Amelia woke to the sounds of her maid bringing in the tray of tea, the delicate clattering of China beckoning her from such a sweet sleep. She opened her eyes and looked to the place beside her, a single red rose lay where Henry had been only a few hours before. A girlish grin spread across her face as she buried her head in the pillow to repress a squeal of delight and disbelief. He loved her, and it felt as if her heart would burst out of her chest at the discovery. She reached a hand to the opposite side of the bed, remembering how sweet he'd been, how gentle and passionate. A warmth spread through her as she recalled the events of the night before with another blush. The ton would be horrified. Her mother would be horrified, she giggled to herself. Gathering the rose to her chest she felt the mendings to her heart their night together had brought.

This was not the first time she'd been loved by Henry, it was that element of their relationship that had provoked such strong vows between them before he'd left for war. Vows she'd lost hope of him honoring, until last night. Pushing herself out of bed, Amelia was able to recall the last five years without pain for the first time since Henry's return. She had longed for him in a way she had not known possible, thought of him every day, waited for him year after year, suitor after suitor had been paraded past by her mother - but Amelia had kept faith that Henry would return to her, that he would do right by her, that he would marry her upon his return.

Instead she'd been met by a jovial army captain who kept to himself behind his facade, utterly unreachable to her. But Amelia Amesbury did not upset easily, so she'd waited these long eighteen months for him come back to himself again, for the war to be left behind, for their life together to at last resume. She smiled as she recalled the night before. They would marry now, live at Broadcroft, have ten children, she giggled at the thought.

"Amelia?" she looked up from her dressing table as Sarah entered the room, flushed and happy looking.

"Over here, dear," she called to her sister-in-law as the maid finished dressing her hair. Sarah came to sit on the chair nearby, recounting for her the many details of the Theater that Amelia had missed after her sudden departure the night before.

"I am so sorry you had a headache," Sarah cooed sympathetically and Amelia thanked her kindly with a smile.

"I am well again now," she said with a contented sigh; she was well in all the ways that had mattered to her since Henry's departure, she amended to herself.

"Would you go visiting with me this morning, if you are feeling well enough?" Sarah asked, "Your mother is gone to see the children at John and Caroline's house."

"Of course," Amelia obliged and within the hour the two were dressed in silken capes and feathered bonnets, alight in the London morning light to fulfill their social duties. Amelia had always done well amongst the ton, for she had mastered that keen ability to keep her head no matter her feelings, but this morning she knew she was causing a stir.

"You seem very delighted this morning, Amelia, dear," Leticia observed over the Stewart's tea table. Amelia lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal reply.

"I find town very diverting compared to Broadcroft, do you not agree, Sarah?" she commented, turning to include her friend in the conversation.

"London has been very entertaining, but I will be happy when we return to Broadcroft at the end of the Season," said the new Lady Amesbury, and Amelia out and out grinned at Sarah's words.

"A new bride does so like to be at ease in her new home," Mrs. Stewart agreed kindly, and Amelia became lost in thought of being a new bride herself soon as the conversation carried on without her.

"Will you be happy to return to Broadcroft?" Sarah asked as the two returned to the Amesbury London house a few hours later.

"I think I shall be happy wherever I am from now on," Amelia giggled, her face flushing as she faced her friend. Sarah observed her carefully for a moment, and Amelia wondered if she should mention her upcoming nuptials.

"Has Henry finally abandoned his ridiculous scheme to resist your charms?" Sarah teased with dramatic exaggeration, causing Amelia to giggle again.

"I believe he has," she answered, as joy pulsated through her, making her whole again. She would be whole again from now on, she thought to herself. All the pain and heartache would be behind them at last.

♞

Sarah recalled her conversation with Amelia that morning as she wandered up to Charles' library in search of his company. Her sister-in-law had barely been able to contain her joy, and Sarah was gladder for it. Perhaps there would soon be wedding bells at Broadcroft again, and then Charles would be forced to admit that Sarah had been right about Amelia's feeling towards Henry all along. With a satisfied smirk at the thought, Sarah ducked inside the solitary room. Snow was drifting past the window, much like it had back at home in the afternoons they'd spent together.

Home.

The very thought warmed her to the core, for that is what it was now. Home would be where her family was, wherever Charles was, from now on, and it filled in empty spaces in her soul she had not known existed. he had been so tender last night, her confession having the opposite effect she'd imagined. All this time she'd been certain that Charles was merely acting honorable towards her, doing the right thing by her to protect her from an unwanted marriage. But last night had been different, the way he'd held her, the things he'd said. Sarah had felt her own burden lifted as she'd recounted the story of her confusion over Charles death, she'd been once again reminded how precious a gift her husband's life was to her. And he'd said he'd loved her. Sarah smiled to herself at the memory, and went to the desk in search of their volume of poetry. Shuffling through the ridiculous piles of documents, Sarah tried not to disorganize them too terribly. She knew it was somewhere in here, they'd been reading it just yesterday - and she expected Charles to join her any moment now to begin it again. She wondered if she would have the thing memorized by the birth of their first child, then blushed at the presumption. Perhaps Charles had already memorized it and was now only pretending it needed rereading, just as he had pretended to lack the ability to read Italian poetry only a few weeks before. Sarah opened one of the drawers in hopes of discovering the book, but to no avail. About to close the drawer to continue her search, a letter heading caught her attention instead.

Annulment, it read. Confusion came first, for sure this would not belong to Charles, he'd refused her a dozen times at the idea, he'd said he loved her. Drawing it out, Sarah read it quickly and felt the blood leave her face as she did.

It was theirs, together. It was his annulment from her, and he'd signed them already, some weeks previously judging by the date. Sarah felt a numbness tingle through her as her thoughts scrambled about in her head. She threw the document back in the drawer and landed hard in the desk chair, feeling unwell.

He'd said only hours ago that he loved her. That he was lost no longer, that he wanted her love and affection above all else. Yet the papers were real, they were clear, they would be final. Sarah's limbs were shaking, and she feared she would be ill as she rushed from the library towards her room. She stumbled on the stairs, landing hard on her knees, clinging to the railing with one hand, and covering a sob with the other as panic overtook her. He did not want her. He did not love her. It was all a dream. Just as she had feared.

So distraught by her discovery, Sarah did not notice the man's approach until the sound of pistol hammer clicked beside her ear. Instantly looking up she found none other than Warwick standing over her, in her own home! Gathering the air to scream she moved to run, but Warwick only pressed the end of the pistol more closely to her chest.

"I would not if I were you."