She sat back in the armchair nearest the door.
Sometime later, she awoke suddenly. Dim light shone through the sitting room windows. The clock showed half past five. She heard cautious footsteps on the stairs, and with each step her heart seemed to beat faster. She rose and walked to the door, her hand on her stomach in an attempt to ease her nerves.
Daniel, drawn and tired, stepped onto the landing, loosening his cravat. When he looked up and saw her there, he hesitated. “Oh. Forgive me. I did not expect you up this early. I need only a clean shirt and I shall be gone again.” He paused. “Tell me you have not been sitting there all night?”
She touched her hair self-consciously. “When you did not return, I grew anxious.”
Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, his face wooden, eyes averted. “Is there something you needed to tell me?”
“Daniel,” she began gently, moving closer. “If you are avoiding me because you think I shall marry Mr. Harris, then you are mistaken. I do not wish to marry him.” How could she, when she loved Daniel, as well as Anne, so deeply?
Daniel stood frozen, clearly as stunned as Mr. Harris had been at her refusal. But though disappointed, Mr. Harris had wished her every happiness and assured her they parted friends.
Daniel’s brow furrowed. “But ... Edmund ...”
“I know.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. “But it cannot be helped. I cannot have him and you both.” She smiled tentatively. “And I want you.”
When Daniel did not respond, she reached out and touched a button on his waistcoat, giving it a gentle tug. He released a long, jagged breath. “Charlotte ... are you quite certain?”
She nodded.
Shaking his head in wonder, he slowly reached out and cradled her face with his long, sensitive fingers. He leaned close, his blue-green eyes wide through his spectacles. He whispered, “I am afraid to believe it.”
She looked into those eyes and urged, “Believe.”
His gaze melded with hers for a long moment before lowering to her mouth. His eyes drifted closed behind a curtain of golden eyelashes and he kissed her gently. Then more deeply.
Then again.
They were married by special license a mere fortnight later. Daniel’s father was there with them, of course, proud and happy, Mrs. Krebs at his side. Aunt and Uncle Tilney also attended, as did Thomas and Sally, who smiled and wept throughout the entire ceremony.
Though invited, the Reverend Mr. Lamb did not attend, nor did Beatrice. Charlotte felt their absence, but not too keenly. She was busy embracing all the joy and passion of her wedding day and married life.
Even so, Charlotte regretted that she was never able to reconcile with her father. The Reverend, as distant and unforgiving as ever, died shortly after she and Daniel moved to Doddington. A kindly new vicar took his place and gladly welcomed Charlotte back into the church of her childhood.
Beatrice also remained distant. Through Mr. Harris, Charlotte learned that Bea married a naval officer many years her senior and resided in London. Bea did send a brief note one Christmas, enclosing their mother’s butterfly brooch. Charlotte’s thank-you note and other letters remained unanswered.
Charles Harris did not remarry. His mother, Mrs. Harris, rallied and provided Edmund a healthy regimen of maternal influence and nurturing over the years. Edmund spent a good deal of time with his grandmother in Doddington, and Charlotte was able to see him at village events or on the rare occasion Daniel was called upon to treat some childhood ailment or other.
Edmund had even played with Anne now and then when they were young and seemed to enjoy the company of Daniel and Charlotte as well. If he ever wondered at the reason for their heightened interest and many kindnesses, he never voiced the question.
He remained, of course, completely unaware of his relationship to Charlotte. Hearing her son call her merely “Mrs. Taylor” was always bittersweet, but she resigned herself to living with that particular ache for the rest of her days.
Charlotte’s close relationship with Anne did a great deal to soothe that ache. Daniel’s daughter knew about Lizette but had recently confided that Charlotte had always been mother to her, even before she and her father had married. At Daniel’s encouragement, Anne had long ago stopped using the endearment “Missy” and began calling Charlotte “Mother.” Every time she heard it, she paused to savor the sound and think,What a lovely word.
EPILOGUE
When Edmund Harris found me in my office and asked permission to marry my daughter Anne, I was at first astounded, then utterly amazed. The poor lad took my expression as hesitance and looked quite miserable. For one flicker of a moment I saw Charles Harris in the young man’s face and thought of disappointing him in some sort of belated revenge for the obstacles his father had placed between Charlotte and me. But I quickly banished the petty thought. Thinking instead of Charlotte, as well as Anne, I warmly assured him of my blessing.
I follow behind now as Edmund goes to find Charlotte to tell her the news himself. I want to witness this moment from afar, so as not to intrude on their reunion.
I see them in the garden, standing close in conversation. Stepping nearer, I am just in time to hear Edmund’s words to Charlotte.
“May I call you Mother now?”
She looks at him, stilled. Then her face blooms into a radiant smile. “Nothing would please me more.”
Anne comes out of the house, and I blink away unexpected tears, stunned all over again at what a lovely young woman our daughter has become. She walks, tall and graceful, to join Charlotte and Edmund in the garden. She laces her arm through Edmund’s, and Edmund offers his other arm to Charlotte.
