Nourishing each other, the duo enjoyed a light meal before Christian scooped her up in his arms and carried her over the threshold of one of the bedrooms. With one foot, he pushed the door closed behind him and approached the side of the king size bed where he released her, bouncing her on the mattress.
When he made no further advances, she gracefully stood up beside the bed and slowly headed for the door. As she went to turn the door knob, he pried her fingers from it. Turning Lucy toward him, he tilted her chin upward, looked deeply into her eyes, into her soul, then simply and softly kissed her forehead. Glancing at the time, he opened the bedroom door, apologizing, "I will be back as soon as I can."
She admired his stride as he disappeared down the hallway. When she heard the front door close behind him, she investigated the large master bedroom in which she found herself alone. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she bounced again. Arising, she scrutinized her jostled reflection in the beveled edge mirror, smoothed her hair, and adjusted her shirt.
She would later write, "Am I falling in love with Christian? He awakens sensations in me that I didn't even know I possess. I wish these perfect moments with him would never end. Each new parting from him is 'such sweet sorrow.' Shakespeare? In my heart, I already know I'm putty in his hands. I nearly lose consciousness when he kisses me. It could be thirty seconds or thirty minutes, I have no idea. When I'm in his arms, I'm aware of his deep, gentle voice, but not of what he says. The magnetism, the electricity! And I already know him so well after all the years of writing to him."
Awaiting his return, she curled up in the warmth of the day bed and practiced her signature until she dozed off and the pen fell from her limp fingers. The bedside lamp shining on her open diary revealed for anyone to read, "Mrs. Christian Westbrook, Mrs. Lucy Westbrook, Mr. and Mrs. Christian Westbrook, Lucy and Christian Westbrook-"
In the days to come Lucy would not be able to recall her ride from the country manor to the London proper estate of Christian's parents, Lady and Lord Westbrook, the daughter and son-in-law of close friends of Lucy's demised grandfather. Lucy was otherwise engaged. The car halted and Yvonne Westbrook approached, getting the couple up to speed with, "There is food in the refrigerator if you need a snack. Here is a telegram that came for you, Lucy, from my parents. It is late so we will talk tomorrow, dear." Lucy bid her goodnight and Mum disappeared. Lucy tore it open.
"Look, Christian! Marie and Franc say they can call in a few favors and get me into Oxford! But they can't pinpoint when. You must have already told them! Thanks!"
"I'll start planning for us to be together in the dorms, if that is alright with you, Lucy."
"Yes! Great!" She gave him a big hug. "Would it be too much trouble if I ask for a cup of --"
"Let me guess, Luce. Hot chocolate before we go to bed? I remember you writing about your little cocoa custom." They headed for the kitchen where, with only one stool for the cook, he gently pulled her onto his lap. "Doesn't it seem like we've known each other forever? I mean in person, not as pen pals. Can you believe we've been corresponding since we learned to write?"
"Yes, it seems like always, Christian. And I love the way you call me Luce in your letters!"
Time slipped away. They could have talked and laughed till dawn. And they nearly did, until they eventually checked the time and obligingly headed for Lucy's room. Side by side, arms around each other's waist, they mounted the stairs, stepping in unison as one.