There had been much shouting pertaining to my state of being, followed by a familiar voice soon thereafter, demanding to know if I was all right. Even though there were assurances, the familiar voice seemed adamant that I be moved elsewhere, much to another voice's consternation. The familiar voice won out, however, and I was moved, judging by the recognizable movement of a carriage, as well as strong arms holding me in one position. With great care, I was taken on the carriage journey, and then came the sound of a door opening, followed by an ascension of a staircase, before I was placed upon the softest featherbed I could ever imagine.

It was on this bed that I opened my eyes for the first time, taking in my surroundings slowly. I first saw that the four-poster bed I lay in was done up in blue velvet drapes, alongside a matching duvet and canopy, which were very fine indeed. The walls were painted a paler shade of blue, while the rest of the furniture—a fine bookcase up against the left side wall, an elegantly-appointed wardrobe, and a carved vanity table with French and Italian influences in its design—were all made of rosewood as well. There was also a bay window directly opposite the bed, where drapes, the same shade as the ones hanging from my bed, hung. There was a seat with a blue velvet cushion, and I could hear the sound of carriages walking down below, alongside people chattering to themselves; I considered it a proper place to read.

Upon the bookshelf boasted many popular books of the day—the works of Shakespeare, along with Don Quixote and Robinson Crusoe among them. As I sat up in the grand bed, I also took note of a beautiful jewelry box, placed just so upon the vanity table. It had gilt edges, along with small paintings of flowers on each side, with a blooming tulip acting as its topper, which the user would utilize to open it. I tried not to think about its contents as I lowered my eyes to the highly-polished hardwood floor, which were covered intermittently by blue rugs, thus cementing the theme of the room from floor to ceiling. A small chandelier hung from the ceiling, its candles unlit, with its crystals shimmering in the stripe of silvery light which emitted from the small crack of the window's curtains.

There were two doors; one, I presumed, led out into the hallway and into the rest of the house. I could see from my bed that the second led into a bathroom, as I could see a bathtub from the little portion visible to me, alongside the white porcelain corner of a sink. In between the wardrobe and the vanity table was a fireplace; I could see that one had been lit some time ago, as its embers were close to dying. It was a well-cleaned room, however, and it wasn't smoke which woke me up, but the natural progression of my body informing me to do so.

I pushed myself up into a sitting position as the door to the hallway rattled for a moment, and I made a grab for the duvet to cover myself. For the first time, I noticed that I was wearing a white nightgown, much higher in quality than the one Mercy had loaned me, this one with lace towards the bust, with a white silk ribbon tied in a small bow. I looked up at the door and breathed a sigh of relief as Claire stepped through it, but was a little shocked when she initially caught sight of me, and darted towards me. I watched as she placed her medical kit onto a chair, which had been placed just beside my bed, before perching on the bed itself and wrapping her arms around me, although I was pleased by it, and embraced her as well.

"Thank goodness you're all right," she breathed, before pulling back. "Are you all right?" she asked then, placing the back of her hand upon my forehead. "No fever..." She gently ran her hands through my hair. "...and you don't have a bump. How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right," I assured her, smiling slightly. "But would you mind telling me where...?" I took in the richness of my nightgown again, as well as the furnishings. "We're at John's house, aren't we?" I asked, my voice shaking a bit.

"Number Seventeen Chestnut Street," Claire informed me patiently. "Yes. John insisted we bring you here after you fainted at Tobias and Lydia's home yesterday afternoon."

I breathed a sigh of relief; that made it Tuesday, which meant that John and I were due to be married in three days' time. I also knew that it was considered controversial for an engaged couple to live under the same roof; however, I knew John had servants, and if Claire was here, so was Jamie, so it wasn't as if we were unsupervised, not to mention the fact that I was already pregnant. "I remember a pair of arms, holding me in a carriage..."

Claire's expression softened. "He hired one of the largest carriages I'd ever seen to transport you back here, and had the chambers already prepared for you," she explained. "While I sat on one side of the carriage, John had the other, holding you as one would a collection of rare and precious stones... He truly cares for you, Alexandra."

I flushed at that, running my fingers against the softness of the duvet to ground me in reality. "I was in for quite a shock when I first met Tobias... Did you know he looks identical to my father, Raymond?" I whispered.

Claire looked stunned. "No, but Eliza Chisholm resembles how I believe you will look when you achieve middle age," she mused. "Eliza is his aunt, apparently, I gleaned that much from how Tobias and Lydia have been addressing her..."

"Have been?" I asked, my gaze locking back onto Claire's. "Do you mean to tell me that Tobias, Lydia, and Eliza are here?"

"Yes, they came in another carriage just behind us; they were as worried for you as John has been for the last day," she said quietly.

"But what about Charlotte?" I pressed. "You were meant to look at her toothache..."

"I administered an appropriate remedy and left her in the hands of Flora and Peg," Claire told me with a small smile. "She should be up and about by today, tomorrow at the latest." She reached out and took me by the hand. "You are very considerate, Alexandra, but you sustained quite a shock, which outweighs that of a mere toothache."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I need some answers, and I think that Tobias and Eliza can give them to me," I said. "Am I well?"

Claire blinked. "Yes, you are. You should take it easy for the rest of today and tomorrow, however. No going out, and plenty of resting up. You could, perhaps, go on a short excursion on Thursday, but nothing too taxing, as you're due to be married on Friday."

I nodded, and pushed aside the duvet. "I need to speak to Tobias and Eliza—"

Claire stopped my progress from getting up. "All right," she said gently, "but first you should take a bath. I'll summon Mrs. Figg, John's housekeeper, for some hot water. Then, we'll put on one of the gowns he ordered for you."

"One of...?" I ceased attempting to extract myself from the bed and stared, open mouth, at Claire as she made to summon Mrs. Figg. "He ordered gowns for me?"

"Along with several pairs of stockings, shoes, and appropriate jewelry," Claire informed me with a small smile. "He intends to spoil you as the new Lady John Grey, Alexandra. As his wife, you will be within the upper echelons of society."

I very much wanted to pull the duvet, and quite possibly the feather pillows, over my head, but waited for Mrs. Figg to arrive, whereupon Claire introduced us, and she seemed quite pleased with me as her future mistress. I thanked her for sounding the alarm, as it were, and bringing up buckets of water with the other housemaids so quickly, and, not even a quarter of an hour later, I was sitting in a steaming bath with lavender to keep me calm, Claire on hand in case I needed anything further. I decided to save the washing of my hair for the night before my wedding, and Claire helped me brush and style it expertly, and I was put in a pale blue gown which was appropriate for the morning and afternoon, along with suitable stockings and shoes, plus a pair of sapphire earrings and a necklace.

"Quite lovely," Claire declared.

I grimaced ever so slightly. "I don't know, Claire. Do you think it's too much?"

"The jewels are delicate, not extravagant," Claire told me gently. "Such things are perfect for an informal gathering at your future home. It's not as if there's going to be a grand ball or dinner this evening. I think you look wonderful."

"All right," I said quietly, knowing entirely well that Claire likely understood the styles of the day far better than I did.

I felt relieved when she took me by the arm and led me out of the bedchamber and downstairs, where ornate portraits of landscapes and ladies and gentlemen I'd never heard of stared down at us. I noticed that the parlor door was open once we reached the base of the staircase, and that Tobias was speaking softly to Jamie, Eliza, and Lydia, only stopping when he saw me approaching with Claire. I found myself gently loosening my arm from Claire's and dashed forward, something within me propelling me closer to Tobias, and he caught at my arms in a fashion that was someone as desperate for information as I was.

"Are you all right?" he breathed.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," I assured him, my voice as breathless as his. I was hardly aware of Claire stepping into the room behind me and standing behind one of the settees, the one Lydia was currently occupying, while Eliza sat on the one opposite her, and Jamie stood just behind the settee she sat on. "Claire pronounced me well..."

Tobias, not letting go of me, turned to Eliza. "Auntie Eliza, I believe we all need some answers now," he said softly. "We have waited long enough."

Eliza Chisholm raised a red brow to her nephew, leaned on the intricately woven staff she kept by her side, and nodded her head. "Aye, I believe ye dae," she responded, her voice a rich, Scottish brogue. "Best sit yerselves down, 'tis a long tale."

Tobias approached the settee that Lydia sat on, and permitted me to sit first, while he took the seat in between me and his wife. "All right, Auntie Eliza. We are sitting."

Eliza fixed Claire with a look. "The way ye speak... I knew ye were a traveler. Did ye come by way of Craigh na Dun?"

Claire gaped, while Jamie gripped the top of the settee he stood in front of. "Well... Yes. The first time was in 1945, and I traveled back to 1743. The second was in 1746, and I returned to my own time in 1948. Finally, when things were resolved enough, I came back, from 1968, and found Jamie, my husband, again, in 1766."

Eliza nodded. "I knew it too," she said softly, her voice far away, as she gazed temporarily into the roaring fire. "When I was but a wee lass, I wasnae understood by me own family. My sister was the pretty one, while I favored books. We were fostered out to our uncle, Stephen, our mother's elder brother, in England, from Scotland, at the age of eleven, to attend Cheltenham Ladies' College."

Claire and I respectively gasped at her words, while Jamie, Lydia, and Tobias looked at all of us, with a fair amount of confusion. "That will not open until the Victorian Era," Claire said at last, her voice trembling.

Eliza gave Claire a small smile. "Aye; it was in 1905 that my sister and I were sent... We were borne of the same womb, at the same time, mind..."

"Ye were twins," Jamie observed.

Eliza turned to look at him for a moment, before she nodded. "Aye. The pregnancy killed our ma, and our da only wanted his sons, Duncan and Alec... He got himself a new bride, Bridget, who was cold and cruel. Got herself two fine lads within a couple years, and succeeded in getting our da to drive us off the farm. Our mother's brother, Stephen, was written to in haste, and he agreed tae take us, as his daughter, Violet, was due tae attend the ladies' college as well. My sister and I went tae England, and we boarded at the school. We were educated well, as was tae be expected, but then..." She shook her head. "...she met him."

"Her husband?" I asked softly, speaking to her for the first time.

Eliza's eyes locked with mine. "Aye," she responded, "my twin sister, Erica Morrison, met her husband, Raymond Hathaway, shortly before our commencement from the college."

"My parents?" Tobias and I asked her at the same time, before turning to each other.

"Your parents?" Tobias asked.

I nodded. "Also yours, apparently," I responded.

"She managed tae scrape by," Eliza said, making her feelings of disdain towards her twin sister perfectly known, "and got in with the Hathaway family rather quickly. I didnae like them, as Theodore Hathaway was a weak man, so in love with his German wife, Seraphine Mittermeier, that he worshiped the very ground she walked on..." Eliza looked as if she wanted to spit, but refrained from doing so. "I am no' prejudiced against Germans, but I am when their way of thinking of shameful."

"Shameful?" Tobias asked. "How?"

"Dear lad, yer granny was a Nazi," she said plainly.

Claire, Tobias, and I all hissed at the word.

"I thought it was only Mutter and Vater," I said, my voice trembling, especially at the recollection that I was ordered to refer to them as those names in German, as they believed it to be a superior language. "They... They never discussed their families," I continued, thinking about it for several moments. "That shocks me, especially given that you say that Seraphine and Raymond had the same ideals..."

"Because yer granddad was a ruddy weakling, and yer granny died of tuberculosis soon after she returned to Germany, after yer granddad died from influenza," Eliza replied.

Lydia turned to look at Claire and me. "Tuberculosis?" she asked.

I felt Claire's hand upon my shoulder and squeezing it, communicating that, while I knew the proper answer, I wouldn't mind her answering for me.

"Consumption," Claire answered softly. "There will, one day, in 1921, be a vaccine, but many individuals either did not know about it, did not wish to know about it, didn't trust it, or simply did not care."

"Do the two of you have the vaccine?" Lydia asked.

I nodded. "Yes," I answered, and Claire nodded as well.

"I was aware of a vaccine in development, but I knew that I had tae take Tobias and run at the first opportunity, when it presented itself," Eliza said softly.

Tobias looked perturbed. "How did you find me?" he asked softly. "From what you said, Erica was not in contact with you..."

"She wasnae," Eliza agreed. "I had a friend, a nurse, Winnie Wright, who informed me about a baby that had just left the hospital, the British Hospital for Mothers and Babies..."

"That's where I was born," I said softly, recognizing the name, before turning to Tobias. "Where we were born," I corrected myself.

"Aye," Eliza said, nodding. "She mentioned to me that the little boy, named Tobias Raymond Hathaway, shared my surname, and was born to my sister and her husband. The baby had been abandoned because he was poorly, sickly, while his twin sister, Alexandra Conradina Hathaway, had been taken by the parents, as she was considered healthy."

I felt my jaw drop at the very thought of it. "How cruel!" I cried out.

Claire squeezed my shoulder. "As cruel as it is, it is a fairly common practice," she said quietly, although her voice was filled with condemnation for our birth parents.

"Even in those days, despite the rampant hangings for those crimes, baby farming—"

"No," Claire gasped, obviously aware of it, and I squeezed her hand.

"...aye," Eliza continued, her voice grave, and not at all upset by Claire's interruption. "Winnie told me that Tobias had been collected by a woman, whose name she didnae know, but was known by others as a baby farmer. I got a telephone call at the office I worked in, as a secretary for a number of lawyers; it was considered a respectable position. Everyone was very surprised that I'd received a phone call, as I was thought tae be a wee mouse who never socialized. I was surprised to hear from Winnie, and that she would be Winnie Blanchard soon, as she was leaving the vocation tae get married to her doctor fiancé, a Dr. Blanchard. She told me that I had a nephew, who had been given away, and gave me this woman's details..."

"What was her name?" Claire asked.

"Helene Auguste Geisen-Volk," Eliza answered.

Claire looked apoplectic. "She was a serial killer in America," she breathed, "who was later convicted of murdering fifty-three babies. She would only get three and a half to seven years for what was a hanging offense... She must have fled rather quickly after you got Tobias, as she was first made note of in New York in 1918."

"Aye, she was given quite a start when I arrived with a story that I was marrit and wanted custody of my nephew," Eliza said flatly. "She didnae ask me for verification, just a payment of £25, which was half of my savings, which I gladly gave her. She handed Tobias right over, and, thankfully, I'd had the sense to bring plenty of nappies, and Winnie was able to provide me with some breast milk from the hospital, never asked her how she got it..."

"Nappies?" Lydia asked, obviously unfamiliar with the word.

"Clouts, my lass," Eliza said patiently. "I left England that day, having already given my notice at the law office, and returned to Scotland. I took a train from London to Inverness, near where our family farm was, and arrived home. Of course, my family never believed me when I told them that Tobias wasnae mine, and promptly turned me out. I walked along the hills until I came upon Craigh na Dun, and I could tell from Tobias's cries that he heard the sounds as well..."

"You went through the stones, with a baby?" Claire cried.

"I hadnae much choice in the matter, as the sounds were compelling me," Eliza said, fixing Claire with a look that read, Donae judge me for my antics, ye wee girl! "Tobias's screaming is what awoke me, on the other side, where we found shelter with Callum and Davina Armstrong, the latter of whom would become my sister-in-law, as her brother, Robert Chisholm, was in need of a bride."

"Robert kens about ye?" Jamie asked.

"Aye," Eliza said, peering at him for a moment, before nodding her head. "He didnae understand it, at first, but was willing to believe me, especially when our wedding night came, when I fully proved that Tobias wasnae mine."

Jamie awkwardly cleared his throat, while Tobias flushed.

"I cannae tell ye why yer ma and da decided to abandon ye, Tobias, and take ye with them, Alexandra," Eliza said softly, "but I can tell ye this—I wouldnae have it any other way. Ye are both in my life now, and I am thankful for that."

"Thank you, El—"

"I'm yer auntie, lassie," Eliza said, a gleam of amusement flickering across her face. "Ye have my permission to call me such."

I returned Eliza's smile. "Thank you, Auntie Eliza."

"Did ye have any bairns with Robert?" Jamie asked softly.

Eliza turned, regarding Jamie for a moment, before she nodded her head. "I kent I recognized ye, lad; yer auntie Jocasta is an old friend of mine."

Jamie blinked. "Ye ken my auntie?"

"Aye, and to answer yer first question, aye. Robert and I had three bairns—Jamesina, Elspeth, and Duncan. Two fine lasses and a fine, braw lad. The girls are marrit themselves, as is Duncan, newly so; my lassies are in Williamsburg now, with bairns of their own, while Duncan is in Richmond with his new bride." She turned and regarded me for a moment, before sadness crept into her eyes. "Would that I could have saved ye from the atrocities, lassie..."

I blinked. "Atrocities?"

Eliza gripped her staff tightly. "I ken what it is like to go through a war, lassie, and ye have that look about ye; Claire, too."

I sighed. "You're not wrong," I answered, feeling secure as Claire placed a comforting hand upon my shoulder again. "Claire and I both lived through the Second World War. She was stationed in France as a combat nurse, while I was in Germany with my parents... But how could you have known about it? It wasn't founded until 1920, and Hitler didn't get elected Chancellor of Germany until 1933, while you traveled when Tobias and I were babies, in 1917..."

Eliza looked uncomfortable. "My children came quickly, and I was missing my own time," she admitted with a small sigh. "Robert agreed that I could spend six months in my own time, at the most, tae attempt to make contact with ye. I returned during the Blitz; it was absolutely terrible, but, I knew I had to find Winnie. I soon discovered that she, as well as my da, stepmother, and all my brothers, were dead. I tracked down Catherine, Winnie's daughter, working as a nurse at St. Andrew's Hospital, who told me about her mother, while a handful of cousins informed me about my family. Catherine agreed to bring me back tae the stones, once I'd explained where I'd gone, and, though she thought me mad, she heard the buzzing as soon as we arrived."

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, she could travel?" Claire whispered.

"Aye, and she returned with me tae the eighteenth century, where she met and marrit my son, Peadar, a short time ago," Eliza replied.

"Claire is the foremost authority on the Second World War, Auntie Eliza," I informed her in a patient manner, "as she actually saw Hitler's defeat in 1945. It was 1944 when I left my timeline, you see, so I saw no end in sight, hence my desire to leave. I was also attacked," I said, feeling Claire's hand grounding me like an anchor, "which caused my quick flight, so to speak. I'm with child, and the father is a man named Christoph Hunfrid, whose own mother and father were SS Guards in Nazi Germany and Occupied Poland. He expressed an interest in me, and wouldn't accept it when I informed him that I shared no such interest in him."

Tobias gaped at me, while Lydia took his hand.

"Does John know?" she asked softly.

I nodded. "He does."

Lydia gave me a broad smile. "I knew he was a good man," she went on. "He was so protective of you, Alexandra, that I knew he must care for you..."

"Care for me?" I asked, promptly shaking my head. "He certainly likes me well enough, but he is old friends with both Jamie and Claire here. I believe that, while we've without doubt fostered a friendship between the pair of us, I cannot say that the care runs particularly deep, despite his gentlemanly manners and desire not to see me ruined—"

"Ah, I believe I shall request a word with my wife-to-be, on our own," said a familiar voice from the doorway of the parlor, and everyone turned to see John standing there. "Jamie, I believe Mrs. Figg has some of those shortbread biscuits you like in the kitchen..."

Eliza promptly snapped to attention. "Aye, a good Scottish shortbread is hard to find, but yer Mrs. Figg is a lovely lady, and I have complete confidence in her. Tobias, Lydia?" she asked, and the pair of them promptly went to her side, and assisted her in getting to her feet.

"Claire?" Jamie asked, holding out his hand for his wife, as Tobias and Lydia walked past him, their arms linked with Eliza's.

Claire squeezed my shoulder one last time, before she smiled at John and moved past him to take Jamie's offered hand, and the pair of them followed Tobias, Lydia, and Eliza into the kitchen, although she left the door open for our reputations.

John crossed the room once everyone had left it, and came to sit beside me upon the settee. "I see that the pair of us must have a conversation before our wedding in three days' time. That is, of course, if you are still desirous of marrying me."

I lowered my eyes, the shame bubbling within the forefront of my senses. "I am," I replied. "It is only the notion that I am completely unworthy of you, John. I've been ruined—"

John tentatively reached out and took my hand. "Through no fault of your own."

I gave him a small, grateful smile. "However, according to society, it is true. No, please, let me finish," I said, holding up a hand, and John's protests died upon his lips. "I..." I sighed, lowering my eyes, knowing that I had to tell him something about my past, although the part about me being a time traveler certainly couldn't be brought up, not yet. I cleared my throat. "I mentioned that I had a rather...difficult time in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth..."

John nodded. "I surmised as much when you did not mention your mother or father when you informed me of your attack," he answered. "Other than the notion that they seemed...close...to the family of your attacker."

"They were," I confirmed, "and when I mentioned that Christoph had expressed an interest, despite the notion that I myself did not share it, I was encouraged to keep my mouth shut, so to speak, and merely encourage him."

John's gaze darkened. "How could your mother and father do such a thing? Weren't they aware of his dangerous nature?"

"They saw him as coming from a good family, so his treatment of me went ignored," I answered rather sullenly. "Things came to a head at Christmas, during a celebration, where we were all gathered together. I love Christmas, but it soon turned sour when Christoph, drunk off of the excess beer we were permitted during holidays, led me towards a sprig of mistletoe, suspended from the ceiling, and forcefully kissed me..."

"Were you drinking?" John asked.

I shook my head, knowing he was not seeking to blame me; it was just curiosity. "I wasn't."

John considered that. "Do you ever drink?"

I shook my head again. "No. I can't stand alcohol. The smell of it turns my stomach."

John nodded. "All right. I apologize, please continue."

I sighed, remembering the day in question. "I pushed him away and slapped him, which led my mother to drag me out of the party. She made sure that everyone there knew she was going to teach me a lesson, and that was the last night I allowed myself to be alone with her..."

John looked stricken. "Dear God in heaven, Alexandra. What did she do to you?"

"She whipped me," I answered, and John looked horrified. "The lashings are still etched upon my back..."

John stared at me for several moments. "What else?" he asked at last.

"She carved the word schlampe underneath my left arm, which was simple for her to do, given that she tied me to the wall to whip me," I answered, wrapping my arms around myself and shutting my eyes, firmly believing that John would reject me now.

"Forgive me," John said softly, while I slowly opened my eyes, only to see that he was lifting his handkerchief to my face, and was using it to dry my tears.

I felt horrified as I stared at him. "You speak German."

John nodded. "Yes, I... I was...closely acquainted in the past with a German aristocrat, and he taught it to me. That is all I shall say on the matter, for your benefit," he said quickly. "I also speak French, Ancient Greek, and Italian."

I swallowed. "As do I," I responded, "but I also speak Gaelic and Polish."

"If you believe I would break my engagement with you because of what others who were supposed to protect you, as well as leave you alone, put you through, then you are mistaken, Alexandra Hathaway," John informed me gently. "I am not going to break our engagement, unless you are desirous of doing so." He shifted, so that he was sitting closer to me, and gently took my hands in his. "I want this to be a proper marriage, Alexandra, although it will be on your terms, and certainly not my own. It will have to have the outward appearance of me making all the decisions, but I will always consult you on things that pertain directly to you. I will give your child my name, and raise it as if it is my son or daughter. If you wish to have further children with me, I would welcome it. However, if you wish this to be your only child, our only child, then I would respect your wishes. If you don't wish to ever share a bed with me, then I would respect your wishes on that matter as well. In public, we would be expected to walk arm in arm, with an occasional kiss upon the hand or cheek, and dance with one another. If that is the only physicalness of a relationship you would like with me—"

"You want this to be a true marriage?" I asked him, sensing the underlying disappointment in his voice as he described what could likely prove to be a lonely marriage for us both.

"I would," John answered softly.

"But... But what about your preferences?" I wondered aloud, although softly, so that no one else but John would hear.

"I was loyal to Isobel, and so I shall be loyal to you," he replied.

I shook my head. "I don't wish for loyalty or fidelity if you feel compelled by our marriage vows to be so," I told him. "I want..." I shook my head. "What I want is impossible."

"What do you want?" John wanted to know.

"I want you to want me," I confessed. "I know that is out of the question, given that you are doing me a great favor by marrying me in the current situation I've found myself in, and that, given your preferences, you'd never want me as I do you—"

"Oh, I want you," John said, his voice low, so low that it was practically a growl, which directly caused goosebumps to fly across my flesh. "It is impossible not to want you, Alexandra. You plague my thoughts night and day, every moment, when all I want to do is drag you to the church and marry you, before I bed you, before shouting to the very heavens that you are mine and I am yours, but I cannot, due to your past, and I frequently condemn myself for my selfishness—"

I launched myself forward at that, my fingers wrapping around his cravat, while my other hand took hold of his cheek, and pressed my lips to his for the first time. I half wondered if I would feel a surge of panic, but, instead, I felt nothing but the warm of arousal and desire flowing through me as John parted his lips beneath mine, his tongue beginning its quest to find my own, which it soon did. I let out a gasp, which turned into a moan of surprise as he took ahold of my waist, his grip a gentle one, and held me there, despite knowing entirely well that I could leave at any moment, if I truly wished to, and I did not.

"Alexandra," John whispered, slowly pulling away from me.

"John," I whispered back.

John smiled, nuzzling my nose with his for a moment, before he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a black velvet box. Opening it with the pad of his thumb, he revealed a striking oval-shaped, beautiful green emerald in a platinum band, surrounded by a row of smaller, circular-shaped diamonds. He then rose from the settee and knelt before it, while I meanwhile attempted not to hyperventilate that the sight of one of the most beautiful rings I'd ever laid eyes upon. "Alexandra Hathaway, will you marry me?"

"Yes," I whispered, fanning my fingers and extending my arm outward, so that he could place the ring upon my finger.

John leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my finger, just below the ring. "And, in three-days-time, we shall be," he said softly.

After John's "proper" proposal, I showed off the ring to Lydia, Eliza, and Claire, who deemed it simply beautiful. Jamie mentioned that it matched my eyes, while Tobias said that John had chosen well on both accounts. Tobias, Eliza, and I filled John in on an approved-version of how we were family; John was only too pleased for me to have family members, and immediately invited them to the wedding.

It was on Thursday, just after breakfast, that Lydia came to see me. I had been reading Evalina or The History of a Young Woman's Entrance into the World, which had been recently published, and John had given it to me as an early wedding gift, having been familiar with the publisher back in England. It had only recently been published, but John somehow knew that it would be successful, and I was inclined to believe him.

"Alexandra?"

I looked up, smiling at Lydia. "Good morning, Lydia. We missed you at breakfast."

"Mrs. Figg brought some upstairs for me; I was unwell," she replied. "I am feeling much better now, however, and was wondering if you would take a walk with me."

I nodded, thinking it was a good idea to stretch my legs. "As long as we limit it to just walking, and not going very far. Claire said I'm not to exhaust myself before tomorrow."

Lydia grinned at me. "Of course not," she said. "Besides, we'd best get out of the house for a while, anyhow. Tobias is working, as is Claire, while John and Jamie are off somewhere together as usual. I think Mrs. Figg has already begun the preparations of the wedding supper, as well as your wedding cake."

I smiled at the notion of it; traditionally in these times, wedding cakes were fruitcakes, but when Mrs. Figg had discovered my distaste for the dish, she had immediately comes to me and asked what kind of cake I wanted. I had asked for a pound cake, as that was easy enough to make, and I was quite fond of it. I was pleased when Mrs. Figg patted my cheek indulgently, saying that she would make the best pound cake I had ever tasted.

"Between you and me," Lydia said a few moments later, as we gathered our cloaks from the front hall, "I don't like fruitcake either."

I made my way outside with Lydia, thankful for the warmth of my cloak, which draped around me in such a way that it concealed my growing belly. My dress fittings had taken up quite a bit of my time, with Mercy and Daphne coming over to the house twice since I'd awakened, and ensured that my belly would be concealed enough on the day of. The layers of fabric certainly helped, as only John, Claire, Jamie, Tobias, Eliza, Lydia, Mercy, Daphne, and Mrs. Figg knew of my rather delicate condition, and were sworn to secrecy.

"Oh, I've been meaning to ask," I said to Lydia as we walked down the sidewalk, "would you like to be my Matron of Honor, alongside my dear friend, Miss Rachel Hunter?"

Lydia looked touched by my statement. "I would, thank you, Alexandra," she answered. "I'm sure I will adore Rachel. What is she like?"

"She is a few years younger than we are, and engaged to Jamie's nephew, Ian," I explained, and Rachel nodded, having been given the backgrounds of the Fraser and Murray families, as she had already been vaguely aware of the MacKenzie one, due to Auntie Eliza's friendship with Jocasta, Jamie's aunt. "She is a Quaker, as is her elder brother, Denny, whom you've heard about, due to Claire's close contact with him, as a fellow surgeon."

Lydia nodded. "Many Quakers live in Chester, and they are absolutely lovely. Although Tobias and I are Catholic, we have several neighbors who are Quaker, and we speak to them regularly, and have no ill will towards them. I am positive I will like Rachel very much."

I kept walking with Lydia for several moments, discussing things that were neither here nor there, when a blast of sea air wafted into our faces. "I never liked the air of the sea, and, especially now, it's made worse," I said softly to Lydia, wrinkling my nose.

Lydia gave me a small smile. "I'm not fond of it either, especially now," she replied, placing a hand upon her belly.

I stopped walking and turned to Lydia, my eyes wide. "Are you with child?"

Lydia beamed at me. "I am," she responded, looking altogether delightful. "That was why I couldn't come down to breakfast this morning, and Claire checked me over herself. I haven't bled in a few weeks, and Claire says I'll likely have the baby by next spring."

I threw my arms around Lydia, joyful. "Our children will be the best of friends," I told her.

"And cousins," Lydia responded, giggling.

We continued down the street, past the port, where several sailors, fisherman, and captains milled about. Captains shouted orders, fisherman gathered their catch of the day, and the sailors obeyed their captains. I remembered that Claire had said that Brianna's husband, Roger, had come over on a ship from Scotland, and had been made to sail up the coast, thus inadvertently left Brianna where they had been in Virginia.

"Out ye wee Nigra!" came a hateful shout from a nearby tavern, and a large, burly man with a dark brown beard shoved a young black woman out onto the sidewalk. "We dinnae need ye filthy, no-working sort here!" he informed her, his voice full of hate, as he slammed the door behind her, the windows of the tavern shaking.

I turned and regarded the woman; she was young, with a clear face and large, almond-shaped, dark brown eyes. I tentatively stepped forward, as she grabbed her meager belongings, looking so lost, that my heart went out to her. "Pardon me," I said, stepping forward, and sympathized with her as she immediately drew back. "It's all right," I assured her, my voice calm, as I held up my hands, showing her that I was unarmed and not going to hurt her. "My name is Alexandra. I was going to ask if you were all right?"

The woman hesitated, before looking past me.

"Sorry," I said quickly, as Lydia stepped up behind me. "This is my sister-in-law, Lydia. She won't harm you either."

"Pleasure to meet you," Lydia said genuinely.

"What's your name?" I asked her softly.

"My... My name is Phaedre," she answered at last, and the poor girl was shaking, as if she was fearful we would raise a hand to her.

"That man should never have called you such a thing," I informed her, and Phaedre appeared shocked at my vehemence. "My husband-to-be lives not too far from here. Would you like to accompany us there, and get warm, perhaps have a meal?"

Phaedre looked stunned. "Forgive me, miss, but I must look for work..."

"I am in need of a ladies maid," I said quickly, hating myself for taking advantage of her in her time of need, but I was determined to help her. "My husband-to-be has asked me to establish my household, as we are to marry tomorrow. Do you have experience in that area?"

Phaedre fixed me with a look. "I am a slave, miss."

I knew I had very well stuck my foot in it, so I shook my head. "I apologize, Phaedre, truly. I did not mean anything by it."

Phaedre sighed. "It is not you, miss." She shook her head. "All right. I shall accompany you for the hot meal...and I shall consider your job offer, if..."

"If you're freed?" Lydia guessed.

Phaedre nodded. "Yes."

"My husband shall do everything in his power to do so, I know he will," I assured her. "The house is this way," I said, gesturing in the opposite direction.

Phaedre followed us back to Chestnut Street, looking at the grandeur around her with distrust, and I didn't blame her.

"It's all right," I assured her countless times, as we climbed the steps and opened the door, and were immediately hit with delicious smells and the warmth of the house. "You're safe here, I promise you," I said softly.

"My dear? Is that you?" John called from the parlor.

"Yes, just coming!" I answered, hanging up my cloak upon the peg, and Phaedre looked shocked at my growing belly. "It's all right. I was attacked, and my husband-to-be is not the father, but is marrying me anyhow for protection."

Phaedre blinked. "He sounds like a gentleman," she said at last.

Lydia placed her hand upon my arm. "Forgive me, but I need to lie down."

I smiled at her. "Of course. See you later." I led Phaedre into the parlor, while Lydia went upstairs to rest. I saw that John had his nose in that days copy of The Pennsylvania Packet and Daily Advertiser, while Jamie polished his good boots for the wedding the following day, and Claire was reading the most recent edition of Medicina Curiosa.

"Phaedre?" Jamie said, looking up from his polishing.

Claire immediately looked over, and her eyes widened. "Phaedre!" she said, getting to her feet and rushing over. "Are you all right? Are you ill?"

John, in the meantime, put aside his newspaper, while Jamie did so to his boots, and the pair of them joined us on the other side of the parlor. "Phaedre, what happened?"

Phaedre looked uncertainly at me, and I nodded at her.

"Her employer threw her out," I said distastefully.

"At the tavern?" Jamie asked.

"Which tavern?" John wanted to know.

"The Copper Stool," Claire said, shaking her head as she brought Phaedre over to one of the settees, the one she had vacated.

"Dear God in heaven, what happened?" John queried.

"My... Mr. de Vries wanted me to service his customers in...other ways," she said, hanging her head in shame as she whispered the last part.

"We kent what ye mean, lass," Jamie said, letting her know that she didn't need to discuss it any further with us.

"Well, you're safe here, Phaedre, for however long you would like to stay," John told her.

"Miss Alexandra offered me the position of her ladies maid," Phaedre said, lifting her head to stare at John. "I will take it," she continued, looking at me for a moment.

"It is not conditional of your staying here, Phaedre," John assured her.

"Miss Alexandra is kind," Phaedre responded. "I wish to work for her."

"Phaedre wishes to be manumitted," I put in, unknowing how she would bring it up. "Do we know where her papers are?"

"Aye, I have them," Jamie responded, and Claire looked at him, shocked. "I took possession of them when Auntie Jocasta... Well," he said, clearing his throat. "John, I shall sign them over tae ye, and ye can free her."

Claire watched as Jamie and John left the room, before turning to regard Phaedre. "I'll give you an examination, to ensure you're healthy."

"I never let those men hurt me," Phaedre said quickly.

Claire gave Phaedre a soft smile. "Of course you didn't," she assured her. "However, it will put my mind at ease."

The papers to free Phaedre were signed and signed quickly, yet I was relieved that she had decided to stay with us. She was given new clothes, permitted to take a bath, and given a nicely-appointed room in the servants quarters. Mrs. Figg took an immediate shine to her, telling her that she would be permitted to assist in the preparation of the wedding supper while John and I were at the church.

I was put into my green gown, thanking all the deities that it still fit me, and bundled into a carriage with Lydia and Rachel the following afternoon. I was pleased that Lydia and Rachel got on so well, and knew that the three of us were on the way to becoming great friends. When we arrived at the church, I went inside promptly, with Lydia and Rachel going inside the sanctuary, and I smiled as I spotted Jamie waiting for me in the narthex.

"Are ye ready, lass?" he asked with a broad smile.

I nodded, returning his smile. "I am."

I stepped through to the sanctuary, holding onto Jamie's arm, and felt a bit flushed as John turned to look at me for the first time. I was vaguely aware of William standing behind John, and that Jamie would also be standing there once he'd finished walking me down the aisle. Upon the other side of the altar stood Rachel and Lydia, while in the foremost pew sat Claire, Ian, Eliza, and Jocasta, who had mercifully made it in time for the wedding.

I beamed at Jamie as he handed me off to John, before he stood beside William. I felt grounded as John held my hands, and we turned to the priest as one.

"Now, please repeat after me," the priest said. "I, John..."

"I, John," John responded.

"...take thee, Alexandra Conradina..."

"...take thee, Alexandra Conradina..."

"...to be my lawfully wedded wife."

"...to be my lawfully wedded wife."

"To have and to hold..."

"To have and to hold..."

"...for better, for worse..."

"...for better, for worse..."

"...for richer, for poorer..."

"...for richer, for poorer..."

"...in sickness and in health..."

"...in sickness and in health..."

"...to love and to cherish..."

"...to love and to cherish..."

"...till death us do part..."

"...till death us do part..."

"...in accordance to God's holy law."

"...in accordance to God's holy law."

"In the presence of God I make this vow."

"In the presence of God I make this vow."

The priest nodded with satisfaction at John, before he turned to me. "Now, please repeat after me. I, Alexandra..."

"I, Alexandra..."

"...take thee, John William..."

"...take thee, John William..."

"...to be my lawfully wedded husband."

"...to be my lawfully wedded husband."

"To have and to hold..."

"To have and to hold..."

"...for better, for worse..."

"...for better, for worse..."

"...for richer, for poorer..."

"...for richer, for poorer..."

"...in sickness and in health..."

"...in sickness and in health..."

"...to love and to cherish..."

"...to love and to cherish..."

"...till death us do part..."

"...till death us do part..."

"...in accordance to God's holy law."

"...in accordance to God's holy law."

"In the presence of God I make this vow."

"In the presence of God I make this vow."

The priest nodded, looking over at William. "The ring, please."

John turned to face William, whereupon William handed over a simple silver band, which John took, and slipped it onto my finger. "Alexandra, I give you this ring as a symbol of my vow, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you."

The priest made the Sign of the Cross. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," he proclaimed. "I now proclaim this union blessed and lawful, with the sharing of the vows, and the giving of the ring. I now pronounce you man and wife. John, you may now kiss your bride."

John slowly stepped forward, pressing a solemn kiss to my lips, which I returned, although not nearly as heatedly as our kiss in the parlor three days previously.

Soon, we were surrounded by everyone, embraced and kissed, and it was a bit overwhelming. It was rather quickly thereafter that I found myself face to face with William, and, to my surprise, he kissed my hand. "William?" I asked tentatively, hoping that he wouldn't fault me for breaking etiquette by speaking first.

William, however, did not. "I know you care for him," he said. "Papa."

I nodded at him. "I do," I answered. "I care for you as well, William. I want us to be a proper family, I truly do."

William appeared stunned for a moment. "You... You do not despise me?"

"Despise you?" I cried out. "Why would I...?"

"I have hardly been fair to you since Papa announced your engagement," William admitted. "I should have given you a fair opportunity."

I gave him a small smile. "It wasn't as if we gave anyone a fair opportunity to react, given that we merely sprang it on everyone."

William laughed aloud at that. "I truly want the pair of you to be happy, Alexandra. May I call you Alexandra?" he asked.

I smirked. "Perhaps we will start with Lady John Grey and see where it goes," I joked.

William laughed again. "As long as you call me His Grace, the Earl of Ellesmere, Viscount Ashness, Master of Helwater, Baron Derwent," he responded, apparently gleeful that I was joking with him. "I know that, perhaps, it is too soon for love for the pair of you, but I can only hope that, one day soon, it will grow."

I turned to look at John, who was speaking with Claire, Jamie, and Jocasta. "Yes, William, I believe it will grow, one day soon."