Epilogue—14 years later, very early in the morning.

She awoke to not so gentle snores from behind her. Turning over, she saw that the source of those snores had rolled from his position curled around her to his back. She took a moment to study his features which were so very different when he was relaxed. The deep furrow that was often on his brow was gone. Good. It had been her duty and privilege to keep that line erased for the past fourteen years. She liked the lines around his mouth and eyes, though. She had seen them deepen last night as they laughed while they struggled to remove their remaining clothes including the trousers that had become hopelessly tangled around his legs. A smile lit her own face when she remembered that he hadn't even been able to wait to remove his boots before he loved her. It did something for a woman's pride to know that she was desired that urgently, even after such a time.

Her eyes traveled down to his broad shoulders and to the hand that was resting on top of the blanket; the same hand that had snapped her suspenders loose and rolled her stockings down her legs. He had quickly become an expert in removing her clothing. She thought of the way he had kissed down her leg as he removed her stockings and how his lips had also found their way to the juncture of her thighs. The thought of his warm breath on her center caused her breath to quicken, and she glanced quickly back at his face to see if he had wakened. His eyes were still closed, and his breathing was steady. She worried her bottom lip, wondering if she dared to wake him. Surely he was still exhausted from the travel. Then she remembered the time and care he had taken in exploring her body, tasting and touching her almost reverently until she was weak from the pleasure he gave her.

It took only the lightest pressure of her lips on his to cause him to wake. His eyes fluttered open and a slow smile spread across his features. A hand came up to stroke her cheek. His eyes glanced toward the still dark window and then back to her in confusion. "It's not morning yet?"

"No, I couldn't sleep," she said, leaning forward to brush kisses over his chest. He hummed in pleasure which she could feel vibrating through his chest.

"Worried?" he asked.

She stretched one leg over his and brushed her thigh across his growing hardness. "No, I've just missed my husband these past weeks, and I had grown accustomed to quiet nights."

He rolled to face her and pulled her thigh up over his hip. "For the thousandth time wife, I do not snore." He punctuated his words with kisses trailing from her shoulder down to her breast.

"No, of course not, you just breathe very loudly in your sleep." Her words would have sounded much harsher if her voice had not faded to a pleased sigh when his thumb grazed her center.

He raised his head from her breast to press an insistent kiss to her mouth, "Two weeks is too long. Next time you will come with me."

She responded by returning his kiss with fervor.

He lifted her knee over his hip, pressing closer until they were joined again. They made love with slow, lazy movements, kissing, caressing, and touching each other in all the secret places that had become familiar over time. As their love built gradually to its peak, they whispered words of devotion before collapsing against each other and falling back to sleep in exhaustion.

Later that night

He glanced first to his wife and then to his daughter. They were sitting together on the dark green, formerly baby blue, sofa. At times it was hard to believe that his daughter was old enough to be married in just a few short weeks. When he turned his attention back to the young man he was speaking with, he saw that his companion's attention was fixed on the sofa as well. He hid a smile behind the rim of his wineglass and wondered whether he'd been this distracted before wedding Elsie. Remembering the night before, he thought he often still was.

"Perhaps we should join them," he said, trying to keep the amusement from his voice.

Young Caleb Jacobson's head turned sharply, "Sir? I, um, you mean join the women?"

Charles forced himself not to roll his eyes. There was no one else to join in the room. His son, however, was not quite as discreet.

"You've been watching Elizabeth all night. Surely you would like to at least speak to her."

"David," Charles chastised his son gently, "You are not yet bar mitzvah. You have much to learn in the next few weeks."

Elsie looked up at her husband and smiled. She had wondered when he would have pity on Elizabeth's young man. Young Mr. Jacobson had been unable to keep his eyes off her the entire night, and more than once she had caught Elizabeth's attention drifting as well. She had thought Charles would be more understanding, especially after his own urgent distraction last night.

"Elizabeth was just telling me that you were planning to go to Paris for your wedding trip, Mr. Jacobson," she said. "That sounds delightful."

The young man's eyes dropped, and his cheeks tinted pink. "Yes," he said, "I have never been but I have heard it is beautiful. I thought we could discover it together."

"I am sure it will be beautiful," Elsie said, smiling.

Elizabeth spoke then, "What were your favorite places Mama? From when you and Papa went."

Elsie's face heated instantly, "I'm sure it's changed much since we were wed."

"Not so much, surely," David, who took too much after his forthright father, protested, "I'm positive that it would be much the same."

"Yes, Mrs. Breghert," Mr. Jacobson joined in the unintentional but still mortifying torture, "It would be wonderful to say that we saw some of the same places."

Charles cleared his throat. He rolled his shoulders. Oh no. He would only make it worse. "What your mother means to say is that we, um, actually weren't in Paris per se."

"Were you in another village or town nearby? That might be just as lovely," Elizabeth asked.

"Well, it was…," Charles fumbled for words, hopeless liar that he was.

Elsie squeezed her eyes shut for only a moment before deciding to rescue him, "We missed our ship in Dover. We spent our wedding trip there. It's a lovely city."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, and she looked ready to speak. Elsie looked at her sharply. She let the matter drop.

Finally, Mr. Jacobson took his leave. Charles let Elizabeth walk with him to the door but no further. There were limits to his indulgence. David was sent to bed.

Charles smiled at Elsie, "We missed our ship? At least you didn't tell them what caused the delay."

She rolled her eyes, "You were making it sound far too intriguing." She couldn't resist a bit of teasing. "Do I need to remind you that our trunks at least went to Paris?"

He settled down onto the sofa beside her. "Leaving us with only one set of clothes," he nodded. "Which is why you have no idea whether Dover is a lovely city or not. I doubt we spent more than three hours out of our room during the entire week."

Any reply which she would have given was cut off by Elizabeth returning to the room, blushing prettily. Elsie sighed. At least the wedding was only three more weeks away. Those two were completely besotted with each other.

The love bird nearly floated across the room to bid them goodnight. After kissing Elsie on the cheek, she turned to her father but glanced back at Elsie with a half-smile that was dangerously reminiscent of Charles when he was in a mischievous mood.

"Papa," she began and Elsie could tell from Charles's warm smile that he had no idea what was coming, "All those years ago when you explained to me that we were going to have a baby joining the family, do you remember what you told me?"

Charles's ears turned bright pink. Now Elsie was intrigued. "What did he tell you?"

Elizabeth could barely contain her laughter, "He told me you ordered a baby when you were in Paris."

Elsie stifled her own laughter and glanced at Charles whose face was now flaming.

"And now I find you never even went to Paris," Elizabeth said, eyes shining with amusement.

Charles coughed, shifted his shoulders, and rubbed the top of his ear. "Well, perhaps children may be ordered just as well from Dover."

And that, my friends, is THE END. Thank you for bearing with me on this journey to make Mr. Breghert happy.

Extended Author's note and corrections: Firstly, I have only watched the mini-series of 'The Way We Live Now'. In it Mr. Breghert's first name is never given, I have chosen Charles for obvious reasons and a bit of research did show that many 19th century British Jewish men had what I would consider more 'English' names. In Anthony Trollope's book, however, I believe his name is Ezekiel. I found this out after writing the first three chapters. Too late to change. Sorry. Secondly, I realize that probably no rabbi in the 19th century would be happy about a Jewish man marrying a gentile woman, but this fic would have been a hundred chapters long if I had made them wait for Elsie to complete the process of joining the Jewish faith and people. I believe the reason that Charles gave for not wishing any delay was plausible, and I'm banking on Joseph being merciful to his old friend. This fic has been on my mind since watching Jim Carter's excellent portrayal of Mr. Breghert over a year ago, and I'm glad to finally have it out of my head and onto paper/computer. I hope that I have not offended anyone and that I have entertained at least a little.