A/N: Hi, all. This is the last chapter before the epilogue. Hope you've enjoyed the ride, and if so, please feel free to leave a review.

Sam woke gently, cradled in warmth. She blinked against the haze covering her eyes and realized it hadn't been just a wonderfully delicious dream. From what she could sense, the storm from the previous night had abated but the sky remained covered, keeping the bedroom shrouded in darkness with only a faint light coming through the windows. Feeling a cool breeze on her bare shoulder, she guessed that Christopher, in the wee hours of the morning, had opened the window to let in the cool breeze after the rainstorm. Still, she didn't feel cold; instead, she lay on her side, facing him, her hands enfolded within each other and tucked against her chest, her legs tangled with his, and he had one arm wrapped around her with the other cradling her head. She'd never felt as safe or as loved as she did in that moment. She peeked up toward his face to see if he was awake but a shiny glint caught her eye and diverted her attention to her hands. Her eyes misted over as she gazed upon the ring, the diamond glinting in the faint light filtering in from the window. She didn't wonder how it got there; it was obvious the dear man had placed it on her hand sometime while she slept.

Finally, she gazed up to his face and met his intense, questioning gaze.

"When did you purchase –"

"Just before the festivities in May," he answered her unfinished question, his voice husky from sleep.

She blinked against the tears welling in her brown eyes. "That long?"

He gave her a short nod then tugged her in tighter against his chest and tucked her head under his chin. "I knew from the start that I wanted to marry you, Sam. I'm not the kind to get in a relationship without expecting to marry."

He was still insecure, even after their night of lovemaking. She saw it in his eyes when he gazed down at her and heard it in the staccato his heart made in his chest. Sam needed to ease his anxiety, just as he'd tenderly erased her fears. Gently, she pushed against him until he tumbled back against his pillow. She straddled him, leaned over and, with her bare chest pressed against his, simply said, "Yes."

It took him a moment to realize what she meant, but when he did, he sat up, cupped her face with both hands, and kissed her. Evidence of his arousal prodded Sam's heated centre and it occurred to her that this was a most sublime position. A minor re-adjustment of herself in his lap aligned his body perfectly for penetration, but a noise downstairs distracted her before the deed could be done.

Christopher evidently heard it as well for he suddenly broke their kiss and glanced toward the door. Sam quickly left his lap and covered herself with a bed sheet while he got out of bed and donned his robe.

"Wait here," he whispered before peering out into the hallway. He heard a cupboard door open and close. Andrew. Stellar timing, as usual. He looked at Sam and sighed. This was not what he had planned for this morning.

Christopher quietly shuffled down the stairs and found his son rummaging in the cupboards. "Andrew."

Andrew swiveled around, startled but not completely surprised. "Sorry, Dad. Didn't mean to wake you. Seems I have the habit of it."

Christopher bit the inside of his cheek as he gave his son a curt nod. "Haven't seen or heard from you in a couple weeks. You, uh, home for long?"

Andrew took out a plate from the cooler and placed it on the counter. "I took the train down yesterday from London, but stayed at a friend's last night."

"Is that where you've been hiding out?" Christopher asked.

Andrew met his father's gaze and replied, "I haven't been hiding out. Actually, I've got a job. Uncle Charles put me to work reorganizing at the Admiralty. I'm getting a flat in London and thought I'd collect some things to take up with me."

Christopher's brow rose inquiringly. "Uncle Charles, hmm?"

Andrew was making a sandwich out of the leftovers. "Yeah, I ran into him when I was trying to find an address of a friend and he took me out for lunch." He glanced at the clock then back at his Dad and suddenly realized the late hour. "Still in bed?"

"It was… a late night," Christopher quickly supplied.

"I was thinking, if you wanted to, we could go fishing this afternoon."

Christopher started to say he had other plans, but the creaking of the ceiling boards drew both of their attentions upward. Andrew looked puzzled while Christopher cringed at the untimely cue.

Andrew's face screwed up in confusion. "Is someone staying here, Dad?"

Christopher slowly closed his eyes and bit his cheek, hard. When he opened them again, he saw dawning understanding reflected back at him in his son's eyes as they darted over his state of undress.

"Dad?" Andrew couldn't believe even his own thoughts. The boards creaking were directly over the kitchen, so whoever was up there was in his father's room. The question appeared on his face.

"A lot has happened since you've been gone, Andrew. You took off in quite a hurry."

"So you married her without even telling me?"

Christopher let out a defeated sigh and ran a hand through his ruffled hair. Damn it. He motioned for the chair and told his son, "Have a seat."

"When was the wedding?"Andrew asked as he sat down.

"Sam and I are not married… yet. She's accepted my proposal and I plan for us to marry next Saturday, if possible."

Andrew looked incredulously at his father, as if he had two heads. "Wait, so, you... she..."

This cannot be happening! "Sam's been away for a few weeks, dealing with some issues. She just returned last night."

"So she stayed here? Wait, what issues?" Andrew asked suddenly deeply concerned.

Christopher didn't know how much to tell his son, but it distracted him from asking impertinent questions. It was, however, Sam's story to tell, if she so desired. Still, it was public record that she'd been arrested for killing Henry Stevens. I can at least tell him that much. Maybe it'll distract him long enough he'll forget the other… situation.

"The night after the celebrations, Sam was arrested."

"What?" Andrew exclaimed.

"She was assaulted by a man and she killed him... before he could harm her further." Andrew shook his head in disbelief, but Christopher continued. "The situation brought up some rather disturbing memories for her. After being released, she went home to Lyminster and has been there since – until last night."

"What memories?" Andrew asked.

Christopher shook his head and said, "Sam will have to tell you, if she wants. It's her memories, her story."

"So, she returns and what… you sleep together?" Andrew asked incredulously.

"Andrew!" Christopher spoke sharply. Then the stairs creaked.

Andrew jumped to his feet. "Sam," he said in a surprised greeting.

"Andrew," she replied, crossing the threshold, fully dressed in a knit blouse, cardigan and slacks, with her hair swept back into a quick chignon. "Good morning," she greeted, eyeing Christopher cautiously, hoping he wouldn't be upset with her for ignoring his request to remain in his room. Having heard bits of the conversation from upstairs, she'd come prepared to counter Andrew's assumption that his father had spent the night with her on a whim. Not wishing to add to the tension in the room, Sam acted as though nothing was amiss and went to the stove to make tea.

She glanced back to meet her fiancé's eyes. "You should go fishing," she said, letting him know she'd heard enough of the conversation. "I have some things to sort out at my flat and you two could spend some time together."

Andrew had taken his seat again and watched the interchange between Sam and his father, who had settled back into his chair somewhat casually. He hadn't expected her to come down the stairs, and by the looks of things, neither had his father. He also hadn't expected Sam to look… well, normal. Actually, she looked almost… radiant. As for his father, Andrew didn't miss the tenderness in his eyes as he looked at Sam. He swallowed hard as he realized what he was witnessing between his ex-girlfriend and his father. This must be what love looks like. Clearing his throat, he interjected, "You could join us, too."

Sam whirled around to face him, momentarily speechless at the unexpected offer. "I, uh, I don't think so." She darted a shy glance to Christopher and said, "If we're to be married next Saturday, then I have a lot to do."

"Yes, absolutely," Christopher agreed, sounding more chipper. "And on that note, I think I'll get dressed." He stood and headed for the stairs while Sam returned to making the morning tea. With one foot on the bottom stair, Christopher turned back around and pointed at his son and then mouthed Behave before glancing meaningfully at Sam. Seeing his son roll his eyes at him confirmed that his son got the point. He went to change.

Andrew watched as Sam added leaves to the teapot, noticing how comfortable she seemed in his father's kitchen. Although he'd known they were seeing each other, he hadn't fully realized the depth of their feelings for each other. It took the shock of interrupting their morning in the sack, apparently, to understand what they'd been trying to tell him. It was difficult to accept, though he would… eventually. Sam was the same age as he and it never occurred to him that his father would ever develop feelings for someone so much younger. He'd known Sam deeply respected his father but had never guessed at her depth of feeling for the older man, never suspecting she'd harbored romantic feelings towards him even though she'd talked a lot about him.

He also knew he owed Sam an apology for his abrupt departure the last time they saw each other. He joined her at the counter, leaned against it and tried to catch her eye. Her head was down and he couldn't help but feel that she was trying to avoid eye contact. "Sam, I, uh, I owe you an apology."

She finally met his gaze and unassumingly tilted her head and asked, "For what?"

"For, um, acting like a heel the last time we talked. I guess it was just more than I could deal with."

"There's nothing to forgive, Andrew. It was perfectly understandable," she rambled. "I mean, really, you hadn't known anything had changed that much and I suppose it was quite a shock."

He eyed her studiously. "You really do love him."

"Yes, I do," she said in her matter-of-fact way. "He means everything to me. He's given me the courage to do something I wasn't sure that I could."

"And what is that?"

"To love someone like I do your father and to have that love returned in kind."

"That doesn't make sense, Sam. You are one of the most loveable persons I know, you give so freely and so effortlessly. How could you ever think you couldn't be loved?"

"That's not what I meant."

"But…" For a split second, he recalled the last time he'd kissed her and how it had felt like the very first time – chaste. His eyes darted to hers and her flushed cheeks. He understood that she'd meant more than the emotional attachment of love, but he didn't understand why. He also didn't know if he should ask after what his father had told him.

He watched her eyes drop. She chewed on her bottom lip, her attention now on the tea kettle that was about to whistle. She switched off the burner and set the kettle aside.

"Dad said you'd been arrested, that you killed a man. Is it true?"

"Hmm. Yes. Two, actually," she replied.

"Two? Wait, he said only one. When did the second one happen? And why? I mean…that is if you want to tell me."

Sam glanced toward the stairs, hoping to find Christopher had returned. She'd actually prefer it if he told his son rather than having to do it herself. She heard a creaking of the boards upstairs. She flicked a glance at Andrew. She didn't know if she should tell him or not; she didn't know if she even wanted him to know. It was enough that Christopher knew… and Milner. She glanced again in his direction out of the corner of her eyes. If she told him, she knew it would mean something more to him that she would entrust him with a secret. Besides, she was about to become part of his family.

Sam turned to sit against the counter, wrapping her arms around her. "Please know that what I'm going to tell you goes no further than here. Only my family, friends in Lyminster, Sergeant Milner and your father know of it."Andrew nodded his understanding, so she told him the whole story.

Shocked, Andrew shook his head and looked her up and down. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but he knew it wouldn't be welcomed… not from him, not now.

"After that, his family moved away from the area and I'd never heard from or seen them since. Then, a few weeks ago, his younger brother, who was stationed here with the Home Guard, saw me and recognized me. He tried to... uh… he wanted revenge. And, I defended myself."

She hugged herself tighter, giving herself a little shake before turning back to the kettle. She poured the hot water into the teapot and replaced the cover. "I really don't want to dwell on it any further, not today. I don't want to upset your father."

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"No need to be. It's done and I think we've moved past it, at least for now."

"And last night?" he asked sincerely.

She closed her eyes. "Your father wanted to propose and I wouldn't let him… not until I was sure I could be a proper wife."She opened her eyes again to find Andrew staring intently at her. "Your father is a good man, Andrew. Better than you give him credit for. He would never do anything that would hurt me."

"I know that."

"Do you? Really? Because it doesn't sound like it." She watched him struggle with what to say, but she continued, "Last night was my idea, and I had to bare my soul to get him to go against his own beliefs on the matter."

Andrew now looked as uncomfortable with himself as she thought he should. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't know."

"There's no reason you should have, but still, he is your father and you might want to keep that in mind when you go fishing later. He could use your support in this. I'm sure he's going to get enough ribbing from others for marrying his driver… his much younger driver."

"Do I have your forgiveness then?" he asked quietly.

She gave a curt nod then took the teapot, cups and saucers and set them on the table. "I think there may be a little milk in the cooler. Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'll get it."

She heard footsteps then and waited for Andrew and Christopher to join her before pouring. They sat in an uncomfortable silence a moment or two and then Andrew asked Sam about the wedding.

She darted a quick glance to Christopher. They hadn't talked about it. He shrugged and nodded for her to go ahead. He was leaving it all in her hands… except for the license, of course.

"I actually haven't given it much thought yet. I suppose…" She looked to Christopher again and continued, "I suppose my uncle could officiate and um, I could wear my mother's dress."

"What about a reception and a dance? The war is over now; it would be a bit of fun."

"Maybe. I… don't know really," she stammered, wide-eyed. "I should probably call my parents."

"I'll do that." Christopher finally interjected. "You can work out the details with your mother after I talk with your father."

She nodded and chewed a bit more on her lip while thinking about it all. It wasn't true that she hadn't given it any thought. She had… all week long before she left Lyminster, before she spent the night with Christopher and before he put the ring on her finger. She'd had it all worked out in her mind, but now he'd thrown a stick into her plans and moved it up to only a week away. She wasn't complaining, by any means. No, it was just a little quicker than she had planned. At least she knew her mother's dress would fit, since she'd tried it on the day before traveling back to Hastings. It had been done on a whim and without her mother knowing. She hadn't wanted to get her mother's hopes up.

After all the thoughts about the wedding, she started contemplating about the upcoming week. Their wedding night would not be as expected. She'd already spent the night with him. So now what?

Christopher recognized the look on Sam's face. It was the same one she had when she had the crossroads looming before her with Farnetti. What is she conjuring up in that mind of hers now, he wondered. She needed a distraction.

"Sam, why don't you get your things and while you do that, Andrew can gather the tackle and rods and I'll call your father."

Andrew was already on his feet before his father finished speaking and left the room. His departure gave them a moment alone, long enough to ask her fiancé a rather pertinent question.

"Do you want me to stay at my flat until the wedding, or should I pack the rest of my things and bring them over today?"

This wasn't just about moving in and he knew it. "Pack your things, Sam. When Andrew and I get back, we'll pick you up." He stood and held out his hand to help her stand. Once on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. "This is your home now, Sam."

It was only then that she noticed the changes he'd made, the missing pictures, vases, and trinkets that she knew had belonged to his late wife. She blinked against the tears welling in her eyes. He'd been planning to marry her for some time and she hadn't trusted in him enough to realize he would do anything to make her happy and satisfied. "I love you," she whispered as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I love you too, Sam."

After a bit of discussion, they'd decided that they would wait until Sam had gathered her things and then take her back to the house before they went fishing. She let them know, after Andrew once again asked her to join them, she really didn't want to go along. She knew better than either of them that what they needed was some father-son time. She had done the same with not only her mother but also her father this last time she was home. After finally telling her father her fears, they'd talked into the wee hours of the morning. Then during the rest of that week, Sam and her mother had spent days talking about love, marriage, babies, and even loss. Sam now had a tiny inkling of how Christopher had felt when he'd lost his wife to such a terrible illness. Each day she was away from him started to feel like an eternity and until she stepped onto the train, she couldn't get rid of the empty feeling in her stomach. It was no longer a matter of wanting to be with him, she needed to be with him.

So, when she'd finished getting the few things she'd left in her billet, and Christopher had stowed her luggage in the boot of the car, he drove her back to the house, unloaded and told her to make herself at home. He let her know she'd find room for her things in the drawers and closet in his bedroom. Then after asking her again if she was sure she didn't want to join them, he left her to it.

An hour later, Sam had finished putting her things away and had located the linens to remake the bed. She smiled fondly as she stripped the bed, remembering the night before. She pressed his pillow to her face, breathing in deeply, smelling his unique scent lingering there. She blushed as she recalled her eager responses to his hands and lips on her body and how wantonly she'd felt. It was basic – primal. He was hers and she was his. Her dreams had never been nearly as good as the real thing.

With a sigh, she set about finishing the bed and then took a mental inventory of each room of the house, noting the items she recalled from before and what was now missing. Only one picture remained hanging in the entryway, and only a few small trinkets remained. He hadn't erased Rosalind completely and Sam wouldn't want it any other way. He was who he was partly because of her and her love.

Two hours later, she heard the front door open and came from the kitchen to greet them. She was surprised to find only Christopher. Looking past him, she expected to see Andrew but the door was shut already.

"Andrew is staying with his friend again. He'll be there all week."

"Oh." She saw the twinkle in his eyes and couldn't help blushing.

He wrapped an arm around her, while cradling his fishing basket in the other. They walked to the kitchen and he showed her their catch – three good-sized trout.

"Shall we clean them and fry one for supper?" she asked.

Christopher tilted his head in consideration. "How about we invite Paul and Edith to dine out tonight?" He smiled up at her. "Perhaps a celebratory supper... for our engagement?"

"I was actually hoping we could stay in tonight. It's going to be a hectic week and it might be one of the few nights until after the wedding that we have alone, you know, with Andrew still in town." Sam had a point. "Maybe we could go out with them tomorrow night and we could invite Chief Reid and his wife as well, and it would give Edith more time to find someone to sit with Clementine. Andrew could join us as well."

Christopher appreciated her thoughtfulness and agreed. "So, what other ideas did you have for tonight, my dear?"

Sam played coy, walking to the other side of the table and folded her hands in front of her. "Why Mr. Foyle, I think you have the wrong idea."

"Do I?" he drawled. "I thought the whole idea of us staying in was so we could enjoy the time together…alone."

"Well, we could play chess," she started to say as she began moving around the table again, "or I even have a pack of cards. We could play –" Sam suddenly yelped as Christopher came around the other side of the table and caught her around the waist, capturing her with her back against his chest.

He nuzzled her neck and whispered, "Perhaps supper could wait awhile."

Sam breathlessly asked, "You're not hungry."

"Not for food."

"Oh."

Much later that evening, they lay in front of the fireplace, the flickering flames the only light in the darkened living room. Sam's head was resting on his chest, her arm wrapped around him while his fingers lightly caressed it, when she asked, "Have you thought of who you're going to have stand up with you as best man?"

"I had been thinking of Andrew, but after some thought, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Why not?" she asked, tipping her head up.

"Two reasons really. One, he's the same age as you. Secondly, you stepped out with him."

"Oh."

"Who were you thinking of standing up with you?" he queried.

"I called my friend, Margaret, but she and her husband are going up north for her brother's wedding. So I've settled on Edith, if she'll do it."

"Hmm. I could have Paul stand up with me, then."

"I like that. We could ask both of them tomorrow night when we pick them up for supper."

"Since that's settled," Christopher said, while turning on his side and easing her back onto the floor, "I think there's another matter we can take care of right now."

"Oh? What's that?"

He leaned over her, kissing her thoroughly before muttering, "My... insatiable... desire... for you."

She gulped for effect, but grinned mischievously, "Insatiable?"

He placed another full, open-mouthed kiss on her mouth, before easing himself between her legs, "Yep, and we have all night to test my theory that it will take all night to satisfy it."

TBC...