Chapter 93 - Tavington Visits Linda:
I did the right thing, Linda told herself as she folded the soldier's shirt she'd washed and dried with her own blistering hands. A whole pile awaited her attention, it would take her all morning to finish.
It had been easy, getting away. Far easier than even Linda had anticipated. Providence, it seemed, had been shining down on them. It had been a simple thing for 'Lilly Merry' to depart through a check point guarded by soldiers who were familiar with her. That she had a friend in her company was not even questioned - the friend was a woman, not some soldier trying to desert. Nor was it questioned the following morning when she came back without her companion, because the guard had changed during the night, well before she returned.
Linda shook her head, smiling over the shirt. It had been so easy, in the end. The Turnbull's had taken Harmony in without question, because of Harmony's and Linda's 'acquaintance' with Colonel Tavington. She told them that the Colonel needed them to look after Harmony who was in trouble with the rebels for giving information to Tavington. They were to do so in utmost secrecy. Being Loyalists themselves, they'd agreed, believing the command had indeed come from the Colonel. That was a lot of pig's rot, of course. But if they approached Tavington to confirm it, he wouldn't say otherwise - he'd want Harmony there instead of with Farshaw, for certain.
Christ, William. Her thoughts and worries turned to her former lover. He must know by now that she was in camp, Bordon must have told him by now. Why had William not sent his men to escort her from camp yet? Surely he will not come himself, he would not risk being caught with her -
A knock outside on the post was all the warning she had. As if thinking of him had the power to summon him, the tent flap was whisked aside and fell abruptly behind Tavington. Linda gaped up at William, who stood staring down at her with a very grave expression. His pale eyes seemed to blaze with fire. Without saying a word to her, he stepped deeper into the tent and sat down on her only stool. All she could do was gape, her mouth hanging open like gasping fish. She'd not seen him this close up in… so long. The last time had been in the woods, when he'd told her it was over, before handing her over to Private Cox, to be done away with like so much rubbish.
"So, it's true. You're back," he drawled, and his voice made her shiver. Lord, that voice… Like a gentle caress across her skin… Christ, she'd missed it. She'd missed him, so much. He sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees. She stared at his gloved hands - oh, how much pleasure had she felt from those hands? At length, she raised her gaze to meet his eyes.
"Will you send me away again?" She asked, setting her sewing aside.
"You can't stay here, Linda," he said. "If you are worried about the baby, I will see you both well situated -" He began but she cut him off before he could breathe another word.
"I won't leave, William. I'll not be set aside so easily as that," there was an edge to her voice. She was no weakling, not Linda Stokes. Whores could not afford to be weak. "Listen, I've been here for over a month now and no trouble has come of it. I've kept low and I've worked. I'll keep working and I'll keep staying low - just don't send me away again, William. Please," she hated the pleading in her voice. Despised it.
"You can't stay here," William shook his head. "Christ. If Beth discovers this," he shook himself, as if a chill had taken hold of him. "This is her home. She'd feel -"
"Like I've desecrated it with my presence," Linda interrupted, filled with fury. "Like I've dirtied it somehow."
"Yes, she would," William said, speaking the simple truth.
That was not his only concerned. He recalled what Beth had told him, that day in the stable, when she tried to leave him after Banastre - the damned prick - told her that Linda was with the Legion. 'I have friends in your Legion - you needn't think I don't! Half of them are boys I grew up with. And then there's Mary. Rebecca. Sarah. Emily. They know how to route out the slightest gossip. I assure you, William, if you are unfaithful with that fucking slut, I will know it within an hour and there is not a force on earth that will make me stay with you!'
"She would feel that I have betrayed her, through no fault of my own," he said to Linda now. God, he had a blinding headache coming on, he did not want to deal with this right now. Or at all. He forced himself to continue. "You have no idea what position you've put me in, by returning here. I risk losing everything. She would never believe that I'd been faithful these months, if she discovered my former mistress was still living here. There's no hope for it, Linda. You will leave."
"Please," she shuffled closer, closing the two paces separating them and took hold of his hands. Lord, to touch him again… It was more than she could bear, strong whore or not. "It was torture, being parted from you. I love you, William. I'll stay away from you, I've been doing so, haven't I? She won't find out I'm here. Just don't send me away again!"
"Why do you want to be here?" He asked, honestly perplexed. "Linda, I can make no sense of it. The Turnbull's were good to you, were they not? You were safe there, there was no reason for you to leave!"
"Except I could not see you," she whispered. She stared at his hands as he pulled them from her grasp. The pain of that rejection pierced her and she dropped back onto her heels, desolate. She did not try to touch him again, but nor did she draw away from him.
"I see," he tightened his lips, finally understanding why she'd stayed. "Linda, it is over between us -"
"You promised me!" She ground out. "You swore it, William. You said I wouldn't have to go back to a life of whoring, that's what you promised!"
"Have you -"
"Of course I have!" She cried softly. "What else could I do?"
"You are carrying my child!" He shot back, outraged. "And you're letting men spill their seed inside of you? It didn't have to be that way. You could have stayed with the Turnbull's, where you were provided for!"
"I thought you had honour!" She spat. "I never would have thought you were an oath-breaker!"
William stared at her, her words cutting him deeply.
"You damned bastard," she continued in that whisper, pure rage moving through her like a flood. He drew a long breath, sat up straighter. Linda rose slowly, her eyes locked on his. She might have been his mistress once, but she was ever a whore before, and had become one again. Whores did not last long, not without a backbone. Linda would not cower before this man. No, she would not bend and scrape!
"Your trust," she spat. "Do you remember? You told me I had your trust, and that was something that bitch would never have." William moved uncomfortably on his seat, he did not like his wife being insulted. She ploughed on before he could protest and defend her. "You told me, that day. You loved her, you said, but you'd never trust her. You gave that to me, that trust and then you snatched it away, along with all your empty fucking promises," she leaned close to him, eye to eye, nose to nose and for a wonder, Tavington drew back, chagrined. "Oh I see - you do remember," she spat a bitter laugh. "Do you also remember the whippings, William? You used your riding crop on me!"
"You gave as good as you got, I recall," he said ruefully.
"It was all for you! I enjoyed it, I won't claim I didn't. But it was all for you! I would have enjoyed you just as well, if you remained a gentle lover. I allowed you to use my body, to calm your demons, demons she caused! And then you toss me aside, after promising you'd never end it with me! I left Charleston for you - I left my faithful patrons, my favourites, to become your mistress and for what? A liaison that would only last a scant few bloody months? Tell me, do you think it was worth my while? You promised me so much more, and I gave you so much more - I gave you my body, to use as you saw fit! How many times did you ignore the safety word, William? I bear scars because you were in such a rage, you could not stop! I bear those scars for you, so that you could keep your sanity because of what she did to you! And this is how you reward me? By sending away again. You don't even realise the debt you owe me!"
She whirled away from him, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Not once had she raised her voice, even now she would protect him from gossip by not alerting those outside to his presence within her tent. She'd spoken in low tones, a furious hiss, that was all the more powerful for it. He gazed at her back, saw that her shoulders were not so much heaving now, as shaking. Was she crying?
"Linda… yes, I made those promises, but you can't expect me to keep you as my mistress. I won't come down here each night and lay with you, because of some promise I made months ago. I was crazed back then, I don't know what I was thinking when I made those vows. But you must know by now that I won't be unfaithful to my wife."
"I'm not asking you to be," she said softly, turning back to him. "I'm just asking you to not send me away again. I'm not hurting anyone by being here. I have friends here, Mrs. Andrews has promised to help me when I give birth -"
"To my son or daughter," William shook his head, breathing out slowly. "Lord, Beth is going to kill me, if she finds out…"
He was trying to reach a decision, she could sense it. Linda stood before him as he deliberated her future - her fate was in his hands. That was no new thing, her fate had been in his hands from the moment she met him.
Tavington cocked his head to one side. Would it do any good, to send her away? She would come back again. Oh, he could give commands that would see that she never set foot on the plantation again, of course he could. But at least this way, he'd know exactly where she was, he'd know she was safe. He had been worried about her, and now he knew about the child, his worry would be ten fold. The situation had changed, she was carrying his child, and he knew he could not send her away again. He preferred to know where she was, to keep an eye on her and to provide for her. That much of his promise he should - and could - keep.
"No more whoring," he said, his words crisp and firm. "I will not have my child dirtied by another man's seed. I will provide for you as I promised. And the babe too. I promised you a stipend, and I have it for you, though I didn't know where you were to give it to you. And I will give you a stipend, to support the child. I suggest you consider this fellow of yours - Private Cox. Bordon has looked into his background and it seems he's a good sort of fellow. Marry him, and I'll make sure he is promoted, to a non-commissioned Officers position - a Sergeant, perhaps. Just think on it, will you?"
"You'd palm me off to another man so easily?" Linda asked, tears burning her eyes. This was the worst! The vision of him swam before her. "Do you not care for me at all? I thought you might have… I thought you were in love with me once!"
Love? He arched an eyebrow. He'd needed her once. But love? No, he'd never been in love with her.
"I care for you," he said softly, heaving a sigh. "Why do you think I'm going to these efforts for you? Christ, if my wife discovers you're here… She told me once that if she heard one more whisper about you and I, there isn't a force on earth that would stop her leaving me. I'm taking that risk because I care for you. Because I owe you a debt. And because I want you were I can keep an eye on you, where I know you'll be safe. Linda, of course I care." This time, he reached out and took hold of her hands. His strong fingers wound around hers and she let out a gasping sob. His touch, voluntarily given, undid her. Sobbing freely, she threw herself against his chest, her body shuddering convulsively. He whispered soothing words and when his arms moved around her body to cradle her, she felt she'd die of joy. "She can't know," he whispered, closing his eyes, already imagining Beth's reaction. "And you must not expect anything of me. You are my former mistress, I'll not begin our affair again. I will be faithful to my wife. If you do expect more from me, Linda, you can leave immediately."
"I promise," she sobbed. "I've been careful so far, haven't I? And my friends have kept my secret."
She felt him nod.
"You'll think on Cox, will you?" He asked her.
At length, she nodded agreement. That she would 'think' on marrying Private Cox, but she did not make any promises. She rested there against his chest, heart broken all over again at his declaration, that he would not be unfaithful to his wife. But he was allowing her to stay - that was something. He would need her, she knew he would. And now that he knew where she was, he knew where to come for her.
"I have to go," he said, drawing back from her and rising to his feet.
"Will you visit me?" She asked.
"Jesus," he shook his head. "That would not be wise. No. It's best that I stay away. Send word through Major Bordon, if you have need of me." He set her aside and stepped closer to the entrance. He would be leaving now. Linda watched him sadly, she reached up and laid her hand on his thigh, her fingers very close to his manhood, awe flooding through her. Lord, the effect this man had on her.
"Linda…" Stepping back from her, he shook his head as he stared down at her.
"You can't fault me for trying, can you?" She asked, a laugh escaping her. He chuckled softly and she exulted to hear it. One step at a time, she thought. He would soon return to her, he would be in her bed again. She could wait.
"Gone?" Richard asked, narrowed eyes darting around the chamber. He glanced at Fallows, O'Hara, then returned to Calvin, his voice rising as he continued, "gone where? When did she leave? Who did she leave with?" His voice was almost shrill and he glared daggers as he threw the questions at Calvin.
"Why don't you tell me?" Calvin raged, "you helped her get away, where did you bloody take her?"
"I've warned you of your language, Lieutenant," O'Hara spat before Bordon could get a word in edgewise. He was still fuming that the young man had felt free to barge into his office. Calvin had waited impatiently while Bordon was summoned, and now the Lieutenant looked ready to fall back on his old ways, cursing and brawling right there in O'Hara's office. He'd been raising merry hell, even before Bordon's arrival. "And to use such a tone with me..! I should have you locked in irons! And if you dare to barge into my office without my leave again, I'll have you whipped!"
"Before you do, Sir," Calvin said, still furious though he was a little more careful of his tone now, "perhaps you should have Major Bordon questioned? She can't have left without any help!"
"I do not believe that Major Bordon has any information regarding this matter," O'Hara said crisply. Bordon's shoulders relaxed slightly though he was still tense, with worry over what might have become of Harmony. Calvin's eyes bulged.
"With respect, Sir," he ground out when he managed to recover himself, "my wife is missing and I've no idea where she might be. The only person who probably does know, is standing right there, pretending bloody ignorance!"
"I am pretending nothing," Bordon spat, drawing himself up to his full height. "You will be careful, Lieutenant," the Major snapped. "You will remember that I am your superior."
"This Officer is under my direct command, Major," Fallows ground out. "I suggest you remember that."
Bordon threw Fallows an astonished look, was the man actually defending Farshaw? He shook his head, shoved the question from it, turned back too Calvin. "When the devil did you see her last?"
Calvin licked his lips, looking suddenly embarrassed.
"Yesterday morning," he admitted.
"Yesterday morning -" Bordon was momentarily too stunned to continued. Then he roared, "you should have been keeping a better watch over her! You're her damned husband, to Harmony's utter woe! You should be protecting her! Christ," he laughed bitterly, "what am I saying? You, protect her..? She needs protection from you!" He tensed as a terrible thought seized him. He advanced on Calvin. "She's fled from you - why did she flee from you, Farshaw? What the fuck did you do to her?"
Suddenly Fallows was between them, he just slid in front of Bordon, facing him, and Calvin was to Fallows back.
"Lay a hand on my Junior, Major," Fallows said softly and again, Bordon's eyes widened with astonishment.
"Major Bordon," O'Hara warned softly over steepled fingers. That one drawn out word, softly spoken, drew the red faced Major up short. O'Hara did not believe that Bordon, who had been making a herculean effort to redeem himself, would be so foolish as to make off with Mrs. Farshaw. But he could not have the Officer cursing in the middle of his office, either.
"Forgive me, General," Bordon said, turning to O'Hara, his voice all contrition. "I forgot myself. But I vow - if he has hurt her again -"
"Then he shall be whipped," O'Hara said simply, eyes shifting to Calvin.
"I didn't blood- ah, that is, I didn't hit her, Sir," Calvin said.
"Mrs. Farshaw had a visitor before she disappeared," Fallows said, turning to face O'Hara but keeping himself between Bordon and Farshaw. He opened his mouth to speak of what he'd discovered in the last hour, but stopped dead when the door opened and Colonel Tavington slipped into the chamber.
Calvin was momentarily distracted from his fury when he saw the way Major Fallows' eyes lingered on the Colonel, as the Colonel walked across the room and lowered himself into a chair, uninvited. If Calvin wasn't so damned angry, he would have sniggered. It seemed that he - Calvin - was not the only object of the Major's desires.
"Are you well, Colonel?" O'Hara asked.
"Headache," William replied as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. His body was aching, ever muscle was sore and felt like water. His strength was draining fast and he did not want to show any of it.
"One Mrs. Merry," Fallows continued and Tavington threw Fallows a startled glance. "I've questioned Mrs. Merry myself. She said she did indeed drop by to see Mrs. Farshaw, as the two are acquainted. Mrs. Farshaw was not expecting her and as she was busy and needed to be about her business, she did not entertain Mrs. Merry for long. Instead, she cut the visit short, she generously gave Mrs. Merry some of her old clothes, and then showed her to the door. I asked Mrs. Merry if Mrs. Farshaw revealed what her task was that had her so occupied and Mrs. Merry said she didn't. She said she was with Mrs. Farshaw for no longer than ten minutes, and then left. Mrs. Farshaw was still in the house when Mrs. Merry departed, I have confirmed this by those who saw her bidding the other woman farewell - she returned to her room after that. From there, about a half hour later, another soldier saw her in the corridor but that was the only sighting I have been able to gain."
Mrs. Merry. Bordon froze, he stilled as a deep calm settled within him. He met William's eyes, saw the same recognition. Mrs. Merry. Linda Stokes. Linda had come to see Harmony only a half hour before? Therefore, it was very likely that it was Linda who had spirited her away.
"Mrs. Merry," Bordon said, trying to keep the same level of panic in his voice as before. He could not alert O'Hara that he might, perhaps, know who had assisted Harmony in leaving. "Where is she quartered?"
"Near Quartermaster Hamish's tent," came the reply.
"I will question her myself," Bordon announced, determined to take command of the situation, lest Fallows uncover too much information.
"Whatever for?" Fallows said, offended. "I've told you, I've already done so."
"A full scale search must commence immediately," Tavington advised from his seat, ignoring Fallows, his voice confident as he became a conspirator with Bordon. "We need to know that Mrs. Farshaw is safe and well, for she might be wounded and hiding from her husband."
"I didn't touch her!" Farshaw spat but Tavington ignored him.
"She will be found, where ever she might be. The Dragoons will begin at once." And he would make certain it was his Dragoons- and only his Dragoons who would be used in the so called search.
"I do not see how that will help any," Fallows said, frowning. "Far better to send out my eyes and ears. If Mrs. Farshaw is hiding, she'll see your Dragoons coming a mile off and it'll only scare her away."
"Are you questioning my command, Major?" Tavington arched an eyebrow, voice dangerous. He'd lost much of his ground over the last month and only in the last few days, was he seeing any signs that he might be regaining it. He was determined to prove once and for all just who was in command. Major Fallows, after darting a quick look at O'Hara, and perceiving that O'Hara was not going to come to his defence, submitted immediately.
"No, Colonel. Forgive me," he demurred, bowing with respect. "Your Dragoons will be perfectly adequate for the job."
Tavington tightened his lips, but he turned from Fallows as though the man was of no further consequence.
"Thank you, Colonel," O'Hara said. "I appreciate you taking this in hand. I have more than enough on my plate."
"Sir, I shall report back to you as soon as I learn anything," he told O'Hara. "If you will excuse me." He pushed himself up, it took every ounce of his strength just to stand, but he did it.
"Wait!" Calvin not quite shouted, halting Tavington who was turning for the door. "You'll report to the General? What of me - she's my wife! Surely I should be told immediately..?"
"If she's got a single bruise on her when she's found, Lieutenant, I'll hang you by your fingernails. Do you understand me?" Tavington said softly. He somehow loomed over Calvin - who could not understand how the Colonel managed it, when they were both of a similar height. He swallowed hard and nodded quickly.
"Now see here!" Fallows protested, frowning fiercely. "He is no longer under your command, Sir. Lieutenant Farshaw is my clerk, Sir, and as such, any judgement and punishment regarding ill doings will be processed through me!"
Tavington scowled but in this, Fallows held his ground.
"Farshaw is not under your command, Colonel," O'Hara agreed. "I suggest you remember what got you into trouble in the first place. Find what you will and then place your complaint before Fallows, if there is one to be had."
Tavington stared at O'Hara for a long while, before finally nodding. As he turned back to the door, he gave Calvin a filthy look loaded with threat.
Gods, he did it. Fallows had promised to protect him, and he had. Farshaw blew out a slow breath, his heart still raced though and sweat beaded his forehead. The Colonel left the chamber, with Bordon hot on his heels.
"Be still, Richard," William said under his breath, barely moving his lips as the two strode along the corridor. "If Linda is involved then Harmony is safe."
Richard let out an explosive breath. "As soon as 'Mrs. Merry' was mentioned, I knew. But you saw her this morning. Why didn't she tell you then..?"
"We had our own troubles to sort out then," Tavington snorted. "I doubt Harmony was on her mind when I went to see her."
The two fell silent, it would be unwise to discuss it further while striding along the corridors. At least not until they were outside of the manor, and safely on their way back to Fresh Water.
"I'd imagine Linda spirited her away - you should head straight to camp to ask her," Tavington said, urging Thunder closer to Bordon's mount so they could converse easier. He kept his voice low, conscious of the Dragoon guard following behind them. "I'll have the Dragoons make a show of searching all of the camps, that will convince O'Hara that you and I had nothing to do with Harmony's disappearance. I'd rather Fallows kept his eyes and ears out of it, for he might realise the truth of who 'Mrs. Merry' is… I do not want him questioning her again. Damn and blast it, women are the bane of my existence, Richard."
"And mine. You're letting her stay then?"
"Yes, and not a word to Beth, hmm?"
"Of course not," Bordon snorted. He liked Beth well enough and was grateful for everything she'd done to help Harmony, but when it came down to a choice between William and Beth, he'd fall on William's side any day of the week.
"Tell me William," Bordon said, able to jest now that he was certain Harmony was safe and well. "Just how do you hang a man from his fingernails?"
William climbed the stairs wearily, each step heavier than the last until he he was not certain he'd make it to the top landing. Soldiers and servants rushed by him, the house was crawling with far too many people. He was just tired, he thought. He reached the top landing and stopped to stretch his aching back. Everything was aching and he wanted, very much, to lay down. For just a moment. Perhaps Beth would join him.
Bordon would be in camp by now, he'd raced on ahead to speak to Linda, to find out if their suspicions were correct, that Linda had helped Harmony to leave, and why. Tavington was not worried; if Linda was involved, then Harmony was safe enough. Far safer than she had been with Farshaw, that was for certain. Bordon would get to the bottom of it. He would discover where Harmony was and, in just a few more hours, he'd probably be buried to the hilt inside of her. Tavington chuckled softly as he placed one leaden boot in front of the other. He'd like to be buried to the hilt also, but he doubted he had the energy. Perhaps if Beth were on top? He did like it when she was on top, with her breasts bouncing around. It was such a beautiful sight, especially when she really got going… Such a delight.
And it could all be whipped away, if she discovered Linda was in camp. He sighed deeply and entered his chamber.
"Oh, good, you're here," he said. Beth was laying back against the pillows with one hand splayed across her stomach.
"Where were you expecting I'd be? Spirited away by rebels?" She sat up with a frown as she noticed William's pale pallor. Ignoring her own aching stomach, she jumped up from the bed, "sweet Lord, William! You look like death warmed up! Come lay down, lay down!"
He was suddenly too weak, too weary to do anything but what his little wife commanded. He fell rather than sat, to perch on the side of the bed. Sitting there, the room seemed to tilt and sway, though he was certain he was sitting quite still. Beth was on her knees before him and he smiled down at her. He did love it when she was kneeling - it always felt very grand, what she did when she was in that position. Instead of working at his breeches so she could pleasure him, however, she began tugging at his boots.
"You're no fun," he scowled down at her.
"You're in no condition to have fun," she scoffed. His boots removed, this time she did turn to his belt and buttons, but only to pull off his breeches before forcing him to lay down in between the blankets.
"I've got too much to do, Little Beth," he protested. "I can't -"
"Be sick?" She finished archly. "'The Great Colonel Tavington' can't fall ill?" She laid the backs of her fingers to his forehead, then let out a stream of expletives. "You don't need these blankets after all," she said, throwing them off him and letting the cool air flow across his bare legs. "You're as hot as blazes."
"Only for you, dear heart," he said, mustering a soft laugh.
"Stop joking," she said, voice rising in pitch with worry. "It could be Yellow fever you damned dolt! You're going to be so sick and you might even -"
"Shh," he said, taking hold of her hand and pulling her closer. He continued to pull and tug until she was laying down beside him. "I'm not going to die," he said, snuggling her into him. "I'm as strong as an ox."
"Be that as it may," she said, relaxing on her back as he sighed and rested his head on her breasts - they made a very comfortable pillow. "I'll send for Mila. You need herbs and water and laudanum and…"
"Soon," he finished for her. "Just stay here for a bit, I'm quite comfortable and I'd loathe to be moved."
"I'm sure," she sighed. With deft fingers, she freed his hair from its queue. She began to run her fingers through the dark brown strands with one hand, while rubbing his back with her other. He would fall asleep soon and she still needed to get his wool jacket off, and his cravat, his vest. The only thing he should be wearing was his shirt - perhaps not even that. He needed to be stripped down, so she could run wet cloths over his body in an effort to bring down his rising fever. At length, she slipped out from under him, ignoring his grumbles. She helped him remove the remainder of his clothing. After opening the windows to let the cool September breeze in, she slipped out of the room to gather all that was needed.
By the time she returned to him with, he was laying back against the pillows, slipping in and out of a doze. He awakened properly when she entered, and he was immediately alert.
"What is wrong?" He asked her, seeing her look of concern on her pretty face.
"Something is happening with Cilla," she said softly as she placed a tray with water, cloths and small vials on the table.
"What is it?" William asked. Cilla was sick, she hadn't risen from her bed for several days now.
"I was just in Cilla's room. She is as weak as a newborn kitten, she's barely aware, almost in delirium. But she is curled up on her bed crying and clutching her stomach. I saw one of the maids shove strips of linen into a basket just before another of the maids closed the door. William, that linen was covered in blood. Soaked with it - it was dripping on the floor," Beth said, her large eyes wide. He gazed up at her, then sighed heavily.
"Her illness has bought on a miscarriage…"
"I think so," Beth said, then promptly began to cry. She'd managed to hold herself together after witnessing the terrible scene, but now found she was utterly unable to. He pulled her down into the bed as he had earlier and held her close during her storm of weeping.
A short time later there came a brief knock on the door, and Mila entered the room with wine and herbs for Tavington. Beth sat up and quickly swiped at her eyes to dry them.
"Is Cilla alright?" She asked, voice frantic. "I saw blood. Is she..?"
"She is losing her baby," Mila replied as she came to stand beside the bed.
"Why? Is it because she is sick?" Beth wailed, struggling to understand.
"I think so, yes. But sometimes these things… They just happen," Mila said. "Perhaps it's a combination of things. It could be she's been eating something she aught not or because of her stays, or she's been doing too much - or worrying too much about something. When someone has too many responsibilities, it can happen. But I'd say it's because she's been so ill."
"Her stays?" Beth asked. What did Cilla's stays have to do with anything?
"If your stays are too tight, the baby has no room to grow," Mila explained. "It's more likely that it's because she's ill, but like I said, these things just happen at times, we don't always know the reason."
Beth swallowed hard, her dark eyes wide with shock. Mila inclined her head to William, "and you, Sir - I'm told you are unwell?"
"Beth is tending me," he replied and she nodded.
"That's good - Mrs. Bordon is going to need me. Where is Major Bordon? I sent for him but he can't be found," Mila wrung out a cloth and handed it to Beth.
Yes, Beth thought, her fingers trembling, I'm supposed to be tending William. With shaking hands, she began running the cool cloth over his skin. William did not care that he was completely nude before the maid and Mila gave no indication that she was bothered by it. She began measuring a dose of laudanum and mixed it into some wine.
Bordon, William thought. At that moment, Bordon was, most likely, in Harmony's arms, enjoying the first embrace with his beloved after weeks of going without. And Tavington had no idea where that could possibly be occurring - he had no idea where Linda had taken Harmony. He could not send for Bordon, even if he wanted to.
"Off the Plantation," he replied to Mila. "I'm not certain when he will return."
"It's probably for the best he's not here while she's going through this.
"Can you save the babe?" Beth wailed, voice choking.
"No, I can't," Mila said. "It's still inside her. She needs to give birth and she's bleeding - there's so much blood… I have that to clean away, and when the baby comes…" When a woman gave birth in the normal course, it was usually to a healthy baby with ten fingers and ten toes, fully formed and beautiful. What Cilla would give birth to would be a heart breaking sight and she wished to spare Beth that. "Beth, please. You can't be in there."
"She needs me," Beth said, sounding both uncertain and stubborn. "I'm going to come in Mila - as soon as William is sleeping."
William frowned at Beth, knowing full well that being with Cilla could only distress her. Mila drew a shuddering breath, she inclined her head however, remembering her place that much. She was Beth's maid, Mila could not bully her into doing what she wanted.
"I should send for Mrs. Andrews," Beth said. "You're capable, Mila, I know you are. But Mrs. Andrews is a midwife. She should be here."
"If you think it's for the best. Here, I bought you these," Mila said, handing over a stack of napkins, folded and sewn into rectangles. William's eyes widened when Beth took them. He remembered entering the room and seeing her in bed, her hand over her stomach. He met her eyes as she placed the pile aside.
She had her courses.
Again.
He drew a deep breath and tried to keep the displeasure from showing on his face. It was hard though, damned hard. He was sick, tired, frustrated that he would not be able to perform the weight of his responsibilities and he'd hoped, prayed, that her womb would quicken by now. They'd been married for two month, shouldn't they have some bloody good news by now? Jesus. Beth flinched and looked away, he hadn't been successful at hiding his annoyance after all.
"I'll come shortly," Beth said to Mila, keeping her gaze averted from William's. "Will you return to her now? I don't want her to be left alone."
"She's not alone," Mila snorted. "She has two women in there but yes, I'll be getting back now," she left as quietly as she'd entered.
"We need to get word to Bordon," Beth said, forlorn.
He wondered what she would think about it, if he was to tell her where he suspected Bordon was at that moment. She liked Harmony well enough, but Cilla was a beloved cousin. And right then, Cilla was losing her baby, while her husband was enjoying his mistress' company. William had no doubt that Harmony was, indeed, Bordon's mistress again.
"We shall," he replied, deciding it was prudent to remain silent on the rest.
"Poor Cilla," Beth sniffled, again wiping at her eyes. "I think she might have been in danger a few days ago - she was complaining of odd pains then, though I didn't think much of it. Oh, if only I knew what was happening, perhaps I could have helped her! She might not have lost the baby. If only I knew more about this sort of thing!"
"How could you know more, when you've never been pregnant yourself?" He asked, arching an eyebrow. She drew in a sharp breath.
"That's cruel, William," she said firmly, rallying. "And uncalled for. I've got enough to worry about now, don't you think? You're sick and Cilla… Lord…"
She hung her head, trailing off, unable to finish.
"Jesus," William said, heaving a sigh. It seemed the best curse to use, it summed it all up perfectly. How would Bordon react, he wondered? If it was the child Bordon had created with Harmony, he would be utterly devastated. But would he care so much, about Cilla's babe? The child had been as much Bordon as Cilla... Yes, William decided. Bordon will be most upset. The baby had been the one thing he'd been looking forward to enjoying in his loveless marriage. Setting Cilla and Bordon's troubles aside for now, he turned back to Beth. "You've done that too - getting Mila to tie your stays too tight. It stops now," he said, using the same voice of command he used on his men. Beth had learned to obey him, when he used that voice on her. "I'll not have your vanity stop us from having a healthy baby."
"I wouldn't, not after I knew I was pregnant," she said, offended.
"You won't anyway," he said, voice hard, demanding her submission. "Who knows what sort of damage you could do before you even know you're pregnant?" He sniffed and added, "not that we need to worry about that this month." It was unnecessary and cruel, but he was unable to help himself.
"I'm sorry, William. I don't know why this is happening!" Beth gasped, feeling he was berating her. The problem, Beth knew, could not lie with William himself. Some men could not conceive a child, but they both knew that William was not one of them. No, if they continued to remain childless, the problem had to lie with Beth. "My mother never had any trouble at all - she bore eight children!"
"Yes your mother had lots of children, yet Mrs. Selton had none and the Putman's only had one," he snapped. "Since we married, Beth, barely a day has gone by that we have not coupled. You did the things Mila suggested - yet you've still got your menses again!"
The rebuke made Beth feel small and guilty. She pulled her knees to her chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't know what else to say!"
Again using his voice of command, he said, "I am going to hand over responsibility of the camp women to someone else."
"No!" She cried, objecting as he knew he would. "They need me, William! You can't do that!"
"I can't?" He arched an eyebrow, his voice was cold. He'd just in that moment seized upon the solution to his problem - he'd discovered the means to keep Beth away from the camp women - away from discovering Linda was there - and he was determined to make her submit. "Beth, I give you a lot of leeway - a damned lot more than many husbands do. But I am speaking as both your husband and the Commander of the Legion and by God, I will not be challenged on this," he continued to hold her gaze, he saw her faltering as she began submitting to his will. "You are no longer Matron of the camp followers. You will no longer oversee - the responsibility of them will be handed to another."
"But why?" She asked. One look at his face and she knew he would not be budged. What was she going to do with herself all day, drink tea with Emily Wilkins? Sweet Lord.
"You heard Mila!" He frowned, "she spoke of what too much responsibility could do. I mean to take some from your shoulders, and perhaps then we'll have more success," he said, determined that she obey this command.
"You think that's the reason I haven't become pregnant?" She asked, incredulous.
"I will not put at risk our ability to have a child," he snapped. "When there are so many others who can manage the camp followers. It does not need to be you."
"William, women conceive under the most perilous, trying of circumstances!"
"You haven't," he snapped. Beth blanched.
He regretted his words - and his tone - immediately. Beth's eyes filled with tears and she averted her gaze, taking the rebuke to heart. He was immediately contrite and again, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.
"I'm sorry, Beth. I didn't mean it like that."
"You did," she accused. "Why is it that as soon as a woman doesn't have a babe right off, she is to blame?"
That was not a question he could answer without revealing that Linda was back in camp - and pregnant with his child.
"I do not hold you to blame for not conceiving," he said instead. "I merely wish to eliminate the issues that I believe might be adding to our problem. As you pointed out, your mother bore eight children. But did she have the management of sixty camp women, added to her responsibilities as your father's wife? No, she did not. Your father would have ensured your mother was treated as she deserved, as a plantation mistress. From this point forth, I shall do the same. I've let you have your way for more than long enough, but it stops now."
"How will I fill my days?" She asked, frustrated. "Will you let me tend the sick, at least?"
"I can not refuse that request, seeing that I am one of the sick and I want you tending me," he smiled at her, attempting to win her over again. He'd won the battle, she had submitted, a potential disaster had now been averted. He would be gracious in his victory. "And when you are not tending the sick, you shall relax by the fire with your feet up, with no responsibilities, and perhaps then in another month, we'll have some good news."
"It sounds dreadfully boring," she said, huffing a sullen breath. But she would not argue further. Her stomach was cramping with the menses she did not want, her courses which was the root of their argument, being evidence that she was not pregnant. And she was too worried for Cilla, to argue further. "Mrs. Andrews. I nominate Mrs. Andrews to take my place, at least until I'm with child. And then -"
"You weren't listening," he said, voice hard again. "I will have you resting, even after our child is conceived."
"And when it's born?" She arched an eyebrow, irritation growing again.
"We shall discuss it then," he said, voice firm.
By then, she would be too busy with the raising of their child to nag him into restoring her as matron of the camp followers, he hoped. In removing from her the responsibilities of the camp followers, her body would indeed be under less strain. Also, she had would now have no further reason to visit the camp. In one fell swoop, he had damned near eliminated Beth's chances of discovering Linda. He was determined that this would not be changed, even when she did fall pregnant. He would keep her from camp - and away from Linda.
"Mrs. Andrews is an excellent choice - she will be informed immediately," he told her. He cupped her face. "I am sorry, Beth. I am disappointed, I will not deny it. But I know that you are every bit as disappointed."
"I am," she admitted, lip trembling.
"Then we are in accord," he kissed her forehead.
She nodded, perhaps he was right. It was quite stressful for her at times, seeing the woeful condition of the women, the heavy workload which she could only do so much to ease, and hearing their problems, which she could not do much about usually. Mrs. Andrews was a caring soul, and firm as well. She would take the women in hand, Beth was not abandoning them. Was she? She felt as though she was… perhaps she should have fought William a little harder…
"I love you," he said, his lips drifting from he forehead, down her cheek, to brush along her lips. She sighed, melting beneath his touch.
"I love you," she said gravely.
"Don't worry so," he nudged his nose against hers. "All will be well. You'll bear me ten children, no doubt, and all of them will be damned terrors."
"If they are, it'll be your fault, not mine. You'll be too soft," she wrapped her arms around his neck. He laughed down at her, thinking it was absurd that anyone would believe he was too soft. Beth lay in his arms for a short while, before the intense heat radiating from his body recalled her to her task. She rose and wrung out another cloth, washing him down and laying folded, wet strips on his forehead. When she pressed the laudanum laced wine on him, he drank deeply and within a few minutes, he was fast asleep.
Fearing Mr. And Mrs. Turnbull would become suspicious of where his true devotion lay, Bordon tried not to stare at Harmony, who they knew as "Mrs. Campbell". Harmony was seated across from him in the Turnbull's small parlour, she kept her eyes lowered and he knew she must be feeling the same.
"You are doing the Crown a very great service," Bordon was saying to the two Loyalists, who straightened their backs, looking proud and pleased. "You have our gratitude and our admiration. We will not pretend that what this task we have given to you is not dangerous, for it is. If any rebels were to discover that Mrs. Campbell is here, they will come for her, that much I am certain of."
He wasn't exaggerating. If Farshaw learned where Harmony was, it would become very dangerous for both her and the Turnbull's. And Farshaw had been a rebel, so he wasn't entirely lying there, either.
"I shall, therefore, leave two of my Green Dragoons here to guard her," he continued, for indeed, Farshaw was a British Officer now and he could waltz into British held Pembroke whenever the hell he wished. "It would be better if you tried to keep to yourself that you have a lodger, and it would be better if Mrs. Campbell did not leave your house."
"Not even for church?" Mr. Turnbull asked reluctantly.
"Sir, unless you can be absolutely certain of the entire congregation, then no. Not even to church," Bordon said and the Turnbull's exchanged a troubled glance. "Having said that, Mrs. Campbell," he said and Harmony lifted her face, met his eyes, and it was all he could do to not rush to her, to start kissing her. "Those rebel spies you told me about have been sighted."
"Oh dear," she murmured. He could see her longing and her amusement shining in her eyes.
"Yes. Now, I know it is a lot to ask for, but I need you to identify them. They are on the road and travelling hard, but we shall catch up to them and then you can confirm it is they. I will keep you safe every step of the journey, and I will return you here tomorrow, the day after at the latest. One night, or two, is all I ask."
"If you think it will help." He saw the fleeting grin the flared over her face.
"It will. It will certainly soothe my soul," he said, holding her gaze. He continued brusquely, "to have those spies confirmed that I can deal with them."
"To think, more spies among the British Legion," Turnbull said. "After you hanging a few only a couple months ago!"
"I know," Bordon shrugged. "That is the problem with recruiting among the local populace. Most of the men who answered the call to recruit are true and can be relied upon. Unfortunately, it left the way open for those who are not to seize the opportunity to join as well. To let those outside know of our plans."
"Horrid," Mrs. Turnbull said. She turned to Harmony. "How did you discover them, Mrs. Campbell?"
"I overheard them talking before they rode out," Harmony lied, making it up as she went along. "One of them saw me listening and he chased me when I ran away."
"Dear Lord, you must have been terrified."
"I was," Harmony agreed. "I got away from him, but he got away from the Legion before I was able to warn Colonel Tavington and," she looked at Richard. "Major Bordon. By then, his companions had already departed - Tavington thinking they were obeying his commands - but who knows what they're truly doing? If that soldier has reached them and told them I know they are all spies…" she feigned a shudder.
"Perhaps… Sir, if Mrs. Campbell has already identified them, surely there is no reason to take her to do so again? It's far too dangerous," Mrs. Turnbull said. "What if they attack you, she will be at risk!"
"What if we capture them and they are the wrong men?" Bordon said.
"Bring them back here for her to identify them," Mr. Campbell said. All good advice, Bordon reasoned, but none of it would allow him to remove Harmony for a few nights.
"No. It must be done this way. I truly am grateful for all you have done. Colonel Tavington has expressed his gratitude as well. Thank you," he began to rise. "And thank you for the offer of your carriage, that Mrs. Campbell can travel in privacy with no one the wiser. Mrs. Campbell, if you could pack a small bag, I promise you, I shall have you returned on the morrow. The following, at the latest."
"As long as you need, Sir," she said, rising and then curtsying. "I am pleased to serve you and am at your disposal."
He hid a grin.
A short time later, they were on the road with a score of Dragoons for protection. They did not have nearly so far to travel as he'd told the Turnbull's. They were not chasing down spies masquerading as soldiers of the British Legion. They were going to Doux Ruisseau - James Wilkins Plantation, which was only a few miles away. As soon as they had left Pembroke, away from prying eyes, Bordon had climbed into the carriage where he and Harmony spent the rest of the journey in one another's arms, kissing and relishing being together again.
Now, he was escorting Harmony through the massive, imposing hall and she was staring at all the finery like a poor, country bumpkin.
"No wonder she thinks so highly of herself," Harmony said, her fingers alighting on the polished bannister as she stood before the wide, curving, carpeted staircase. "Couldn't you have taken me somewhere else, Richard? I don't want to be in Emily's house."
"No, Harm. This is the best place for us. It's close enough to Fresh Water that we will be safe and Captain Wilkins staff will make ourselves at our disposal, as I am his superior."
"But you said he was away from the fort, you have no idea if he'd agree to us coming here or not," she said, turning to face him.
"When we first arrived to the county, he told us to come here. His house is our house, he said," Bordon said. "Stop worrying - let's go upstairs, where we can put our time to better use." He smiled and took her arm.
"Well, I did promise to serve you," she grinned and he laughed. They followed a servant upstairs to one of the chambers, where they were left alone for the first time in far too long. Truly alone, for in the carriage, they had still had Bordon's outriders. Now, it was just the two of them. Bordon's heart gave a small leap.
Harmony, after so long of waiting, was finally in his arms again. Her scent surrounded him. Her body shook as she sobbed into his neck. It had been far too long. Too damned long.
"I missed you so," she whispered.
"I know you did," he smiled. "And I most certainly missed you."
He cupped her face with his large hands and kissed her. It was glorious, he was drowning and she was saving him. She gripped his shoulders and whimpered, pressing herself against him.
"God, I'm so glad I left!" She gasped between kisses. "If this is to be the outcome!"
"I imagine you were quite scared," he guided her to the bed.
"Terrified," she agreed. "But it's all over now."
"He will be looking for you," Bordon shook his head, refusing to believe she was safe. "Which is why I'm leaving the twins to watch over you at the Turnbull's. Christ, I love you."
"I love you," she gripped his ears and pulled him downward, tugging until he was laying along side her. He couldn't stop touching her, his hands moving over her arms, her hips, the gentle swell of her stomach, where their baby lay peacefully within.
"Have you kept your vow?" She asked him. Her fingers had already unbound his hair and she wound her fingers through those cinnamon locks now, and she gripped far too tightly. "I vow, Richard, if you've bedded her -"
"I have not, and nor will I," he said, wincing with pain. He locked eyes with her. Christ, that hold was hurting!
"It's bad enough you've married her. I want to lay with you, I do, but Christ, Richard, I want to slap you stupid as well!"
He kissed her face, her cheeks were flushed with grief, fury, happiness, desire.
"Please, my love… Our time is precious, we might not be able to fool the Turnbull's twice. We likely won't be able to come back here and I don't waste a moment discussing her…"
Harmony heard the grief in his voice, the utter despair and she gazed up at him solemnly, worried. She sighed heavily. Linda had told her what she'd overheard, Cilla herself had told Emily Wilkins that they were not bedding one another. There was no point in pursuing the question. She and Richard had discussed Cilla extensively in the letters they had traded, and she found she did not want to speak of the girl again now either. They had said all there could be said on the subject and wasting their time talking about it would not alter anything. He would still be married to another woman, Cilla would still be carrying his child… Harmony loosened her hold on his hair, and began stroking his face gently.
"I've been so lost," he whispered, now that she had softened. He could admit such things to her, but only to her. "So lost. I thought I was going mad. He swooped in and took you and everyone supported it because he's your damned husband! And then he beat you and I couldn't even be there for you while you healed and I was forbidden to touch him - I could not challenge him and if he died mysteriously I would have been questioned and -"
"Oh, my darling, you would not have killed him would you?" she asked, shocked.
"My finger would not have even trembled on the trigger," he ground out. "I still want to kill him. I want to see his blood, so damned badly!"
She continued to stroke his face, smoothing the deep frown lines from his brow.
"It's all over," she whispered, soothing. "I'm free of him. We're together again, as much as we can be. I'm done with being fussy, I'll settle for anything I can have of you," she deliberately avoided any more mention of his wife, who had usurped Harmony's place. "Promise me that when Cornwallis begins his push into North Carolina and when he recalls you from Fresh Water, you will take me with you," she said, demanding. "You owe me, Richard. You owe me this so, so much! Promise me that you will not set a single foot from Fresh Water without me."
"On my honour as a Gentleman and as an Officer and as your beloved, I vow I will not leave you behind," he said, as firmly as she. "I will ensure that she remains there - at Fresh Water. She will not accompany us. As for Farshaw, I'll do what I can to keep you hidden from him, which will be easy enough if he remains under O'Hara's command." There won't be any reason for Farshaw to visit the British Legion once the two regiments leave Fresh Water.
Hearing the oath from his own lips, Harmony relaxed beneath him. She stretched in contentment, the cat who ate the cream.
"I do like the sound of that," she said, smiling. He laughed softly. Leaning in, he brushed his lips to hers and she draped her arms around his head. All that needed to be said, had been.
When they were free of Fresh Water, Cilla and Calvin would both be far from either of them and they could finally continue with their lives. Harmony melted in Richard's embrace, she sighed as he again began stroking her body all over. Every part of her was familiar and beloved, though her stomach was certainly swelling, as he discovered when he had her disrobed and laying naked beside him. He smiled down at that swell, a small smile quirking his lips as he stroked her lazily.
"My child won't be raised by Farshaw," he said, his smile broadening, meeting her gaze. "I was so afraid of that. He's such a bastard, he might have beaten the child even thinking it was his… I worried about what my boy would grow into, living with a father such as Farshaw."
"I worried about that too," Harmony confessed. "But I'm shed of him now, I'll think of him no more. You will raise this child, Richard. I don't care anymore if the world knows it's a bastard or not. It's your child, and that's all that matters."
"I couldn't agree more," he leaned down and kissed her stomach while she watched him with a fond look. "Do you hear me, little one? I shall acknowledge you, you will have my name and by God, you'll have the best of everything," he lifted his head and asked her, "do you think he can hear me?"
"Perhaps. You know, he won't need the best of everything, Richard. He has you, now. And you're the best thing he could ever have."
"Come here, you," laughing, he scooped her up into his arms. "Nobody loves me like you do."
"And no one ever will," she said archly. "Except perhaps the little one," she smiled down at her stomach.
"Will it harm the baby if we..?"
"I'll harm you, if we don't," she laughed. She reached down between their bodies, her hand searching blindly until her fingers wrapped around his hardened shaft. She stroked him gently, her thumb and fingers caressing and exploring. He did the same, his palm moving down her body. He parted her thighs and stroked her with gentleness bordering reverence. He felt the keen need to prostrate himself before her. Instead, he knelt for her, between her legs, and lowered his lips to her sex, to pay her homage. Harmony threw back her head, her fingers clutching the sheets as she writhed with joy, affection and utter bliss. He licked and stroked her through her orgasm, with extreme patience, only stopping when her body was calm and languid beneath him.
"Hmmm," she sighed, gazing up at him through dazed eyes. "Just like old times."
"And this?" He asked as he began to press his marble shaft into her. "Is this just like old times?"
"Oh..." She moaned and bit her lip, and she reached for his arms as he impaled her.
"Tiresome, is it?" He whispered against her ear, thrusting in slowly to the hilt.
"I could never get tired of you," she met his lips, kissing him, as she met his thrusts.
"I could tell that," he smirked, nudging his nose against hers. "As soon as I slipped in. You are dripping for me, my darling."
She couldn't have agreed more and as the flame within her began to blaze like a bonfire, she wrapped her legs over his thighs and pressed him with the heels of her feet, urging him to take her harder, demanding a greater gallop from him. He remained in steadfast control, refusing to indulge her, lest he cause damage to their unborn child. And it was all the more pleasurable for it. That tortuously slow ascendance paid off, his body seemed to shatter to splinters. Tranquility and gratification, a slow but strong release, carried him toward the heavens. He stopped moving, frozen above her during that interminable pleasure. Harmony, also in raptures, rolled her pelvis, driving him within her, until she arched her back, and then collapsed to the pillows.
He withdrew, gathered her into her arms, and kissed her slowly.