An Impromptu Ball

One of Henrietta's servants knocked on the door to inform Beth her bath was ready. Despite their offers to join her, the Officers went their own way - to check on the men encamped on the Plantation grounds and to take stock of Henrietta's stores of food. Her dirt soiled body turned the water a ruddy brown almost instantly, nevertheless, Beth luxuriated in the bath until the water was almost cold. Only then did she climb out of the tub. After she dried herself, a servant helped her to dress and fix her hair. It was a very different woman who walked through the manor toward the parlor - one fresh and clean, the beautiful, borrowed dresses transforming her back into the young lady she was. As she climbed down the broad stairs, she began to hear music - a harp accompanying the pianoforte. When she stepped into the parlor, she blinked with astonishment.

The chamber was awash with light, every candle in the wall sconces and candelabras blazing. The furnishings had been pushed against the walls to make a small dance floor and two Officers of Tarleton's Dragoons played the instruments for all they were worth while. More Officers - and several women - danced in the centre of the room. The Little Man was screaming and chattering, jumping from the tops of the furniture and bouncing with excitement, while yet more of Tarleton's Officers with their young ladies snuggled on the settees and chaise loungers against the wall.

Banastre, seeing that Beth had arrived and was standing in the doorway uncertainly, came forward with a welcoming smile, his hand extended, and when he stopped before her he offered her a flourishing bow.

"My Lady," he greeted with his warm, charming smile. "You promised me four dances, I believe."

"I did?" She asked breathlessly as she took his proffered hand and allowed herself to be led deeper into the room. She glanced nervously at the other women, uncertain of her welcome amongst them, for she was a stranger and an outcast. They gazed back with polite curiosity, some even smiled at her - there was no animosity or judgement from these and Beth finally began to relax.

"Alas, you did. But I was called away to deal with that rabble in New York and was never able to claim them from you," he declared. "And so we shall have a ball, right now, this very night and you shall give me those promised dances."

"Oh, you're speaking of the Simms Ball!" Beth laughed. "But that was so long ago!"

"Ah, but a debt is a debt, a promise is a promise," he informed her. Banastre led her amongst the women, who in themselves were a surprise to Beth. She was not certain what she expected to make of camp followers but these well dressed and respectful seeming women did not fit her preconceptions. Then again, as she discovered when the introductions were made, each one of these were Officer's wives and widows.

The dancing got underway, with Banastre claiming far more than his four sets. Their impromptu ball was interrupted for as long as it took to dine on the feast which had been prepared for Burwell, before retiring to the parlor for more dancing. Beth was not certain who opened Henrietta's fine wines - but she soon lost count of how many she consumed throughout the course of the evening. Before long, her cheeks were rosy and flushed, from dancing, from the wine, the warmth of the room and the warmth of Banastre's gazes.

Henrietta did not join them - for the dancing, not even for dinner. She dined in her rooms and did not come out for the entire evening. Initially, Beth was conscious of the servants attending the Officers and their wives, knowing that each detail would be reported to Henrietta. She tried - at first - to not show too much excitement or to be seen enjoying herself overly much, but with company such as Banastre's, and with the constant flood of wine, it was all but impossible. His efforts to throw her a ball to lift her spirits were not wasted. His charming ways, his flirtatious manner, all of it went a long way to pull her out of the deep emotional mire she had been in and when it came time for the Officers and their wives to retire for the evening, Beth found she did not want the night to end. She was not the only one to voice her objections - two of the other Officer's wives pouted and fussed, they joined forces with Beth in an attempt to keep the party alive and going.

But despite the women's laughing protests, the musicians stopped playing, the wine stopped flowing and the men stopped dancing. Banastre commanded the servants to begin cleaning the room, even as he put his arms around Beth's waist from behind, to guide her up the stairs to her own room. And she certainly needed his support to climb the stairs, for the wine had addled her wits and her head was spinning. She giggled as she stumbled up the stairs with his help, for just behind her, one of the other Officers had picked up his laughing wife and thrown her over his shoulder.

"Let's race!" He said to Banastre as he trotted up the stairs past, as he bore his wife's dangling weight.

"Don't you dare!" Beth rounded on Banastre, who arched an eyebrow a little too innocently. The Officer rounded the landing and continued on up. When Beth stumbled, Banastre tightened his hold on her waist and continued guiding her. She was enjoying the flushed and warm feeling the wine gave her, though when she reached the landing, she had to stop and lean against the wall for a moment.

Banastre stopped with her, standing in front of her now, still with his hands on her waist.

"Are you unwell?" He asked in concern as other Officers filed past him, seeking their rooms.

"No, I'm exceptionally well, thanks to you," she murmured, her warm brown eyes gazing drunkenly up into his. "You threw me my own ball!"

"That I did," his gaze became hooded as he stared down at her face, her features flushed and her eyes bright from the wine. "As I said, you promised me four dances."

"You got more than four," she cocked her head to one side as she tried to recall how many dances they shared. "I think… I've lost count."

"I've lost count of how many glasses of wine you drank," he laughed as he wrapped one arm around her waist to continue helping her along the corridor. "Perhaps two bottles all to yourself, judging by how soused you are."

"I'm not soused," she pouted. Just then, she tripped and he grabbed her, tightening his hold.

"No, you're not soused at all," he scoffed.

Up ahead, the Officer who was carrying his wife over his shoulder disappeared into his chamber, he kicked the door shut, muffling his wife's laughter. Hanger - with his arm around a young woman - one of the widows who still travelled with the Legion - stepped into the room next door to Beth's with the Little Man riding on his shoulder.

Once at Beth's door, Banastre stopped their progress and gazed down at her.

"Did you enjoy your evening, my dear?" he asked, his brown eyes alight and a warm smile on his lips.

"I did," she replied seriously, her words slightly slurred as she leaned against the door frame with a sigh. "Thank you, Ban. I haven't had so much fun in… Well, I've forgotten to be honest. It's been a long time."

"Probably since before I left Charles Town," he quipped. "I dare say you've been quite forlorn in my absence."

"I dare say you're quite right," Beth smiled, somewhat sadly. She wondered now how different her life would have been if Banastre had been in Charles Town to attend the Simms ball - she doubted he would have let Tavington steal away with her at all, let alone twice. As wonderful as her time with William had been, she was ruined now because of it. If Banastre had been present, none of that would have happened and she would not be suffering the censure of the entire Pembroke community.

"You might as well have bedded him, Beth," Henrietta's words came to her now as Banastre reached up to stroke his fingers along her cheek. "You might as well have lost your virginity for how ruined you are now."

"Good night, Beth," he murmured. "You sleep well."

He took a step back from her and Beth panicked. She could not imagine him retiring to the room next to hers, sleeping in the large bed, all alone as she slept, equally lonely, in hers. Not after spending such a delightful evening in one another's company. She couldn't imagine it - the thought of being alone now left her feeling wretched. And then another, equally distressing thought occurred to her, that perhaps Banastre would not sleep alone that night after all. He would summon that camp follower of his - the woman Beth had encountered in the tent earlier that day, the one which Banastre had admitted was his lover. She swallowed hard against a stab of jealousy. He would bed that woman, while Beth laid in the bed in the chamber next to his - all alone. Every Officer had a woman with them just then - even Hanger. And Beth had no one.

With the warmth of the wine spreading through her, Beth wound her fingers through Banastre's cravat and tugged him forward. Laughing at his astonished expression, she pulled at his cravat until he stepped into her chamber. Banastre did not have to be told twice. He closed the door behind him and turned to face her. Beth reached past him, around his body, to turn the key - locking her door as Henrietta had advised she do earlier that evening. Of course, Henrietta's intention had been for Beth to lock the Redcoats out of the chamber, not lock an Officer in the room with her.

And then she lifted her gaze to his and she gnawed at her bottom lip, suddenly unsure how to proceed. She had been quite forward, pulling him into her room, but from here she was at a loss. He gazed back at her steadily, a little uncertain himself, neither knowing quite how far the other wished to go. Banastre reached up and traced the backs of his fingers across her cheeks again.

"Are you certain, Sweet Beth? You've had so much to drink tonight…" he murmured, his brown eyes warm on hers.

Though she leaned into his touch, she hesitated. Her virginity, once it was gone, could never be reclaimed. And George would know, Henrietta had warned. They'd have one Hell of a marriage, Henrietta had warned.

"I just want to feel your arms around me," she whispered up at him, her eyes imploring.

"I think I can do that," he murmured back.

Both understood the boundaries Beth had drawn, Banastre was not to take her virginity but he would be doing a damned sight more than 'holding' her in her bed.

And then Beth waited, for she was not about to throw herself at him, she had already been far too forward! Banastre took charge from there, he pulled her into his arms, his hands cupping her face as he leaned down to kiss her. His breath caught as his lips moved over hers, he swallowed hard as he edged her backward, and laid her down on the bed.

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

"Hmm, that feels nice," Beth smiled wistfully. She lay reclined back on the pile of pillows, with Banastre alongside of her. His lips moved over her neck, drifting along her skin softly. He was braced on one arm, with his free hand circling her stomach over her bodice. Beth's arm was curled beneath his head and her fingers caressed his nape beneath his queue.

He lifted himself to smile down at her.

"It feels good, having you in my arms," he whispered.

"Being in my bed…" Beth replied softly. Her expression grew serious and she withdrew her arm from his neck and ran both her hands down his chest over his green coat. "So many belts… Can I start unbuckling them?"

Her fingers already began the task as she held his eyes and he gulped, nodding firmly.

"Please do," he murmured thickly. His cock was aching - utterly aching - in his breeches and he couldn't wait to move things along, sensing she might be willing to pleasure him with her soft hand. Perhaps she would be willing to do even more - perhaps he could coax her into pleasuring him with her mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed, his face going slack with pleasure at the mere thought.

"What are you thinking, Ban?" She asked him, amused to see such a blissful expression cross his features. It could not be caused by her hands moving over his chest as she unclasped his buckles - that was hardly enough to inspire such a gratified look. No - he was imagining something - he was imagining doing something with her - she just knew it. His buckles undone, she pulled the first away from his body and dropped it to the floor, and the second from his waist, dropping that also. Both clattered as they hit the thick carpet.

"I merely enjoy being here with you, my sweet," he said - which was the truth but not the whole of it. He could hardly admit that he wanted to feel her lips on his member, however.

"Me too," she murmured. Her fingers moved over the buttons of his coat now and when it was completely undone, she pulled the sides apart and began edging it off his shoulders. "Help me?"

"Of course," he said thickly, barely able to form the words as he moved to a more upright position. He removed his jacket, this was deposited with his belts. Beth began untying his cravat and when it was free of his neck, she idly traced his neck and shoulders - her fingers disappearing beneath the material of his shirt. She watched her own progress intently, while he watched her, just as intent. Sitting up, Beth began to tug the bottom of his shirt free of his breeches, guiding it as he pulled his arms from the sleeves. She sat up tall to pull it off over his head.

"On the floor?" She smiled at him mischievously, then dropped his shirt to the floor. He was about to answer with some witty remark or other but thought fled as her fingers began to explore his bare chest. He swallowed hard and glanced down at her hand, which was moving over his hard muscles, the dips and rises of his chest, causing him to shudder. Her fingers quivered slightly when they reached his nipples, which she circled slowly, fascinated.

"I hope you'll let me do that to you," he quipped as little shivers shot through him. When he spoke, his voice was thick, heavy and grainy with need.

"Perhaps…" She swallowed, too embarrassed to admit that she wanted to feel him touch her breasts, to circle her nipples as she was doing to him now.

"Perhaps..?" He prompted softly, daring to hope.

"Perhaps," she said only. A smile flared across his face and Beth knew he would try and do it - she did not need to embarrass herself by saying the words. His smile was one of contentment, also. Beth laughed and shoved at him. "Smug, are we?"

"That I'm finally going to get to touch you, as I've longed to do for months now?" Banastre's smile broadened. "Hell, yes."

Holding her gaze with an expression that dared Beth to stop him, he reached up between them and began working on the laces of her bodice. She made no protest, she even glanced down to watch his progress. When she lifted her gaze, she saw his smug smile was gone, replaced with a consuming eagerness. With her bodice unlaced, Banastre edged the garment off her shoulders and she pulled her arms free of the sleeves.

"Turn around," he commanded thickly and Beth knew he wished to unlace her stays. She did so, shuffling around slightly and gathering her hair for him. His fingers worked deftly at the laces and with a heavy laden sigh, he leaned in to kiss her nape.

"Hmm," Beth sighed, leaning back in to him. His tongue traced soft skin, making her shiver. He kissed the nook - the hollow of her neck above her shoulder, as he pulled her stays away from her body and tossed it across the room. Still kissing her, with Beth still leaning in to him, he reached up to grip either side of her shift, and pulled both sides down her arms to reveal her slim shoulders. Again, she pulled her arms free as the garment slipped lower. His hands drifted up and down her bare arms, then his fingers returned to her shift, pulling it down further, down her chest, baring her breasts. He kept pushing it down until it pooled around her stomach, above the top of her skirt.

"Turn around," he commanded again, his voice breathless, thick, expectant. "Let me see."

Beth swallowed. She covered her breasts with her arms and her face blazed as she shuffled back around to face him. Meeting his eyes, he saw her nerves, her tension of being seen as naked as the day she was born.

"Lower your arms, Beth," Banastre said, holding her gaze. "Fair is fair, after all. You've seen me."

She laughed softly, both knew damned well it was hardly the same thing. Banastre took a hold of her arms, wrapping his fingers around her wrists gently, and guiding them from where she held them across her body. Beth lost her smile then. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, her heart pounding against her ribs like a hammer, but she made no protest. His indrawn breath, almost a hiss, caused her to open her eyes and watch him gravely.

His eyes were pinned on her breasts, on her two full globes, he stared at them as a man drowning. Or dying of thirst. He released her wrists and reached between their bodies, placing his hands on her, he began at her waist, gliding higher along her soft skin, higher until they were on either side of her ribs, inches away from her breasts. His eyes flickered up to meet hers, and he leaned in to kiss her lips gently, with a soft groan, before drawing away to stare at her bosom again. This time, when his hands began to move, it was inward, to cup her breasts. Beth sighed and closed her eyes as his thumbs traced her nipples, his hands kneading her softly. She felt him shift, and then felt his hot breath on her flesh a moment before feeling something warm and moist on her nipple.

"Mnnnn," she groaned and leaned in to him, arching her back like a cat as he suckled first one breast, then the other. "Oh…"

She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him against her.

"Your heart is pounding," he whispered, before circling his tongue around her nipple again. Shivers and jolts coursed through her entire body, emanating from that place under his tongue. Her entire body was flushed and hot - it was no surprise her heart was pounding.

"It feels wonderful," she whispered, her fingers moving over his queue, freeing the ribbon and shaking his auburn hair loose.

"Unbind your hair for me, Beth," he asked as he moved to her other breast again. She reached up to begin working on her pins and ties, finally letting her hair flow around her body. He raised his head then, sat back slightly to take in the sight of her, bared to her waist, her hair hair spilling over her shoulders to pool in her lap. She gazed back steadily, despite the coiling nerves at being half naked in front of him.

"You're a vision," he said honestly and she smiled up at him tremulously.

"You're not bad yourself," she quipped. Reaching up, she began exploring his chest again, and he did also, their fingers lightly moving over one another's dips and rises, over each others nipples, their explorations causing the other to shiver. He kissed her and drew back to gaze at her, then kissed her again, as they continued their tentative caressess.

"So smooth…" He said, speaking of the soft skin of her stomach.

"Yours isn't," her fingers traced over the many scars. "Banastre - did you get any of these from… From… Burwell?" She asked softly, not meeting his gaze. Burwell had fought Tavington, she knew, and the two had scarred one another. She needed to know if Banastre had fought with Harry also.

"This one, in a skirmish before Charles Town was surrendered" he pointed down to his side, just above his breeches, at a long line - still pink though it was healed. It was not old enough to have silvered. Beth sighed and, pulling her hair back from her face, she leaned in low to kiss the long scar. When she sat up again, she saw he was watching her gravely and somewhat puzzled. She herself didn't understand her actions, she just detested that the enemy Officers had fought one another.

"How about we rid you of these?" She asked him, her fingers looping in the tops of his breeches.

"Now you're talking," Banastre muttered. "Christ, I'm aching for you, Beth!" He said as he threw himself down to his back, lifted his buttocks and began clawing at his belt in his haste to be free, to feel her touch him.

"Wait! Slowly!" Beth admonished with a laugh as she wrapped her fingers around his wrists to pull his hands away. "Stop - I want to do it."

His breath caught and he stared up at her. He lay still - frozen - as her fingers began to work his belt buckle with agonising slowness. He gulped, his heart pounding, but he forced himself to slow down.

"You're quite correct," he whispered up at her. She was working his buttons now, freeing each one, her fingers inadvertently raking his cock. "Agh, Christ…"

He collapsed back against the pillows and closed his eyes, barely able to control his reaction to her. Or his anticipation.

"Slowly…" He muttered again, pushing himself up to one elbow, and reaching between them to caress her breasts as she continued working his buttons.

"Don't be a grouch," she laughed down at him. Those tingles were returning as his fingers tweaked and caressed her nipples and she closed her eyes and sighed. "Perhaps we could go faster…"

"No, you wanted slow," he teased her. "Slow is what you'll get."

She smirked. "Lift yourself, Ban."

He did so, lifting up at his hips, his rump clearing the bed and Beth began pulling and tugging his breeches down. He watched her carefully, for her eyes were pinned on his pelvis, and he wanted to see her reaction when she spied his manhood for the first time. It popped into view finally and Beth stared at it, swallowing hard, her pulse racing.

"This is what you do to me," he whispered huskily, speaking of his heavy erection. He was as hard as a rock, his thick cock straight rigid. She met his eyes then and smiled.

"I know," she teased smugly.

"Vixen!" Banastre laughed. "Are you going to finish what you've started - or are you going to stare at it all night?"

She returned her gaze to his member, to his dark patch of auburn curls, as she continued tugging his breeches down lower. She had to remove his boots before she could remove his breeches, but all three items were soon tossed to the floor in an untidy heap. He lay completely naked before her now, his eyes focused on her to see what she would do next. With her legs folded beneath her, she bit her lip as she traced her fingers along his bare thigh, over the coarse hairs there. Banastre waited patiently for her to work up enough courage to move higher again, to touch him where he most wanted to be touched. He reached up to stroke her hair from her face, his fingers working through her that golden wealth, caressing her shoulders and left arm, then back up to her shoulders and neck again.

Finally Beth moved her hand higher and Banastre sighed to feel her fingers begin to stroke him. She shot him an uncertain glance and he smiled up at her, encouraging her.

"It's perfect," he whispered, his hand still stroking her arm. Beth drew a deep breath and, returning her gaze to his member, wrapped her hand around his girth. "Agh, God," he whispered, arching up in her hand. "Tighter, my sweet. Agh…"

She tightened her fist and allowed him to stroke within her fingers, setting the pace as he panted and bucked - slowly.

"God, Beth," he lifted his head to watch. Beth took over then, moving her hand up and down his length. His seed was already seeping out of the tip, he doubted he would last long with her doing this…

"My turn," he said, not wanting it over too soon. His eyes were hot on her as he sat up and Beth licked her lips, understanding he wanted to remove her skirts and stockings. He leaned in to kiss her first, his hands cupping her face as she continued stroking his member. Banastre lowered his head to her shoulder to enjoy the feel of her warm, satin smooth fist working him. She turned her face to him and began kissing the side of his neck, picking up the pace of her strokes at the same time. Banastre groaned, her lips on his skin and her soft hand heightening his pleasure. He turned his face to meet her lips and the two kissed as he rocked his hips back and forth in her hand. Eventually he shook his head and drew away, curling his fingers around her wrist to pull her hand from him.

"You'll be the death of me. Lay back," he commanded her and Beth - her heart racing - obeyed him. She lay flat on her back, with Banastre now at her side, with his legs folded beneath him. Holding his hair out of the way, he leaned down to kiss her breasts again, his tongue tracing each nipple, while his fingers worked at tugging her skirts down. She lifted her pelvis up at his bidding and he reached under her to untie the laces of her skirts. She remained high - with her rump in the air - as he tugged them down past her hips, down her thighs. Only then did she lower her rump, lifting her ankles then so he could clear her skirts, petticoats and shift from her body. Before he could drown in the sight of her, he quickly removed her boots, and threw them across the room to land with a thud on the thick carpet.

And then he gazed down at her, at the whole of her. Her bared breasts, the curve of her stomach, the patch of dark blonde curls and then… He licked his lips, his heart pounding, and his fingers shook as touched her bare thigh. Beth sighed. With their reversed positions, she began doing as he did her earlier, reaching up to caress his shoulder and arm.

"You're so beautiful, Beth," he murmured. "May I?"

She frowned, unsure what he wanted, but then his hand was prising her left thigh to part and he was shifting his position, lifting her leg high as he did so. Still on his knees with his legs folded beneath him, he was now between her parted thighs.

"God," she blushed crimson and bit her lip, averting her gaze and squeezing her eyes shut. The room was blazing with candlelight, and she was utterly bared to him.

"What's wrong?" He smiled down at her, knowing full well what caused her distress, her nerves. "You're beautiful, and I want to see you." He suited his words by shuffling again, this time he was leaned forward above her, his face inches from her womanhood.

"Banastre," she squeaked as she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "I've just never… you know… I've never been… So naked in front of anyone before…"

Even with William in Arthur Simms bedchamber, she had been mostly dressed when he knelt between her legs as Banastre as doing now. But with Banastre, she was completely naked - with only her stockings, which did nothing to conceal her, ending at the tops of her thighs as they did.

"Good," he said flatly. "I don't want anyone else to see so much of you."

It made him wonder just how much she had done with Tavington that fateful night at the ball, if she had never been this bared to a man before! Despite her admission that she was still a virgin, he had still assumed that Tavington would have had the girl's clothes off to view her as Banastre himself was doing now. It left him feeling exultant, the understanding that perhaps he was about to do more with her than she had done with Tavington. He hoped that was the case, for he wanted to be the one to introduce her to the pleasures of the flesh.

"Just relax, my darling," he said as he leaned in closer to her.

"Oh, my God - I can feel your breath on me… There…" She swallowed hard and, when it became too much - his scrutinising of her womanhood - she began to close her legs.

"Uh-uh," he admonished and, placing his hands to either thigh, he pushed them apart again. "Just relax, I said. You'll be in heaven soon, I vow it."

"Oh," Beth did relax then, she melted beneath him, surrendering to his greater experience.

"You're glistening, you realise?" He said thickly, moving his hands from her thighs - stroking inward. His thumbs caressed the sensitive flesh at the tops of her thighs, before moving in further to her folds. "Glistening," he repeated, staring at her moisture, his voice thick and heavy. "Now I know I do the same to you as you do to me."

"What do you mean?" She whispered, then drew a sharp, pleasure filled breath as his thumbs began to stroke her folds gently.

"The moisture," he said, his eyes riveted to her folds, her bud, and lower, to her entrance. All of which was slick with a film of her musky scented cream. "Your arousal…"

"Oh," she murmured. "That feels so… Oh…"

His thumbs dipped lower, to her entrance. He couldn't get enough of looking at her, kneeling between her legs as he was, his face a mere inch from her womanhood. He prised her opening apart and allowed one thumb just inside her. Beth gasped and arched up against him, holding her breath.

"You like that, hmm?" He asked, amused by her reaction. He swallowed hard and removed his thumb from that achingly tight embrace, and leaned even closer to view her. He could see her maidenhead at her entrance and it made him exult. He might not be able to claim her virginity this evening, but he knew for certain now that she was a virgin. No one else had had her before him. He kissed her there, his lips moving over her, tasting her.

"Oh, God!" Beth cried, writhing beneath him and Banastre lifted his head to smile down at her.

"I've wanted to taste you for so long," he confided in a whisper.

"Oh, Ban… Please… I need… Oh…" Beth gasped. She sat up quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. "Please, my love," she whispered.

"Gladly," he said, then abruptly shoved her back to the pillows.

"Ban!" She laughed, his eagerness to indulge her taking some of the intensity from the moment.

He smiled as he settled between her thighs again. His cock was aching - so hard, so needful, seed seeping from him now - almost a steady stream, not just a mere droplet. But he ignored his own need, for pleasuring her would only heighten his own pleasure, make his own orgasm that much more intense. His thumbs prising her open again, he began to kiss her, his tongue tracing her folds and circling that hard gnarl, her clitoris. Beth arched up again, and her fingers reached down to twine through his hair.

"You taste every bit as divine as I'd imagined," he murmured, then he flicked his tongue across that ever hardening bundle. Around and over, around and over, his thumbs to either side of it, massaging her, heightening her pleasure. Beth writhed and panted beneath him, whispering her appreciation softly.

"Oh, Ban… Oh, it feels so good, oh please don't stop!"

As if he had any intention of it! He was lost to the sound of her noises, to her writhing beneath him and her taste and scent. He'd do this to her all night if he had any say in it! Beth was bucking up now, her pelvis rocking as she strained and strove toward orgasm.

"Oh, it's building," she whispered. "Lord… Not like anything I've felt… Ban.."

And then, with a rush of moisture leaking from her, she arched up and cried out, holding there against his tongue as pure sensation broke and washed over her.

"Mnnn! Ban!" She gasped, panting, holding his head tightly to her as his tongue writhed over her quim and his thumb worked at her entrance, pleasuring her through her orgasm.

Then she collapsed to the bed, gasping, her head swimming from more than the wine. Her entire body was languid now, he could feel it as he moved up her, kissing his way over her stomach and breasts. When he was above her, he braced himself on his arms and stared down at her.

"You're so flushed," he murmured, gazing at her cheeks. She turned her face to him and opened her eyes. "Your eyes are glazed…"

She laughed softly and reached up to stroke his face. "I've wanted to know what it feels like, ever since I heard about… That man would do that… There…" She confided, blushing crimson all the while.

"You mean..?" His eyes widened. Tavington had not done it to her. What the Devil had the two of them done then, that he had not pleasured her with his tongue? Did that mean she had not done it to him, either? "Beth," he said now, his eyes on her. "Does your curiosity extend to… Returning the favour?"

"I don't know how," she whispered uncertainly.

Banastre exulted, for Beth had just told him she had not pleasured William that way.

"It sounds as though we'll be doing more than you and… Him…" Banastre half teased.

"Yes, you're right," she teased back, smiling mischievously now her own need had been sated. Not even the reminder of her time alone with William could ruin her glowing mood. She stretched languidly, not seeming to realise how perfect she looked to him, with her breasts high now that her arms were above her head. "Perhaps we shouldn't do any more than I did with him - perhaps we should stop now?"

Banastre laughed aloud. "Hell, you are a vixen! Come now, my darling, must I beg?"

"You'll have to tell me what to do," her gaze became uncertain and he sensed she feared she might not please him. With a grin of anticipation, for he was certain she would do it to him now, he took a hold of her wrist and bought her hand to his lips.

"It's simple," he whispered, kissing the tip of her finger. "Just like this."

His tongue circled her finger tip and Beth shivered - she enjoyed that very much. He knew he would enjoy it even more, however, when she was kneeling between his legs. His eyes holding hers, he continued to circle her finger tip with his tongue.

"Then this," he murmured, suckling her finger tip until she licked her lips. "And this," he took her finger into his mouth and sucked. Beth's lips parted, her pulse racing. "The only rule, my sweet," he said then as he gazed down at her. "Is: be careful of your teeth."

"Oh…" She stared up at him, swallowing hard. "Very well. But how do you know so much? I hope you've not done it before."

"Beth!" He gasped, then saw she was laughing at him - somewhat nervously, he thought. "Vixen. You scandalous woman, what a thing to suggest! I've had enough women do it to me, that's how I know what to do!"

He edged away from her and lay back down, only then realising she had lost her amusement.

"What if… you don't… like it?" She asked uncertainly as she sat up beside him.

"Beth, I'll love anything you do to me, I vow it," he said earnestly. "Even if you just kiss me, I'll be happy."

"Alright," she smile tremulously. Shifting position, she was soon on her knees, her legs folded beneath her, between his parted legs. "Oh, I'm nervous now!" She giggled as she stared down at his member in apprehension.

"Come my sweet," Banastre said seriously, needing relief, yearning to feel her lips on him. "Please, Beth…"

"I won't make you beg," she whispered, lowering her head to him. Pleasure lanced through him and she hadn't even touched him yet. Seeing her head lower to him, though - it almost made Banastre die then and there. He hurriedly gathered her hair, holding it out of her way. When he felt her lips on him, he grunted and arched up to her.

"Like that?" She asked, seeking reassurance as she brushed her lips along his length.

"Agh, yes," he murmured, her lips felt so warm and soft. Pure bliss. "At the top, my sweet," he said breathlessly and Beth worked her way higher, kissing his helmet, her lips moving along the ridge. "Agh, God!" He grunted - the sound was so sudden and Beth jerked back, fearing she had done it wrong.

He sat up quickly and kissed her reassuringly, his hands holding either side of her face. "Perfect bliss," he whispered, his heart pounding against his ribs. "Bliss," he repeated as he lay back down. Beth, feeling more sure of herself, lowered her head once more. She resumed her kisses, much the way her lips moved over his while kissing in the more usual manner. Banastre's thighs tensed and he swallowed hard, his fingers curling gently in her hair.

"Like this?" She asked, and then circled his helmet tentatively, with her tongue.

"Exactly. Like. That." He ground out through gritted teeth, then moaned a long, satisfied moan. Her lips had felt good - wondrous even, but her tongue. Lord. He held his breath, waiting, hoping, to feel her move onto the next wonderful thing, the next delight. When she did it, when she opened her mouth to suckle him, it was all he could do not to push up into her deeply. His fingers grasped the coverlet in a tight fist and his thighs tensed, his feet moving restlessly as he panted. Lifting his head, he gazed down at her, just as she raised her eyes to his. With his cock buried deep in her mouth, and her eyes on his, he groaned and tried hard not to come.

"Christ," he muttered. "Agh, Christ. Beth - God, I love you. Christ - this feels so good. Ah, yes," he continued to murmur his encouragement as her lips moved up and down his length, the heat of her mouth scalding him. "Circle your tongue around as you suck - Agh, yes!" He arched his back and gasped, his cock pulsing and twitching in her mouth as she did as he instructed. "Harder, please, darling, more. Agh, so much more!"

She obeyed again, moving up and down faster now, suckling as hard as she could manage as he panted and writhed and groaned beneath her. An eternity later, but all too soon, she lifted off him.

"I'm sorry, do you mind if I stop now?" She asked him. He didn't question her - he understood her mouth was becoming sore - the muscles would not be used to those particular exertions.

"My darling, come here," he rasped out, holding his arms out to her. She moved up his body, kissing his stomach and chest as he had done to her, until she settled into his arms, laying alongside him, skin against skin. He kissed her forehead and stroked her cheek as she reached between them to stroke his cock with her soft hand. He had not had his orgasm yet, after all.

"My sweet," he shifted her to lay back against the pillows and then he moved across her body to settle himself on top of her. This was familiar to Beth, having done it with William and Harry both, though with them she had had the either her dresses - or the thin layer of her shift - to cover her nudity. She parted her legs to allow him room, assuming he wished to move his member along her as her previous lovers had done. He began moving as they had done, but he was edging downward, lifting and tilting his pelvis and trying to catch his tip to her entrance.

"Ban…" She whispered up at him, stroking his hair back from his face. "Ban - we can't."

"Just a little bit..?" He begged. His lips found hers and he kissed her so deeply, with such a heartfelt groan. "I won't take your virginity - just let me put the tip inside you. Please, darling…"

"I don't know," she frowned, uncertain. Surely if he put it inside her, even slightly, her virginity would be gone? He stroked her face, rubbing his thumb along her forehead to smooth her frown lines.

"Please darling," he cajoled. "You're so moist down there, so warm and tight. I thought I'd explode when I just put my thumb in you! You liked it, didn't you?"

She nodded, swallowing hard, for she certainly had liked it very much, when the tip of his thumb had pumped in and out of her.

"It'll be just like that, but so much better," he promised, already nudging at her entrance as though he had her permission. She shifted slightly, allowing him more room despite her uncertainty. "It'll be better, and you'll still be a virgin," he continued, believing his words wholeheartedly. "Just the tip - I won't go deeper - just to the ridge…"

Beth nodded. Surely he was speaking truly - he had bedded many women after all. If anyone would know, he would. The helmet of his cock - to the ridge - was only a couple of centimetres long. Perhaps the entire shaft had to be inside her before her maidenhead would break, and she was no longer a virgin. And his shaft was at least four times longer than his helmet. Almost seven inches…

"Agh, Beth," Banastre whispered, his lips crashing to hers, overwhelmed that she was allowing him to do this. He pressed his pelvis forward and she opened up around him, the head of shaft sunk deeper inside her and he groaned against her lips in pure, unadulterated pleasure. Unbeknownst to the naive and writhing lovers, Beth's maidenhead - that very thin layer of delicate tissue - stretched around Banastre's helmet, and ruptured. He began to move, lifting his hips almost imperceptibly and sinking in again, but no deeper than the ridge of his helmet, as he'd promised her. He longed to sink in more fully, to claim her utterly, but he managed to control himself.

"So strange," Beth murmured as her opening was stretched around his girth.

"But good?" He panted, shifting to one elbow to gaze down at her. She swallowed and nodded.

"It's good," she began to breathe heavily and she even lifted her own hips slightly, meeting his small motions. "Isn't it supposed to hurt?" She gasped out, shocked to feel pleasure mounting all over again.

"No," he panted, struggling to keep his thrusts shallow. "Only if I was deeper."

That was all he could manage - words were becoming difficult to form as he moved above her, with Beth writhing beneath him. The two kissed, Beth wrapped her arms around his neck and arched her back, striving and straining for more. Her pleasure was mounting but she needed more, his thrusts were too shallow, she would not reach completion this way! She groaned, frustrated and pleasured all at once. Ban was feeling as frustrated, and pleasured as Beth. His body was on fire, his cock burned even hotter. He longed to sink in more, but was satisfied with what they were doing just then. He'd come soon, he was certain of it. He could feel it mounting, as his sensitive helmet was engulfed in her tight warmth.

"I'm so close," he murmured, panting against her lips. "Agh, Beth. So close."

"Oh, Ban - please!" She despaired, her fingers sinking in to clutch his shoulders. "Oh, God, I want you deeper. Oh please - go in deeper!"

Banastre groaned, a harsh, animalistic sound. He froze above her and jerked his lips back from hers. Beth's eyes widened and fear curled her spine at his suddenly infuriated and intent expression. Holding her startled gaze, he glared down at her.

"I know you are crocked just now after all that wine, but I swear, if you beg me to do that, I will," he bit out. "I'm struggling not to already, my love - I'm only flesh and blood! I want nothing more than to be buried inside you - as deeply as possible. So if you don't want your virginity shattered, right now, don't ask me again!"

Beth swallowed as she stared up into his blazing eyes, struggling to control her own need now. It had felt so wonderful, and torturous, having him moving inside her entrance and she'd wanted it deeper, wanted to feel that sensation deep inside her. Nevertheless Henrietta's warning lanced through her, that George Howard would know she was not a virgin on their wedding night and they'd have one Hell of a marriage. The unworldly girl was naive to the knowledge that her virginity was already gone, given to Banastre the first moment he had entered her. Believing herself still intact, a rebellious part of her seized her and she stared up into Banastre's fire filled eyes, trying to decide who she would give her virginity to.

Banastre. Or George? Who should she allow to claim her virginity? The man above her, the man who loved her, who was poised and ready to take her, his eyes aflame with need that matched her own? Or the boy - her childhood friend - who she was being forced to marry?

"You are a ruined virgin so it makes no difference, Henrietta had said. "It will take time, Beth, but when you are safely married, our neighbours and I will begin to accept you back amongst us. Especially if you conduct yourself properly in future. If you prove to us all that you have put your wild days behind you. You can start by being a good wife to George, and a good mother to the children you bear him."

Who are they to judge me? How many of my damned neighbours had swollen bellies when they said their vows? How many of them screwed around with others - especially the men, jumping from bed to bed? Who are they to tell me how to conduct myself? Put my wild days behind me… Lord - those bastards!

She swallowed hard, her eyes pinned on his, her heart pounding with excitement and defiance. Rebel, Hanger had called her. She laughed now and Banastre frowned down at her.

"You think I'm joking?" He snarled. "I'll do it, I swear. God, I want to so much! Don't beg me to do what I know we can't do, because I'll do it. I'm trying to be a Gentleman, but I'm only flesh and blood!"

"So am I," she said, losing her amusement as her need took over. "Only flesh and blood. And I want you deeper."

Banastre reeled when she raised her legs then, opening herself further to him, her movements heavy and sluggish as she wrapped her ankles over the backs of his thighs, sliding them up and down his legs.

"Agh, Christ!" Banastre groaned as he began thrusting forward, her open invitation destroying his ability to control himself further. This time, he did not stop when his ridge nudged inside her entrance. This time he continued, sliding in deeper, holding his breath as her hot, tight velvet walls closed in around him. Her already torn maidenhead was ripped asunder around his shaft.

"Ho…" Beth gasped softly and her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her entire body stiffened beneath his inexorable onslaught, and she squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. She felt his lips kissing her brow, soothing her hurt even as he continued to cause it with his impaling of her.

"My love," he whispered as he reined those kisses. "My love, my darling, agh Christ."

And he was inside her, as deep as she'd wanted him to be, until their pelvis's were mashed together and he could go no further. The pain was gone. Banastre began to move back and forth, setting a steady rhythm.

"I never dreamed…" she gasped as he speared her and the tightness in her stomach, in her body, began anew. "Oh, Lord, Ban…"

Those strangled words unleashed the demon inside him and Banastre grunted as he began to thrust wildly.

Beth began to pant again, she clutched his shoulders and whimpered, the pleasure lancing through her more intense than anything she'd felt before. Each thrust caused her to gasp and writhe, bringing her quickly to climax.

It built back up steadily for Banastre, the mounting tension and fire surging through him, needing release. He rocked his hips, up and down, his cock at the tip of her almost slipping out only to thrust deeply back in again. It caused Banastre to pant, to stop his continual kissing and drop his head to Beth's shoulder. With a long groan, both agonised and pleasure filled, his cock twitched inside her, the fire scouring his veins rushed through his body and burst out of him in spurts. He pulled out as he came - his hot seed pulsing from his length to spill just in her entrance, hoping that gesture was enough to prevent pregnancy. He shuddered, his entire body convulsed, with Beth stroking his back, kissing his cheek and neck as though to help calm him. He held her tight, his eyes squeezed shut at the peek of his orgasm, holding her even as it began to fade away.

"Lord," he whispered into her neck, not wishing to move an inch. "That was… Perfection."

Beth sighed and continued kissing him, her lips moving across his shoulder until he lifted his head to claim her mouth. Slowly, as though his limbs were moving through honey, Banastre pushed himself up off her warm body to kneel between her legs. He stared down at her, laying back against the pillows with her arms under her head, no longer caring that she was so utterly exposed to him. Feeling the profoundness of the moment - she had given him her virginity! - he smiled and she smiled back.

"Can you pass me your handkerchief?" He asked her, nodding at the thin square of white cotton on the side table. Beth turned her head in that direction, then reached over languidly to get it for him. She watched him tidy himself up, then lifted her bottom at his request so he could wipe her clean as well. Reason began to return to her then, now that her need was sated, and it crashed down on her tenfold when she saw the handkerchief come away bloody and slick with his seed.

"Oh my Lord, what have I done?" She whispered.

"Beth?" He sat alongside her and put his arms around her as she began to cry. It was only now that she was faced with its loss that she realised how important it was - her last shred of dignity, of virtue, after her destroyed reputation and ruination. She had been able to cling to that last vestige, that at least she was still a virgin. And to make matters worse, not only was she going to George a woman rather than a virgin, but she might also have her belly filled with another man's bastard.

"Oh, God, it's all gone now - I really am ruined now!"

"Shh," he held her against his chest, his hands moving over her hair and back.

"Oh, Ban - I'm so stupid, we shouldn't have done this!" She sobbed. "Oh, God - I could get with child!"

"My darling," he nuzzled his nose into her hair, kissing her cheeks as he did. "All will be well, " he whispered and she drew back, startled, staring at him with hope and despair both.

"How will it be well? How can you say that? I know what happens when men and women couple!"

"Shh, I don't think you'll get with child from this," he took hold of her hands and kissed her fingers but Beth was still far too panicked to be calmed so easily.

"How can you say that?" She wailed again. "That you think I won't get with child! You can't know! You don't know!"

"Shh, shh, shh!" He whispered, trying to sooth her.

"How can you know?" She collapsed into his embrace, tears coursing her cheeks.

"I was careful, my love," he told her. "I didn't spill my seed inside you - I pulled out of you before it began."

"You did?" She whispered through her tears. "Does that work - I don't know how it works!"

"I do," he lied - for as experienced as he was with the way of women, his knowledge was not full proof. He knew of several men who purposefully pulled themselves out of their women before spilling their seed, but their ladies had still fallen pregnant. He needed to calm her however and so he put as much confidence into his voice as he could. "I know how it works and I took what measures I could - you won't get with child from this."

And if you do, I'll take care of you.

He didn't verbalise this thought aloud, for he feared she would be sent into another panic, and he was trying to calm her with his certainty, not make it worse with his doubt.

"You're sure, Ban?" Beth pleaded fretfully. "Please - are you really certain?"

"I am," he lied, stifling his guilt over speaking this falsehood.

"Oh, God," Beth collapsed against the pillows, panting every bit as much as she had earlier when he'd pleasured her. This time, however, it was with relief. "Oh, sweet Lord, I was worried for a moment there!" She laughed nervously.

She turned her face to his, laying her palm along his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him.

"Well, there's nothing to worry about, my sweet," he said.

"Oh, Lord," she laughed again - a release of pent up tension. "I'm sorry - I spoiled our special moment, didn't I? With my panic…"

"Understandable," he tightened his hold on her. "You made me doubt myself for a moment there too. But there's none of my seed in you, my darling. All will be well."

"Hmm," she snuggled closer and draped her leg over his.

As Banastre lay there with her in his arms, he began to feel a new sort of possessiveness toward her. An ownership of sorts. For Beth had lost her virginity to him - giving herself to him freely - and was, therefore, entirely his.

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

Despite the long and stressful day, neither of them felt particularly sleepy. As they lay back on the pillows, the two began to chat, speaking openly of all that had occurred during the time they were parted. Banastre began first, by regaling Beth of tales of New York and the journey back to Winnsboro. When she teased and provoked him, he told her of the many women he'd bedded along the way, for she would not let him avoid the topic. He also spoke of the skirmishes and fights, pointing to each of his new scars and telling her the story of how he won them.

Two hours later and he had finally run out of things to tell her - she was as caught up on the last two months as she possibly could be. It was her turn, he declared, then settled back to listen as she told all that had taken place in her life. She spoke of the ball, of Tavington's intention to use her against Burwell by setting up the rendezvous. She did not tell Banastre that she had warned Burwell of Tavington's plot to capture him, for she doubted she would find any sympathy there. Tarleton was on the 'other' side and, like Tavington, would consider her actions as treasonous. Might even give her the flogging Tavington had warned he would give her. She did tell Banastre about that - that Tavington had promised her a flogging, though she deliberately failed to mention that she was guilty of William's accusations and therefore deserving of the punishment. Banastre stiffened, his face darkening, for he knew full well that William was quite capable of it.

"You won't want to be reunited with him any time soon then," he murmured, stroking her arm.

"No - not if it means I'll be whipped. Now, if my reunion with him was to be as pleasant as this one," she teased, her eyes shining brightly as she kissed his neck. "Then perhaps I'd look forward to it."

Banastre scowled at her and with a scoff, he shoved her off his neck.

"Trying to make me jealous, are you?" He accused. "Vixen. I might put you over my knee."

Beth laughed and snuggled close to his body again. When she was comfortable, she continued, this time speaking of her departure from Charles Town, the skirmish between Marion's men and the Green Dragoons at the Falls. It had shocked Banastre that Beth would have friends so highly placed amongst the rebels - such as Marion the Fox. Beth dismissed the connection, explaining that she herself did not have friends amongst the higher ranking Patriots - it was Colonel Burwell who had sent Marion, to protect the woman he loved. Satisfied with this explanation, Banastre urged her to continue. It had been fairly quiet at Fresh Water for a short time, not much to tell him there. She spoke of the reading of the first Bann and how happy everyone was. Banastre wasn't too well pleased with that - nor was he even remotely happy that Burwell had been camped at Fresh Water. Beth had told him all this naively, but the entire time, Banastre had grown darker, more fury filled, and had even considered arresting Benjamin Martin for hosting the Continental's for so long. It was a clear act of Treason, is what it was! He said none of this to Beth, of course and she continued on blithely. She spoke of Shadow Dancer, her wedding gift from Burwell, and how she had raced the mare against the other men and had won.

"She was almost mine, that horse," Banastre chortled. "Can you imagine? Burwell's wedding gift for his fiancé, and Hanger was going to take her, to give to me."

"Well, you can't have her," Beth said primly. "And stop that chortling. Everything went wrong after that - I can't tell you any of it while you're laughing like that."

"Sorry," he chuckled some more over how close Burwell's 'wedding' gift had become his, but eventually subsided. When Beth felt he was sobered enough, she continued, speaking now of the trip to Pembroke - and the villagers altered attitude and treatment toward her. Her voice was a quiet, grave whisper as she told of her meeting with Reverend Oliver, which resulted in Burwell ending their engagement.

"It was horrible, the questions they asked, that I had to answer. My father was sitting right there, Ban, and I had to admit I… Did things… With William. Lord - Papa was so disgusted with me. He still is - I don't think he'll ever forgive me. Nor will he ever look at me the same. I think that, out of everything, that's the hardest part to bear. That my father despises me. He used to love me so much!"

She choked off and began to cry, Banastre soothed her, rocking her gently.

"Well, you have me now," he said. "And I'd do nothing to hurt you, my sweet Beth."

"For how long?" She asked bitterly. "You'll not be here for ever, Banastre. You'll move on with the Dragoons and I'll be all alone again. At least until my father has me married off as he intends. The man he's chosen for me... I like him well enough but I don't want to marry him."

"What?!" Banastre exploded as he understood the implication of her words. He sat up so abruptly that Beth fell back against the pillows and stared up at him. His face blazed with fury as understanding hit him like a hammer. "He's marrying you off?"

"Yes," she whispered, surprised at the strength of his emotions. "I'm engaged again. It was sudden but formally done - between our fathers - and acknowledged by our Reverend. Oliver will begin announcing the banns the Sunday after next, so all of Pembroke will know."

"Jesus!" Banastre spat. His jaw worked, clenching tight as he ground his teeth with frustration. He glared at Beth as she sat up, her face lined with concern. "You're bloody mine, damn it! I thought you were mine! I've waited for so long to see you, to be with you! And then I read of your engagement to bloody Burwell. I hear of you and bloody William doing who the Hell knows what with each other. Do you have any idea how relieved I was this afternoon when I discovered your engagement was truly over? And that you and William didn't… Jesus, Beth! I thought that now you were finally free!"

Beth hung her head, her hair falling to either side of her face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered finally. "I'm not free, Ban. I can't break this engagement - not without incurring the wrath of my entire family. And it's not just that - not just fear of being disowned. My father said that my actions in Charles Town could very well destroy our entire family - my sisters might not marry well. If the plantation loses custom because people refuse to make contracts with us, we could lose the farm. We've already lost workers, two families who up and left in disgust when they heard what I'd done, because I'd done it with a Redcoat. I've bought my family its knees, my father said. I can't have Maggie and Susan suffer for this. My brothers too - they might be able to marry well either. And to lose the farm? How would my father provide for them?" She shook her head and continued sadly. "And it's all my fault. No one else's. I've done this to us and now I have to do everything I can to fix it. If that means marrying the man my father has chosen, then I'll marry him. He's a nice enough fellow - I've known him all my life."

"What about us?" He ground out and she glanced at him blankly. "God, Beth - I am in love with you. You know that!"

"I do know that," she admitted. "But what would you suggest I do? My hands are tied! My actions have just about destroyed my family. I can't cause all that damage and then run off to be your mistress in camp, if that's what your suggesting!"

"You could!" He tightened his lips, glaring at her with fury. "You can come with me, Beth! I can't just leave you here to marry some other man - no matter how 'nice' he is!

"You have to," she asserted. "Banastre, admit it - you weren't thinking beyond the moment when you came in here with me this evening, and neither was I! You'll move on with the army and I'll stay here. I'll do what I can to minimise the damage I've done. I won't make it worse by traipsing off with you!"

"Christ!" He spat, then threw himself back against the pillows, his body stiff and rife with tension. His eyes glittered up at her as she gazed down at him gravely. "You really won't come with me?" He hissed.

"No," she shook her head. "How can I? Run off with a Redcoat," she scoffed softly. "Lord, my family would be destroyed then. I care for you Ban, you must know that," she lay down alongside him and reached out to stroke his chest. "But I can't run off and be your mistress - not knowing what it would do to my family. I'm sorry."

"Christ." He clenched his jaw and pulled his eyes from hers, refusing to look at her. Her fingers continued to stroke his chest but he ignored that too, he was too angry. She had spoken truly, however - her family would be destroyed if she took off to be with him. But just then, he didn't care. The woman he loved - the woman he'd been pining for all these months - the same woman he'd thought he'd finally won, was going to marry another man, rather than be Banastre's mistress. In a fit of fury, he swatted her hand away and lurched up, threw his legs over the side of the bed and perched there, his head buried in his hands.

Beth watched him for a while as he sat there - obviously filled with tension. With a heavy sigh, she rose to her knees and kneeled on the bed behind him to stroke his back. Then she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his back, waiting for him to calm from his anger. He did eventually, understanding that she was well and truly caught. There was nothing she could do about her situation - and running off with him would only make her life worse. He leaned back into her, allowing her to comfort and soothe him. Eventually, he turned in her embrace and took her into his arms. They kissed as they lay back on the pillows, and as their ardour rose, they began pleasuring one another once again.