A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger (literally…har har), but I was feeling lazy last chapter and hopefully made up for it with this one…keyword being hopefully. ;0P

CH 3: The Vanquished

"Tisha, NO!!!"

Racing forward on rubbery legs, Clara felt as if her world were crashing down around her as she lunged forward and managed to catch Leticia by her coat, the performer screaming in outrage as she moved to jump and found herself being pulled back to safety.

"Let go, luv, let go!" she wailed. "Ya jus' don't understand – I must go ta 'im before 'e forgets me, Clara, I must!"

Wresting Leticia protectively into her embrace, Clara sobbed, "No, Leticia, Desmond ain't waitin' for ya at all – 'e wants ya ta live your life an' raise 'is son!"

Trembling, Leticia wailed, "I can't, luv, I jus' can't! I need Desmond 'ere with me, 'cause no son's worth livin' for if I ain't got 'im by my side!"

"'ow can ya be so selfish, Tisha? God blessed ya both with a wee bundle a' joy, yet mere moments ago ya were completely willin' ta terminate it!" Clara snapped, tears spilling past her lashes as she firmly held her hands against Leticia's cheeks. "Luv, don'tcha realize what you're doin'? Yes, Desmond was a glorious man, butcha need ta live for those who needja."

Placing her hand against Leticia's belly, Clara felt her heart break the moment her sister burst into tears and threw her arms about her neck.

"Oh, luv!" she moaned, "'ow could I 'ave been so blind? Desmond wouldn't've wanted me ta die at all, but ta live! Ta live an' raise our beautiful baby boy!"

Clara nodded past her tears. "Yes, luv, yes! Desmond loved ya with all 'is 'eart, an' I know the last thing 'e'd wantcha ta do is throw your life away for 'is sake!" Taking Leticia's hand in hers, Clara became concerned the moment she felt how unbearably cold it was. "Tisha, luv, you're shiverin'! We've got ta getcha warmed back up!"

"No, no, I'm fine, I…"

"Nonsense!" Clara firmly interrupted. "You jus' come with me down ta the Eagle an' we'll getcha a brandy – that should warm ya up and settle your nerves."

Nodding meekly, Leticia allowed her sister to take her by the arm and begin the monotonous journey back into town.

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"My, my, I never knew you were such a good marksman, Desmond!"

The aforementioned couldn't help but smirk. "I don't exactly consider being able to play darts a direct relation to marksmanship, but I suppose I won't reject the praise when it's so graciously provided."

"Still in need of a good pick-me-up then, I take it?"

Desmond nodded. "Yes, quite. In fact, what say you to my becoming acquainted with some new, charming young woman?"

"What on earth are you babbling about?" Quentin demanded. "If you're still stewing over the prospect of finding another woman, I demand that you stop at once!"

Desmond snorted. "And what if I am? A man can't wait forever, you know, so Mother is right for a change – I need to accept that Leticia's never coming back and find a new bride."

"You're mad!"

Smirking, Desmond returned, "Perhaps, but you'll think me far madder when I make my proposal: the next woman to walk through that door shall be the woman whom I court until marriage."

"You're right, I do think you far madder" Quentin agreed. "Would you just listen to yourself? I can't believe you've allowed Flora to get you so bent out of shape that you've become her personal lapdog. If you'd just stop and think, you'd realize that…that……Desmond?" Quentin waved his hand in front of his cousin's face. "Desmond, what's wrong? You look almost as if you've seen a ghost…"

His eyes widening in astonishment, Desmond continued to behold the two beautiful blondes in the entryway, his hand grasping at a table chair as he breathed, "It's Leticia…she has returned to me."

Simultaneously, his wife caught sight of her husband standing there before her, her hand seizing Clara by the wrist as she gasped, "Oh good Lord, luv, I think I'm seein' things now – I can't believe it, but I'm actually seein' my Desmond!"

Clara couldn't help but balk. "Luv, that…that is Desmond, 'cause I see 'im, too…"

"What?" Suddenly feeling quite ill, Leticia allowed the dark shadows to swirl in front of her eyes as she toppled listlessly into Clara's arms, the poor girl crying out as she tried her best to lay her sister on the floor as gently as possible.

"Leticia!" Hurriedly racing over to the two women, Desmond anxiously inquired, "Is she alright? Why has she fainted like that!?"

Clara, however, was far from listening, her eyes sliding in disbelief along his unmistakable features as she breathed, "Heaven help me, it really is you…"

"What on earth are you talking about? Of course it's me!"

"But you were in a carriage accident" Clara insisted. "Flora told us you'd died instantly, luv – that's why Tisha's in such a state."

"What?" Feeling his blood beginning to boil, Desmond hotly demanded, "What else has she told you? Was my alleged death why Leticia never wrote to me?"

Clara gave him a funny look. "Well what on earth do ya mean, luv? Tisha always sentcha one letter a week, if not more… I suppose the postal service 'as been mighty bad this year."

Seeing red, Desmond allowed the insurmountable ire that flowed through his veins to consume him entirely, his limbs shaking as he growled out, "Take Leticia to the inn and make sure she's properly cared for until my return – until then, I have some unfinished business to attend to."

Watching after his rapidly retreating form with wide eyes, Clara began to raise Leticia from off the floor (with Quentin's help) and lead her back outside to the carriage.

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Groaning, Leticia's lashes began to flutter as she felt a moist rag dampen her brow, her eyes finally opening in order to blearily rest upon Clara's concerned countenance. "Desmond" she breathed, "Where…where is 'e?"

"You stop your worryin', ya 'ear? 'e's up at Rose Cottage at the moment, so you jus' lie on back down" Clara urged sternly, her features only softening once she had her sister safely tucked back in. Brushing back a few loose strands of Leticia's hair, she added softly, "Desmond's alive an' well now, luv, so ya both can finally share in the blessin' of your lil' one."

Leticia smiled tearfully. "Yes…an' we can name 'im Barnabas after the kind cousin who assisted in savin' Desmond's life. It's the least we can do ta show our appreciation, don'tcha think?"

Nodding, Clara squeezed her sister's hand before urging, "You get some rest now, alright, luv? I need ta go fetch some produce for supper, so jus' try an' relax 'til my return."

"Alright."

As Clara left the room, Leticia couldn't help but smile, for her Desmond had finally been returned to her, and along with him her renewed love for life.

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"Mother!"

Stunned, Flora stopped writing her latest novel and looked up into the furious eyes of her son, her brows quirking as she entreated, "Why Desmond, whatever is the matter, dearest? You appear most perplexed…"

"Oh yes, that I am" Desmond agreed, his lips curling upward into the bitterest of smiles. "Tell me, Mother: how long have I been unfortunate enough to have perished in a tragic carriage accident? It seems to be quite the talk of the town."

Flora paled. "W-what? How utterly ridiculous!"

"Isn't it?" Desmond agreed. Feigning the process of remembrance, he added, "Oh, and that reminds me…did you know that we should've received not one letter, but several from the Faye's over the course of these past few months? It seems that Leticia was gracious enough to write me at least once a week, yet somehow all of her notes mysteriously disappeared. Isn't that a most curious development?"

Flora laughed uneasily. "Why yes, yes, indeed… I always knew that the postal service was a frivolous company – not to be trusted at all!"

"I couldn't agree more" Desmond acknowledged, "which is exactly why I've come up with an ultimatum for you."

"An ultimatum? For me?"

"Why yes" Desmond returned. "You see, dear Mother, you are precisely like this so-called "frivolous company" and cannot be trusted. Either you accept Leticia as my wife and gain a daughter-in-law, or you completely alienate me and lose a son. Think it over, won't you?"

Flora gasped as if she'd been accosted. "Desmond Gabriel Collins! What sort of debauchery is this!?"

"Goodnight, Mother" he insolently acknowledged. "I may return for the night, I may not – if you somehow find yourself in need of me, I shall be at the inn…with my wife."

With a gasp, Flora rushed forward in order to intercept her son, but to no avail, tears of frustration stinging along her lashes once she realized that Leticia would be far harder to sever from her family than she originally anticipated.

A/N: Busteeeed. :-P I've been re-watching 1840 for the past week now, so I'm trying to get Flora a little more true to her character, so hopefully I've been able to do so. :-S Hope that chapter made up for the crappy update last time – I'll try to update again soon, but there are no promises, eheh. --' I'm still in the process of writing the latest chapter for "Blood and Jasmines", but daggone it, the words just aren't flowing, so it may take even longer for that one…oy ve. :(