Chapter 86 - O'Hara Takes Charge:

"Gods, he looks…" General O'Hara tightened his lips as he looked down at Lieutenant Farshaw, fury surging through his blood.

"Like a man that was almost beaten to death," Major Fallows agreed.

"What do you know of it?"

"Very little," Fallows replied. "I've told you, the British Legion has closed ranks, it's been very difficult for me to get information from there. I knew that something was amiss, however, and I knew it concerned Lieutenant Farshaw and his wife, though I had no idea what it was. It's taken me a day and a half to find him."

"He was left there to die, you said?"

"General," Fallows said softly, "I believe they left him because they thought him to be dead."

"Dear Lord," O'Hara sighed. "Where is Mrs. Farshaw?"

"At Fresh Water," Fallows said. "That's how I knew that something had happened. She was living in her tent one moment and was suddenly at Fresh Water the next. I have not seen her myself, but I've been told she was beaten also."

"By the people who did this to Farshaw? Or by Farshaw."

"By Farshaw, General."

"Hmm," O'Hara glared at the man on the cot, his face covered in bruises and swelling, he was barely recognisable.

"When Mrs. Farshaw showed up at Fresh Water and her husband was no where to be seen, I set a search for him. This is how my men found him, under a tree, beaten and unconscious."

"Thank you for bringing him here, Major," O'Hara said. "And for bringing this to my attention."

"I would have done sooner, but I you're unwell yourself and I did not want to disturb you unless the need was great."

"I believe the need is great," O'Hara said wryly. "Besides, I'm on the mend, Major." He moved closer to the bed, Fallows fell in beside him. "Lieutenant?" He called softly to the broken youth on the cot. "Lieutenant Farshaw?"

Calvin slowly opened his eyes, or tried to. Only one lid could open, the other was swollen shut. He blinked his good eye up at the Officer standing over him. His one good eye landed on the insignia on the other Officer's uniform and Calvin automatically tried to rise, for it was ingrained into every soldier, to salute those above them. And Brigadier General O'Hara was as high as they got at Fresh Water fort.

O'Hara motioned him back down.

"Just rest," the General said. "The physician has informed me of suspected broken ribs and the other trauma your body has endured. I do not wish you to injure yourself further on my account."

Calvin relaxed, shifting back against the pillow. All around him, other soldiers either slept or moaned quietly as they were tended by doctors, their aides and the camp women. He was in an infirmary, though he had no idea how long he'd been there for.

O'Hara pulled a seat over beside the cot so that he was not looming. Another fellow continued to stand, slightly behind the General.

"Do you remember what happened?" O'Hara asked gently. "Are you able to talk at all?"

"I can talk," Calvin replied, though it hurt to do so. He kept his breaths shallow for the rise and fall of his chest was the purest agony.

"I've been trying to keep an eye on you," O'Hara continued, his pale eyes intent on the youth laying on the cot. "I receive some reports via my aide de camp, Major Fallows." He gestured and the Officer standing behind him inclined his head at Calvin. "However, these reports have been few and far between since you left Captain McLauglin's unit."

"Didn't leave," Calvin licked his lips and the other fellow, Major Fallows, moved quickly to pour water, which he placed at Calvin's lips. Calvin drank, then slumped back down on the pillow. "I did not leave. Not willingly. That was Tavington's doing."

"Indeed?" O'Hara said, lifting his chin. "Well, we shall discuss that more in a moment. It seems that Tavington's men have closed ranks, not allowing more than a dribble of information to get past them. I've been reluctant to press the issue and decided that while there was no trouble, I would not. But now, there has been trouble, hasn't there? You may rest assured however, that anything you decide to tell me, will be taken quite seriously," he said this firmly, his jaw tight.

And Calvin, after studying the General for several long moments, realised he was speaking truly. Tavington might have done his level best to control all of those beneath him, but he had no control whatsoever over those above. And those above him, it seemed, were on the alert.

"I can tell you the whole of it? And I will be believed?" Calvin whispered, licking his lips again. Again, Fallows was there with the cup and this time, Calvin drunk deeply.

"Yes," O'Hara replied. "Major Fallows here suspected that something was amiss. He sent out his men to search for you, and they found you under a tree, as you are now."

"They thought you were dead at first," Major Fallows pulled up the other chair and sat close to Calvin's head, ready to assist with more water at need. "I had you bought here."

"Thank you," Calvin said. "How long?"

"Since you were found? Yesterday morning," Fallows said and Calvin's eyes bulged.

"That long? Gods."

"Please, Lieutenant, do tell me what befell you," O'Hara said.

Calvin closed his good eye as he remembered the events of the night before last. At length he began to speak, telling O'Hara and Fallows all of it.

Calvin no longer gave a rats arse for Tavington's lackeys. He was damned if he would be careful of them for one minute longer. Not after the message Emily had given Mrs. Salisbury to pass on to him. Fuck them. Tavington had fucking helped Major Bordon, the two had colluded together, the result being that Calvin had been cuckolded. As he'd just begun to suspect, Harmony was not going to visit the Colonel's fucking wife, she was instead spreading her legs and screwing Bordon, with each so called summons from Mrs. Tavington! For the past week, when she was supposedly visiting the great house to dine with Mrs. Tavington, she had actually been in the arms of her former lover!

Current lover again, it seemed. Calvin seethed. Only a short while earlier, Mrs. Salisbury had sought him out and told him the truth of Harmony's affair. He was left itching with the need to deal with Harmony immediately, but he was saddled with going through drills with his unit beneath the hot afternoon sun. Captain Dubose would hardly let him leave early, Calvin did not even bother asking. For now, he had no choice but to take his frustration out on the fellow he was sparring against, and his opponent was hard pressed to defend himself against Calvin's attack.

"What's the damned matter with you, Farshaw?" The fellow finally spat, falling back away from a punch aimed for the side of his head.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Calvin shot back, his fingers balling into fists. "You think your enemy is going to hold back his punches, when you're fighting in a real fuckin' battle?"

The fellow had nothing to say to this, and the two again assumed fighting stances. They clashed together again, fists flying and soon the other fellow was groaning on the ground, clutching at his broken nose. Fucking cry baby. Calvin snorted and, his gait graceful and deadly, he faced off against another soldier in his unit for another mock battle. Not satisfied to let the soldiers go after drilling them, Dubose commanded the unit trotted in step around the perimeter of the camp. They ran, hot and sweaty and exhausted, they ran. After circling the camp at that exhausting trot, they returned to Dubose, who stood waiting for them in the comfort of his open tent with a cup of cider in his hand. Fucking bastard. How Calvin had glared at the Captain who was working them so damned hard. The men were exhausted, even Calvin who had always been quite athletic. He was an Officer, Goddamn it, but Dubose was having him train like a fucking mere ranker. Captain Dubose dismissed them for the evening meal, and Calvin began to stride back to camp, his fury over Harmony and Bordon renewing his vigour.

I'll be careful of the baby, but I'll be damned if she gets off fuckin' lightly for this. I don't give a fuckin' damn if the piece of shit Colonel does have me flogged after! He decided grimly. He was so damned thankful that Mrs. Andrews had been able to discern Harmony's pregnancy so early, or he would have cause to doubt who the father was, now that she'd taken up with Bordon again since. The baby was the only thing of import now.

His friends, Jack. Even Christian Leeds and the others from back home. They all looked at him with renewed respect now that he was to be a father. For his baby, he would be careful of Harmony's stomach. Her face, however, was to be another matter entirely. Her legs, also. He could bend her over a table and whip her rump and the backs of her legs raw and bloody - that wouldn't hurt the baby. It would have Harmony screaming, but the baby would not be harmed.

I'll have to gag her, he thought. For if he did not, her screams would draw the attention of every soldier within earshot, and her chastisement would stop before it truly began. It was almost full dark by the time he reached his tent. As soon as he entered, his eyes landed on Harmony, who sat beside a lantern, sewing one of his shirts.

"Have you eaten?" She asked him. "I can fetch you something if you're too tired to get it yourself."

Yes, what a fuckin' accommodating wife you've been lately, he curled his fingers into fists. I should've known from that alone that somethin' wasn't right.

It was not going to work - his idea of gagging her before the beating. The tents were struck too close together and the men set to listen for anything amiss were sure to become curious over the strange noises that they were bound to hear. Harmony's muffled screeching around the gag would draw them like bees to honey.

"No, I'm not hungry and nor am I tired," he said, easing his stance and keeping his tone light so she would not be alerted. "We are going to visit Christian and the boys tonight," he informed her, deciding he needed to get her clear of the camp, away into the trees or some other place that was not well populated with Tavington's spies. A gag would work then. Opening his chest, he pulled a pair of knee length socks out and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Oh, Cal, I don't want to go there." Her whining grated on every nerve in his body. "It's almost dark now and I'm exhausted. I could barely sleep last night, the baby kept me awake."

It wasn't the baby that's been keeping you awake, you fucking whore. He did not voice this out loud. Instead, he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She gaped at him in utter shock, and he smiled cruelly. The stupid bitch had thought she'd gotten the better of him, with her little protectors - one of which she was fucking. Well, he'd show her.

"They've been asking to see you," he ground out. It was true enough, the boys from their village had been wanting Harmony to join them. But of course she hadn't and it became clear why now. If she'd left to spend the night with them, she might have missed out on 'Mrs. Tavington's' summons, which meant she would not have been able to spread open her thighs for Major Bordon. He tried to ease his expression and his voice. "You're coming this time, Harmony. You can ask them all you want about their wives, then."

"Alright…" Harmony said slowly, reaching for her cape. "Hopefully they will have news by now. I've asked you so many times to get news, Cal and you never do."

He waited impatiently while she pulled her cape around her body. They left the tent, it was fully dark out now but the avenue was well lit by firebrands. Mrs. Andrews stepped from her tent and when her eyes landed on the couple, she stopped dead, her face horrified. Calvin wondered at that, until he realised that his face must have been thunder. He smoothed his expression to something more benign. He inclined his head toward her, even forced a smile. Harmony was about to stop and chat with the midwife, but Calvin jerked her arm to keep her walking. Harmony shot him a dark look at being manhandled, then fell in step beside him. They soon cleared the camp completely and were walking toward the next lot of pickets, with soldiers standing sentry over the perimeter of the next encampment. That was where Christian Leeds resided, where Calvin and the other boys gathered for their twice weekly gambling and drinking. Instead of walking through the pickets, he steered Harmony away and into the darkness.

"Where are we going?" She asked, frowning. Their eyes took time to adjust to the darkness, but they could soon discern dips in the ground that could break an unwary ankle, and the dark shape of a stand of trees just up ahead.

"I need a piss first," he lied. "And maybe we can have a quick rut up against a tree while we're there. You do like to rut, don't you Harm?"

Finally, she began to grow cautious. He could barely see her face in the sparse silvery light of the moon over head, but he sensed her sudden tension, felt the worried breath that left her lips in a sudden burst. She stopped dead, just shy of the trees, and she whirled as if to turn back. He tightened his grip on her arm, hauling her backward. Harmony's terrified gasp was cut short, for as soon as she opened her lips to scream, his socks were jammed deep into her mouth. Gaping over the woollen ball, she was hauled upward against a tree. The rough bark bit into her back, Calvin's body pressing her hard against it. She tried to rip the bundle free from her mouth but her scrabbling fingers were immediately grasped, her wrists seized together and her arms pushed high over her head. Her whimpers were muffled as Calvin jerked open his breeches with his free hand, then lifted her skirts to her waist. He tried to knee her legs apart, digging in between them painfully but she kept them closed, squeezed tight as she tried to squirm away. His full armed slap twisted her head to one side, and she was crying in earnest now, tears soaking into the wool gaping from her mouth.

"Fuckin' whore," he taunted her, his voice thick with fury. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

She tensed then, still crying convulsively as she stared at him in horror.

"Yes, you fuckin' bitch, I know all about you and Bordon, of you screwin' him when you told me you were visiting Mrs. Tavington." She was making strangling noises now. Calvin shoved his hand hard between her legs and jerked her thighs apart. With her leg held hopelessly high, he positioned himself, then entered her in one swoop. "Fuckin' bitch," his breath was hot against her ears. "Is this how he does it? Do you even wash his fuckin' come out before you come back to me?" His fingers tightened painfully on her wrists and he thrust his hips forward, fucking deeply inside her, putting as much violence into the motion as he could. Though she was well used to coupling, she was in pain now, he could tell from the sobs ripping from her. "You're never goin' to see him again," he panted in her ear as he forced himself toward orgasm. "We'll dessert - right now. Fuck him. I'll have you halfway across the Santee before he even knows you're gone!" The idea only just occurred to him, but he seized it eagerly. Burying his face into her shoulder, he propelled himself forward, his long cock fucking her more deeply than ever before. His helmet struck her cervix and she cried at the battering deep inside her. Planting his boots in the dirt, he tensed, rammed forward one last time and then threw back his head, his seed shooting from him in a fiery orgasm. He collapsed against her again, panting as the fire abated and he began to come down from his climax.

"I promised I'd take you home, Harm. So that's what I'm goin' to do. Right fucking now," he informed her between laboured breaths. It was a struggle to buckle his breeches up with only one hand, for his other was still holding Harmony's wrists high, preventing her from removing the gag. "You'll never see that fuckin' bastard again, and in future, you'll fuck only the men I tell you to fuck. Those that can pay. You fucked Bordon, so my promise that I wouldn't make you fuck other men no longer holds. You're a whore, you can bloody well be paid for it. You better be thankful for the baby inside you now, because I swear it, if it wasn't for that, I'd fucking beat you to the edge of your pathetic life. As it is…" He pulled back his fist and it crashed into her jaw. The force of the blow snapped her head back, she struck the tree behind her hard enough to daze her. As she began to wilt he struck her again, and again. There was no further use for the gag, Harmony was in so much agony she did not have the strength to scream. When he jerked it free of her mouth, all she could do was whimper. On all fours, she tried to crawl away, but her movements were sluggish and slow, as though she were trying to move through molasses.

Calvin was panting again, this time from exhaustion. He'd spent the day fighting and then trotting around the camp, and then after ravaging his wife, his second strength was draining from him. He stumbled a few steps back, then stared down at her as he tried to regroup his strength.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" He laughed at her, she'd made it a full yard away from him, her fingers digging into the muddy ground as she crawled on her hands and knees. Those sobbing gasps exploding from her lips were not enough. Not for him. Not for her cuckolding him. He needed more from her, wanted to hear more of her sweet cries of agony. With one quick jerk, he pulled his belt free from his breeches. Gripping the back of her neck with strong fingers, he pinned her in place. She tried to writhe away but was held fast as he lifted her skirts again, revealing the pale half crescents of her buttocks to him. With an inarticulate growl, he lifted his arm high, the leather strap looped in on itself, and he sent it flying downward. Harmony squealed as more pain flared. He lifted his arm high again and struck her repeatedly, in quick succession, faster than a man could clap. Slap, slap, slap, Harmony could barely count them and she was near to fainting. When it finally stopped and her shoulders relieved of his weight, she dropped face forward into the mud.

Calvin had not stopped because he wanted to. No, he was so lost to the fury that he could have struck her with his belt a hundred more times. But both his beating of Harmony and his plans to desert with her were thwarted when a strong arm seized his arm and he was hauled away from his prone wife, coming face to face with Major Bordon. The Major's cold, fury filled eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire in the darkness of night.

"Please, Sir, don't send me back to them," Calvin begged O'Hara now. "They want me dead, I know they do. And they'll fuckin' make me suffer for hours or days before they end it. Please, don't send me back to their command."

"We shall discuss that in a moment, Lieutenant. Please continue your report," O'Hara commanded.

"There were five of them," Calvin said. His throat was dry, his voice hoarse after speaking for so long. He had left out many details in his retelling of the nights events - it would not do to reveal that he had intended to dessert, he doubted the General would sit still for that. Nor did he speak of fucking his wife up against that tree, for it was no one's damned business. He did tell O'Hara and Fallows of Bordon and Harmony's resumed affair. And O'Hara was staring at him with a grave expression on his face - his eyes had taken on a disgusted glint when Calvin spoke of the beating he'd given his wife. He had not left that out of his retelling, he had been quite frank about it, for why shouldn't he? Who the fuck were these people to tell him not to discipline his own wife when she was in need of it? He didn't think O'Hara would have done any less, had he discovered he'd been cuckolded.

"Five of them?" O'Hara asked, prompting Calvin.

"Five. I recognised Brownlow and Dalton, those are the two who come down to escort Harmony to Mrs. Tavington. Only they've been escorting her to Bordon's fuckin' cottage," his lips twisted in a scowl. "And there was Bordon and two more. Brownlow and Dalton held my arms back, I couldn't even defend myself. Bordon had the first blow, damned near split my skull in two. I couldn't even think straight after that. From there, all I knew was pain. I must have fought back, I remember wrenching out of Brownlow's hold and I think I had my fingers around Bordon's throat, I tried to throttle him but Dalton kicked me off. And I think I got a few punches in -"

"You did," Fallows said. "I'm told Major Bordon is sporting quite a few bruises - his right eye doesn't look any better than yours. His cravat covers most of his neck but the bruises can be seen above it."

"Well, I can not say that I am willing to chastise you for striking a superior Officer, nor for trying to strangle him, considering." O'Hara's expression was such that Calvin had the feeling that O'Hara would not have minded throttling the Major himself.

"Most of it's a daze," Calvin said. "A hazy blur, but I do remember them taking turns. Brownlow and another Dragoon had my arms back again, tighter this time, and Bordon, Dalton and a Dragoon I didn't recognise each took turns punching and kicking me. I must have blacked out at one point, and I remember waking up, I was laying on the ground staring up into the trees over head. Harmony and the others were gone. They'd taken me wife, and left me for fuckin' dead. The next time I woke, I was here."

"I see. Very well," O'Hara turned and gestured to one of his entourage. "Go directly to Fresh Water and arrest Major Bordon. Tell Tavington that I will speak with him immediately."

"Why, Sir?" Calvin said as the other Officer strode away. "You're one of them, aren't you?"

"Am I Tavington's man?" O'Hara arched an eyebrow. "Most certainly not. I do not condone any of their actions. You say that Tavington organised with Captain McLaughlin to have you forced into his unit, and men were placed in position to keep an eye on your interactions with your wife, and those men were reporting back to Tavington?" Calvin nodded. "You say that Bordon issued you the dirtiest of duties - such as digging latrines?"

"As though I'm a common grunt, a damned ranker, rather than an Officer," Calvin spat, furious. "They don't give me an Officer's duties, not ever. They call me Lieutenant but I'm not fucking treated like one."

"Yes, quite unjust. And you maintain that this is the third time that Major Bordon has instigated a fight with you? I was there for the first. The second, you say, was the very day of your transfer into the British Legion? That he simply came up to you and tried to drag your wife away? That he beat you that day?"

"Yeh - he threw the first punch," Calvin said, adding, "we did our best to try and kill each other, until Tavington showed up and stopped the fight. That was when the Colonel laid it all out like, tellin' me what I could and couldn't do with my own fuckin' wife. He would have tried to stop me from screwin' with her at all, if he could have. But not even he has that sort of power."

"That he doesn't," O'Hara said primly.

"It wouldn't even bother me, fightin' Bordon one on one," Calvin ground out. "Like those other times. But the other night, it was five against one, and after a day filled with trainin' and then trottin' around the boundary of the camp, I was as helpless as a fuckin' baby."

"As helpless as your wife was against you?" O'Hara arched that eyebrow again.

"Sir, I have every damned right to strike my wife if I feel she deserves it. And findin' out that she's been screwin' Bordon, I dearly felt she deserved it!"

"Be that as it may," O'Hara said crisply, "I will not tolerate it. As for your concerns, I agree that your life is in danger under Tavington's command. I shall heed your request, you shall be temporarily be moved from it to mine, until matters are settled."

"Temporarily?" Calvin gasped. "You can't send me back to Tavington!"

"For now," O'Hara overrode Farshaw's protests, "you will be assigned to Major Fallows, who has need of an assistant." Fallows nodded agreement. "It is far more gentle work, your body is not up to the rigours of more strenuous duties. I doubt you will be able to perform the duties of an infantry Officer anytime soon."

"Indeed not," Fallows agreed.

"You shall be Fallows secretary for the time being, answerable directly to him and to me. Tavington and Bordon will have no part of that chain of command for now," O'Hara said. "However, and I can not stress this enough, Sir, this transfer comes with certain expectations. I understand you to be a drinking man, and often quarrelsome with others. This will stop now - no more drinking, no more fighting. When you behave like a ranker, you can hardly take Tavington and Bordon to task for giving you a rankers work. Further, I will tolerate no further violence toward your wife. She will continue to reside with you - you will be quartered at the Ferguson Plantation. She and Bordon will have no further opportunity for mischief, which should allay your concerns. If she does something to upset you, you will stay your hand young man, for I have absolutely no respect for a man who will strike his wife, whether he has the law on his side or not. Agree to it, here and now, or you will be returned to Tavington's command, for I have no use of that sort."

"It sounds like you're goin' to eventually anyway!" Calvin protested.

"Take what gift you are offered, Lieutenant," Fallows advised. "If you prove yourself, perhaps General O'Hara can be convinced to let you stay."

Calvin glanced back and forth between them. "Very well," he finally agreed.

"And there will be no more cursing in my presence," O'Hara said, voice prim. "Officers do not comport themselves in such a base manner, especially those amongst my staff."

"Yes, Sir," Calvin said sullenly.

"Very good. Rest yourself, you will be given a chamber in the Ferguson residence as soon as the Doctor sees fit to release you."

"And my wife?" Calvin asked as O'Hara rose from the chair. "When will she be transferred to the Ferguson house?"

"Forthwith," O'Hara said immediately. "And your belongings will be bought from the camp also. Rest easy. Mrs. Farshaw will not spend another moment in Bordon's company, ever again."

"Thank you, Sir. It's dam-" he cut off, remembering he was not to curse in front of O'Hara. "It's a good thing we've discovered her pregnancy so early on, or I wouldn't know who the father is. On my oath, I believe that half the reason Bordon began this affair again was to get back at me for gettin' my own wife pregnant."

O'Hara hesitated, he stared down at Farshaw with a look of blatant incredulity. Harmony had been at least a month along before she'd even been reunited with her husband! But it would not do to say so. Quickly smoothing the expression from his face, he nodded gravely. "Yes, well. Good day, Lieutenant."

O'Hara left Major Fallows at Farshaw's bedside. Once he was outside, he marched to his horse and mounted. With the rest of his coterie, he galloped hard to Fresh Water, where he dismounted, tossed the reins to a waiting soldier, and marched into the house.

It was an absolute uproar inside, he could hear Tavington's voice bellowing from his office. O'Hara strode past a nervous looking Mrs. Tavington, his eyes fell on Mrs. Farshaw and he stopped short, drawing a quick breath. Her face was black, blue and swollen, and she hunched in on herself, her hands pressed protectively over her stomach.

I should have come here first, he thought, disgust rising from his gut like bile. If he had have done, he might have left Lieutenant Farshaw under Tavington's command, his fate be damned.

"How is the baby?" He asked Harmony gently.

"I think… I think the baby is alright," she replied softly, bruised eyes haunted. With shaking fingers, she wrapped a stray lock of her back over her ear. "I wasn't hit there… Everywhere else, but not there."

O'Hara sighed heavily, almost wishing he could separate the wife from the husband. But it was not in his power to do so. He vowed to keep an eagle eye on the pair in future as he walked further down the hall. Tavington's shouting was more distinct now, it was clear that he was challenging the Officer O'Hara had sent to take Bordon into custody. The nerve of him! That alone was enough to earn Tavington a few hours in confinement! Striding into the office, he locked eyes with the Colonel, and Tavington fell immediately silent.

"Captain," O'Hara told his man while completely ignoring Tavington and Bordon both. "You have your orders. Arrest Major Bordon immediately." Again ignoring Bordon, who stood against one far wall watching apprehensively, O'Hara again locked eyes with Tavington. He waited for the Colonel to challenge him, and was prepared to raise all hell if he dared. Tavington did not. Bordon's arms were seized, and he was escorted from the chamber. "Leave us," O'Hara commanded to those remaining and the chamber was soon emptied as Officers dashed for the door. O'Hara could hear a woman's weeping start up from outside, Harmony's distressed sobs at seeing her lover dragged away were muffled when the office door was closed behind the last of the Officers.

"You should be aware," O'Hara began, voice soft, his eyes not leaving those of the Colonel's. "That, after an extensive search, Lieutenant Farshaw has been found. Alive. And, after an extensive and very revealing discussion with Lieutenant Farshaw, I have decided to remove him from your command to my headquarters."

William lifted his chin and stared down his nose, but said not a word of defiance.

"As we speak, his belongings are being stowed for the journey to the Ferguson household. His wife will leave here, to reside with her husband."

"Then you have sentenced her to a life of torment," William replied sharply. "For he will beat her, every day for the rest of their lives. And the baby will be lost, I do not doubt it."

"Farshaw understands what is expected of him," O'Hara countered. "I have made it clear to him what his behaviour should be and I informed him if he falls short of what I expect, he will be returned to your command, a fate he is terrified of after last night. He will not beat his wife again, Tavington further, with Major Bordon no longer able to interfere in their marriage, Farshaw will have no reason to. He only did so, upon discovering his wife's affair, which you had a hand in facilitating," this last was said such asperity, warning William he was on dangerous ground indeed.

"He was forthcoming with you then?" William asked.

"Quite," O'Hara replied.

"And did he tell you that he raped his wife, before beating her? He took her roughly, up against a tree. Her back is bruised, her skin grazed the length of her body."

"While that particular method of coupling is distasteful," O'Hara sniffed, "a husband can not rape his wife. Her consent is assured the moment she pledges to him her troth and her obedience, in her wedding vows."

"I would never force myself on Beth, if she were not willing, and I would never lay with her in such a manner as to cause her pain," William stubbornly maintained.

"Then that makes you a better husband than it makes him," O'Hara shrugged. "What he did was not unlawful. What you have done, however - now that is what I have come here to discuss."

"What have I done?" William spat, marching forward to stand before O'Hara. Now came the challenge, the General thought. He'd been expecting it, and he was ready. "I've kept a woman I care for safe from the degradations of a base born bastard! Every thing I have done was to protect Harmony - a woman I consider a close family friend! I was trying to protect hers and Bordon's child! Was I remiss in my actions?"

"You most certainly were," O'Hara replied so softly, William would not have heard him had he not been standing so close. The Colonel's eyes widened and he took a full step back. "What you have done…" O'Hara shook his head, he breathed steadily, slowly, trying with difficulty to remain calm. "You have abused your authority. You have taken a man from another Regiment with the sole purpose of commanding him and controlling him for your own ends. You have assisted Major Bordon, providing him with the means needed to facilitate adultery, which, I remind you, is a crime against God! That was ill done, William! I must say I'm quite disgusted with Mrs. Tavington, that she would allow you to use her friendship with Mrs. Farshaw in such a conspiracy!"

"Beth had nothing to do with it," Tavington said, relieved that in this, he could speak truthfully. There was no need to lie in his defence of Beth. "I never involved her, she only discovered it while she was tending Harmony's bruises. Beth has had to bathe Harmony's back three times already, the skin is -"

"Ripped raw, so you said," O'Hara cut in. "Do not seek to exploit Mrs. Farshaw's wounds as a means to defend your actions. I am sympathetic toward her for what she suffered, but I blame you for that suffering. I hold you to account, Sir, for if she had not dallied with another man in an affair that you helped to make possible, she would not have been beaten at all."

William's stone cold face reddened with the slow flush of rage.

"Do you understand the depths of what you have done? I will have no choice but to inform Lord Cornwallis of all that has happened here. Your ability to command the British Legion will now be bought into question!"

"I am a damned fine commander, as you well know," Tavington defended himself in a softly intent tone. "You are quite short of officers of my calibre. Who would replace me, if I was relieved of command?"

"Banastre Tarleton matches you in every way," O'Hara said, voice blunt. "He has not yet lost a battle and furthermore, he has done nothing to lose my favour. From this point forward, while you will hold the post of Commandant of the British Legion, all commands are to come through me." William's eyes bulged at this and he seemed to stop breathing. Good. O'Hara was finally getting through to him.

"You would curb my authority?" Tavington rasped out, filled with frustration.

"Ah, finally he understands," O'Hara mused as if to himself. "After you have abused it so, you have left me with no other recourse! You have no idea just how damaging your actions have been, do you? Damaging to your own career, that is. I will not leave you in command, William. I dare not. Not after the way you have comported yourself and abused your authority."

"I'll be a laughing stock!" William's face darkened with fury. "The 'Pretender Colonel', they'll call me; the Commandant who could not wipe his own arse without permission!"

"No, not many will know of the restrictions I will be placing upon you - and believe me the one I just stipulated will be the first of many. But yes, Tavington, for the foreseeable future, you will be nothing more than a figurehead - a puppet only."

Tavington stared, his jaw working as he ground his teeth. It was a disaster. "For how long?" He finally asked, struggling to form the words.

"Until my faith in you is restored," came O'Hara's reply. "Farshaw shall remain in my command until then. I am at the edge of my patience with you, Colonel Tavington. I caution you to do nothing to tip me over that edge."

Tavington finally drew a much needed breath. Carefully, in a voice colder than a winter's night, he asked, "how long is Bordon to remain in confinement?"

"Until I have conferred with Cornwallis and we have decided if he is to be courtmartialed," he replied bluntly. Tavington's eyes widened to saucers. "Did you truly believe I'd let such actions as his just… slide?" O'Hara asked incredulously. "Be thankful that you are not joining him there, you too could be facing a court martial just now! You disobeyed my orders, challenging my Captain who came to arrest Bordon," O'Hara's voice was sharp and Tavington averted his gaze, knowing damned well he'd misstepped. O'Hara turned on his heel and marched from the office, leaving the Colonel alone. The hallway was blessedly silent - no weeping and no Mrs. Farshaw. His men must have acted on his commands swiftly and she would no doubt be at the Ferguson Manor by now. Mrs. Tavington still stood by the stairs, wringing her hands as O'Hara approached.

"I suspect your husband needs you, Mrs. Tavington," he informed her as he past her by. Her eyes widened, and she darted past him down the hall and into the office. He inclined his head briefly toward Captain Wilkins' wife, who was quite pale in the face and looked on the verge of fainting. Finally, he stepped outside again and called for his horse.

"She is not far, but she might as well be on the moon for all I can reach her now," Richard lamented to William, who had been allowed to visit him in the small, heavily guarded outhouse. He was being treated to similar accommodations as had been provided to Benjamin Martin - a converted out house, though this one was on Ferguson's Plantation, in O'Hara's domain. At least he was not in irons, and he did have a cot and blankets, he even had a wash basin and a ewer of fresh water, but that was about all. A chamber pot beneath the cot. Nothing else.

"Yes," William agreed. "We've failed her, Richard."

"Jesus. I wish I'd killed him the other night," the Major replied grimly, lowering himself to his cot and dropping his face in his hands. "I can't believe that after all of this, she's forced to be with him again, only this time she won't even have the respite of being with me. Will I ever see her again?" This was said so forlornly that William felt his heart go out to the other man.

"God willing, he'll die in battle," William replied. "There'll be plenty of those. I wish we'd been sent to Camden, I would have put the bastard in the front line."

"You should have sent him with Wilkins. Farshaw is an assistant of an administrator now, William," Bordon said, voice filled with asperity. "When the devil will an assistant of an administrator ever find himself in the thick of battle?" He lifted his head, met William's eyes. The Colonel had no answer for him. "And he is no longer ours to command," Richard continued. "We can't ensure that he's in the thick of the fighting, we can't place him within the hottest fire. He is free to torment Harmony -"

"No, he is not," William cut in quickly. "That is one thing I was able to make certain of. O'Hara told me that he's made it perfectly clear to Farshaw that he will not tolerate any more violence against Harmony. I believe he will end up in irons, if he should try it."

"That's something, at least," Bordon said softly. He stared at the wall for several long moments, before giving himself a shake. "Well. That's that then."

"What do you mean?" William frowned.

"It's done. As I said, I'll never see her again. Farshaw will not die in battle, for he won't ever be sent into one. He will live to a ripe old age, he'll probably outlive Harmony. She'll never be a widow, and without that, she'll never be free to marry me. She'll never be mine, William. It's done, we're finished."

"You don't truly believe that," William chided gently. "O'Hara indicated this transfer is only temporary. I don't think he wants to be saddled with Farshaw anymore than we do. We can still send him to the thick of battle, you can't believe this is the end."

"To believe otherwise is folly. It's dangerous. It gives me too much hope and that causes me to act rashly. Look at the mess I've created - and I've dragged you down with me. Your authority is dust, you will be humiliated if that is made public. And Harmony has been taken from me, yet again, this time with no hope of even being able to gaze upon one another. If I go within ten yards of her, I'll be thrown in irons again, O'Hara told me this himself. That's if I survive the court-martial, if he holds one. It would be worth it for me, to see her even if I'm thrown back into jail, but it would be distressing for Harmony. You should have seen her when I was dragged from your office."

"I didn't need to see her, I could hear her and that was bad enough."

"She was distraught. I can't put her through that again. For her sake, and yours, I need to obey O'Hara this time, and stay away from her. I must walk small - he said I was on thin ice…"

"We both are," William walked to the small window and peered outside. All he could see was a stand of large oaks and part of an empty, harvested cornfield.

"I won't see you lose your position because of me," Bordon said firmly. "I won't. As much as I love her, I draw the line there. After everything you've done for me…" He shook his head, his voice was filled with emotion.

"Your position is every bit as precarious as mine," William pointed out and Bordon nodded.

"Tell me, is Beth wroth with us?" Bordon asked.

"She understood, when I explained it to her. She even said she would have approved, and her invitations to dinner would have been more frequent."

Bordon's laugh was bitter. "I should have known. Not that it would have changed anything, except that she would have been dragged down with us."

"Yes, she's the only one who still holds O'Hara's favour. I'm certain the only reason I've been invited to dine with him tonight is because he wishes to spend more time with Beth," William finally turned to Bordon and gazed down at his friend solemnly. "Perhaps through Beth, I can chip away at him to see you freed."

"No," Bordon threw his arms up, waving his hands in front of him to ward off that suggestion. "Let O'Hara's anger run its natural course. What will be will be - I do not want you thrown in here with me. This cell is too small for the both of us."

William smiled weakly at Bordon's poor attempt at humour.

"Let us hope," the Colonel began, "that nothing else occurs to sink us deeper in the mire. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"A bottle of whiskey?" Though he was in the depths of despair, Bordon tried for humour again, for he did not want William fretting for him. "Will O'Hara allow Beth to see Harmony?"

"Because she was not involved in our little conspiracy, yes, she is allowed to visit with Harmony. Though Farshaw will be keeping an awfully close eye on them, I suspect," William curled his lip. "When he gets out of the infirmary that is. You worked him over quite well, by all reports."

"As I said, he should have bloody died," Bordon sighed sullenly. William agreed. It came time for the Colonel to leave and he bid Bordon farewell, with a promise to return in the morning.