sorry.  That is not my intention.  I just wanted…” 

“Go on.” 

He sighed gently.  “I want to be the best man you know.”  

“You are!  Without question.”  She tried to be reassuring though she found her voice tinged with suspicion as to exactly where the conversation was headed.  

“Please do not be frustrated or angry with me, especially given what was happening in the stables a little over an hour ago, but I am honour-bound to ask and so…” 

It dawned on her what he was doing and she put an immediate stop to it.  “Yes, Xander.  I still want to marry you tomorrow.  For goodness sake how could you possibly think otherwise?” 

Alexander offered a demure smile and shook his head at his own folly.  He relaxed a bit and a better sentence finally came to him.  “I didn’t.  But I do want you to know that until the moment the reverend asks you to take the vow, you are free to make your own choice and if that choice is to remain independent, I will not fault you.”   

“Are you not the one who wrote in your letter that love bears and endures all things?  I have never known love like this either, Alexander.”  She took his face in her hands.  “I love you with my whole heart and my entire soul.  There is nothing, including God himself forbidding it, that will keep me from marrying you tomorrow.”  

Alexander turned a bit flushed.  “Well, if God himself forbade it, then I suppose we would not be married.” 

Charlotte kissed him and spoke against his lips.  “Then, I would live in sin with you for the rest of my life.”  

Fire erupted from deep within him and he claimed her lips with such ferocity that she leaned back in her chair.  It was as if their kisses in the stables had not ended in either of their minds, simmering under the surface during dinner, waiting for the opportune moment to erupt once again into flame.  Soon, he was kneeling, pulling her tightly against him and lowering them gently onto the floor.  Hands in hair, legs intertwined, they could not get close enough.  

“Speaking of sins.”  He was breathless.  “I fear my temptation to commit one right now is growing rather strong.”  He put his flat palm on her back and ran it powerfully over her buttocks to pull her as tightly as possible into his very ready body.

“Please do.  The doors are locked.  The windows are shut.” 

“Charlotte…” His voice was laced with warning and desire simultaneously.  “It is less than a day. We can wait.”  The continued ferocity of their kisses did not match his words.  “One more day…and then you may enter this room whenever you choose, and demand of me whatever you wish…and I shall obey your command.”

“ Any command?” 

“Any command.” 

“At any time of day?” 

“At any time of day.”  

They finally pulled back, giving pecks instead of kisses, but neither felt their desire diminish.  

“So I can walk into this room in the middle of the afternoon and demand you give yourself to me by the fire and…” 

He brushed his lips on her neck but was careful not to bite as he wrapped his leg up over her hip to pull her even closer.  “And I shall.”  

She rolled away from him and stood, returning to the chair. “Or perhaps when you are reading the latest farming news I shall sit opposite you and distract you.”  She sat bawdily with legs apart and skirts at her knees.

Alexander rose onto his elbows and crossed his ankles, staring at her as if she were some temptress from the depths of the sea.  She was learning very quickly and the fire within her matched his own.  Good God, would he even survive the honeymoon?  He refused to move any closer.  He replied, “Then I shall be quite happy to have the news wait until later.”  

She stood and sauntered toward the desk, walking around it as he often did, brushing her fingers along the edge.  “And in the morning, when you are writing your correspondence?”  

His legs stood before his mind caught up.  He approached the desk from the opposite direction to stop her and lifted her gracefully to sit on the blotter, sliding her dress up her thighs, pressing himself against her.  “Then I fear, my dear, that you shall have ink stains on your dress.”  He resisted kissing her, instead wrapping his arms behind her.  He reached up with one hand to wipe the hair from her face.  “Charlotte.”  Time for item number two on his list of reasons why he brought her to the study.  “I know that you grew up on a farm, and,” he smirked, “you have not been shy in letting me know of your desires.  We have not exactly been keeping to the normal rules of conduct.  And I know that you have Mrs. Parker, and Mrs. Molyneaux, and Susan for guidance.  Nonetheless, I wanted to ask if you have any questions…for tomorrow?”  

“Questions about our marital relations?”  

He leaned in and kissed her gently.  “Yes.”  The single word was all he could manage.  Just the thought of marital relations with her made him painfully hard.    

She fiddled with the lapels of his yellow waistcoat, feeling suddenly shy even though she had been sauntering around the room moments ago.  “I must admit that as much as I have longed to be with you, and as much as I enjoy the feeling of your lips and your hands, the act itself does make me a bit nervous.  My mother and Mary and Susan all inform me that it is painful the first time.”  

Alexander brought his second hand up to her face and kissed her forehead.  “I wish I could promise that it will not be.  I can only promise to do my best to prevent it from being so.”  He sat back in his desk chair and pulled her into his lap.  “It is normal to be afraid, I think.”  He did not have the courage to admit that he was afraid, too.  

She brushed his face.  “I am nervous.  But, I am not afraid.  Not with you.  I love you, Xander, and I am very excited to be your wife.”  She leaned in to kiss him and ran her hand along the waistband of his trousers.  “In every way.”  He caught her hand and tucked it between their chests, pressing his forehead to hers.  

“Charlotte, promise me that if I do anything that you do not like – that hurts you or displeases you – that you will say something.  I…I do not want our marital relations to be something that you feel you must simply endure.  I…”  Silence befell him.  

Charlotte was nearly in tears.  She felt as though they were back again in the drawing room after the ball.  She was watching self-recrimination take hold of his warm countenance that had been so gallantly on display in the past weeks.  She would not have him experiencing even an inkling of self-doubt.  Not today and definitely not tomorrow.  

“Xander.  I will make a vow tomorrow, to love and to honour you and to keep only unto you.  And I will mean it.  I will never stray from your side, or those of our children, for as long as I live.  Do you doubt me?”  

“No.”

“Then do not doubt yourself.  Because I do not.”  They sat in silence for a good long while, her head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her, contemplating all that had been said.  Then, Alexander’s hand touched just the right spot on her shoulder and hers just the right spot on his neck and they stared at one another’s lips and they both knew they needed to separate before the fire overtook them once more.  Alexander broke the spell. 

“There is one more thing.  Before you go.” 

“What is that?” She asked.  He nodded with his eyes to a low wooden box on his desk, wrapped with a royal blue velvet ribbon.  Charlotte’s eyes grew large.  “Alexander!  What have you done?”  He leaned forward and retrieved the box, holding her firmly on his lap with his opposite hand.  He handed it to her.  “I thought you were going to the jewellers to choose my wedding ring!  Not…whatever is large enough to fit in this box!”  

He smiled.  “I already have the ring.  The ring was my mother’s.  I went to find a parure to go with it.”  

“Xander!  I told you not to be extravagant on my behalf!” 

“It is not extravagant.  It was not nearly the most expensive one they had in the shop.  Not by half.  Open it.”  

She started and then stopped.  “I…I cannot…Alexander.  First the dresses and now this.  It is too much.”  

“I endured the mail coach from London for that!”  He pointed.  “And I have been waiting all week to give it to you.  You would not deny me that happiness, would you?”  She tilted her head at him.  He bounced her gently.  “Open it.”  

Charlotte finished untying the ribbon and set it on the desk.  It would be perfect in her hair at a ball.  “Getting new ribbons was a luxury in Willingden.  Now I have two.”  

“Two?” 

“Georgiana and Susan also gave me a gift at dinner last evening.”  She smiled and turned to sit squarely on his lap facing the desk and set the box down so that she could carefully open the delicate clasp without dropping it.  Alexander could not see that the sight of the necklace and earrings immediately brought tears to her eyes.  

“Charlotte?”  She was so rarely silent.

She cautiously touched the jewels to ensure their reality.  

Alexander leaned forward and spoke over her shoulder.  “Susan and Sam and I all agree that this set has an understated elegance that befits you, as the Mistress of Heyrick Park.”  

Understated!   The stone was huge!  But he was right.  It was not gaudy.  It was elegant.  

“Here.”  He removed it from the box and unfixed the clasp.  “Lift your hair.”  He affixed the clasp at her spine and planted a kiss on the bones that protruded there.  “Come,” he said, lifting a candle and going to the window seat.  He opened the shutters and held up the candle to show their reflection in the window so that she could examine herself.   “My beautiful bride.”  

She reached back to cradle the side of his head over her shoulder as they examined their reflection.  “My handsome groom.”  She smiled.  “Did you really used to watch me come and go each day, like you said in your letter?” 

“Yes.  And I felt incomplete all evening and night, until I saw you again.”  

“I will still come and go many days, to school.  Will you still watch me go?”

“Yes, if I am not walking with you in the morning.  And at night …” He stretched the word seductively.   

She turned in his arms to find his lips, then smiled against them.  “We always seem to end up here, don’t we?” 

“Yes.”  

“Tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow,” he said in a low, lustful voice.  He retrieved the box from the desk and took her hand.  “Come, Miss Heywood.  Your carriage awaits.” 

She laughed as she followed.  “Why am I Miss Heywood again?”  

“These will be the last five minutes of our lives that I am able to call you that, Miss Heywood.  And I aim to do so at every opportunity.”    

Charlotte and Susan gathered their small collection of bonnets and gloves and were escorted by the Colbourne brothers to the carriage.  Samuel handed Susan in first, with a kiss to the hand.  Alternately, Alexander pulled his bride tightly in for a slightly-less-than-chaste and slightly-longer-than-it-should-be kiss on the lips.  It was enough to make Samuel clear his throat and Susan smile.  

“I wouldn’t want you to feel the need to stop the coach again, Miss Heywood.”  Alexander smirked.  He handed her in to sit next to her friend.  “Until tomorrow then, Miss Heywood.”  

“Until tomorrow.”  

“Is everything alright, brother?” Samuel asked as the carriage pulled away.  “You were in your study for quite a while.  I thought perhaps you had started the wedding night a day early.”  

Alexander tried to look annoyed.  “All is well.  We were just talking.  Preparing for tomorrow.”  

“And what did you determine during your… conversation ?”  

Alexander sighed.  “That I am the luckiest man alive.”  He watched until the carriage disappeared in the darkness.  

Chapter Text

15

“Do I pass muster?” 

“It is a very fine suit, Xander.”  Mrs. Wheatley brushed the pant legs to smooth them.  “Although, the silk does become wrinkled rather quickly.”   

Alexander looked at himself in the mirror.  “It is certainly the finest suit I have ever owned.  Fitting for the day, certainly.”  

“It will be a fine day indeed, and in only two hours, you shall be married.”  She straightened his tie.  “I was not sure Heyrick Park would ever see this day.” 

“Nor was I.”  

“And yet, here you are.  And a fine choice you have made.”

“I did not make the choice, Eleanor.  My heart did not give me one.”  

“But you chose to listen to it, and it was not that long ago that you chose not to.” 

“Don’t remind me.  When I think of the joy this house has known in these last weeks...to think I nearly let it slip from my grasp.  Our grasp.”    

“Do not admonish yourself.  You have known great tragedy in your life, Xander.  It is not a wonder that you exercised caution and were unsure of how to grasp happiness when it appeared.” She held out his jacket sleeves for him.  

“When did you know that I was in love with Charlotte?”  

Mrs. Wheatley smiled.  “I knew you were taken with her when she stormed out of here with her portfolio under her arm and you chased after her on your horse.  I knew you could see how good she was for this house when you asked her to stay, despite losing a shilling to me.”  She brushed his shoulders.  “And I knew that you loved her when I watched you dress for the ball in a suit finer than I’d seen you wear in a decade–an attempt to rectify whatever mess you made at that garden party.”  She smiled her all-knowing smile. “When did you know?”  

“When the thought of losing her eclipsed my hatred of the past, and I knew that I would tell her everything if it meant she would stay.  I know now that I was in love with her long before that, but that night is when I first admitted to myself that my heart had been claimed.” 

“And yet you sent her away.” 

“And yet I sent her away.  In hindsight, as trying as it was for both of us, it was for the best.  I was not prepared to be the man she deserved.” He buttoned his jacket.  “And now I am.”

Mrs. Wheatley stepped out from behind him as he gave himself a final examination in the mirror.  “Handsome.  Very handsome.  This will be a proud day for Heyrick Park, Sir.  And a proud day for me.”    

They shared a smile in the mirror.  Alexander felt possessed to do something he never had before.  He put his arm around her shoulder.  “Thank you, Eleanor, and not just for today.  I owe you an entire lifetime of thank yous.”  

Grateful but overcome, Eleanor Wheatley stepped away.  “Mr. Samuel already escorted the ladies to Trafalgar House this morning and is waiting with the carriage when you are ready.  The girls' trunks are packed and have also been taken to town.  I have made your favourite venison stew.  It is in the cast iron pot in the kitchen.  There is cheese, apples of course, peach and berry preserves, and bread on the kitchen table.  There are eggs if Mrs. Colbourne feels so inclined.  The house staff, as you ordered, will be on holiday until Sunday evening.  The stable staff will be present only minimally for the animals’ care.  

“Good.”  

“Xander!” Samuels voice rang from the foyer. 

“Off you go,” Eleanor Wheatley said.  Upon watching her boys disappear in the carriage she sighed and wondered what she was going to do with four days’ holiday, something she’d not ever had before.  She headed off to ready herself for the ceremony.    

***

“Do I get dressed now, Mama?”  Leo’s excitement shown in the pitch of her voice, which was even higher than when she had asked the same question fifteen minutes prior.  

“Not yet, Leo.  If you dress now, you will not be able to run or play or eat until after the ceremony, so it is better to wait just a bit longer.  I know it is early, but you should eat a little something or you may be quite hungry at the ceremony.  We most likely will not eat until the breakfast at about eleven.  Go and spend time with Alicia and Henry and after you eat a small meal, you may get ready.”  Charlotte turned to look in the mirror.  Susan and Mary were standing behind her. 

“She is so excited, she just doesn’t know what to do with herself,” Mary said. 

“Yes.”  Charlotte smiled.

“How was your bath, my dear?”  

“The rosewater was lovely, Mary.  Thank you so much.”  Charlotte put her forearm to her nose.  “I can still smell it.”  

“That’s the idea,” Mary raised her eyebrows in the mirror.   

“Now, Charlotte, what do you want to do with your hair?”  Susan asked. 

“Down, I think.  I have always preferred it that way and I know that Alexander does as well.”  

Susan leaned next to her and patted her shoulder.  “And it will mean fewer pins to pull later,” she said discreetly.  “Trilly will stay here with you and Augusta.  I’ve told her to cater to your every need.  Mary and I will finish getting ready in the other room and we’ll see you in a bit.”  

“Thank you Susan.  For everything.”  

Augusta looked at Susan’s maid.  “Well, Trilly, let’s make a bride, shall we?”  

The early morning passed with all the ladies buzzing this way and that through Trafalgar House.  Not being in the wedding party, Georgiana had asked Charlotte how she could best be helpful. Mary had replied on Charlotte’s behalf, “Keep the men out of our way!”  They all had a good laugh, and Georgiana kindly offered her apartment for the men to gather after their relatively short period of preparation.

Finally, on a beautiful October Thursday, Charlotte, Leo and Augusta, Georgiana and Otis, Tom and Mary, Susan, Arthur, and the Parker children all met on the main street in Sanditon.  The shopkeepers, preparing to open for the day, paused to take in the sight of the party on the street: Sanditon’s most prominent citizens, dressed in their finest, with the stunning bride at their centre. 

“Charlotte!” Georgiana reached out her hands to her friend upon seeing her.  “I’ve never seen you looking so beautiful!”   

“I daresay Alexander may well fall over when he sees her,” Susan replied.  “What say you, Augusta?”  

“I would not put it outside the realm of possibility,” the young woman replied. Charlotte delighted in what seemed to be genuine joy on Augusta’s part.          

“Exquisite,” Arthur said with a jolly smile.      

“My dear, you are indeed a delight to the eye!” Tom smiled. “And as head of the Parker family, it is my proud duty to escort you to church.  Parkers! And honorary parkers, of course,” he added leaning down toward Charlotte, “Onward!”  Augusta, Leo, Charlotte, Tom and Mary entered the Parker carriage.  Tom and Mary sat on the reverse bench while Charlotte sat on the seat she had occupied on so many occasions, coming and going from Sanditon, sometimes heart full of excitement, sometimes heart broken and raw.  Flanked by Leo and Augusta, her heart had never been fuller than it was now.  She waved her hand in front of her face as if scooping the air into her nose.  

“Do you smell that, Tom?  Sea air!  Better than any medicine or tonic.  It makes the spirit soar!”  Augusta looked at her as if she had lost her mind.  “Why, I have been keen as mustard on it since first I arrived and now, I get to spend my lifetime enjoying its wonders.”

“Honestly, you and uncle have been acting quite strangely of late.  It is as if you have eaten love soup and it has addled your minds!”      

“Someday, Augusta.”  Charlotte took her hand.  “Someday, it shall be your turn.  Besides those are not my words.  They are Tom’s.”  

“Are they?” The man himself wondered. 

“Yes of course, Tom!” Mary replied.  “That was what you said to Charlotte when we first brought her along this cliff to Sanditon.”  

“Have I ever told you that story?” Charlotte asked the girls.  “Tom and Mary’s carriage lost a wheel along the road outside Willingden and they stayed with our family while it was repaired.  As a thank you, Tom and Mary brought me to Sanditon for a visit.  And the rest, as they say, is history.”  

“That’s right, that’s right.”  Tom confirmed, as if that was needed.  

Charlotte’s face was beginning to hurt from smiling. 

“My dear Charlotte,” Mary said, “I believe you are positively giddy.”  

“You know, Mary, I believe I am.”  

Samuel and Miss Hankins were standing outside the church, waiting.  Tom stepped out of the carriage and offered a hand to Mary.  Samuel stepped up for the girls and then offered a hand to Charlotte.  

“Dear God,” he said with jaw open.     

“Samuel!  We are at church!”  Charlotte admonished him.   

“I am merely praising the Lord for sending to earth such a vision!”  He kissed both her hands.  Miss Hankins hid that she was chuckling.        

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”  Leo whined.  

“Because your mama is a beautiful woman.” Samuel squatted in front of her and popped her nose with his knuckle.  “Especially today.”  He rose to speak to Charlotte.  “I’ll take Susan inside, but give me a moment to stand beside Xander before you enter.”  He winked.  “Just in case he falls over when he sees you.”        

Tom had taken Mary to their pew and returned.  “Are you ready, Charlotte?”  

“Yes, Tom.  And Tom, thank you.  Thank you for everything.”  

Samuel stepped up behind Alexander in the front of the church.  “Are you prepared brother?”  

“Of course.  Why do you ask?”  

“Because the imaginings you have had about how exquisite your wife would be on this day are not going to touch the reality.  She is incomparable.”  Alexander closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.  Samuel whispered in his ear as he clapped his shoulder.  “Do not fall over.”  

“Are we ready?”  Reverend Hankins asked from his position in the front of the chancel.    

“Absolutely,” Alexander answered.  Reverend Hankins nodded to his sister at the organ and it began.  Leo smiled broadly as she nearly skipped down the aisle, taking her place between Samuel and Susan in the front pew.  Augusta looked stately and mature as she processed down the aisle in steps perfectly timed with the beat of the music.  Alexander looked on with pride.  

And then, there she was.  Charlotte. His Charlotte. And Samuel was right. And he did nearly fall over.  The vision came closer and closer and closer, floating toward him like a siren rising from the sea.  He wanted to reach out and touch her, but somehow managed to maintain his composure.  They had practised this.  He had to wait. 

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”  The reverend’s words faded into the distance.  The light from a glowing Charlotte seemed to radiate outward and envelop them both, surrounding them in the warmth of adoration.  Far in the distance, Alexander heard a slight clearing of the throat as Reverend Hankins said quietly, “Mr. Colbourne?”  

“I will.”  He refocused himself, listened more intently, and smiled broadly as Charlotte answered the same.  

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”  

Right hand, Alexander reminded himself.  Reach with your right hand .  

“On behalf of her father, I do,”  Tom said as he handed her to Alexander and reached up discreetly to wipe his eye.        

The entire ceremony passed in a blurr.  Their faces hurt for smiling.  Their chests hurt for the pounding of their hearts.  Their lips twitched, waiting for the words “I pronounce that they be man and wife together” to exit the Rev. Hankins’ mouth.  Charlotte was not sure if Alexander would kiss her in church or wait until they were outside, but the moment the words were said, he began leaning in.  He slid his hand up her forearm to grip her just above the elbow and she knew immediately that this was not going to be a small kiss for the pleasure of those in attendance.  He was pulling her tightly to him – as tightly as he could, she thought, without indecency.  Her eyes closed reflexively. Then, her husband dropped his jaw and pulled her even tighter to him.  She rose onto her toes to match him and, unbalanced, placed a hand upon his chest to steady herself, lest their entire bodies be pressed together in church.  He was insistent.  If this was to end, she was going to have to do it.  She slowly pulled away, lowering her heels and feeling air between them once more.  She opened her eyes.  He was immovable, still leaning into her space to claim her.  His eyes were soft but unwavering and the sly smile on his face said there was much more to come and she felt herself flush.  

Alexander still had his arm grasping her elbow as he stared into her gentle smile and the sound of the applause in the room finally entered his ears.  He turned, one hand behind his back, the other still gripping his wife .  He was beaming.  Everyone in the room was on their feet.  For her.  For them .  Never had he imagined such a thing.  In that moment, he realised that Charlotte hadn’t brought only herself to this marriage.  She had brought friends with her.  Friends that would now be his.  Theirs .  He looked around the room, seeing so many residents he had known as a boy but not seen in years, applauding merrily.  He felt Charlotte slide her arm around his to link their elbows, as if reminding him that they were supposed to proceed down the aisle.  

Upon reaching the entrance to the church, they broke into a run to re-enter by the side door.  When they reached the alcove, Alexander pulled her in again.  Charlotte responded without hesitation or worry about appearances.  He wrapped his arms entirely around her waist and lifted her to equal his height, her toes pointed as a ballerina’s mid-échappé.  He held her there, at his eye level for what seemed an eternity.  

“Will you put me down, for goodness sake!”  They continued to kiss as she slid down his front.  Her toes again hit the stone threshold.  Alexander spoke against her lips.  

“Well, according to the good Reverend Hankins, it is now my duty to ensure that we are yoked as one, and your duty to…what was it he said?”

“Be plucked as a lily of the field.”  Charlotte rolled her eyes.  She kissed him again and hummed against his lips.  “But despite the reverend’s rather uncouth characterisation, I’m sure it is a duty that I shall thoroughly enjoy fulfilling.”  She raised her eyebrows at him.

He cocked his head to the side in return.  “One hour.  We are attending this breakfast for one hour.”  

“Yes, husband .  I shall not argue with you on this point.”  

“See.  Our marriage shall be one of only agreements.”

Charlotte put her head back and laughed.  He responded by pulling her hips more tightly into him.  He bent to kiss her again.  The door beside them opened.  Augusta immediately looked at the ground. They quickly pulled back, but then Charlotte leaned into him again and gave him another small peck.  

“We needn’t worry about getting caught anymore, my love.”  She smiled up at him.  He offered her an arm back through the church, out the door, and through a cascade of rose petals thrown by their friends.  She was so ebullient that she might float away were she not anchored to his arm.  They reached the end of the walkway to find an open carriage, adorned with roses and pink bunting.  

“What in the world is this?”  Alexander asked.  

“Mr. Pryce thought it appropriate to gift you a ride in his open carriage on this fine day,” Samuel said loudly enough for the gentleman in question to hear.  He then added under his breath, “No doubt he wishes to secure your investment for something.”  

“I don’t remember the last time I drove a carriage,” Alexander replied just as quietly while smiling and nodding at Mr. Pryce.  “If I want to go anywhere by myself, I go on horseback.”  

“I drove wagons weekly in Willingden.  Many times a day during the harvest.” 

“I’m sure you did.”  Alexander shook his head, handed her into the carriage and then handed her the reins.   

“Hayah!”  Charlotte shouted.  They jolted backward as the horse immediately trotted and the shouts of the onlookers disappeared into the distance.  “It will be a while before everyone arrives at Sanditon House.”  She pondered her next suggestion.  “Shall we go home first?”  

Home.  He loved the sound of that.  He loved that she called it that. Yes!   “No.  No schedule, remember.”  

“Right. To the flats, then? To see what Mr. Pryce’s carriage and horse can do?”  She gave the reins another whip and the horse broke to a canter.   Alexander took the reins from her hands and pulled the buggy to a stop. 

“We must exercise caution, Charlotte.  This is not our carriage…if one can call it that.”  

“I have seen Mr. Price running this contraption along the flats several times.  It appears to be great fun.”  

Continuing to hold the reins tightly with one hand, he pulled her in with the other.  As her softness yielded to the contact of lips and bodies, he pulled back and brushed her cheek.  “Yes, but we would not want to crash on our wedding day, or to have either of us injured and unable to partake in the activities to come.” 

“Fine,” she said, and leaned in to kiss him again.  “But I know you, Alexander Colbourne, and there is very little in this world you would enjoy more than testing this horse’s mettle.”

“I can think of at least one thing…” 

“I hope so.”  

Not the time.  Not the place.  Alexander finally pulled back and leaned his head into hers with his hand at the back of her neck.       

“Fathomless,” he said quietly.  

“Fathomless,” Charlotte repeated.  

“Where to, Mrs. Colbourne?”  

“Across the cliff trail to town, onto the beach and across the flats, then back to town and up the main carriage road to Sanditon House?”  

“As the lady wishes,” he replied and gave his click to the horse.  Charlotte nestled herself as closely to him as she could manage and they proceeded along the cliffs, which she thought of as their cliffs, for so much had happened here.  He’d offered her the job of governess here, professed his love here, and stopped her from going to Ireland here.  She had walked them on the way to Heyrick Park, her heart more and more a flutter with each day that passed as she attempted to unravel the mystery of her feelings for Alexander.  They’d ridden along them the night of the ball in the dark, both knowing that they would be alone at Heyrick, both knowing they should not be, both wishing for nothing more than to know the other better.  Her first view of the sea was from these cliffs, as was Alison’s, and Ralph’s.  “I am so delighted that our children will grow up here and know the sea.”  She mused aloud.  “There is truly nothing like it in all the world.”  Alexander leaned over to kiss the top of her head, nestled into his shoulder.

They meandered through town where shopkeepers and fishermen alike nodded to greet them in congratulations.  Alexander reached to tip his hat, only to remember he wasn’t wearing one.  “What has this open carriage done to my hair, I wonder?”  

“It has been entirely blown about, my love.  Your errant curls are more errant than usual.  I daresay the people at breakfast may believe my hands have been enjoying themselves!”  

Alexander laughed a belly laugh.  “Well, seeing as we are married now, there is nothing wrong with that!”  

Charlotte reached up and fluffed his hair further.  “Let us take our jaunt along the flats and then we can pop into Trafalgar House to straighten our hair before we proceed to Lady Denham’s.  I am sure mine is looking rather wind-blown as well.”

They weaved around High Street and down the ramp, the ride immediately smoother on sand than cobbles.  The thick sand above the water line proved to be difficult for the thin wheels of the carriage, but soon enough they had themselves aligned on the wet sand, ready for a speedy jaunt down the water’s edge. 

Alexander handed Charlotte the reins.  “Keep him pulled tightly.  I’ll be right back.” 

“What are you doing?”  Charlotte was surprised as he jumped out of the carriage.  

“I am inspecting the wheels and axles!  You don’t think I am going to allow my wife of less than an hour to go barreling down the beach in a carriage I haven’t inspected, do you?”  

Charlotte rose onto her knees and peered over the back of the seat at him.  “Alexander, really.  It is not necessary.  There shall be no death or nurses on our wedding day.” 

He popped back into his seat and she returned to a forward position.  “Correct.  No death, or nurses, or doctors, or newsworthy accidents.  Not on my watch, anyway.”  He took the reins. 

“I want to drive.”  Charlotte’s voice was nearly petulant.  

“Nope.  You can drive on our return.”

She sighed.  “One of these days, Alexander Colbourne, you are going to do something spontaneous, without any forethought or planning.  And I want to be there to see it.”  She poked him.  

“You have been there to see it.  On several occasions.”  She gave him a disbelieving look.  “There was our picnic.  I’d not planned to stay for that, let alone spend an entire afternoon!  And I certainly did not plan to hand you flowers!  And I did not plan to kiss you after the ball.  I rode to London to get Samuel without even a warning to the household that I was leaving.  I daresay Mrs. Wheatley thought I had lost my mind.”  She smiled at him.  “And I did not plan to follow you onto the cliffs after the shooting party.” 

“Oh?” 

“Samuel.  I was in the study, attempting to send my feelings for you up the chimney with the smoke and failing miserably, of course.  He stood beside me and said, ‘She is not married yet.’  It was only moments before I was out the door.”  

Charlotte slid her arm through his and hugged his upper arm tightly.  “Well then, I retract my statement.  Take me on a ride, Mr. Spontaneous.”  

They barreled down the beach and into their future.   

***

By the time they arrived at Sanditon house, there was a line of carriages up the drive.  

“Everyone is here.  Are you prepared to be the centre of attention once more?” Charlotte asked, certain that Alexander had enjoyed their small respite from the attention.  

Alexander pulled under the portico and halted the horse.  “With you by my side, I believe I can face anything.”  His smile was warm and loving and showed this deep belief in the words he spoke.  He sprung from the carriage and jogged around to offer her a hand.  “Shall we, Mrs. Colbourne?”  

“This way,” Higgs muttered in his normal monotone, as if it were an ordinary day.  “The guests are expecting your arrival.”  They entered the entry hall.  “Wait here while I announce your presence.”  Higgs turned to the large room, and took two steps forward.  “My lords, ladies, and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Colbourne.”  

The applause was quiet, for everyone had a drink in their hand, and so cheers of hey, hey! and here, here! were added.  Alexander leaned down to his bride and whispered, “I’ll be right back,” as he let go of her arm to gather some champagne.  Reluctantly, he took some for himself, determining he should at least have a glass to raise, if not to sip.  Drinks in hand, he turned to see his glowing bride circulating from guest to guest, and the same thoughts occurred to him that had crossed his mind in church.  As she moved from one small group of people to the next, each person smiled at her in turn, genuine happiness clear upon their faces.  These people loved her…the entire town.  There could be no finer lady for Heyrick Park.  She had single-handedly made it a part of the town once more.

Alexander had not really seen her dress from the back.  The gathered skirts fell across her round bottom in a perfect drape from the waist.  The layers of white, soft pink and blue accentuated her every movement.  She was beauty and elegance and grace…and she was his .  And as much as he tried to fight it, his thoughts turned again to what was going to happen next.  He calmed himself.  All in good time, Alexander .  He watched her join hands with Augusta, who seemed to be speaking with a rather appropriate-looking young man. 

Finally, Charlotte turned her beaming smile in his direction.  The moment was like a miniature of their lives to come.  She would be out and about the town–teaching, visiting, and socialising–but she would always return home…to him.  Alexander Colbourne had never been so happy or content in his life as at that moment.  He handed her the champagne, brushing his outer fingers along the back of her hand.  She slid into his arm as he pulled her close and he could not help but look over her head and out the window toward Heyrick Park.  He kissed her along her hairline just above her temple, holding his lips there and inhaling the scent of rosewater.  No one in attendance could question how much he adored his wife.  “One hour,” he whispered in her ear as he pulled his lips back.  He raised his glass in acknowledgement of all who had come to celebrate and they raised theirs in return.  Rather than a toast, he offered a simple, “To Charlotte.”  

“To Charlotte,” the room echoed.  

***

Alexander handed his wife into the waiting green carriage, ducking his own head to follow.  He knocked twice on the roof.  Charlotte leaned forward and waved to the children running after them until the speed of the horses became too much for their small legs.  

“Are you happy, Mrs. Colbourne?”  

“Gloriously so.”  

“The day was everything you wanted it to be?”  

“Yes.”  She smiled.  

She looked to Alexander as if she were the sun itself, with a blinding golden glow.  He leaned down and put an arm under her knees and lifted her across his lap. As he wrapped his arms to keep her close and safe on the bumpy ride, she ran a finger down his cheek.  

“Well,”  Charlotte had a coyness in her voice, “perhaps not everything…yet.”  She reached for the shining buttons of his jacket.  

“Charlotte, you cannot undress me in the carriage!”  

“I am not undressing you.”  She lied.  It was her full intention.  “I just want to see your waistcoat.  The parts that are peeking from your jacket imply it is rather magnificent.”  Alexander smiled and shimmied to drop his jacket from his shoulders, removing his arms one at a time while still holding his wife on his lap with the opposite.  Charlotte reached out and ran her fingers along the beautiful white embroidery on blue silk.  “Did you buy this in London?  The tailor matched the patterning across the buttons and pockets!  That is exquisite.” 

“Thank you.  Susan insisted that I visit a tailor of her acquaintance on Bond Street, though given her current situation she suggested that I neither mention her nor use my own name for fear the man would not serve me.” 

“What name did you use?”  

“Heywood, of course.”  

Charlotte leaned in and kissed him, opening her jaw to deepen the kiss immediately.  

Alexander emitted a quiet growl.  “Charlotte, if you continue to kiss me like that, I am not going to be able to exit this carriage with my dignity intact.”  

“Says the man who opened his jaw and kissed me just like that in front of the entire congregation!”  Charlotte leaned into his stubbled jaw.  “Hello pot, I’m kettle,” she whispered in a voice so alluring that it forced him to swallow hard.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her taunting was so erotic that he simply forgot he was nervous, thinking instead about how utterly incredible the next few hours, perhaps days, were going to be.  He tried to take control of the situation before coming entirely undone, quieting her teasing with his lips.  The carriage hit a bump.  Their teeth knocked.  They pulled back and laughed only momentarily before diving in again.  Charlotte untied his cravat, slipped it off and tossed it upon the opposite bench. She bit her lip as she delicately opened his collar.  

The nearness of her was intoxicating.  Alexander began to return the gesture, trailing his fingers along her jaw, down her throat, and across the exposed parts of her breasts.  “Exquisite breasts in an exquisite gown,” he whispered as he replaced fingers with lips.     

“Exquisite man in an exquisite waistcoat,” Charlotte replied as she reached for the buttons.  “But right now, it is in my way.” 

Alexander felt like everything was in his way – the necklace that adorned her neck, the earrings in her ears, the flowers in her hair that prevented him from running his fingers through, the dress that covered the body he so desperately longed to claim, his own clothing – even the length of the goddamned carriage ride!  He wanted all of it gone as soon as possible.  He reached to her ankle and ran his hand the length of her leg, finding the bare skin at the top of her stocking.

“Charlotte.” His voice was laced with desire.   

“Xander.” 

“You cannot call me that.  I am not being sweet.”  If she could hear his thoughts, she would be calling him nearly anything but sweet.  He was a ravenously hungry man in front of whom had just been placed the most delicious fillet.  He wanted to devour her.  But, he reminded himself as he held his lips to the level of delicate caressing, the very best things in life should be savoured, not devoured, and he was determined to ensure that was how the afternoon progressed.   

“Are you not?  What are you then?”  

“Lustful,” he slid his hand a bit higher, “of my lovely wife.”  She felt him smile against her neck.  “Licentious.”  He untied the garter ribbon and tickled the inside of her thigh.  Charlotte giggled in return. “Lecherous.” He slid the garment below her knee.  

“Alexander Colbourne, are you trying to charm me with alliteration?”  

His roaming fingers found the edge of the curly locks at the top of her thigh as he buried his lips in her neck.  “Is it working?”  

Charlotte whimpered.  “Absolutely,” she replied, emphasising the L in the third syllable.  She reached down and moved his hand higher, granting him permission to explore further and his ability to savour rather than devour slipped just a bit more.  “I am feeling markedly lewd .”  

“Lascivious,” he countered, looking up at her with a mischievous spark in his eyes as he found the damp folds of skin that awaited his further attention.  Her spine arched against him and he held her tightly.  “Lucious,” he added.  

“Alluring?”  She asked, again emphasising her L . 

“God yes. When will this damnably long carriage ride cease?” 

“It is indeed lengthy.”

Alexander rolled his eyes inwardly but outwardly continued his ministrations. “We really must stop.”  

“The kissing or the alliteration?”  

“Both!” 

Charlotte laughed lightly.  “Reached your limit, have you?  Well, that is lamentable because your lips are exceedingly lovely.” 

“My limit!”  He slid his right hand up her back and wove his fingers in her hair, disregarding the pins and flowers, and pulling her lips to his in a gesture of dominance.  “Charlotte Colbourne,” he began.  She melted at the sound of the name.  “My lips shall be lavishly demonstrating my limitless love for you by liberally placing kisses on every part of your luscious body for a laudable length of time, and at the end of it you shall find yourself liberated from any lingering notions of loquacious linguistic ability.”   

“Is that a promise?”   

Alexander slid a finger of his left hand against a spot she had never found herself and she collapsed into him with a whimper. 

“That’s a promise.”   

“How much longer?” Charlotte asked breathlessly, her eyes closed.  She was uncertain what he was doing, exactly, with his fingers below her dress, but she was certain she was already climbing whatever mountain she was supposed to reach the pinnacle of.  

They finally recognised the end of the drive, but neither of them stopped kissing the other.  Alexander exited the carriage cravat-less and jacket-less.  He offered a hand to Charlotte.  She tried to take a moment to pull up her stocking, but he pulled on her hand and she exited with one stocking around her ankle.

“Alexander!”  She hissed, “The coachman!”  

“I pay Jonathan enough to forget what he sees.”

“We.”  

“What?” 

“ We pay him enough.  Remember?  ‘With all my worldly goods, I thee endow?’”  

He pulled her in and kissed her malapert mouth in a way that forced said coachmen to scramble up to his seat and take the horses immediately to a run. “I was focused on the ‘With my body, I thee worship.’”  

They stumbled through the door.  Charlotte had her small slippers off much more quickly than Alexander did his boots and headed for the stairs.  “I will be only a few minutes.” 

He grabbed her hand.  “A few minutes?” he inquired, wondering why she wished time alone.  Had he been too forward with the way he’d touched her in the carriage?  Did she need to gather herself?  Prepare?  Was she nervous or worse, afraid?  

“Yes.  Susan and Georgiana purchased me something in London that they say I am supposed to wear, although, in all honesty I'm not sure it should qualify as wearing anything at all.  Honestly, I don’t really see the point.”  She turned again to walk away, but Alexander stepped up behind her and wrapped her tightly in his arms.  He found he wished to see said garment.  He wished more to see the body beneath it.  He whispered over her shoulder. 

“Charlotte, are you changing because you think that is what you are supposed to do?  For me?  For yourself?  What do you want?”  Charlotte lost herself in his gentle swaying, his hand as it followed the curves of her body from hip and across her belly to her breasts, and his warm baritone in her ear.  She turned in his arms. 

“I want you .”  

Her words struck Alexander in a way he did not expect.  What had he thought she would say?  That she did want to change?  That she wanted to be alone?  That she was not ready?  That she was ready here and now?  For whatever reason, the three simple words made his heart swell in his chest and nearly brought him to tears.  She wanted him – every part of him, embracing every pain of the past and every failed attempt at expressing himself – and it was astounding.  

“Alexander?” 

“I’m sorry.  I got lost in thought for a moment.”

“Good thoughts, I hope.” 

“The very best.”  He took a deep breath.  “Are you ready, Mrs. Colbourne?”  

“I am ready.”  

He swept her from her feet and carried her up the stairs. She laughed with her head tilted back in joy.  When they entered the bedroom, a new furniture arrangement greeted them with an additional armoire, already filled with Charlotte’s dresses, and a dressing table between the windows to make the most of the natural light.  

“Did you make these changes?” Charlotte asked.

“No.”  

“Mrs Wheatley,”  they said simultaneously and smiled.      

“Well,” Charlotte continued, “I may not be changing into a night rail, but there are still things I must do.”

“Such as?”    

“Remove my jewellery, my hair pins, and this very expensive gown.”   

“May I help you?”

“I do not need help.” 

“I did not say that you needed help.  I asked permission to help you.”    

“Oh.”  She blushed.  

He used his forefinger to raise her chin.  “You promised to trust me, remember?” 

“I remember.  But I also…I also want to please you.” 

“Charlotte.  It would be impossible for you not to please me.  Trust me.  Now, tell me what to do.” 

“Alright.”  She sat at the mirrored table.  She put her fingers on her necklace.  “It is so beautiful, Xander.  I am reluctant to remove it.”  

Alexander paused for a moment to prevent himself from diving at her when a vision of a naked Charlotte wearing only her necklace danced before his eyes.  “Leave it on then.”  He barely got the words out.    

Charlotte reached up and removed her earrings.  She did not want them to get tangled in her hair.  “I am going to take these silk flowers out of my hair.”  She raised her arms and began the process.  He, meanwhile, was gathering the ends of her hair in his hands to move them out of his way so that he could brush his lips along the tendons of her neck as she tilted it back and forth to reach her pins.  Charlotte flushed in the mirror. “Is that what you define as helping?” She teased.  

“Mmhmm.”  He gave her an impish grin in the mirror.  As the last of her curls fell from their pins, he spun her on the stool and knelt before her.  “You look absolutely resplendent today.”  

“I am glad you approve.” 

“Approve?  Approve!  Charlotte, there has never been a more beautiful woman in the history of time!  Had you been in Athens the Greeks would have turned around and sailed back across the Aegean without giving Helen a second thought!” 

She blushed again.  The time was getting closer and although she had been leaping ahead in the carriage, she now found herself feeling more nervous than she thought she would.  

“What next?” he asked.      

“Well, my dress, I suppose.”  

“Is that acceptable to you?  I won’t remove it unless you are comfortable.”  

She wanted to shout yes from the rooftops, but somehow she also wanted to hide.  How was such a contradiction possible? Her desire and her sense of logic combined to win the moment.  “Given that I have previously encouraged you to remove my underclothes and the activities in which we have previously engaged, I would say yes, that is acceptable to me.”    

She turned around again, to grant him access to the clasps.  Rather than unclipping them immediately, he ran his fingers through her hair once again, gathered it over her shoulder, and kissed each bone in her spine until he came to the first clasp.  He unhooked it to expose a tiny patch of skin never explored.  He kissed it as well.  Another clasp and another patch of skin.  Another kiss.  By the third clasp, he had reached the top of her underdress, and finished the clasps of her gown three in a row.  Turning his attention to her shoulder, he slowly slid the beautifully tucked sleeve over the crest of her shoulder, trailing his lips behind the fabric as it slid, gently kissing the bruise from the claim he had laid the evening before.  When the neckline caught on the other side, he repeated his ministrations until the dress dropped to her waist and she slid her arms out.  Wishing for his lips, Charlotte turned and stood, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him back to her mouth.  She raised onto her tiptoes and the dress fell in a puddle to the floor.  She put a hand to his chest and forced him to take a step back so that she could step from the puddle.  She bent to pick it up.  He pulled her by the hand.  

“Leave it.”

“I will not.  It is silk and it was very expensive!  I will absolutely not leave it on the floor.  We can wait for thirty seconds while I hang it.”  

Alexander smiled in amusement.  His practical wife.  The dress was not expensive, not compared to what he had seen in the shops in London, though he was sure it felt that way to her.  Yet, there could not have been anything finer for her on this day.  It suited her perfectly.  

Charlotte moved deliberately slowly, trying to contemplate what she would do next.  Did her underdress come off or was his waistcoat next?  She was, after all, wearing considerably less at this point than he was.  She pulled an empty hanger from the bar beside her own dress and handed it to him.  

“For that gorgeous waistcoat of yours, husband.”  Alexander rolled his eyes, staring her down with mischief on his face as he dramatically unfastened the silver buttons.  He dangled it from a single finger, tongue in cheek, before allowing it to fall to the floor.  When she went to pick it up, he moved behind her and fondled her bottom.  He gathered her skirts in his hands and untied her second stocking.  “Helping again, are you?”

His “Yes,” came from somewhere deep in his throat as he pressed his entire body to her back with his lips on the crest of her shoulder.  “Well then, Mrs. Colbourne, how shall we proceed?” 

Charlotte did not answer with words.  She dove at his lips, moist and eager.  She found his ties at the small of his back and tugged at the leather string until she felt the small pop of the loop sliding out of the bow.  She tugged on his shirt, freeing it from being tucked, and produced her own noise from her throat when she made contact with the skin underneath.  

Urged by her eagerness, Alexander reached behind him, grabbed his shirt, and tugged it up over his head.  He threw it in a pile on the floor.  Charlotte stepped slightly back and swallowed, taking in the sight of him.  Unlike in the cabin, she now felt entirely entitled to gawk.     

“You aren’t going to make me hang that one too, are you?”  Alexander smirked.  

Charlotte shook her head and turned.  “Untie me,” she said.  Her voice sounded more like a command now.  She knew exactly what she wanted – to feel her naked chest pressed against his.  Alexander obeyed and the stays were gone in moments.  He did not realise that while he was completing his task, Charlotte was untying her chemise so that when she turned all she needed to do was wiggle a bit and it fell to the floor.  Just as she was about to press herself into him, she found him backing away.  Caught entirely by the wonder of her, he stepped backward until his knees hit the vanity stool and he involuntarily sat onto it.  His chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  

Charlotte was suddenly self-conscious.  She hugged her arms across her stomach and reached up to touch the jewel that still hung at her neck.  She stared back at him, unsure of what to do.  

“Don’t!” he said.  He had meant, “You are beautiful, don’t cover yourself,” but his single word utterance instead caused Charlotte to pull further into herself.  He sprang from his seat and pulled her into his loving arms.  “Here, let me,” he said, reaching for the clasp of the jewel and unfastening it.  It fell with a thunk to the floor, but neither of them cared to worry.  A jewel could not get wrinkled.  “Charlotte.”  Alexander pressed his forehead to hers, his voice pleading with her to understand.  “Do you know how much you mean to me?”  

She licked her lips, dry from her heaving breaths.  She gingerly closed the gap between them to let him know that she did understand, and that she was alright and ready to proceed.  His lips were dry too, and she gingerly used her tongue to wet them as she had her own.  

With the laces unfastened, his trousers had fallen low on his hips.  As the longing to feel one another overtook them again, Charlotte ran her palms firmly down his back and under the waistband, sliding the trousers over his buttocks.  She adored the feel of his muscles under her fingers.  He stepped out of the pant legs and she threw her entire body against him, kissing him as if in a fever, appreciating the hardness of him pressed against her abdomen.  

Finally, he slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her around his waist, walking with her legs wrapped around him to the bed.  He turned around and sat, with her straddling him.  Sitting in this manner, her shorter torso was lifted just enough to make them even in height and two sets of deep brown eyes stared adoringly.  

Their feverish pace slowed as Alexander cupped her face in both hands.  He wanted to make absolutely sure she knew how much he cherished her.  He started in again slowly, tucking her curls behind her ears and searching for spots on her skin that his lips had not yet touched.  He found such a place on the soft skin just behind her ear.  Charlotte giggled quietly. 

“A most interesting spot,”  he commented.  “I shall have to remember that one.”  He placed a hand at the small of her back and pulled her more tightly into him.  Charlotte cooed as he attempted to determine if he could elicit the same reaction on the other side, but this time, he simultaneously slid his hand across her ribs and just as he found the spot he was looking for, caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.  She did not giggle this time but instead collapsed into him, releasing any remaining tension as she gave in to her desires.  She tilted her head back to grant him access to as much of her as possible and he felt the tips of her curls brush his knees.  When his lips had met every inch of skin available to him in their current position, he stared at her.  She was rolling her head back and forth, lost in the pleasure she was experiencing. 

“Charlotte,” Alexander finally whispered.  She took a moment before opening her eyes to look at him. 

“Hmmm?” was all she managed to say.    

“Do you remember the evening that we tucked Leo into bed and then I brought you to this room?”  

She nodded.   

“And you remember the lovely little discovery you made?”  

“How could I forget?” she giggled.  

“Well,” he resumed kissing her lips.  “I wondered if you might like to try to find it again? Only this time,” Alexander slid back on the bed, his lips and hands inviting her to come along, “you do not need to stop until you feel satisfied.”  

Satisfied?  How would she know when she was satisfied?  What did it feel like to be satisfied?  Susan spoke of a pinnacle and a release.  Was that what Alexander meant?  She closed her eyes in concentration and tilted her hips, trying to recreate the sensation.  It did not take long, skin to skin as they were.  She found the tip of him and managed to place exactly the part of her that elicited a response upon it.  She gasped.  Relaxing and feeling less need to concentrate so intently, she opened her eyes to find Xander was smiling up at her adoringly.  She choked back a sound. 

“You are allowed to make noises, My Love.”  

“Am I?” 

“Yes.”  

She did.  She could feel it happening, just as Susan described.  He was an iron rod beneath her as she felt the dampness of her own body cover him and sliding became easier, and she went faster, and pushed harder.  Her mind silenced, her body led and she felt a shudder run through her spine as her voice made a sound she had never heard before.  Breathless and disoriented, she opened her eyes.  Alexander could only be described as beaming. 

“Are you alright, my love?”    

“I don’t…I don’t know what I am!”  

“Mesmerising,” he said in awe of her.  “Absolutely Mesmerising.”  

She was still catching her breath as coherent thought finally occurred to her.  “Do you like that spot?”  She asked. 

“What spot?” 

“This spot,” she said, brushing the soft spot below his ear where he had kissed her so sweetly.  

“I do not know.  No one has ever kissed me there before.” 

Charlotte nervously allowed her lips to leave his, exploring.  His stubble felt rough against her soft lips.  She liked it.  She found the spot she was looking for.  She kissed it.  He offered no reaction.  Summoning her courage, she tried the tip of her tongue.  She was just about to give up when the side of her tongue accidentally brushed his earlobe and she heard the tiniest breath catch in his throat.  “Well, well,”  she said, “what is this that we have discovered?”  She stuck her tongue out again and ran it along the edge of his ear.  Alexander Colbourne whimpered.  He actually whimpered.  Charlotte giggled at him, which he could not stand.  His wife was sitting atop him, deriving pleasure from him, sharing that pleasure openly, even wantonly .  He twisted his fingers in her hair, palmed the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers with new urgency.  There had been many times when his need for her nearly overpowered him but now all he had to do was ask her and the strength of the passion that rose within him was unbearable.      

“Charlotte…”

“Alexander…” 

They had spoken one another’s names simultaneously.  

“Are you ready?” 

“I believe I am ready.”  

They spoke again in tandem.  

Alexander spoke through his kisses. “You are in control, Charlotte.  You set the pace.  You can accept as much of me as makes you comfortable and you can move or be still as you please.”  

Charlotte was sure this was not how it was supposed to be.  She’d had conversations with four different women.  None of them mentioned that she would do anything other than lie back, relax, and allow herself to be taken.  She trusted that Alexander would do so with love and careful diligence for her comfort.  But he was asking her to do the taking.  He was trusting her with a power he could have claimed for himself and in doing so earning her trust in return.  She’d have cried if she was not so aroused.  

“Xander, how do I…”  

He grinned sweetly.  He’d been planning this for weeks, attempting to imagine the best way possible to ensure her comfort.  Then, on the evening she had made her discovery, it occurred to him that he needn’t be so concerned.  She could find it herself if he granted her the opportunity.  His wife knew her own mind.  She knew her own body as well.  Charlotte’s eagerness and her inclination to express it freely in the progressing weeks had convinced him further of the rightness of his decision.  “Just find an angle that is comfortable and slip me inside.”  

“That is all?”  

“That is all.  You can use your hand to help if you need to.”  Charlotte still looked puzzled.  

“Why don’t you try what you were doing before,” he suggested.  Charlotte began to slide.  “Good, now, when you get to the top just tilt your hips a bit and you will feel me.”  

Diligent student that she was, she followed his instructions to the letter.  He lifted his own pelvis just enough to assist her.  She gasped and froze, but Alexander’s eyes were reassuring and adoring and as soon as she looked in them she knew there was nothing wrong with what she was doing.     

“Can you feel me?” he asked.  Charlotte closed her eyes.  She could feel him pushing firmly through her patch of curly hairs and against her folds of skin.  Her body ached for more of him.  She opened her eyes and nodded.  “May I?” he asked, as he took her hand.   

She bit her lip but was simultaneously smiling.  Excited and nervous all at once.  She nodded again.  He reached their hands down to help her separate the folds of skin and stretch her fully around his tip.  

“And now?” she wondered, remembering his previous comments.  “Like a glove on a hand?”      

“Like a glove on a hand.”  

She inhaled through her teeth.  She reminded herself to relax and accepted a bit more of him. A marvellous feeling of love and fullness overcame her.  It did feel like a glove on a hand – a fine, soft leather glove that fit exactly as it was designed.  A smile lit up her face and Alexander knew all was well.  Confident she was comfortable, he allowed his hands to wander her form again.  She leaned down to kiss him and it did not take long for the fire of desire to build once more.  Fingers at her neck and thumb at her cheek, Alexander put his second hand in the small of her back to hold them together as he rolled her.  He stilled.  

“How do you feel?” 

It was wonderful.  Miraculous, even.  “It is pleasant enough.” She smirked.   

“Only pleasant?”  He pushed slightly deeper.  

She moaned with delight.  “More than pleasant,” she managed to say.  Alexander enlarged his eyes, silently asking permission to move within her.  Charlotte nodded a final time.  She exhaled a soft but delighted cry.  Her heart pounded as she adjusted to the feeling. 

Alexander finally allowed his own moan to escape and dropped his head to her shoulder, attempting to gather his faculties.  Charlotte, his Charlotte, had just allowed him the most loving gift of all.  He whispered her name in her ear and raised his head again to check on her.

“Xander,” she gasped again as he increased the pace.      

“Move with me.”  

From the time of their first kiss, they had always moved as one with their lips, falling into one another so naturally, their bodies silently calling the name of the other.  This was no different.  Talking stopped.  Eyes spoke.  Words turned into gasps, gasps into smiles.  Smiles turned into kisses, kisses into moans.  His breaths aligned with the movement of his hips and he let out small sounds of pleasure with each one.  Charlotte found herself breathing with him, cradling the sides of his face as he held himself above her and pressed his nose into her cheek.  The rhythm was getting easier to follow.  She bent her knee and wrapped his thigh with her lower leg as she fell into rhythm with him.  There was such joy in watching him.  She understood now what Susan meant by everything falling away and there being only the two of them.  Alexander, who had so long buried his heart, dropped all his defences and disappeared entirely into her.  Father, uncle, brother, husband, farmer, master of a 1,000-acre estate; he laid his burdens at her doorstep and asked if they might carry them together.  He released a deep, guttural sound from the back of his throat that sounded almost like a cry.  It caught Charlotte by surprise.  He collapsed onto her.  Charlotte closed her eyes in an attempt to recover and regain her composure.  Her chest was heaving.  So was his.  She could feel them moving in tandem, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. His warm breaths in the crook of her neck were like a sea breeze, filling her with peace and contentment.  Then, it started to rain. 

“Xander?”  She rubbed his back to encourage him to look at her.  “Are you alright?” 

He laughed and cried simultaneously, his eyes and mouth seemingly contradictory.  “The virgin is asking me if I’m alright?”  He closed his eyes momentarily and allowed her to wipe them with her thumbs.  “Charlotte, I promise you, I have never been more alright in my life.  That was…You are…”  

“What?” 

“It seems I am the one who has lost his linguistic ability.”  

She looked at him as if to say, try .  

Alexander tucked his forearms under her shoulders and reached up with his hands to pull her hair from her face.  He kissed her on the nose.  “I love you.”  

“Well, those are nice words. My favourite, in fact.”  

Alexander kissed her on the cheek, repeating the words.  He then moved to her brow, and temple, and the cleft of her chin, repeating them each time before resting on her lips with reverence.  “I love you, Charlotte Colbourne,” he said before finally separating their bodies and rolling onto his back beside her.  He rested his wrist on his forehead, “And as soon as this body will allow, I shall show you how much I love you again.”  

They sighed simultaneously. 

“I think I rather like being loved.”  She found his hand between them and interlaced it with her own.  “It was…” 

Alexander’s curiosity piqued, fascinated to hear what she would say.  “Go on,” he encouraged.  

“Well…it was like a rough day at sea, I suppose.  You wade in beyond the break, enduring the discomfort temporarily, and then you ride the swells, higher and higher and higher until finally, the largest of waves crashes down upon you and you lose your balance and are tossed and turned about and when you finally come to the surface, you realise that you have been washed ashore.  And despite the intimidating nature of the adventure, you cannot wait to take the journey again.” 

Alexander turned his head to look over his shoulder.  She did the same, their noses nearly touching.  “I have married a poet.”  

“I must admit to some surprise though,” Charlotte offered quietly, “that you seemed so overwhelmed.  You have experienced it before.”  

“I have not ,” his soft brown eyes reflected the truth of his words. “Not like that.”  He turned again to the ceiling. “It does not always feel like this, Charlotte.  Trust me, it is very possible to go through the mechanics and feel nothing of the sort.  That was…”  He lost his words again. 

“LLLLovely,”  She concluded.  

He laughed and squeezed her hand.  “Yes.  Lovely.”  

They lay in silence for only a few moments before Charlotte said, “How is it that we have just been as close as two people can possibly be, and I am sharing a bed with you and holding your hand and yet you are too far away?”  

Alexander chuckled and released her hand to invite her in against him.  She slid her entire body into his side, throwing her hip up over him and tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder.

“Better?” 

“Better.” Charlotte used her free hand to trace the sinewy lines of the muscles in his upper arms, making light little circles with her fingertips.  “You know, until our rainy day in the cottage, I had long been wondering what was above your rolled sleeves.”  She traced the line of his muscles over his shoulder and down his clavicle to the notch that showed when he did not wear his cravat.  “And what was below this little spot right here, which invited me in long before it was proper for it to be doing so.” 

“Mrs. Colbourne, were you having improper thoughts about your employer?”  

Charlotte giggled.  “Alexander Colbourne, that question may just be the height of hypocrisy!”  

Alexander laughed in return as they pressed their palms to one another, both taking stock of the differences in the lengths of their fingers.  “And since our day in the cabin?”  

Charlotte looked up at him and smiled.  “I have been wondering what the rest of you looked like.” She kissed him and snuggled back into his chest.  “When did you first dream about me?” 

“Daydream or night dream?”  

She lifted her head again.  “It was often enough that you must distinguish?”  

Alexander gave her a look that said that she probably did not want to know how often, or how early in their relationship, he had dreamed of her. 

“Daydream,” she decided. 

“Malacology.” 

“What!”  She feigned offence.  “I’d only been here a week!”    

“Well in case you did not know, my dear, your mind is…utterly mesmerising…and the fact that this body of unparalleled beauty comes with it…”  He made a groaning noise as he fondled her bottom and pulled her tightly into his hip.  “I would venture to say it is more than any man could take, especially one who has lived as a monk for a decade and then finds a goddess in his midst.” 

“So I left the room and you sat there daydreaming at your desk?” 

“Mmhmmm.  In fact I’m not sure I actually completed any work at all during your tenure.”  He tucked her curls behind her ear.  “You inhabited my every thought.”   “Well I shall have to make it a point to visit the study each day then, to ensure that you are, in fact, working, and that the estate is not falling into ruin.”   

“That most definitely will not help!”  He changed the tone of his voice as he ran a single finger from her shoulder to her hip.  “If you are present, we will be using the desk for far more enjoyable purposes than reviewing ledgers and writing correspondence.”  She raised her head to kiss him and he broke into a smile against her lips as she rocked her pelvis against his hip, enjoying the sensations it brought.  “Someone is not yet sated, I think.”

“Pardon?”  

He simply smiled and stared at his beautiful bride.  Of course, she would have no idea.  She had taught him so much over the past months, but today, he was teaching her.  He rolled her once again onto her back.  “Well, it just so happens that after one is ‘washed ashore’ as you so aptly put it, a man takes a certain amount of time to recover before re-entering the waters but a woman…”  His voice trailed off as he ran his lips delicately down her neck and across her collar bone.  “...A woman can dive right back in if she chooses.”  He continued, “You are not the only one fascinated by this spot, you know.”  He kissed the dip above her sternum.  “Especially because it leads to these.”  He took one lucious breast firmly in his palm, raising the nipple to hardness with his thumb before placing his mouth upon it.  He thought perhaps he had not paid them enough attention the first time and he set out to remedy that mistake immediately.  Charlotte gasped.  Alexander continued, “Speaking of things that were inviting me in long before it was proper for them to be doing so.”  

Charlotte moaned through her words, “I always dressed appropriately…for work.”

“Garden Party,” Alexander mumbled through a mouthful of breast.  She squirmed.  He kissed his way across to the other side.  “I turned after greeting our hostess and there you were, shining like Aphrodite in the sun, and these…luscious mounds… were greeting me for the first time.  I could not look you in the eye for fear I would stare.” 

Charlotte put her fingers in his hair.  “Well, I certainly looked at you!  Given your state of dress, or lack thereof, around the estate, I was surprised to find that you owned such finery!”  She was not sure he was paying any attention to what she was saying as he continued his ministrations below.  “And then, you went and removed your jacket and rolled your sleeves and began shooting arrows with deadly accuracy!”  She pulled him up by the hair to kiss him.  “You are very handsome, you know.”  She felt slightly embarrassed, but they were officially husband and wife now, and naked, and in bed, and she didn’t imagine that life could really get more intimate than that, so she ploughed forward.  “I would be lying if I did not say that there were more than a handful of times during our rather rocky courtship that I had difficulty fighting the urge to simply walk up and kiss you.”  

If she only knew , Alexander thought, but that could wait for another time.  He tugged her closer and ran his hand up her thigh.  She gave a sharp intake of breath.  “And now?  Can you contain yourself now?”  

“I believe I made a vow today that would indicate I no longer have to.”  

He slid his hand from her thigh all the way up her side, relishing the giggle she let out when he found the ticklish spots he remembered.  He kept going until he had her arm over her head, kissing her from elbow to underarm.  She giggled at that, too.  “I told you that I would remember,” he teased. He felt her shiver.  He was unsure if the shiver was coolness, nerves, or delight.  He reached for the sheet and pulled it up over them like a cocoon.  “Well, we managed the first part rather well, I think.  Are you ready for the second?”  

Charlotte replied quietly within the safe little space he had created.  ”There is a second part?”    

“There are as many parts as we wish.”  

Charlotte smiled and put a finger to his lips before replacing the finger with a kiss.  “I love you, Alexander.”  

Alexander pressed his forehead into hers with his thumb brushing her cheek in the way that she adored.  “Remember, you promised to tell me if I do anything that you do not enjoy.”  

“Yes.” 

“Then, please let me show you, once again, how much I love you.”  

Charlotte nodded. Alexander kissed his way down her body and she returned to the waves. 

Chapter Text

“I suppose you should get dressed,” Charlotte said, hoping that the sore spot on her back was not a splinter.    

“Yes, though there is no one here to care, at least for one more day.”  

“No space for lazily lying in one another’s arms?” 

Alexander Chuckled.  “I suppose not.”  He kissed his way down, across her breasts and abdomen as he attempted to find the floor with his feet.  “God, Charlotte.  I can’t stop.  I don’t ever want to stop.  I am glad that Samuel and Susan took the girls.  I can’t…I can’t…” 

“I know.”  She giggled, still a bit breathless.  “It has been rather…” 

“Magnificent?”  

“Yes.”  

He stood at the end of the table, grabbed his britches and drawers, which had been removed together in one fell swoop, and replaced them both with one jump.  He reached to help her as she slid to the end of the table, pulling her in with arms around her waist.  “All I can think about is everything I want to do to you and all of the places I want to do those things and all of the sounds you will make when I do.”  

Charlotte rose onto her tiptoes to claim his lips, humming as she did so.  “You like my sounds?”  

“I adore your sounds.”  He reached up with his thumb to find her nipple through her shift and see if he could elicit one such noise.  Charlotte’s voice changed pitch as her lips parted and her humming turned to a small ahhh .  He found the other side and she giggled.  

“Alexander! We just got done!”  

“Is that a challenge, Mrs. Colbourne?”

“And we knocked the apples on the floor!  We must pick them up.”  

“Must we?”  He spoke with a devilish look in his eyes that said he had no intention of doing so, at least not for the moment.  A silk waistcoat was one thing, but apples could wait.  He began fisting the skirts of her shift and robe as he lifted her once more to the end of the table.  He knelt in front of her, placing her leg on his shoulder.  “I don’t think I’ve kissed this spot yet,” he said, as he pressed his lips to the ball of her ankle.  “Or this one.”  He moved his lips to the small divot above.  “Or this one.”  He repeated as he worked his way toward her knee.  When he reached the inside of her thigh she let out a breathless sigh and the hairs there stood on end.  He’d come to her with his lips only once thus far, and it had not taken long to elicit the response they both desired.  If he was honest, he’d been thinking for weeks about how he would approach her in this way, attempting to remember his skills, if indeed he ever had any, and thought that now seemed the right moment to try again.  

“Charlotte,” he said her name quietly, almost reverently, into the flesh of her thigh.  “May I kiss you?”  She could feel his warm breath pooling before her.  It was divine.  She remembered the first time he had done so, while she was still reeling from their consummation and smiled at the prospect.  How many times had they come together, in one way or another, over the past two days?  She’d lost count.  But in each case, passion and concern had mingled effortlessly.  

“Do as you wish.” She replied just as quietly as he had asked.  He had earned her trust.  She squirmed beneath his touch.  That was the noise he was looking for.  A moan that said she had left this plane of existence and gone to some far off place where all that existed was the physical ecstasy he could provide.  Charlotte fell off of her elbows and flat onto her back. He tugged at her legs so that her bottom was nearly off the table.  She bucked against the pressure of his tongue.  

“Will you die a sweet death for me, Charlotte?

She cried out and bit her knuckle.  “I think that I shall.”  He pushed against her again.  “I know that I shall…oh for the good of all that is holy what are you doing?”  She heard him chuckle into her flesh as some combination of tongue and fingers and pressure sent her reeling… again .  She must have been silent for longer than he would have liked because his voice had a hint of concern. 

“Are you still with me, Mrs. Colbourne?”  

She propped herself once more onto her elbows.  “Barely, I think.”  She reached for his hand and he offered the needed counterpressure to pop her feet to the floor.  “No one told me it would be like this,” she said as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him, curious to know how she tasted.  “That our couplings would be so frequent or… enjoyable .” 

Alexander held her face in both hands and brushed his nose to hers.  “It gladdens me to hear you speak of your enjoyment.” If she was not mistaken, his voice was tinged with relief.  

“I enjoy it very much,” she said sweetly as she fiddled with the button of his shirt.  “Perhaps it would be unladylike for me to admit just how much .”

“You could never be anything other than the finest of women to me.  I simply want to offer you the care and enjoyment that you deserve.”   

“I know.  The concern you have shown for me over these last days has left me with no doubt as to your love.”  

“Good.”  The sigh he emitted was definitely one of relief.  Their stomachs growled simultaneously.  “We originally came down here for food, did we not?  Are you still hungry?”

“Starving.” 

“So am I.  I am not sure I feel like stew for breakfast, though.”  

“Agreed.  Eggs this morning, I think.”  She stared at him.  His eyes grew suddenly large and he pointed to himself.  “You did say you wanted to provide for my every care,” she said as she collected the final apple from the floor, placed it in the bowl on the table, and then sat on the bench to watch him fumble through the kitchen. He clearly had no idea where to find the items required for making eggs, let alone how to cook them.  She could no longer contain her laughter.  “I was only kidding, Alexander.  I know that you have never cooked an egg in your life.”  That line brought his biggest sigh of relief yet.  Charlotte stood, “But you are about to learn.  Then, the family can make breakfast for Mrs. Paisley on her birthday and she’ll be very impressed that Mr. Alexander Colbourne cooked her eggs.”  She took a bite of apple and held it out for him to do the same.  They kissed with juices on their chins.  

“There could not be a finer lady for Heyrick Park.”  

Charlotte’s eyes sparkled as she took another bite.  “Now, the first thing you have to decide is what type of eggs you wish to make, because that will determine the type of pan you need.”

“Well I have always preferred them like little round white pockets with just the right amount of yolk inside for dipping my toast.  I don’t know what Mrs. Paisley does to them, but they are stupendous.”  

“Poaching! Ha!  Not the easiest way to start, Mr. Fancy, but I’m willing to teach you if you are willing to learn.” 

“Mr. Fancy?  I thought I was Mr. Spontaneous?”  Alexander cracked his knuckles.  “Teach away, Mrs. Colbourne.”  

“Alright.  First, the fire must be tended, to boil the water.” 

“That, I can do.”  He put several logs on and poked them to a blaze.  “Next?” 

Charlotte handed him a saucepan.  “Fill this pan with about 4 inches of water.”  

Alexander looked around him.  There was a pitcher on the table.  It filled the pan with approximately two inches.  He looked around again.  No more water.  “A trip to the pump it shall be, then.”  He took the pitcher.  Charlotte grabbed two buckets. He gave her a strange look.   

“We will need it later.  If we are going to the well, we might as well fill more than just the pitcher.”  She followed him out the lower entrance, through the gate, and across the courtyard to the pump.  “We used to play around the pump in Willingden, stomping in the puddles and splashing.  My youngest sister and brothers still do.”  She had a contented smile on her face. 

“Do you miss your family?  They are rather abundant.  Having experienced it myself, it is very quiet here by comparison.”  

“It is a welcome change, I assure you.  Being in a house of fourteen people means there is never a moment’s rest.  I do miss them in many ways, but I do not miss that.”  She held the bucket as he pumped.  

“Sam and I used to play here, too.  We would run at the beach all day, or along the muddy river in our bare feet.  We would be so dirty that Mrs. Wheatley would not let us back into the house to bathe.  We had to bathe here instead.  She would dump bucketfuls of water over us.”  

Charlotte smiled.  It was a rare occurrence that he shared a happy memory.  Her heart swelled when he did so.  She set the full bucket down along the wall and handed him the empty one.  When he turned to pump, she grabbed the full bucket and tossed the water at his back, causing him to yelp loudly enough that she worried the stable staff may have heard him.  

“Charlotte!”  She backed away with a smile, ready to dart away should he try to chase her.  “It’s cold!”  

“Water from the ground usually is.”  

“You are lucky that I am very hungry.  He carried the pitcher back toward the kitchen.  Eggs are on the agenda, I believe.  Poached eggs.”  He extended a hand to her.  “But I shall need my teacher, I’m afraid.”  As soon as she took his hand, he reeled her in as if to kiss her and dumped the entire pitcher over her head.  Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, dripping water from the tip of her nose.  Then she turned and took off at a run into the gardens, daring him to chase her.  The few seconds it took him to set down the pottery without breaking it gave her the head start she needed to disappear behind the nearest hedgerow.  The grass was still moist with dew and it dampened her woollen slippers, which did little to protect the soles of her feet.  One slipped off but she was not going to take the time to retrieve it and allow him to catch her.  It did not take long before she was thoroughly lost, but she could not have cared less.  Her most pressing worry was that he would find her.  She carefully scouted each corner before she went around it and jumped about a foot in the air when his voice appeared from behind her.

“As-tu perdu quelque chose, Cendrillon?  You didn’t honestly think you could hide from me in gardens I’ve known since I was a boy, did you?”  

“Alexan–”

She was flat on her back in the grass in seconds.  There was much grabbing of buttons and fistfulls of fabric and neither of them was satisfied until they felt their bodies unite.  They both paused and stared. Charlotte reached up to his cheek as he hovered above her.  

“After we were sick, you told me that you imagined it would feel like coming home.  Does it?”  Alexander nodded and looked at her with soft brown eyes.  

“So much so that I don’t ever want to leave.  We have thus far this morning failed to eat and failed to obtain water because I cannot stop wanting you.”  

“It is the same for me.  The joy of watching you come undone, knowing that I am the place you choose to do so…it is quite magical.”  

Alexander bent to claim her lips as he began to move, forcing himself deeper and harder into her than he had dared to thus far.  She watched him as he raised on his arms and arched his back and found his way home…for the third time that morning.  When he’d finished, he lowered himself to his elbows above her.  “As much as I disagree with the good Reverend on most things, I believe he may be right.  I cannot imagine there is anything holier than this.  It is…it is like…” 

“...sharing a soul.” 

“Yes.”  They both winced as he separated their bodies.  “Though at the moment I fear the body may be requesting the soul to give it a break.”  He rolled onto his back in the grass beside her, the dew not bothering his already dampened back side.  She sat up and buttoned him.  Then, she stood and offered him a hand. 

“Water then eggs?  Poached eggs?” 

“Yes, and no amount of wanting shall stop us from our mission.”      

Back in the kitchen, they waited for the water to boil.  His hands began to wander.  She pushed him away.  “Uh, uh.  Eggs.”  She said firmly. 

“Eggs.” He echoed.  

“We shall need a small cup or bowl to crack them.”  She stretched to the shelf to get a round soup mug.  Alexander ran his hand up her elongated side and around to her breast, cradling her back against him.  She bumped him with her backside.  He groaned.  “This should do the trick.”

“Why the mug?” 

“You crack the egg into the mug first to ensure that the yolk is intact and that you do not get any shell with it.” 

“Logical.” 

Charlotte put the mug on the end of the table and handed him the egg.  What was he supposed to do with it?  Crack it, he supposed.  How did he do that?  He’d seen Mrs. Wheatley do it on the edge of the mug when he was a boy, so he tried that.  He tapped it gently.  Nothing happened beyond the hollow sound that emanated from the empty mug.  He tapped it harder.  The entire egg collapsed into his hand as half of it went in the mug and half oozed between his fingers, down the outside of the mug, and onto the table.  Charlotte burst out laughing as she grabbed a tea towel from the laundry line and wiped the mess.  

“It is alright.  It has happened to me many times.  Let’s try again.  Here, it is like this.”  Alexander watched as she gracefully tapped an egg on the table and opened it one-handed into the mug.  “See, easy.”  She took another mug from the shelf and handed it to him.     

“Easy,” he said doubtfully and took an egg in his left hand.  He tapped it on the table.  

“That is still too gentle.  Not too gentle, not too hard.  It has to be just right so that you get a crack but you do not split the shell into tiny pieces.  The shell should stay intact except for the crack.” 

“How hard is too hard?” 

“You will get a feel for it the more you do it.” 

“Are you expecting me to make many eggs?”  

“No.  Here.”  She placed her hand on top of his and tapped the egg gently.  “Good, now use both hands and…Voila!”  The egg fell into the mug in one piece, no shell. “Very good, my love.”  

Alexander spun her by the waist, cupped her face with both hands and kissed her soundly.  “I have a very good teacher.”  

She fiddled with his open buttons and ran her fingers in the hair on his chest.  “As do I”  She turned her head to the side and wrapped her arms around him.  “As much fun as it may be to have marital adventures in the kitchen or the garden, I believe I have a growing preference for locations where you can hold me afterward.”  She nuzzled her forehead into his collarbone.  “I like it here.”  

Alexander cradled her head and kissed it.  “I like you there, too.”  He looked across the room to see steam coming from the pot on the fire.  “Water’s ready, I think.”  

“Bring the eggs.” Charlotte left their embrace and grabbed a wooden spoon.  “Now, all you have to do is stir and then drop the egg in quickly so that it all goes in at once.” 

“Stir and drop.  That is all?”

“That is all.”  

Alexander moved the spoon back and forth in the water.  

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said.  “I forgot to say ‘stir in a circle.’  The whirlpool will help to keep the egg intact.”     

With the flourish of a feather pen, Alexander stirred and poured and then beamed as he watched the egg turn white before his eyes.  “Well would you look at that!  That wasn’t so hard.  How do we get it out?”  

“We will use a slotted spoon.  But while I retrieve it, you must sing God Save the King three times.”  

“Three! Why? Why on earth am I singing it at all?”  

“Because the egg should cook for one-and-a-half to two minutes.”

“Can I not simply count to one hundred five?” 

“No.”  She leaned up to kiss his cheek  “But you could count seven fifteens.” She bumped him with her hip as she went to find a slotted spoon.   

***

“Mr. Stringer?”  

James Stringer turned to see a rather professional-looking man, despite his slightly-crumpled hat, on the arm of a woman he recognised but couldn’t place.  

“I am Samuel Colbourne, representative for Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux.  This is Lady Susan de Clement.”  

“No introduction is necessary, Mister Stringer and I met briefly last year when I handed him his trophy at the Sanditon Gentleman’s Boat Race.”  

Of course!   “Ah yes, Lady de Clement.  My apologies for my inability to place you.”  

“No apology is necessary, Mr. Stringer.  It was a brief encounter at best.”  

“Do I understand correctly, Mr. Colbourne, that you are the former Miss Heywood’s brother-in-law?”  

“Yes.  Charlotte married my brother last Thursday.  His estate is just outside Sanditon.”

“That is nice to hear.  I can think of no one that deserves happiness more than Charlotte.”  He turned to look at the row of shacks before them.  “Is this the property, sir?”  

“It is,” Samuel pointed his cane.  “It extends from that corner down the entire block of frontage, at an angle down that diagonal street, and then cuts inward on the back side in.  In reality, it is a five-sided property, which does make it somewhat odd for building.”  

“I don’t see that as odd, sir.  It makes my job more interesting.”  

“Oh?” Susan asked.  “And how is that?”  

“Well, anyone can design for a square, my Lady.  An oddly-shaped property could make for a more interesting shape for the building, or the layout of the complex.  Might we walk around to the other block to see where the property cuts away from the street.”  

“Of course,” Samuel offered Susan an arm and began to walk.  

“Have you worked on other projects in this area, Mr. Stringer?”

“Well, I must be honest.  I’ve never completed a project in London.  I designed the buildings in Sanditon with Mr. Parker, in addition to being foreman.  He did not want to spend the money on an architect.  Here in London, I have been apprenticing with Whitaker, Johnson and Trone.”  

“A prestigious firm.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid that Mr. Whitaker’s views would not allow him to work with Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux.  I am embarrassed to say that he sent them from the premises without ever meeting them.  But, I’ve original ideas and unlike most architects, I’ve worked the other side, making the ideas come to life, as it were.  It gives me a practical view, which is what Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux have expressed they wish for the building.  They want clean, practical, high-quality housing but without the bells and whistles that increase expenses.”  They passed a small shack to their left. 

“Here is where the property cuts inward, Mr. Stringer.”  

“I see that you are wearing your town clothes, Mr. Colbourne, so I shall be the one to traipse through the mud.  I would ask that you take the end of this chain for me.  I will walk inward and just give me a holler when I’ve reached the inner boundary.”  Mr. Stringer wound his chain from the reel, having carried the heavy item on his back to the site.  He continued around the property, asking Samuel to hold the chain here or there.  He levelled it, marking the distances in his notes.  Just as he was finishing, a woman came out of the decrepit cottage to their right.

“Lookin’ to put us out, are ye?”  She asked.  “No doubtin’ they’ll be puttin’ in some grand buildings like they did ‘cross the park.”  

“On the contrary, madam, the proprietors of this project have the intention of building affordable housing for freedmen and their families as they are freedmen themselves.”  

“Freedmen who can afford a building!  I’ll believe that when I see it.”  

“I believe you will, madam.  Good day,” Stringer tipped his hat. He headed back across the muddy land to where Samuel and Susan were standing, wrapping his chain as he went.  

“What was that about?” Samuel asked.  

“Just a local, wondering what we were about,” Mr. Stringer offered.  “I believe I have what I need, Mr. Colbourne.  When are Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux planning to return to London?”  

“They are planning to return in mid-November.  But in the meantime, Lady de Clement and I have something we’d like to ask you.”

***

4 October 1820

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux - 

On Tuesday last, I had the pleasure of meeting with your representative, Mr. Samuel Colbourne, as well as Lady de Clement, at the site where you wish to build.  With Mr. Colbourne’s assistance, I was able to survey the property for accurate measurements and have developed some initial drawings to share.  

I also wish to thank you for the introduction to Mr. Colbourne as he has requested me to draw plans for a house to be built along the coast on the property of Heyrick Park.  As such, I will be travelling to Sanditon with Mr. Colbourne, Lady de Clement and their two charges on Saturday, 11 November.  I will bring the plans with me to gain your input before returning to London and meeting with you on site to finalise the plans.

I look forward to meeting with you and to seeing Sanditon again.  

Sincerely, 

James Stringer 

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Alexander Colbourne opened the door to his study and motioned for Mr. Molyneaux to enter before him.  “Do you require any refreshment, Mr. Molyneaux?” 

“No, thank you.  I am not one to partake often.  Only at parties and such and even then, only as much as is required so as not to look foolish.”  

Alexander nodded in recognition of the commonality.  He stepped to the fireplace, added a log, and stoked the flame.  “Please.”  He offered Mr. Molyneaux a seat.  “Charlotte tells me that you are a merchant.”  

“I am.” 

“And what goods do you trade, if I may ask?”  

“Anything and everything that is untainted by slavery.  I am part of the British Free Produce movement.  We strive to provide consumers with options that do not involve forced labour.”  

“That must be a difficult task.  To trace the origins of goods.” 

“It is.  And I must admit that we are not always successful.  But we are able to provide shirts made of Indian cotton and East Asian silk as well as sugar from that region.  We are persistently expanding our network of importers whom we can trust in order to properly trace the goods.” 

“An admirable pursuit, Mr. Molyneaux.” 

Silence befell the room once more.  Otis used the opportunity.  “Speaking of admirable pursuits, Mr. Colbourne, Georgiana informs me that we owe you a great debt of thanks.  She informed me only just before your wedding that it was you who recruited your brother on her behalf.”

“I was merely doing what was required of me.”  

“That is quite modest of you to say, Mr. Colbourne, but I would wish you to consider that there are few Englishmen who would believe such an action was required on behalf of a black heiress.”

“You give me too much credit, Mr. Molyneaux.  Though I prefer to think that I would have done what was required had I learned of Miss Lambe’s situation through means other than Charlotte, the fact is, she is Charlotte’s dearest friend and there is no question that added, uhm…..extra motivation.”  

Otis smiled.  “Ah.  I know that particular form of motivation quite well, Mr. Colbourne.  It can possess a man’s soul, can it not?” Alexander smiled.  “But in the little time I’ve known you, I will prefer to believe that you would have done what was required regardless.”   

“I appreciate the benefit of your good opinion and shall endeavour to maintain it.  And please, our wives are dear friends.  I believe first names are in order, yes.”  Otis nodded.  “Do you ride, Otis?” 

“Not at all.  I was a waterman when I was enslaved.”  

“My apologies.  I had no idea.”  

“None is necessary.  I was taken from my home in Africa as a child, but providence placed me in the path of a gentleman who had second thoughts about the institution and granted me manumission along with an education.”  

“I see.”  Alexander had no reply.  What reply was there?  

“He had a fleet of boats which we used to move cane in and out of the tidal rivers of Barbados, where the cane was grown.”  

Alexander remained silent.  Otis was used to the reaction.  He lightened the air.   

“All of that is to say that I am uncomfortable on a horse, but as comfortable as a porpoise in and on the water.”

“I see.  Well then, perhaps we will have something to offer one another, Otis.” 

“Oh?” 

“Charlotte tells me that Sanditon hosts a regatta each summer.  This is an event of which I was unaware, having locked myself away here at Heyrick.  But, having married Charlotte, I find that I am once again very much a part of the town.”  Alexander’s voice had a tone of exasperation and fear.  “She informs me that there is a gentleman’s boat race in which Samuel and I will be required to compete, but which I fear would be quite an embarrassment for us and for our ladies.  Might you consider teaching my brother and I how to row a boat?”  

“I can do better than that.” Otis leaned in a bit.  “If you are both dedicated to the cause, I can teach you how to win.”  

Both men smiled. 

“In exchange, of course, I can offer you stable access and riding lessons. And for Georgianna as well, should she wish.”  

“Well, I would say we should toast to it, but I don’t believe either of us wishes to do so.”  Otis smiled.  

“A handshake will do, I believe.”  Alexander extended his hand.  Just then, a pair of light footsteps came scurrying down the hall. 

“Mr. Molyneaux!” Madison Timberly, a housemaid, spoke.  She appeared in the doorway and spoke with urgency.  “My apologies for interrupting, sirs.  Mr. Molyneaux, your presence is required in the parlour.  Your wife is ill, sir.”   

***

“Heyrick Park does not have a ladies parlour as there has not been a Lady in the house, well, ever really.  The former Mrs. Colbourne never entertained here, I am told.  So we shall use the drawing room and I suppose the men will simply have to content themselves with Alexander’s study.”  

“Should we not invite them in, then?”  Georgiana asked.  

“Xander is far more comfortable in his study, I assure you.  And tonight, that is good for him.  It has been years, truly years, since he had the company of another man.  Particularly one with whom he may wish to be friends.  He will prefer the smaller, familiar space for such a purpose.”  

‘Xander?  When did you begin calling him that?”  

“A few weeks before we married.  I told him that I would only call him Xander when he was being sweet, but he seems to like it and so I use it most often now.  It was his childhood name, apparently.  It is what Samuel calls him.”

“Well, apparently Otis’ nickname was simply O, so I’ll not be calling him that!”  The women giggled and then turned silent.  Georgiana reached for her friend’s knee.  “So?  How has marriage been treating you?”  

“It is lovely, of course, though I must admit that it does not yet seem real.  It did take on a more realistic quality when the staff returned, but I don’t think I will have a complete answer to that question until the girls return on Saturday and we learn to navigate life together.  Ask me in a month.”  Charlotte smiled.  

“Charlotte!  That is not what I was asking!” 

“It wasn’t?”  Charlotte’s face reddened when she realised what her friend was asking.  “Oh.  Well, that is lovely, too.  More than lovely.  Wonderful actually.”  A sudden sense of giddiness filled the room.  “Do you remember the fair, when I went up in the balloon?” 

“With Colonel Lennox. Yes.”  

“Well, I was trying to ignore that bit of it.  Anyway, the feeling of flying was amazing.  Soaring.  Heart Racing.  Never wishing to come down.”  Charlotte sighed.  “That is the best way I know to describe our relations.  I never wish to stop.  It is an addiction.  It is love opium.  But here, I am being selfish in only talking about myself.  How is marriage treating you?”  

“It is quite lovely, as you say.  We are slowly learning one another, I think, in our bedroom and in our marriage.  Goodness, sometimes, when I am alone I can still feel him touching me, waiting expectantly for him to come home, as if I’ve nothing else to do with my time.  It is quite bothersome, actually, and yet I’d not have it any other way.”  

“I know what you mean.” 

“When we are in London, Otis insists he must visit the shops he distributes to.  It has been nice to be here in Sanditon, where we’ve nothing to focus upon other than one another.  And we have been doing a lot of… focusing .”  The ladies each let out a small giggle.  “But, I can tell he is anxious to get back.  I don’t believe he has ever been away from his business for this long.  I tell him that he does not need to worry about the money, of course, but he is not used to it yet…having money.  He seems concerned about his income.  I’m not sure why.” 

“A man still wishes to provide, no?  Regardless of the wealth of his wife?”  

“I suppose.”  

Mrs. Wheatley entered.  She poured a cup for each lady.  She handed a cup to Georgiana.  “Are you quite well, Miss Lambe?  You seem a bit pale.”  

“Do I?”  

“Mrs. Wheatley?”  Charlotte inquired.  But the older woman was already across the room, fetching an empty water pitcher and then kneeling before Georgiana.  Georgiana grabbed the pitcher and emptied the contents of her stomach into it  “Oh, Georgiana!” Charlotte scooted over on the settee and rubbed her friend’s back.  Mrs. Wheatley stepped to the round breakfast table and retrieved a serviette, signalling to Madison, the maid in the room, to retrieve Otis from the study.  

“I do not know why this is happening.  The same thing happened after we returned from the Parker’s last evening.  But I felt fine today.”  Georgiana sipped some of her tea.  It was no use.  It came right back up again.  The quick footsteps of the men were heard and soon, Otis was kneeling in front of his wife. 

“Are you ill again, dearest?” 

“Yes.  It seems that cabbage no longer agrees with me.  It is the only thing that I ate at both dinners.”  

Charlotte and Mrs. Wheatley smiled at one another.  Alexander spoke to Madison.  “Miss Timberly, will you please see to it that a room is prepared in case Mr. and Mrs. Molyneaux must spend the evening.” 

“Sir.”  Madison curtseyed and disappeared.    

“Perhaps some fresh air is in order.  Georgiana, would you care to take a walk along the drive?”  

“Yes.  That sounds nice.”  

“Gentlemen, might I request you to gather our coats, scarves, and mittens?”  The men left and Charlotte quickly turned to her friend.  “Georgiana, when was the last time that you had your courses?”  

“I do not know.  I…”  

Charlotte took her friend’s hands.  “Georgiana, I believe you may be expecting.  Illness is a common sign.  My mother was somewhat ill with most of my brothers and sisters and violently so with Thomas.  It will pass.  Now, let’s take a walk and perhaps you will feel a bit better.”  

*** 

It was midday.  Charlotte leaned against her husband who, in turn, leaned against the trunk of the willow tree.  

“Did you enjoy going on rounds today?”  Alexander asked. 

“I did.  I hope that I shall be invited again in future.”  

“Of course.  Come along whenever you like.”  

“I was happy to see the Thompsons doing so well.  It is nice, I think, that the baby was born at the end of harvest.  That way, Jeremiah can stay home with his family for a bit instead of being in the fields each day.”

“The gift of time.”  He changed topics.  “Did you get to speak with Anne Baker during our visit today, or shall we just begin calling her Mrs. Battlesford at this point?”  

“I did, and yes, it seems a foregone conclusion.”  

“By her choice?” 

“What choice does she have , Alexander?  She has a child and no husband or means of supporting herself.  She has always been poor.  Henry has a tenancy and a well-paying one at that.  She must feel as though she has struck gold!  They seem to get on well enough, and I do not believe she is being coerced.  She says that Henry is very kind to her, and grateful for the help with the children.  It seems an agreeable match for them both.”  

“Agreeable.  Is that the standard for marriage?”  

“For many people, yes.  It was for me, for a time at least.  My situation was not so different from hers.”  

Alexander sighed into her hair.  “I will forever be sorry.” 

“And I will forever forgive you.”  She looked up at the house.  “I love the view of the house from here.”  

“It is very nice, isn’t it?” 

“It is.  If anyone had told me last year that I would soon be the lady of such a grand house as this, I would have laughed at them.”  

Alexander cleared the hair from her right shoulder and neck, moved the collar of her pelisse, and planted a kiss there before speaking in her ear.  “You shall be the finest lady this house has ever known.”  He breathed deeply and took in the view once more.  “When Leo informed me that you had returned to Sanditon for Georgiana’s party, I could barely keep my heart in my chest.  I had gone to Bath in part because I simply could no longer tolerate being in the house.  It felt so empty without you – without your warmth and your grace.  On the day that I received the news of your return I took a walk about the grounds.  I stood in this very spot and I looked up at this house, our house, and for the first time in months I felt hope.”    

“Hope that I dashed quite soon after, I am sure.” 

“Yes,” he chuckled in recognition.  “It was quite a trying day.”  He kissed her again and his voice became quieter and more solemn.  “But it was also the day that I finally admitted to myself that no amount of effort would banish you from my heart.  That I was yours.  Completely.”  She turned to look over her shoulder at him.  He put his palm on her cheek.  “I am yours, Charlotte.”  

She leaned in to kiss him, meeting his lips delicately and reverently, then nestled more deeply into him. “Lucky me.”  

They spent a good portion of the afternoon nestled in contemplative, loving silence.  Every few minutes, Alexander would brush his lips in Charlotte’s hair or press his lips to her temple.  But mostly, they sat, enjoying one another’s company for their final day before the chaos of the family’s– namely Leo’s–return.  

The chill of the autumn day finally began to make itself known as the sun dipped lower in the sky.  They began collecting their picnic. Charlotte stood, looking at the house once more as she made the final fold of a blanket over her arm.

“Alexander-”

“Yes, my love?”  He did not look at her as he gathered the pillows and basket in his hands.  Charlotte moved to stand in front of him.  

“There is something I want to tell you, before everyone arrives.”  

“What is that?”  

“My courses were due yesterday.  They did not come.”  

Alexander set the basket down with a thud.  It sounded as though something inside shattered but neither of them paid any attention.  The pillows were once again on the ground.  “You are certain?” 

Charlotte added her blanket to the pile.  “I am certain that they were due.  I am certain they did not come…yet.  We shall wait and see.  If they do not appear within the next week then there is a good chance that you are going to be a father again.”  She tugged on his lapels.  “And this time, to a child of your own blood.”  She stood on her toes to kiss him.  A salty tear ran off his cheek and onto their lips.  Charlotte reached up with her thumbs to wipe them.  “I wanted to tell you before everyone arrives.  We’ll not tell anyone else yet, not until we are certain; but, I thought after all of our activities these past weeks, you might be wondering.”  

“It didn’t even occur to me.  That is to say, I did think of it before we married, but since then I have thought only of how much I enjoy being with you and all of the different ways I might express that.  The results, or lack thereof, beyond your enjoyment are inconsequential.” 

She continued to hold his lapels.  “Well, first of all, it is not only my enjoyment that is important.  Yours is as valuable to me as mine is to you.  And second, I would say that our actions are quite consequential, as they will certainly change our lives and the lives of the girls.”  She rested her palms on his chest.  “Are you happy?  I cannot tell.”  

“Happy?  Yes!  Happy doesn’t begin to describe it, Charlotte!  I think, perhaps, I do not fully believe it.  I am sorry if my reaction is not what you expected.  I am overjoyed.  I promise.”  He pulled her tightly to him, swaying with her head tucked beneath his chin.  “A baby,” he whispered.  He repeated it several times in different tones, volumes, and registers, as if he were trying to convince himself of its truth.  Finally, Charlotte felt his chest convulsing.  She feared he was crying and pulled back to look at him.  He was laughing.  He was simply overcome with joyous laughter.  He lifted her by the waist and spun her before allowing her to slide down his front to join their lips.  Kneeling in front of her and putting his hands on her abdomen as if he were praying, he pressed his lips to her navel.  Charlotte ran her hands through his hair as he rested his forehead against her.

He was silent for a long while.  His back rose and fell with his breathing.  Suddenly, Alexander was on his feet and Charlotte was backed against the willow tree.  One hand was behind her head, forcing her lips to his with urgent need. The other clutched the route through which their child had entered her body, finding only a fistful of skirts.  

“I did not think it was possible for me to want you more.  But should we?” 

“Oh yes.  Alison assures me in her latest letter…let me see, what did she say…that ‘creativity born from avoiding her growing abdomen is quite an enjoyable part of marriage.’”  

Alexander tipped his head back to laugh.  “Is this what sisters write about in letters?”  

“Among other things.”  

“Well, you are not round yet, but that doesn’t mean that creativity isn’t fun.”  He took her hand to lead her further away from the house.  She tugged on his hand.  

“Alexander.” He ceased to pull on her arm and turned back to face her.  “I love you.” 

“Lucky me.”  

***

Susan and Augusta sat in the drawing room of Colbourne House.  Samuel was at his office, completing some work before their return to Sanditon.  Leonora could be heard somewhere on the second story shouting ‘ surrender’ with her toy soldiers. 

Augusta looked up from her book.  “Susan?” 

“Yes, Augusta?” 

“May I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my dear.”  

“I was standing with a group of ladies at the ball Thursday evening.  I do not think they knew that we had arrived together.  They were speaking in hushed tones, but I could hear them.  They…They said…” 

“Go on, Augusta.  I am certain that whatever they had to say is nothing I’ve not heard before.”  

“They said that you were the…King’s paramour.”  

“Indeed.  I was.”

“I do not mean to cause offence in any way, but, you chose my Uncle Samuel over the King?”  Augusta could not entirely keep an incredulous tone from her voice.  

Susan laughed.  “Have you ever seen the king my dear?  Any woman with eyes would choose your Uncle Samuel over the King!”   

Ew .   “So you were not in love…with His Majesty?”  

“No, I was not.”  

“But you allowed him to…” 

“Yes, I did.”  

“Why?”  

“I was not a virgin, my dear.  I was a widow at thirty.  I had nothing to my name.  But, I had my beauty.  The King seemed to find that a precious commodity.  He professed to love me, and I believe he did, for a time.  In exchange I received a comfortable life – my own apartment and staff, my own box at the opera and ballet, jewels, clothing, and an invitation to every event in town.  But…” 

“But?” 

“But, I did not have love.  I lacked any true friends.  I was no longer the king’s mistress when I met Samuel.  He had found other, younger entertainment to please him more.”  Susan continued, more seriously.  “Even if I had still been attached to the king, as it were, I’m not sure that would have kept me from falling in love with Samuel.” 

“But he is a solicitor with limited prospects.”

“And I am a widow of three and forty who has been used and discarded in front of all society!  I’m not sure Samuel is the one with limited prospects.” 

Aha! “So Uncle Samuel is merely your current choice of limited options?  A way to support yourself while you find a better one?”

Susan was gobsmacked.  Where was this coming from?  Had Samuel put her up to this?  It sounded like a solicitor’s line of questioning.  “Augusta!  How dare you question my integrity!”  

“How dare you misuse my Uncle’s!”  Augusta stood and walked out of the room.  She saw Leo coming down the hallway.  “Come, Leo.  We are going for one final dish of iced cream before we depart.”  Her younger cousin cheerfully took her hand and skipped out the door. 

Susan fell back onto the chaise.  Was that how Augusta truly felt?  Alexander?  Charlotte?  Did they all question the attachment?  Samuel?  Surely not.  She did not have time to think further about it as their travelling companion arrived.

***

James Stringer navigated the sidewalks of Mayfair with his travel case and documents in hand.  He’d not returned to Sanditon since coming to London and though he was excited to see how the town had progressed following the fire, he and Mr. Parker had not parted on the finest of terms.  And Charlotte…well, he was not, in all honesty, sure how he felt about seeing Miss Charlotte Heywood.  “Mrs. Colbourne,” he quietly corrected himself.  He looked at the address once more and rounded the corner.  

A young girl was running in the opposite direction, chased by her governess.  On second thought, this woman could not possibly be a governess.  She was dressed in a beautiful turquoise velvet spencer with maroon details that matched the ribbon on her bonnet.  The bonnet itself had intricate green and maroon stitching along the edge that highlighted the colour of the young woman’s eyes.  In all honesty, he’d not seen a woman as beautiful since…well, since Charlotte Heywood.  No, not a governess, certainly.  A sister?    

“Leonora!  Please wait!  There is no need to run!”  

“I want to be sure to get some!  There is no ice cream in Sanditon!”  

Stringer stepped in front of Leo.  “Excuse me, young lady, but I believe your sister has asked you to wait.”  Leo dodged around him and continued her dash to the iced cream parlour.    

“I am not her sister,” Augusta emphasised, “I am her cousin.  And what business is it of yours?”  

Stringer bowed.  “My apologies, Miss.  I was merely trying to offer assistance.”  

“I do not require your assistance, nor that of any man, thank you very much.”  Stringer bowed silently, Augusta curtsied and called, “Leonora!” before chasing after her once more.  

James Stringer continued on his way, approaching the large black door of Colbourne House and tapping the knocker.

“Mr. Stringer!”  Susan pulled herself together and greeted him.  “Please do come in.  We are not quite prepared yet to leave.  Mr. Colbourne is completing some final business at his office and the girls have gone around the corner for a final serving of iced cream, which seems to have become their favourite London treat.”  

“I believe I may have met them along the sidewalk.  One young lady seemed quite excited to have iced cream in her hand at the earliest possible moment, and the other seemed rather perturbed with the younger’s excitement.”  

“That sounds about right,” Susan smiled.  “We will be ready to depart shortly.  Do set your travel bag here with ours and please, join me for some tea before we depart.”

Mrs. Tanner, who was both housekeeper and cook at Colbourne House, brought the tea and Susan offered Mr. Stringer a cup.  “Do you take honey, Mr. Stringer?  We do not use sugar, due to the boycott.”  

“Yes, please, and thank you.”  He took the cup and then a sip.  “Would you care to see my initial thoughts on paper, My Lady, based upon your description of the site?”  

“That would be most pleasing indeed.”

“Leonora!”  Augusta’s voice echoed through the hall.  The young object of her anger appeared, a bowl in each hand.  

“Lady Susan!  I brought this for you!”  Leonora handed the bowl of vanilla to Susan, out of breath.  “I ran all the way to be sure that it did not melt.”  Susan took the bowl.  “Mr. Smithton said that we can return the bowls to him at our earliest convenience.”  

“Well thank you, Leo.  How thoughtful.”

Leo turned and stopped short when she finally noticed Mr. Stringer.  “That man,” she pointed, “tried to stop me from getting iced cream!”  

“Interesting perspective, I must say,” Stringer replied to her as he set his tea back upon its saucer.  “I seem to recall asking you to wait for your cousin, not telling you to stop completely.”  

“But-”  

“Alright, Leo, that’s enough,” Susan admonished her.  “Take your iced cream to the table and eat it before it melts.  We shall be leaving soon.”  Leo walked away.  Susan held out her bowl.  “Would you care for some iced cream, Mr. Stringer?  I fear that too many sugary treats disagree with a lady’s figure.”  

Stringer attempted not to eye her up-and down. She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful figure.  Any man could see it.  He happily obliged.  “A rare treat,” he smiled.  “Pardon my asking, but does iced cream not contain sugar?” 

“Ah yes,” Susan replied, “But that is why we only go to Mr. Smithton’s parlour.  He has pledged only to use East Indian sugar.  Similar to Chawston’s, in Sanditon.”  

“Ah yes, Chawston’s!  It will be very pleasant indeed to have one of Mrs. Chawston’s sweet rolls again!” A voice from behind him admonished him once again. 

“Well, if it isn’t the knight in shining armour, always available to help any lady in distress whether she desires it or not.”  

Susan glared at Augusta.  “I apologise, Mr. Stringer. My nieces are usually much better at minding their manners.  May I introduce Miss Augusta Markham.”

“Miss Markham.”  Stringer bowed to Augusta.  “It is of no worry, I assure you.  A lady is entitled to her opinion as much as any man.”   

“How refreshing,” Augusta replied, only half sarcastic.  “What are these?”  She motioned to the drawings on the table.   

“Some possible façades for the house to be built on the bluff at Heyrick Park.” 

“They are rather modest.”  

“Well, I am only a humble solicitor, after all.”  Samuel spoke from the doorway.  He crossed the room to greet his love.  “Hello, dearest,” he said as he kissed her on the cheek and handed her a single red rose.  “Mr. Stringer.”  He turned.  “Excellent to see you again.”  

“A pleasure sir.”  Stringer turned again to the vexing young lady beside him.  “Mr. Colbourne described the site as a place of exceptional beauty.  I’d not wish for the building to overwhelm the site.”  

“Indeed,” Augusta replied, puzzled at his seeming lack of desire to make a statement with his building.  Her uncle turned to her, holding a pale pink rose before her.  “A rose for each of my ladies.”  

“Thank you, Uncle.”  

Leo ran over to him with iced cream on her chin.  “And yellow for the bearded-lady.”  He smiled and Leo giggled.  “Was it good?”  

“Delicious!” Leo announced.  Samuel popped her nose with his finger and she scampered back to the table to drink the melted cream from her bowl.      

“Are these the plans?” Samuel turned back to their guest.  

“They are some renderings of facades,” Mr. Stringer replied.  “I thought we might look at them on the site to see what we feel would best fit with the surroundings you described.  Once we decide, it will not take me long to draw the formal interior plans.  

“Excellent.”  Samuel clapped his hands together once.  “Are we ready to be off, then?”            

***

Alexander popped a small bit of pear into his wife’s mouth.  Her rear side was warmed by the hearth behind her and her front side by the heat coming from her husband.  The flames reflected in his pupils which, in the dim light of night, were quite large.

“This is a large room for us to be heating at night, Alexander.”  

“I do not care.  We are on our honeymoon.”  He leaned down to kiss her.  “Everyone returns tomorrow and we had not yet graced this room with our presence.  This is where it all started, after all.”  

“You said that your affections began the moment we met.” 

“I did.”  

“Then reason would suggest that it was your study where all of this …” she motioned between them, “...began.”  Alexander pulled her closer and attempted to kiss her impertinence away.  

“You really do like being right, don’t you?”  Charlotte looked down between them, refusing to meet his eye.  He was being loving and considerate with his picnic by the fire and she was being unappreciative on their last night alone.  “No matter.  Perhaps I should have been more specific and said, ‘This is the first place we expressed our affections.’” Charlotte did not reply.  She wanted to honour his efforts.  After eating a bit of pear himself, he said, “Alright!  Out with it!”  

“What?” 

“You are silent.  That means that you disagree with me and you are biting your tongue.  So, say what you have to say.”  

“I often think that the first time you expressed your affection for me was when you handed me those flowers at our picnic.  And if not then, certainly when we were dancing and you gave your elegant speech about being bereft without me.”  

“Well, those were one-sided, were they not?”  

“No.  Certainly not at the ball!  I was quite overcome with the strength of my feelings.” 

“Is that so?” 

“I have already told you that.”  

“Right.  And so, as I said, this is the first place that we ,” he motioned between them as she had, “expressed our affections.”  She smiled at him and raised her palm.  

“I concede.”  

“What was that?  I’m sorry.  I didn’t hear you.” 

“I said I concede!”  

“Good.  Now, bring that recalcitrant mouth over here, wife, and kiss me.”  He leaned his head down from the hand it had been resting upon to claim her lips and gave her backside a small, loving smack.  Charlotte traced the line from the crest of his shoulder to the tip of his middle finger before interlacing all of his fingers with her own.  There was a force in their hands.  It wasn’t a battle, really.  It was more a negotiation, or perhaps a co-navigation.  They both knew where they were headed.  After two weeks, they had enough repertory to have choices in how to get there, even without speaking.  Lying on their sides before the fire, Alexander released their hands and planted his firmly in the small of her back.  His palm was cool in the spot that had been warmed by the fire.  He used his leg over her thigh to pull her even more tightly to him.  Charlotte ran her finger down his arm again, faster than the first time, and pulled on his forearm to release his palm from her back.  Interlacing their fingers again, she pushed in the other direction, throwing the weight of his arm and shoulder behind him and forcing him to roll.  His knee was still wrapped behind her and as soon as his bottom leg was released from its trap against the floor, he wrapped it around her as well.  Now, Charlotte was stretched at length upon him, wrapped in the cocoon of his arms and legs that were pulling every inch of her body tightly against his own.  His hands were firm but tender in their grasp as he ran them up and down her back.  He pulled her so tightly to him that she could scarcely breathe.  The steady thrumming of his heart echoed in her ear.  She heard his voice more in his chest than from his mouth.  

“Fathomless.”  

Charlotte managed to slide enough in his arms to respond by uniting their bodies.  It seemed slow and languid was the choice.  And so it was.  

When they had finished Charlotte snuggled into him once more.  “We should go upstairs.” 

“Must we?”

Her reply was to wiggle even closer and fall asleep.    

***

Eleanor Wheatley heard giggling in the foyer.  She found two maids pointing through a crack in the parlour doors, in a close huddle.  She looked past them to see two pairs of entangled legs on a blanket in front of the fire, and Alexander’s lily-white backside peeking through the legs of the settee.  Not wishing to wake the occupants of the drawing room, she adopted her harshest whisper. 

“Ladies!”  The maids turned to her with wide eyes.  “I wish to remind you that discretion is an important part of your job.  Now, go and tend to the fires in the study and in the kitchen.”  She stepped through the doorway, pulled the doors closed behind her, and cleared her throat.  “Mr. Colbourne.”  The room’s occupants did not stir.  She did not wish to make her voice any louder so she stepped closer to the sleeping couple.  “Mr. Colbourne.”  

She heard the front door flying open and rushed to lock the drawing room doors.  

“Leo!”  Samuel’s voice.  “It is early, Leo.  Our drivers made excellent time overnight.  Your Papa and Mama may still be sleeping.  You will need to wait.”

Mrs. Wheatley, uncharacteristically, resorted to extreme measures.  She picked up a pillow from the settee and threw it at his head.  “Alexander!  Unless you wish your daughter to experience the same view I am currently, you’d best get up!”  

Alexander’s eyes finally popped open, his face immediately red with embarrassment.  As his witts awakened he realised that Charlotte remained sleeping in a puddle of slobber on his chest.  Luckily she was rolled in such a way that her modesty was maintained.  He pulled the blankets over her quickly.  “What was that, Mrs. Wheatley?” he managed to say. 

“I said that your guests have arrived and unless you wish your daughter to see you in your current state, you’d best get yourselves back upstairs.”  

He heard Samuel’s voice in the foyer. The urgency of the situation finally hit him.

Mrs. Wheatley quickly offered a solution.  “Go out the side door and down the servant’s stairs to the kitchen and then up the backstairs to your room.”  She stepped out into the foyer, closing the doors behind her.

“Charlotte.”  Alexander jostled his wife.  “Charlotte, Love, we must rise.  The girls are here and Mrs. Wheatley will only be able to contain Leo for a finite amount of time.”

“What?”  She rolled and stretched like a cat.  She looked around.  “It is morning?”  

“Not only is it morning, but the family and our guest have arrived!  We must make haste.  He stood, tossed her shift at her and grabbed his trousers, forgoing his undergarments.  He wrapped Charlotte in a blanket for modesty and indicated for her to be quiet as he took her hand to lead her down the servants’ stair.  As they approached the kitchen, they heard Leo’s voice and stopped dead. 

“Mrs. Paisley, those biscuits smell lovely and I am really very hungry.”  

“Shit,” she heard Alexander curse under his breath.  They turned and ascended from whence they had come.  Mrs. Wheatley was in the parlour, cleaning the clothing, blankets and pillows so as to leave no evidence behind.  

“Why are you still here?”  She snapped. 

“We were about to enter the Kitchen, but we heard Leo speaking with Mrs. Paisley!” Charlotte was urgently whispering.  Mrs. Wheatley rolled her eyes.

“Wait here.”  She whispered, pulling Alexander’s shirt from the pile she had collected and tossing it to him.  She exited through a barely-opened door.  “Mr. Samuel.  Welcome home.”  

“Mrs. Wheatley, this is Mr. Stringer, our guest and architect from London.”  

“Mr. Stringer.  We have your rooms prepared.  Would you gentlemen prefer some refreshment after your journey?”  

“That would be lovely, Mrs. Wheatley.” 

“You are a bit earlier than we expected, Mr. Samuel.  I’m afraid that the fires in the drawing room have not yet been lit, sir.  However, the maids have completed the preparations in the study.  Perhaps you might take your refreshments there?”  

Samuel looked at her suspiciously.  Granted, he had been away from Heyrick for a long time, but he had never known Eleanor Wheatley to do something as improper as greeting a guest with laundry in her arms.  Something was amiss.  What?  “Speaking of my brother’s study, how is it that he is not here to greet us?”  

“He and Mrs. Colbourne have not yet arisen.  Your arrival is a bit ahead of schedule after all.  I will tell him where to find you.”  

Samuel decided to play along.  For now.  “Mr. Stringer, please.”  He  motioned with his hand down the hall toward the study.  Mrs. Wheatley quickly dispensed with the laundry and disappeared to the kitchens.  Thankfully, Miss Colbourne was still there.  

“It seems to me that you need a proper breakfast, Miss Colbourne, after your travels.”  She spoke as she was preparing the tea.  “Why don’t you sit here at the table and Mrs. Paisley will make you some eggs and then, you may have two of the biscuits.”  Leonora nodded vigorously in acceptance.  Good , Mrs. Wheatley thought.  That should keep her occupied .  She hastened to the study with the tea and biscuits for Samuel and Mr. Stringer. Upon her exit, she was careful to close the door behind her.  She looked both ways in the hall.  Everything was clear.  She opened the door to the drawing room and quickly ushered the lovers to the stairs.   

Charlotte clasped her blanket closed at her shoulders with one hand.  It trailed behind her like the train of an evening gown.  She could barely keep up with Alexander as he pulled her up the stairs and down the hallway by her other hand.  Also just like an evening gown, it got twisted amongst her legs when she walked and she stumbled forward, unclasping her hand to catch herself.  Thus, she found herself on her knees and one arm, the other still extended and pulled by Alexander.  In the next moment she was scooped into his arms as he ran down the hall with his precious cargo, leaving the blanket behind.  They nearly ran headlong into Susan.  For a moment they stood, wide-eyed as two children caught stealing from the cookie jar.  Then, it dawned on them that it was Susan, and she would be the last to pass judgement.  At that point, they could not contain their laughter as Alexander lowered her to the floor once more and they ran the remaining distance to their room hand in hand.  

Susan picked the blanket up from the floor and folded it, setting it at the foot of the bed in her room.  “The honeymoon continues, I see.”  She smiled and then joined the men for tea in the now-prepared drawing room.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Samuel entered the rose-coloured guest room that was designated as Susan’s, already sans waistcoat and shoes.  He tumbled backward onto the bed sideways, staring at the ceiling.  

“I believe I could sleep for three days!  Whose idea was it to take an overnight carriage anyway?”  

Susan smiled at him in the mirror as she brushed her hair.  “Yours.  And we were not to sleep.  It was Leo, remember?  And your plan worked like a charm.”  

“It was good, wasn’t it?  No long hours of incessant questioning and plenty of blissful silence.” 

“Should we inform Augusta about her quiet, lady-like snore?”  

“Absolutely not.” 

“Speaking of Augusta, I had a rather interesting conversation with her just before Mr. Stringer arrived and we began our journey.” 

“How so?”  Susan completed her ablutions at the dressing table and walked to sit beside him on the bed.  Samuel sat up.  

“I believe she was accusing me of using your kindness for my own ends.” 

Samuel smirked and leaned toward her.  “And what ends might those be, My Lady?  I fear I rather like being used by you.”  

Susan did not kiss him.  “Samuel, I am serious.  She implied that I am merely borrowing your affections so that I have a place to live until the next rich man who wishes to bed me comes along.”

“She suggested what?”  Samuel quickly turned from flirtation to indignation.

 “She is certainly old enough to understand the situation I am in, even if she does not know all of the details.”

“And she is certainly old enough to know better!”  Susan had never seen his face quite so severe. “When was this conversation?  Perhaps accusation is a more proper term.”  

“Yesterday, before we departed.  She was quite curt, actually.  It was rather disturbing.”

“Why did you not tell me?” 

“This is the first moment alone we have had!  I certainly wasn’t going to say anything in the carriage in front of Leo and Mr. Stringer.”  

“I will speak with her in the morning.  She owes you an apology.  And has earned herself a rather severe punishment.”  

“No, please.  I believe we should speak with Charlotte and Alexander first.  I can’t help but think that there must be a reason for her behaviour.”

Samuel laid back once again on the bed, this time taking her with him, pulling her close, and kissing her brow.  “Don’t believe for a moment that what she said has any basis in fact.”  He rolled on his side and encouraged her to look at him.  “You know that I love you for exactly who you are.” He kissed the end of her nose.  

“Yes.  I know.  And I feel the same, of course, but I could never be accused of such behaviour if we were married.”

“Susan?”  

“Everyone would know that I chose you and that it was for love.”  

“Susan?” His voice grew more suspicious the second time.  

“And you are resolved to take on Mr. Gildenwalter’s practice here in Sanditon, are you not?  So if your clients in London dwindle it will not have so much of an impact on our financial well-being.”  

“Susan!”  Samuel felt he was suddenly in a daze.  His voice was merely urgent, but seemed loud with their faces so close.  He narrowed his eyes at her with a sly smile.  “Are you proposing marriage to me?”

“Yes.”  

“You are sure?  You will be stripped of your title.” 

“I know.  What does it really mean anyway?  This is my life now, and I am the happiest I have ever been.  I would prefer the world to know that.”

Samuel pulled her as tightly to him as he could and kissed her soundly.  “You are astounding.”  He kissed her again.  “Licence or Banns?” 

“I would like to say banns, because I want everyone at St. George’s to hear of it and spread the word far and wide.”  Samuel beamed with pride at her declaration.  “However, continuing to keep a discreet profile seems in order.”  

“Agreed.  Shall I visit the good Reverend Hankins’ tomorrow?”  

“Yes.  And we shall wed with family only next week.  Now-”  Susan reached down with her hand to fondle all of him that was there for the grasping.  She began unbuttoning his trousers.  “Might you consider allowing me to demonstrate with absolute certainty the depth of my love?”

“I am all yours, my Lady.”   

***

Augusta stood in the parlour, where three drawings lay open-faced on the round breakfast table.  They were similar in style and size, and yet each had a unique shape and functionality.  She stood, studying them.  They were drawn quite beautifully, with attention to the smallest detail.

“Do you have a favourite among them?” Mr. Stringer’s voice startled her so early in the morning.  

“If I were choosing on the basis of the façade alone, and were it to be a building in town or in London, I believe I would choose this one.”  She pointed to the rectangular façade with five windows across the top and an ornate, Greek-inspired portico.  “But for this site, I believe I would choose the square home for functionality.  That shape facilitates more windows on all sides of the house, which allows residents to move with the sun throughout their daily tasks.  For ladies this often means dressing, reading, embroidery, and writing correspondence, all of which are impacted by the availability of daylight.”  

“That is an insightful perspective, Miss Markham.  Thank you.  I’ve not met many ladies with opinions on architecture.  Only one, in fact.” 

“One?”  

“Your Aunt Charlotte.”   

“I see.  Well, now you have met two.  My father was a keen observer of the changes in London.  New buildings everywhere.  He often offered commentary as we walked about town.”  Her voice took on something of a wistful tone.  She so rarely spoke of her parents.  She was not sure why she was comfortable doing so now.  “He was a particular fan of crescent apartment facades.  He said it made it easy for everyone to see the comings and goings in the street.”  

“So that is where your architectural practicality comes from?”  

“Yes.” Augusta smiled wistfully.  “It is one of the reasons he adored Bath.  When I was a child and we visited during the season, I would walk the Crescent with him every day.  I went with Uncle and Leo in August.  It was nice to walk there again.”  She took a breath.  This was the first time she had spoken of her father without tears since his death.  Feeling the threat of said tears appearing, she darted wayward.   “And Uncle Alex’s library has several books on architecture.  Well, he has at least one on most subjects.  Except farming. He may have a hundred of those! It is something we have in common, I suppose–voracious reading.”

“I am a reader myself.  I’ve had to be.  My father, God rest his soul, pulled me from school to learn masonry as soon as I was able to ascend a ladder.  But I did not want to stop learning.  Mr. Tyler was very kind and allowed me to join the subscription library at half the cost and helped me to keep the secret from my father.  

“Your father did not want you to become educated?” 

“He was of the opinion that if masonry was good enough for him, it should be good enough for me.  Any time he saw me reading or drawing late into the evening he'd say ‘Waste of a candle, that is! Stone masonry’ll carry you where you need to go.  Some day, you may even be foreman.’  To him, that was as high as his boy ought to aim.”  

“But you clearly aimed higher, Mr. Stringer.  Walking on the streets of London, I thought you a gentleman until I learned otherwise.”  The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to realise how insulting they were.  She quickly tried to correct herself.  “I did not mean to…I mean…you are gentlemanly, Mr. Stringer, in your manners, and thus I had no suspicions of your birth.”  Not much better.  She sighed.  “I have insulted you.  My apologies.  It was not my intention.”  

Stringer chuckled.  “It is alright, Miss Markham.  I understand your meaning.  I believe there was a compliment in there somewhere.”

“Yes.”  Augusta looked shyly through her lashes, then turned and pretended to examine the drawings in more detail.  Charlotte and Susan entered and saved her any further embarrassment.  

“Good morning, James.  How are you this morning?” Charlotte smiled and stretched her hands to greet him.    

“Very well, thank you.  I must admit that I am not used to such luxurious accommodations.  I slept like a baby.”  

“I am glad to hear it.  Have you yet broken your fast?”  

“No.  Not yet.”  He answered.  Meanwhile, Augusta was looking at the floor.  Charlotte thought it strange for her not to make eye contact.  Very strange.  

“Augusta, have you not offered Mr. Stringer refreshment?”  Charlotte asked, knowing how her niece enjoyed serving as hostess.  

Augusta looked up to answer, avoiding Susan’s eye.  “Mrs. Wheatley has informed me that we shall all have breakfast in the dining room together.  We were simply awaiting your arrival.  Uncle Alex and Uncle Samuel are in the study.”

“Very well then,”  Susan broke the awkwardness.  “We shall go and fetch them.”  Susan took Charlotte’s hand and led her to the study, seizing the opportunity for the Uncles and Aunts to speak.  

Augusta breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the window.    

“Will you walk with us to the site today?”  Stringer inquired.  “You have given your opinion of the façade for the building.  I invite your opinions about its orientation to the natural surroundings as well.”  

“I should like that very much.  Thank you Mr. Stringer.” 

“The pleasure will be mine, I am sure.”  

“Shall we go to breakfast then?”  Augusta asked, rather formally.  

“After you.”  He almost extended his elbow, but caught himself.  Why did it feel natural to do so?  Somehow this grand house was making him feel more stately and refined.  Instead, he motioned with his arm for her to exit first, noticing her gate and the brushing of her hair on her shoulders as she passed.   

***

“You are quite and well distracted, Brother.”  

“Excuse me?” Xander replied.   

“Is it because Charlotte is in the other room and you’ve not been a moment apart for two weeks, or because she is in another room with a man who was clearly once in love with her?”

“She visited Georgiana and Mary in town on two occasions and what do you mean?  Mr. Stringer?”  

“Yes.  He had quite a few stories of ‘Charlotte this’ and ‘Charlotte that’ on the ride here.  There is no doubt that he was once quite smitten.”

Alexander continued to stare at the contracts in his hand, failing to read any further than he had before.  It is fine.  Charlotte is faithful and constant and I have nothing to fear .  “Everything seems to be in order, Sam.  Thank you for your diligence in this regard.  Shall we forward the documents to Mr. Gildenwalter?”  

“I am to visit him on Monday to discuss the transition of the practice.  I will take these documents with me.”  

“Excellent.”  

Sam raised his glass toward his brother.  “You’ve nothing to fear, brother.” 

“Samuel.”  Alexander groaned his brother's name.  “Leave it be, please.” 

“Yes, yes. Fine.”   

The lady in question entered the room after a gentle knock.  “Xander?”  

Alexander quickly set the documents on his desk and covered the room in three strides to greet her.  He kissed her cheek.  He wanted to wrap his arms around her waist, but settled for keeping hold of her hand in company.  “You fell asleep again this morning.  I thought you might need rest, since you may be sleeping for two, so I did not wake you when I descended.”  

Charlotte smiled and tried very hard to ignore the fact that he had just given away their news to Samuel and Susan.  “The extra hour did me good.  Thank you.”  He brushed a curl behind her ear and held the tip in his fingers.  

“I’m glad.”  

They turned to see Samuel and Susan grinning wildly.  Charlotte ploughed forward.  “We are all to have breakfast in the dining room, I am told.”  

“A formal breakfast at Heyrick?” Samuel wondered.  “When was the last time that occurred?”  

“Before Mother died, I imagine.”  Alexander replied.  “Which means not in my lifetime.”  Alexander offered Charlotte an escort arm but Samuel stopped them.  He whispered for Susan to close the door.  

“Before breakfast, there are two things Susan and I wish to discuss with both of you.” 

“Oh?”

Samuel reached for Susan’s hand.  “First, this fine lady has requested my hand in marriage and I have accepted.”  Charlotte immediately darted forward to her dear friend with her arms stretched in an embrace.  “We shall be married whatever day next week the good Reverend can accommodate us, no announcement, and family only at the ceremony.”  

Alexander smiled at his brother with a nod of approval more akin to an older brother than a younger.  Perhaps Samuel was growing up after all.     

“Congratulations, Brother.”  He turned to Susan.  “I would congratulate you as well, My Lady, but I believe it would be more gentlemanly of me to take you to the physician to have your head examined.”  Charlotte and Susan rolled their eyes at one another. 

“What was the second thing?”  Charlotte asked.  

“Ah.  That is a more delicate matter.  It seems that Augusta has some unfounded suspicions about Susan’s behaviour toward me.  She expressed them in quite an inappropriate manner just before we departed London.” 

“I hope you put her in her place, in loco parentis ,” Alexander offered.  

“I would have, mind you, but I was not there.  Susan only told me last night.”  

“Susan?”  Charlotte asked.  “What did she say to you?”  

“We attended two balls in London and she heard the gossip, of course.  She knows my relationship with our Sovereign has ended and that I have lost my place in society. She accused me of using Samuel’s affections for my own ends  – biding my time until a wealthier man decides he wants me.  Mind, she was also quite insulting to your brother, suggesting that I would never make the choice of a ‘solicitor with limited prospects.’”      

“Those were her exact words?” Alexander asked.  

“Solicitor with limited prospects?  Yes.  The rest was merely insinuated.  I believe her exact words were that I was ‘misusing Samuel’s integrity.’”  

“Well I shall call her in here and we shall take care of it, this moment.”  Alexander raised his voice  “A-” 

“No, No!”  Susan stopped him.  “No, Alexander, please wait.”  She turned to Charlotte.  “I cannot help but think that there must be a reason.  She did not behave at all like that for the entire two weeks we were there and then suddenly, out of nowhere, she made her accusation.  Being back in London was not easy for her.  At every social event we attended, people kept saying how sorry they were for her and whispering the word orphan.  There must have been some meaning behind how she acted.  Surely we should try to find out before we act rashly.”  

Alexander shook his head in self admonishment.  “And that, Brother, is why we need wives.  We shall follow your lead, ladies.  Let us know what you need us to do.”  

Charlotte and Susan smiled and walked arm in arm to the dining room with the brothers close behind.  

***

Luna ran to Mr. Stringer with her stick in her mouth as they made their way across the tan fall grasses.  “Luna, you traitor!” Alexander said humorously.  Mr. Stringer threw the stick and the lurcher darted off.  

“Charlotte suggested–” Mr. Stringer looked at Alexander, “Excuse me, Mr. Colbourne.  Your wife has given me permission to call her by her Christian name, but perhaps I have offended you.”

“Well, Mr. Stringer, if you have spent any amount of time with my wife, you know that she will do what she pleases, regardless of my opinion on the matter.”  

Stringer smiled.  “That does sound like Charlotte.  You know she once played cricket with the men on the beach, substituting for Mr. Parker after he was uhm…called to other business.  How Mr. Sidney Parker passed her over for that high-society damsel is well beyond me, sir.  Crazy man.”  

Alexander smiled.  “I am inclined to agree, though I might add that I am exceedingly happy that he did.”  

“I do not doubt it.  Anyway, both Miss Markham and Charlotte suggested that sunlit mornings are important for women as they prepare for the day and that the main bedrooms should be on the eastern side of the house.  Meanwhile, your rather adept niece suggested that sitting rooms on both sides of the house to take advantage of the sun in morning and evening is advantageous for the use of natural light.  Thus, we have discussed a design that is square, rather than rectangular, to take advantage of lighting from all sides as the day progresses.”

“As usual,” Samuel interjected, “It seems that we Colbourne men might as well just leave the running of the place to the women, for they have it well in hand.”  Alexander smirked and nodded in acknowledgement.  

“As long as they are within budget, Mr. Stringer, you are to give these ladies what they wish.  It is to be their home.”  

“Excuse me.  It will be mine as well!”  Samuel feigned offence.  

“Brother, we both know that you are going to agree to whatever Susan wishes.”  

Mr. Stringer excused himself from the conversation.  “Well, perhaps I shall step forward to speak with the real architects, then.”  

Alexander and Samuel slowed their pace, watching the group in front of them.  Leonora was running through the grasses with Luna, plucking a late season daisy now and again and handing it to Charlotte.  Augusta, Susan, and Charlotte walked three astride, hands gathering their skirts in the tall grass.  Charlotte had one of the mares, loaded with picnic items, on a long lead behind them – part of her own plan with Mrs. Wheatley for their family day.  

“Are we not the luckiest men alive, at this moment, brother?”  

“I believe we may be.”  Alexander sighed.  “She is astounding, Samuel, in more ways than I ever imagined.”  Alexander had not intended the statement to be an entendre, but, of course his brother interpreted it that way.  

“That good, eh?”  

Alexander responded with his eyebrows raised and his tongue in his cheek.  “I am not answering that question.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”  

***

Mr. Stringer stepped up to the group in front of him.  “Ladies I am told you are the true architects of this project and my discussions should occur with you.”  Charlotte and Augusta parted slightly to allow him to move up between them.   

“We are now about where we will get a first view of the building location, Mr. Stringer.”  Augusta pointed.  “Do you see that grove of trees straight ahead?” 

“Yes.” 

“I believe the piece of land designated for the purpose is just beyond that grove.”  

Mr. Stringer looked at the sun and then at his pocket watch.  “Ah, yes.  I see what you mean.  We can either choose to place the house on this side of the grove to provide shelter from the sun and the storms of the sea, or choose to put it on the cliff side of the grove, to receive the natural light and breezes.”  

“Yes.  Sadly, it cannot be both.  The shade which would offer cooling in summer sacrifices the natural light and the cover from storms that the grove offers blocks the breeze when it is wanted.”  

“We could build on the cliff side and include exterior shutters for glass protection.”  

“Would exterior shutters not make it look provincial?”

“Well, France is just across the water.”  

Susan and Charlotte looked at one another and smiled.  Their two companions were so involved in volleying ideas and quips to one another that they did not seem to notice their company at all.  They quietly slowed their steps to allow the men to catch them and watched as Augusta and James Stringer continued to walk ahead.  Samuel was attuned to the smiles on their faces. 

“I fear, brother, that these two ladies are up to something.”  

“What makes you say that, my dear?”  Susan asked innocently.

“The smile on your faces, of course, and the sparkle in your eyes.”  He gave her a quick peck on the cheek as he took her hand.    

“I believe, gentlemen, that your niece may have found a match.”  

“No.”  Alexander said firmly.  “She is only just returning to herself after her ordeal in Falmouth.”  

“We cannot control who we fall in love with, Alexander.  Surely you of all people are aware of that!”  Susan offered.   

“Charlotte?” Alexander said her name as if to ask, Help me, here .   

“While I agree that it is not ideal timing for Augusta to be considering a suitor, I am also quite sure that James is keenly aware of the complications such a situation would present, given their differing status.  However, I can also assure you that there is not a more respectful man in all of England.  James Stringer is the son of a stone mason who is making his way through the world with talent and determination.  I know that both of you would agree with me that ambition, especially when tempered by civility, is something to be admired.  You’ve nothing to fear, Alexander, even if they do form an attachment.”

“Why did you not marry him, then?”  Alexander did a very poor job of hiding the jealousy beginning to roil within him. 

“Well that is simple.  I did not love him.  I was in love with Sidney.”  

Alexander took a deep breath, still in wonder at how Charlotte could have loved a man so different from himself.   

“Jealousy does not become you, my love.”  She leaned in to whisper to him.  “And should you doubt my love for any reason, just think on what I was doing to you in our bed last evening and know that you are the only man to whom I have ever or will ever do such a thing and see if that does not bring a cure to your affliction.”  She clicked to the mare.  “Come on, girl.  This way, come on.”  She and Susan headed to the grove of trees to set up the picnic.  

Samuel patted his brother’s shoulder as he moved to follow Charlotte and Susan.  “Astounding, you say?” He spun to walk backward and continued looking at his brother.  “I believe you.”  He turned back and jogged to catch the ladies.  

***

Alexander entered the bedroom and moved to the wardrobe to hang his waistcoat.  He turned to his wife, sitting at her table.  “I am sorry, Charlotte, for my behaviour earlier today.  I do not doubt your love.  I’m not sure what came over me.”

“Well, given what happened in your first marriage, it is understandable, if inconvenient.”  

He enveloped her from behind and kissed her neck.  “Do you really think that Mr. Stringer has his eye on Augusta.”

“I think that they are quite taken with one another, that he has no intention of the sort, but that neither of them may be in control of the situation.”

“Their hearts will do what they wish, regardless of what their minds have to say about it?”  

Charlotte turned to face him.  “I believe you know the feeling.”  Alexander bent and put a hand under her knees, kissing her as he carried her to bed.  

“Indeed I do, Mrs. Colbourne.  Indeed I do.”  He set her onto the bed and laid beside her, placing a hand on her abdomen.  “Any developments today?”  

“None.”  

“Is that a good thing?” 

“It is if we are hoping for a child.”

“Two months ago I was in Bath, trying, quite unsuccessfully I might add, to banish you from my heart.  Now, we may be expecting a child.  It is unfathomable.  I do not believe it.  I am going to wake from this dream at some point and realise that none of it is real.  For goodness sake, I went on a picnic today, with my entire family, to examine the site for a second house on the property.  It is madness!”    

Charlotte leaned on one hand and slid the other into the opening of his shirt, gently running her fingers through the hairs on his chest.  “It is not madness, Alexander Colbourne, it is your life.  Our life.  And I am your wife.”  She leaned down to kiss him.  “And I am yours.  All yours. Forever.”  

Alexander rolled her over immediately, pulled off his shirt, and claimed what was his.  

***

The following morning, the entire family, and their guest, were once again gathered in the dining room for breakfast.  A plate of poached eggs was placed in front of the group.  

“Mrs. Wheatley, please thank Mrs. Paisley for the eggs.”  Alexander looked devilishly at Charlotte.  “Poached is my favourite.”  Charlotte stifled a giggle with a bite of toast.  

“So,” Charlotte changed the subject, “What is everyone up to today?”  

“I wondered, if it is amenable, if I might use the large round table in the parlour to draft the interior drawings and building scales.”  

“Of course, Mr. Stringer.”  Alexander answered.  “Let us know what you need and we shall do our best to provide.” 

“Thank you, sir.”  

Augusta spoke up.  “Mr. Stringer has kindly agreed to use the occasion to help me with my skills in scaled drawing.”  

James spoke up immediately after, not wanting Mr. Colbourne to think him forward.  “Agreed, not offered, might I add.”  

“Are you keen to learn more about architecture, Augusta?”  Charlotte asked.  The word architecture might as well have been replaced with Mr. Stringer’s name in her sentence.  

“Yes!  I find it most fascinating how a design can go from a mental image, to paper, to reality.  In many ways, I suppose it is like embroidery.  Technical excellence brings the art to life.  Only, architecture is of far more consequence, of course.”  She added under her breath to Susan sitting beside her, “As most activities for men are.”  Susan smiled into her potatoes.  The young lady was clearly smitten, both with the concept of architecture and with Mr. Stringer.

“I will be here while Samuel meets with Mr. Gildenwalter.  I am happy to chaperone, Alexander, if that is your concern.”  

Alexander silently breathed a sigh of relief but tried not to show it.  “I’ve no fear in that regard when it comes to Augusta.  She is plenty capable of handling herself.”  Charlotte glowed at him.  Augusta had a satisfied, if shocked, smile.  Alexander swallowed hard and wiped his lips, feeling as if a stranger had possessed him with the statement.  He knew it was the right thing.  It was still difficult.  “Are you ready to visit the western lands today, Charlotte, as we did the east on Friday?”  

“Yes.”  They stood and exited quickly, escape on their minds, already hand in hand as soon as they were through the doorway of the dining room.     

“Uncle Samuel, might you consider letting me return with you to London?  I am not sure I can live with…..with that .”  She pointed her fork at the doorway.  

Samuel smiled.  Susan answered.  “Your day is coming, my dear.  Your day is coming.” 

They finished their breakfast in silence.        

*** (E)

Charlotte and Alexander saddled Hannibal and Perses with deft, eager fingers.  Alexander did not even ask her before taking off at a gallop from the stables, knowing she would be on his heels.  She followed him intently, watching the lay of the land carefully as they were on unfamiliar ground.  Alexander pulled up among a large, dark grove of trees.  The leaves were beautiful shades of orange, yellow, and russet reds and tumbled to the ground like rainfall around them.  He did not wait for Charlotte to swing her leg over her horse, instead grabbing her by the waist as she alighted and kissing her immediately.  They toddled together under cover, grabbing and circling one another like predator and prey.  Alexander began unfastening her dress.  

“No,” she said, barely getting the sound out for the pressure of their lips.  “Not fast enough.”  She pushed him against a tree, unbuttoned his trousers, and pressured his shoulders downward, ordering him to sit against the trunk.  She heaved her skirts around her waist, sat, and grinded herself against him.  He was amazingly alive for a man who had just dismounted a horse.  He responded by sliding his hands under her thighs and hoisting her higher.  As she slid down his front, he slipped inside of her.  From that moment, she rocked her hips against him incessantly, taking every ounce of pleasure she could from him, knowing that he would also take what he wanted and may not wait for her pleasure to take his own.  He gripped her with his forearms across her shoulder blades, forcing her downward by the shoulders harder and deeper with each thrust.  She climbed her mountain with blazing speed, urging him forward with her.  They were united in ecstasy, but concurrently neither of them cared for the other, each focused only on taking what they wanted until they both ended in unguarded, inarticulate cries of bliss.   

Neither lover was capable of speaking nor quite ready to descend from their simultaneous pinnacles.  The tension in their muscles was like a spring stretched to its limit and was palpable to them both.  They continued to paw and dig at one another as their breathing came once again under control.  

“Did we just?” He was gripping her face, fingers splayed as claws upon her ears and cheeks and lips.  

“Together.”  She ran her teeth along the edge of his thumb as her eyes rolled back in her head.  

“Yes?”  He bit her lower lip.

“Yes.”  She confirmed, biting at the stubble on his chin.  

“I did not even know that could happen.”  He moved once more against her, sending a shiver through her.    

“Apparently, it can.”  Her consciousness of him was slowly returning, and his of her.  He was beginning to soften inside her but he did not wish to depart.  They continued to rock gently back and forth, neither willing to give up the sensations they adored even though both were sated.  She was holding his head now, clinging to him with fingers in hair.  He in turn was gently kissing her neck and shoulders and the exposed parts of her breasts as he needled her fichu out of the way with his nose.

“Isn’t the gentle kissing supposed to happen before we come apart?”    

“Are you accusing me of doing this backward, my love?  

She nodded and giggled.  He pushed forward and landed her on her back in the leaves.  His hand was immediately on her thigh.  The smell of her moisture wafted as he raised her skirts once more.  “Well, I seem to recall someone telling me I was moving too slowly.  Who might that have been, hmm?”  Charlotte writhed beneath his touch.  

“I have no idea what you..mean.”  Her last word departed her mouth as a moan.  

“Really?  No idea?” 

“None whatsoever.”  She tilted her pelvis against him, increasing the friction between moist skin and hand.  He swirled his fingers, pinching and pushing and probing and she sighed with delight.  

“There is no sight in this world finer than watching you come apart and knowing I am the cause.”

He continued, flattening his fingers to increase the pressure in the spot he had learned she preferred the most.  Charlotte, meanwhile, had fallen silent.  Perhaps she was truly satiated by their quick encounter.  “Charlotte,” he whispered as he bent to kiss her, “Are you resisting?”  

“Once again, I have no idea what you mean.”  

He continued teasing her, brushing his nose in her cheek.  “You are!  Why?” 

She shook her head and pursed her lips at him, smiling as he revelled in the power he had over her at that moment.  She tried to return his hand to where she wanted it.  He resisted.  “Uh, uh.  Tell me.”  

“Tell you what?” 

“Tell me why you are resisting coming apart in my hands.”  

“I am not resisting,”  she said shyly, “I am merely delaying.”

“Delaying?  Why?”  

She was very quiet.  “Because I am enjoying it.”  

“I’m sorry, what was that?”  He’d only meant to playfully tease her but she looked as if he had scolded her.    

She finally raised her voice.  “Because I am enjoying it and I don’t want it to end.”  She raised her hand to touch his face.  

“I get the distinct impression that you are not only speaking about this encounter.”  

“Soon I will be plump and round and what we just did will not be possible.  Then, milk will be pouring from my breasts and you won’t even want to kiss them anymore.  And who knows if it will even feel the same after my body has torn itself apart and stretched around something the size of a melon!”

“Charlotte, your parents have twelve children.” 

“And?” 

“Is that not evidence enough that marital relations continue after the first child.”  

“Yes, but just because they continue doesn’t mean…doesn’t mean…”  She faltered.  

“Doesn’t mean that it will be the same?”  

She nodded as tears began to roll down her cheeks.  “I adore this part of our married life.  I don’t want it to change.”  

“Of course it will change.  It has changed already in only two and a half weeks!  We certainly wouldn’t have been doing what we just did in those first days!”  She smiled at him. “Charlotte, where is this coming from?  Minutes ago you were taking your pleasure from me seemingly without a care for anything other than your own satisfaction, and now you are crying in my arms.”  He tried to pull her close, but she resisted, placing his hand where she desired once more.

 “Please don’t stop,” she begged quietly. 

“If that is what you truly want.” She bit her bottom lip.  “Charlotte?  Is there more you wish to request of me?”  

“I did not want to ask.”  

“Charlotte.”  He did not cease the attention of his hand, but made sure they had eye contact to know that she was hearing him.  “You can always ask.  You can ask for anything you wish, in this or any other part of our lives, and if it is within my power to grant it, I will.”

She motioned with a curling finger for him to come closer.  “Use your tongue, please,” she whispered.  

“Gladly.”  He kissed her soundly before retreating to the opposite end of her body.  As he trailed his lips up her thigh and she felt her wantonness rise once again within her, he said, “Charlotte.  The shape and size of you may change, as you grow and deliver our precious Colbournes into this world, but this,” he kissed her favourite spot, “will never change.”  He slipped a finger into her, increasing the pressure against his tongue from the inside.  “And when we are old and grey and our children are long gone from this house, you may still make the same request of me and I will still reply with ‘gladly.’”  He sucked harder then, urging her forward.  Charlotte peered at the swirling leaves until she found herself swirling with them, round and round and round in a whirlpool of feeling and desire.  Her legs stiffened and she twitched as she cried his name and came undone.  Then, she called him up beside her, tucked herself into his side and they watched the leaves fall around them.  She was asleep in moments. 

There were no rounds on that day.  Alexander lifted her, soundly asleep onto Perses and sat behind her.  With a gentle stride, Perses returned home and he clicked to Hannibal to follow.  He delivered Hannibal to the stables and rode to the front of the house.  Mrs. Wheatley stepped outside.  

“Mr. Colbourne?”

He motioned with his finger for her to quiet her voice.  He carefully held Charlotte in place as he dismounted to the step, then slipped her off of the horse and into his arms.  

“What happened to Mrs. Colbourne?” Mrs. Wheatley asked in a whisper.  “Do I need to fetch the doctor?”  

“Nothing is amiss, Mrs. Wheatley.  Mrs. Colbourne is simply exhausted from the difficult work of growing a life.  I am just going to carry her upstairs.  Could you please go inside and ensure Leo stays quiet.”  

Mrs. Wheatley’s eyes glistened as she said, “Sir,” and turned to find the soon-to-be big sister.  

Two hours later, Charlotte awoke to find her husband sitting next to her in their bed, reading.  “Alexander?”  she questioned as she stretched.  She took in her surroundings.  “How did I get here?” 

“Well, after our liaison in the woods, you fell asleep.  I stood you upon your feet and you still did not wake.  Honestly, it was like carrying Leo when she was a baby.  You were absolutely unwakeable.  So, I loaded you onto Perses, with Hannibal trailing behind us, and brought you home.  You stirred a few times and said sweet things to me in your sleep, but you did not wake the entire time.”  

“Did you finish rounds?” 

“Why would I do that when I can sit here and watch my beautiful wife grow our child?”  

“Alexander!  You cannot tell from the outside.”  

He smirked.  “I know, but you are still beautiful to behold.  I love watching you sleep.”  He set the book on the side table and lowered himself beside her.  She slid over and nestled into him.  

“You are going to be watching me like a hawk, aren’t you?” 

“Yup.” 

She sighed, opting not to fight his overprotectiveness at the moment.  “What did I say?  In my sleep.”  

“Well, there were some mutterings that seemed to be directed toward Leo and one of your brothers, which I could not completely make out.  And there were some quite adorable little snores and some drooling involved.”  He kissed her head.  “But at one point you lifted your head and barely opened your eyes before nestling into my shoulder and saying ‘I am proud that this baby is yours.’” She looked up at him and he captured her lips with a tender reverence.  “I love you, Charlotte.”  Then, he slid down the bed and kissed her abdomen.  “And you, too, Little Colbourne.” 

Chapter Text

Otis Molyneaux awoke and stretched to pull his sweet Georgiana closer to him.  He loved filling the first breaths he took each day with the smell of the oils she put into her hair each evening before bed.  On this morning, he found only an imprint in the sheets where she had been.  Then, he heard a distant retching from the front room. He let out a sigh.