Charlotte stood at the rail of the packet vessel which took mail and other supplies between England and France, back and forth, all day long. Passengers were able to partake in their services as well if they were willing to settle for flexibility over amenities in their travel, so it was ideal for the needs of a young couple in love who simply wanted to get to Paris as quickly as possible.

The sun was rising over the sliver of France that she could see in the distance, lending a golden glow to the morning clouds and burning off what little fog there was on the channel. Charlotte squinted and blinked against the sun's brilliance as she felt its meager warmth begin to creep over her frigid cheeks.

She had positioned herself so that she could see both countries – one diminishing in size, and one growing larger. Her head continued to swivel from one to the other, as if she were watching a very slow tennis match.

"We have a carriage engaged in Calais," Alexander said, coming up behind her and putting his arms around her waist. "It will be a long ride and it will not be elegant, but it will serve."

Charlotte leaned back into his arms, glad of the warmth of his gray wool coat suddenly around her. She pulled it closer and remembered the last time she had been inside it – that very first day on the cliffs as she had stepped into his arms. She hadn't known it then, but that moment had been the beginning of the rest of her life – this wonderful, exciting life.

She smiled and looked back at him. "You know I do not care about fancy carriages. I only care that you are in it with me." Alexander turned her in his arms and wrapped his coat around her back. They were alone on the deck, save for two men on the other side, shipmates on the boat, the smoke from their cigarettes blowing backward as they talked and laughed.

Alexander bent his head to kiss her, and Charlotte melted into an overwhelming feeling of safety in the face of adventure, warm and held within his arms as the boat tossed gently across the sea, heading toward a land she had only read of in books. Their lips were tinged with the chill of the air as they began the kiss, but were now heating up quickly as they breathed together under the cover of his coat.

Moving his lips to her cheek, Alexander sighed. "I have but one concern about this honeymoon…" he said softly in her ear.

Charlotte still had not opened her eyes. She was suffused with the pleasant sensations of his lips on hers and the closeness of him, combined with the rhythmic motions of the water beneath the boat. "And what is that?" she said.

"That we will see less of Paris than we should because we will not want to leave our rooms," he said, moving his lips to her temple. "Unlike at Heyrick Park, no one will be the wiser if we stay in bed all day."

Laughing softly, Charlotte said, "Then we shall simply have to come back." She pressed her mouth to the spot she loved, just at the base of his throat. She could feel his heart beating there, solid and even, against her lips.

After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. She loved his strong jaw and the way his hair went to curls around his ears, especially today in the sea air. Charlotte had thought him very handsome from the first moment she'd seen him, sternly at his books in his study. And as he had stood and come around the front of his desk to question her, she had been momentarily aware of the pleasing lines of his long legs and his lean look in his waistcoat – although she had pushed any such highly inappropriate thoughts away from her mind the moment they had entered it.

Those thoughts were no longer unseemly, and she allowed her mind full rein, as she now knew so much more of him in every way. She pulled closer and felt the wool fabric of his waistcoat against her skin and realized he was wearing the gold one, the very one she had first seen on him. If I had only known then what I know now, she thought, a blush coming to her cheeks.

Charlotte sighed happily and moved to his side so that she could gaze back out at the Channel. "I have been standing here thinking about how the boundaries of my life have grown exponentially since I first came to Sanditon. I remember so clearly being in Tom and Mary Parker's carriage, coming around a hill and seeing the ocean for the first time. I had only known the farm, and it felt like a new world – all this blue water rising and falling in the distance."

Alexander nodded. "The sea has always been a part of my life, but it felt no less compelling, no matter how often I saw it. Samuel and I used to imagine we were pirates on a great galleon. We built a ship of driftwood in a cove where we felt we could escape the confines of our lives and conquer the world."

Charlotte looked up at him and placed her gloved hand on his cheek. "I would have liked to have known Alexander the boy," she said.

A cloud passed over his face for only a moment as he looked out at the sea. "Perhaps not. He could be resentful and brooding…"

"He had a challenging and complicated life," she said softly. "He survived and became an extraordinary and loving man."

Alexander turned and looked at her as he sighed. "Ah, you are my angel, Charlotte. You always see the best in me, and it reminds me to not be so hard on myself. Have you any idea what a gift that is?"

She leaned up and kissed him without a word, and then snuggled back into his arms, looking back out at the water. "When I would walk the cliffs," she said, "I would look at the ocean and think how it has been here since the beginning of time, and it would be rising and falling long after we are dust. It makes whatever trivial problems we endure seem less daunting somehow. I find comfort in our mortality in the face of the steadfastness of the sea."

Alexander nodded, and absently recited the beginnings of a poem he loved by Edmund Spenser:

"One day I wrote her name upon the strand,

But came the waves and washed it away:

Again I wrote it with a second hand,

But came the tide, and made my pains his prey…"

Charlotte smiled, "Yes! I do love that poem. His beloved scolds him for his hubris and arrogance in seeking to immortalize her name in the sand. She knows she will wither and die just as everything else will, and she refuses to allow him to glorify her."

"It is tempting to do when you love someone so dearly," Alexander said, looking at her.

"It is," she said, gazing back at him. "But I believe immortality would not be a comfort to me. There is a way of things, an ebb and flow to time. Is it not also comforting to know that we will grow old together, and watch Augusta and Leonora begin new families and bring us grandchildren…"

He held her tighter and looked out beyond the caps of white on the water. "And perhaps we will have children of our own…"

Charlotte felt a wave of excitement run through her at the prospect, and she took a deep breath. "In fact, is it not possible that I could already be with child…?"

Alexander's head turned sharply. "Charlotte…?"

She shook her head and laughed softly. "No, it is too soon to tell, but I was thinking last night as I lay in your arms that it was a possibility – and that has never been true for me before. And…" she sighed and pulled closer to his chest. "And…the thought of it makes me so very happy. And not just a child, but your child. Does that not then become our immortality?"

He tightened his grip on her, and his voice was low and filled with emotion. "I cannot begin to tell you the happiness it would bring me." He breathed deeply. "I want it so much that I almost cannot bear to think about it." Then he pulled away and looked at her. "But I also want you to know that you are enough. We have already been given so much, perhaps we should not be greedy. Should we not be blessed in that way, my life with you and Augusta and Leonora is more than enough."

Charlotte held his hand against her chest. "Thank you for saying that. I have heard stories from Miss Hankins of Lady Babington's struggles, and they do give me pause." She tilted her head and smiled. "But as my mother has spent nearly the entirety of her adult life with child, and Alison is but five months married and four months expecting, I do wonder if it is not inevitable."

For a moment, he didn't speak, and Charlotte turned to look up at him. He was deep in thought, and she had the feeling there was something he wanted to say. "What is it?" she asked with concern in her eyes.

"I feel…" he looked away and then back at her. "I feel I need to let you know that I will most certainly be over-protective. And I hope that you will remember the way in which I lost my mother, and forgive me…"

Charlotte exhaled. "Oh, Alexander, I am so sorry if I am being insensitive to your loss. Of course you would be worried for me." She held his face in her hands, speaking softly. "It has been three decades and the world of medicine has changed so markedly. My mother has never lost a child, which is extraordinary, and you can see for yourself how she fares in health and well-being after bringing twelve of us into the world. And you must take your cue from me, my love. Everything about us feels so…right, so much in tune with the stars in the heavens. Do you not feel it?"

Kissing her on the forehead, he said, "Every hour of every day…"

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I love you, my dear husband. And you are taking me to Paris. There can be nothing wrong in the entire world!"

Alexander laughed, again in awe of how quickly Charlotte could diffuse his dark moods. And as he held her, he closed his eyes and allowed the possibilities to wash over him. He imagined himself holding a child that they had created with their love, and he felt nothing but joy.

They were close enough now to see the white sand on the beaches of Calais, and the breakwater through which they would travel to reach the port. In the distance was the beacon at the summit of the watchtower – thick fog could roll in on a moment's notice, rendering the narrow channel treacherous, so even in daylight it showed its flame to guide ships and ferries through the Straits of Dover.

But on this day, as the sun rose over France, there was nothing but clear blue sky, and as the quaint buildings of Calais came into view, Charlotte's breath began to quicken. She felt tears at the back of her eyes, and she leaned up and kissed Alexander on the cheek, laughing.

"Thank you!" she said, unable to express her near-to-bursting heart with any coherence. "Oh, merci, mon amour…"

Samuel had been watching the final dress rehearsal for The Merchant of Venice at the Royal when Georgiana and Charles found him in the darkened seats under the gallery. Arthur was standing further up in the pit with the director, offering suggestions and praise where needed.

As the happy ending played out on stage with Bassiano and Portia in each other's arms, all watching were left in awe. Charles leaned over to Samuel, saying, "Marie is really very good. I have seen this done badly in London – that production could certainly have been well-served by an actress of her talents."

Samuel felt his chest expand, as if he, himself, had been given the compliment. "She is… very good…" he said softly, never taking his eyes from the stage.

Samuel and Marie had been dancing around their courtship, in part because neither had truly settled yet in Sanditon. Arthur had offered Marie a residency in the theater group, which would entail at least one starring role per season at the Royal – and Samuel was strongly considering taking Tom Parker up on his offer and opening a solicitor's office in the town. It would be a large step to take for either of them, and neither could say that it was not in part motivated by their growing feelings for each other.

They also could both go back to London and find their way there together, but the charm of Sanditon had taken hold and would not let go. For Marie, to be assured of ongoing work in a seaside resort setting, with Arthur's kind offer of modest apartments in the bargain, was very tempting. And the longer Samuel stayed at Heyrick Park making new and much happier memories with his expanding family, the less he wanted to throw himself back into the chaos and loneliness of London society.

They had not yet admitted that the decision had been made – but in truth it had.

As the sets were put away and the actors went backstage to change out of their costumes, Samuel turned to the seats behind him and said, "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

He smiled at Georgiana and Charles, and was happy to see that they seemed more at ease together than ever. Considering that his first encounter with the two of them involved slamming doors and flying teapots, the fact that they were sitting together not only in peace but also in intimate proximity gave him a clue to what they might wish to say.

Georgiana, never one to mince words, said, "Samuel, we cannot continue to receive free legal advice from you. You shall never make a living here in Sanditon if you do not charge your clients."

Samuel smiled. "First of all, may I remind you that you are my sister. Charging family for advice is the worst kind of usury, and I shall not be accused of it. Secondly," and for this part of his answer he leaned forward as if telling her a secret, "I am not in need of a living. I practice law to help people. As you know, I could spend the rest of my days with my feet up and want for nothing. So let us not be talking of charges."

Georgiana lifted her chin. "Alright, brother. Some advice then. What would happen if Charles and I married?"

Having just been rather smug in his statement to Georgiana, Samuel was struck speechless by this sudden turn. Then his legal mind took the reins and he narrowed his eyes, thinking. It did not take him long. "I should think that Mr. Lockhart would instantly become a very wealthy man."

Charles leaned forward in the seat. "And what if I refused the money?"

"You cannot," Samuel said quickly. "It is like denying gravity. Whether you say it is true or not, it will still be what it is."

Georgiana nodded and looked at Charles sadly. "As I said."

Charles huffed in frustration. "So because the woman I love is wealthy, I cannot marry her? How is there any sense in that? This world is a study in insanity." Taking a deep breath, he said. "And so – this is my solution. If we allow the case to go to court and the money reverts to you and Alexander, that leaves Georgiana essentially penniless, am I correct?"

Samuel frowned and nodded. "Yes, but how does Georgiana live?"

"You pay her bills, and offer her whatever she might want for incidentals. I get nothing." He laughed softly, "Which puts me in a more tenuous position than I am now, as all of her debts would be mine should you decide not to pay them."

Samuel looked at Georgiana. "You would be willing to do this? It would be irreversible. It involves a great deal of trust on your part."

Georgiana shrugged and laughed. "I am the very picture of trust these days, am I not? I trust you and Alexander, I trust Charles, I trust the courts and the laws… I have to trust someone – as a woman with a fortune is simply low-hanging fruit on the tree, ready to be plucked by all." She took a deep breath and turned to Charles with soft eyes. "At the very least, I am choosing who will pluck me."

Samuel nodded. "Alexander and I would have to bring suit for the money. You can opt not to fight it, and it can be settled out of court, but tongues will wag."

At this, Georgiana laughed with abandon. "My dear brother, tongues have been wagging about me since the day I was born. It bothers me not a whit."

Samuel smiled. "You will have until Alexander returns from Paris to think about this, but I will begin drawing up the papers. I assume that, at least within the boundaries of Sanditon, we will all be forthcoming about why this is happening? My brother and I are not in the habit of preying on those we love, and would not have others think we are."

Waving up toward the stage, Georgiana said, "We will hold a town meeting if you wish, and tell all."

Laughing softly, Samuel said, "I believe that will not be necessary. It seems that there is in place already an exceedingly efficient communications system in this town. I will wager if we tell five select people, and one of them is Lady Denham, word will spread faster than wildfire."

"It is settled, then," Georgiana said, sitting back in her seat.

Samuel looked at both of them and then smiled. "May I be the first to offer my congratulations?"

Georgiana raised an eyebrow and gazed at Charles. "He has not officially asked me yet," she said softly.

Charles reached up and put his hand on her face, gazing at her tenderly. "Miss Georgiana Lambe, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? Will you promise to love and honor me, and keep me in blissful poverty for the rest of my life?"

Looking at him from under her lashes, she said, "That will do for a start. But I expect that a man of your creative intellect will find a slightly more romantic way to accomplish the task." She breathed deeply and happily. "And for now – yes. I will." Georgiana put her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "God help me, Charles Lockhart, I do love you so dearly."

"And I you, though you are the most exasperating woman I have ever known…" Georgiana stopped him with a kiss.

Samuel stood quietly. "Well, yes, then, I will just leave you both to it…" Receiving no response, Samuel smiled and made his way down to the stage to find Marie.

"And where do you think Father and Mother are right now?" Leonora asked.

Eva was sitting on Leo's bed leaning up against the headboard as she read Adventures of a Donkey to her in an effort to help her get to sleep. Leonora had been asking the same question all day long, and Eva feared this day might be repeated for seven long days until Alexander and Charlotte returned to Heyrick Park.

"Miss Leonora, I cannot continue to answer that question every minute of every day. But I will tell you that right now they are sound asleep, which is where you should also be. Shall we read more about Jemmy the Donkey, and will you attempt to close your eyes?"

"I wonder if they have donkeys in Paris," Leo said, her forehead wrinkled into a frown.

"I am certain they do, as there are many farms in France. But for now, I will read to the end of this page, and then you will go to sleep. Have we a bargain?"

"Yes, Mrs. Wheatley," Leonora said, snuggling down into the covers.

To Eva's relief, Leo's eyes were beginning to look very heavy. As the book was in Jemmy the Donkey's voice, Eva lowered hers to the approximation of what she assumed a donkey would sound like, could they actually speak:

"How often have I listened to the praises bestowed upon horses and dogs! How many records of their sagacity have reached my long ears! Alas! my vanity does not help me to one anecdote, one incident, in which OUR talents natural or acquired are favorably exhibited; yet in attachment to our masters and that faithfulness of memory so highly prized in the animals I quote, in these essential qualifications I think we stand nearly equal. It cannot be our rough exterior that places us beneath notice; for as far as I can judge, beauty is not the exclusive possession of any particular class of animals."

"I think I should like to have a donkey," Leonora said sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

Eva laughed softly and kissed Leo on the cheek as she tucked her in. "I wonder what Mr. Turk would have to say about that," she said, leaning over to blow out the candle.

"Perhaps they would be friends," Leo said, her eyes finally closing.

Eva watched as she finally drifted off, and just for good measure, she kissed Leo's cheek again. "Perhaps they would," Eva said softly.

Walking down the long hallway, Eva was struck by the openness and unconditional love of children. The thought that a donkey might be held in less esteem than a horse or a dog made no sense to Leonora. All were judged based on merit, on kindness, on their good nature, and each unique in their value.

Were she to ask Leonora how she herself differed from other members of the household, Leonora would likely never bring up the color of her skin. Leonora loved her no less for her heritage, and certainly would not consider her of a lower order than any other person. Yet how would Eva, born in the islands into bondage, ever have found herself running a great estate like Heyrick Park without the horrible and inhuman practice of slavery? In the true order of things, she should have lived and died, marrying, raising children in among the palm trees and thatched houses of Eleuthera instead of being separated from her family and brought to Sanditon.

Eva felt that Heyrick Park had been her destiny, and that her connection to Abigail Colbourne was of a higher order than just this life. In short, she felt she had been brought here to finish the loving work with Alexander and Samuel that Abigail was unable to – and she could not have loved those boys more if she had brought them into the world herself.

As was the common practice, the housekeeper on an English estate took on the title of Mrs. whether married or not, so although Eva had remained single her entire life, she had been known as Mrs. Wheatley from the time of Abigail Colbourne's death. That is not to say that she had not loved, but for the last three decades her primary purpose had been mothering and protecting Alexander and Samuel, and in a household with an often-drunk Jonathan Colbourne, that was a full-time job.

When she was in her twenties, there had been a man named Joshua in the slave quarters who had taken a fancy to her, and she had loved him back. But on one particular night, the boys had been badly beaten while she and Joshua kissed under the trees. She knew she could have prevented it, and she vowed from that moment forward that she would never let her own needs come before theirs. She and Joshua had continued to love each other, but she would not budge in her resolve. He had died on the estate five years ago with her still in his heart, and she had held his hand as he left this world, in grief, but without regret.

As it often did when she allowed herself to think of the past, Eva's mind returned to Sarah Kingsley. She had taken Sarah under her wing, and had loved her, but she had not been able to fully protect her either. Another woman lost after leaving behind a child – and when Eva sought out Georgiana, she felt much the same as she had with the boys. When a mother cannot be there, someone must step in.

But now that Eva knew that Sarah lived, and was most likely in St. John, she wondered often how she fared. She knew that Sarah must think of Georgiana and that she still felt that staying away was the best way she could love her daughter – but something was pulling at Eva. She had seen the longing in Georgiana's eyes, and she could not shake the feeling that she should do something to bridge the divide between mother and daughter.

Eva decided that tomorrow, she would ask Samuel again what his offices in London had learned. Perhaps they had a more specific address. Perhaps a letter could find Sarah on the island.

Snuffing out the candles after checking once more on the girls, Eva made her way to her own room. She smiled and breathed deeply in gratitude. After all that had happened in her life, she had her family around her, and one by one she had seen them find their happiness. Sorrow in childhood is never easy, but it builds strength – and Alexander, Samuel, Augusta, Leonora, and Georgiana had all grown into such fine people, with goodness in their hearts and an infinite capacity to love.

That was all she could ask. Tonight, as every night, she would say her prayers and speak to Abigail and Joshua, and Eva Wheatley would be content.

It was the longest day either of them could remember, and when the carriage finally pulled up in front of the Paris flat at nearly midnight, Alexander and Charlotte could only think of how soft the bed might feel. The cushions on the carriage seats were long in need of replacing – Charlotte had joked that they had the thickness of two feathers, one on top of the other.

They had slept for a time where the road was good, with Alexander leaning against the carriage window while Charlotte lay her head on his chest, but once they moved closer to Paris, the frequently missing sections of cobblestone woke them with a start and they gave up trying. It had allowed Charlotte her first glimpse of Paris, although the outlying sections were hardly the most beautiful or romantic parts of the city.

But as they drew further into Paris, she sighed in wonder. The gaslights, the people still out even at this hour, as if it were midday in Sanditon. Laughter coming from doorways, streets where carriages could run four abreast and still have ample room, music floating out from cafés and bistros, and the delectable aromas of roasting meats, melting cheeses, buttery breads, and exotic dishes she could only imagine.

Their flat on the Rue de la Gaieté in the Montparnasse district was absolute perfection. It was roomy, meticulously clean, and it sat directly across from a small eatery called the Café des Variétés. Their second floor terrace looked down on the tables and chairs that even at this hour were full of dandys sipping on liqueur and hoping to be seen by anyone passing by; and creatives – painters, writers, philosophers and poets, solving the problems of the world while drinking coffee so strong it could likely stand up on its own without the benefit of the tiny cup.

There was music coming from the café, a mandolin and perhaps a flute, and when they leaned over the terrace rail, they could even hear some of the conversations. "This is like a dream," Charlotte said, her arm in Alexander's. "I feel I could spend some happy hours in one of those chairs down there, just listening."

But that would be for tomorrow, as there was nothing they wanted more than to quickly wash the road dust from their bodies and to slip between the clean white bedsheets that beckoned from the large soft feather bed. Alexander asked the concierge that a late breakfast of eggs, tomatoes, toast, apricots and café crème be brought up at ten in the morning, and they gratefully locked their door.

For a moment after lying down, they simply stared up at the ornate ceiling with its exquisite carved crown moldings, and watched the patterns that were playing there in the light of the flickering candles. They were in that paradoxical state of being so tired that they could not close their eyes.

"Do you feel as if we are still moving?" Charlotte said slowly.

"Are we not?" Alexander said, laughing softly. "It should not be surprising, considering we started at dawn on a ship, and then traversed a good portion of France in a carriage." He turned to her and pulled her into his arms. "Here, move with me," he said playfully, kissing the softness of her neck just under her ear.

Giggling, Charlotte said, "I thought we were going to sleep," as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back to give him better access.

"And if we did that," he said softly, moving slowly down to the space between her breasts, "Do you realize this would be the first night since our wedding that we did not make love?"

"Officially, that time has passed, as it is now morning," Charlotte said in her best governess voice.

"By my rules, since we have not yet slept, it is still yesterday…" He continued to place a line of kisses down her stomach as Charlotte's resolve melted away.

She ran her fingertips across the warm skin of his back. "It will have to happen sometime, you know? That we simply go to sleep for the night?"

"Ah, yes," Alexander said, looking up at her. "But not this night." In one fluid motion, he moved himself into a more advantageous position. Charlotte laughed and drew his face to hers. Their kisses took them deeper, and their exhaustion seemed to evaporate as they passed into the early morning whispering in French to each other, and moving together to the music from below.