A Star Danced

by Carolina Nadeau

She's pregnant, carrying her first child - but also her third - but still her first. Five emotions Truly experiences throughout the ups and downs of her first pregnancy.

Then there was a star danced, and under that was I born.

- Beatrice, Much Ado About Nothing (2.1.710)

xxx

Uncertainty

The word "mother" means something different to Truly Potts now than it always had. After all, she'd become a mother to two school-age children before she'd ever felt a kick inside her or given birth or held an infant to her breast - as a matter of fact, she'd become a mother before she'd ever even gone to bed with her husband.

Really, she isn't even quite old enough to be her children's natural mother, as she would have been all of seventeen when the twin eight-year-olds were born - old enough for it to be physically possible, yes, but she couldn't even fathom having been a married mother at such a tender age, especially considering her upper-class upbringing.

Truly hasn't really consciously thought of all this as strange until the day the village doctor confirms that she's pregnant, carrying her first child - but also her third - but still her first. She knows she's far from the first woman to be in this situation, but that doesn't change how disorienting it feels.

Even if it's difficult for her to find the correct words for her circumstances, though, that doesn't really matter. All that matters is that she's elated, so utterly, glowingly happy that even as she drives home through a cold January flurry, she can't keep the smile off her face, can't hide for a moment that she's just received the most wonderful news in the world.

Though they hadn't been trying to conceive as such, Caractacus and Truly had discussed their fond hopes for more children together a few times, especially when furnishing the new house, and certainly they'd both been well aware that they were doing nothing to prevent it from happening - and plenty to cause it.

In an attempt to shield herself from any potential disappointment, Truly had assured both her husband and herself that she'd still be perfectly happy if she were unable to ever have any children of "her own", that she was blessed enough to be a mother to Jeremy and Jemima, and she'd meant it. But, well, if she were perfectly happy before, then now she's even happier than that. That's something she's learned about both happiness and love since meeting Caractacus and the children - just when it seems it can be no greater, it still continues to grow and grow and grow.

When she makes it home, she finds him in the garage, doing some winter maintenance on Chitty's engine, and part of her wonders if she ought to tell him in some sort of special way, but her joy is bubbling over in her heart and she doesn't think she can bear to wait.

(When she thinks back on how he'd proposed to her, well, it seems fitting that in this moment, she could do nothing but blurt it out.)

"Darling, darling - oh, do be careful, mind your head - I just came from the doctor and - I'm having a baby! We're having a baby!"

Somehow, although he's already out from underneath the car, Caractacus nearly manages to hit his head again. Pure joy lights up his handsome face, those marvelous blue eyes sparkling, and he springs to his feet, nuts and bolts scattering across the floor.

"A baby? Oh, Truly, I hoped so, but I didn't - I didn't dare to believe it - a baby!" Caractacus sweeps her up in his arms - he's so ecstatic that he hasn't even taken the time to wipe the grease from his hands as he usually does before he touches her, and she's surely going to need to spend a long time laundering this overcoat, later, but in a moment like this, she doesn't even care. "Oh, sweetheart, you're a marvel. Every time I think that I couldn't be happier, that I couldn't love you more, you go and prove me wrong."

She beams at him, wondering how she ever managed to find a love as true and beautiful as this after all those lonely years of rejecting stuffy suitors. "You know, I was thinking the very same thing."

Then he's kissing her, over and over and over, as she clings to him tightly, all wrapped up in his arms where she belongs, the winter chill dissolving completely as his caresses flood her body with warmth. As they return to the house with their arms wrapped around each other, he's talking about decorating a nursery, about how he hopes the baby has her hair, her nose, her singing voice, and Truly feels like she's floating on a cloud of candyfloss. Dreams can come true, and they do - every day of her life has been one dream come true after another ever since she met this peculiar, handsome, wonderful genius of a man.

And then all at once it comes, the anxiety that creeps over her and makes her stomach flip-flop, pulling her out of her delirium of perfect happiness.

Jeremy and Jemima.

They love her so much, and they'd wanted her to be their mother so dearly that there had been no conflict in settling into that role, never even a moment where she'd worried that they might reject her. But do they want this? Have they even considered it as a possibility? She's terrified of making them feel betrayed or displaced or like their lives are changing in a way they'd never wanted.

Truly never, ever wants to disrespect Mimsie's memory, but it's also true that the children don't remember their birth mother, have never called anybody else "mum" except, perhaps, in baby-talk that they can't possibly remember. As far as Jeremy and Jemima are concerned, Truly is their mother, and in turn she considers them her children without prefix or qualification. They take great enjoyment in calling her "mum" and "mummy", though on certain occasions, they do still call her "Truly" and she doesn't object as long as it's done affectionately, which it always is.

None of them like using the term "stepmother", so they never do. Something about it seems so removed, so... reluctant, almost. As if she hadn't accepted the children into her heart and life as enthusiastically as she had her husband.

But a natural child of her own will inevitably complicate that relationship, won't it? Even now, she wonders if it's wrong of her, if she should feel guilty for being so overjoyed at the idea of a baby she and Caractacus have made together, at the prospect of seeing her own eyes looking back at her from the face of her sweet infant. But no, hadn't he been talking that way just a few minutes ago? There can't be anything wrong with it, then, surely - she'd never love her natural child more than the twins, of course - but what if they thought she would? Perhaps the balance that they've struck, happy and harmonious as it is, is too delicate to withstand such a change.

Letting out a little cry, Truly grabs her husband's hands, the smile falling from her face for the first time in over an hour.

"Do you think Jemima and Jeremy will be happy about this? Might they be upset? Caractacus, I just couldn't bear it if this came between me and them!" Tears come easily lately, too easily, and soon she's burying her face against his shirt as her eyes spill over. "I've never known anything as happy as our dear little family, and if I - if I ruin that - "

Though he's clearly startled and alarmed at first by her outburst, Caractacus, ever-attentive to her needs, hugs her even closer and pulls her down to the sofa with him, rubbing her back in soothing strokes. "You know, I have no way of knowing what they're going to think. But I do know that those kids see you as nothing less than their mother. As they should, because you are! And sometimes, mothers have more babies and children end up with little siblings... I don't see why it should be any different just because of the way our family came together."

"It might seem different to them," she answers in a small voice.

"They love you so much, Truly. And I love you so much. Nothing bad is going to happen, you'll see." Pulling his handkerchief from his pocket, he gently, tenderly wipes her tears and then kisses her forehead. "When have Jeremy and Jemima ever shied away from the prospect of an adventure, after all? And you know, it may surprise you, what those two have on their minds. Until we met you, I hadn't even realized how badly they wanted a mother - turns out they talked about it all the time, only when I wasn't around!"

Though she's just barely managing to hold back tears, she smiles fondly at the thought of that, and thinks of all the sweet, loving, adorable things the children have said to and done for her, though she's been their mother for just over half a year, even counting the three months where it was unofficial. The birthday cards, the handmade Christmas gifts, the drawings, wildflower bouquets, the acrostic poem Jeremy wrote, drowsy Jemima falling asleep with her head on her shoulder, bedtime prayers in which they thank God for her... and the sweet little song they always sing.

Honest, Truly, you're the answer to our wishes!

It's comforting to remember these things, and yet it's also a reminder of just how much she stands to lose if they take the news badly, so she can't settle her nerves with memories alone.

"Do you think we could... tell them today? Oh, I know it would be more traditional, even wiser, to wait until the baby quickens, but I don't think I'll be able to rest easy until I know how they feel about it." She sighs, pressing a hand to her belly. "And I'm sure it wouldn't be good for the baby for me to worry about this for months ..."

"It wouldn't be good for you, either," he adds, a crease forming in his brow. "I can't stand to see you worrying like this, especially on a day that ought to be so happy. We'll tell them once they get home from school, how about that?"

Grateful for his compassion even if he may not be able to fully understand her fears, Truly snuggles up against her husband's side. "And I'll only have to worry for a few hours, because everything - "

"Everything will come right," he finishes, giving her a gentle, comforting smile and a warm kiss as he brushes strands of her hair from her forehead. "It always has for us, and it always will. Is there anything I can do to help take your mind off it, until then?"

Truly considers this for a moment, wondering if she'd feel better with some tea or toast or a warm blanket or a book.

Then she remembers a few minutes ago, just before she'd allowed herself to spoil her own mood. The way they'd barely been able to carry on their conversation because he couldn't stop kissing her, how he'd stroked her face and her hair and gazed at her in awe like she was the loveliest, most precious thing he'd ever seen, how beautiful and blissful and beloved she'd felt and how ready she'd been to melt right into his arms.

Now she winds her arms around him and breathes in the familiar masculine scent of him and oh, she knows exactly what will help free her from her overthinking. Or any thinking, in fact.

Cheeks flushing, she gives him a sly little smile. "Take me upstairs?"

xxx

Hours later, when they sit side-by-side across from the children in the parlor and share the news with them, Truly is gripping Caractacus' hand so tightly that she's sure she must be hurting him a little. But, strong and steady, he holds her hand anyway, the other arm wrapped around her waist. He doesn't believe that there's anything to worry about, and that gives her courage, but she still won't believe she's in the clear until she hears it for herself.

Jemima is the first one to speak in response. Her first reaction to finding out that she's going to have a new baby brother or sister is an inscrutable, wide-eyed "Really?" The twins turn to look at each other, and Truly holds her breath, feeling almost faint.

And then, almost at the same instant, they leap up and run to her sides, flinging their arms around her, and Jemima plants a sweet kiss on her cheek.

The burden that lifts from her heart feels almost physical, and she takes in a gasping lungful of air. She could cry from sheer relief, and even now she feels a few tears threatening to fall, though the last thing she wants to do at this moment is alarm or confuse the children.

"A baby! Wow!" cries Jeremy.

Jemima is practically bouncing up and down, hands clasped behind her back. "We were wondering if you'd have a baby! Because you and Daddy got married, and when a lady is married, she has a baby."

Truly blushes slightly as she comes to the abrupt realization that within a few years or possibly sooner, it will be her responsibility to explain to Jemima all about the mysteries of womanhood and the conception of children. Imagine, when she'll still be only a few years removed from being a maiden herself! But as much as it makes her cringe, she resolves that when the time comes, she must do the opposite of what her mother had done and be honest and frank.

Anyhow, there is no need to worry about any of that now, because Jemima seems perfectly content in her childish understanding of the situation and Jeremy adds nothing further on that topic.

Instead, Jemima has already moved on to new revelations: "Remember when I told you about how we used to write letters to Father Christmas, asking him if he could bring us a mum? You came to us in the summer, so I don't think that had anything to do with Father Christmas. But this year, now that we have a mum of our own, I wrote him a letter asking for a baby sister!"

She can't help it - Truly dabs at her eyes, heart spilling over with emotion, and when she looks at Caractacus, she sees that his are glistening, too.

"It's almost February now, so I don't think Father Christmas has anything to do with this either," Jeremy notes, laughing.

Kneeling down to their level, Truly squeezes her children tightly in her arms, then pulls back to look at them. "Well, now, we don't know if this baby is a sister or a brother for you, and we won't know until he or she is born. But I do know that you two are going to be the very best big brother and big sister that any child could ask for."

Caractacus kneels down to wrap all three of them in a big bear hug of his own, and she laughs as pure delight and relief overflow in her heart. She's not going to lose the children's love, he was right all along - on the contrary, she'll be gaining even more. She reaches over and gives Caractacus' hand a squeeze as the children chatter excitedly about the baby, and once again, Truly is floating on candyfloss clouds and looking forward to a rosy future.

xxx

Desire

Around the time her morning sickness stops and the first buds of spring are opening, Truly finds herself flushed with energy and vigor, more than what she knows how to do with.

She can't really be certain, but it seems that pregnancy has made her even more insatiable for her husband. Which is saying something, considering that, the majority of nights since they were wed, they've fallen eagerly into each other's arms almost as soon as the twins have gone to sleep, and they've spent plenty of days yawning in a haze of pleasant grogginess from staying up so late to make love the night before.

Caractacus has his inventive mind and creativity, and Truly has her lively, bold spirit, and combining all that with the intensity of the love and trust and passion they share, it's, well. Explosive, in the best possible way.

It's all so much more than she could have imagined as a maiden, in every sense of the word - even as she'd nervously but ardently longed for their wedding night, she couldn't have possibly known that lovemaking could be so deliciously, divinely wonderful, or that there were so many, well, ways. Some of which are quite unconventional indeed, and sometimes she's still shocked at herself when she thinks about the things she's now happily willing to do as they express and explore their passion for each other. For one thing, she's learned how to please him just as... creatively as he's pleased her ever since their wedding night. But none of it makes her feel ashamed, none of it ever makes her feel like less of a respectable lady or wife or mother. No matter how forward or daring she's been, Caractacus always holds her afterward just the same, strokes her hair and gazes at her in awe and gives her the gentlest, warmest smiles while they talk and drowse and whisper sweet nothings.

When she thinks of all the loveless, passionless marriages she's seen amongst members of the upper class, Truly can hardly believe how lucky she is.

But lately it seems like even that isn't enough for her.

Before, no matter how much she craved for him to make love to her, she could at least be patient. Now she pulls him back to bed almost every morning, dares him to make love to her all over their spacious home when the children aren't around, in the kitchen and the washroom and the parlor and, on one thrilling occasion, outdoors - in a location far more secluded than their favorite hilltop, of course.

(Ever since their honeymoon, she's learned that he actually likes it when she's a little imperious, a little... bossy. It isn't the sort of thing she'd ever imagined saying to her husband, but it seems to positively thrill him when she looks him in the eyes and gives him a firm "Now.")

Desire constantly hums like electricity under her skin, and day and night, she craves him until it drives her to distraction. She'd almost worry about being too demanding, if he weren't so obviously enjoying this effect of pregnancy just as much as she is.

One day, Truly locks the doors and then practically pounces upon Caractacus in his workshop - it's not the first time they've ever made love there, but certainly the first time she's shamelessly seduced him away from his work in the middle of the day, and despite his dedication to his inventions, he doesn't need much convincing. The wicked thrill of it only makes it even more exhilarating, and when it's all over, they slump down together in a satisfied stupor against the wall they'd used for support, Caractacus cradling her in his arms to keep her dress from getting too dusty on the floor.

They sit entangled like this for a few minutes, catching their breath and dreamily kissing and cuddling and restoring their clothes to decency - they hadn't removed any more garments than necessary to accomplish the act in the first place, so this wasn't too difficult to do - and then suddenly, he startles her by exclaiming: "That's it!"

After leaping to his feet with her still in his arms, he sets her down gently on the rocking chair attached to one of his more outlandish creations.

Truly stares after him, round-eyed and still dazed with pleasure. "Caractacus?"

He runs right over to the invention he'd been working on before she'd interrupted him, that electric tea kettle he's been talking about ever since their honeymoon, and does a few things that her eye isn't trained enough to catch - swaps a few metal pieces around, twists some circular component around several times. He plugs the device into an electrical outlet and flips a switch, and after a short time, the kettle, completely independent from any stove or heating device, whistles as it blows out a billow of hot steam.

Caractacus claps his hands, runs his fingers through his already-mussed hair, lets out a whoop of joy. "Look! I've got it! It works! The Potts Teapot really works!"

"Oh, darling, I knew you could do it! It's brilliant!"

She rushes to his side and pulls him in for a hearty kiss, heart brimming with love and pride. He's wanted this so badly even since the day he had his first great success and they became engaged - to invent something highly practical and useful, a modern convenience that would be found in every household in England and beyond. This is surely it, exactly the discovery he'd been hoping for, and Truly is certain that it will be far from the last. She knows that, in that cloud of steam, he's seeing their family's entire future of continued prosperity and his legacy as a legitimate inventor, and she's incredibly awed and honored to have been present for such a moment.

All of a sudden, as she wobbles on her still-quivering legs and smooths her rumpled skirts, the absurdity of this situation dawns on her, and she bursts into a fit of giggles.

Bemused but clearly charmed, Caractacus wraps his arms around her from behind, giving her a playful squeeze and kissing her hair. "Well, it's been a long time since you laughed at one of my inventions, hasn't it, Miss Scrumptious? What's so funny about it?"

She turns to him with twinkling eyes. "Were you able to find the inspiration you needed to do that because we...?"

It takes just a moment for him to catch her meaning, and then he joins her in laughter. "You know, we should do this more often to test that theory."

In between pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of her neck, Caractacus explains all about how and why he developed the internal heating element for the kettle, and Truly hangs on his every word even when she finds his jargon almost impossible to follow. There's something so beautiful about his mind and the way it works, and it feels like such an honor to be welcomed into his work and his process this way - she supposes other eccentric geniuses might have shut their wives out when on the verge of some great discovery, but never her genius. It's an unusual type of intimacy, for sure, but it's theirs, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

xxx

Perspective

Lady Scrumptious has never been anything but kind to Jeremy and Jemima, but if anybody is insistent on preserving the delineation between child and stepchild, it is her. Still, to her credit, it's not as if she mentions it much, and certainly not to the children's faces. It's only natural that Lord and Lady Scrumptious should be thrilled at the prospect of their first grandchild related by blood, but still, Truly watches her mother with suspicion, worried that she'll make an uncouth slip that will make the twins feel inferior. Thankfully, it never comes.

On a spring day, as Truly sits with Caractacus on the lawn of the grand manor house that was once her home, visibly pregnant and the object of much doting, she feels as if she is in on some private joke, unable to keep from thinking about the advice her mother had attempted to give her about the conception of children. Does Mother have any idea that her longed-for grandchild was conceived in great happiness, and entirely incidentally? Could she even fathom such a thing?

But if she really thinks about it, Truly feels sad for her mother these days. She understands that there had been no malice in Mother's attempt at a pre-wedding-night talk - she was simply trying to communicate what she knew from her own experiences, and it's terrible to think that a woman twenty-seven years married apparently has no idea what a joy marriage could really be. Her parents' marriage had been arranged - a fate that Truly suspects she'd narrowly avoided for herself if she hadn't found Caractacus just when she did - so it's understandable why Lady Scrumptious had only ever experienced marital intimacy as a rather awkward duty to be tolerated.

She wishes she could help her mother, somehow. She wishes she could tell Mother what she knows now, that it doesn't have to be like she said, that it shouldn't be, that there are marvelous things that a woman can experience with her husband that are far, far more than merely sentimental. But of course there's no way she could possibly say such a wildly improper thing to her own mother, for so many reasons. And if she somehow did and her mother believed it and took it to heart, well, what would come of that anyway? Some things are better left alone.

Truly can only be grateful that she'd broken that cycle by choosing love for herself. Her own daughters - Jemima and any that she carries in her own womb - will be raised to know that marriage is a blessing and a delight in all ways, meant to be undertaken for love and not for duty.

As she sips pink lemonade on the swing and leans her head on her husband's shoulder and watches Jeremy and Jemima run and play in the beautiful gardens of the estate - and imagines their future little siblings playing alongside them in a few years - Truly reflects that, though she'd have eloped with Caractacus in a heartbeat had her father disapproved of the match, even if there had been no contract, no newfound fortune, she's so very grateful that things worked out the way they did, because the Potts family will never, ever want for love, happiness, or comfort. It's just the sort of fairy-tale happily-ever-after she's always dreamed.

xxx

Helplessness

She can't stand it when the size of her belly starts to limit her mobility. She knows it's only temporary, but Truly hates the feeling of being trapped, losing any amount of the wonderful freedom that she's enjoyed ever since she stepped down from her golden pedestal to become a member of the Potts family.

Caractacus and the children wait on her hand and foot, and happily so, but there's something disheartening about it. She's never wanted to be waited on, and she'd never liked it, and while it's far better to have her loving family at her beck and call rather than servants from whom she'd always felt guilty about asking too much, it still feels unpleasant to be so helpless.

Being able to go where she wanted, when she wanted, thanks to her motorcar and her sheer stubbornness, had been one way she'd been able to escape living entirely under her parents' thumbs and exert some measure of control over her own life. Nowadays, she has no desire to escape any aspect of her life, but she's limited in her ability to enjoy the kind of spontaneous adventures and family outings that had taught her what real happiness and fulfillment could feel like ever since the day of their first impromptu picnic.

Now that she has to plan out her every move so carefully and always rely on others, it's positively galling. She reads a lot these days, tries her hand at writing stories and practices her sketching and painting, but it doesn't make up for not being able to fully participate in her family's delightful antics.

When they go on a picnic to the seaside and this time she can only watch while Caractacus runs and plays with the children, she breaks down crying.

While Jeremy and Jemima take a break to unpack the picnic hamper, Caractacus notices her distress, always attuned to her expressions and disposition even from several yards away, and he rushes to sit down on the blanket beside her without making too obvious of a commotion.

"Truly? What's the matter?"

Just having him near her brings a little happiness back to her heart, jumbled up as her emotions are. "Promise me once the baby's born, everything will be the same again. I mean, I know we'll have a baby to take care of, and it will all be different, but..." She laughs through her tears in self-deprecation, embarrassed at her contradictory ramblings. "Oh, I don't know. I just always want to be able to have fun with you and the children, the way I can't today. I don't want to lose any of this because I've had a baby."

Caractacus wraps his arms around her and holds her tight - he's still damp from the ocean, and, just like the very first time they came here, she's not even wearing a bathing costume, just one of her billowy summer dresses, but she really doesn't care at this point.

"Truly, you could never, ever lose any of this," he assures her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Having a baby won't change who you are, or who you are to us. I never want you to be anything less than that woman I fell in love with as I watched you let your hair down and run laughing along the beach, even if you can't do that today. You're our children's favorite playmate and my best friend, along with being my sweet wife and their mother and the love of my life."

Her eyebrows shoot upward, something sparking up in her heart. She tries not to draw attention to what he's just said, doesn't dare to ask what he meant by it - he's called her every wonderful term of affection under the sun, but he's never called her the love of his life before this moment. Truly knows that he loves her with all his heart, of course, just as she loves him, but she's never really expected him to say anything like that, all things considered, and it's so warm and beautiful that she almost starts crying all over again, this time out of joy. She manages to contain herself, but her eyes do start to glisten.

(He always says he's not good with words, but when he's talking to or about her, she begs to differ.)

It's unclear if he could perceive the whirlwind of emotions she's just experienced in the space of a few seconds, but he does give her hand a sweet, lingering kiss before he continues.

"Soon enough you'll be able to do everything again - it'll happen before you know it, I promise. That baby of ours is going to spend a lot more time living outside of you than inside!" He leans in closer, his voice conspiratorially low, even though nobody else is around and the twins are obviously too far away to hear a thing. "And, well, there are ways to make sure that it's a few years, or as long as you'd like, really, before we have another."

Truly draws in a deep breath to calm herself and lets out a shaky, relieved sigh. How lucky she is to have such a scientifically-knowledgeable husband! But then another thought occurs to her, and she whispers: "When you speak of this - prevention - you do mean that we could still make love? Whenever we'd like?"

He rubs the back of his neck as he often does when he's mildly flustered. "Yes, of course. Otherwise - "

"Otherwise - "

They say it at the same moment, and it causes them both to break into laughter, neither one even needing to complete that sentence to convey their meaning. It's one of her favorite things about sharing her life with Caractacus, the way they can almost finish each other's thoughts, the unspoken communication and perfect understanding they share, in speech and in silence.

Thankfully, Jeremy and Jemima hadn't seen Truly cry, but they still seem to have a way of sensing that she needs cheering up. They bring her as many seashells as they can find, and build their sandcastles around where she's sitting so she can join in. Instead of running back to the water after a minute or two, the twins spend a long time building the largest and most elaborate sandcastle any of them have ever seen, and, just like that summer day all those months ago, they let her plant the flag when they've deemed it to be finished.

She hugs them both close, eyes filled with happy tears this time - and then, all three of them are startled when the baby gives a vigorous enough kick for them all to feel.

"Oh, hello!" Jemima gasps, laying a hand on her mother's belly. "Do you like the seaside, too? We're all terribly excited to meet you very soon."

Jeremy looks up, head tilted in thought. "How soon is it going to be, Truly - I mean, Mummy?"

She smiles, ruffling his hair - she's noticed that here at the seaside, they're always more likely to slip up and call her Truly. "In just a little more than a month or so, now."

"And then you'll be able to run around and play with us again?"

Truly has to swallow the lump rising in her throat, trying not to get too overly emotional in front of the children.

"It may take a little more time before I can do that, but yes, of course I will."

As difficult as it is to believe right now, in her heart of hearts, she knows it to be true. Her body will belong to her again soon enough, and everything is going to be fine - no, marvelous.

xxx

Contentment

So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain

Wave goodbye to cares of the day

And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain

Sail far away from Lullaby Bay

As they conclude the lullaby in soft harmony, Caractacus and Truly lock eyes, an expression of deepest affection passing between them. Though they've sang it together many times by now, Truly can't help but recall a similar moment involving this same song, when she'd lent her voice when he was too distressed to continue in the cavern beneath the Vulgarian castle. She hadn't known, yet, that he loved her, but the way he'd looked into her eyes as they'd finished the song together had told her all that she'd needed to know. Even under such dark circumstances, when she looked at him, she couldn't look away.

Now, though, they aren't in a desolate cave in a strange land in the midst of such danger and uncertainty, nor is there any question of how much they love each other. Instead, Caractacus is kneeling beside his wife in the softly-lit nursery while Truly rocks little Emily Potts to sleep.

Emily is a good sleeper, at least so far. She never fails to fall asleep to the old Potts family lullaby, as if there's a sort of magic in the song, especially when her mother and father sing it together. Truly's encountered all sorts of things that could only be explained by magic ever since meeting and joining this family, so she has little trouble believing that the magic of the lullaby might actually be true.

Currently, Emily's golden head is nestled on Truly's bosom, and she's making little cooing noises in her sleep, calm and content after nursing. Being a mother to an infant is somehow even more exhausting than Truly had expected, but everything is worth it for peaceful, impossibly sweet moments like these. She feels as if she could gaze at her baby daughter endlessly, enthralled and captivated by every little thing she does - Emily's tiny hand balled up into a fist as she sleeps, her lips moving slightly, her eyelids fluttering now and then.

(She'd, admittedly, still held onto some worries that Jemima and Jeremy might like the idea of a baby better than the real thing, or that all the special care and attention that an infant requires might spark jealousy in them after all. But none of that has come to pass, and the twins have shown an impressive maturity and protectiveness when it comes to their baby sister's needs. They really are two wonderful children.)

"Lovely, just lovely," Caractacus whispers as he strokes Emily's tiny head and places a kiss on Truly's, and she beams brilliantly at her husband, knowing well that he's chosen those precise words on purpose.

"Did you ever imagine that we'd end up like this? That day, I mean?" It's a silly question with an obvious answer, but she never tires of hearing him talk about how he fell in love with her.

As expected, he shakes his head firmly. "Never. I wished, though."

She regards him with twinkling eyes. "But you really were talking about me, when you said those words the first time."

"Oh, absolutely. I couldn't take my eyes off you. You were like a ray of sunshine - well, you always are, but that day was when I realized it for the first time." His eyes widen for a moment, and he gives her a crooked, self-conscious smile. "Did you know, when I said that, that I was looking at you? When you turned back to look at me, I sort of felt - caught. Because of course, I never, ever thought you'd want me to feel that way about you."

"I don't know if I knew. I hoped, though."

Of course she's well aware that it's the most natural thing in the world, but it still awes her that there's an entire new person living now because the two of them met and fell in love and married - because everything happened just the way it did. As she traces Emily's tiny, perfect features - Caractacus always says their baby looks just like her - Truly lets out a soft giggle. "And to think... all this because I couldn't stop driving my car into the pond!"

"All this because the boiling point of my sugar was too high..."

She grins, turning her nose up in that faux-snooty way she's perfected by now. "Well, it was, if you weren't trying to make sweets that whistled!"

When he's finished laughing and kissing her, Caractacus adds, "All this because the kids were so sentimentally attached to a broken-down wreck of a car they liked to play with in the junkyard."

There's a warm glow in her heart, spreading throughout her entire being and lighting her up. "They were right. They really were right about everything, all along."

After they settle Emily in her cot and step out into the hallway together, Caractacus pulls Truly in and kisses her sweetly, cupping her face in his hands. She'll never again take for granted the ability to be held close in his embrace like this, her entire body pressed flush against his - even after two months, she's grateful every day to have her freedom of mobility and full mastery of her body back.

Of course, there's one aspect of her body that she hasn't yet reclaimed. And when she thinks of it now, her breath hitches in her throat. They haven't made love since before the baby was born, and all of a sudden, she feels that lack keenly, desperately.

To be as close to him as can be, to be touched and caressed everywhere and told she's gorgeous from head to toe, to be kissed with more than just careful gentleness, to be exhausted from overwhelming bliss and not merely a lack of sleep, to be fully a wife and a woman again and not solely a mother... all at once, Truly can't breathe with how badly she wants that, wants him. Desire is running through her body in uncontrollable tingling shivers, the way she used to feel before they were married when she'd been frustrated from months of unfulfilled longing - not that she'd known the exact reason at the time.

"Caractacus." She's nervous, out of practice at this sort of thing, but she knows she has to be the one to say something or he'd wait forever for an indication that she's ready for this. "The doctor did tell me that I've healed entirely, remember. And I - I miss you."

Truly has learned quite a few things about seduction over a full year of marriage, and she wouldn't call this one of her best. Actually, she's afraid that she sounds quite pathetic.

But Caractacus clearly doesn't think so, because he gazes back at her with naked longing in his blue eyes, his voice wavering slightly. "Oh, Truly, I miss you, too. Terribly."

"Please," she whispers, trembling, hands knotted in the fabric of his pyjama shirt. "Please, won't you - "

She doesn't have the opportunity to finish that sentence, nor does she need to. Because he sweeps her up into his arms, where she fits as easily and perfectly as ever, and captures her lips in a long, deep, delicious kiss as he carries her off to their bed.

And much later, as they drift off into a blissful slumber still cozily entwined in each other's arms, Truly knows for certain that everything really will be just as it always has been between them, no matter what.