Untold Love Stories

by MissTT aka FantasyOfMine

Ichabod and Abbie have an undeniable bond. But as they grow closer what will it mean for their relationship as Witnesses, as friends, as something more? What S3 and Beyond should have been Alternate TL of the Witnesses Journey. They gain Abilities. Added S2 scenes total AU S3. Chapters are Long & read like individual short stories or Episodes. Ichabbie: New CH 38

11. A Time Long Past (Part 2)

Ch 11 A Time Long Past 2 (clean)

~Intro~

Ichabod took Abbie's hand in his and began towards the bright light of the portal. Abbie didn't budge. He could feel a slight tremble in her hand. He looked at her and saw worry hiding behind her deep brown eyes.

"Abbie, everything will be alright. On my life, I promise." His voice was so sincere; Abbie knew he would never let anything happen to her.

She took a deep breath and together they walked through.

It was truly strange to walk through the portal and be greater by none other than Theodore and Bishop Donovan. Of course their hair and attire were different.

"Ichabod and Grace, welcome. I'm sure you know I am Bishop Donovan."

They both nodded. This was very strange indeed.

~1) Coming Home ~

They changed bags from their modern day ones to more appropriate ones and boarded the carriage.

Abbie had almost forgotten how uncomfortable the carriage ride was. She could feel every bump in the road. Ichabod sat across from her. It was dark but she could see his eyes were closed and a peaceful smile on his face. Her eyes were heavy but between her nerves and the rough ride, there was no way she could sleep. She was glad that at least he could get some rest.

She pulled out the satchel and tried to count the coins to pass the time. She had 8 sovereign which were a pound each. Next she tried to decipher between the pence the half pence and the shillings. Then she heard Ichabod calmly explain she had twenty shillings which equaled a pound, twelve pennies which equals a shilling and eight farthings which equaled two pennies.

"Thanks," she smiled, as she returned the coins to the satchel.

"Hmm..." Ichabod said groggily, rubbing his eyes. "Is everything quite all right?"

Abbie looked up and realized he had been sleeping. The voice she heard was his, in her mind helping her, as it happened months ago in Morocco. "I thought you were speaking to me. I didn't mean to wake you," she yawned. Her eyes were so heavy, she could barely keep them open.

"Abbie, you need to sleep. We will be in London soon and it will be morning. We have much to do."

"I've tried. I guess I'm a little anxious."

"Try not to be. I think you will find you fare far better in England than in Colonial America."

"I hope you're right," she stretched. "You seem so calm about all this."

"I dare say this mission has far different implications for you and I. Though I can understand your apprehension, I have high hopes for this brief venture."

It suddenly dawned on Abbie that Ichabod was going to see his parents again. "Oh, I am so sorry. You are going to see your mom and dad. That's a big deal."

"Yes... my father and my precious mother... to see her face, and hear her voice again... I had not dreamed it would ever be possible."

"I know," she smiled remember her own mother, and the sense of peace it had given her to be able to say goodbye.

Ichabod reached for her and gently pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her tender lips and she melted into his arms. He certainly knew exactly what she needed.

"Now to elicit you into a more restful state, I shall explain the lineage and titles of my family tree. My mother's family is part of the peerage. As you know Jackson Darby is my mother's cousin. The Gentleman we are going to meet is their uncle, my great uncle, Lord George Collins. George has two siblings, my grandfather on my mothers side, Lord Robert Collins and Jackson's mother, Lady Miranda Collins now Lady Richard Darby. She married quite well to a Duke, Lord Richard Darby."

Abbie's eye were closed now as she snuggled against his chest. "The peerage that's like the Dukes and Earls and stuff like that," she said with a deep yawn.

"Yes," Ichabod stroked her shoulder coaxing her to sleep. "Now my father is part of the gentry. Some in his family hold titles dating back centuries ago from Scotland. He had to amass quite a bit of wealth in order to marry my mother. He is an extraordinarily wise business man and land lord. Of course education is his passion..."

He felt Abbie's body grow heavy against his and her breaths became soft and steady. He was glad she was finally asleep because they'd be in London in just over an hour. He held her tight and closed his eyes to enjoy the last bits of rest before the busy day ahead.

2) Guess Who's Coming

The sun was just coming up as they entered into London. The increasing noise from the bustle of the city woke Ichabod and Abbie from their slumber. They began to straighten themselves up to appear somewhat presentable after the long trip. Abbie saw swarms of people who looked absolutely impoverished; children running amuck and begging, panhandlers, street musicians, day workers and servants, all adding to the commotion of the City. Every now and then Abbie would notice a black face in the crowd. A rush of nerves flushed over her, but she steeled herself to keep it from showing.

"Try to relax Abbie... I do mean Grace." Ichabod corrected himself. "I suppose we need to remember that we are assuming the identities of our relatives."

"Okay, Jackson," Abbie took a deep breath, to help relax but then turned up her nose at the stench. The air was going to take some getting used to. "Do I call you Jackson or something else?"

"Likely I will be referred to as Jackson or Darbey by my familial relations. Others will refer to me as Lord Darby. You should chose to call me which ever you are most comfortable with."

Ichabod knew that was not correct, but he did not want to think of Abbie being forced to refer to him as Lord. The better question was how would he introduce her.

Ichabod looked outside the window as they headed for the upperclass West End. Abbie took note of the narrow dirty side roads gradually widening as lovely Georgian Buildings lined the streets. The shops here were nicer, and the gentlemen were better dressed.

The carriage took a turn and Ichabod realized they were not going to the Crane family's town house. He tapped the outer side of the carriage to get Theodore's attention. "What house are we heading to my goodman?"

"Lotliegh House, Lord Jackson. The Lady Richard Darbey has left it opened for your arrival." Theodore yelled down to him.

"Of course, thank you." Ichabod looked at Abbie, "I should prepare you. The house is extremely lavish. You may find it a bit gaudy."

"Are there bathrooms inside," she asked.

"Yes, the bed chambers have water closets," he nodded.

"Then I'm fine," she smiled as she thought about the sight of people throwing waste out of their windows on the other side of town.

The carriage drove through the gates of Lotliegh into the small courtyard of the stately home. It was no where near the size of Netherbourne which was a country estate. But it was much larger than the stately town homes, and stood separated from its neighbors.

Waiting on the entrance steps was a very well dressed man in his forties and a line of servants. Ichabod's face lit up. "That is my uncle George."

A footman stepped up and opened the carriage door for Ichabod. He was barely out when he was greater warmly by his uncle, "My goodness Young Darbey! You have grown into a fine looking young man!"

"I get my good looks from the Collins's blood that runs through my veins," Ichabod smiled as he hugged the gentleman. "It is good to see you again Uncle."

"Indeed, indeed," he patted Ichabod on the shoulders. "We had thought you would truly never return. We were all over joyed when your cousin Annette told us of your upcoming visit. Your mother wanted to be here but she and your father are away tending to urgent political affairs for the King."

"Of course," Ichabod smiled.

"Oh..." George looked a bit surprised. "Your letter specified that you'd be traveling with a companion, not a servant. I will have Bonnie prepare a bed in the servant's quarters."

Ichabod was momentarily confused until he turned and saw the footman helping Abbie out of the carriage. Ichabod immediately went to assist Abbie down. "No Uncle, she is not a servant. She is my traveling companion. Lord George Collins, I present to you Miss Grace."

George was a bit flustered, but recovered quickly. "Miss Grace, how do you do?"

Abbie tipped her head and smiled nervously, uncertain how she was being received. George resembled Ichabod a great deal. He was a tall man in his fifties, with dark hair, blue eyes and a pleasant face.

"Come let's get you two settled in. Jackson. We have a great deal to talk about."

"My Lords," the housekeeper spoke up.

"Yes, Mrs. Jenkins?" George paused.

"Where should we put Miss Grace? The room we have prepared is one of the family rooms next to his Lordship."

"That will do very well indeed, Mrs. Jenkins." Ichabod said sternly, brushing past her. "Have a warm bath drawn for myself and Miss Grace."

They went up the stairs to their rooms, while George waited in the drawing room. Ichabod managed to find a nicer dress for Abbie to wear but it was ill fitting on her petite frame. They would have to find a seamstress and have a couple of dresses made for her.

After he washed Ichabod joined his Uncle and found the family had another agenda. It was Jackson's mothers wish to have her son restored to high society and continue on as the heir apparent to his father's estate and title. George was meant to influence the young man to return, and a party was being held in his honor.

Ichabod found all of this trivial, as he and Abbie were on a very important mission. But he was after all, acting as his cousin and had to play the part.

"Uncle, you really should not have gone through the trouble," Ichabod hoped to find a way to cancel the party. "I left society for a reason"

"It is already settled, and everyone has already been invited." George would not back down.

"Miss Grace and I have a lot to do before we head to Netherbourne."

"It is done. Your mother would be ridiculed if you refuse."

"Very well Uncle. But I must find a seamstress immediately. Miss Grace has nothing to wear."

"Jackson, you can't mean to bring your... mistress. She is not even a courtesan. And she is black. What would people say?" George was quite serious.

"I will not go without her," Ichabod said stubbornly.

"Uh... very well... We shall manage it. The party is being held at the Renaldo Pavilion. The middle class and lower Gentry will be enjoying the public ball. Your guest and high society will be upstairs attending the private party." George was now thinking of a way to persuade his nephew to reconsider his place in society. "You can still find a wife among the eligible young ladies, and keep Miss Grace."

"Uncle..."

There was a knock on the door and a servant escorted Abbie in. The dress was certainly too long and not fitted.

"Ab... Miss Grace. You look lovely," Ichabod smiled. "However I believe we should head out immediately and find seamstress or a tailor."

George observed how his nephews mood lightened the moment she walked in. He looked at the petite young woman and certainly saw the appeal. He had a plan and he hoped his nephew would be accepting of the arrangements for the night.

George sent the pair to Madame Fiona's Milliner & Tailor shop to acquire proper clothing for their stay. A couple of hours later, Ichabod and Abbie returned from the Tailor's shop, having great success at attaining 4 dresses for her. Of course it was due to the misfortune of a young lady whose family recently fell into ruin, and could no longer afford the dresses that were commissioned. Afterwards they went to a bakery and dined on some sweet pastries. It was a pleasant morning. The few intrigued stares at the returned son of the Duke and his foreign female companion, was far better than her reception into Colonial New York.

Now Ichabod was in his room freshening up when his Uncle knocked. "Jackson, you must accompany me to the local coffeehouse."

Of course the clubs were for gentlemen only and Ichabod didn't want to leave Abbie. She was tired, having hardly an hour of sleep in the past two days, and he wanted to keep her company. "Thank you for the gracious invitation, but I should remain here for the sake of Miss Grace."

"Let Miss Grace have her rest my dear boy! Come now. Do you not miss anything of your past life?" George questioned earnestly.

"I do think on it from time to time," Ichabod sighed. "Let me see that Miss Grace is settled and I shall accompany you. But only for a short while."

"This precious time to reacquaint myself with my only nephew, will be joyfully appreciated." His uncle patted him on the back. "We shall have a jolly time over the next three days before you are off to visit Dearest Annette."

"Excuse me, Uncle... But we should head to Netherbourne in the morrow."

"That is not what your correspondence said. You're cousins are not expecting you for another three days." George said matter of factly.

"Is there any way they could receive us early?"

"Oh, I doubt that," George shook his head. "I happen to know William Crane is currently entertaining a business partner. And Annette is in no state to have the added stress."

"Of course," Ichabod understood.

"I know you are most anxious to visit your dearest cousin. But it is April! We are in the season. There is a great deal of fun to be had, my boy."

Abbie was trying on one of the dresses, when she heard the knock on her door. "Who is it?" Abbie called out thinking it was one of the servants.

"It's me. May I come in?" Ichabod answered.

Abbie opened the door, holding her dress against her body. Ichabod slipped in, closing the door behind him. He smiled slyly at Abbie as he watched her lay the dress on the bed. She still wore her modern undergarments, which Ichabod found extremely sexy. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck.

"I thought you were the servant," she smiled, enjoying his touch.

"Ah, I was hoping we could have a moment before you take your nap," he sighed, letting her lose.

"I think we can have a moment if you like," she turned and gave him a playful kiss. "I don't think anyone's coming,"

"Well if you rang the bell for the maid, someone should be here most directly."

"Well I called before we left and three times since we've been back. I'm sure they're busy. I just want some clean water to wash up with."

Ichabod reached for the bell and pulled the string while Abbie quickly threw on the simplest of the dresses. After a couple of minutes no one came.

"One moment," Ichabod went to his room and rang the bell. A minute later the servant came up. Ichabod met her in the hall way.

"Can I help you my Lord," said Millie, the maid tending to the bedrooms.

"Why have you not tended to Miss Grace?" Ichabod asked with a stern raised voice.

"My apologies. We are short staffed..." Millie tried.

Abbie stepped to the door to see what was going on.

Ichabod was in no mood for excuses, "Miss Grace rang for you four..."

"Five," Abbie chimed in.

"Five times, and yet you did not come all day. Tend to her water closet immediately."

"Yes Sir." She hurried into the room past Abbie.

The woman was more than a little upset that Abbie had gotten her in trouble. On her way through the room she not so accidentally sloshed a bit of the waste bucked almost getting Abbie's feet. Abbie was pissed and it was all she could do not to smack the woman.

"Sorry... Miss. Hope I didn't get ya," Millie said with a snark.

Unfortunately for Millie, Ichabod was standing in the doorway and saw the whole thing.

"Millie!" His voice was harsh, but he refrained from yelling. "Put the bucket down and leave!"

"Yes, sir," Millie was a bit unnerved, "um... should I come back for it later?"

"No, you miss understand. You are dismissed. Your wages will be paid up to today, but you are to leave this house and not return. Do not ask for a reference." Ichabod stepped to the side to let her out of the room.

"My Lord, please. I made a foolish mistake..." She pleaded.

"Indeed you did. Have O'Riley settle your wages, gather your things and go." The woman left in tears and Ichabod turned to Abbie. "I'm so sorry Treasure. I suppose English attitudes are not as progressive as I remembered."

"Trust me, this is easy compared to Colonial America." She tried to laugh. "You don't think that was a bit harsh?"

"Not at all. It was most necessary under the circumstances.

A couple of minutes later Mrs. Jenkins and another servant girl arrived, knocking on Abbie's door.

"I beg your pardon my Lord, Miss Grace," Mrs. Jenkins spoke up right away. "I just heard what has happened. Millie will be out of the house within the hour. This is Sally. I've taken her off laundry duty, and she will personally tend to all of Miss Grace's needs. My Lord, Billie is second footman but he will be your valet and at your service from now on."

"Thank you Mrs. Jenkins, that will do quite well." Ichabod assured her.

"Sally..." Mrs. Jenkins directed the girl to the bucket, and she immediately began her duties.

"If you need anything, or have any trouble at all, please hesitate not to inform me." Mrs. Jenkins humbly lowered her head.

"That will be all, Mrs Jenkins." Ichabod dismissed her.

Ichabod stood proper as Sally tended to Abbie's room. "Now you have your very own Lady's maid," he smiled.

Abbie playfully nodded her head as she watched Sally, "so this is how the other half lives? Not too shabby."

Once Sally was done Ichabod closed and locked the door. He could not wait to get his hands on Abbie. "Now let's get you out of this dress, " he smiled devilishly as he kissed her. Then he remembered his uncle was waiting for him.

"Damn, I must go. I am accompanying my Uncle to a coffee house."

"Let me guess, no girls allowed." Abbie folded her arm.

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, no problem. We can pick this up tonight." She said giving him a seductive kiss.

Ichabod' hands twitched nervously, "actually tonight we are attending a public ball and a private party... In honor of my... or rather for Lord Jackson Darby's return."

"You're kidding me, right," Abbie was not amused. "A party with a bunch of rich white people in the 18th century... And me. I don't think so."

"My uncle has assured me it will be fine. It's just one of the things we'll have to deal with over the next three days." Ichabod winced, waiting for her reaction.

"Excuse me? Three days!" Abbie scoffed.

"Yes. As of now Annette is in no danger. She is safe as long as my father remains at the home with her. And we cannot create the Basilica for another 13 days."

Abbie let out a deep sigh. "I just want to get somewhere that feels at least a little bit familiar. It's so uncomfortable here."

Ichabod gave her a reassuring hug and kissed her forehead. He understood the feeling all too well.

~3) A Ball ~

Abbie slept surprisingly well in the plush bed. She had expected it to be very uncomfortable, but it was quite the opposite. She awoke to a knock on the door, and Sally popping in with a tray of tea and bread.

"Pardon me, Miss." The young woman said politely. "I brought you a spot of tea. I need to start making preparations for you. It's me first time as a lady's maid."

"It's my first time having a lady's maid," Abbie smiled.

Abbie and Sally got along quite well. At first Sally's thick high pitched accent was a bit hard on Abbie's ears, but she soon got used to it. They talked as the pale brunette laid out the dress, petticoat and undergarments for Abbie.

"I was thinkin', Miss," Sally chimed in after thinking about the matter for some time. "There be another party tonight just a couple blocks east of Cheapside at Finigan's Pub. No where's near Giles mind you. But there be merchants and sailors from all parts and all kinds there."

Abbie wasn't sure if she should be offended. Was she trying to imply that there would be black people there? "What do you mean?"

"I mean no offense Miss. It's just that High Society tend be a certain way. But there be places where more welcoming company can be found if you're ever so inclined, that's all. You seem real nice, Miss. And I hate to think of folks makin ya feel... I don't know. I'm probably being silly."

"No. It was very thoughtful of you," Abbie said realizing that she meant well. "But I think I'll be fine with Lord Darby."

"Yes, Miss. It's just that..." Sally started, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," Abbie turned and smiled when she saw Ichabod.

"I'll be back shortly to help you dress, Miss." Sally quickly scurried out of the room.

Ichabod quickly locked the door behind her and went straight to Abbie. She was so adorable in her knee length night gown. He put his arms tight around her, lifting her feet off the ground and kissing her. His mood was very light, and he was smiling ear to ear.

"I take it you had a good time?" Abbie smiled back between kisses.

"Indeed. I have forgotten how pleasant it was to keep company with my uncle. And the lively discussions and civil discourse of the coffee house, has been quite an experience."

"And the party tonight? Are you looking forward to that too?" Abbie was curious.

"Not as much. These high society parties can be quite stodgy and dull. Now if it ends with lively music and drink, then there will be a good time to be had. Speaking of good times to be had," he grinned slyly as he laid her on the bed for a blissfull romp.

His lips were still upon her when there was a knock at the door. "Miss, it be nearin' time for super," Sally called from the other side. "Should I help you dress?"

"No," Abbie called back trying to catch her breath as Ichabod released her. "I'll get myself ready."

As Sally did a quick explanation of which dress was for the party and which one was for the dinner, Abbie noticed Ichabod was still quite in the mood.

"... And Lord Collin's is receiving a guest for dinner." Sally concluded from the hallway. "He has ordered quite a feast and hopes you are hungry, Miss."

"Oh I am so hungry," Abbie growled as she pulled Ichabod close. He bit down hard on his lip to keep any sound from escaping him. "Thank you Sally."

Abbie stood up and directed Ichabod to take a seat on the bed. She sat on his lap and kissed his neck and chin.. "You are a full-spread, fairest vine. And can with tendrils love entwine."

"Oh, poetry," Abbie purred. "I like it." She playfully kissed and teased him

"Have mercy!" he cried out louder than he expected, as they had another rousing good time.

He pulled her up on the bed and into his arms to spoon her. As much as he loved their intimate time and all the fun they had, he most loved holding her in his arms. "Let us stay here. Perhaps my Uncle will not notice our absence."

"I would love nothing more than to stay here with you... But I am really hungry now," Abbie laughed.

Abbie and Ichabod, as Jackson and Grace of course, joined is Uncle Lord Collins in the dining room. They were rather surprised that the dinner guest was the owner of the dress shop.

"I believe you have already been introduced to the Widow Madame Fiona Duboise," George introduced her. She was a lovely slim figured woman of thirty-five with fare skin and light brown hair.

They had a delightful dinner. She was very curious about Grace and where she was from, but Abbie was masterful at deflecting and always managed to turn the subject back to her or to Lord Collins.

Abbie got a certain feeling about Fiona that she couldn't quite explain. She got the same feeling when they met earlier. But now it was stronger. It wasn't bad at all. Just a strong sense of trust. Which made little sense to Abbie, but it was nice to make a friend in high society.

After dinner, Fiona and her maid joined Abbie in her room to prepare for the ball. Being a fashionable lady, she was able to help Sally get Abbie to look her absolute best. And she did. She was stunning.

"Well, I dare say you and I will make quite the statement walking into the ball tonight," Fiona giggled playfully.

Abbie smiled nervously. She wasn't sure if she wanted to draw any more attention to herself.

Ichabod and his uncle dressed in their finest and waited patiently at the bottom of the grand stair case for their dates. When Ichabod saw Abbie appear at the top of the stairs, she literally took his breath away. They ladies made their way downstairs and Ichabod took Abbie's arm in his arm.

"You are a vision of true beauty," he complimented, avoiding the strong temptation to kiss her. "Shall we," he smiled, and they were on their way.

The wide street outside the Renaldo Pavilion was filled with carriages and a multitude of people dressed in their finest. Their carriage pulled up to the main entrance and they got out, making their way up the massive stone steps.

It was remarkable how people stepped to the side with bows and curtsies as the recognized George and his presumed nephew Jackson. Of course tongues were wagging at the return of the Young Lord, and who could the foreign woman be? Abbie noticed that every once in a while a person or couple was announced as Lord or Lady such and such.

Finally they were ready to enter the ballroom. The Herald motioned for 'Jackson' and George to step forward ahead of 'Grace' and Fiona. Abbie wasn't sure what this was about but everyone else seemed to think this was absolutely normal.

A hush fell over the crowd as the Herald announce, "Lord George Collins Erle of Leaponshire and Lord Jackson Darby Son of Lord Richard Darby of 1st Duke of Cantonport.

It was the first time Abbie had heard their full titles, and they did sound pretty impressive. She and Fiona followed the men down the spiral stairs and into the crowd.

Ichabod introduced Abbie as his friend and confidant. Referring to her as his companion amongst certain members of society would imply she was his mistress or concubines. And he certainly didn't want anyone to mistake her for a servant or a slave.

It was quite interesting if not annoying as the group after group made their way to great Jackson, to hear several of them speak about their African or Indian servant, housekeeper, maid and so on. One woman went on and on about the little boy they kept dressed in fine clothes like a doll. Abbie fought back the urge to roll her eyes. She supposed that in their day, these people thought themselves quite progressive.

There were two well dressed black gentlemen at the far end of the room. Abbie could tell they weren't servants, however, they did not join in the dancing. She figured they were likely well to do merchants of some type, trying to fit in but not quite feeling accepted. Every now and then someone would approach them and make polite conversation, before leaving the men. They also noticed Abbie. How could they not. She was one of only two black females, the other being a servant who was scarcely seen. And of course Abbie was done up like a fine Lady.

Abbie couldn't help but notice all the thirsty looks from clearly desperate young women, hoping to entice Jackson with their powdered white boobs popping out of their corsets and big overdone hair. Many came up to them to be introduced, hoping that they would receive a dance request. Ichabod knew that as Jackson, it was expected that he dance with them. But he also planned on getting very lucky tonight with Abbie, and wouldn't risk spoiling it.

When it was time for the Allemande, Ichabod took Abbie to the floor. They had done this before and easily compensated for the height difference. It was magical. For Abbie, she felt as if she were in a fairy tail. Sure she got many not so pleasant looks, mostly from butt hurt girls who couldn't get Jackson's attention. He treated her like a princess.

In fact the first half of the night went splendidly. That is until 'Jackson' got called into a private party, nobility only. "I shall return straight away," Ichabod assured Abbie.

She was left in good company with Fiona. The woman taught Abbie a couple of well know country dances. It wasn't long before Fiona had a full dance card and was whisked onto the dance floor.

Now Abbie was alone and desperate for Ichabod to come back. After a while one of the black gentlemen caught her eye. He gave her a smile and a head nod. Abbie looked away trying to pay him no mind but a few minutes later he was by her side introducing himself.

"How do you do Miss? The name is John Gibson," he smiled and tipped his head.

"I'm Grace," Abbie gave a stiff smile. He made small talk for a few minutes, which Abbie thought was nice. At least she wasn't standing by herself. That is until some very rude man made a derogatory comment.

"Do all the true young ladies a favor and get the Dukes whore out of here," one drunk man said with an air of superiority.

"I beg your pardon!" John snapped, getting the attention of everyone in earshot.

The older man looked incredulously at John, and Abbie knew this was not going to be good for John. "John, come on. Pay him no mind." She pulled him away.

"You are here with Lord Darby?" John asked her.

"Yes," Abbie smiled wondering where he was at.

"Well, you have a pleasant evening. I did not mean to overstep." He tipped his head and went back to his friend.

Abbie decided to go find the private room where Ichabod was being detained. And imagine her surprise when she founded him with not one but two gaudily dressed young women practically draped on him. Okay, so a slight exaggeration, but that's what it seemed like to Abbie.

She went outside for some air, instead of confronting 'Jackson' and making a scene. On her way she heard another man joking with his friend, "Someone should tell young Darby before he ruins it for us all. If we start bringing our concubines home, our wives will skin us alive." The men roared with laughter.

She was happy to be outside and away from that crowd. That's when she saw the two black gentlemen getting into a carriage with Sally and another man. Curiosity got the best of her and she called for their carriage to take her to Finigan's Pub.

She arrived just as Sally and her friends were going inside. "Sally," she called out and the young lady turned and waved to her.

"Miss Grace!" Sally ran to the carriage. "I wasn't expecting you to come."

"I decided a change of society might be nice." She smiled, and Sally giggled wildly.

The two young ladies joined the men and went into the pub. The pub was adjoining to what Abbie assumed was some sort of hotel or boarding house. The people were not nearly a swell dressed as the uppity gentry and noblemen at the ball, but far better off than the poppers she saw in the streets on the east side. They were merchants, sailors, traders along with women too king to make a good match with a man who is on his way up in society. There were also a few less desirable types in the crowd. Pick-pockets, thieves and prostitutes all gathered into the crowed hoping to seek their fortunes as well.

It was a lively crowd. Drinks flowed and there was plenty of dancing. Best of all there were a few other people of color amongst the dozens who filled the pub, and all were dancing. Johny held out his hand to her and asked for a dance which she obliged. She was actually having a good time. The smell in the air was quite stale and musty, but after a few drinks she hardly noticed it. The musicians played nonstop, and the patrons were all the happier for it.

An hour later, there was a skirmish outside that caught Abbie's attention. She might be disguised as an 18th century foreigner, but she was a cop through and through.

"No need to fret about that, Miss Grace," Johny assured her. "I'm sure it's not serious." They continued to dance as did everyone else once the problem was presumed resolved.

Unfortunately, it was a bigger deal than immediately known. A wealthy merchant had been taken up to a room by a couple of well dressed prostitutes. After playfully tying him up, the women robbed him blind. After he caused a commotion he was forced to leave pub, and now he was back with the Constable and a couple of officers known as the Bow Street Runners.

The officers entered the party with an air of superiority. The music came to a halt and a hush came over the crowd as the officers pulled several well dressed women aside. Among them Abbie and Sally. They were taken outside and questioned.

Johny tried his best to vouch for Abbie and Sally, not wanting them to be mistaken for prostitutes, but the officers weren't buying it. Abbie was far too well dressed for the party.

Finally one of the officers approached her and stood very strictly before her. "What is your name and where are you from?"

"My name is Grace. I'm a foreigner here visiting with my friend Lord Jackson Darby," Abbie informed him very strait faced and confident.

He raised an eyebrow, not believing one bit of what she said. "Grace you say? And you say you're here with Lord Darby?"

"It's Miss Grace, sir. And it's true," Sally chimed in. The young woman was extremely nervous fearing that it was her fault Grace was in this situation.

"And who are you?"

"My names Sally. I'm her Lady's maid and I've been employed by Lord Richard Darby at Lotleigh Estate for over a year now."

Now he believed them to be in league with one another and fitting the description given by the merchant. "May I see your purse... Miss Grace?"

Well if he wasn't buying their story before, Abbie knew her purse full of money would only further his doubt. She reluctantly handed him the purse. He opened it and was truly shocked. "And how have you acquired such a sum?"

"I told you, I am here at the pleasure of Lord Darby," Abbie insisted. She saw him wave another officer over and saw that at least three other women were being taken into custody for prostitution.

"Wait, I have proof." She pulled out the letter bearing Lord Derby's seal. He read it then looked at Abbie.

Another officer was about to take them into custody but he held up his hand and stopped him. "Tell the Constable these two will come with me. I will personally confirm their story." He handed the letter and purse back to Abbie.

He walked them over to a separate carriage. "Come with me ladies."

"We don't know who you are? We aren't going anywhere." Abbie insisted.

"Miss Grace, my name is Officer Nate Bradley. Trust that I mean only to escort you home and verify that your story is true. I mean you no harm."

Abbie believed him. And Upon closer observation, Abbie noticed something about the handsome man's look. He was mixed. Mulatto they called it back in these days. He had a very fair completion, and lovely hazel eyes. Abbie was certain with his good looks, he had caught the eye of many young women. She also figured that cops in these days probably made a relatively low wage. She couldn't help but be curious about him. Probably part of those instincts that would have served her well as an FBI profiler.

He held out his hand to help Abbie into the carriage. But before she was in she heard Ichabod's voice.

"Miss Grace!" Ichabod yelled. He hopped out of his carriage before it had fully stopped, and went hastily to her. "What is the meaning of this?" He demanded of the officer.

Nathaniel explained the circumstances of the ladies being temporarily detained. That the prostitutes who perpetrated the theft where finely dress, and one of them was of dark complexion.

"I assure you Miss Grace is no prostitute!" Ichabod was angry at the suggestion. "And neither is Sally." Ichabod gave her a very disappointed look and the girl hung her head from embarrassment. "If your inquiry is complete I shall like to take them home most directly."

"Of course Lord Darby," Nate tipped his head. Ichabod turned on his heal and walked back to his carriage with the two ladies following. "Miss Grace..." Nate called quietly after Abbie. "May I call upon you tomorrow and inquire as to your well being?"

"Yeah, sure," Abbie nodded, hardly paying attention. She was more focused on Ichabod, who was already getting an attitude.

Ichabod had been quiet during the ride home, and went directly to his room once they were there.

"I'm so sorry, Miss," Sally was nearly in tears. If she lost this job, she'd be hard pressed to find one equal.

"Don't worry about it. I'll talk to him. You didn't do anything wrong." Abbie reassured her.

Abbie was washed and changed for bed before she heard the knock at her bedroom door. She knew Ichabod was upset and braced to defend her actions. She opened the door just a crack, and peeked out.

"May I come in?" He asked.

She stepped to the side and he came in. He was still dressed though his shirt was completely undone. Abbie thought he meant to distract her as he paced back and forth. Finally he approached her. Abbie already had her argument formed and ready. No amount of exposed chest would confuse her.

There was only a few inches between them, forcing her to look nearly straight up and him directly down. "Abbie, I'm sorry."

Abbie's expression went from stern to confused. "Excuse me?"

"I am very sorry."

Abbie tipped her head and tried to think of what his angle could be. "So that's it? No long rant or lecture?"

"Well," he began, "as I was in my room contemplating the turn of events, I was angry..."

"But you..." She started to argue but he cut her off.

"I was angry at first," he continued. But as I began to think upon what I would say to you, I thought about your answers and I realized... I left you in a very uncomfortable position. I allowed the time to get away from me as I enjoyed the nostalgia of the moment. I can not blame you for not wishing to remain in a situation that was less than pleasant, and I have every confidence in your ability to look after yourself."

"Oh," Abbie said quietly trying to rethink what she wanted to say. "I guess I should have left a message for you instead of just leaving."

"When Mrs. Duboise said that she couldn't find you, I admit... I was so worried. But I could feel... Sense... That you were in no serious danger." He gently placed a hand on her cheek, and caressed it. His soft blue eyes drawing her in. "But I honestly don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you."

He kissed her tender on the lips then held her in his arms. Abbie was a bit flustered at how understanding he was being. She had expected him to be a complete jerk about the whole thing. Now she was completely turned on.

She kissed him again letting him know all was forgiven.

They said "I love you" many times, which was wonderful. Their minds were so in sink it was as if they were in a world all their own. He kissed her passionately as he tucked her in bed before they fell asleep in each other's arms.

~4) Seeing Other People

The next morning Ichabod and Abbie woke to the sound of a knock on the door followed by Sally's high pitched accent. They were momentarily disoriented but quickly realized where they were.

"Miss, I'm here with the hot water you requested for your morning bath," Sally said patiently waiting in the hall.

"Just a minute," Abbie called out to her.

Ichabod Jumped out of bed and quietly searched for his clothes. "My apologies Lieutenant," he whispered. "I over slept. I had intended to a waked before sunrise and return to my room."

Abbie didn't see the big deal. "Don't worry about it. Just let her in."

"And have her think you are of easy virtue?" Ichabod scoffed quietly. "Absolutely not."

"So you're worried about my reputation?"

"Of course... lest all of London believe I brought you here as a concubine for my personal pleasure."

"I think they probably already assume that's what I am," Abbie teased reaching her foot out to rub his bare leg.

He raised his eyebrows and tightened his lip letting her know he was not amused. He walked over to the wall observing it curiously. Abbie watched as his hands scurried down the side of the fireplace.

"I am in love with you Lieutenant. And I do not wish for anyone to view you in a less than favorable light... Ah, of course." He pulled on a wall lantern and the panel slid open revealing a hidden passage way."

"That is pretty cool," Abbie said as she got out of bed and went to his side.

"These tunnels were used by royals to hide from disgruntled peasants, political rivals, and of course to hide Lovers..."

"Miss Grace, is everything alright?" Sally called out.

Ichabod quickly kissed Abbie before ducking into the passageway.

It felt good to soak in the tub after the crazy night she'd had. And the bath oils that Ichabod had sent to her were Devine. After a good forty minutes and absorbing every bit of hot water, Sally brought her a towel and robe. She quickly dried herself, but as Sally helped her put on the robe, the young woman let out a gasp.

"Oh, Miss!" Sally stepped back putting her hand over her mouth.

"What is it," Abbie's eyes widened with concern.

"The bruises on your back," Sally was near tears. "It's my fault if Lord Darby was upset with ya. I should never have invited ya to that party, Miss."

Abbie went to the mirror and turned her shoulder. Sure enough they were bruised from the ornate moldings on the wall, which explained why they felt so sore. And poor Sally must be thinking the absolute worst of Ichabod, or rather Lord Jackson Darby.

"Sally, it's not what you think," Abbie tried to reassure her.

"Oh, no. Don't ya defend him. I know it's not my place to say, and I might lose my position, but I can't stand for this, Miss. I've heard stories from my brother about the things that happen to your people. He worked on a ship for a year, and still has nightmares about it. It ain't right."

"Sally, I assure you, Lord Jackson didn't hurt me."

"Oh, no. Then how'd ya get them bruises up and down your back?"

"From the wall."

Sally shook her head. Of course now she thought Jackson had slammed her into the wall. "Oh, Miss. He pushed ya into the wall?"

"Sally, I am going to tell you this in confidence. You can't tell any one. You promise?"

"I swear it Miss" Sally was confused and eager to know what was going on.

"He didn't push me into the wall... We were having … relations… against the wall."

Sally went from pale white to completely red. Abbie had a very blunt way if putting things sometimes and the information caught her off guard.

"Oh, I'm such an idiot! I'm so sorry , Miss." She covered her face to hide her blushing. "We weren't told what your position was... Is... I mean, there's speculation. Everyone is wondering..."

"Wondering if I'm his Mistress, or Courtesan maybe?" Abbie quipped and Sally turned another shade of red. "Things are different where I come from. People who care for each other don't always wait until they're married before being together. But here, Society is more conservative. And Lord Darby doesn't want me... Or himself to have a bad reputation."

"I understand. He must be quite torn. It's all so romantic." Sally mused as she helped Abbie dress.

"Why would he be torn?" Abbie winced as the young woman tightened her corset.

"Because the Duke and Duchess want him to marry the Barron's daughter. His uncle has invited them for a private breakfast. They're dining as we speak. But I'm to lay out a dress for a private party you will be attending with them tonight

Abbie felt her heart sink a bit. She faked a smile as she tried to remember, they were playing at this. He had to pretend to be Jackson Darby and do his best not to alter his family's history. And she had to play the part of an ancestor she knew nothing about.

Ichabod sat at the dining table far from amused. Eleanor was a lovely girl of twenty-two and her sizable dowry made her a fine catch. But obviously he was not interested. She did her best to flirt by batting her green eyes and twirling the blond curl that hung over her shoulder.

Ichabod wasn't sure how to act as Lord Jackson Darby. He knew of course that at some point the young man was disowned and cast out of society. He had thought it was when he left to travel the world, but clearly the family had intended for him to come home.

The Baroness was certainly making a case for the pairing. She practically had the nuptials planned and was moving on to naming her grandchildren.

Finally the breakfast was over, and Ichabod hoped to dismiss himself to find Abbie. But his uncle had other plans. "Perhaps Miss Eleanor could delight us with her talents on the piano forte."

"It would be my pleasure," she smiled coyly at Ichabod.

They made their way to the parlor, but Ichabod stopped his uncle before they entered. "Uncle, might I have a word with you in private?" He whispered.

"What is it, my boy?"

"Clearly this is an attempt to arrange a marriage. And I believe we should put an end to this madness."

"If this is about Miss Grace, I suggest you get used to the idea that she can be no more than a mistress. You are a future Duke."

"But Uncle, you could have at least told me they were coming to join us for the day."

"I had every intention. I went to your room last night but I could hear that you and Miss Grace were otherwise occupied." Ichabod turned ghost white at his uncle's remark. He was thoroughly embarrassed. "We can talk later, Jackson. Our guests are waiting," George put him off.

And if things weren't awkward enough, when George and Ichabod entered the parlor, they found the Barron's family face to face with Abbie. Of course they recognized her since he brought her to the ball last night.

Ichabod and Abbie locked eyes and she fought the urge to fold her arms and roll her eyes. He was stunned for a moment, but quickly recovered. "Umm... I don't believe you've been properly introduced. This is Miss Grace, my... Companion... Travel companion... And this is Barron Weston, his wife Lady Weston and their daughter Lady Eleanor."

Eleanor managed a slight curtsy and Abbie did her best to return one. It was still very awkward.

"I believe we were promised music to entertain us," George smiled at Eleanor, skillfully defusing the tension.

"Of course," Eleanor smiled. She turned her nose up at Abbie as she went towards the piano. Eleanor was quite accomplished. The piece she played by Gluck was well done and impressive.

"She plays well," George spoke quietly to Ichabod in an attempt to persuade him. "She is also a skilled painter and speaks three languages."

"She's a lovely young woman, but I am simply not interested in becoming engaged." Ichabod smiled apologetically in Abbie's direction.

"Jackson, you can have your cake and eat it too," George gave his nephew a sly smile.

Ichabod knew exactly what his uncle was speaking of. But before he could respond Eleanor finished and they began politely applauding her efforts. She joined her mother on the sofa, still giving Abbie surly glances. She whispered something to her mother as George complimented her father.

"Do you play, Grace?" Lady Weston turned her attention to Abbie. "I should think a proper travel companion would be accomplished."

"Indeed she does," Ichabod chimed in before Abbie could deny her skill.

"Well then she must delight us with her talents?" Lady Weston insisted.

"I haven't practiced anything..." Abbie tried to excuse herself.

"How about a rendition of 'The Well Tempered Clavier' by Bach. I do rather enjoy that piece," Ichabod smiled at Abbie.

She wasn't smiling back, but he could hear her thoughts clear as day. * The well tempered what, now? I don't know that song.*

*You played it to Ave Maria, you'll do fine* he assured her. He had heard her play it a couple of weeks earlier in their living room, and thought it was lovely.

She gave him a hard side eye as she sat at the piano * I'm going to kick your ss for this Crane*

Of course she played well, to the dismay of Eleanor and her mother. Their faces grew more sour with every note. Ichabod stood closer to admire her causing Lady Weston to pull out her fan and wave it as if staving off faintness.

Lord Weston was intrigued and approached George. "She is very talented," he whispered.

"In more ways than you know," George whispered back with a sly smirk.

"Where ever did he find her? I suddenly find myself in need of a travel companion," the men laughed quietly, then politely clapped when Abbie finished.

Abbie sat mostly quiet in a chair as the group conversed about nonsense and gossip, which she knew nothing about. She desperately tried to think of the polite way to excuse herself. Perhaps if she simply slipped out, no one would notice.

Finally she was saved by the butler Mr. O'Riley. "Pardon, my Lords, Officer Nate Bradley is here to see Miss Grace." He held out his arm to direct Nate into the room. Now Eleanor's face lit up, while Ichabod looked unpleasantly surprised.

"Officer Bradley, what brings you here?" Ichabod tried to keep his cool.

"Last night I asked Miss Grace if I could call upon her to make sure she arrived home safely and was doing well."

"I'm doing much better now, thank you," Abbie smiled.

Nate was very uncomfortable and he had a feeling 'Grace' was uncomfortable as well. "Perhaps you would care to take the air with me?" He asked her.

"I'd love to," Abbie hopped up from her seat. Anything to get out of that stuffy parlor.

Ichabod gruffly cleared his throat while staring directly at Nate. Abbie could feel hints of anger pinching at her nerves.

Nate still did not understand the nature of their relationship, but if Lord Jackson Darby didn't want them to go, he would have to say so directly. "That is, if it is alright with the Master of the house."

"She may go," Ichabod answered reluctantly.

Now Abbie was pissed. *wrong answer! I'm free to come and go as I damn well please* She brushed past Ichabod, who read her mind loud and clear, and let Nate walk her out.

Ichabod gulped hard as he watched them leave. He felt ridiculous having not meant it the way it came across. He knew he was going to pay for that.

Nate took Abbie for a stroll down the streets of London. He towered over her with his large masculine build. She marveled at the beautiful estates and town houses before they turned down a street with markets and shops. He continually asked her questions about where she was from, and she remained vague.

"A small isolated village in Africa," she brushed quickly. "And you? Were you born here or abroad?"

"I was born on a ship just of the coast of England as it entered the River Thames," he smiled, his green eyes lit up mysteriously.

"Hmm," Abbie mused curiously. "It sounds like there's a story to be told." She could sense Ichabod trying to reach her with telepathy but she blocked him out. She would know if it were an emergency. He was just being nosey because she was out without him. She kept her attention on Nate.

"My father was a merchant sea captain. He owned a ship that imported sugar and Rum from the West Indies. My mother was the daughter of a plantation owner and his mistress slave in Antigua." Nate told a love story fitting of a romance novel, and Abbie hung on his every word. "We were happy here for years. My dad continued trading in Sugar and Rum, and we lived well. Then when I was nine years old, my mother and I contracted Scarletina. She didn't survive."

He looked sad as he reminisced. Abbie couldn't help but think what a shame that a simple infection was deadly in this time.

"My dad wasn't the same after she died. I became his apprentice and traveled with him to and from the West Indies, until he died. He left me his ship and a small inheritance. And this is my shop." They stopped in front of a mercantile shop 'Bradley.'s Commodities'.

Nate handed some coins to a few beggar children in exchange for them cleaning the manure from the street. He opened the door and lead Abbie (Grace) in. There was an older gentleman working behind the counter. Nate introduced him as Mr. McFarlan, before sending him off to get a bite to eat. "By day I run my shop and deal in commodities trade, and by night I am an officer of the Law. I have a hired captain for my ship so I am always well supplied."

Abbie gave him a disappointed look. The shop was impressive, but it didn't settle well with her. "So your mother was a slave... Your father barely rescued her and brought her here. But you still trade in the Caribbean and the Colonies, where slaves are abused for all of this?" Abbie tried not to be too judgmental, but it pained her to think about it.

Nate had hoped to impress her with his hard work, skill, and amassing fortune. Instead she called him on something that weighed heavy on him. "It is a necessary evil, Miss Grace."

Abbie stifled a scoff. He was one of those guys. "Hmm... That's pretty much an excuse people use to do something they know is wrong." Nate looked a bit crushed by her words. Abbie shook her head. "Look, I get it. This is the way things are. It's just... It's not right."

Nate wasn't sure why, but something was compelling him to trust her. "Miss Grace, there is something I want to tell you about my work..."

"We don't have to talk about it. I was putting my nose where it doesn't belong," Abbie attempted to change the conversation.

"No, please listen." he took her hand and guided her to sit beside him. "After my dad brought my mother back to England, he went back to Antigua for her family. He could only take two at a time to keep from getting caught... But then there were others who wanted to leave, so it became our mission."

"Oh my god," Abbie was astonished. This officer of the law was an abolitionist. "How have you not been caught after all these years?"

"There have been several occasions where we were nearly discovered. That is why I chose my profession in the law."

Abbie was impressed. They talked for a little while about some of his adventures before he turned the ships wheel over to his friend and comrade. "Where do you send them... once you pull them out of slavery? I can't think of a place where they could truly be free."

"Many come to England, since they are presumed free once they are on English soil, but we send them all over. We provide them with proper documentation and currency for the country which they will be residing. But you are correct. No place is truly free or safe. Slavery must be abolished. It is not enough for England to say it is not legal and yet allow the atrocity to continue through trade in Liverpool and in the Colonies. Tomorrow Ignatius Sancho will hold a forum and speak on the matter."

Abbie's eyes lit up. Sancho was famous for his work to abolish the slave trade. If she could actually have the opportunity to hear him speak, it would be unbelievable. "Tomorrow? Really? It would be incredible to be there."

"Indeed. But, I'm afraid the forum is only for men."

Abbie was deflated. "Oh suffrage hasn't happened yet either," she quipped under her breath.

"I beg your pardon?" Nate wasn't sure what she was saying.

"Oh...nothing..."

The door to the shop opened and Mr. McFarlan came back in, handed Nate a note, and took his place behind the counter.

"I should escort you back to Lotleigh Estate," Nate stood and gave her a generous smile. He then pulled a panel off the wall and hid the note before placing the panel back.

McFarlan cleared his throat getting Nate's attention. His eyes darted between Nate and Abbie, as if thinking it unwise to reveal the secret hiding spot.

"It's all right old friend," he smiled. "We can trust Miss Grace." Even as he spoke the words he couldn't understand why he was so compelled to trust this woman. She was a virtual stranger that he had only met the night before.

Ichabod paced back and forth in the parlor, repeatedly checking the window for Abbie. He had been relieved when the Baron finally left with his wife and daughter in tow. All he could think about was Abbie, making him poor company. Finally he saw her approaching the estate with Nate. They were smiling and talking as they walked, giving Ichabod an uneasy feeling. His eyes grew wide and heat rose in his body as he watched Nate take Abbie's hand and kiss it. Nate then removed his hat and gave her a farewell bow.

Abbie waltzed into the home all smiles, kissing Ichabod on the cheek. "That was pretty damn cool. I actually got to walk the streets of 18th century London," she said very impressed with her day.

"Well he certainly kept you out long enough," Ichabod scowled. "It's nearly time for supper. Not to mention we have a formal engagement this evening."

Abbie could tell he was in a foul mood and she was not here for that right now. "He's a nice guy."

She went upstairs, and he followed. "I find it rather ill mannered of him to pursue you like a vulture."

"He was not."

"Oh, do you deny that he fancies you?"

Abbie shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know. I really wasn't even thinking about that. It's not like you weren't busy with little Miss Princess."

"That was not my choice," Ichabod retorted as he opened his bedroom door for her to go in. He didn't want to continue this conversation were they were at risk of being heard by the servants or his uncle.

Abbie would rather have gone to her own room, but she decided to oblige him. "Well I didn't want to sit around while she gave me the evil eye. It was awkward. And Nate is a really great guy. He's an abolitionist, and he's done amazing things for our people."

"Our people?" Ichabod looked befuddled, dragging out the words.

"Well, surly you can tell he's biracial," Abbie was starting to gush. "And he's done some really brave and wonderful things to help 'our' people."

"You sound smitten," Ichabod moaned hardly hiding his bruised ego. He sat down on the edge of the bed looking like a wounded puppy. "Did you happen to tell him that you already have an attachment?"

"It didn't come up," Abbie tipped her head as she looked at him. This was really bothering him. "look, Crane... I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings by taking off with Nate."

Ichabod took her hands and gently pulled her to him as he sat. She stood between his thighs and let her fingers run through his hair. "I too am regretful of the Eleanor business. I never wish to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I know," Abbie whispered as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. She started to turn away intending to go to her room, but he held her still in her place. Tenderly his lips tapped sweet pecks on her neck and he began to loosen her top.

"Crane, what are you doing?" She smiled and sighed at the softness of his kisses. "It'll be time to eat soon."

"You and I have had a tiff," he spoke in a deep low voice, as he removed her top exposing her corset. "Now we shall make up."

"Oh... Make up sex, huh," she teased, kicking off her shoes.

"Mmm...indeed," he softly kissed her cheek as he began to whisper. "Oh, take me to your calm retreats again, Even in such scenes amidst your gloom. I find..." he managed to get her out of her petticoat and took a moment to admire her wearing only a corset and thigh high stockings. "A ray of pensive hope to cheer my mind." He pulled her into a kiss as she began to undo his shirt.

She then knelt down took of his boots, "go on."

He continued the sonnet "that Heavenly mercies brighter hours ordain."

She loved it when he recited poetry to her

"I need you, Abbie..." His voice was low and severe.

She kissed him generously as he pulled her onto the bed.

*Say it again. The sonnet... My favorite part.* her thoughts begged to him.

*Oh, take me into your calm retreats again* his voice sang through her mind, as his mind repeated those words.

He kissed her again and again, not wanting to be separated from her. He wanted only to be lost inside her, for as long as they could stay.

~ 5) Secret Lovers

It took an hour by carriage to arrive at West Gable Manor. Fiona's small estate was just outside of London. Abbie and Ichabod sat across from each other, while George occupied the seat next to Ichabod (Jackson).

They couldn't resist making sexy eyes, and stifling their giggles. Abbie couldn't stop thinking about Ichabod, even though they had just spent a good part of the after noon making love. She could tell by the randy look on Ichabod's face that he too was in quite the mood. He looked her up and down and licked his lips. She felt a rush of heat flash through her body.

"Ah, we are here!" George exclaimed as he looked out the carriage window.

Abbie's heart jumped and Ichabod slightly jolted in his seat as their moment was abruptly interrupted.

As the carriage slowed in front of the house George addressed the two. "Jackson, Miss Grace, here you are free to be who you are."

"Ichabod and Abbie looked at each other then back at George. Did he know that they were impostors?

"Uncle, I don't understand," Ichabod responded with questioning look.

"A Lord with a female traveling companion?" George raised his eyebrow at his nephew.

"It is not unheard of..." Ichabod tried to explain.

"True, however, you are in love with Miss Grace. You are the only son of Lord Richard Darby the Duke of Cantonport. Marrying Grace is just not possible. If you marry her you will be disowned. But, if the two of you truly love each other, you can still be together."

Abbie was surprised that George was being so up front about this. She didn't quite know how to react.

However, Ichabod was a little irritated. "You mean I should take a wife in name only and keep Miss Grace as my mistress?"

"Yes, Jackson," George was quite serious. "You are not the first man to have to marry out of duty and obligation. And you surly will not be the last."

The footman opened the door before Ichabod could protest. Abbie placed a hand on his arm to calm him. "Let's just try to enjoy the party. A couple more days and we go to Netherborne."

Ichabod nodded quietly. He knew this was all about playing the part. But he didn't want to be disrespectful to Abbie... or her ancestor for that matter.

It was a small party of only ten couples; rich noblemen and their mistresses or courtesans. It was like a secret society. Ichabod knew such things existed. He had heard rumors, but he had never been a part of it.

The music was lively and seductive as couples danced loosely with each other. One couple sat in a corner making out like teenagers in the back seat of a car.

"Well this is not much more than a festival of salaciousness!" Ichabod growled hard under his breath.

"No, these people just love each other," she smiled.

As if on cue, a tray of large sliced chocolate dipped strawberries drizzled with cream, was offered to them. Ichabod's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

He picked one off the tray and held it to her. "Well, is it just me or is this not meant look like a woman's..."

Abbie quickly took a bite of the berry, stopping Ichabod mid sentence. He swallowed hard as he watched her delight in the treat, then lick the last bits of the confection from his fingers. He felt butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach.

Abbie smiled at his change in demeanor. She grabbed two glasses of wine which they both downed quickly. "Come on, let's dance."

The pair waltzes around the dance floor, finally relaxing and enjoying the night. For the next couple of hours, it was wine, champagne, confections and dancing. Ichabod noticed his uncle Gorge and Madame Fiona entangled in a rather compromising position. Now he understood his uncle a little better.

By midnight couples began to disappear. Ichabod was quite intoxicated and ready to leave. It would take an hour to ride back to Lotleigh Estate, where he could fully enjoy Abbie again.

"I'm afraid it is time we call it a night." Ichabod informed his uncle.

"No, please stay," Fiona chimed in. "My servants are preparing a room for you and Grace as we speak." She waved her hand and a maid came to her. "Maggie, please show Lord Darby and Miss Grace to their room."

"Thank you," Ichabod tipped his head and bid them good night.

The room was lavish. Nude paining hung on the walks, while red velvet was draped across the bed and hung from the windows. A tray of assorted confections, including the very tantalizing strawberries that had warranted Ichabod's attention, sat on the dresser. Abbie grabbed a berry, seductively licking the cream and teasing Ichabod, before popping it in her mouth. Her eyes widened when she saw some very seductive play things. She picked up the little horse whip and waved it at Ichabod.

He nearly choked, "absolute debauchery!" He said more teasing now than indignant.

Abbie laughed out loud, knowing that he was a lot less prudish in private than he had been in public. As she dropped the whip and put her arms around him.

There was a warm bath drawn in the water closet. They wasted no time undressing leaving only their undergarments on. Abbie could breathe freely without the constraints of the corset. They were still pretty drunk, playfully splashing water at each other as they washed.

Soon Ichabod had enough playing around, and Abbie could see the mood shift in his blue eyes as he put his arms around her. Her lips tasted of candy and champaign, and he loved sweets. As they kissed they made their way to the bed to enjoy the rest of the night.

"What about these?" Abbie pointed to the assortment of playthings.

"You're not serious?"

"Well… we're here and well, YOLO."

Now Ichabod was very confused, " what on earth is a YO -Lo?" he said glancing and sifting his hands through the objects. "I don't see any Yo - Lo."

"No, no. It's not a toy. It's an anagram. Y O L O... A saying. It means you only live once. A modern day carpe diem."

"Ah, I see." He took a moment and agreed!

~ 6) Living History

"Lieutenant, if I could bring you along, I would. However the forum is strictly for men only." Ichabod tried to explain as he buttoned his shirt.

They had arrived back at Lotleigh estate rather early in the day. Now Uncle George planned to take "Jackson" to the men's only coffee house then to the men's only forum to hear Sancho give a speech.

"Oh come on. You're really going to deny me the opportunity to witness a part of history?" She looked at him quite cross as he gave her an apologetic shoulder hunch. "Well then you shouldn't go either." She pouted. "You admitted that your dad and uncle will take you to one of his speeches when your ten years old. So technically you've done this before."

"And I would gladly skip the event, but, lieutenant... Abbie. I am given a chance to spend some time with my family. People who are dead to me, that once we return to our time, I shall never see again. I love my uncle George... I've missed him. I'll never get this opportunity again."

"Fine," Abbie conceded. She helped him straighten his collar. He was right. These people, his family, they were all dead and gone. "You should get to spend some time with your loved ones."

He cupped her cheeks with his hands as she gave him the sweetest smile. "You are my treasure." He gave her a sweet tender kiss, before leaving to join his uncle.

Abbie sat at piano in the parlor bored out of her mind. She tinkered at playing, but she simply hadn't learned many classics. And the sheet music was not the easiest to read. Finally she came across Bach's cello suit #1. Of course there was no way she could manage it on the cello, but she'd tinkered with it on the piano before. She could play the beginning easily but much of the rest she muddled through. She figured now was as good a time to practice as she'd ever get.

Her second time through was much better. But she was so into playing that she didn't notice Mr. O'Riley escort Nate into the parlor. O'Riley was about to interrupt her, but Nate put up his hand to stop him. He waited patiently for her to finish then calmly applauded. Her heart jumped a bit when she turned to see who was standing there.

"Pardon, Miss," O'Riley spoke up. "Officer Bradley is here to see you."

"Thank you, Mr. O'Riley," she dismissed him, and waited for him to leave. "what are you doing here? I thought you were going to the forum to hear Sancho speak."

"I am on my way," he smiled. " you don't look ready to go."

"Very funny," Abbie quipped. "You and Jackson have made it very clear... No girls allowed."

"True, however, Nobody has to know that you're a girl." He handed her a small sack. "They've been well laundered."

Abbie pulled out a cap and some boys clothing. She looked at Nate and smiled. "This is very thoughtful, but I can't. If I get caught I could get locked up and it could cause a scandal for Lord Darby."

"You won't get caught. I shall be there to protect you. If you are discovered, I know the magistrate well. He owes me several favors. He has a problem turning away from prostitutes." Nate smiled, hoping he wasn't being to crass with his language. But it didn't phase Abbie at all.

"Ok," she smiled. "I'll go get ready.

Abbie bound her breasts, and added padding around her waist to disguise her figure. She pinned up her hair as best she could and covered it with the cap. After smudging a bit of dark brown make-up on her chin she stepped back from the mirror to take a look.

"Not bad."

She strutted into the Parlor to show off her new look. Nate smiled. "Very well done indeed! And what shall we call you young man?"

Abbie thought for a moment, "how about August?"

"That's a fine name."

The forum was huge and lively. Nate took Abbie to an upper level where they would blend in more with the crowd. She was happy to see a few more people of color. She was a bit awe struck at being a part of history. Sancho's speech was moving and quite compelling. She knew she'd never forget this moment.

Nate looked at her as she listened to the speech. The sparkle in her eyes got to him, hell everything about her got to him.

After the forum, the two went to a bakery to pick up a bite to eat then went back to Nate's Shop for tea. Like many shopkeepers his home was adjacent, his on the two floors above Bradley's.

"Do you mind if I take some of this stuff off?" Abbie asked. "These bindings are worse than a corset."

Nate's heart fluttered a Bit at the ease of how she spoke about her undergarments. "Yes," he stammered a bit, "just upstairs to the right... And there's clean water and soap if you need it."

He put on a pot of tea which was ready when she came back down. Nate watched her admiring that even in trousers and a jacket, she was lovely. Her shirt was buttoned low, and without a bra or corset, exposes her natural cleavage. She let her hair down and it flowed loosely over her shoulders.

"I should have brought a change of clothes. I must look a mess."

"No," Nate tried not to fluster. "You look beautiful as ever."

"Englishmen are so polite."

They ate bread and had tea as they conversed about the movement and the ramifications it might have on the colonies. Of course Abbie knew what was to come with the revolution, but she played the part of Grace from Africa, a woman curious about the country she was visiting.

As they spoke she got a bit warm and took of her jacket. Nate went slack jaw at the sight of her thin white linen shirt which was see through. Abbie continued talking.

"What do you think?" She asked him, but he was oblivious to whatever she had just said. "Nate?"

She casually put her hand on his lap, sending him abruptly to his feet. "Miss Grace, I beg your pardon... I must leave you for a moment!" His eyes darted from her eyes to her top and back to her eyes.

Abbie looked down at her shirt and realized how she looked with no bra. "Oh, my gosh... I wasn't even thinking!"

They both reached for her jacket at the same time, bumping into each other. That was about as much as Nate could handle. "If you will excuse me please." He went upstairs to splash some cool water on his face.

While she waited, she could sense Ichabod trying to reach her. She opened up to him so that he could know she was fine.

"Grace, are you alright?" Nate came back downstairs and to her side.

"Yes, but I should be getting back home."

"If I have offended you with my completely inexcusable behavior..."

"Not at all. It was an honest mistake. And it was my fault for being careless," she smiled. "Lord Darby will be worried if I'm not back before dark."

"Then we'll take the carriage, instead of walking."

They arrived at Lotleigh estate as the sun was setting. Nate took her hand and helped her down from the carriage. Ichabod watched from the window, and nearly lost his mind when he saw her dressed in men's clothing.

"I had a fantastic time Nate." Abbie was beaming. "I got to be a part of history, and you made that happen."

"I assure you, Miss Grace, it was my pleasure." He smiled. "May I call on you again tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid not. We leave for Bedfordshire in the morning. We'll be spending a couple of weeks at Netherborne Estate with Lord Darby's cousins."

"Will you be returning to London?" Nate was now worried that this magnificent woman would slip out of his life.

Abbie shook her head, "I can't be certain. Maybe for a day, before we head back out on our travels."

Nate scoffed quietly and looked away. What was a female travel companion? He had seen the looks between Lord Darby and Grace, but The Lord had also been entertaining an engagement with another woman. And Grace, in his eyes was far to fine a woman to be any man's concubine. His grandmother had been a concubine, trapped and bound to a man who was married to another woman.

"Grace... Is this the life you want? A life that's so unstable? Do you not desire a life with someone who will be devoted to you and only you. A life that's filled with adventure, love and devotion. Where you can settle down if and when you so choose?"

Abbie let out a soft sigh. "A life where I can chose to settle down when ever I want... I don't think that's in the cards for me. For now, this is what I have to do."

Nate actually felt a bit choked up. "Bedfordshire, huh?" She nodded. "Promise me that if you come back to London... Even if it's just for a day... You'll let me know."

"I will."

He took her hand and gently kissed it, holding it a bit too long for Ichabod's comfort. He hurried to the front door just as Nate was giving Abbie 'Grace', a deep flirtatious bow. Abbie watched and waved goodbye as he went off in his carriage.

She turned to find Ichabod at the door looking stunned. She hurried past him, "I'll explain upstairs."

He followed her into her room and locked the door. "What on Earth are you wearing?"

"Don't be mad. Nate escorted me to watch Sancho's speech." She cut him short. "We were perfectly safe. He is an officer of the law, after all."

"So you dressed in boys clothing?!" He watched as Abbie took off the Jacket, and her breast were popping. "Good lord! You can see clear through that shirt!"

"I know. Don't worry. I had everything wrapped and covered. I took it off when I got back to Nate's place."

"You did what?" Ichabod was flabbergasted. The vein in his forehead began to show.

"Not like that. Come on. You know I'm faithful to you. I really wanted to go, and he made that happen it was exciting. I had a great time, and I've made a really good friend."

"Abbie," Ichabod shook his head. "The man has fallen in love with you."

"No he hasn't." Abbie figured she probably shouldn't mention the incident. She casually took of the boys pants.

"Abbie, he held you're hand, and kissed it. That is very intimate contact by the standards of this era."

"Well it's not intimate by my standards."

He was about to say something else, but Abbie bent over, and started taking off the boy clothing. What ever Ichabod was about to say went right out of his mind.

Abbie knew how to shut him up. But she also knew how to make it up to him when she put him in a bad mood. Ichabod swallowed hard as she walked his way.

"I'm still not pleased with the situation," he stammered as she unbuttoned his shirt.

"I know." She whispered kissing him.

You mean to distract me Lieutenant..." His voice was low and breathy.

Yes, I do, she said playfully pushing him onto the bed. It worked.

He laid back again, his hands firm on her hips drawing her body to join him, as he began a playful sonnet he thought she'd like. "You sit down, says Love." He lowered her to him kissing her cheeks. "And taste my meat. So I did sit, and eat."

Once again they found joy with each other.

*Oh Crane...* her mind called out to him.

*I love you Abbie* she heard him call back to her.

The rest was just bliss. All night long they loved each other; touching, holding, kissing each other, unable to get enough.

It had to be the sensation of his hands gently roaming up and down her body that woke her. She slowly opened her eyes to see Ichabod looking down on her in the darkness. He smiled... She smiled.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, planting a gentle kiss on her lips.

"You should be sleeping," she smiled letting her fingers trail through his hair. "We're going to Netherborne in a few hours... To see your parents."

"It's incredible," he smiled kissing her again. He laid down pulling her upon his chest and wrapping his arms around her. She let her head rest on his chest, as his heartbeat lulled her back to sleep.