Today is a Tuesday, and Tuesdays have only started to become more bearable, bringing a dull ache under her chest, not nearly as painful as when she was alone.

Their marriage had done her a good thing, she fell into a habit with a man who went about his responsibilities in the day, paid her enough attention and sometimes more in the evenings, and then formed a nice and warm friendship with him all days of the week. But what healed her heart, Sarah Jane surmised, was that she was surrounded by people who were going to be her constants.

Every hour of the future days is going to be filled with love.

Sarah Jane silently moved from the bed, her limbs heavy and creaking in annoyance as her body demanded rest. It had been weeks after she had married Anthony, and it had been weeks of daily and nightly tumbles that she thought Anthony might have gone mad.

Deliriously so.

She stood from the bed, stark naked and cold, immediately missing the comforting presence of the lightly snoring human who laid beside her. She picked a discarded negligee on the floor, shivering as the cold satin touched her skin.

Anthony had seduced her in the middle of writing a response to Anne. Anne was not surprised that she married Anthony, but the wedding happened so fast that when her friend found out about it, it was already over.

Quickly scribbling her thoughts with the quill, she heard Anthony stirring, the covers bunching and scrunching on the bed behind her as her quill dipped back in the ink well.

"Good morning," She greeted sweetly without looking back. The small hairs of her nape could immediately detect if he was staring at her.

"Why aren't you naked?" His voice responded gravelly and husky from sleep.

Her mouth turned up at the corner. Yes, her husband was still utterly mad and delirious. "I can't very well write a letter while naked."

"Why not?"

She heard his feet drop to the floor, his footsteps causing the floor to creak with his weight. His fingers reaching her, wrapping around her shoulders, and splayed warmly on her neck.

Sarah Jane sighed, she was also utterly mad and delirious for him. "If I was naked all the time, then you would seduce me all the time, and I would not have gotten anything done."

He kissed the top of her head, amusement dripping from his voice as he said, "Your clothes won't deter me from seducing you."

"You must get dressed, Monsieur Shawborne will be here soon to do your portraiture."

He groaned, that man is an imbecile. "Mr. Shawborne fancies himself to be French, but his last name will never allow him to succeed in this useless attempt." His fingers started to dip lower, bringing his hand gently resting on her chest.

Even as he detested this particular painter, Anthony had to concede that all the Shawbornes had talent. Almost all the Killsworth portraitures were done by Monsieur Shawborne's ancestors, but this particular French-speaking, two-left-feet waddling, Monsieur Shawborne had his talents still untested, and therefore absolutely questionable.

Maybe he could seduce Sarah Jane back to his bed and forget all about this portraiture nonsense.

Sarah Jane glanced back at him long enough to notice his thoughtful, yet devious, demeanor. She faced her letter resolutely, dipping the quill back into the well.

"And you will never succeed with what you are planning as I am most determinedly inclined to finish this letter."

An hour later, Anthony had found himself pleased to have been staring at Sarah Jane's coiffure that had loosened under his fingers. Her bunched-up skirts, and flushed cheeks surrounding him as he had succeeded in seducing her while the Monsieur was taking a break.

Sarah Jane had coerced him into meeting the portraitist earlier that morning, but after an hour, both the painter and the muse had to take a short reprieve, and Anthony rather thought that this was absolutely the best way to spend his reprieve.

He had caught Sarah Jane in the middle of household affairs. Not that she ever turned down his advances, but Anthony was absurdly pleased with succeeding to seduce her behind the grand vase—as they now call it, although it should technically be called an amphora.

Her head was bowed, eyes closed, her hands laid atop his shoulders as they both caught their breaths. Limbs tangled in the most compromising position, they both snickered as they failed at keeping themselves obscure behind the vase, nee, amphora.

Anthony had never felt so free as to this very moment.

"My lord." Robinson eyed them warily, unsure if it would be wise to disturb them in such states.

Anthony looked up, his hand guiding to Sarah Jane's back as he soothed her in circles, subtly trying to right themselves up. "Yes?"

He cleared his throat. "You have a visitor."

"Who is it?"

"A noblewoman. She came all the way from Yorkshire eager to meet the Lord of the house as well as the new Lady Killsworth."

Robinson had not been hired as Kinsmen Place's butler as Anthony was fond of his old and aging butler. His father had hired this estate's butler, and it would be a shame to let him go just to give Mr. Robinson his position. Instead, he hired Robinson as his estate's steward. The man had a natural talent in agriculture and management, and truthfully, Anthony did not think that he could have done a better job than him. Both Mr. and Mrs. Robinson lived in a cottage separate from Kinsmen Place, but they lived close enough for his wife's comfort.

"Yorkshire?" Sarah Jane's head was up, and her fingers were gingerly fixing her coiffure as she eyed Robinson curiously. "Is it...?"

Robinson nodded and gestured to her hair. "You might want to..."

She shook her head vigorously, allowing her hair to completely loosen and fall in a thick curtain of ashen hair around her face. With both hands, she arranged her hair atop her head and secured it inside thick pulled strands.

She looked like a delectable governess.

Lord and Lady Killsworth allowed Robinson to lead them to where they will be receiving the guest, and to Sarah Jane's pleasure, they were brought to her favorite Seafoam Parlor.

"Lord and Lady Killsworth," The middle-aged woman greeted immediately, rising from her seat.

"Lady Rosenberg?" Sarah Jane was surprised that their guest was the Scottish countess of the 10th earl. She had come to visit her. Why? Is she still Lady Rosenberg? Sarah Jane had forgotten about this inheritance problem.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides, her mouth stretching with joy and warmth just as how Sarah Jane fondly remembered of her. "It is Lady Martin for some time now," her voice was soft and sweet, yet had also revealed tiredness from the commute or her life in general, Sarah Jane didn't dare speculate.

They held hands for quite some time and sat across each other in the set.

Anthony took his seat primly and supportively beside Sarah Jane, eager to know what this was about. He had since stopped communicating with Mr. Collins, and as he took his vows at the altar, he had also vowed not to keep anything from his wife, especially when it was related to this mess of an inheritance.

"I requested you to come live with us when Mr. Collins had dropped for a visit, but it was only recently that he informed me that you have married. Naturally, I had to come to see for myself."

Naturally? There was nothing natural about it. Sarah Jane was taken aback. Lady Rosenberg—Lady Martin rather, never reached out to her nor replied to her correspondences years after she had been booted out of her spinster sister's castle.

"You've come to offer us your congratulations?" Because really, what else would be the reason for her visit.

"Yes," She looked at Lord Killsworth, and after assessing that indeed, Sarah Jane had made a good match, "Congratulations to both of you."

Anthony accepted it graciously, draping his arm casually, and a little territorially over his wife's shoulder.

The conversation lulled into an awkward silence, and they all welcomed sounds of the arriving maids whose tea service clattered noisily into the room.

Anthony also silently assessed Lady Martin, she could not be more than forty-five. What could be her business here? The last time they heard about Lady Martin and Yorkshire from Mr. Collins, the man had threatened to bring Sarah Jane all the way up north. Mr. Collins seems to be in the impression that the current Lord Rosenberg resides there, and if Anthony remembers it correctly, Rosenberg is this woman's son.

"I had thought that your son with the 10th Earl would make you Lady Rosenberg again." Anthony began, earning a startled glance from both ladies. "Mr. Collins wrote to me before all this."

Lady Martin nodded, fixing herself a hot cup. "It is true that my son inherited the Rosenberg title, but my husband, Lord Martin is still very much alive."

Sarah Jane was relieved that whatever confusing curse the Rosenberg title had is now out of their hands and future. Granted, that boy was going to be confused with both titles he would be inheriting, but Sarah Jane could not have cared less. The title and its entailments had only brought her misery, save for the fact that she had met Anthony because of it.

She nodded and waited if Lady Martin cared to share anything else.

The lady did look like she wanted to say something else, and Lord and Lady Killsworth both looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat. "The fact of the matter is, Sarah Jane... May I still call you that?" She hesitantly gave Anthony a glance.

Sarah Jane nodded, "Of course, my lady."

"I have not come to visit just to offer my congratulations."

Well, they gathered as much.

"I wanted to ease myself of the guilt as well." She swallowed, retreating back in the seat as the interest of her audience peaked. "As you well know, my marriage with Lord Rosenberg produced my lovely girls, but before he died I had become with child, a son, my first son." She blinked, unsure if she should discuss this with a mere acquaintance. Before today, she had never met Lord Killsworth, and their topic was embarrassingly delicate.

"Lord Rosenberg was a brute, and he had many women." She started, eyeing Sarah Jane sympathetically. Anthony didn't miss the implication, and his hand tightened around his wife's shoulder. "Long before I brought you to my sister, I had started an affair with Lord Martin."

Sarah Jane's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be?

"Lord Martin had had his doubts, but he adores me and already thinks of Edmund as his." She shifted uncomfortably at the admission. "I have no hesitations that Edmund is his, but with the return of Mr. Collins for the title, Lord Martin is considering to only claim Edward, my second son, as his one true heir."

Her eyes seem to be tearing up, "Lord Martin claims that it is only right that both his sons become true peers, but my heart breaks for Edmund. Edmund always believed that he was to be the Martin heir, and would hate to be related to my late husband."

Her tale finished, and she purchased a cloth in her reticule to dab at her moist eyes.

Anthony leaned forward, his elbows touching his knees as he spoke to Lady Martin. "Truly, I do understand your plight, Lady Martin. However, please enlighten us as I fail to see what this has to do with my wife and me."

She blinked her tears away, smoothing her rumpled velvet skirts. "I suppose I wanted to let you know that I had wanted to relinquish the Rosenberg title. If that is set, then I think Mr. Collins will have to come to look for you Lord Killsworth."

"There is no law that may bequeath an earldom to a mere friend, Lady Martin. It was a misconception that it was to be given to me." Anthony eyed the woman as he spoke lowly, they had to be careful of any eavesdroppers due to the delicacy of the matter.

"The real arrangement was if and when the Rosenberg title becomes relinquished back to the King, I am promised to marry Sarah Jane, but as I have done that already, and so I fail to see how the Rosenberg title is still or will become any of our concern." There was no need to be biting really, but Anthony had finally achieved some peace, and by bringing this Rosenberg title back in his house will only cause trouble.

Hell, it might even cause him his demise, if he were to become superstitious about it.

Sarah Jane reached out to Lady Martin and held her hands tightly in hers. "Lady Martin, it might be best if you may put a mind to consider it your luck that both your children have titles and entailed lands on their own. The Killsworth title may not be as wealthy and prestigious as the Rosenberg title, but we are happy here." She smiled at the older woman encouragingly, "I have been married but a few weeks, and I shall not want to trouble ourselves to go to court and present King George with a case to claim the Rosenberg title. It will also make Lord Martin uncomfortable as I am sure gossip will circulate of Edmund's legitimacy. It is a huge headache, really."

Sarah Jane even thought that the scandal would extend for years on end. "Think about how Edmund would feel about this too, and Edward. Edmund wouldn't know his true heritage and Edward would be in and out of an inherited title."

They were silent as Lady Martin absorbed her words.

The decision was, of course, up to Lady Martin. She could just explain the whole situation to her son, or bring it to court and let the members of the parliament dissect it and bare it to society.

In any case, Sarah Jane and Anthony will stay out of it, no matter what.

Half an hour later, Lord and Lady Killsworth stood on their front steps waving Lady Martin goodbye as she was guided by a coachman to her carriage. She still seemed undecided with what to do with her son's inheritance, but at the very least, she was relieved of the fact that she had let Sarah Jane know that she could have made a claim should she wanted to.

Why the parliament hadn't thought of just bequeathing the inheritance to the available daughter and save everyone of this trouble, Anthony couldn't even begin to understand. If they were more modern-minded, maybe they could have been using their time in deciding upon things that really matter, like wages and healthcare, or clean water.

Anthony shook his head, silently tutting at the absurdity of the government and held Sarah Jane close to his chest, comfortably absorbing her nearness and warmth. Country life agreed with him, and he would never trade this for the false sophistication that London brought with its pangs. "Come, the clouds look like they bring rain"

Sarah Jane smiled, linked her arms with her husband as he brought her back into the house.

It was a Tuesday, and it was not sunny and bright, but Sarah Jane didn't care. She would always go with him. The mere predictability and security of her future brought her more at ease and more pleasure than any warm jam she had ever made.

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A/N: Thank you, everyone! If you have any comments or just want to fangirl with me, please, do not hesitate to converse with me in the comments! I just feel like I'm in cloud nine for finishing this novel. I'm so in love with them!