As he strode toward the parlour, William could hear that someone was within, playing the pianola. Assuming it was Eleanor, he entered with a small smile quirking his lip, eager to sit down and listen to his sister. Upon seeing that it was Margaret seated in the otherwise empty room playing at the instrument, his smile vanished. Margaret glanced up at him and he saw her lips tighten, her eyes grew cold. Without missing a beat, she continued to move her fingers across the keys, though her playing grew more forceful as she began to bang away at the keys. She averted her gaze from his and ignored him entirely. He studied her for a long moment, he could see how tense she had become as soon as he entered. It was strange, for had expected, at the very least, that she would stop playing and quietly excuse herself. Instead, she continued on as though his sudden presence did not intimidate her in the slightest. Watching her, he could see quite clearly that she was far from being cowed by him.

He sat at one of the small tables with his back to her and spread out that mornings broadsheet before him, then began to read. In turning his back on her, he knew she would be unable to see the pleasure he derived from her playing, she could not see his reaction to her at all and would most likely judge him as still irate. Which he was, in no small measure.

And it seemed she was every bit as furious. Probably over that damned nephew of hers. Or perhaps it was due to their previous nights congress, when he'd taken what he wanted from her and then left her there in the room alone. He'd heard his mother complaining in the past, Aunt Jane also, that at times, they had felt as though they were nothing more than decorations for their husbands, and slaves to their whims. He'd sympathised with them, back then, but now he understood his father and his uncle far better than before. He did love Margaret, and he did want her in his company, but after her betrayal, he was unable to find any joy in it.

"Really, Margie," Rose said as she entered the room. "What is that racket? You were playing so beautifully before. Oh," she stopped dead, meeting her son's eyes. Her exasperation with Margaret gave way to understanding, which irritated William. Rose had discerned why Margaret's playing had become such a racket. Because of him. He could feel more and more that his mother was siding with Margaret, all of the women of his family were siding with bloody Margaret. Again, Margaret gave no response, but her playing did become smoother, more lyrical and expert, rather than the thrashing she was hurting their ears with a moment earlier.

Hot on Rose's heels, Bertie came dashing into the room. For several long moments William stared at the boy, his natural son, and the youth lost some of his exuberance under his father's withering stare. William turned his attention back to the broadsheet, but he found he could not concentrate to read a single line.

"Really, William," his mother breathed, berating him for his coolness toward the boy. He tightened his lips and ignored her. What did she expect? She'd bought Jilly's child all the way from England, to a war torn country, and dumped him on William without a bloody thought! What was he supposed to do with a child? Take him off to live at the fort? Spend time teaching him to play cricket or to ride a horse, when he was trying to win a war? It was utterly ridiculous.

"'Margie," the boy said, and William heard the shyness in his voice. He wondered if Margaret had been as cool to the boy as he himself was being. He'd seen Bertie fly into Eleanor's arm, squealing with joy - but with Margaret, he approached carefully, shyly. Little Bertie was still an untouched bone of contention between them, something that needed to be discussed, but with all that had happened, had ceased being a priority. It was another fight William knew would be coming, as soon as Margaret decided it was safe to challenge him. Judging by the harsh glare she was giving William now, which he caught sight of thanks to a chance glance over his shoulder, William felt certain that that argument would occur sooner rather than later.

"Yes, Bertie?" Margaret's voice was warm for the boy at least, and she stopped her playing to speak to the youth. William did not turn again to watch.

"'Igator! Garrr!" the boy said and William heard Margaret's musical laughter. She had been fury filled a moment ago, but she was taking joy from the boy now. William tightened his lips, not entirely certain how he felt about that.

"Who gave him that, Rose? It's carved beautifully!" She cried.

"Harford," Rose said, taking a seat. She brushed her skirts down and positioned them just so, before placing her hands in her lap. "He found a few chunks of wood and has been carving toys for Bertie. This is his favourite."

"Garrr!" Bertie declared again.

"Yes, alligators say 'garr'," Margaret scoffed quietly. "Right before they bite off your arms and gobble you right up. Let me see, Bertie."

She oohed over the toy, and she must have given it back, for the boy was now at William's side, trying to show him. Music again was tinkling around him, Margaret had resumed her playing.

"I think William has quite forgotten that he grew up with a bastard," Rose said haughtily, being deliberately coarse. "And he calls that bastard his brother."

"Stephen is not my bastard, though, is he?" William said coolly. He did take the carved alligator from the boy, who was biting his lip, watching apprehensively. "Very nice," he said after a moment. "You should thank Lieutenant Harford."

"Thank you!" Bertie said, misunderstanding his father. The boy took the toy and, rushing away, he flew his alligator through the air and shouted "garr!"

"Really William, I had thought better of you," Rose snapped, folding her arms across her chest. "I had thought you would welcome the boy. You care for Stephen, you know what his life would have been like if Charles had not placed him in our care. I gave a boy - who was not even my own - a home and a family. Why can't you do the same for your own son?"

William folded the broadsheet crisply, then lurched back from the table, shoving the chair back with his legs. He rounded on his mother, his face dark and eyes storming. Crisply, he accused, "You come here, without a word of warning, to tell me of a son that you have had in your care for six months, and never deigned to write to me about. And then you dump him in my lap and expect me to… to what?" He bit out, throwing his arms wide. "What am I supposed to do with him? Did you expect me to love him? Jilly's bastard, Mamma!"

Rose opened her mouth to speak, but Margaret got in first.

"And your bastard too, William. I suppose this boy should be grateful that you remember his mother's name, at least. In that, he is a lucky boy indeed," she was glaring up at him, spots of colour flaming her cheeks on her otherwise pale face. He shifted his glare to her, but again, she was not cowled. With a fury to match his own, she demanded, "how many other bastards are out there, William, who can't even say that much?" She arched an eyebrow, her fingers now still above the keys.

"I beg your pardon?" He asked, dangerously soft. "I don't recall giving you leave to speak."

She laughed at him. A derisive scoff which peeled through the room. Bertie had stopped dead by now, and barely seemed to be breathing as he watched the two angry adults facing off against one another.

"I don't recall asking your permission to speak, either," she snapped. "And nor will I ever ask for it! If you think to extend your husbandly authority so far as that, then I suggest you leave for the fort immediately, and leave me in peace to live here, for I shall not tolerate it for a moment of it." The two held one another's stares as Margaret rose slowly, stiffly to her feet. Separate from one another? That was how unhappy marriages were handled in the Colonies, in a place where there had not been a single case of divorce. The miserable couple lived apart, each in their own homes, never to be in one another's company. William had not even considered that as an option, but as he gazed at Margaret now, he could see that she was considering it quite seriously now. Margaret continued, "you can complain about how Bertie's presence effects you all you wish, but this boy is a product of your misadventures, William. And here we are, all having to pay the price for your folly. Even Bertie himself must pay, for he'll always only ever be a bastard! You don't give a single thought to how it effects him or us!"

"You accuse me of being selfish," he stared down his nose at her.

"He is astute after all," Margaret said loftily to Rose, who inclined her head, acknowledging Margaret's sarcasm. "As for what you're meant to do with him, William," she continued, her voice thick with disdain as she stabbed a finger toward him, "you, as his father, are meant to provide for him. Clothe him. Feed him. Educate him when he's older. Ensure he has a half decent life. You did have the siring of him after all."

"Are you done?" He snapped.

"Almost," she curled her lip. "You do not need to worry about the raising of this child. Furthermore, Bertie, my dear husband, does not need your love. He has that aplenty. Your mother and sister care for him deeply and I doubt Rose has any intention of releasing him from her care to yours. But we can, and shall, provide for him, as Lord Cornwallis has provided for Stephen."

"I'd hoped for more than that," Rose admitted, drawing William's ire from his wife to her. "Charles loves Stephen. Not overtly, and not publicly, but he loves his son none the less. I'd hoped that in time -"

"Bordon has returned," William cut in sharply. He'd heard the Major's voice coming from outside the parlour and he began striding toward the parlour doors, intending to have a much needed discussion.

"William, please," his mother pleaded but William continued on. He was at the doors now, but he stopped dead to stare in shock at Margaret, who said rather loudly, "don't bother trying to convince him, Rose. He's a damned stubborn fool who only cares about himself and about how everything affects him and him alone. Yes, William?" She arched an eyebrow, noting how he stood, ridged, at the door, clutching the door handle. "You're still here… do you wish to discuss it some more?"

Her mocking tone irritated him and he threw open the door and marched on through, then slammed it closed behind him.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

I will deal with this in a Gentlemanly manner, William, trying to be calm, decided it was for the best if he was sitting. He was less likely to go for Bordon's throat, if they were sitting and speaking; like gentlemen. He was in the office, and had sent Harford off with a summons to Bordon. The Major did not keep him waiting long, he had only been seated a few moments when the door opened and Philip strode in, wearing a welcoming grin.

"William," he said, pointing to the wound on the Colonel's neck. "How is it?" He lowered himself across from William, looking quite pleased with himself. William realised that Philip - despite being the one who was summoned - would chose this moment to ask William's blessing to marry Eleanor.

"It is nothing," the Colonel tightened his lips. "Just a scratch."

Philip arched an eyebrow at William's cool tone. For the first time since entering, he began to grow uncertain.

"I'm pleased to hear it - it looked quite nasty if you ask me."

"You're not a doctor, Bordon," he lifted his ankle, resting it on his knee.

"No, I'm not," Philip was beginning to feel quite nervous. The way the Colonel was gazing at him, like he was an ant the Colonel was thinking of squishing. "William, I -"

"I'm told you wish to marry my sister," William cut in, his voice cold, and as smooth as silk.

"Yes," Philip pulled at his cravat, it was feeling suddenly tight. "I had thought you might approve."

"How can I, when I was never informed of it? For four years you've kept this secret -"

"At my father's request," Philip laughed nervously. "It was his desire that you prove yourself, that you lift your family up to its afore known status."

"That in itself is insulting," William murmured, holding Philip's gaze.

"William, I don't know what to tell you," Philip was at a loss. "I was not allowed to become properly engaged to Ellie, he did not want me to be bound to her in case you failed. It was your idea after all, coming to the Colonies to prove yourself."

"Four years, Philip," William forward. "And in that time, you and I have fought at one another's side. We've saved one another's lives countless times. We've become as brothers, and you still keep this secret from me? My mother was allowed in on this little conspiracy, and worse yet, so was Ellie. You gave her a quickly whispered promise, enough to keep her from marrying any of her other courtiers!"

"I wanted her to wait for me," Philip lowered his eyes. "I didn't tell her that we could become engaged -"

"You expected her to wait for you, for four years, without even that much of a promise?" William spat, furious.

"I didn't want her to be hurt! Which she would have been, if my father had forbidden me to marry her!"

"Philip, what you succeeded in doing, was to make a young woman wait for you, without any true hope for marriage - for four years. You did that - to my sister!" he let the words sink in, watched as Philip slumped back in the seat, ashamed. "If I had 'failed'," his lips twisted on the word, "then her heart would have been broken, either way."

"What can I say?" Philip asked finally. "I'm sorry. For asking Ellie to wait for me. And for not telling you. Your mother knew of our intentions, I had hoped that that would be enough."

"My mother is not the one who will decide who marries my sister, Philip," William said, voice hard.

"Lord, William," Philip laughed, still nervous. He shuffled in his seat, unable to keep still. It was shocking - why wasn't his friend happy about this? Why in the world would he not want Philip for his sister? He'd not find a man of higher standing in all Britain! "Look. I've apologised. I should have told you, despite giving my word to my father that I would not. See here, time is of the essence! In only a few more weeks, my parents will learn of your marriage! We need to settle this now - before they have a chance to -"

"To do what?" William leaned forward abruptly, his eyes flashing, his face darkening and Philip drew back from that terrible stare. "What is it you suspect your family will do, Philip?"

"You've married a commoner," Philip said finally, voice as hard as William's. "No. Worse than that. You've married a Colonial, a woman who has no ties in England whatsoever. Upon learning this, they will withdraw their support for mine and Ellie's marriage, for they will not look upon such a connection with favour. But if we are already married," his voice turned pleading, "then my father can not withdraw support. He has given your mother free reign, to see the two of us wed at her discretion. He can not argue, he will not disinherit me. We need to move fast, William, for if I am not married to Eleanor by the time my father withdraws that support then I will have no choice but to comply with his wishes."

"Is that right?" William's voice was a gentle caress, the whisper of silk, and dangerous, like a newly bared dagger.

"You know it is," Philip licked his lips and rubbed his hands together briskly. He showed his nerves in a half hundred ways, and William saw them all. "I can not marry Ellie if it means I will be disinherited," he said softly. "Which is what he will do if I marry her after he withdraws his support. Come now, don't look at me like that! You must understand this! If I'm disinherited, what life could I provide for Ellie?"

"The same she's content enough living right now, I suspect," William sniffed. "It seems I understand my sister better than you do. Philip, my marriage to Margaret has nothing to do with this. It is not your father's disapproval that will prevent you from marrying my sister."

"It's not..?" Philip frowned, then his eyes widened. "You are refusing me," he breathed.

"And why wouldn't I? Considering your recent conduct."

Philip swallowed, trying hard to gain control of his raging emotions. When he did gain a semblance of control, he began to grow angry.

"And what have I done, pray tell, that you find so offensive?" He asked tartly.

"You have been keeping a mistress, all the while you've intended to marry my sister," William replied, holding Philip's gaze. Philip's mouth dropped slowly open, he gaped. Finally, he remembered to breathe.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he ground out through clenched teeth.

"No? You forget, walls have ears. How long did you think no one would notice where you chose to sleep at night?" William arched an eyebrow. He decided that, to protect Maisy, he needed Philip to believe the pair had been discovered, that their conversations had been over heard by gossiping servants. The Lord knew there were enough of those in the house to give his explanation weight. Philip stared, he continued to shuffle in his seat and a red flush crept along his neck to his cheeks.

"They were lying," he whispered, grasping at straws. William snorted, he'd known this last was coming, that Philip would try to deny the affair, and he was already prepared to counter him.

"I saw you myself, old boy. Several times in fact. When I was on my way to Margie's room in the small hours - I saw you making your way to Miss Harpers," he rattled off these lies with a completely straight face, with no fear of being caught out, for he knew everything he was stating was true, as told to him by Margaret.

"You saw! And you never said! Why would you permit the affair then, if you knew of it all along?" Philip spat. His question was as good as a confession - if William had needed further convincing, then this would have served well.

"Because I knew Miss Harper to be a consenting adult and I chose to let it continue," William explained, still lying through his teeth. He would never have allowed it to begin in the first place, had he known back when Philip had been trying it on. Another thing to lay at Margaret's feet - for she had known all along! The girl could have been ruined, because - yet again - Margaret did not protect her! It was far worse than the time he had discovered Margaret, and Mary Thompson, drunk on the balcony. Mary had been in Margaret's care that day too! "If I had known you had intentions toward my sister, then believe me Sir, I would not have!"

"This is madness!" Philip cried. His eyes darted, his breathing became laboured. Finally he stabbed an accusing finger at William. "You are no better! You've had mistresses aplenty! The product of one of those liaisons has shown up on your wife's doorstep!" He lurched to his feet and began to pace, fury and frustration in every line of his body.

"A fate I wish to avoid for Ellie," William said, remaining calm, remaining seated as he gazed up at the raging Philip over steepled fingers.

"It's over between Maisy and I!" Philip snapped. "It's done - she's married another man! I'll not continue on with her, if that's what you're afraid of!"

"There is, however, the matter of the child…" William's tone insinuated

Paul stopped dead, his face draining of colour.

"Come now," William scoffed. "Did you really think no one would notice? Margaret knew weeks ago. Maisy's been sick - showing all the symptoms that Margaret believed signalled a pregnancy. I made a few enquiries and discovered that Miss Harper - or Mrs. Binnings if you prefer - has missed at least one of her bleedings. Maids are quite handy for that sort of information, don't you know?"

"I do know," Philip ground out.

"Do you deny knowledge of the child?" William challenged as Philip began to pace again.

"I do not," he spat. "I know of the child. But what of it? You've got a bastard too, William! I don't see how it makes a difference!"

"It makes a difference, Philip, because you wish to marry my sister," William paused, letting the words sink in. "Would you have allowed me to marry one of your sisters, had you known I had a bastard?"

"No I would not," Philip tightened his lips, frustration almost over whelming him. "William, I love Eleanor."

"That is neither here not there," William said, not budging an inch. "Tell me, Philip. How did Maisy come to marry Binnings so quickly? She was sharing your bed up until a week ago - a fact I know so do not try to deny it - but all of a sudden, she's married to Cornet Binnings. How did that happen?" William already knew the truth, Margaret had informed him of it. He was testing Bordon now, wanting to see if the Major would admit to to his part in Maisy and Binnings quick wedding.

"I ended our affair the day your sister arrived," Bordon lied, straight faced. "I suspect Maisy panicked, knowing that she was pregnant. She must have realised she was on the verge of ruin, and so she sought out Binnings - who she knew would marry her. Perhaps she seduced him and he married her because he is honourable."

"I see. That's very… well thought out reasoning," William mused, letting Philip know he doubted the explanation. "And you arrived at that conclusion so quickly too."

"What are you implying?" Philip snapped.

"Maisy is not the type of woman to use a man so horribly," William shrugged. "I wonder if you had a part to play in her decision to 'seduce' Binnings." He said this, knowing fully well that Philip had done exactly that.

"Not at all," Philip lied.

"I see. And the last time you laid with Mrs. Binnings?"

"I told you, I ended our affair the day your sister arrived. I would not disrespect Ellie by continuing on with Maisy. I love her too much for that!"

William was on his feet, surging upward to grab Bordon's jacket and haul him back, shoving him hard up against the wall.

"You damned liar," he hissed, nose to nose, "I know you fucked her in this very room, after my sister arrived!" He gave Bordon a hard shake, then released him and strode away, his shoulders set and his back ramrod straight.

"You are remarkably well informed," working his jaw, Philip tugged sharply at his skewed jacket to tidy himself.

"I told you, these walls have ears," William snapped over his shoulder.

Philip drew himself up to full height. As William turned back to face him, with one arm looped behind his back and his head held high, Philip began to pace, striding away several steps before turning back to face William. Gathering his poise, he challenged, "will you give me your blessing to marry Miss Tavington."

"I will not," William stated, his words crisp and clear.

Philip was barely managing to keep himself in check. With fury firing through him, he longed to smack his fist into William's face. Damned hypocrite! How many affairs had that bastard had? And yet he denies Philip, for doing the same?

"You'll never find anyone higher than me, William. Not for Ellie. Surely you must know that?"

William frowned, hearing a veiled insult in those words. "What are you trying to say?"

"Jesus, William!" Philip threw his arms wide and barked a bitter laugh. "I'm the son of a Baron! I'm a Nobleman! My line is impeccable! But you - what are you? Lord, William! You are the son of John the Lothlorio! Your father was nothing more than a wealthy merchant and before he was dead, he'd gambled away his entire fortune. He screwed other women and sunk your family to the brink of ruin! And you refuse me for Ellie? You! You must realise that you will not find another son so highly born to take your sister off your hands!"

William jerked his arm back and slammed his fist into Philip's jaw. Philip's head snapped back, pain exploding all along the right side of his face. He stared in shock at William, who seemed ready to throw another.

"I would not allow a debaucher near my sister, nobleman or not!" He bellowed, his fist curling at his side, his chest heaving as he panted through his rage. When Philip remained quiet, he continued, in a softer but still fury filled voice, "you should not have shoved Maisy into Binnings' arms! She is carrying your child, you should have done the right thing! If it's a wife you desired so badly, you should have married her, rather than prey on my innocent sister!"

Philip lifted his chin and curled his lip. Despite the pain flaring across his face, he said bravely, disdainfully, "You may have been prepared to marry so far beneath you, but I Sir, am not!"

"Jesus," William breathed, feeling the insult to his wife keenly. "Are you asking me to beat the life from you?"

Philip glared, but kept his mouth wisely shut. Beginning to pace again, he swallowed the blood pooling in his mouth from the inside of his cut cheek. A bruise was forming along his jaw, he could feel it already. Breathing heavily, he whirled back to William, one last time.

"You will not allow me to marry Eleanor. This is your final word?" He said finally.

"It is. And, you should know, in case you have delusions of elopement, that it is also Eleanor's final word." William folded his arms across his chest.

"What?" Philip gasped, his rage draining from him, replaced by anguish. "Ellie does not wish to marry me?"

"When she learned of your affair, she asked me to break your betrothal, for she did not have the stomach to look at you."

Philip reeled, overcome with utter shock and distress. William's eyes were locked on his, and after several long moments, Philip turned wordlessly on his heel and strode from the chamber, slamming the door shut behind him.

William stormed from the office. Not long later, he heard the rush of hooves leave the courtyard and he knew Bordon had left the house. Where he went, William did not care. He took the steps two at a time, until he was pushing his way into the parlour. Word of his meeting with Bordon had spread, it seemed, for here were gathered the women of his family, with the addition of Jane and Maggie. Jane and Rose sat opposite Eleanor. Margaret sat at Eleanor's side, rubbing Ellie's back. Eleanor clutched a handkerchief in her fingers and she gazed up at him with moist eyes.

To her, he said, "it is done."

"Oh, God," she whispered, dropping her face into her hands. Rose moved to her other side immediately and between her and Margaret, the two women began comforting her. "What did he say?" Eleanor whispered, peering up at William over the tips of her fingers.

"Nothing good," he replied, sparing a glance at his wife, noting how tenderly she was treating Eleanor. "He is upset, naturally. But he knows that your engagement is broken. And he knows better than to continue pursuing you in the hope of elopement, for I told him the truth - that the request to end the engagement came from you."

"Oh… Oh, God. Oh, Mamma, have I done the right thing?" The girl wailed.

William snorted as he poured himself a well deserved whiskey. Rose began reassuring her daughter that yes, she'd done the right thing.

"And if you hadn't, I would have," William ground out, throwing his glass back in one swallow.

"I know, it's just… Oh God, I…" Eleanor gave way to her weeping, Rose pulled her against her chest, her hands caressing her back soothingly while Margaret and Jane watched on with concern.

"Ellie," William said gently as he stood before her, his fingers guiding her face up to look at him. He cupped her chin with his strong hands. "I vow it, you will meet someone else. Someone more far worthy. He will treat you well. He will not take a mistress. He will love you as you deserve. You are young. You are beautiful. This, my sweet sister, is not the end of the world."

"It feels like it is," she wept, shuddering.

"Believe me, it's not," Margaret said to Eleanor. "You must know I was engaged once before? I was deeply in love with Alexander but he was taken from me far too soon. He died of the pox. But I survived and I'm now…" she glanced up at William, whose eyes widened as his met hers. He saw her uncertainty, could hear what she could not bring herself to say. The unspoken words, 'I survived and I'm now happily married.' He stared down at her, shocked that she could not bring herself to say those words. Pulling her gaze away, she began stroking Eleanor's back again, determined to soothe her. Eleanor was waiting, hoping for some epiphany from Margaret that would help lessen the pain. In a weak voice, Margaret whispered, "you are young, you are beautiful, you are kind and accomplished and funny! What man could resist falling in love with you? But first, before that can happen, you must go through this heartache first, for no promises of the future will give you any comfort at all. You'll grieve and each day will be horrid, until one day the pain… is less. And each day will get better from there, of that I can promise you."

No more assurances that she will be happy with someone else, once the heartache of losing Bordon was over. For Margaret, in her unhappy marriage, could not bring herself to promise any such thing. This was not lost on William, who could barely believe it. She was the cause of their failing marriage, not he!

"You are in good hands, Ellie," He said harshly. To Margaret, he gave her a cold reminder of her part in their troubles, "I'm going to pay a call on Mrs. Mason, to see how the Lieutenant faired through the night. I've not heard a report that he has died, so that is good news, I hope."

Margaret's lips tightened, but she lowered her eyes as he turned his back on her. She did still feel wretched over her friend's condition, and knowing that she had had a hand in it, in some small, roundabout way, made it so much the worse. But even now, anger still burned in the pit of her stomach, for she knew damned well that her husband had just used the knowledge of her deep guilt and grief as a weapon against her.

"William," Rose whispered, exasperated, but he did not turn, and when the door slammed shut behind him, she lamented to Jane, "can't he get past this? Damned stubborn fool of a man."

"If it wasn't the Ghost, it would have been someone else," Jane tossed her head as Rose offered Margaret a small smile over Eleanor's head. "There's three others, isn't there? This Dickens fellow, and Samer? And Marion?"

"Sumpter and Pickens," Margaret corrected absently.

"And there are brigands as well, or perhaps our dear William has not been reading the broadsheets, or the reports from head quarters. You'd think that Mr. Martin was the only rebel leader in the field!" Jane harrumphed.

"My, you're learning a bit about war, aren't you?" Rose laughed softly at Jane. "You even speak like a soldier. Reports and head quarters and leaders in the field, indeed!" She glanced down at Ellie while she said it, speaking with forced cheer in the hopes of brightening her daughter.

"I used to listen to our uncles stories, even though you showed no interest," Jane said tartly. "Our uncle was in the navy," she explained to Margaret. "So I do know a thing of two about war. And I know that while it would have been better to secure Martin while we had the chance," she said this lightly, with no accusation in her voice, "that he is not the be all and end all of this campaign."

"Thank you," Margaret sighed, feeling relief that the women, at least, were not wroth with her. "Be that as it may, William is right about one thing. Every single Loyalist in Charlestown will be turned against me, if they discover that I helped Ben and Gabriel free."

"They will not find out," Rose said firmly. "William was out early this morning, I believe he was seeing to it."

"I worry for you two, I do," Jane said passionately.

"Let's not worry about William and I," Margaret shrugged, not really willing to discuss her own troubles. "It's Ellie who needs us now."

"So she does. A nice long brisk walk, I think," Rose suggested.

"Oh, I was going to suggest a nice tall refreshing glass of wine," Margaret said, smiling weakly. "Or perhaps ten."

"You, Mrs. Tavington, are not going to get my daughter drunk," Rose said tartly. "That's how a man deals with a broken heart - not a woman."

"Pity," she lowered her voice for Ellie, though Rose still heard her. "I'll slip you a thimble or two later. You'll feel much better for it."

Rose sniffed, pretending outrage. The women were trying to keep the mood light, in the hope that Eleanor would not drop too deeply into despair. It was not working, for Eleanor was deathly quiet and decidedly pale and her legs were weak when the other women pulled her to her feet.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Here," James handed Bordon a tall glass of whiskey. "You look like you can use it."

"Thank you," Philip took the glass and knocked it back in one gulp. James laughed and poured another.

"I suspect this bottle will not last us long," he poured for himself too, then took a seat across from the Major. It had been quite a shock when Bordon strode into James' parlour, his face looking like death itself. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I was loosely, secretly, engaged to Colonel Tavington's sister," Philip growled, his words short and clipped. "But I've been screwing a pretty little lass these last months. The girl is pregnant with my child. My affair was discovered. Ellie asked Tavington to end our engagement. He did so. End of story."

"Jesus," James breathed. "Is that nice blue patch on your jaw there curtesy of Tavington then?"

"Yeh. I told him he won't find another as high born as me to marry his sister. For Christ's sake - their father was the most scandalous man in London! Why do you think William's here? He's been trying to salvage what he can of his families honour! You'd think he'd be grateful that I was willing to take Eleanor, even with getting the other girl pregnant. It's not like he's any better. He's fucked his way through the fair nymphs of this isle since the first day we arrived! And to top it off, when his family arrived, they had in their company William's bastard son that no one knew about! He's got a damned nerve, I'll tell you that!"

"Woah!" James cried. "Back up there, Major. What was that about a bastard?"

There was no help for it, Bordon had to divulge all of it. The only thing he cared enough to do, was to keep Maisy's name out of it. The unfolding of the story had James whistling with astonishment and roaring with laughter by turns. Finally, he settled down, for Bordon was confiding what had been discussed between himself and Tavington, and although Bordon was trying to hide it, James could sense the other man's anguish. The time for amusement over this tale of woe had come to an abrupt end.

"She's the one who ended it," Philip said morosely while staring into his fourth glass of whiskey. "Ellie herself. She told William that she didn't have to stomach to look at me."

"I'm sorry, my brother," James sighed heavily.

"How did you get through it, losing Margaret?"

"I drank heavily and sank my dick into so many doxies, I soon lost count," James replied without hesitation. "And I had Celeste brought up from the camp as well. She lives here now, until we leave Charlestown. And then she'll be coming with me."

"Take a mistress, hmm?" Philip said, weaving on the chair as he thought of his own mistress, Maisy. He was discovering just how much he missed her, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into her comforting embrace. "That idea has potential…"

"Worked for me," James tried for nonchalance. "I barely think of that damned bitch now."

"Jesus, don't let Tavington hear you insult his wife," Bordon said bitterly. "I almost got another hiding when I did it! He threatened to kill me, or near enough as to make no difference!"

"You insulted Margaret!" James barked a laugh. "You damned fool! What did you do that for? What did you say?"

"I told him he'd married beneath him," Philip said, taking some heart from James' amusement.

"You didn't!" Wilkins laughed, but he did feel mildly outraged at the same time, for Margaret was of the same echelon as James himself. Still, he could understand, for he had respect for the English Peerage and knew that Philip was one of them. Why wouldn't he show some arrogance about his breeding? James certainly showed enough arrogance, where his wealth and standing in Colonial Society was concerned. He chose not to take offence, and began to laugh all the harder as he imagined the look on Tavington's face. "I'm surprised your nose wasn't broken!"

"Damned bastard," Philip sighed, leaning back into the chair and closing his eyes. He opened one eye, peeking at James. "Doxies, hmm? I can't take them back to Mrs. Tavingtons…"

"Then we shall bring them here!" James declared.

"What of Celeste?"

"I will share her with you - she'll enjoy that very much. She's quite adventuress and she's got an appetite, she has, and some strange tastes. I've never seen one woman kneel in front of another's quim, but Celeste will do it again and again, as long as I'm watching her do it. She likes it so much the cream drips down the inside of her thighs. God, I enter her nice and easy when she's licking another woman's juices."

"Well I'll be damned, that's a sight I'd like to see!" Bordon was on his feet, stumbling drunkenly. "Come, there's not a moment to waste!"

James chuckled, drank back his final whiskey, and the two Officers - followed by a guard of ten soldiers, left his home to begin a rampage across the city the like of which had never been witnessed in Charlestown before.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

It was the same as the night before, Margaret sat in her shift at her dresser as Sarah pulled the pins from her hair. Tavington was more patient this time, his need to be with Margaret had been filled the night before. As he watched, Sarah began to ran a brush through Margaret's hair and he counted the strokes - exactly one hundred - and when the maid was finished, Margaret's locks gleamed golden in the candlelight. The two had avoided one another for the entire day after their argument in the parlour. Margaret was stiff now, her face again flushed with cold fury. He wondered for a moment if she would refuse him.

And he wondered what he would do about it, if she did.

"Thank you Sarah, that will be all," Margaret said as she rose from her chair and walked quietly across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. William followed her in silence and when he reached the bed he stood before her, the same as he had the night before. Without saying a word, Margaret untied the drawstring and drew down his drawers, and a thrill of excitement, and triumph, shot through him. He gazed down at her, his lips quirked in a small smile of elation and pleasure as she began to gratify him.

Margaret was pleased his member was already hard, she would not have to pleasure him for long before he reached completion. This evening, she took no enjoyment whatsoever from the encounter, not after the previous evenings exploits which had left her feeling less than a whore. Some husbands treated their wives as though they were little more than slaves or indentured servants, she knew, but Margaret had never dreamed in a million years that William would be one of those.

I can't do this again, she thought as her lips began to move up and down his erection. Tomorrow, I will leave for the plantation. I guess it was a damned good thing that he purchased it after all. I have somewhere to escape to. Perhaps Eleanor will come with me. It will be good to get her away from Bordon…

All the while she thought this, her tongue continued to swirl around his cock and her hands tugged him, squeezing gently. She could hear his breathing, steady at first and now ragged with pleasure. He kept his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into fists, then relaxing, curling again, relaxing. He did not touch her head or her hair, he was not being intimate with her at all. Just as she thought - he would treat her as a whore again. But tonight would be the last night, for tomorrow she would retreat to the plantation and he could get a whore in truth to attend to his needs.

After last night, she knew any intimacy he deigned to bestow her would be a parody and she simply did not want it. Margaret increased the speed and pressure of her suckling, her lips encircling his cock in a tight ring as her tongue lapped him. Tavington began to moan above her and he rolled his pelvis more insistently now, back and forth quickly, indicating for her to go faster. Margaret gripped the base of his phallus in a firm fist and began sucking him harder in the hope that he would climax quickly and leave. She wanted this over with, before he had a chance to cover her with his body and use her, to fuck her for his own needs before leaving her.

"Lay back," William moaned, pulling his shaft from her mouth. Margaret stifled a vexed sigh. Dutifully, for that was all this was to her now - a duty - she shuffled back onto the bed, on her back, her legs wide, waiting for him to mount her. At least he would be quick now, she thought, for he was primed from fellatio. William moved onto the bed between her legs, his cock jutting out proudly from his body. He planted his fists to either side of her head and braced himself on his corded arms. His hair was still damp from his bath and it framed his face in dark stringy locks. Margaret glanced up at him and saw his face was flushed from the pleasure she had given him. The sight did not stir her in the slightest, not as it had in days gone past. He lowered his pelvis to hers, the tip of his phallus searching for her entrance.

"Guide me inside you," he commanded raggedly and Margaret reached between their bodies to grip his length and angle it toward her quim. He pushed forward, expecting an easy, moist passage, but was stopped abruptly, his helmet butting against her dry canal. Glaring down at her, he snapped, "you're not ready for me!" He had only been able to put his tip inside her, Margaret's lack of moisture making it hard for him to slide in further.

"And why would I be? I won't get any enjoyment from this, not after last night," she locked her eyes on his. "You want full compliance? You've got it." She kept her hands to either side of her head, making a point of not touching him intimately. "Go ahead, husband. Enjoy yourself."

William was quiet for a moment as he gazed down at her. After a moment, he said softly, "I want you to enjoy it too, like you did last night."

"I only got pleasure from that because I took care of myself," she snapped, her eyes narrowed as she glared up at him. "You did not even kiss me and you left straight after! If I have that to look forward to every night, then how could I possibly enjoy this?" She arched an eyebrow. He stared down at her gravely and when he made no response, she cocked her head to one said and continued in a mocking voice, "would you like me to pretend? I hear that's what whores do. They spit on their fingers to smooth the way, and then they moan and scream, putting on an act for the money their given… Would you like me to play the doxy?"

"No," he glared, outraged. "Don't be stupid - you're my wife!"

"Then start treating me like one!" She shot back. "If you want me to enjoy it, then give me some bloody enticement! Otherwise, just hurry the hell up and be done with it!" She rolled her pelvis upward against his member in a grotesque display of encouragement.

By now, William was too flaccid to continue. He considered doing as she suggested, to give her some enticement, for it was beginning to weigh heavily on him, the troubles between them. He had always managed to arouse her easily and had relished it when she thrashed and moaned for him. But he suspected that after their words, her body would not respond no matter what he did. And he felt that way himself, now. The arousal she'd drawn from him was all gone now, the moment was lost. Jerking back from her, he dressed quickly - in silence - and stalked from the bed chamber.

We are stuck with each other, and we will never be happy again. Margaret despaired as she crawled beneath the covers and curled onto her side.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Reply to Guest: Thank you for the review - though I'm sorry to wound your pride with the previous chapter :-) Women were strong back then - a few went off to fight in the war, dressed as men. Others fought for what they needed back home, on their farms. They lived during a time of war, they tried hard to protect their family and their homes, they worked day and night while their husbands were off fighting. So yeah, they were strong, but it was different. It wasn't so much that the women only lived for men, it was more that the laws which governed society were all in the man's favour. I suppose if a woman had a good husband who enjoyed having a strong wife, then that was all okay, but if a woman had a complete bastard for a husband, then there was not much she could do. He was allowed to beat her - I think some judge at one point specified, with a stick no thicker than his thumb. That was ALLOWED, as nuts as that sounds to us in the now. Divorce was not so readily obtainable as it is now, I've addressed that a bit in this chapter. And it was quite a scandal to divorce - a woman (I believe) would have found it almost impossible to marry again and probably would not be welcome amongst her friends. Anything that was outside the 'norm' and 'acceptable' was considered a 'taint' and people (even other women) didn't want to have that sort of taint around them. Margaret does have an out though, she can live separately from William, but he would have to agree to it... Margaret is still a very strong character, but consider all she's been through lately. She's taking knock after knock, and that can wear a person down. She has no blood relatives of her own to support her, and she's only just finding common ground with her new relatives, Rose, etc. Even the strongest woman can't be so all of the time. I do try to write well rounded characters, with weaknesses as well. She's still her, though, and I hope you saw some of her strengths come through in this chapter. Now, when you ask "how long does Tav plan to treat her this way", I just wanted to say that timeline wise, he only discovered YESTERDAY about her helping Ben and Gabriel leave Charlestown. It might seem like longer because of the long wait between chapters. I think that even the most reasonable man would be pissed off for a few days yet. My husband used to carry a grudge for bloody days, back when we were younger, until I trained that out of him! Haha!

To KD: Haha, it's funny you should call Tav a hypocrite, when Bordon is thinking exactly that in this chapter. Not that Bordon is any better... Anyway, I like how you put that, about Tav being willing to do anything for his family, yet not seeming to understand why Margaret would not wish to do the same. At the moment, he's too angry to see their argument from any other perspective than his own. Yes, I agree with you, if Tav would continue using Margaret like that, then it would be best to separate - which I've touched on in this chapter. I didn't think it would be particularly popular with the readers, Tav coming to Margaret and using her like that :-). Still, it's just another stepping stone in the story. It shocked Margaret because she didn't know it was coming, but now that she knew to expect it, she's started making plans to leave. And in the end, Tavington was unable to 'perform', when he realised that Margaret was not going to get enjoyment out of it. He'll start 'thinking' about things now, rather than just acting, and the introspection will cause a gradual shift... I won't say more than that just now. :-) Thanks for reviewing, I appreciate it!