To no one's surprise, William Thatcher, shipping tycoon, was late for dinner.

It happened more often than not, and the dining room staff was well-acquainted with the process of listening for the car outside the front door and quickly setting the place at the head of the table and adjusting the rest of the company around. On the nights he didn't show up until after dinner, there was one place setting prepared and Grace would sit with him while he ate if she wasn't yet in bed.

This evening, though he knew they had family and visitors in town, and especially that his daughter Elizabeth and yet another of her Mounties had arrived under his roof after an absence of more than two years, William wasn't prepared to alter his schedule one iota. He was confident they would still be there when his work was done.

At the head of the table in William's absence, Grace Thatcher wiped the corners of her mouth delicately and picked up a small bell. Before the tone had died out, there were three servants standing around her chair.

"Thank you, Maisie," Grace said regally, as a sweet-faced girl with brown curls picked up the blue china plate with Grace's barely-eaten scallop appetizer.

Nathan looked at Elizabeth and raised his eyebrows slightly. He whispered, "So the bell-ringing runs in the family."

Elizabeth smirked at him. "Very funny." Leaning over, she said, "Allie would call that a dad joke."

Nathan looked down at the napkin that was precariously settled over the twins. He laughed softly. "Well, I do believe I'm about to be a dad. Again."

Elizabeth stretched a little in the hard, straight-backed chair. "Hopefully not tonight," Elizabeth said. She reached her hand under the table and held his, and then, of course, Nathan and Elizabeth had one of their moments.

In Hope Valley, people had gotten used to these little holidays from reality that the two of them took now and then. One of them would say something, they'd look at each other, and that was it for a short time. No conversations, no glances elsewhere, and folks knew just to take a pause and wait for them to return.

But at the Thatcher mansion in Hamilton, this was not a familiar event. So, when they both took a deep breath and their focus returned to the dinner table, everyone was staring at them. Julie and Lucas simply smiled with a twinkle in their eyes. Grace and Viola, however, sat with their foreheads furrowed and their eyes narrowed. Lionel was mostly oblivious as he buttered a slice of bread.

"Elizabeth." Grace repeated her daughter's name the way one might to a small child whose mind had wandered during lessons.

Smiling, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows and said quietly, "Yes, Mother?"

"Where on earth did you just go?" Grace said, sounding annoyed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm right here," Elizabeth said sweetly. She looked back over at Nathan, who was smiling at her softly. His eyes were very blue.

Nathan reached up and moved a wayward curl from Elizabeth's forehead, and a conversation from Airdrie came back into Elizabeth's mind.

What does that mean, when you do that with my hair? It usually means I'm thinking about how much I love you.

And he was. In the midst of all this opulence and his mild confusion about which one was the salad fork, all Nathan could think about was the treasure – the treasures – sitting next to him.

"I was saying..." Grace continued, slightly exasperated, "That Cecile Kensington will be coming for dinner with Charles on Friday evening. And they are very much looking forward to seeing you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth tilted her head. "That's wonderful. They can meet Nathan," she said pointedly.

Elizabeth had known this trip would be challenging, and she and Nathan had talked at length about it. But it was still disconcerting to sit at a dinner table and have three of its occupants – Grace, Viola and Lionel – patently ignore another member of the party. They weren't much better with Lucas, because although he had a certain charm, he had still chosen to live in the savage backwaters of Hope Valley, so there was clearly a flaw in either his lineage or his upbringing.

The fact that the Thatchers now had not one, but two daughters living in said savage backwater didn't enter into their thinking. Although Elizabeth had been there for going on eight years, they still truly believed this was a "phase" she was going through, and that one day she would simply come home.

Now that Julie had entered into Elizabeth's delusion, their mental gymnastics required a little more creativity, but any day now they expected both of their daughters to show up on their doorstep and ask demurely to be invited back into the pleasures of polite society.

Elizabeth looked at her mother and then over to Viola and repeated herself forcefully. "It will be very good to have Charles meet my husband, Nathan," Elizabeth said. And just to put an exclamation point on it, she said, "Constable Nathan Grant. The Mountie of Hope Valley." She said it as if she were introducing King George himself.

Grace flinched. "Well, that was an extraordinary display, Elizabeth. Whatever brought that on?"

"What brought that on, Mother, is your consistent disregard for the man I've chosen to spend the rest of my life with, the man I love..."

She turned to Nathan and she had tears in her eyes. He reached up and put his hand on her flushed cheek. "Angel, don't," he said softly. "I don't care." And she could see that he really didn't.

Perhaps it was her pregnancy, or perhaps it was the sweet look in her husband's eyes, but right there at the Thatcher dinner table, Elizabeth did something bold and quite unheard of. She kissed Nathan, unapologetically, and didn't make it a quick one. They might as well have stood on the table and danced a jig as far as Grace was concerned.

Viola gasped and nudged Lionel so he couldn't say he hadn't seen it when she wanted to discuss it at length later. Grace looked around the room to see which servants were witnessing this scandalous flaunting of the dining room rules, so she could talk to Collins about handling the gossip below stairs.

Julie was grinning as she watched. Lucas turned to her, and raised his eyebrows in a challenge. Julie's eyes went wide and she nodded. Lucas bent slowly and touched his lips to hers.

Grace could not have been more surprised if the house had sprouted wings and flown off to the moon.

"Oh," was all she managed to utter before Jack came running out of the door to the kitchen with Buttercup close on his heels, both of them screaming like banshees and giggling.

"Buttercup!" Viola said, in complete shock. The little girl she had dressed in so many ruffles and bows that it was hard to see if there was a child underneath, had actually taken off her shoes and stockings, and was running around the table in her bare feet. Like a wild animal.

"Lionel! Do something!" Viola said indignantly, but her husband the duke, Sir Lionel of London, had gone back to his freshly-served Beef Wellington and seemed largely undisturbed by the commotion.

On one of his passes by the table, Jack was caught up by Nathan's long arm. "Whoa, there, cowboy, what's the rush?" Nathan said, laughing. He whispered loudly, "When a pretty young lady is chasing you, Jack, you want to let them catch you once in a while..." Jack laughed and wriggled out of his arms, deciding now that chasing Buttercup might be the better idea.

Cora, the upstairs maid, came running in to search for the children, fairly quivering with apologies. "Ma'am, I'm so sorry, they're too fast for me!"

Grace Thatcher was speechless for one of the first times in her life. She felt she had lost complete control of any semblance of order or decorum, and right now she was contemplating where she might have gone wrong.

If only William were here, she thought. None of this would be happening. Nothing ever happens when William is here.

But that was an incorrect assumption. When Grace looked up at the arched entrance to the large dining room, she could clearly see that William Thatcher was standing there. His mouth was slightly agape as he watched and listened to the chaos that had overtaken his normally sedate and proper dining room.

"Hello, dear," Grace said, nearly at a shout to be heard over Cora's pleading with the children, Viola's gasping, and Jack and Buttercup's delighted squealing. The other sound coming from the table was the barely-stifled laughter of the members of the dinner party who also happened to be the Hope Valley residents.

"We have got to get a camera," Elizabeth said, still giggling hours later. She was talking softly so as not to wake Jack in the daybed that now occupied their bedroom. "If I could only have a picture of Mother's face, and then one of Father's..." She dissolved into giggles again.

Nathan pulled her closer on the four-poster bed. She was resting on her side, allowing the pillows to take the weight of the babies for a time. Her head was on Nathan's chest, and she felt warm and safe in his arms.

"I think we made an... impression," Nathan said thoughtfully, looking down at her so she could see his eyes twinkling.

Elizabeth frowned and looked up at him. "How is none of this bothering you? I thought this was going to be so hard for you to be here, and instead you seem to be enjoying yourself immensely!"

Nathan thought for a moment, wanting to say it in the right way. "The reason your parents are important to me is because they're your parents. Not because they're important people, or rich people, or people who know... dukes... and earls..." He smoothed her hair gently under his hand. "But let's face it, angel, they wouldn't seek me out as a friend, would they? We're so different. Not good or bad, just different."

Elizabeth sighed. "No, they wouldn't," she said. Softly, almost to herself, she said, "Maybe as a footman for their horses..."

Nathan nodded vigorously. "Yes. Exactly! So for me to try to rise in their estimation to the level of a son-in-law... well, it just feels futile. So why try?"

Elizabeth smiled and looked up at him. "That is so... reasonable."

Nathan reached down and put his hand on her stomach. "I have much more important things to do than to try to impress your parents."

Elizabeth giggled again. "I don't think I've ever seen Father so out of his element. Was it my imagination or did he look a little flushed?"

"Beet-red is more like it," Nathan said, chuckling.

"But you were so brave, Nathan. You stood up, walked around, put out your hand and introduced yourself as my husband." Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Father was taller than Jack. He used to use that against him, I think, sort of lording it over him." She smiled at Nathan, "You're taller than Father. By a good measure. I don't think he expected that."

Nathan nodded. "And then Lucas stood up from the other side of the table and put out his hand..." Nathan laughed softly. "He had to look up at both of us. I don't have the feeling he enjoyed that very much."

"No. And..." Elizabeth started.

"What?" Nathan asked, looking down at her.

"I never thought I'd say this, but you and Lucas make a good team."

Nathan laughed. "We do, don't we? It really helped that he stood up when I did. And I suppose I'm next up to bat for him. Did you hear what he asked your father?"

"No, the children were still making too much noise. What did he say?"

Nathan did his best Lucas impression, which Elizabeth thought was surprisingly good. "Mr. Thatcher, I would appreciate a moment of your valuable time at some point in our visit? Hopefully tomorrow?"

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "Do you think...? And did you notice when we were standing in front of the house when we first got here, that Lucas called Father his possible future father-in-law?"

Smiling, Nathan said, "Yes, I did notice that. But I already knew."

It was not easy for Elizabeth to get up quickly from a lying-down position these days, but she did her best.

"You knew?" she said indignantly. "What did you know? And when?"

Nathan smiled. "Lucas told me on the train two days ago that he's going to ask Julie to marry him and he wanted your father's blessing. He has the ring with him."

Elizabeth opened and closed her mouth like one of the fish she'd seen reeled in to the dock by Allie. "And you didn't tell me?"

"Lucas asked me not to," Nathan said simply, his face open. "But I figure now that he's pretty much let the cat out of the bag..."

"Nathan Grant! How did you keep that from me? About my own sister?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow and looked at her slyly. "It wasn't my story to tell."

What she was going to say next would remain a mystery, though Nathan had a fairly good idea just from the dark look she gave him. He was grateful that they were interrupted by a loud crash from the general direction of the kitchen. Elizabeth checked on Jack and after his spirited exercise earlier in the evening, he was softly snoring, still sound asleep.

Nathan and Elizabeth opened the bedroom door and were immediately drawn toward the kitchen by the delicious smell of something savory, like soup or stew. Neither of them had eaten much past the scallop appetizer, and they realized they were famished.

Pushing the door open, they could see that Lucas and Julie were standing with the Thatcher family's head cook, Elsa. The three of them were huddled around a huge cooking pot on the stove, wafting the steam up toward their noses with their eyes closed. Lucas had just hung another pot up that had fallen, clearly the noise that Elizabeth and Nathan had heard.

"So, you marinate the chicken in white wine first. Overnight?" Lucas asked Elsa.

"Yes. Or if you have only a little time, at least four hours. And no sweet wines. Sauvignon Blanc is best."

"Then you sprinkle cooked bacon on the top? When?"

"After the meal is ready, right before you serve," Elsa said, dropping fresh thyme into the pot and stirring. She filled a wooden spoon with the broth and lifted it to Lucas' mouth for tasting. He blew softly on it and sipped, closing his eyes again and sighing. "Oh, Julie, you have to try this," he said.

"Silly, I grew up on Elsa's food," Julie said. But she still took the spoon from him and finished it off.

Nathan walked over behind Lucas and looked into the pot. "Chicken stew?" he said, his mouth watering.

Elsa looked up at him from the considerable height difference between them, her eyes flashing darkly. "Coq au vin," she said vehemently, as if that would clear up any misunderstanding.

Lucas grinned and leaned next to Nathan and said softly, "French chicken stew. But it's still chicken stew."

Nathan nodded and said, "Thanks." He looked back at Lucas and smiled gratefully. "Again."

Nathan looked longingly into the stew pot. "Is anyone else hungry?"

Lucas exhaled. "Starving. I don't remember much past the Coquille St. Jacques."

To Nathan's blank look, Julie said, "The appetizer, the one with the scallops."

Nathan raised his eyebrows. "Oh, that was good."

Lucas nodded. "Excellent, because we're adding it to the menu at Le Bistro." At Elsa's quick look up at him, Lucas turned his charm on her with a smile and the cook softened immediately.

Nathan looked at Elizabeth and shook his head. Then he turned to Lucas. "Tell you what. I'll teach you how to ride a horse properly if you'll teach me how to do that."

Lucas put out his hand, laughing. "Deal." Then he turned to Elsa again. "I know this is for tomorrow's luncheon, Elsa, but we didn't get much dinner this evening." He smiled at her again and raised his eyebrows, puppy-dog style. "I don't suppose we could just have a bite, here in the kitchen...?"

Within minutes, the four of them were around the large table where the servants ate their supper, presented with steaming bowls of coq au vin and fresh fragrant sourdough bread. Elsa placed a dish of butter on the table and brought them four ciders.

Julie checked on Jack every once in a while, but he was out cold. They sat around the table in the kitchen and Elsa sat with them. They all enjoyed the delicious food while Lucas, Julie and Elsa told stories from the perspective of the kitchen - of elegant dinner parties saved at the last minute, missing ingredients and creative solutions, and how sometimes the worst mistakes can turn out to be the greatest triumphs.

By the time they'd eaten their fill, they'd been joined by Collins, Cora, and a scullery maid named Edith. The laughter around the table in the kitchen was as plentiful as the food.

Nathan was reminded of congenial dinners around his own harvest table and Rebecca's. And they were in the Thatcher mansion in Hamilton.

He shook his head and looked at Elizabeth, kissing her softly on the cheek as he pulled her close. "Never let me get so set in my ways that I can't be surprised, angel."

Elizabeth hugged him tightly. "I'll do my best to remind you, my love." She kissed him back. "As long as you'll do the same for me."