Alexander lifted the hammer and let it fall again, driving the nail perfectly. The observatory was nearly finished, settled in beside the greenhouse, and he felt the intense pride that comes with the completion of an arduous and complex task. He gazed up through the domed roof and could see every constellation clearly through the telescope that was suddenly in his hand in place of the hammer. The windows around the structure allowed him to see the land and the trees, and as he turned, he could see his father standing in the distance by the pond. He was scowling at him, disapproving.

"What a bloody colossal waste of time," Jonathan said scornfully. "It's such a travesty that you were the oldest. Samuel would have been so much better at managing this estate."

"We needed an observatory," Alexander said firmly. "We could not see all the stars." Even to himself, his voice sounded like a child's.

"Keep your eyes on the ground, boy," Jonathan growled. "You will never be worthy of seeing the stars."

His father then raised the hammer in his hand and began to dismantle the boards, one by one, as Alexander stood rooted, unable to move his feet. He heard the sound of the hammer, pounding, and then the glass breaking, and the boards falling, one by one by one…

"My love," Charlotte said, "There is someone knocking at the door…" Her voice was distant, sleepy, and as he woke with a start, Alexander felt her soft and warm in his arms. His chest rose and fell with his quickened breath, and he found himself looking around the Paris flat, fully expecting his father to be looming over them.

"Monsieur, le petit déjeuner!" A voice called out from the other side of the locked door announcing that breakfast was being delivered.

"Alexander?" Charlotte said in concern, her eyes finally fully open. She brushed a light film of perspiration from his forehead and could see a form of terror in his eyes. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Yes," Alexander said, still breathing deeply and just now moving back into reality. He kissed her lightly on the top of her head and reached for his nightshirt at the end of the bed. "I am fine now," he said, sounding quite a bit less than fine to Charlotte's ears.

"Oui, une minute monsieur, s'il vous plaît," Alexander called out.

Charlotte watched as he stood and pulled the shirt over his head. For a short and blissful moment, and for the first time since they had been wed, she was able to see him in full daylight from head to toe, and it quite took her breath away. She had seen drawings of statues in books: Michelangelo, Donatello, Bernini; and she and Alison had blushed over them in some wonder – but the warm color of real flesh rather than cold marble, the movement of muscles under the skin, the knowledge of how it felt to touch the warmth of him, the tug at her heart now seeing his scars not only above his waistline but also below, still angry in rose-colored swaths…

"Charlotte?" Alexander said, turning and smiling. "Had you better not make yourself presentable?"

Yes, she had been staring, and now both of her cheeks felt as if they had tiny flames under them.

He moved back toward the bed and kissed her quickly. "We are married now and you may look at me whenever you wish. But you know that I shall then ask that you reciprocate…" He raised an eyebrow and gave her his best crooked smile.

Charlotte took a very deep breath and laughed softly. "I could not help it. You are so beautiful…" She pulled her nightdress from the end of the bed and without standing, pulled it over her head and wiggled it under her. She shook her head lightly, wondering how on earth she could still feel any shyness with Alexander, but then she realized in astonishment that it had only been a week since their wedding. One week. A lifetime.

Alexander unlocked the door and opened it to the concierge, who modestly averted his eyes from the unmade bed and the lovely young bride still sitting on it. "Jeunes mariés," he said, smiling at Alexander. "C'est merveilleux."

Nodding and exhibiting a light blush himself, Alexander looked at Charlotte. "Yes, we are newlyweds," he said with softness in his eyes. "And it is most certainly marvelous."

After setting their places at the table, the concierge bowed to Alexander and moved quietly out of the room without letting his gaze fall on Charlotte. As Alexander closed the door, she could see that he was still disturbed by being awakened so suddenly from whatever he was seeing in his dreams.

"Are you hungry?" she said softly, lying back down on the bed and pulling his pillow closer to hers.

He turned and smiled. "Yes, but I can wait," he said. He walked over and lay down next to her, and Charlotte rested her head on his arm, moving closer.

They lay in silence for a moment, and she said, "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Alexander sighed, and pulled her head close to his chest, holding her tightly. "It will not change anything," he said in a low tone. "He will still come back to haunt me."

"Who will?" Charlotte asked, though she was fairly certain she knew already.

"My father," Alexander said, with his jaw clenched in the way that Charlotte was now beginning to recognize as solely belonging to his thoughts of Jonathan Colbourne.

"Tell me your dream," she said softly, brushing his curls back from the remaining moisture on his face.

Alexander shook his head lightly. "Ah, it was absurd, as most dreams are. I was building the observatory out near the pond." He sighed deeply. "And he disapproved. As he disapproved of everything I did. Nothing was ever enough. I was never enough."

Charlotte moved closer. "I have spoken a little with Eva about your father. She believes he treated you as he did because he was jealous of the time your mother spent with you after you were born."

Frowning, Alexander looked at her. "Jealous? I barely remember my mother. I was only four when she died."

"Yes, but in his mind, you took her away from him."

"That is irrational," Alexander said curtly.

"I have yet to hear a story about your father that paints him as a rational man," Charlotte said simply. Alexander looked into her eyes and they were like steel – he had the feeling that she would defend him to the ends of the earth or die in the trying. His own eyes softened and he placed his hand on her cheek, his thumb caressing the velvet of her skin.

"Would that Samuel and I had had a governess with a heart like yours," he said tenderly. "You never would have allowed it, would you? Even in the face of that tyrant."

"No," she said flatly. "Eva could only do so much in her… position. But together, we would have taken you away to a place where he could never hurt you again." Charlotte's hand went unconsciously to his lower back, and even through his nightshirt her fingers found the raised skin that had healed, though she knew that there was still a part of his heart that had not.

Sighing, Alexander said, "I will tell you something that I have only told God, and I have told even Him with shame. I rejoiced when I heard my father died. I had not one ounce of remorse that he was gone."

Charlotte looked into his eyes. "That is only natural. But…"

"But what?" Alexander said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Charlotte chose her words carefully, knowing that she was on dangerous ground. "The only way to stop a tug-of-war, my love, is to let go of the rope. I say this because I have struggled with it myself. How can I so fully despise a man that I have never even met? He has hurt so many that I hold dear." She looked into her husband's eyes. "But if I let him live in my heart and create that black space, that is a part of my heart that is not available to love. And there is so much to love in the world."

Alexander rolled onto his back and gazed at the ceiling. "So you are saying I should forgive him?" Charlotte saw the immediate coldness that overtook him whenever he spoke of his father, and rather than daunting her, it gave her the courage to press on.

Raising herself up on her bent arm so that she could continue to look him in his eyes, Charlotte said softly, "Someday, perhaps, but it starts with compassion…"

"For him?" Alexander said. "He deserves no compassion from me!"

Charlotte sat up, cross-legged on the bed. "He deserves nothing from you, my love. Most especially not your dreams, your daily thoughts, your anger, your memory, your pain. It is what I saw in your eyes the first day I met you, though I was unable to understand what it was. He lives there in your head and your heart, still causing you to doubt yourself, still throwing that belt across your back." A tear fell down Charlotte's cheek, and then another, as she spoke. "He does not deserve the attention you give him."

Alexander saw her tears, and finally his love for her took dominion over his anger. He drew her into his arms and sighed heavily.

"How do I let go of it?" he asked softly.

Charlotte pulled away and put her fingers gently on his eyelids, closing them. "You are not Jonathan and I am not Abigail and this would never happen, but imagine how you would feel if we had a child and you could no longer reach me, touch me, have me in your bed. Imagine if suddenly my world revolved around a baby and there was no room in that world for you."

Her voice became even softer as she continued, "I believe your father, for all of his many faults, loved your mother with the same passion that you love me – but he did not have your patience, your ability to deal with change, your kind and compassionate heart. He was only able to express his feelings in anger and violence, in belittling others, in standing over them with a belt – but they were feelings nonetheless. Can you acknowledge the pain he was enduring, even as you feel nothing but hatred for the man?"

Alexander kept his eyes closed for a long time, and then opened them. "I have had moments of this understanding, when I thought I had lost you. Flashes of compassion for my father when my mother died giving life to Samuel. I could understand his inability to love my brother, but I never understood what I had done to cause such enmity."

"My love," Charlotte said, holding his face in her hands. "I do not for a second condone anything your father did. I simply ask you to find a measure of compassion, and let that be a pathway toward letting him go completely. You and Samuel have survived, both of you are such good men with fine intelligence and an endless capacity to love. Your father no longer holds sway over you, so I pray you do not continue to give him that power."

Alexander gazed into her eyes for a long time, and Charlotte allowed the silence. She could see his mind working, and she recognized the moment when his anger and hurt were overtaken by his intellect.

Alexander exhaled deeply and looked down. Then he nodded and sighed. "Easier said than done, but I can see very good sense in what you are saying."

He pulled Charlotte into his arms. "I told you once that I would be bereft without you, and it is more true every day that passes. I love you so deeply, and if this is how my father felt for my mother, then yes, it must have indeed been very hard for him."

Alexander touched his lips to hers, at first gently and then pressing closer. "I cannot even imagine… loving you this way and not having you near me, to talk with, in my bed…" he said with intensity, pulling her down with him. Their legs entwined, and with only cotton nightclothes between them it became clear that they suddenly had so much more on their minds than the breakfast that sat cooling on the table.

Charlotte felt his hand move under her nightdress and laughed softly. "I thought you were hungry," she said breathlessly.

"Starving," he said, his voice low in her ear.

Of course by the time Charlotte and Alexander managed to make their way over to the small table, the breakfast was not at the optimal level of heat, but the concierge had laid metal covers over the china plates for just that eventuality.

They had a few options – to wash and dress and go out to find breakfast, to let the concierge know that they had been… otherwise occupied… and needed another two meals, or to make do. Alexander lifted the metal cover and could see that all was not lost.

He took a tentative bite of the perfectly cooked omelet du fromage, and smiled. "Not too bad, actually. Still slightly warm." Looking over at the fireplace, he said, "I could attempt to heat it further, as I would in the wild over an open fire…"

Charlotte laughed and said, "I am certain it will be fine. I am so hungry at this point that I will not even notice the temperature."

After sitting down and unfolding her crisp white linen napkin, Charlotte took a bite of the fluffy omelet with cheese, and she closed her eyes and sighed. "How do the French manage even to elevate a simple egg to culinary excellence?" Then she looked at Alexander and raised her eyebrows. "Never tell Eva I uttered those words."

Alexander laughed. "Yes, she would have some choice words in return for you. She thinks the French spend far too much time dressing food in clothing it does not require." He took a sip of his coffee. "Do you know that there are exactly one hundred folds in a French chef's toque – their hat? The pleats are used to signify the number of ways he knows how to prepare eggs, and thus his level of experience. No matter the height of the toque, they all should have one hundred folds." He held up his fork and nodded. "That is how you create culinary excellence."

Charlotte shook her head, smiling. "You are the repository of more fascinating bits of trivial knowledge than anyone I have ever known. How on earth have you retained the Latin names of every animal, bird, insect, and reptile yet discovered, and still have had time to learn of the minutiae of French cuisine?"

"It is simple. I have a deep love for detail and for nature. And," he said, smiling across at her. "Before you walked into my study and turned my world upside down, I had far too much time on my hands. I would read books as if a man possessed…" His eyes softened. "...so that I would not have to notice how empty my life was."

Charlotte smiled. "And if the chaos evident at Heyrick Park for our wedding celebrations was any indication, those times are long past."

"And good riddance to them. I cannot tell you how fully I enjoyed having your family under our roof. The house needed to be brought back to life. I needed to be brought back to life," Alexander said, taking her hand across the table and holding it to his lips.

"I will be curious to see how you fare with Alice and Amelia added to the female population of Heyrick Park," she said, laughing softly. "I love them dearly, but they can be extraordinarily silly girls."

Raising an eyebrow, Alexander said, "I have complete faith in your abilities to show them a more serious and contemplative side of life. Until then, there is always Hannibal."

"Yes!" she said, nodding. "I shall always know where to find you when the giggles start."

Alexander buttered his toast liberally and scooped some fresh raspberry jam onto it from a small ceramic jar. He took a bite and sighed. "Delicious. It is my educated opinion that the key ingredient for the French is butter, and I am not certain how any dish can go wrong when that is the case."

Taking another bite, Charlotte said, "Well, I for one, intend to eat my way through Paris. Breakfast, lunch and dinner."

Alexander smiled. "I shall enjoy watching that immensely. Lucy never…" He stopped himself and sighed. "I am sorry. Our honeymoon is no place for the past…"

Charlotte reached out and put her hand over his. "No, my love. Your whole life is what I fell in love with, every minute of it. Whatever happened between you and Lucy, good and bad, helped to form you into the man who sits across from me. You married her, Alexander. You must have loved her once."

Sighing, he said, "I thought I did. But as I have told you, I had nothing with which to compare it. I know now that it was a combination of infatuation and doing what I believed was expected of me. Not a good start for a marriage under any circumstances."

"And you brought her here?" Charlotte looked down at her plate and toyed with a last piece of tomato. "For your honeymoon?"

Alexander looked horrified. "God, no! And in fact, we never had an official honeymoon. She had to parade me around every party and ball in London after we married, and by the time she had completed that arduous task, I needed to attend to the estate."

"So how did you find yourselves in Paris?" Charlotte asked without any emotion, as she was genuinely curious.

"A friend of Lucy's was celebrating a birthday here. I had never been, and there were so many places I wished to see and things I longed to do, but she was drawn like a moth to flame to the shops and to gossiping with her friends. I was left quite on my own and spent hours wandering the gardens of the Tuileries, walking the bridges on the Seine, and visiting museums. On the rare occasion that we found ourselves at a meal together, I was in awe of the dishes served, and she would sip on water, saying that she would fit into none of her new dresses were she to eat such rich food." Alexander sighed. "For a woman who wished to have all the best things in life, she denied herself everything. It was quite painful to watch."

Charlotte smiled and looked down at her empty plate. "Not a worry with me, obviously…" she said, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And I love it. I enjoy nothing more than watching you taking such large bites out of life." He walked around the table and pulled her into his arms. "And now, as we have essentially had breakfast for lunch, shall we go in search of lunch for dinner? I am of a mind to break all the rules there are." He kissed her roundly and then said, "Let us get dressed and venture out into the Parisian landscape, my love."

Charlotte graced him with a brilliant smile and made haste to the armoire. "I will not be a moment," she said, laughing, and now very glad of her new dresses.

Samuel and Marie had given Mrs. Wheatley a break from her duties with the girls by taking Augusta and Leonora on a horseback ride and a picnic to one of Samuel's favorite spots on the estate.

It was a grassy bluff that overlooked the ocean and it had hardy black pine trees growing right to the edge, their roots taking hold in the harsh combination of soil and sand, and their branches permanently blown backward by the salt-laden wind. They offered shade from the bright summer sunshine and a place to tether the horses — and of course Leonora had found a way to scramble up to the lowest branches with sandwich in hand.

"Augusta, throw me an apple, please?" Leo called out, and her cousin obliged.

Augusta closed her book and shook her head to Marie, "That child has all the skills of a monkey. It is my belief that she feels a need to climb anything and everything because she is shorter than everyone else. It gives her pleasure to look down on the tops of our heads."

"I can hear you," Leonora said, taking a large and loud bite from her apple.

Laughing, Augusta said, "I mean you to, cousin. I despair of us ever making a lady out of you."

"I have no wish to be a lady. I expect to be a scientist," Leo said, looking up and inspecting the tree for cones, hoping for some with the velvety soft pine nuts so prized by squirrels.

Marie smiled up at her. "You can be both, Leo. In fact, I would highly recommend it. Being a lady will open doors for you as a scientist. You will find it is highly advantageous to play the game."

Samuel laughed from his place on the blanket, looking up at the blue sky. "Ah, now the secrets come out. I should take picnics with the females of the family more often."

"What kind of doors?" Leonora asked, scrambling down from her perch. She settled in next to Marie, who, apart from Charlotte, Leonora thought the most beautiful woman she had ever seen.

Marie leaned closer to Leo. "You know, there are those who think being an actress is an unladylike profession, just as there are those who believe scientists should always be men. Not that long ago, all of the parts in a play, male and female, were performed by men because it was thought scandalous for a woman to be on the stage."

Always one to ask the most pertinent question, Leo said, "And how did it change?"

Smiling, Marie said, "We showed them that we could be both ladies and performers. And we never gave up." Marie looked out at the ocean and then back at Leo. "There have been women astronomers, chemists, naturalists, botanists and mathematicians since the beginning of time, but now they are being recognized as such." She pulled Leonora into a hug. "Just remember, you can be anything you want to be, but being a lady as well is not so bad, is it?"

"I do not like skirts. They get in the way. Britches are much better for almost every activity."

"Yes, and in the play that you will see tomorrow night, I wear breeches," Marie said.

Leonora's eyes went wide. "You do?"

"Yes," Marie said. "I play a woman who pretends to be a man so that she can be a lawyer and save the one she loves."

"Uncle Samuel is a lawyer," Leo said. "So women cannot be lawyers?"

Marie looked at Samuel and narrowed her eyes slightly, though she was still smiling. "Not yet. Women are not allowed to practice law."

Samuel sat up and put up his hands in submission. "If it were up to me, women would find a welcome home in advocacy," he said quickly. "God knows women have been practicing the art of lawyering, and doing it better than most men in my opinion, for as long as I can remember."

Marie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Which is why we are so compatible, my sweet. You are an enlightened man."

Leonora watched them closely, and then said, "Are you going to get married like Father and Mother?"

Augusta looked up from her book and said, "Leo! You do not ask questions like that!"

Frowning, Leonora said, "Why not?"

Marie and Samuel were silent, but looked at each other with gentle smiles. Marie said softly, "From the mouths of children…" and shrugged lightly at Samuel.

Samuel took a deep breath and gazed at her. Then he looked at Leonora. "I would say that it is a distinct possibility, Leo. We are negotiating…"

"You look beautiful," Alexander said, as Charlotte twirled in her new teal day dress. It was the simplest of the new ones he had commissioned with Madame Labarge, and she had to admit she felt beautiful in it.

"I love it," she said softly. She walked to him and tilted her head. "I do wonder, however, why you did not allow me to go to the modiste and choose my own dresses. The fact that you did not makes me feel slightly controlled, and you know that is not a state in which I prefer to be."

Alexander exhaled and grimaced. "I am surprised you've not mentioned it before this, and because I am not surprised, I have a well-thought-out answer prepared." He took her in his arms and held her lightly. "Because I knew that your tastes run to more classic and simple lines…" He held her away from him and looked directly in her eyes to make his point. "...Which are so breathtakingly lovely on you, and so much of who you are, and what I fell deeply in love with from the first moment you walked into my study…"

Charlotte smiled. "Yes, yes, that is the rehearsed part. Now to the 'but'…"

"But…" he said softly, kissing her cheek. "You would not have been likely to have chosen all the ribbons and bows and ruffles that are so much a part of French fashion. I wanted you to feel that our honeymoon was special, out of the ordinary – something that you would remember forever with happiness."

She moved closer. "I could spend the week in those sheets with you, wearing nothing, and our honeymoon would be special, out of the ordinary, and something that I would remember forever with happiness. Clothes do not make the man, or the woman…" She pressed her lips firmly on his.

Now it was Alexander's turn to feel slightly weak at the knees. He melted into her kiss, and had to admit he was sorely tempted to give in to Charlotte's version of the activities of the week. "Plans can always be changed… nothing is written in stone…" he murmured.

Charlotte laughed against his lips and threw her arms around him. "No, you are taking me out and showing me Paris. I would never forgive myself if I missed a minute of it."

Alexander nodded. "You will not be disappointed, my love. And I make you a solemn promise that I will never choose another article of clothing for you for as long as we both shall live," he said, holding her tightly.

"I love everything you chose. And you are correct in assuming I would have asked Madame Labarge for fewer flounces, so I will hold my tongue until we are on the boat going home, and for now, I will bow to your greater wisdom."

Alexander laughed and went to find his billfold. "And where was that Charlotte in our first days together? I was under the impression that she felt I had no wisdom at all in any matters of import."

Charlotte laughed too. "That Charlotte was terrified that she was in over her head with the stern Master, so she may have been slightly too forthcoming in her opinions."

"Never," he said, looking at her with soft eyes. "I did need teaching…"

She looked back at him, her eyes a mirror of his. "And I had so much to learn myself…"

They gazed at each other from across the room, and Alexander shook his head as if he was waking up again. "Right," he said, "We will have to stop doing that if we are ever to leave this room." He looked around. "I cannot remember where I put my billfold."

Charlotte went to the chair and picked up the jacket he was wearing the day before. She reached into the inside pocket and pulled out his wallet, holding it out to him with a smile. As she did, she noticed that an envelope had fallen out of his pocket, so she bent down and picked it up. She recognized the handwriting and could see it was a letter from Declan. "Oh, wonderful! Is there news of Alison? And how is Drew faring with Dr. Tristan…?"

Alexander crossed the room quickly, and gently took the letter from her. The look on his face was solemn, and she was suddenly frightened. "Alexander, what is it? Is there something wrong with Alison? The baby? You are scaring me."

Taking her hand and leading her to the bed, Alexander said softly, "No, Alison and Declan are fine, so is Drew. This letter concerns someone else, and I wished to keep the news from you until a time that was more appropriate." He looked into her eyes. "And I can see that time is now."

Alexander held out the letter and nodded, speaking gently. "Go ahead. Read it."

Charlotte opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper. It started with pleasantries and then moved quickly into the matter at hand. Declan said he would copy Captain Carter's account exactly so that the message would not be altered from its original:

"Although your days under the command of Colonel Francis Lennox came to an abrupt end and were marked with unfortunate discord, I have some news that may be of interest. I regret to inform you that word has reached me of Colonel Lennox's death in Rajputana in India after a particularly bloody battle with the natives there. Lennox did not die immediately from his wounds, but lingered as his men continued to fight despite being surrounded for many weeks. Although I am aware that there was no love lost between you and the Colonel, I venture to say that you would not wish this slow and painful death from infection on even your worst of enemies. Toward the end, the Captain under his command gave in to the Colonel's repeated pleas that he leave a loaded pistol by his side. Even so, it took him two more days to pull the trigger, but in the end, he died at his own hand."

Charlotte gasped as she read, and her hand flew to her mouth. Alexander tightened his arm around her shoulders and waited in silence for her to read it a second time. Finally, she sighed deeply and looked at him.

"I was not treated well by Colonel Lennox," she said softly, her face showing her distress. "But this end…" She exhaled and shook her head. "So horrible." Then she looked up at Alexander. "How interesting that I was just lecturing you on forgiveness, and now I am faced with the same challenge. I realize that I have placed him in a corner of my own mind that still has blackness in it. Not only for his actions toward me, but also you, and Sarah Kingsley, and even Lucy. He wronged so many." She leaned her head on Alexander's shoulder. "We will work on our forgiveness together, my love."

They sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts and watching the last of the logs burn in the fireplace. The largest one burned through and split, throwing sparks onto the hearth, and Charlotte took a deep breath. She turned to Alexander, and then looked out of the tall window that led out to the terrace.

"I should like very much to see Paris," she said softly. "We cannot bring back the dead, we can only live our own lives as fully as possible." She looked back at Alexander and said, "What are we doing today?"

Smiling, Alexander stood and put out his hand for her. "I thought we might follow the path of the yellow ribbon…"

Charlotte laughed and raised her eyebrows. "The Louvre to the Place de la Concorde. That is a lovely plan. Especially since we never managed to get past the Jardin des Tuileries the last time we attempted it." Her mouth curled into a smile.

"I promise not to be quite so distracted this time…" Alexander said. He looked at her and offered his arm. "Although you are still exceedingly distracting…"