As soon as Charlotte and Alexander returned to Sanditon from their honeymoon, life at Heyrick Park settled into a happy routine.

Charlotte's twin sisters Alice and Amelia were due to arrive from Willingden soon, but until then, Charlotte spent her days in the schoolroom with Leonora at her studies – although Augusta seemed to be a regular visitor upstairs with questions, and often stayed through a good portion of the lessons.

Charlotte could see that although Augusta felt herself to be much too old to have a governess teaching her, she appeared to enjoy, as she always had, exhibiting her own not unsubstantial knowledge on a wide variety of subjects, and so became a kind of co-teacher with Charlotte. But Charlotte could also see another aim in her visits, as Augusta's questions invariably involved some sort of animal husbandry, or an elucidation and expansion about a comment that Drew had made in one of his letters.

Augusta's entry to the schoolroom would usually begin with: "When you lived on the farm…?" and would then proceed to subjects such as why cows give more milk in the morning even if the milking intervals are equal – and Charlotte quickly began to realize that Augusta's interest went far beyond her desire to please Drew, and extended to her own growing fascination with the stories he told about animal instincts and intelligence.

So much so, that one day Charlotte had asked Augusta if she, herself, would be interested in veterinary science, and she had seen a flash of excitement in the younger girl's eyes.

Then the fire had died as quickly as it had appeared, as Augusta answered flatly, "I cannot. Women are not allowed."

"That is not an answer to my question," Charlotte said, smiling.

Augusta sighed. "Well, then, my answer would be yes," she said. She frowned slightly and continued. "But not strictly in the sense of healing animals or tending to them. I find that…" Augusta chose her words carefully, "...I want to know how they think, and how they know to behave in certain ways. For example, how does a bird know precisely how to build a nest? Or a spider spin a web that is so geometrically perfect and beautiful, and yet so deadly? How do horses know instinctively which humans will be kind to them, and which ones will not?"

Charlotte walked to the bookshelf and pulled down a volume. "I would begin with this. Aristotle shared your interest, especially in the adaptation of animals to their environments." She handed the book to Augusta. "You might also ask your uncle. Perhaps he can give you more information."

Augusta nodded and smiled. "Oh, I am certain that he can. Chapter and verse, no doubt." She gazed down at the book in her hand. "The truth is, I have been reluctant to ask him because I fear he will think it foolish of me. It is not as if I can simply apply to Oxford, or attend veterinary college. I am certain it would be more practical for me to learn to run a farm kitchen than to study the behaviors of field mice."

Charlotte took Augusta's hand to sit down with her. "You will spend your life being told what you can and cannot do, Augusta. And it is not just women who must contend with others wanting to limit them. Men, including your uncle, have been told what is and is not appropriate for their lives, practically from birth." She gazed into Augusta's eyes intently. "You must follow your heart and not let others set those boundaries for you. What you study does not have to be sanctioned by a University or a school. Books are free to all, and your time is your own." Charlotte tilted her head. "And perhaps you should give your uncle the benefit of the doubt. He has changed quite a bit from the man he was, as you well know."

Augusta smiled. "Yes, I do know. And it was wrong of me to put him into the category of those who would stifle me." She nodded. "I will talk with him."

Charlotte glanced at Leonora, whose attention was raptly focused on an ant farm that they had set up in a glass box. She smiled and said to Augusta, "You have a colleague in your fascinations." Taking Augusta's hand, Charlotte said, "By the time Leo is your age, more and still more opportunities will have opened for women." Turning back to Augusta, she said, raising an eyebrow, "We will be held back only if we allow ourselves to be."

Augusta reached out and enveloped Charlotte in a tight hug. "I shudder to think what this family would have been without you."

Charlotte returned her embrace tightly. "I shudder to think about my life without all of you." She took Augusta's face in her hands. "You are my sister and my friend. I will help you in any way I can." Then, smiling, she said, "Perhaps the bigger question is, how does Drew feel about your aspirations?"

Augusta beamed. "He says we will make first-rate partners."

Charlotte inhaled deeply, feeling immense pride in her younger brother. "I should have been disappointed in him if his answer were otherwise."

Starting to go, Augusta turned back. "When are the twins arriving? I believe I will take them on some nature walks with me, lest they spend morning, noon and night swooning over the dresses in your Paris wardrobe."

Charlotte laughed. "I should be so grateful, Augusta! They will be here in three days, and I know I shall quickly lose patience with their desire for gossip and pretty things. I was actually considering moving my honeymoon clothes to an empty wardrobe in the East Wing so they cannot find them."

Augusta laughed. "I fear that will not deter those girls. As we are speaking of animal instincts, Alice could find a ball gown wherever it hides. She has a sixth sense when it comes to finery!"

Nodding her agreement, Charlotte said, "Together we shall open their eyes to the rest of the world." She reached out her hand and she and Augusta shook on their pact.

As Augusta departed the schoolroom, Charlotte turned back toward Leonora. "Come, Leo. We must finish our sums before Mary arrives with Alicia and Henry for lunch."

Leonora turned and gave her the time-honored look of exasperation from pupil to teacher. "One minute more, Mother, please. I have followed one ant through nearly the entire maze. He has carried the piece of strawberry we put at the top all the way down. I want to see if he eats it!"

Charlotte leaned down to see where she was looking. "Ants are colonizers, Leo. That worker ant helps to provide food for others. If he were going to eat it, he would have done so at the source, where we left it."

Leo frowned. "So he must not be hungry, then." She turned and looked at Charlotte. "But I am suddenly hungry for strawberries. May we have some for lunch?"

Laughing, Charlotte said, "Yes, I will ask Mrs. Wheatley. But we must hurry with your sums now. Tell me, what are seven fifteens?"

"One hundred and five," Leonora answered quickly and then frowned slightly, wondering at the enigmatic smile on Charlotte's face. "That was correct, was it not?"

Charlotte tousled Leonora's hair. "Yes, that was absolutely correct. I simply had a pleasant memory. The very first day I met your father he asked me that question before addressing me in any way."

"That was an odd thing for him to do," Leonora said, in the serious and inquisitive manner that Charlotte so loved. "It must have been after he said hello at least."

Shaking her head, Charlotte smiled. "No, it was not. Those were the very first words he spoke to me." Thinking, Charlotte looked back at Leonora. "I do not believe he ever said hello to me throughout the entire conversation."

Leonora sat down at the work table. "That seems very rude to me. It is a wonder that you liked him at all," she said, bending her head to her mathematics book.

"Yes, Leo," Charlotte said, laughing softly. "I suppose it is."

"I would love another cup, Molly," Mary said to the serving girl. "With just a spot of honey, please."

Charlotte smiled and covered her teacup with her hand, and Molly took their empty plates back to the kitchen. The children had already finished and were running out to the trees.

Mary shook her head and laughed softly. "That little Leonora is fearless. She barely has her cast off and she is ready to scramble up a tree again. I have never been more terrified than when I heard that horrible thump and saw her lying on the ground." She dabbed at the corners of her mouth and laid the napkin on the table. "How did Dr. Fuchs remove the plaster? It looked to me as if she would have it for life!"

Charlotte watched as Turk and Luna jumped and played in among the children. "Turk did most of the work, I fear. He had gnawed it nearly through, and Dr. Fuchs had only to use some heavy shears to finish it off. I must say I am relieved not to be poking rulers and sticks in there to relieve the itching. I thought we should find her skin raw from it, but she is none the worse for wear."

"Modern medicine," Mary said, gazing at Charlotte. She narrowed her eyes slightly and asked, "Are you not hungry, Charlotte? You have hardly touched your fish."

Sighing, Charlotte said, "I had a bit of a bad reaction to the fish the other night, it seems. I was ill yesterday morning and this…"

Charlotte watched as a smile began to lift the corners of Mary's lips.

"I knew it," Mary said softly. "If anyone knows the look, I do, after four children."

Charlotte sat looking at her dumbly for a moment and then her eyebrows raised.

"When did you last have your courses?" Mary asked, leaning forward.

Her eyes darting back and forth, Charlotte remembered that she was worried they might come while they were in Paris, but then, they were so busy, she had quite forgotten. Now it was early July, and still they had not arrived, and she was one of the lucky ones who was as regular as can be. Her breasts had been tender recently when she and Alexander had made love, and she had been so sleepy at odd hours…

Charlotte's eyes went wide and her breath left her. "Oh, Mary," she said, her heart suddenly racing. "Oh, do you think? Can it be? So soon?"

Mary laughed softly. "You are a teacher, my dear. You know as well as anyone that it only takes once. And I assume it has been a few more times than once…"

Charlotte answered her with silence and a fiery blush.

Nodding happily, Mary said, "Well, it has been very clear to all that you and Alexander cannot bear to be out of touching distance, so I need not have asked." She took Charlotte's hands across the table. "May I be the first to congratulate you?"

Charlotte finally allowed her joy to escape, and she laughed. "A baby. I had not dared hope that it would happen so quickly!" She looked at Mary, still trying to catch her breath. "What do I do?"

Smiling, Mary said, "You tell your husband. Will he be as happy as you are?"

"Even more," Charlotte said. "He has worried that because Lucy never…" She looked up at Mary and frowned. "I should not have said that."

Mary squeezed her hands. "My sweet Charlotte. Friends do not speak of these things to anyone but each other. All of your secrets are safe with me." She laughed softly. "Believe me, I tell Tom as little as possible."

"Alexander wants children of his own so dearly. This news will bring him the greatest joy," Charlotte said softly. She looked at Mary again, her frown returning. "Should I wait to tell him until it is more certain?"

"Perhaps confirm it with Dr. Fuchs first, just to be sure all is well," Mary said. She smiled broadly at Charlotte. "I am no doctor, but I have not seen a healthier mother-to-be in quite some time. You are positively glowing, my dear."

Charlotte exhaled as the idea finally sunk in. "Dr. Fuchs is coming tomorrow to look at Leonora's wrist, to be sure it has healed properly. I will take him aside afterwards."

Molly brought out Mary's cup of tea and the two women went silent until she was back through the kitchen door.

As soon as she disappeared around the corner, Charlotte shook her head in wonder and said, "Mary! I cannot think. I want to tell the world! Not just a child, but Alexander's child. I love him so dearly…" A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and Mary stood to come around to the chair next to Charlotte.

Holding her tightly, Mary said, "Welcome to a world of blissfully confusing emotions, my girl. Simply let them all flow, as it does no good to fight them. You are growing a human being inside you and nothing will ever be the same."

Charlotte let go and allowed her emotions free rein. Her tears fell on Mary's shoulder as she basked in the most overwhelming euphoria she had ever known.

A child. Alexander's child. Made from their love.

Charles had all but taken over the sunroom in Georgiana's apartments, and she didn't mind in the least. She still had her drafting table with her pens and ink, and her window overlooking the long beach and out to sea, and she felt the rest of the room had been wasted space anyway. Now it was filled with easels and palettes and paints and jointed wooden figures and all manner of artist's paraphernalia, and it smelled of oil and pigment and Italian chalk gesso. Charles' paint-daubed shirts and trousers were draped over chairs and tables, and the room, for all intents and purposes, now resembled precisely the garret in Paris that Charles had occupied before returning to Sanditon.

If Georgiana had wanted to feel like an artist – and she had – this was the way there. She gazed around the room in pure satisfaction.

On a large easel in the corner sat the unfinished portrait of the Colbourne family. Stuck around the canvas were myriad sketches – primarily charcoal studies of the faces and hands of Alexander, Charlotte, Augusta and Leonora. There were a few of Luna and Turk, and some sweeping vistas of the lush gardens that they wanted as the backdrop behind them. To Georgiana, the painting looked to be nearly finished, and she could easily see the spirit of the family that emerged in the tilt of a head, the hint of a smile, and the focus of a pair of eyes.

Charles spoke as he always did when he was working, almost as if he were simply giving voice to the thoughts that ran through his head, low and muffled, abstract. "Yesterday, Leonora said she wished they could include their horses in the portrait, and as dearly as I love that little girl, I had to put my foot down. I refuse to become like that hack John Wootten painting chaotic fox hunts and glorifying the rich. I need authentic people and their emotions!"

He waved his brush in the air dramatically and Georgiana smiled as she saw yet another drop of hunter green join those already on the tile. The floor of the sunroom was taking on the quality of a painting itself, transforming organically into a melange of colors that she found very pleasing to the eye.

"And do you have them with the Colbournes? Authentic emotions?" Georgiana asked, although she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

Charles stepped back and nodded. "Oh, yes. I find that family endlessly fascinating, and the more I converse with them, the more I realize they have been through the fires of Hell and back and have emerged strong as tempered steel. The children are brilliant, and although they have experienced great loss, they are still loving, and are surprisingly open books. Augusta has just the trace of a rough edge melded with a kind of softness longing to escape, which makes her a lovely, complex subject." He moved forward to the canvas and pulled a brushful of paint into a tree as Georgiana looked on in wonder. Suddenly the light changed in the pine, as if it came from within.

"So… not preposterous people, are they?" Georgiana said, with a raised eyebrow and a slight glint in her eye.

Charles turned sharply and sighed. "Oh, my sweet Georgiana, can you ever forgive me for that outburst? Arthur finally has, thank God, though I fear Tom never will." He walked toward her with his hands together like a supplicant, still holding his paintbrush. "It was a terrible thing to say, and the worst part is that I did not even mean it. I saw them all standing there like a stone wall, protecting you – and realizing that my dream of us in Paris, doing precisely this…" He waved his hand around the sunroom, depositing another drop of paint to the tile, "...was dying, and part of me with it."

"You know I understand. I am only teasing you," she said, smiling at him.

"I adore that they were so protective of you. And my despair in that moment was that everything they said was true. The piece of the puzzle they did not have was that I had fallen hopelessly in love with you. I cared nothing for your money except that it might give both of us pleasure. And had it not existed, I would still have been wishing to take you to Paris."

Georgiana's smile widened. "And if I did not believe that, body and soul, I would not be meeting you at the altar of the church on Sunday. So I shall stop punishing you." She leaned up and kissed him tenderly. "Now back to your painting, and I will not continue distracting you."

Pulling her toward him, Charles said, "You are the best kind of distraction…" he moved to kiss her, and she held up her pen.

"But now you are distracting me," she said, laughing softly. She took hold of his chin and turned his head toward the ocean. "Look at that light on the water. It is sheer perfection, and I long to capture it."

Charles managed to steal one more kiss on her neck before he turned back to his painting. "I promised if you allowed me to share your space, I would not keep you from your work, so this is me, turning away," he said, his hands raised in surrender.

For a time, they worked in silence, with only the light scratch of Georgiana's pen and the whisper of Charles' brush against the canvas. And as ever, within moments Charles forgot his promise and began muttering again. It always made Georgiana smile.

"My only concern with Charlotte and Alexander is that the love they feel for each other will overpower the portrait." Charles turned to Georgiana and raised an eyebrow with a suggestive grin. "They cannot seem to keep their hands off each other."

Georgiana felt heat come into her cheeks at the picture that presented itself in her mind. It was never far from her thoughts that within a week she would have intimate experience of all that Charlotte had shared with her about the joys of married life. Although Charles had been a libertine in his life before professing his love to her, he had never once crossed the line with Georgiana beyond passionate kisses. He knew that she was still innocent, and had vowed that he would not tempt her into giving herself before they were married. Consequently, it was usually Charles who would push away at the end of the evening, firm in his resolve.

Georgiana sighed and looked out at the ocean. "Do you realize that next week at this time we will be husband and wife?" she said, a smile transforming her features beatifically.

Charles put down his brush and walked to her. "Now you are asking to be distracted," he said, lifting his chin with a smile. He circled her with his arms and she looked up at him, rubbing a small spot of paint on his cheek with her thumb. Pressing his lips to hers, Charles pulled her closer, feeling his need for her rise instantly. "Can you imagine that I am not counting down the minutes?" he said against her cheek.

"As am I," she said softly. "My happiness is complete… except…"

He pulled away and gazed into her eyes, seeing the familiar sadness that hid silently inside her smile. "Still no word back to Sam?" he said, tenderly brushing a curl from her forehead.

"He has had no answer," Georgiana said, laying her head on his chest. "Either she never received the letter, or she has chosen to ignore it. The third option, that she is no longer living, is one I refuse to countenance. I feel she is alive, Charles. I cannot explain it."

Sitting down on the stool next to her, Charles said, "And you have no need to explain it to me. As you are all too aware, I lost my parents by choice when they forbade me to become an artist. Until I am established, I will not subject them, or myself, to the endless round of arguments my choice of profession propels us into – but I still feel their presence in my life. I believe I would know as well if some tragedy had befallen them."

Georgiana tilted her head at him. "And you know my opinion on the matter. Mine is a forced separation. If I had the choice, nothing could keep me from my mother."

Charles exhaled. "One day, you and I shall take the long carriage ride up to Derbyshire and you will meet them. But as I have warned you, they are outrageous snobs. Once they learn that I have married the daughter of an out-of-wedlock union between a slave owner and his slave, they will know that my descent into madness is complete. The fact that you are extraordinarily brilliant, heartbreakingly beautiful, and have access to twice as much money as they will ever see in their lives, will likely send them over the ledge." Laughing, he shook his head. "It will not be my proudest hour, believe me, and I can only hope that you will forgive me for having come from such a terrible bloodline."

"I shall do my best to forgive all of you," Georgiana said, laughing with him. Then her eyes narrowed slightly, and she looked out to the sea. "I, of all people, know that we are not our parents. From all I have heard, Jonathan Colbourne was irredeemable." She turned back to Charles and smiled. "Though he did manage to have two very admirable sons."

Charles reached out his hand and caressed her face. "What a pair of mongrels we are. Parentless and counting ourselves lucky to be adopted into the generous families of Sanditon. He looked back at the portrait. "Truly wonderful people. Not in the least preposterous."

Smiling affectionately, Georgiana leaned forward and kissed him gently. "And you are still in agreement about the voyage to St. John?"

Charles smiled. "Where you go, I will follow," he said softly. "And you know that to visit a part of the world I have not yet seen is my heart's desire. My only worry is that you will be disappointed, but I understand absolutely your need to know."

"There is a ship coming in from the islands tomorrow and leaving on Tuesday. I have spoken to Arthur, and he will stay here with Rosie while we are gone."

Charles nodded. "Then I had better get this painting finished," he said, looking back at the canvas on the easel. He smiled, enjoying its prospect from across the room. The majority of the work had been done, and now only the details needed to be filled in. Alexander stood behind Charlotte's chair, with Augusta to his right and Leonora on the grass in front of him with Turk and Luna.

There was no stiffness in the scene, something that Charles felt passionately should never be present in his work – instead, each figure moved fluidly to the next, Alexander's hand resting gently on Charlotte's shoulder, and she leaning slightly down to touch Luna. Leonora was laughing as Turk's upraised head brushed her face, and Augusta gazed down at her cousin with a sweet smile and an outstretched hand. It was as if they had been caught in a moment, and the pride and love Alexander felt for his family showed clearly in his contented hint of a smile.

Behind them was glorious nature, with the abundant trees of Heyrick Park and the hedgerows in the distance. Flower beds surrounded them in the colors of spring.

Charles gazed at the detail that he had just completed, which had been added by firm request of Charlotte Colbourne in private and would come as a surprise to her husband when he saw the finished portrait.

In her hands, resting on a book, she held three cornflowers – bright blue with promise.

Sarah gazed over the railing of the ship into the darkness and pulled her thin coat tightly around her. She was chilled to the bone in the winds of the Atlantic after having spent more than twenty-one years in the tropical heat of the islands. They were not supposed to be this far north, but the crossing had been much more difficult than was anticipated, and in truth, they had been glad to be in sight of Ireland after the rough seas they had encountered.

She was grateful they were finally safe, but Sarah knew she was not going to make it in time for the wedding. The ship had been scheduled to arrive with plenty of time for the carriage ride from Plymouth Harbor to Sanditon, but it had been blown off course badly. They would need to follow the coastline of Ireland and around the point to the English Channel, which would take three days more than they had planned. She would arrive on Tuesday at the earliest.

Over the course of an unpredictable life Sarah had learned to endure disappointment, and she continued to tell herself that three days, after seven years of separation, was of little consequence – but she had so longed to see her beautiful daughter walk down the aisle of a church toward the man she loved, to hear her say the words that Sarah had never said.

Yet as the wind blew through her hair, she kept telling herself that she was so close, so close, to holding Georgiana in her arms again, and it would not matter if it was Miss Georgiana Lambe or Mrs. Charles Lockhart she held.

Before making her way back down to her cabin and the warmth of her bed, Sarah sent out a prayer, knowing it had a much shorter distance to travel now. She prayed for her daughter's happiness, and for a perfect day for her wedding. She would not be there in body, but her spirit would be with her, now and for the rest of her life.

Journal Entry:

Friday 20th July 1821

I am overflowing with joy, and I believe I may be due some accolades of the sort that Marie is given for her performances, as I have spent the afternoon in my husband's company and have not yet told him what I am bursting to share. I am waiting until tomorrow after I talk with Dr. Fuchs and he confirms what I already instinctively know – that I am with child.

It seemed not coincidental that we received the most wonderful news in a letter from Susan today. She had tea with Lord and Lady Babington recently and not only is little George thriving under their care, but the great surprise of the season is that Esther is expecting. Susan says it is often the way that once a couple relaxes into happy parenthood, nature feels free to take its course.

I watched Alexander's smile blossom as he read the letter aloud to me and it took every ounce of my resolve not to disclose the news. The only concern holding me back was the slight possibility that Mary and I may have it wrong, and seeing his elation turn to disappointment might be more than I could bear.

So I shall wait until tomorrow – and as I look across the bedroom at my sweet Alexander while he reads his book, I am scarcely able to contain my love for him. He does not notice that my hand rests lightly on my stomach, as I wonder at the presence within. Mary's words this afternoon traveled directly into my heart, where they found a true home. The moment she uttered them, I knew of their veracity. Dr. Fuchs will simply be a confirmation.

And now I will put down my pencil and blow out the candle. I will walk across the room to Alexander and fit myself neatly under his arm. If I am not mistaken, we will make love – I with my extraordinarily precious secret, and my dear husband, who shall hear the happiest of news tomorrow.

Charlotte stood and smiled at Alexander, unable for a moment to move. He lay easily on what had now become his side of the bed in only his nightshirt, with his bare legs crossed at the ankle and his head propped up on his pillows. He had a habit of toying with his hair when he was deep in concentration, and the arm that he had flung over his head gave access to the curls that always rested wildly on his forehead after his bath.

If she remarked on it, he would probably not even know that he was doing it, but she would never say it for fear of making him self-conscious, as she loved the rhythmic play of his fingers against the dark of his hair.

As she stood there, in the way that people who are very connected to each other do, Alexander felt her watching him, and he lowered his book. "You are studying me," he said softly, a smile playing on his lips. Closing his book and putting it on his nightstand, he said, "Come here where you will be able to see me more clearly."

Charlotte walked toward him slowly and stood next to the bed. She had the realization that her body was already altering, and it might never be the same as it was in this very moment. She had no fear of the changes that bringing a child into the world would effect on her, as she was not ruled by vanity, but something compelled her to lift her shift over her head so that Alexander would have a memory of her precisely like this.

The movement took his breath away, the suddenness of it, her abandon and trust, and he sat up and reached his arms around her, laying his head on the soft skin of her stomach and closing his eyes. Charlotte put her hands into his hair, holding him close. He did not know in this moment that he was so near to his son or daughter, and at once she knew she could not wait another instant.

"I believe I am with child," she said softly.

His head snapped up and his eyes searched hers, filling almost immediately with tears. He was having trouble speaking as thoughts ran rampant through his mind.

"I will see Dr. Fuchs tomorrow to confirm it, but I feel it. A part of me knows it is true. I was going to wait to tell you, but…"

Alexander stood and took her into his arms, holding her tightly. She felt him take a shuddering breath. "I have wondered," he said. "I have hoped and then not dared to hope…"

Charlotte laughed. "Hold back just a bit of that hope until tomorrow. I should have waited…"

Now Alexander laughed with her. "No! We will take whatever comes, but just the idea of it…" He leaned down and kissed her, his hands roaming over the softness of her skin, and as always, his desire rose unbidden. He began to lift her onto the bed and then stopped, his eyes searching hers. "Should we… Are we able…?"

Nodding, Charlotte climbed up onto the bed and pulled him down with her. "I certainly hope you are not expecting me to stay out of your arms for the next seven months, my love."

Exhaling, Alexander smiled and said, "Torture…" His lips found hers again and only left them for the space of time it took for him to remove his own nightclothes. Holding her close, he whispered fervently, "Oh, God, can it be true? I love you, Charlotte, so completely…"

Against his lips, she murmured, "And before you know it, you shall have another to love." She moved closer, realizing that she had never felt so beautiful or so in tune with the world. "We both will."