Charlotte noticed the snubs as soon as they departed the train station. Mr. Godfrey had been with the Dorsch family for years and a masterful caretaker of the house, but a naive part of her had expected to be greeting one of her blood relatives instead of him. After all, Charlotte and her companions had traveled quite the distance and it'd been months since she'd seen them all.

Charlotte brushed it aside as nothing more than a meaningless oversight. After all, Clark's wedding party was being set up so the family was likely busy with that. She couldn't let possibly misconstrued slights get to her or she'd be agitated the entire visit.

Then Charlotte caught sight of the coach Mama had sent and she switched back to her original assumption. The carriage was older and should have been sold off years ago since its paint was chipping and the cushions inside were heavily used.

The third undeniable insult came with her mother revealing that the three of them would be staying on the second floor. Inherently, there was nothing wrong with the second floor except that it was reserved for acquaintances. The balcony views faced the street instead of the gardens and the rooms weren't as finely furnished as the third floor.

However, what grounded her from actually getting worked up was Arthur not noticing anything wrong. His reactions reminded her that none of these intended slights meant anything in the grand scheme of things. This wasn't her life anymore and they were only in town temporarily.

So, she let go of her hurt ego and watched Karen and Arthur's marvel, allowing herself to see her childhood home with the wonder of fresh eyes too.

"Now I know why your momma looked at the cabin like it weren't nothing more than a hovel," Arthur was saying as they finished readying for dinner. "The whole house would fit into the entry of this one."

"It's cozy," Charlotte said defensively, perhaps more fervently than necessary, as her mother's disapproval had been on her mind too.

"Yeah, cozy." Arthur shook his head and opened their bedroom door. "For a rodent."

"It's not that bad," she protested, trying not to laugh, but his teasing had her smile slipping out. Especially when she remembered rodents had made it their home when she'd first moved in. Luckily, Puck had taken care of the last of them.

"You gotta admit, it don't hold a candle to this place."

"It does if what I want in a home is something small," she returned, stepping past him and into the hall.

"If you say so." He shut the door behind him. "So, I wanted to ask. What's in store for tomorrow?"

"Well," she hooked her hand over his elbow. "Mama wants a private breakfast between her and I, before the reception. After that, the house and lawn will be set up for the normal sorts of wedding celebrations I imagine."

"What's that entail exactly? Ain't never been to one."

That shocked her. "Never?"

Arthur shrugged. "Nothin' real conventional anyhow." His eyes slipped into memory. "I saw Hosea and Bessie get married in '83, but it weren't done in a church."

Arthur rarely spoke of Hosea even after their visit to his grave, but his voice always softened at the mention. Charlotte replied, "I'm sure the sentiment is much the same as any wedding. All of your friends bore witness to it, yes?"

He shook his head slightly. "Back then, it was still just the three of us. I mean, we hadn't even saved Marston from the noose yet."

Charlotte itched for him to elaborate on that tale, but one was never alone in the halls of this house and she didn't want the story overheard. So, she asked, "Well, you've been to a party or two, haven't you?"

"Sure, I guess."

"It'll be something like that, but with quite a few people, most of them strangers."

"I'm not sure I've been to the same types of parties. I doubt high society caters to drunks, gossips and thems that think they're better than everyone struttin' around makin' fools of themselves."

She grinned at him. "Sounds like every party I've been."

"Really?" His brows rose. "Maybe this ain't gonna be too unfamiliar a-territory then."

Charlotte noticed Arthur approached every new situation with a strategy in mind, in case something were to go wrong. He entered a room and his eyes immediately searched for the other doors and windows. She'd observed him do it here already and it was an action she wasn't sure he was even conscious of performing.

It said a lot of his person that he was always looking for the exit. It was as if, no matter the situation, he needed to make sure there was a way out. He was a man who had been backed into too many corners.

Downstairs, the private dining Charlotte had been hoping for awaited them. Only her brothers, Karen, and another woman, presumably Felicity, were in attendance.

It was Charlotte's first time setting eyes on the woman who had captured her brother's heart so securely, he'd risked his inheritance in order to elope with her.

She sat with a proper upright posture, gowned in a cream dress frilled on its top edges. Her skin had the hint of a tan, as if she'd been in the sun recently. Or, perhaps that was her natural hue as her face, neck and arms matched in color. Her thick, chestnut hair had been neatly-pinned to the top of her head and secured with a dove clip.

"Charlotte!" was all the warning she had before Felicity left the table and wrapped her gloved arms around her in a tight squeeze.

"Ah, you must be Felicity," Charlotte greeted with amusement at her exuberance. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

Felicity pulled back and Charlotte didn't miss the brief, puzzled glance downward.

There was only one thing that could have her confused. To distract her, Charlotte asked quickly, "How was the honeymoon?"

Felicity's expression cleared and she glowed. "Absolutely charming. I've never been to New York..."

She went on and Charlotte did her best not to sigh in relief. Truth be told, she was now rather glad for Arthur's insistence for discretion of her pregnancy. His instinct on the matter had been entirely accurate. How she could have forgotten the high scrutiny she would receive if it was revealed she had no idea.

Of course, Charlotte wanted to share the news with her family. She was happy with anticipation, but now that she was under her parents' roof again, it was difficult not to feel the familiar suffocation she'd suffered growing up. Then later, the overwhelming sense of duty in her role as a marriageable woman. All in all, perhaps it was best if her mother and father were only informed once the child was born.

"I do wish the family had come around sooner," continued Felicity regretfully, "but Martha has more than made up for it with the planning of the party tomorrow."

"Yes," Charlotte agreed. "Mama does love a good soirée."

"What I never understood was your daddy being so hung up over a damn dowry in the first place," said Arthur to Clark. "It ain't like the old man don't got the cash to spare."

Clark's lip curled sardonically. "Father's idea of self-sufficiency has always been unyieldingly inflexible."

Felicity rested a hand on Clark's arm. "But that's why we're delighted Martha and Howard have come around. Now, we can celebrate all together."

"Tell me about the elopement, Felicity," Charlotte said, to break the growing tension she saw in her brother's clenched jaw. "It's impossible to imagine Clark doing anything romantic."

A pretty blush pinkened her cheeks. "It was rather spontaneous." She sighed and closed her eyes. "We married on a Wednesday."

Charlotte shared a look with Clark, unsure of the significance. "Was that important to you?"

Felicity opened her eyes and answered, "Oh, yes. Wednesdays are best of all to marry."

The notion amused Charlotte. "Are they?"

Felicity quoted seriously, "Monday for health, Tuesday for wealth, Wednesday best of all, Thursday for crosses, Friday for losses and Saturday is no luck at all."

"Oh, my."

"There a reason behind all the blue and white too?" Karen brought up.

"Oh yes," Felicity nodded. "White, chose right, blue love will be true."

Felicity shared the domination of the dinner conversation with Karen as they went into the details of the wedding party. Charlotte hadn't ever seen Karen so energized by mere conversation before. Charlotte soon noticed she'd also inexplicably adopted a new method of speaking, in a light and airy lilt and a trilling laugh to match.

She paid Karen closer attention and heard the hard 'ain'ts' had disappeared from her vocabulary as well. Her words in general had toned down, as if censored. One would assume a curse word had never left her lips.

The more Charlotte listened, the more she wondered if Karen hadn't been watching her closely and taking mental notes on her speech pattern this whole time. It was somewhat eerie to see her mannerisms picked up and mirrored.

Confused, she caught Arthur's gaze and he rolled his eyes upward. She pressed her lips together to cover up a laugh. Despite the odd mimicking, it was much preferable to listen to the constant chatter than to have all of them stuck in an awkward silence.

When dinner was nearly over, there was a sudden disruption of Felicity's happy gushing. At first, Charlotte thought it the sound of rumbling thunder, but the noise increased in volume before fading and starting up again.

"What on Earth is that?" she exclaimed.

Clark glared out the window. "Those bloody scorchers tearing up the lane, marking North Shore like it's theirs."

"Scorchers?" She stood and went to the window to get a glimpse of them, but it was too dark to see anything.

"It's two or three hooligans racing their automobiles every night." Clark scoffed. "If you ask me, the city needs to get a move on and erect the speed limit signs they've been promising for weeks."

"Speed limit signs?"

"To punish those reckless imbeciles—"

"Clarkie," Felicity interrupted and it surprised Charlotte to see her brother actually look chastened.

"My apologies for my temper, dear, but the kinds of people who own those devil wagons drive me up the wall."

Benji pointed out, "You know Father is looking into being such an owner. He's joined the automobile club so it's just a matter of time."

Clark said sourly, "I stand by my statement."

Charlotte was taken aback by the conversation, by both Clark's rebellious words and her father's new hobby. "Father's joined an automobile club?"

"Ever since Chicago hosted some motor race five years ago, he's wanted to get his hands on one."

"I had no idea." Charlotte nodded at her other brother, who had hardly said a word at dinner. "By the way, how are you, Benji? I haven't seen you since we got here."

"He's terribly tuckered out," Karen informed them with her fake accent. "He has been chasing girls all day."

"What?" Charlotte faced Benji. "Is that true?"

"Oh yes," Karen went on. "Two of them even."

Benji shifted uncomfortably. "You're purposefully misrepresenting the truth."

She winked at him playfully. "It's what I do."

"They're my little sisters," Felicity explained to Charlotte as Karen continued to tease Benji. "Your brother has been gracious enough to watch over them today while my parents collected my grandparents. I'm so happy everyone will be here..."

Felicity went on an extensive, unnecessary description of the family members who would be attending tomorrow. Eventually, Charlotte noticed the exhaustion taking over Arthur's expression. His voice roughened when he was tired and it did so now when he answered Benji on a question he snuck in after Felicity paused to take in a breath.

After awhile, Arthur didn't join in on the conversation at all and that was the tell Charlotte needed to excuse them. It wasn't only him. Charlotte was beginning to tire out also, having missed a nap on the train as she'd been too anxious and excited to rest her head.

Before Felicity started another wordy explanation, Charlotte apologized over her weariness of the travel and that she was ready for bed. Karen started to join her, but Arthur made it to her side first, despite his obvious tiredness. They retreated upstairs, Karen choosing to remain after Charlotte encouraged her to stay.

As they entered their bedroom, Charlotte closed the door and leaned against it, watching Arthur shrug off his dinner jacket and hang it up. "Overwhelming, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it weren't too bad just the three of them and Karen." Arthur sat on the bed, removing his boots next. "It's the rest of the time I ain't lookin' forward to."

To reassure him, she told him, "We only need to stay through the visit with Aunt Rosie the day after tomorrow and then we can head home."

He simply nodded in answer and she shortened the distance between them. She laid a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"I'm aware none of this is your cup of tea." She squeezed him lightly. "But I want you to know, I appreciate the effort you're making."

"This is something you wanna do and I'm here for you." He shook his head. "But I ain't puttin' on no song and dance tomorrow like Karen's doing."

"That's the last thing I want from you."

"I reckon, a few days of this ain't gonna kill me."

"Of course not," Charlotte said firmly. If anything, Arthur needed to use this time to rest. He'd been pushing himself too hard lately, in her opinion. He'd been picking up her chores and worked outside the house most of the day, leading to more and more early nights. He deserved to relax.

Charlotte moved to slide the straps of his suspenders off his shoulder. She intended her touch as innocent enough—merely her assisting him in changing for bed—but something had her fingers slowing. His eyes locked on her, watching closely and she started on his shirt buttons.

Suddenly, sleeping was the last thing on her mind. With every inch undone, she widened the open gap of his shirt and her body warmed further. Slowly, she pulled up his shirt, untucking it, to get to the last few buttons.

The exhaustion in his expression had completely disappeared, replaced by a spark of hot desire, but still he made no attempt to pull her in. Once she finished loosening the last button, she swept her hands inside his shirt, passing over smooth skin, chest hair, and scars alike. Arthur allowed her touching and she felt his trembling of anticipation under her hand. She paused over his heart and the familiar rhythmic thumping picked up its pace.

He closed his eyes and exhaled, his breath warming the skin on her arm. She lifted her hands to his jaw, rubbing her thumb on his cheek.

"Would you..." her tongue felt thick so she cleared her throat. "Would you consider staying up with me a mite longer, Mr. Morgan?"

His response was to finally pull her into his lap, wrap his arms around her and kiss her so long, it left her head dizzy, her legs weak and her breathless for more.

OOOOOOOOO

Charlotte woke at dawn, Arthur still in a deep slumber on his back and snoring. So as not to disturb him, she carefully extracted herself from the bed and moved as quietly as she could in the room to collect the clothes she had laid out from the day before.

Charlotte knew where her mother expected her so she made her way downstairs. She allowed her fingers to trail the banister as her mind slipped into memory. Without Arthur or Karen at her side, it was easy to relive the steps of the past once again. She'd spent her whole life in this house and now everything was so different.

She used to make this walk every day to breakfast, to listen to her mother's newest grievances and hear about how she wasn't putting in enough effort to find a suitable husband. Mind you, a suitable husband in her mother's eyes, not hers.

Before she married Cal, the rest of her day would be taken up with her father, working at his doctor's office for a few hours before her mother sent for her again. Only the evenings, when her mother wasn't dragging her off to some social gathering, had been her own.

As she entered the dining room, it was her mother and Felicity who looked over. She hadn't expected her new sister-in-law, but she wasn't unwelcome. Perhaps, she'd be the buoy the two of them needed between them to remain civil.

Her mother sniffed. "Ah. Charlotte. You've finally arrived."

That sort of passive aggressive remark would have once deflated her into submission, but nowadays it did nothing to affect her.

"Good morning, Mama, Felicity." Charlotte stepped in fully and they stood to greet her. "My apologies to the both of you. Although, I must point out, Mama, you never specified the time you wanted my company this morning."

"It's of no matter." Her mother waved a dismissive hand. "You're here now. Have some tea before we get started."

"Started on what?"

"It's been ages since I've seen you," her mother said instead of answering her, as she proceeded to do her usual examination. "You've put on weight, darling."

"Have I?" Charlotte asked lightly as she accepted a servant handing her a cup. They were words that once would have spiked dread through her heart and left her self-conscious the rest of the day. Because there was currently actual truth behind the statement, the words hit her chest and dissipated without effect.

"What have you been eating?"

"The same as usual. I have my garden and Arthur is a proficient hunter so there's quite the variety of meat he's managed to procure."

"Yes, I remember," her mother commented, her face crinkling somewhat at Arthur's mention.

Charlotte told her, "He's shown me how to expand on my skills also."

"You hunt?" asked Felicity in surprise.

"Where we live, it's a necessity."

"Yes, she has this terribly cramped shack as far from civilization as can be," said her mother and before Charlotte could counter that, she continued, "You know, I read too much time outdoors isn't good for a person."

"Oh? Where did you read that?" Charlotte asked in amusement as she sipped her tea.

Mama fluttered her fingers. "I forget now." Her gaze drifted to Charlotte's plain blouse and skirt and her nose wrinkled in disdain. "Is this what you're wearing to your brother's party?"

It wasn't, but couldn't give her mother an inch. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's unbecoming," she said shortly.

"I think it's charming," Felicity said graciously. "There's nothing wrong with a simplistic style."

"That may be, but she should be accentuating those hips instead of hiding them."

To what purpose, Charlotte wanted ask. Yet, she knew the conversation that followed would start a disagreement. Charlotte said evasively, "I've deliberately chosen to dress for comfort over fashion on this trip, Mama."

"I, for one, applaud you the luxury," Felicity put in. "For the party, I have three outfits to make for a quick change today."

Charlotte thought the girl might only be saying it to make her feel better and didn't mean the sentiment at all, but it was a kind gesture nonetheless.

"Alright, I won't hear any more haranguing against me." Her mother started for the door. "Come along, dears."

Perplexed at the direction her mother was leading them, she asked, "Are you two going somewhere?"

"Why, yes," her mother answered and pulled her forward as the front doors were opened. "And you are too."

Charlotte stopped moving her feet. "Mama, I wasn't expecting to leave the house."

Mama passed her an affronted look. "You can't mean to stay in your room all day before the party?"

"No—"

"Then there's no reason to resist in coming along."

Charlotte made a quarter turn, but her mother had a tight grip on her arm. "I need to let Arthur know where I'm going at least."

"We'll be back before he even knows you're missing."

"But—"

"Tell her, Felicity," her mother demanded.

Somewhat startled, Felicity said agreeably, "Oh yes. Besides, you can count on Clark to inform him of our whereabouts."

Charlotte wasn't convinced in the slightest until her mother softened her tone and added a pleading, "Come, dear. I wish to spend time with my girls."

Her request sounded sincere and she had no true objections so Charlotte nodded and allowed herself to be bustled to the awaiting carriage. The largest and most comfortable of the coaches her parents owned, Charlotte was quick to note.

She wanted to enjoy the morning with her mother and her new sister-in-law, to laugh over breakfast and tea and gossip about silly, nonsensical things.

However, Charlotte was having difficulty relaxing in their company as she couldn't explain the distinct impression of feeling ambushed and abducted.