Chapter 88 - Mrs. Putman - Bordon:

The parlour door opened and Mila announced that the Dragoons had been sighted, they were almost at the carriage way. The women were on their feet at once, reaching for shawls and capes which were thrown hastily around their shoulders, then they glided outside to stand on the porch and wait, just as the Dragoons turned into the long lane. Beth's eyes were on William at the head of the column and she sighed, warmth flooding her. She'd missed him immensely since he'd been gone, even though it had only been a couple of days. As he galloped closer, she could see his eyes were on her, he had picked her out amongst the women, just as she had picked him out amongst his Dragoons. She did glance toward Bordon and was relieved to find him in their midst, she'd feared he was summoned to Camden to be courtmartialed and what would become of him if he was found guilty. That he was here must mean he must have passed whatever trial he'd been put to, but she could see even from a distance that he did not look overly happy about it.

Wilkins was among the returning men as well - it stood to reason that the Regiment William had sent to fight at Camden would return with him when he did. Which meant Samuel must be with them as well - Gods, she was going to give him the rough side of her tongue for leaving with Captain Gordon. After squeezing him as tight as she could, first. When the British Legion forces left Fresh Water to reinforce Camden, Captain Gordon's unit had gone with them. Later in the evening, hours after their departure, Beth had discovered that Samuel had vanished from the Plantation.

She knew he was with Gordon but to this day, she had no idea how he'd left. If he'd stowed away with the wagons carrying supplies, or if Gordon had disguised him as one of his soldiers and simply marched him off the Plantation. Considering the bond that had sprung up between them, she suspected the latter. Either way, Samuel would soon be home and by God, she wasn't ever going to let him out of her sight again.

Leaving a stone faced Bordon behind, William's horse broke away from the rest of the column and he thundered toward her, stopping sharply when he reached the porch. Smiling, she trotted down the steps as he jumped from the saddle, his boots kicking up dirt as he trotted those last steps toward her. And then she was in his arms again, hers thrown around his shoulders as he pulled her tightly to him. And then his lips were on hers, chasing all thought away.

"Hmm," he murmured against her lips. "I can still make you swoon, can't I?"

"You brute," she said breathlessly. "Put me down."

He grinned at her, then turned her about in a full circle, her feet hovering a full yard from the ground.

"Your shoes will get dirty," he kissed her again. "Better that I hold you."

"It's always better that you hold me," she snuggled against him, her lips raining light kisses on his neck. A moment later she was set on her feet - on the first step of the porch to keep her shoes from the dirt. He was still facing her, still with his hands on her waist and hers on his shoulders, as he inclined his head in greeting toward the women standing behind her. "Did you bring Samuel home?" She asked and he blanched. "William, where is Samuel?" She asked more sharply.

"My darling, I… I am told he is fine - he is with Captain Gordon still. And Gordon has been detached to another infantry unit, by command of Lord Cornwallis."

"Dear God!" Beth gasped. Bordon had caught up and he was already dismounting, a groom waiting to take his and Tavington's horses away.

"I'm doing all I can to have him returned, love," William said. "I promise, he is in no danger."

"I just… I want to throttle him, he should never have run off like that!" Beth said, furious and frustrated and worried.

"I know," William agreed. "I will do all I can, on my honour. I know you're worried, but.. There's other things happening just now. Can you set is aside? Please? For a moment?"

William wouldn't ask that of her, not if it wasn't absolutely important. A little taken aback, Beth nodded. She met Richard's eyes over William's shoulder, and when he bowed to her in greeting, she saw that his jaw was working, his eyes were tight. Wilkins had arrived by now and astonishingly, when he dismounted, he greeted his sister, then went to directly to stand at Emily's side. Even Emily seemed taken aback. His expression was… Urgent.

"Ladies," Tavington's bow took in them all - Emily, Rebecca, Sarah and Beth. "Major Bordon has an announcement."

"What is the announcement? Was there a court-martial?" Beth asked Bordon, fearing the worst again.

"There was a… trial… of sorts," Bordon replied bleakly. He shot a glance at Tavington, who gave a commanding jut of his chin, to continue. "As you are aware," Richard began, his face was far too pale and his lips were bloodless. "When we were in the city, Colonel Tavington and I had the occasion to question Mr. Mark Putman. Your uncle," he said to Beth, whose shoulders slumped. She looked down, miserable at the reminder. "Well. It placed Miss Putman in quite a precarious position," Richard continued and Beth threw her head back up, her eyes wide. Rebecca looked as concerned, Rebecca and Cilla's blood connection was a little further than Beth and Cilla's, but they were still cousins.

"My cousin? What is wrong with my cousin?" Beth asked.

"Nothing. It just… her father's property was seized - his house, his money, his business's, everything. Mrs. Putman went to her brother, Christopher Middleton -" he glanced at Rebecca, who herself was a Middleton. "He took exception to Miss Putman's situation - she could no longer claim her inheritance, because it was seized before her father died. He took exception to other matters as well, and he travelled to Camden to lay them before Lord Cornwallis, chiefly his reluctance to provide for his niece when she had so much of her own wealth tied up in politics." He was staring straight ahead as he delivered this speech, barely making eye contact with the women at all. Beth began to fidget as she wondered what Richard was driving at. "As you are aware, I was summoned to Camden for my… for the recent unpleasantness with Lieutenant Farshaw," he said which Beth thought was an understatement. His face was still marred with healing bruises and there was a long blemish across his neck where Farshaw had tried to use Richard's own cravat to choke him. "Being in a less than favourable position with Lord Cornwallis, a decision was made that will - Cornwallis and O'Hara both hope - settle both mine and Miss Putman's situations." He drew a ragged breath, then announced, "yesterday morning, it was decided - by Miss Putman and I - that we would marry."

"Marry!" Beth gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. She shared stunned looks with her friends. "You and Cilla are getting married?"

"No, Mrs. Tavington. Cilla and I are married," he replied with the voice of death. Beth's eyes bulged. "Mr. Middleton wanted Miss Putman - Mrs. Bordon, that is, taken off his hands. Cornwallis wanted me settled back on my heels, it is his belief that a wife would keep me out of trouble." Beth took a step to one side where she leaned on the balustrade, one hand pressed to her stomach. It was then that she realised that there was a carriage approaching. It was still quite a way back but was clearly approaching Fresh Water. The Dragoons hardly ever travelled with carriages, such conveyances only slowed them down. Bordon was still speaking. "On the condition that she marry a British Officer, Cornwallis will release to Cilla her inheritance and a dowry from her late father's estate. In doing this, in marrying me, Cilla will be able to reside here with you, Mrs. Tavington, a thing she desperately wants to do."

"I don't understand," Beth whispered. "You and Cilla. Married?" She glanced at the approaching carriage, it was so much closer now. "Is Cilla… Oh my God, is that her now? And her mother? Her mother! You and her mother were -"

"Beth!" William's voice cracked like a whip and Beth snapped her mouth shut, realising what she was about to say - what she was about to reveal - in front of all the other women.

"This is insane. It's madness. You and Cilla can not be married!" For so many reasons, that was true. How could they be married? What of Cilla's hatred of the British, what of her spying? What of Bordon's affair with Mage? What about Harmony, the woman he truly loved? How in the world would he be able to dedicate himself to Cilla, when his heart was already taken elsewhere? And Cilla… How could she possibly find peace with a husband who tortured her father?

No, this was madness. Cilla and Richard?

"Their options were few," Tavington said, taking up the explanation. "Mr. Middleton did not want the financial responsibility of his niece. He made it clear that he was going to abandon her in Camden, that her situation was Cornwallis' fault and his too fix. He said Cilla was now Lord Cornwallis' concern and none of his."

"He was just going to abandon her there?" Beth asked incredulously.

"He did abandon her there. He just up and left. Now, Cornwallis has never been inclined to bargain with traitors, but Major Bordon has earned the ire of his Commanders. He was directly involved in the questioning of Mr. Putman, and our Commanders were not entirely well pleased with the… methods… that were used. Major Bordon was there in Camden to answer for his attack on Lieutenant Farshaw, and he became the most likely candidate to take Miss Putman off Mr. Middleton's hands."

"Good God, don't say it like that!" Beth snapped, anger stirring. "She's not a dog to be taken off someone's hands and passed along to another!"

"They weren't my words, Beth; that's how he put it. Mr. Middleton. He proposed the idea that Cornwallis find Cilla a British husband, and to release her inheritance to her for their financial needs. Lord Cornwallis decided that Major Bordon - who he believed was in want of a wife to tame his rough edges - fit the need perfectly. He suggested the match to Bordon and Bordon, wanting to appease his Commanders, agreed. Miss Putman, who did not want to be abandoned penniless and alone, also agreed. Captain Wilkins and I were witnesses at the wedding. I understand this has come as a great shock to you all, but… that is what has happened. Beth, is there a bath waiting for me, my love?"

"There is," Beth breathed.

"Then perhaps Mrs. Bordon can make use of it, yes?"

"Mrs. Bordon… My cousin is Mrs. Bordon," Beth shook herself, then nodded. "Gods, is she alright, Richard? Have you -" she cut short, she couldn't ask if he and Cilla had lain together, to consummate the marriage. They must have done by now - Gods, poor Cilla; bedding a man she could never love, a man she never would have chosen for herself.

"Have I what?" Bordon asked.

Beth couldn't ask it, it was none of her damned business. Instead, her eyes narrowed and she asked pointedly, "is my aunt with her?"

"I would not have a clue where her mother is," Richard said, replying with more sharpness than Beth's question warranted.

The carriage was almost in front of the house, now. Tavington marched the rest of the way up the steps, passed the women, and strode into the house. Beth heard him speak to a servant about having a second bath drawn.

"Good God. Well, as unexpected as this is… Congratulations, Sir," Emily said, eyeing Bordon, the fellow she'd once hoped to snag. She wondered if he and Cilla had consummated their marriage, and when. They were married only in the last day or two, but Emily thought the pair must have already screwed one another back in the city. All this talk about Mr. Middleton demanding Lord Cornwallis find Cilla a husband - it could not have been merely because her family was in rebellion and Cilla was set adrift. That was why the fortunes of rebels were seized in the first place, it was a deterrent against rebelling. The Crown wasn't about to coddle children from those families - that was for the parents to do, and they were to do so by choosing their side wisely. And all this about Bordon happening to be in Camden when Cilla arrived, that he was the most likely candidate because he'd beaten Farshaw to pulp? And because he'd tortured a spy? No. He was summoned to Camden because of Cilla. Because he'd fucked her and… because Cilla was pregnant. Dear Lord, it must be so; what else could it possibly be? She gave Bordon a slow, knowing smile.

Seeing it, all expression disappeared from his face and he turned his back on her to wait for the carriage.

Emily stifled a laugh. Gods, the other girls were so utterly naive. Even Beth, which surprised Emily, for Beth was married and she fucked her husband nightly. But here she was, naive little innocent that she was, looking perplexed, as if trying to figure out what to Emily, was as plain as the nose on her face.

Cilla Putman had given up her maidenhead to Bordon back in Charlestown and she was now carrying his child.

That was why James had come to stand at Emily's side, she could feel his tension - their marriage was troubled to be sure, but she knew he was dying to tell her.

It was why Middleton was being so insistent. It was why Bordon was the most likely candidate. Gods, these children were ignorant, Emily thought as her eyes bore into Bordon's back. Damned wretch of a man, he'd fuck anything that moved - even Cilla Putman, yet he disdained to bed her? Screw him. She had a new lover now, anyway. And Gods, what a man he was. She lifted her eyes from Richard's back and gazed at the approaching carriage.

Beth was still fixed on Richard. She eyed his stiff back for several long moments, before stepping off the step to stand at his side. She peered up at his profile, and saw him swallow, but he would not look at her. Beth slid her arm through his, causing a shudder to go through his body.

"O'Hara wouldn't even let me go tell Harmony in person," he whispered, voice wretched. "It needs to come from someone who cares for her, damn it!"

"I'll go to her," Beth vowed. "But probably not until tomorrow. Cilla…" Her eyes shifted to the carriage as the driver drew rein, bringing it to a halt. "Aren't you going to open the door?" She whispered up at Bordon, giving him a slight nudge. "I know you love Harmony and this is all very confusing, but please - don't show my cousin disrespect, Richard."

He nodded and stepped forward. He pulled the door open and held out his hand, but Cilla disdained to accept his assistance as she stepped down from the carriage onto the ground, unaided. Her fingers gripping her silk skirts, she took a step toward Beth, then stopped short, her face pale and suddenly uncertain. With a cry of joy, Beth raced forward, heedless of her shoes and the dirt, and threw her arms around Cilla's shoulders.

Cilla, being received so warmly, felt like fainting with relief. Her eyes filled and she began to cry as the cousins clung to one another. Sarah and Rebecca, both smiling, both believing Cilla's tears to be tears of joy, stepped down off the porch to take turns greeting their friend. Which meant Emily was forced to do so, also. Her lips twisted as she stared down at the muck beneath her delicate shoes, but she picked her way carefully until she, too, could embrace Cilla.

Beth glanced over her shoulder to speak to Bordon, but found that he was no where to be seen.

James cocked his head at Emily and together, they strode for the stairs. They did not stop until they were in their chamber, James closing the door behind them.

"He bedded her, didn't he?" Emily asked, her skirts flying about her legs as she turned to her husband. "Back in the city. She's with child."

James began to laugh. "I came to the exact same conclusion. I'm almost certain of it. The rest, that was all rot, what Tavington and Bordon were saying. Why would Cornwallis make Bordon marry Miss Putman as punishment for what he did to Farshaw? And why would Miss Putman accept him? If she was cast adrift from her uncle merely because he did not want to support her, she could have come here to her cousin - she and Mrs. Tavington have always been close. It's not as though she didn't have any other family and was entirely reliant on Middleton. Gods, Mrs. Selton would have taken her in. And Martin, if Miss Putman could have found him. There's Henrietta Rutledge, another cousin. Rebecca Middleton. They wouldn't have cared if she had no fortune, they would have taken care of her. Unless she behaved in such a way that her virtue was compromised," James tossed his head. "It's just so obvious. Middleton didn't turn her out because he didn't want to provide her with clothes and food. He turned her away because she dallied with Bordon. It must be so. Why else would she marry him? She's got Patriot leanings, that one. I'm almost certain she'd have preferred to hedge her bets, than to marry Bordon, you know? No one knows what the outcome of this war will be. If we fail and the American's have their way, Miss Putman would get her inheritance back immediately, especially with the help of her uncle. She would have waited, unless waiting was absolutely not an option."

"Because she's carrying Bordon's child. You don't have to convince me, James. Why would she choose him though, do you think?" Emily poured her husband a glass of whiskey, then went and sat on the bed. He joined her there.

"Not for his damned looks, for he has none," James laughed. "I don't know, Emily. I've got no clue as to how he does it. Lord, he's bedded the mother and the daughter. Their family gatherings are going to be one hell of a hoot."

Emily nodded. James had already told her of Bordon and Mage's affair - he did enjoy his gossip. It was another kick to the stomach, this reminder. She recalled the day she flirted with Bordon, for she'd hoped to start something with him herself. Perhaps she hadn't been clear enough? It didn't matter, she knew it wasn't her, she was beautiful - Calvin told her every time they saw one another.

"So," Emily grinned at James. "How was the wedding?"

James laughed again. "Gods, it was a somber affair. I've never seen a more reluctant pair in my life. I have no idea what made them bed one another in the first place, for they clearly want nothing to do with each other. What ever went on between them… well, suffice it to say, they are not happy about their current situation." He continued to chat, telling Emily all about it. She rose, began to pull off his boots, one and then the other. He finished his glass, she replenished it. She locked the door and, as he trailed off, she began to disrobe. He arched an eyebrow.

"It's all this talk of bedding," she shrugged. She turned and waited, holding her breath to see what he would do. Reject her? She'd never been as blatant as this before, she never approached him for coupling. But she had too, for God knew, it could be months before he approached her for it. It was with relief when she felt his fingers pulling at her stays. Unless there'd been doxies up at Camden, it'd likely been a few days for him. He'd had the whiskey and was in a good mood, she couldn't have been handed a more perfect time. Her stays became suddenly heavier as the panels fell away from her back. She placed them on the table, then reached behind her back to pull the drawstring tied there. She stepped out of her skirts and petticoats, then went to stand before him in only her short shift and stockings. The sight of her like this made Calvin's mouth go dry. Yet here was James, watching her, his eyes narrowed, as if he were fighting arousal. Why the hell would he fight it? She had no idea what was bloody wrong with him - he fucked doxies readily enough but was repulsed by her? Well, stuff him. Calvin enjoyed her, and other men before him had also. Frustrated, she said, "this is getting ridiculous. You speak of Bordon and Cilla being the most reluctant couple you've ever seen - perhaps you should look in the mirror?" She asked and he arched an eyebrow. "You're not the one that gets the lecture from your mother whenever I see her. 'Why haven't you given me grandchildren yet?', as though it's somehow a failing on my part. If only she knew; you come to me so rarely that at this rate, it'll be ten years before I conceive. I came on this ridiculous excursion to do my duty by you and give you an heir, but you're making my hardships a waste of time. I might as well return to Charlestown. But if I do, James, I'll be telling my parents and your mother the reason why. I can't get a child on myself, you know," she cocked her head, her own eyes narrowing. "Well, I could, but I don't think you'd much like raising a bastard, would you?"

James heaved a breath. He rose and began unbuttoning his breeches. Emily tried to force the scowl from her face - neither of them would be up to the task if they were irritated. Then again, she didn't have to enjoy it with him - that was what Calvin was for.

"You know, I hear all sorts of rumours about you, James," she said when he pulled off his breeches and was now removing his green jacket.

"Oh?"

"Of what a wonderful lover you are. I'm your wife, we've been married for three years, and I'm yet to see evidence of it."

James gave her a startled look. She arched her eyebrows, then pulled her shift over her head. "I've heard you're exceptionally skilled, you have your lovers in the throes of passion, and in the depths of despair when you leave them. Again, I've seen no evidence to support this. I've started to wonder, James. Perhaps it's not your prowess in bed so much as your generosity afterward, yes? You do pay those women quite well." She was naked now except her stockings, and she laid herself out on the bed.

"Yes, Emily, that's right. Those are all the right things to say to a man, just before coupling. Just perfect," He said, voice dripping sarcasm. He was naked now also.

"Yes, and you scowling at me when I offer myself up to you, you fighting your own arousal for God knows what reason, that's precisely what I need, as well," she shot back. "I was hoping that perhaps we might be able to enjoy each other this time with you being in such a good mood and all, but if this is the way you want it, then this is the way it shall be. I don't need to be impressed by you, I don't need to know first hand of your prowess in bed, I don't need pleasure from you. I'm just your wife," She said bitingly. "There's no need for me to enjoy it at all. You can save that side of yourself for your doxies."

"Just shut it," he scowled as he climbed on top of her. "Christ, Emily, you talk to damned much."

"Fine, I shall simply lay here with my legs spread until you're done," she replied. "Just how you clearly like it."

He stared down at her, shocked. Honestly, did he think she didn't want to enjoy it, too? Did he think wives weren't supposed to? Lord, he'd heard Tavington and Beth going at it, surely? She shook her head and tightened her lips.

"Just do it. Maybe this time you'll get me with child and your mother will stop bloody nagging me," Emily said, turning her face away. Again, James said nothing. For a moment, Emily worried that she'd pushed him too far, that his arousal would have dissipated, he would not be able to bed her. She needed him to - not for the pleasure, but in case Farshaw got her with child. She was relieved when she felt his prick at her entrance. To assist, she angled her pelvis up, making it easier for him to glide on in.

Beth had questions. A hundred and fifty of them. No, a thousand. Cilla and Bordon - married. It was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard in her entire life. Cilla and Bordon. It was just too shocking to give any credence. She sat ensconced in her father's favourite chair in the parlour, staring into the fire place, utterly stunned.

"It's just… It's all so sudden," Sarah Wilkins said. She and Rebecca were seated across from James and Emily, who had just rejoined them. Cilla would soon be finished with her bath and Tavington was still taking his. Bordon was… Beth didn't even know where Bordon was. "I never would have thought Cilla would agree to marry a British Officer."

"I don't think my uncle would have cared who Cilla married – he'd likely have preferred a rebel, being one himself," Rebecca sniffed disdainfully. "But you heard Colonel Tavington, Lord Cornwallis would only release her inheritance if she married one of his own."

"I did hear, but it still is so outrageous," Sarah said.

"I agree," Beth said, frowning. "They are the most unlikely pair. There are hundreds of British Officers; Bordon can't be the only bachelor among them."

"I don't know what Lord Cornwallis is thinking," Sarah said. "To marry Cilla off to the man who tortured her father…"

"And what sort of a wretch is my uncle, to not even look after his own family?" Rebecca asked, infuriated. "To take Cilla to Camden and leave her there. To wipe his hands of her. As if she's not going through enough – with her father passing. And where is her mother?"

Beth saw James and Emily exchange a knowing glance and with horror, she realized they knew the truth as well – that Mage had been having an affair with Bordon back in the city. Bordon's argument with Harmony had been rather loud, others in the house had heard it. They would have discussed it with people that weren't there – people such as James Wilkins. Who had in turn told his wife. Beth wanted to clout him, that was her family he was gossiping about.

"And what sort of wedding was that? To have so few in attendance and none of them family. Cilla deserved far more than that," Sarah said. "Fine, I am over the shock and can finally accept that they are married, but the suddenness of it!" Sarah shook her head. "It would have been enough to become engaged and then marry after the Banns were read, surely?"

"I just… I can't see how this has happened!" Rebecca said. "Cilla of all people. With Major Bordon!"

"After all he's gone through with Harmony," Beth added. "I know he loves her. I feel wretched for Cilla, being married to a man whose heart is already taken."

"She can't be in love with him, can she?" Becky frowned. "Cilla and a British Officer… No, she never would have entertained the thought! This is marriage is one of convenience only."

"You don't have to be in love to be married," Emily agreed, shooting James a significant look. "You don't even have to like each other." She saw his jaw begin to work, she'd never confronted him before, and here she was, doing it in public. She sensed the other girls shifting with discomfort and her face flushed red. Not with embarrassment - it was with fury. Fucking James, he'd made it so obvious from the start, his complete and utter disdain for her. "Even when the wife has done absolutely nothing to deserve it," she said, rising abruptly and marching across the room to the window. She could feel eyes boring into her back. She heard Sarah's tentative, embarrassed voice behind her.

"Perhaps there is some kinship between them? Enough for them to agree to this. Cilla was grieving her father, after he fled the city. None of us were able to be there for her. She might have been in such a wretched state, that she looked for comfort -"

"From a British Officer?" Becky asked, then shook her head in disbelief.

"Who else was there for her, except British Officers?" Beth mused. "There was no-one but Redcoats, day and night, except her mother. But…" Cilla must have heard the argument too, Lord, she must have known her mother had bedded Richard. She would be wroth her mother for that. And with Richard. He would be the last person she'd turn too… "I just can't make heads or tails out of it. I guess… I guess it doesn't matter, the how. Or the why. We don't understand it, but it's happened and she needs us. Our cousin," she said to Rebecca. "Our friend," she said to the others. "She needs us, all of us."

Emily turned slowly from the window, her eyes on Beth.

"She's bound to be wretched," Beth said, her eyes taking in Sarah, Rebecca and Emily all at once. "Her father is dead - she will still be grieving his loss. And now she's separated from her mother. She will need us, all of us."

"I couldn't agree more," Becky said, her questioning eyes shifting to Sarah, who nodded firm agreement.

"Of course," Emily said, agreeing wholeheartedly. "However, there is the matter of Mrs. Farshaw… Do we tell Cilla about her, then?"

"Cil knows about Harmony," Beth frowned.

"Back in the city, she knew," Emily nodded. "But I doubt she knows of more recent events. Surely she deserves to know that her new husband has continued his affair until recently and that his heart - as you say, Beth - belongs elsewhere." Emily locked eyes with her husband. "If she believes her husband cares for her, only to discover somewhere along the line that he most certainly does not, she will become bitter indeed." James eyes widened as far as they would go; he rose abruptly and strode from the room.

"I… I guess we should," Beth frowned at James as he made his abrupt departure. "She does deserve to know. She also needs to be made aware so that she can steel herself against the camp gossip."

She glanced at the other women, and each of them nodded agreement.

Sitting on the side of the bed, Harmony read the contents of Richard's letter by the yellow glow of the candle. Brownlow had delivered it a short while earlier. Now she sat there, staring blindly. Covering her mouth with one hand, she keened as agony shot through her. The letter in her hand quickly became soaked in places, the inked words bleeding. Hot tears burned her eyes, leaving ruddy trails down her cheeks. It was difficult to breathe suddenly, around the heavy weight settling onto her chest. Her hands trembled.

Christ, how could he? Married. Richard was married. She swallowed hard and shook her head slowly, disbelieving. Her eyes scanned the letter again, it was far more difficult to read now through the blur of tears, and the words were all blending together as the parchment became sodden. But it was all there in his own hand. How much he despised himself for the pain he knew it would cause her. His plea for forgiveness, another plea that she be strong and a final promise, that he would never bed his wife.

Too late for that! He'd already bedded her once, at some stage, for how else could she be carrying his child? It was shockingly painful, to learn of yet another of his indiscretions from their days in Charlestown. There had been many of those, she knew, and she had decided to forgive him a long time ago. But now one of them had come forward, her belly filled with his child and now Richard was lost to Harmony forever. A weakness entered her every muscle and she felt too dizzy to remain upright. Curling onto her side, she cried into the pillow, feeling wretched and broken inside.

She flinched, giving a start when the door opened and Calvin strode in. She quickly shoved the letter beneath the pillow as he rounded the bed, a small smile curving his bruised lips.

"Ah, I see you've heard the news then," he smirked, staring down at her as she quickly dashed at her eyes with her sleeve. She pinched her lips together to keep them from trembling. "Ah yes, you've heard," he laughed. "My poor wife. I guess he didn't love you after all, huh?" He perched himself on the side of the bed, moving carefully because of his sore ribs, and she lay rigid, tensing. "Damned bastard nearly beats me to death over you, and then he up and marries some other chit. That's everlasting love for you, huh? Fucking bastard. Well, at least I don't have to worry that he'll try and corner you for a quick rut again. I'm warnin' you, Harm, you better keep those damned cheeks dry when you leave this room. I won't have you cryin' over him for all to see."

She continued to hold her silence, not trusting her voice. Richard… Oh God… She squeezed her eyes shut, her throat constricting tightly.

"If you ask me, it is simple fuckin' justice," he glared down at her. "You deserve this. You spread your legs for that bastard as soon as me back's turned, and now that he's forced to stay away from you, he's gone and forgotten you. She's wealthy too, I'm told. He's married far higher than you. Got himself twenty thousand pounds - that's what her inheritance is. That was all it took to turn his head. A pretty genteel wife with a nice tidy fortune."

"Go to hell, Calvin," she whispered, barely able to find her voice.

"Is that the best you can do?" He laughed down at her. "Christ look at you, you're like a broken doll."

The bed rose back up as his weight was lifted off and she heard his boots cross the room, then the door clicking shut behind him. Despairing, she let loose the dam she'd only just been managing to hold inside of her.

Mila had come to assist Cilla out of her clothes. She sat at a small table in only her loose fitting shift, while Mila worked her hair, brushing until it gleamed in the candlelight. Afterward, Mila folded the petticoats, skirt, bodice and stays, and had told Cilla that she would take them away for laundering. When the door closed behind the maid, Cilla had still been sitting there, stiffly, perched on the edge of the bed, staring into the merrily burning fire.

The evening had been a confusion of emotions. Fear of Bordon. Cilla had been so relieved when he didn't dined with the women that evening, though she'd received some strange looks from Becky, Sarah and Emily, who were clearly startled by Bordon's absence. Their third night of marriage, and he didn't even dine with her? Though she had not enjoyed their speculative looks, Cilla had preferred for Bordon to be absent. She was with her friends again - none of them were shunning her, she was welcomed by them.

Celeste and Christopher, her own family, had put her out, but with her cousins and her friends, she had a place in the world still. And with Bordon's absence, there had been no horrid, dark shadow cast on the evening. Of course there were the questioning glances, Emily stared boldly at Cilla's stomach, trying to discern a tell tale increasing there. At times, the conversation became stilted as one or other of the girls tried to leave openings for Cilla to confide to them the affair she must have had with Bordon. She'd known from the start that people would think that - that she, Cilla, had been the willing participant in a pre-marital affair. Did they truly think so low of her, that that would be their first and only assumption?

Did it not enter into any of their heads that perhaps, just maybe, Bordon had forced her? Why was that not a scenario any of them thought to consider? No. They assumed that Cilla and Richard had had an affair, which meant they must consider her to be of low virtue indeed. Her own friends and cousins thought the worst of her, and the best of Bordon. For hadn't he saved her, by marrying her? She'd been so frustrated, she'd wanted to stick her fork into her thigh. She'd wanted to scream the truth, to see their expressions shift from knowing to commiserating. To sympathy for her, for all she'd suffered.

But she knew only too well that commiseration and sympathy - while both would be genuinely felt, would soon give way to discomfort. Then unease. When they were in her company, they wouldn't be able to forget that they were in the company of a raped woman, they would never be relaxed in her company again. Therefore, they would start to avoid her. She was damaged now; tainted. Their closeness would soon end as the others began to distance themselves from her until she was a pariah in the same house. They would not even know they were doing it.

She could not tell them the truth, but nor would she be lured into admitting a dalliance that never happened. O'Hara had advised Bordon and Cilla how to explain their quick marriage, and both had agreed to stick with that. Despite their suspicions, the other women still accepted Cilla as they always had.

Which they would not have done, had they known the horrible truth. Bordon would be ostracised from their midst - but so too would Cilla.

The door opened and Cilla tensed as Major Bordon walked in, carrying a glass in one hand. For a bare instant, she met his gaze, before quickly turning her head away. She could still see him from the corner of her eye, could see that he was staring at her as he shut the door closed behind her. They hadn't had to share quarters since they were married. But they were at Fresh Water now. According to Beth, Bordon had a cabin allocated to him, where he was meeting with his mistress. But with the affair truly at an end now, and with the heavy population of Officers at Fresh Water, it had been ceded to someone else.

Cilla wished he still had the cabin. She wished he was still bedding Miss Jutland, or Mrs. Farshaw, or whatever she was called now. She wished, most desperately, that she did not have to share this room with him.

Might as well wish they'd never had to marry at all…

Without a word, he walked deeper into the room and set the glass on a side table. With his arms high over head, he stretched and made a grunting noise as though his body pained him. She waited to see what he would do next, and was mildly surprised when he sat at the small desk and began to write in a journal. For some time the only sound in the room was the scritching of his quill across parchment. This task was soon completed, his journal stowed away in a drawer. Then, as though she were not even in the chamber, he began to undress. Her eyes widened until the whites showed around the brown of her iris entire, and she stared hard into the flames but it was of no use, she could see him as he pulled off every single item of the clothing that clad him. Each piece was folded with as much care as Mila had shown Cilla's clothes. He sat down and pulled his boots off. Then he was pulling his breeches off and Cilla snapped her eyes shut, trying to hold back her whimpers of fear. Her heart pounded and sweat popped out on her forehead, along her spine to soak into her shift.

But all Bordon did for now was stride over to yet another table, this one holding a large bowl and a ewer of water, and his shaving implements. As naked as the day he was born, he began to wash himself down, dipping a cloth into the water and sluicing the days grit from his body. It did not take long for his body to dry for he was close to the fire. As he rounded the bed, Cilla swallowed hard, her fingers trembled in her lap. The bed dipped, she could feel it, could hear the rustle of the blankets as they were pulled back. She did not turn to look, though she could feel the heat from his body against her back. Her thoughts roiled, terror seized her in his grip. Yes, he vowed that theirs was a marriage in name only, but now that she was alone with him, she could not quite believe that such a man as he would keep that oath. Any moment now, she would feel his hands on her shoulders, seizing her and spinning her around, forcing her down into the pillows as he shoved her shift up her body and kneed her legs apart. She could scream the house down and no one would help her, not even Beth, even though Beth would want to try. Her husband - the Colonel - would stop her from helping, for Cilla was this man's wife, sworn to obey and helpless against his will. He owned her, the oaths she had spoken and the license she had signed all bound her to him as strongly as if she were manacled and secured to a whipping post. Like a kicked dog, she waited for the whip to land.

Instead, she heard a strange noise and, startled, she twisted around to him. Her breath caught in her throat and she stared as the man laying on his back, one arm draped to rest on the pillow above his head, his mouth hanging open slightly as he snored through his nose. His eyes were closed and it was clear he was very much asleep. Cilla shifted around to face forward again. What should she do? In her terror, she'd been so certain he'd force himself on her again. But there he was, sleeping.

Keeping his oath not to touch her.

After staring at her hands for several moments, her mouth cracked open in a wide yawn and she realised she was utterly exhausted, and very much in need of the sleep Bordon seemed to be enjoying so thoroughly. She would not lay naked beside him however, she drew the line there. Pulling the covers back, she climbed in carefully, gingerly, afraid she would wake him and he would pounce on her. She kept her ankle length shift firmly wound around her body, making certain it was pushed down to her feet, as she lay down beside him and pulled the covers back up. Turning onto her side with her back to him, she finally allowed herself to relax, to close her eyes and finally drift off into sleep.

"I am taking some Dragoons out to scout the area and will be gone for a day or so," Bordon informed Cilla. She sat up in the bed, back against the headboard, the covers pulled to her chest, her pale locks surrounding her. He disappeared in his shirt for a moment as he pulled it over his head. "I thought it would be for the best," he said when his head was free. "if I were away for a while. You'd prefer it, wouldn't you?"

"I certainly would," she replied emphatically. He shoved his shirt tails into his breeches.

"If there's anything you need, speak to your cousin. I'm sure she and William will advance you money until your inheritance comes through - "

"Twenty thousand pounds," she drew a long, slow breath, then let it puff from her lips. "You've done rather well for yourself, haven't you?"

Her words gave him a moments pause. He studied her, noting the defiance in her gaze. She was challenging him, daring him to deny that in marrying her, he wasn't being punished for his crimes. She was beautiful and wealthy. But having her in his bed where Harmony belonged - having her bear his name, and eventually his child, was pure torment to him. Cornwallis could not have devised a more fitting punishment.

"I've told you, ours is a titular marriage only. I've forfeited a husband's authority and rights. Your money is for you. O'Hara will manage it, I will not get a penny."

"O'Hara will not be here to keep you honest forever. How long before you begin seeing my money as yours?"

"I think I preferred you yesterday when you were terrified of me," he decided to taunt her as he moved closer to the bed. She drew a sharp breath when he stood over her, looming. Her eyes were wide now, and her face drained of all colour. Instantly, Bordon felt ashamed. He realised in that moment that she was giving him the semblance of challenge only, the facade of defiance. But the veneer was thin, she was brittle just below the surface. He took several steps back and heard her exhale slowly, as though she hadn't been able to breathe until his backing down enabled her.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me," she whispered, doubting him now. Clearly her trust for him was as thin as that veneer she kept in place.

"And I will hold to it," he said. Standing at the small table, he began to run a comb through his hair. "That doesn't mean I can't be provoked. I won't hit you, Miss Putman. But if you push me, I will lose my temper."

"I've seen you in a temper," she accused, arching a brow. Challenging again. He knew better than to rise to the bait now.

"I do lots of shouting," he said, ignoring her challenge. "You mention your inheritance? Fine, let's discuss it. You know damned well why I married you, Cilla."

"You didn't want to be courtmartialed."

"Which would have bought great shame to my family. That was my sole reason," he said. "I am not a fortune hunter, I have plenty of wealth of my own. I married you to save my neck; and to save my family, who would be in disgrace if I were to be courtmartialed. I did not marry you for your money."

Cilla hunched her shoulders, feeling quite sullen. "My father's money… His house - his properties! What will the British do with it all?"

"Give it to a Loyalist in their favour, perhaps," seeing her bristle with true fury, he hurried on, "Or they might give it to us, seeing that I'm a British Officer and your husband. Through me, his entire holdings might come to you, yet. Would you prefer that? Our child would want for nothing, then. Your father's grandson would be provided for."

She blinked slowly up at him, her face unreadable. Shrugging, he finished dressing and strode from the room, leaving her there with her thoughts.

Our child will want for nothing. Would you prefer that? Cilla glared at the closed door, willing Bordon to trip over his damned feet on the stairs. A child forced on her through rape should not be her father's sole bloody heir. It was times like these she wished she had a brother, though she supposed it would not have mattered. Any brother of hers would have been a Patriot, and with their holdings seized, he would have as much chance of claiming it as fly to the moon. The door opened again and Mila slipped in. She introduced Vickie, a maid who had been in Charlotte's employ and was now working at Fresh Water. She was to be Cilla's maid, now.

After curtsying, Vickie went about her delegated duties in silence as a proper maid should. However, Mila prattled away, asking questions here and there, the content of which caused Cilla to wonder if Beth had sent her maid to spy. Answering vaguely, giving no true information, she rose at Mila's bidding to clutch the bedpost in order for her stays to be laced. Her pregnancy was not showing even slightly, yet she requested Mila to do them tighter, just in case. Frowning, Mila did so, until Cilla's midsection was contained in that perfectly figured, feminine V shape. Cilla took a few experimental breaths, she worried that it might become a struggle to take air into her lungs the more her pregnancy progressed, she might not be able to hide her pregnancy much longer.

You don't have to hide it at all. You're married now, and everyone already suspects the reason for it, she argued with herself as Mila continued to dress her.

But if she did reveal it now when only having married Bordon a few days ago, they would know immediately the true reason she had been in want of a husband. Her pride would not allow that. Examining herself in the mirror, she saw that her waist was as small as ever. When the time came that she could no longer obscure the child within, she would reveal her pregnancy. Hopefully by then, she would be able to pretend that she fell pregnant after her wedding. The others did not know that her marriage was name only - they likely thought she would be bedding her husband.

She supposed that was one advantage at being forced to share the chamber with him.

My father's heir, she scoffed, sniffing in disdain. Let's hope Bordon's get is a girl, so she can't inherit a damned thing from my father's estate.

It was difficult for her to love the baby within, no matter how much of it was of her. The baby was as much her as it was Bordon, and therefore, it was worthy of its mother's love. But how could it possibly be of both of them, when one of them was a monster?

"Will that be all?" Mila asked.

Cilla's hair was coiffured, a shawl graced her shoulders over her bodice. She gazed at herself critically in the mirror, then waved the maids away. Her first morning at Fresh Water. Oh, she'd been to the Plantation plenty of times before, but never without her parents. And never with so many of the enemy surrounding her. At least she had her friends, but even those she needed to be careful of, for they were Tory's, all of them. Even Beth was a Tory now, on account of being married to a British Officer.

Doesn't that make you a Tory too? A small voice in the back of her mind taunted as she walked down the stairs. Never, she shot back, her face darkening so that a servant who happened to glance at her at that moment, startled and turned in another direction. Voices were coming from the parlour. Women's voices, laughing and gay. Just how far could she trust her cousin these days? Beth, the wife of a Lobster… Then again, Cilla was wife to a Lobster now too… She opened the door to join them.

"Where's Beth?" She asked, noticing her cousin's absence immediately.

"Ah, it seems she had… ah… business… Over at the Ferguson's," Rebecca said gently, evasively, while burying her face in her tea cup. Sarah's face flushed crimson, only Emily seemed unperturbed.

"What business?" Cilla asked her as she took a seat.

"Well, you have to understand my dear, that Beth and that woman - that Mrs. Farshaw, have been friends for quite some time," Emily explained. She told of the grand friendship that had developed between the pair.

"My cousin is visiting my husband's mistress?" Cilla asked, voice sharp. Red flared over Becky's and Sarah's faces, they looked terribly uncomfortable.

"Former mistress," Emily replied. "Come, sit with us, Cilla. We've so much catching up to do." Emily patted the seat beside her.

Keeping her face smooth of all expression while silently raging at Beth for this terrible insult, Cilla sat beside Emily, ready to settle in a prattle like she hadn't a care in the world.