AUTHOR'S NOTE: Chapter Contains some mild "T" elements. Nothing too graphic but parental guidance is advised.

Warmth. Adoration. Belonging. These are the feelings that Lucas Bouchard felt as he awakened on that November morning with his love in his arms. In the wee hours of the morning, his entire life had changed, and the softly snoring woman in his arms had made it so. For the first time in his life, Lucas felt truly cherished, and he truly cherished her in return. His heart was fully hers, and there was no turning back.

Stirring slightly just to look at her, he discovered she was somewhat of a light sleeper as she lazily opened her crystal blue eyes and looked up at him, sighing and smiling as she did. Lucas gazed at her with wonder, taking his fingers and combing them through her hair as she wordlessly snuggled closer and placed a kiss on his bare chest. He had found his soulmate and wanted to stay like this beside her forever.

For Tilly, it was the same. She closed her eyes, not to sleep but to remember the moment – her first of many, she hoped. His feel, his smell, his touch, the rise and fall of his broad chest with its dusting of dark hair, the soft feel of his beard against her forehead, the way their breaths almost seemed to harmonize together – the rightness of it all – the love. Yes, this truly was what love felt like, and she never wanted it to end.

"Could we just stay like this?" she asked softly.

Lucas smiled, enjoying her sweet melodious voice as the first one he heard that day. He hugged her closer. "We can do anything your heart desires," he whispered. He felt the muscles in her cheeks contract as she smiled against his chest and then pulled herself even closer, hugging him tightly and then finally rolling over onto her stomach so she could see him. Their legs were intertwined, and their feet playfully brushed against one another as she rested her chin on her hand, which was on his chest and she gently brushed her fingers through his gloriously disheveled hair.

"You'd better be careful making me promises like that," she teased.

Lucas chuckled. "I never make promises that I don't keep."

"Is that so?"

"That's so," he replied. Lucas moved his hands under her arms and pulled her over on top of him so that she was now resting fully on him, her two legs between his own. He kissed her deeply, and that closeness and intimacy threatened to start love's dance again until they heard voices in the hallway.

"Thomas."

"Good morning, madam."

Lucas and Tilly's eyes widened.

"Sophia! She can't see you in here!" Tilly said, moving over to the side of the bed while Lucas sat up.

"Good morning, Thomas. Would you go inform Claudette that one of the Grant children has a mild allergy to blueberries, and she is not to include them in the crepes this morning. I'd tell her myself, but I need to speak with Ottilia about something."

Lucas looked at Tilly. "She's coming in here. What can I do?"

"Hide!"

Lucas looked around the room. "Where?"

"Under the bed?"

Bouchard looked downward. "It's too open. What about a closet?"

Tilly shook her head. "There is no closet in this room. Only a wardrobe."

"No closet?" Lucas said, shifting his feet to the floor as he felt around for his clothes. Picking up the first thing his fingers touched, he began to slip it on as they both looked for a place for him to hide. Tilly was the first to turn and see him struggling to pull the sleeve of her chiffon robe over his arm. She burst out laughing.

"What?" he asked, standing.

"I don't think that will fit you."

Lucas looked down. "Oh, for Pete's sake!" he said, pulling the sleeve off of his arm and tossing the robe to her, then looking down toward the floor and finding his undergarment. At the same time, they listened, Lucas threw Tilly's nightgown to her and then stepped into the one-piece summer "Union Suit," which was common for men to wear under their clothing in those days and the shorts variety that Bouchard would wear year-round.

"Yes, ma'am, I will do that right away."

"Thank you, Thomas," Sophia Falkenberg said, her voice getting closer to the door.

"What about your bathroom?" he asked.

"What if she has to use it?"

"Oh, right," he said, rushing to the window and looking outside. By now, Tilly had her gown on and was pulling on her robe as they looked around the room for something large enough to conceal him before Sophia entered. Thankfully, the lady of the house's lists of chores for Thomas that morning continued to grow.

"There's no place. I'll have to hide out on the ledge. You can let me in when she leaves," Lucas said, Tilly joining him on that side of the room.

"Lucas, that's too dangerous."

"I promise I'll be careful," he said, opening the window. She looked up at him and swallowed, her eyes expressing concern.

"Don't worry," he said, climbing over the windowsill and out onto the narrow patch of roof directly below the window.

Sophia knocked on Tilly's door.

"Who…who is it?" Tilly said loudly in an effort to stall.

"It's me, Tilly."

Tilly looked at Lucas, who grinned at her, then leaned in and kissed her, brushing his tongue against her lower lip in the most tantalizing way imaginable. They held the kiss.

"Tilly?"

Bouchard grinned as Tilly pulled away, swishing her hand at him and directing him to go. He stopped outside the window as she made her way to the door.

"I'm coming," she said, watching behind her to make sure he was out of sight.

Lucas poked his head inside the room once more. "Tilly!" he whispered.

She turned around and looked at him, exasperated, until he smiled.

"I love you," he said, most sincerely and in such a way that she thought she would melt into a puddle right then and there.

"Tilly, are you okay?"

The door opened before Tilly got there, and Sophia walked in. Tilly turned toward the window with a panicked look, but Lucas was nowhere to be seen.

"Young lady, you scared me to death," Falkenberg stated, walking further into the room. "I was afraid something had happened to you."

Tilly smiled nervously. "Just a little slow rising. I needed to find my robe."

Lucas suppressed a laugh as he hid just outside her window until he heard Sophia's footsteps and voice drawing near.

"I would think you would need something warmer than that flimsy thing," Sophia said, walking to the window to shut it. "It's November, not July, dear."

"Um, well…."

The windows shut, but Falkenberg was still close enough to them that he could hear her say something about a dignitary coming to the house later that week and needing Tilly's opinion on certain preparations. He rubbed the back of his neck and then ran his hand down his face. Knowing Sophia, this would not be a short conversation. Considering what to do, Lucas decided that rather than freeze on the ledge or be caught, he'd try to make his way down the length of the house to his room, banking on the idea that his window was unlocked. The ledge was too narrow for him to put his pajamas on without risking losing his balance, so Bouchard carried them in hand as he made his way toward his end.

Around the same time, Sophia had taken a seat in a chair in Tilly's room bidding Ottilia to do the same. Just as she did, Rasmussen spotted Bouchard's slippers sticking out from under her bed. Her heart sped up.

"You know, you're right," she said, walking to her writing desk and pulling out some stationary and a pen. "It is a little chilly in here. Here. Why don't you write down some of the specifics for me while I find something warmer to wear. She held out the items in her hand, and Sophia studied her.

"You're shaking," she said. Tilly nodded. "Well, for goodness' sake, go get warm. I'll be here when you get back."

Tilly nodded, then rushed toward her bed, purposely knocking the pillow on the floor so she could pick it up again, along with the slippers. Deftly, she accomplished her task and then went to her wardrobe, depositing the shoes between two layers of folded sweaters and then grabbing a cashmere cardigan. On her way back to Sophia, she walked by the window, looking to see if she could see him, but she could not. Peering down toward the ground, she didn't see him there either, and so a nervous Tilly rejoined her host, who was now at the writing desk.

On the ledge, Lucas carefully made his way toward his room. Immediately regretting his lack of clothing, he couldn't wait to jump in a hot bath to warm up - but then again, taking a bath would mean removing the scent of Tilly's perfume from his skin – a fragrance that gave him a sense of great contentment. Perhaps he could avoid his chest area where she'd been laying and get the rest – which, speaking of rest, he could stand to get a couple more hours as he had barely slept at all the prior night – not that he was complaining.

In the room next to Lucas's, two more people didn't get much sleep, enjoying their time as honeymooners do and then waking up early as they normally did. Nathan had climbed out of bed about ten minutes earlier and was drawing a bath for Jenny while he shaved, and Jenny reluctantly had rolled out from underneath the warm covers as well and was standing in her nightgown in front of her dressing table, brushing her hair, when she saw a large shadow pass by the bedroom window.

Furrowing her brow, she considered for a moment that the Falkenbergs might be having some roof work done. However, the hour was still quite early for workers to be on sight, so her curiosity got the better of her. Pulling on her robe, she walked to the window.

Jenny's eyes widened as big as the sun, and her mouth dropped open when she saw what was moving outside her window.

"Lucas Bouchard!"

His sister's voice startled Lucas causing him to at first nearly throw himself off the roof but then second stumble backward toward her window as he quickly snatched the pajama top in his hand that he almost dropped. The bottoms were a lost cause, falling downward and landing in the bushes below.

Lucas peered over the edge of the roof and then closed his eyes, raising his hand to his face.

"What are you doing out there?" Jenny insisted as Lucas leaned against her windowsill.

Bouchard hadn't prepared any other thing to say so he told her the truth.

"I'm walking to my room."

"On the roof? In your skivvies?"

Lucas looked down at his attire. "Yes, well, um…."

"Get yourself in here this instant!" she said, tugging on his arm.

Lucas raised his other hand to protest. "I've got to go fetch my pants from the bush."

"Not dressed like that, you aren't!"

Bouchard again looked down. "I suppose you're right." Surrendering, he slipped through the window and into the Grants' bedroom.

"Now, do you mind telling me what on earth you are doing outside?"

"I already did," Lucas said, moving toward the room's entrance and poking his head through the door. Several servants worked in the hallway.

Shutting the door, he turned and looked at his sister. "I need some clothes."

Jenny threw him a look. "Thank you for stating the obvious. What were you doing?"

"Going to my room."

"From where? Where were you in this house that caused you to have to strip d…." Jenny's lips parted again, and her eyes narrowed as she mentally put two and two together, looking in the direction of Tilly's room and then the direction of Lucas's before returning her gaze toward her brother. As Bouchard swallowed, Jenny crossed her arms.

"Were you visiting a certain young lady last night?"

Lucas's eyes shifted then he diverted his gaze altogether, walking quickly to the door and opening it again. The maid was standing right there. He promptly closed the door and the maid turned around curiously, wondering if she'd heard something but then shrugged it off and continued her work.

"Answer me! Were you visiting Tilly?"

Lucas looked toward Jenny nervously. "No. I wasn't visiting Tilly…at least I wouldn't call it that," he mumbled as he walked toward the window and looked outside, just in time to see a groundskeeper retrieving his pajama bottoms from the bush. He scrunched up his face.

"Then just exactly what would you call it?" Jenny asked, raising an accusatory eyebrow.

Lucas turned around, his mind desperately trying to think of an explanation that could get him off the hook but wasn't quite a lie. "I…um….talking. I went to her room to discuss what happened last night." That was it.

"In your knickers?"

Lucas chuckled. "Of…of course not. And, these aren't really knickers; they're more of a…."

"Lucas?" Nathan said, exiting the bathroom in his robe. "You're here….in our bedroom…in your underwear." He looked toward Jenny for an explanation.

Nathan's voice caused Bouchard to suddenly feel quite overexposed and all the more judged for his actions, which, by this point in time, he realized perhaps the judgment wasn't all that unreasonable.

He sheepishly looked at his brother-in-law. "Yes. I am. I'm cold as well. Could I possibly borrow some clothes?"

Nathan stood silently for a moment, then blinked himself out of his stare. "Oh. Um, sure…." He said, walking toward the wardrobe.

"Not so fast!" Jenny said, reaching out and grabbing her husband's arm, her eyes still boring holes into Lucas.

"No?"

"Not until my brother tells me why he was down at Tilly's room at this hour of the morning and how he managed to lose his clothing after he got there."

Nathan considered her thought then shook his head, joining his wife in crossing his arms as they stood arm to arm. "Yeah. I think I'd like to hear that one too."

Lucas took in a deep breath, his eyes moving from side to side and his mouth opening, trying to form words for an explanation that would make sense but finding none. A couple of times, it appeared he was about to speak, but then he stopped. Finally, he looked at them and shrugged.

"I have nothing to say."

Jenny opened her eyes. "Nothing to say?!"

"No."

"You're walking out on the roof past our bedroom window half naked at six-thirty in the morning, and you don't think you at least owe us an explanation?"

Lucas shook his head. "No. I don't."

"Really!"

Lucas slipped on his pajama top and then looked at Nathan, hoping he would provide some bottoms, and Grant took the hint.

"Listen, hun," Nathan said, walking toward the wardrobe. "Lucas is a good man. I'm sure there is some innocent explanation for why he was on the roof…in his underwear."

Bouchard looked at Grant and nodded, taking the pair of pants that the latter provided for him with gratitude and then giving him a nod that neither provided explanation nor assurance concerning the matter at hand.

"Thank you, Nathan, much appreciated."

Lucas leaned down and slipped his leg into Grant's pants and then did the other before standing up to button them. The pants lacked at least two inches of length at the bottom. He looked up at his brother-in-law. "Is this the longest you have?"

"They're a 35-inch inseam!"

"I wear a 38!"

"I can't help that you have freakishly long legs."

Lucas opened his mouth, offended. "Well, these aren't going to work. What if someone would see me?"

"You should have thought about that before you went parading around the roof in your drawers!" Jenny replied.

"Touché ," Lucas conceded.

"So, you're not going to tell us?" Jenny asked.

"I'd really prefer not."

Jenny sighed, but Nathan wasn't willing to give up that easily. "Alright….let's just get the obvious question out of the way. You say you were in Tilly's room."

Lucas clenched his jaw and nodded.

"Okay, and when you went in there, you were fully clothed."

"Yes," he responded.

"Then, somehow, you ended up on the roof."

Bouchard nodded slowly. "Cor..rect."

"In your underwear," Nathan said.

"Yes," Lucas said, reaching for the door. Grant immediately put his hand against it, keeping him from opening it.

"Alright, you do owe us an explanation on this one. How did you lose your clothes? You didn't sleep with her, did you?"

Lucas and Nathan stared at one another for the longest time without saying a word until finally, Grant relented.

"I see."

Lucas looked away and then cast a guilty gaze toward Jenny, who was standing there in shock. He reached for her hand.

"Are you too disappointed?"

Jenny shook her head incredulously and withdrew her hand. "I….I can't believe this….you slept with Tilly?"

"Shhh….." Bouchard replied, worried that her words would reach the hallway. "We didn't mean for it to happen, I just…."

"You just happened to go to her bedroom at night in your pajamas unchaperoned, and you just happened to think that was appropriate…."

"I was upset…."

"So, what? You decided to work off some steam?"

"It wasn't like that," Lucas responded, following his sister across the room.

"Then what was it like?" she said. "And make it good because everything I've ever believed about my honorable brother is about to go fluttering out the window, so you'd better tell me. I'm listening."

Lucas's expression changed to one of hurt, then he nodded to himself knowing that his actions had indeed disappointed her and that he deserved this reaction. He took a deep breath.

"Please, take a seat," he said quietly.

Jenny walked to her bed while Nathan grabbed a chair for Lucas and then sat next to his wife, holding her hand. From the expression on Lucas's face, both knew that the conversation was going to be difficult, and both wanted to give him their full attention. They waited as he gathered his thoughts and then listened carefully as he spoke.

"I thought things would be easier," he began. "When my memory began to be restored, I thought I would feel relief because that would mean I would know, you know, and yet….as more and more is revealed, I just seem to feel all the more lost – out of place – like my life isn't real."

Jenny frowned. "What do you mean?"

Lucas looked at her. "When Elizabeth died, I think it broke me." His eyes began to swell with tears. "And by that, I mean nothing feels normal to me now – at least that which I can actually feel. You. I know you. I know you are my sister, and I know that we are close. I feel a certain kinship with you, but I recall so little…."

Jenny began to speak to tell him why, but a gentle squeeze of her hand by her husband reminded her that the doctor had instructed them to let the memories return naturally, so she held her tongue.

"I still have these whole chunks missing and what I do know is sort of muddled together to where it doesn't make sense. Your children, for instance…I don't remember them being born. In truth, I don't remember them at all. They are adorable, and that little Jo is such a sweet girl, and Luke, he's so responsible – someone, no doubt, to be proud of. But they are just children to me. I don't know them. I don't really feel a relationship with them like I should feel as an uncle to his nephew and niece. With Nathan, I think our relationship is somewhat intact. We are friends and sometimes engage in playful sparring, but I remember very little else. I'd like to, but I don't. With Mother and Father, there is a distance…emotionally. I know them. I know who they are, but there is a wall there – a trust which is lacking, and I don't know why." He again swallowed. "And then there's Elizabeth…."

He paused for some time before looking up sadly. "I have absolutely no feeling for her at all in terms of what I would call love. I know of her. I feel a sadness for what happened to her. I feel tremendous guilt that I let it happen…tremendous….but, as I explained to Tilly – she might as well be a name in a newspaper article about some stranger who was senselessly murdered. I feel a sense of injustice and anger toward her assailant….but in terms of her being a woman I loved….there's nothing." He shook his head as a tear rolled down his cheek. "Nothing at all. And that terrifies me."

He stood and began to pace. "Before my memory began to return, I felt like something was missing but still felt somewhat whole. I lived my life, worked a job, had friends, and had at least somewhat of an identity. Now, ironically, I suppose, I feel less sure about myself the more I know. I feel fully connected to absolutely nothing or no one – except for Tilly.

She is the one light in all of this mess that makes sense to me. Where I feel an empty void concerning Elizabeth, that void is filled to overflowing with how I feel for Tilly. And, while I realize I have only known her for four months, you need to understand that four months in the life of a man who has no history is an absolute lifetime.

And last night, when I became upset, part of the reason was I felt that connection tested. Melrose has stepped in and done some things which left me confused and distressed…."

"I knew I didn't trust that guy," Nathan said. " But go on."

"And, well…I spent a great deal of time by the shore just stewing over the whole matter. Finally, I came inside and couldn't sleep, and I knew I had to air it out with her, so I went to her room."

"And confronted her?" Jenny asked.

"Yes. I questioned what I had seen directly, left nothing off the table, and she told me what really happened, and she told me about his lies, and she told me that she wasn't at all in love with him…because she's in love with me," he said, with a wistful smile, his chin quivering. "And in that moment, I felt that part of me which feels so dead right now spring right back to life, and I felt loved, and I felt wanted, and I felt whole again….and I felt love for the woman who stood before me like I can't describe. I was sinking quickly, and those few words reached out to me and saved me from drowning – and, well….we talked about how I was feeling, and she listened…and it was as if she understood me unlike I'd ever been understood before – and it was so right, so beautiful – and while I tried to observe some propriety about the matter and return to my room, ultimately, I couldn't. I stayed. And, yes, we did join as one. And I have no regrets….save, perhaps, for the timing of it all."

"What do you mean?" Jenny asked.

Lucas tilted his head back and forth, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and then accepting a clean handkerchief from Nathan, who reached into the nightstand drawer and retrieved one. "Well, obviously, propriety would dictate that what we did was wrong and a sin…"

"God dictates that, but go on," Jenny said.

"Yes, God," Lucas said. "We mustn't forget Him."

The Grants glanced at one another but let it go.

"But I do want you to know that I intend to make it right. We got a little ahead of ourselves, that's for certain – but it wasn't something that either of us had planned, and I have already decided that I will rectify that situation by publicly doing what we have already privately done."

"Um…." Nathan said with alarm, and Bouchard shot him a look.

"I'm not talking about that. Goodness gracious!"

"Whew…'cause I was going to say."

Lucas chuckled and shook his head. "No. I'm talking about something which transcends that and which is holy in the eyes of God and man."

"You're talking about marrying her," Jenny replied.

Lucas smiled softly and nodded.

"I see," she replied, her mind processing this new information and combining it with thoughts she had concerning Lucas's mental state. "Are you sure?"

"Am I?"

"What I mean to say is, are you sure that the fact you're feeling some emotion with Tilly isn't getting blown out of proportion because you lack emotion elsewhere? Marriage is a huge step."

"So is physical intimacy," Lucas replied. "This was not something that I entered into lightly, seeing I have waited all of this time – and I am sure. I'm as sure as I am standing here that Tilly is the woman I want to spend my future with. I love her, deeply – as much, if not more, I suspect, as I loved Elizabeth though the feelings there are…" he trailed off, his mind again beginning to drift toward that hopeless abyss.

Jenny noticed the shift. "Then you have my blessing," she said, immediately gaining her brother's attention and meriting a sweet smile.

"I do?"

"Yes," she said confidently. "I like her. I liked her the moment I met her, and I think the two of you are very suitably matched. And, as long as she's good to my brother, I shall be delighted to have her as a sister."

"Oh, Jenny!" Lucas said, walking over to her and joining her in a hug as she and Nathan stood.

Grant patted him on the back. "Congratulations, Lucas. Have you considered how you are going to propose?"

Lucas shrugged. "Not yet. It is all so new. I just know it's something that I want to do, and I plan on going into town to buy a ring as soon as possible. A ring…and, perhaps, some transportation. I have money now, don't I?"

"I'll say," Nathan said, bringing a swift jab to the ribs from his wife's elbow.

"Good!" Lucas said. "I think I'll get Sam to go with me to purchase something snazzy after breakfast. That will give me a good excuse with Tilly so that she doesn't find out about the ring. I believe that Annie has her French lessons this afternoon anyway. Wish me luck!"

Nathan nodded as Lucas walked toward the door in his pajama top and high-water pants.

"You might want to change into something different before you head downstairs."

Lucas looked at his attire and grinned. "Yes. I do believe you're right."

"What was that?" Nathan asked.

Lucas stopped in the doorway and thought a moment then chuckled and walked on.

After he had gone, Jenny and Nathan looked at one another for a moment, each raising and lowering their eyebrows.

"Oh boy," Grant said.

"You can say that again," Jenny responded as she turned to head to the tub.

An hour later, the entire household, including Lucas and Tilly, joined together at the breakfast table. Almost everyone was happy to see that Lucas was in a much better mood that morning than the night before – everyone but Michael. Nobody brought up the prior evening's events but instead enjoyed the peace and happiness of the moment, which felt right until Annie and Josephine began to giggle.

"And what is so funny, you two?" Helen asked in as friendly of a manner as she could, realizing that she had no right to question the daughter of the crown prince but also wishing to steer her granddaughter into proper table etiquette.

Jo was blunt. "Uncle Lucas and Daddy Nathan are piggies." She then made a snorting sound, which Annie mimicked.

Both men were mid-bite with mouths opened and stopped to look at one another, and then the table full of people who were now staring at the massive heaps of food on not only Lucas and Nathan's plates but on Tilly's as well.

"The kitchen staff has outdone themselves today," Jenny said, reaching for a spoon to dip out another helping of fruit for herself and hoping to deflect. Her tactic worked.

"That's why we employ them," Ari said; he looked up as one of the servants entered the room to pour more coffee and tea. "Ah, John, when you return to the kitchen, would you mind asking them to make more pancakes? It appears we are running low."

Bouchard looked down and blushed as he was most guilty of going after the breakfast staple, which, until that moment, he had thoroughly enjoyed. He glanced sideways at Tilly, who hid a sweet grin, placing her hand on his thigh and squeezing.

Lucas's mother turned to his father and raised an eyebrow. Martin rolled his eyes and pretended as if nothing unusual was happening. Yet, inside, he knew something had changed – but before he could consider what, the same servant leaned over and whispered something into Sophia's ear that shocked her.

"Oh, for goodness sakes. Thank you, John."

Ari looked across at her. "Is something wrong, dear?"

Sophia chuckled. "A most odd thing. John said that Cecil, our gardener, found a pair of men's pajama bottoms resting in the hedges." She then chuckled again. "I don't suppose any of our guests are missing a pair?"

Lucas turned white and held his breath, but Nathan rescued him.

"Um, those would be mine," he lied. "The lid to the toothpaste in my suitcase came undone and got paste on my pajamas. I washed them out in the sink and then attempted to line dry them like I used to do at home."

Jenny joined in, "Only the line didn't hold. I told him the Falkenbergs have staff to do the laundry."

"Indeed, we do," Ari said. "Feel free to leave any soiled garments in the hamper in the bathrooms. The staff will sort things out and make sure they get to the right place."

"Good to know," Nathan said with a sheepish grin.

"So, tell us about your father's latest investment in Italy, Michael," Ari said, changing the subject. And with that, most of the table changed focus, though Lucas looked at Nathan from across the table and nodded with a grateful smile – a look which was picked up on by Martin, who, as an auditor, had experience in discerning lies. He had noticed the shift in Lucas's behavior and the way the tips of his ears had turned red as they did when he was a child when he was fibbing, and he began to give the situation a closer scrutiny.

It didn't take long for Martin to pick up on several anomalies as the family relaxed and returned to normal conversation. For one, his son was sitting next to Rasmussen and, for most of the rest of the breakfast, had his hand on her thigh or her hand on his. But it was when he witnessed Lucas feeding her a bite of his pancakes laden with syrup and then kissing the syrup off of her lips as if nobody else was in the room he knew. The odd item of clothing in the Falkenberg's hedges was not that of Nathan Grant and his laborious talks to keep his son on the straight and narrow path until marriage had likely failed. He couldn't bring himself to be upset, however, because the sheer joy his son exuded eliminated any concern that the man had. At least for that moment.

The same could not be said, however, for Melrose, who, even in the middle of his current conversation, observed the entire scene with anger. Bouchard was taking what was his, and the sooner he shut down this little party the better as far as he was concerned. He'd reach out to his contact again after breakfast.

Once everyone was finished eating, Lucas and Tilly left the group, walking into the main hallway.

"What do you want to do today?" she asked.

Lucas took her by the hands. "Well, I have some errands I need to run in town…."

"I can go with you," she replied.

"Not this time," he said. "But I will be back later this afternoon, and if you are available, I would love to spend some time together."

"Of course. But hurry back," she said, leaning up and kissing him.

Lucas wrapped his arms around her waist and deepened the kiss, backing her up against the wall below the grand staircase. When she was just about out of breath, he drew back. "I will," he replied with a mischievous glint, then added, "Dress warm."

"Boy, someone's in a good mood today."

"Is that a problem?"

"Well, no," Sam Peterson said as he and Lucas walked down a New York City street. "It's just, the last time I saw you…."

"Saw…"

"Last time I saw you, you were a bit confused and a little glum, I'd say."

"I had a lot to take in at once."

"Yeah. I suppose that's right. But still, something's different about you this morning. You seem happier - more complete."

Lucas looked at his friend and grinned but offered no explanation.

"So, things are working out with your family being in town?"

"Things are fine."

"Oh, boy," Sam replied.

Lucas cocked his head. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just when you say things are 'fine,' things generally aren't fine. You are usually bothered by something."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So what's bothering you?"

Lucas smiled brightly. "Absolutely nothing. In fact, everything is right in the world."

Sam gave him a dubious expression. "In the whole world?"

Lucas laughed. "In my world, at least. Keep up. We have places to be."

"So, you and my brother seemed quite happy this morning," Jenny said, meeting Tilly in the hallway outside their bedrooms.

Tilly smiled. "Your brother makes me happy."

Jenny nodded. "My brother is a very sweet and kind man. The kind that would sacrifice his self for the happiness of others – particularly in matters of love."

Tilly continued walking toward the stairs. "You sound as if you're worried about something."

Jenny stopped her. "I know about last night."

Tilly gasped and then looked toward Lucas's bedroom door.

Jenny reached out. "He didn't tell me. He didn't have to. I caught him trying to sneak back to his room in, shall we say, a compromised state of dress."

"Jenny, I can assure you that neither one of us meant for that to happen."

"I know. He explained the same thing to me, and I believe you. You are human, and I do not hold it against either one of you. I just ask you one thing. Be careful with his heart. My brother loves you with all of his being, and he has been through so much. If you are not serious…."

"I am. I am very serious about Lucas. I know he is the one I want to spend my life with."

Jenny paused. "And Michael?"

Tilly rolled her eyes. "He's in it for Michael. He never loved me and, in all truth, now that I know what love is, I never loved him. I felt pressure from the position I was in and wanted to escape, and for a time, he provided a possibility of a different life."

"And now?"

"He's an interloper who would like to wheedle his way back into my life and interrupt my having the life I really want. He has no hold on my heart, and when my brother is king, I'll see to it that he has no hold on the kingdom as well."

Down below in the hallway, Melrose was seething, having just walked up on the conversation and hearing the latter half.

"We shall see about that, Ottilia. We shall see."

"Where are we going again?" Sam asked as he and his friend crossed Fifth Avenue.

"You'll see."

"Looks like we're heading to the library."

"Not there, though I'm thinking it may factor into things in the future?"

"Factor into things? What things?"

"You ask too many questions," Lucas laughed.

Sam shrugged. "It's just who I am. Just like you are who you are. You know, I always knew you were somebody. You were too well-spoken and had too nice of shoes to have come from nowhere."

Lucas chuckled. "So, you're saying shoes make the man?"

Peterson paused. "No, not really. That Melrose guy has nice shoes, too, but I wouldn't cross the street to talk with him. He's a real popinjay."

"That he is," Lucas responded, "Although I would say calling someone a 'popinjay' is a bit antiquated for someone as modern as you."

"Hey, I'm not that modern," Sam said. "In fact, I'm feeling downright old after working with some of these young bloods in the new play I'm starring in."

"You have a new play? You didn't mention it."

"Just happened. Nothing huge, but it's work. It's playing in the Village. Which reminds - now that we know you're Lucas Bouchard, a rich guy that can afford anything, I don't suppose you'll still be wanting to hang out in a cheap Village apartment with yours truly."

Lucas stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "Our relationship hasn't changed."

Sam smiled. "I know that. I didn't expect that it would. I was just talking about the apartment. No need to room up with some guy when you could live in a mansion."

"You're not just some guy. You're my friend," Lucas continued walking. "And I hadn't really thought about it."

Sam pondered that thought, then smiled. "Too busy thinking of Til, I know."

"She has certainly been on my mind, yes."

"I figure. When a man meets a good woman, everything else fades away. I hope to get there someday."

Lucas looked at his friend. "What about you and Roni?"

"Eh, that's over. She dumped me for some flugelhorn player at the Met."

"I'm sorry, Sam," Lucas said genuinely.

"It's okay," Peterson replied. "I wouldn't want to be with a woman that preferred the flugelhorn over Sammy anyway."

Lucas chucked. "You do have a point there."

"Yes, I do," he said. "Now, enough about that. Tell me again, where exactly are we going? And why?"

Lucas smiled as they stopped at the door. "I'll tell you inside. We're here."

Sam stopped and looked up at the sign on the store. "Tiffany and Company? More jewelry?"

"Yes," Lucas said, opening the door for his friend.

Sam smiled. "Boy, you've got it bad. This is some high-end stuff – but I suppose you can afford it. What's the occasion this time? First date is out of the way. Birthday?"

"No, it's not Tilly's birthday."

"Well, it's mid-November, so it ain't Valentine's Day. I got it. It's just 'cause Tilly is special."

"That she is," Lucas said, stopping at a specific display and looking for a clerk.

Sam stared at Lucas, hoping for a clue, but Bouchard simply smiled. "Alright, fine, don't tell me," he said, looking down and tapping on the counter. It was then that he realized where they were standing. He stopped and looked up at his handsome friend, who was watching a clerk move across the floor.

"Excuse me…" Lucas said, holding up a single finger to catch the clerk's attention.

"Um….Lucas…." Sam said, his eyes by then quite wide. "You ain't lookin' for what I think you're lookin' for, are you?"

Lucas didn't respond.

"May I help you, sir?"

Lucas looked down at the counter. "Yes, sir. I am looking for a ring."

"I KNEW IT!" Sam said, slapping his hands together and then slapping his hand down on the glass. He then turned to Lucas, who was looking at him with raised eyebrows, along with the clerk, and smiled. "See, I told you that you two would get married. Did I tell you?"

Lucas chucked. "Excuse my friend here. He's a little excited."

"That's alright, sir, what kind of ring would you like?"

Lucas paused. "I was thinking diamond and ruby."

The clerk turned around and opened a display case, bringing a flat of rings out for Lucas's review. "Could I interest you in one of these?"

Peterson watched Bouchard, knowing precisely what the latter was going to say next.

"Those are nice. But, I was thinking about something larger – perhaps two to three carats for the center stone and another carat on the accents?"

The clerk held a straight face, but Sam imagined the man was mentally calculating his commission right at that moment.

"Of course, sir. I will have to go get some examples from the safe."

"That's fine," Lucas said. "We can wait."

After purchasing the ring, Lucas took the box and slipped it inside a hidden inner pocket inside his vest, checking twice to make sure it was secure while the clerk got a receipt before leaving the store.

"Why don't you wear it?" Sam asked.

Lucas tilted his head.

"Like a pinky ring. You're so worried about losing the thing, that's one way, for sure, it will stay secure."

Lucas rolled his eyes and Sam chuckled. He could sense that the excitement of having purchased the ring was already being displaced by a certain nervousness at presenting it. In any case, it was the most beautiful piece of jewelry that Peterson had seen and he was certain that Tilly would love it – as certain as he was that his friend had nothing to worry about in terms of her answer.

"And here is your receipt, Mr. Bouchard. As I mentioned before, excellent choice and I'm sure your lady friend will be pleased."

"Thank you," Lucas replied, taking the receipt and sticking it in a different pocket than the ring.

"Please, come back and see us any time."

As they walked away, Sam smirked. "Yeah, I'll bet he wants you to come see him any time. He probably made in commission on that thing what I make for a week's wages."

Lucas stepped to the side, holding the door open for his friend.

"So, how you going to do it? The actual proposal, that is."

Lucas nodded once. "Assuming her father grants permissions…."

"Ooh, that's right. You're goin ' to have to ask the king."

"That is the proper thing to do."

"What if he says no?"

Lucas stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at his friend, a sense of desperation sweeping across his countenance. Sam immediately felt bad.

"Let me rephrase that," he continued, dragging Lucas by the arm in a forward direction. "When he says yes…."

Lucas took a deep breath, the despair of the prior thought still teasing at his mind - but he knew he had to ignore it. "When the king says yes, I plan on arranging dinner for us on the rooftop at the library."

Now, Sam stopped. "The library?"

"Yes, where it all began," Lucas said, tugging his friend's arm so that they turned in a different direction than they were heading.

"Ah. I suppose that's romantic."

"It will be," Lucas replied.

"You sound confident."

Lucas chuckled. "I'm anything but. However, I'm taking the stance that my cousin Gustave has always had, which is, we're French. We know romance."

Sam laughed. "Thought you didn't own up to your French side."

"I do when it's convenient."

Sam nodded. "Hey, where we going? Thomas let us off back there."

Bouchard turned to his friend with a knowing grin. "I sent him back to the mansion. I have other plans."

"Plans?"

"Yes. Follow me."

Tilly was sitting on her bed thinking when the knock came at her door. She had complied with Lucas's request and donned her favorite turtleneck, which, she assumed, would meet the requirements for his afternoon plans. Now, he was here.

"Yes? Come in." She was happy to see the dark hair even before she saw Lucas's smiling face peek into the room.

"Come with me," he said softly. "I have a surprise for you." Holding out his hand, Tilly quickly crossed the room and placed her small hand in his larger one, grinning when he squeezed it.

"What kind of surprise?"

"What would be the fun in me telling you ahead of time?" he asked as they stopped, and he glanced back and forth before taking her in his arms and kissing her deeply. Her heart continued fluttering after he stepped back.

"That was a good surprise..." she breathed out, reaching up for a second.

"Yes, it was, but that wasn't the main reason I came to get you," he replied, looking into her beautiful eyes and walking once again. "I hope you love it."

They silently descended the stairs and exited the front door, where Tilly gasped as she stopped short. "A motorcycle? You bought a motorcycle?" She walked around the vehicle, saying nothing. "It has a sidecar..."

For the first time since Lucas purchased the bike that morning, he began to have doubts. Lifting her riding cap from the seat, he swallowed hard. "I thought, perhaps..." he began as Tilly snatched the headgear and placed it on her head with a mischievous look.

"I love it!" she exclaimed, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and then grabbing him by the hand as she stepped into the sidecar. "Let's go for a ride!"

The smile returned to Bouchard's face as he stepped over and straddled the vehicle, starting it up. "Alright. Let's go," he replied.

Returning from their trip up and down the coast of Long Island, Lucas and Tilly entered the estate with their arms around each other, heading toward their respective bedrooms where they knew they'd need to get cleaned up for dinner later that night. It had been an exhilarating ride and Bouchard's heart was bolstered by the love of adventure she displayed that was akin to that yearning in his own heart.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, they stopped when Lucas's name was called out from behind. Turning around, Lucas saw that it was his father.

"Yes, sir," he responded, the smile on his face still evident from the afternoon's excursion. The elder Bouchard, however, wasn't smiling.

"A word before dinner- in the library?"

Lucas stopped smiling and nodded.

Pacing the library floor as he waited for his father to arrive, Bouchard ran his hand through his hair as he contemplated what his father wanted to discuss. The look in the older man's eyes told Lucas everything he needed to know- this was no frivolous conversation they were about to have, and the longer he waited, the more anxious he became.

He looked toward the door when he heard footsteps approach and Martin soon entered. But there was no smile on the normally jovial face, quite the opposite, causing Lucas's heart to sink further.

"Father," Lucas addressed as the door was pushed to.

"Lucas, let's have a seat," the elder man replied, gesturing to the nearby chairs.

After they were seated, Lucas nervously rubbed his hands across his pants legs. "You want to speak to me? Is everything alright?"

"I did. I do. I'm not quite sure how to begin..."

Not sure what to make of the statement from the usually assured man, Lucas tried to put him at ease. "Tell me what you came to say. It must be important."

Martin cleared his throat, then inaudibly sighed. "Alright. I wanted to speak of your relationship with Miss Rasmussen."

Lucas was taken by surprise. "My... our relationship?" The young man's whole body tensed up as he recognized where his father was headed.

"Son, I know of no other way to say this than to be blunt. It was obvious at the breakfast table that the two of you have become... intimate."

Bouchard inhaled, wanting to deny it and even thought briefly of lying, but ultimately closed his eyes and dropped his head in answer.

"As I suspected," Martin responded.

The silence that followed was almost louder than the beating of Lucas's heart while Martin contemplated his next words.

"Son, I have raised you to be a man of honor and to treat women with the utmost respect. It would be an understatement for me to say how disappointed I am with this current situation. To become intimate with any woman before marriage is improper, but you had to choose the daughter of a king for your immorality."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with it, Lucas. Your unsuitable conduct could have huge repercussions, son - not just for you and Tilly but for the kingdom."

Lucas shook his head. "You don't understand."

"What don't I understand? You did have relations with her, did you not? I haven't heard you deny it."

Lucas bristled. "You make it sound so... tawdry."

"The two of you are unwed. How do you think it sounds?"

At this moment, Michael Melrose was leaving the office where he'd been working the afternoon to get ready for dinner. He stopped when he heard Martin's words.

"It wasn't cheap or crude. It was beautiful. Father, I love Tilly," Lucas said, finally straightening his back.

Martin's eyes softened only momentarily at the sincerity in his son's words. But soon, the barrier was back. "All the more reason to wait."

Standing, Lucas began pacing again as he ran his hand through his dark hair. "Don't you think I have had this same thought repeatedly since it happened? Yes, we should have waited, but we did not. I can't go back and change things, and honestly, I'm not sure I would if I could.

That moment – those moments were borne out of love, Father, not lustful concupiscence as you are making it sound. She is the one thing, the one person in my life that makes me feel as if I still belong somewhere – the one that connects me to life and living. I know you wish that the family did that for me, and perhaps someday. There is so much in my life about which I am still very confused, but not this. She makes sense. WE make sense. I know how I feel about her and the last thing I would ever want to do is to dishonor her or cause the least trouble for her at all. Be that as it is, I know that what we did was, perhaps, improper, and I can't undo that. But I can remedy it."

"Remedy?"

Stopping, Lucas met his father's eyes and removed the small box from his vest pocket. "I plan to propose. And not because I…we... jumped the gun. But because I love her with my whole being and want her to be my wife."

Martin thoughtfully considered his son's words, feeling compassion for what he had gone through but also the concern of a father, which weighed heavily. Finally standing, Martin took his son's hand. "Ottilia is a wonderful young woman, and I do not want to see either of you get hurt."

"I would rather die than hurt her."

Bouchard chuckled. "Hopefully, it doesn't come to something as drastic as that," he said, raising his hand and stroking the cheek of the young man he raised, now all grown up. "I love you, son. And I know you are a grown man who can make his own decisions. I couldn't be prouder of the man you've become. Still, your father wants what is best for you. So, I implore you - do what you have planned quickly. Sin is crouching at the door, and these things have a way of getting out of hand."

"I have placed a call to the palace to speak with her father. Assuming he says yes, I shall ask her before the month is out."

Martin smiled, then nodded his pleasure at his son's answer. What was done couldn't be undone, but he was on the right course.

Certain that he wasn't seen, Melrose stormed down the hallway back to his room as he contemplated the import of all he had heard. That man had had his Tilly. His actions could not go without a response.