Chapter 96 - Too Close for Comfort:

Carrying a tray balanced against one hip, Beth opened the door and ventured into the darkened room. She closed the door behind her, then blinked, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the gloom. Outside, it was a bright sunny, if cool, morning, but the heavy drapes provided an effective wall against the light. Several candles were lit - not many, for too bright a light stung the eyes of those afflicted with yellow fever. It was strange to be entering her father's chamber, and not seeing him there. Each time she entered to tend to Banastre, she felt that same, eerie feeling. It had been so long since she'd seen her father. When her eyes adjusted, she peered around the room. It was not so different from how her father had left it. There was a deer's head mounted to the wall, the long imposing antlers jutting out from its head. It made for quite a sinister sight, with the candles lighting it from beneath. Benjamin had been very proud of that kill. There was his large closet of course, and her mother's dressing table, a small stand table beside the bed. She placed the tray, with its bowl of broth and slices of bread, on that table.

Banastre lay sprawled across the large bed, auburn hair in sweaty, stringy strands fanned out across the pillows, the covers tossed back. He had the look of death about him, a horrible grey pallor to his cheeks. Beth moved closer, she placed the backs of her fingers to his forehead. Her fingers burned, he was so damned hot. He stirred, whispered something, then continued sleeping. On the table by the bed, near to where she'd placed the tray, was a bottle of wine, and a bottle of laudanum. Banastre had been living on both since he fell ill, even before reaching Fresh Water three days ago. She was becoming increasingly worried for him, his fever had raged for far too long. His chest was bare, he refused to wear a shirt and always shoved his blankets away from his body. Beth could make out the light spattering of auburn hair which circled his nipples and lined his stomach. He wore drawers loosely tied, thank the sweet Lord - he was not entirely naked. The sight of him almost nude stirred something within her - something she knew she should not feel, something to be pushed down deep. It was only normal that she would feel something for him still, how could she not? Considering the nights she'd spent in his arms, as those hands explored her body, warming her. Loving her. She pulled her eyes away and resumed a critical study of the chamber.

The Colonel's bags and chest made an untidy bulk, spilling across one corner of the room. His clothes tossed in an equally untidy heap all around them. Beth sighed, exasperated. She'd asked one of his men only a few hours earlier to tidy away that mess. She parted one heavy drape - only by an inch or so - allowing some small amount of light to filter in. It couldn't be good for him, the constant darkness, and the amount she let in should not be enough to hurt his eyes. With a heavy sigh, she began tidying his clothes. Beth was not alone in caring for those laid up in their beds - doctors from the Legion were tending them. But Doctors did not pick up after themselves, they did not tidy away soiled clothing, they did not bother to air out the chambers. A host of Privates had been set to doing the hard labour, the house was crawling with them, as was the camp. But none of them thought to crack open a window...

And they had clearly forgotten her request to tidy his baggage. Men, she scoffed, tossing her head. It was a woman's touch that was needed - not only for Banastre, but for those others in the house who were ill.

Beth glanced at several shirts before tossing them in the pile to be laundered. She did not study them too closely, she had no desire to learn if those stains were caused by mud - or blood. Either way, they were soiled and they would be washed. She set to the task of folding the shirts that were actually clean, and packing them away. She supposed that his damned Aide had pulled out every item of clothing in the search of one particular shirt, and then didn't put any of it back.

Useless.

Beth tugged at what she thought was another shirt amidst the pile. But when she tugged on the corner of, it just kept coming. Not a shirt then, but something very long and rectangular in shape. She frowned as she held the large shape up to the sparse light. It was as long as her arms were when stretched wide, and it draped halfway to the floor. Across its front was embroidered several images - a star in one corner, a snake in the other and in the middle, a Palmetto tree.

A flag then. And with the Palmetto tree emblazoned on the front, it had to have belonged to one of the Regiments of South Carolina. She dropped her arms and stared over at Banastre, the man who had seized the flag, no doubt after quelling the Patriot force who had carried it. It was a trophy, proof of his triumph over a Regiment of Patriots. Beth blew out a vexed breath. She carefully folded the flag, reverently. It was not her father's, but it could have been... She was tempted to steal it, to deny Banastre the ability to crow over his victory, but she knew she would incur William's wrath if she did. He was still not speaking to Banastre, but in a matter such as this, he would side with his fellow Commander in a heartbeat. She placed the folded flag into the bottom of his chest, then continued to fold his clothes until the floor was tidy again, and the bags and chest closed. She glanced around the room, thinking it was much better now.

Her father's bed chamber should not be treated as a dumping ground.

"Beth?" A hoarse whisper. Forgetting the flag for now, Beth went to sit on the bed beside Banastre. He tried to elbow himself up, and Beth placed two more pillows beneath him.

"It's better if you're reclined," she said, fussing and primping the pillows.

"Are you alright?" He reached for her hand, bought it to his dry lips. "I heard them talking. You're sick, they said. I couldn't move to come to you myself, though and -"

"I'm well. It's Cilla who was sick, though she is on the mend now," she told him. He was still holding her hand, her fingers were still pressed to his lips. Knowing William would be furious, she gently pulled free of Banastre's limp grasp. "You don't need to worry about me, I doubt very much I'll get this," she said. "I'm as strong as a bull."

He was too tired to do more than smile weakly. He stared up at her, his eyes lingering, searching her face. From the moment he'd arrived at the plantation, she'd known that his feelings for her were unchanged. How he could still be in love with her, she could not understand. Especially when she had overheard his Officers gossiping about the string of women he'd been taking to his bed.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him.

"Better than the last few days," he said. "Lord, I don't think I've ever been this sick."

"It's not pleasant, for certain."

"Have you any news from the Legion?" He asked her as she held a glass of water up to his lips. He took the opportunity to wrap the fingers of both hands around her wrist as he drank. It took her a moment to realise he was asking after his own Legion, not William's.

"Snippets only. There's far too much happening here, I have not enquired deeper. Lord, it's terrible - I feel like I'm in the middle of a battle myself. Dalton is down, he took to his bed a few days ago. And now Major Bordon has, too. It comes on so quickly! It's madness."

"And you think you're immune?" Banastre asked her, scoffing softly. "Who is in charge of Tavington's Legion, then, with both Commanders down?"

At least Banastre still had his Major - Hanger had assumed command of Tarleton's Dragoons.

"General O'Hara," Beth replied. "O'Hara has been sending messengers over to William, they are conferring with one another as best they can, but O'Hara has full command."

Banastre frowned, his expression shifting to one of concern for all of those who were suffering from the fever. Beth placed the glass on the table and after wringing out a cloth, she began washing the sweat from his brow. "I could get used to this, I enjoy being bathed by you," he grinned a boyish grin up at her. She laughed softly. "Do you remember that time..?"

Beth closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Yes, she remembered. During his stay at the Plantation, back when they were lovers, they had shared a bath together. It had been an enjoyable evening, each bathing the other, the wash cloth moving over their dips and valleys, his moving over her breasts, hers moving lower, beneath the water...

"We shouldn't talk about it," she chided, the cloth moving down to his neck now.

"You were mine before you were ever his," Banastre's lips curled for a moment, a split second, before his grin was back. "You could wash me a little lower... Actually, far lower..."

"Don't be stupid," she laughed. "I'm a married woman now. Besides. You're in no condition for any of that sort."

"Am too," he made as though to pull unlace his drawers, but she seized his hands and pushed the away.

"Enough," she said sternly. "I feel sorry for Miss Middleton, if this was how you behave when she sits with you."

"Ah, she's a sweet soul," he said, dropping his hands listlessly to his sides. She was quite correct, he was in no condition to dally, though it had been amusing to try. "And no, I've been a perfect Gentleman."

"Is that so? A Gentleman with her, a rogue with me," she huffed.

"Always," he sighed, gazing at her dreamily. She laughed again.

"You shall spend your time with me as you do her, Colonel Tarleton, or you shall spend no more time with me at all," she said loftily. He arched an amused eyebrow, for he'd seen her face warm with pleasure, he knew she was well pleased by his answer. She continued, "so, what does Miss Middleton do - does she read to you?"

"Nothing so polite and boring as that," he snorted. "No, my love. We gossip."

"Gossip!" Beth laughed.

"Gossip," he said firmly. He managed to sit up. A tray was set on his lap holding a bowl of chicken broth. "Tell me about James Wilkins and his dear wife Emily," he said as she dabbed soup from his chin. He needed a shave, but she would have to entrust his aide to that - she would not attempt such a task. "I'm on the edge of my seat, my love. What do you think his reaction will be when he learns of her infidelity?"

"Rebecca told you about that?" Beth squeaked, shocked.

"I told you, we spend our time gossiping," he chuckled. "I find true life can be far more entertaining than the most intriguing romance novel, don't you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head, her lips moving as if in prayer.

"I still can't believe it. An affair with Lieutenant Farshaw! I can't imagine it, I really can't. But you know, between you and me, I don't think it's fair that she was punished without James here to defend her."

"Would he have defended her, if he were here? She's been unfaithful, Beth. If you ask me, he ought to take his riding crop to her bare rump himself. I know I bloody would."

"You're such a brute, you all are," Beth huffed. She shoved the next spoon full in a little too forcibly and Banastre's eyes bulged. Good. She tried not to laugh at him, for she really was quite irritated by it all. "I still think it's awfully unfair - her birching. I was already angry with Major Bordon and truly, I haven't been able to even look at him for days now."

"Why?" He asked.

Beth began to explain everything that had happened; she began with some of what had taken place between Calvin, Harmony and Richard. She kept mostly to details that were well known, and did not repeat too much of what was not. Banastre was, after all, a very great gossip.

"Poor bastard," Banastre said, when Beth told him that Farshaw had discovered Harmony had been meeting with Richard, and of Richard losing Harmony all over again. "I know only too well the heartache of losing ones beloved to another man," he reached for her hand again and Beth sighed. Banastre was melancholy now, he stroked her fingers gently, his eyes locked on their linked hands. She did not have the heart to pull away this time, not when he was wearing such a heart stricken look.

She continued, telling him that Emily had learned of Bordon and Harmony's affair, and that she had ensured the information would be slipped to Calvin Farshaw, who beat Harmony's ruthlessly. "Poor Harmony, you should have seen her after that beating, it was dreadful. But to sentence Mrs. Wilkins to a birching? When in truth, the fault lay entirely with those having the affair, and the husband who did the beating. I pointed out to Richard that he - and even Harmony - are as much to blame for Farshaw's reaction, they were the ones having an affair, knowing what a violent temper he has!"

"They certainly should have been clever enough to not be caught."

"Yes, that's what they should have done," Beth said, sarcastic. "Anyway, and then Farshaw was flogged - for grievously insulting a Superior Officer, they said. What they did not announce publicly, was the the whipping was for his and Emily's infidelity. He was strung to a post and received thirty lashes."

"He should have received more than that, considering everything he's done," Banastre sniffed.

"I agree. A hangman's noose would have been more fitting," Beth placed the empty bowl on the side stand.

"So what is happening with Mrs Wilkins now?"

"She's been taken away to a cabin, I'm not allowed to know where. She's under guard and has a woman with her, and she'll stay there until James returns to deal with her. She's already been beaten for what she did to Harmony, and she'll probably be beaten again when James gets here," she sighed.

"It's no less than she deserves," Banastre said. "How is Mrs. Bordon?"

"Cilla has improved enough that she's able to sit in the parlour, if someone helps her down the stairs." Beth did not add that, with Richard sick in their bed now, Cilla wanted to be anywhere else than in their chamber. "She has taken a turn watching over you, too."

"She has?" Banastre smiled. "She is a dear. If she has suffered half as much as I have, I do feel for her."

"We need to get some flesh on your bones again, Ban," she said. "You're looking so frail... Hopefully soon you'll be able to stomach something a little more solid than broth."

"I'll try tomorrow perhaps. And only a bite or two of bread, perhaps. Just for you. So you won't worry about me."

"Well, I'm not so worried as I was," she admitted. "You have spent too much of this visit laughing and trying to get me to... Well... Let's just say that as soon as you tried to open your drawers, I knew you were going to be alright."

He laughed, though it was weaker than it had been earlier. His brief flare of energy was waning. Suddenly he lurched upward and Beth grabbed the chamber pot. She shoved it into his lap as the contents of his stomach came rushing back up again. She held his hair back from his face with one hand, rubbed his back with the other, her concern returning. He might have been able to joke with her a bit, but he was far from recovered. When the convulsions finished, she wiped his mouth with a napkin, and removed the bowl from his lap. He dropped back against the pillows with another weak groan.

"I can't stand that you would see me like this," he said, unable to meet her gaze as she placed the chamber pot on the floor. "I must look a sight… and now I've disgraced myself and -"

"Don't be stupid," she berated, voice firm. "You're sick. It's not as though you had your nose in a bottle of whiskey and then threw up. And besides, I'm here to look after you, not to admire your dashing good looks."

"But you do admire them, don't you?" He gave her a weak grin.

"Time for the laudanum, I think," she said instead of answering. She reached for the bottle and made up the tincture. He drank deeply and settled back against the pillows. Beth rose and, sensing she would probably not return for some time, he reached for her hand again and guided her back to him. "Not even a good-bye kiss?" He asked her, without a trace of amusement.

"Ban... No, no good-bye kisses," she shook her head.

"Will you come back, my love?" He asked, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

"I will," she promised.

"When?" He pressed her.

"Often. I check on you frequently during the day and throughout the night. I'll be back. I'll be here to feed you your dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. Though judging by the grip you have on my wrist, I'm fairly certain you're strong enough to feed yourself," she arched a brow and he sheepishly released her. "I will come back tonight, though I doubt you'll even know I'm here."

"I can't believe your bloody husband is letting you," he scowled. "I haven't had a chance to ask you. How is he treating you? My promise holds, if he's been hurting you, I'll kill him."

"You couldn't go a single round with a goose right now," she laughed, trying to relieve his sudden tension.

"My pistol will do my fighting for me," he said grimly.

"Stop that," she snapped, folding her arms across her chest and glaring down at him. "William is not hurting me. And he has been good enough to let me come tend to you myself, knowing fully well that you would flirt even in this condition... So just stop it," she turned from him, snatched up the chamber pot and began stalking to the door.

"You'll come back, won't you?" He called to her, trying to sit up. He was worried he'd upset her and that she might not...

"I will," she sighed, her hand on the door. "I've promised, haven't I?"

She slipped from the room. He dropped back on the pillows, heaving a sigh of relief. It had been horrid, he was so damned sick and weak and despondent because of it. Miss Middleton did her best but it was Beth's presence he found most soothing. He needed to learn to keep his mouth shut, for he did not want to anger Beth so that she would not come back to him right when he needed her most.

"You should have been there, Harm," Linda laughed as though it were the most magnificent thing in the world - the beating of Emily Wilkins. Harmony and Miss Amity Cordell sat across from her in the Turnbull's small parlour, listening as Linda retold the tale. "We were all wondering what was going on, you know, when we saw the cart trundling toward us with Emily on the bed. And then Mrs. Andrews was all matter of fact like, as she considered the order William had given her. She mulled it over, like she was trying to discern the full scope of the command. You know, I mean, how much she could get away with," Linda chuckled. "She decided that, well, William did say that she should not be gentle. So she gathers us all together and tells us to spread the word. Any woman who had sufficient reason to feel slighted by Emily, who wanted to take a turn in her punishment, should come forward now and present her case. I was first in line, of course!"

Harmony threw her head back and laughed. Miss Cordell sipped her tea, a small smile quirking her lips. Linda continued.

"When she saw me, Mrs. Andrews said, 'you don't need to present anything, Miss Merry, I already know your gripe,' and she passed me this thick branch. All the leaves were taken off, but it had lots of spindly twigs sticking out from it. Emily screamed when she saw me, she looked ready to shit herself!"

"Oh no!" Harmony cried. "She recognised you?"

"Hell yes, I made sure of that. Richard you see, he made it clear that Emily - fucking whore - would not be returned to the house, but kept under a strong guard in a cabin someplace. Those women in the house - and bloody Mrs. Tavington," she curled her lip, "would have no further contact with her, so there really was no danger in revealing myself."

"I like Mrs. Tavington," Miss Cordell said, hearing the hate filled undertone in Linda's voice when she spoke Beth's name.

"Oh, you like everybody, Amity," Linda snorted. "Anyway, there's no danger - Emily the fucking bitch can't tell anyone a damned thing. So she sees me and starts to scream - oh, music to my ears! But there was nothing she could do. Mrs. Andrews told the men to leave - 'this is women's business', she said to them. And then she told off three women to strip Emily down to her stockings! Did I already say I was in line first?" Harmony nodded, eager to hear more and Linda ploughed on. "So I stood there, gazing at that smooth skin - she was tied to a post by now. And I thought, you fucking bitch. And I started - Harm, I could not stop. Mrs. Andrews eventually came forward but I tell you, my arm was getting tired by then. She let me go for that long! And Emily, she was howling and spluttering. When I finished, her skin was bright red and all scratched up. And I was only the first!"

"Women were coming forward," Miss Cordell added, "claiming the most ridiculous things. They complained that Emily had looked at them funny, that she'd looked down her nose at them. I was quite shocked with them, and I didn't think that Mrs. Andrews would let them have a turn, for there was no proof. But she did! They were all allowed a turn with the birch!"

"And I stood there watching for a while and when my arm was recovered," Linda said, "I went back to Mrs. Andrews and said 'you know, if Harmony was here, she would want a go too. She was the worst used amongst us, I want to take Harm's turn -"

"Oh, you didn't!" Harmony giggled, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I did. And Mrs. Andrews agreed, because she said you're still a camp follower and you were most aggrieved and that it was justice. She let me do it and I beat Emily with that birch again… Actually, it wasn't the same birch we'd started with - that first one was long since broken up on Emily's arse. I think it was the forth one cut..."

"It was a horrible sight," Miss Cordell shuddered. "I know she's awful, but I didn't take a turn, Mrs. Farshaw. I couldn't bring myself to," the lass sounded apologetic and Harmony patted her hand gently.

"It's quite alright, I think Linda more than made up for the lack!"

"Damn right I did," Linda flexed her fingers as though wishing she still held a birch, and that Emily was laid out before her. "Mrs. Andrews was determined to do as William commanded, down to the last letter. She also doesn't want any more of that sort of foolishness. She thinks we should be as sisters and she has now shown the other women what could happen, should they think to use the same sort of dirty tricks as Mrs. Wilkins…"

"That makes sense... So she was taken to a cabin someplace?" Harmony asked. "To wait for James to return."

"She had to lay flat across the wagon bed," Linda giggled as she remembered seeing Emily climb up - with excruciating slowness - and lay face forward on the floor of the cart. Even then, she was weeping. "I reckon her shift touching her skin would've ben enough to hurt her. I could tell she wasn't wearing her stays neither, under her bodice... And then when she saw Mrs. Salisbury being delivered to the cart, she let out a god awful screech. Salisbury was weeping, I almost feel bad for her. Oh well, they're gone now!"

"Justice," Miss Cordell said and the other women nodded. Emily and Salisbury, shut up together in a cabin as they waited to be delivered to Charlestown. Which would not happen until James returned, so they would be shut up together for days. A fate worse than death, Harmony thought. She wondered if James would give Emily a second beating, for having an affair. With Calvin. Sweet Lord, what sort of a woman would want to bed Calvin willingly?

"We aught to go soon," Linda said. "I think your Richard would be quite angry with me, for not staying in camp where he can find me. He has quite a lot on his plate with running the Legion, but he told me as soon as he saw an opportunity, he'd get me to come here with him again. If I'm not in camp when that opportunity presents, then there will be no one to come here and sneak you away to the tavern to meet him. I'll probably get an earful from him, if that happened."

Harmony nodded. The Turnbull's were decent God fearing folk, Presbyterians. She liked them quite well, but she knew they would be quite appalled should their charge disappear upstairs with her male visitor. Since returning from Captain Wilkins' Plantation, she had been intimate with Richard once only, at the small tavern in Pembroke. Richard and Linda's doing - Linda had accompanied Richard to Pembroke. Linda came to the Turnbull's to visit, while waited at the tavern. After a short span, Harmony and Linda had gone out for a 'walk'. Their destination had been the tavern… Her heart quickened at the very thought.

"Yes, I think you should get back," she said. "You know. In case he finds time and wants to leave…" It had been a few days since Richard orchestrated their rendeavouz and Harmony was missing him dreadfully.

Linda snorted. "You're eager. Aching between your legs, are you?"

"Oh, please don't talk like that," Miss Cordell groaned, though Harmony merely laughed.

"For Richard, always," Harmony said, then she grew serious. "Do you know how William is?"

"No bloody idea," Linda spat, instantly furious. "He's up at the great house, sick as a dog and there's nothing I can do to help him. That fucking bitch better be looking after him, I swear. If he dies…" She trailed off, stiff with fury.

"If he does, it won't be Beth's fault," Harmony said. She wished she could wrangle a promise out of Linda, to stop speaking so horribly about Beth. Just as Beth had managed to wrangle one from Harmony, that Harmony would not speak horribly about Cilla… But Harmony needed Linda too much to protest too strongly, when she began hissing and swearing about Beth. She sighed, feeling guilty. Beth had defended her, when Cilla said horrid things about Harmony… She really should be doing the same.

"He did come to see me before he got sick," Linda said. "But we didn't have time for a proper reunion. Oh well, when he's better, I'm sure we'll be together again then." She ignored Harmony's dubious look.

"Miss Stokes!" Miss Cordell cried. "You can't! He's married now!"

Linda shrugged. "So? He promised me our affair would continue even after he married, and now he knows I'm back in camp; continue it shall." She paused, then added. "When he's better."

"Before you leave, do you have news of my husband?" Harmony asked, an edge entering her voice.

"He was whipped," Linda said gleefully and Harmony gasped in surprise. "Yes, thirty lashes for screwing the wife of a Superior Officer, though they didn't mention the screwing part. More justice for you…"

"It certainly is," Harmony said, voice firm. "I wish he'd been given more than that. Do you know if he's looking for me? Even with the Middleton twins here, I'm too scared to sleep at night. I pray each night that the servants don't talk..."

"I don't think he'd find you," Linda assured her. "And if he did, what could he do? One man against those twins? They're bigger than him and damned strong. Don't worry so, Harm, it's not good for the baby."

"Hmm," Harmony said, sighing.

"Best be off," Linda announced, rising. "Besides, I'll probably be back in an hour or two," she quipped. "And then we'll be off to that tavern so you can have another romp with your fellow."

"God speed," Harmony grinned, giggling.

The carriage trundled along the dirt road, then turned down the Turnbull's lane. Beth was finally free of the sick at Fresh Water and at long last, she was able to Harmony. Cilla was well enough to share the job of looking after Banastre. William was much better than he was. But Richard was sick and Harmony needed to know. Besides, she was dying to see her friend, and was in a fit of excitement. It had been days and so much had happened. Harmony was free, finally free! It was absolutely glorious and Beth had been longing to share in Harmony's happiness.

She pulled the curtain aside, glanced out the window and watched as the carriage came to a stop outside the side gate. Two women, both wearing hooded capes, stepped out of the gate. Beth recognised them both - Miss Cordell and Mrs. Merry. Smiling, Beth waved at them. Miss Cordell stopped dead, gaping as though in shock. After a moment's hesitation, she returned the wave, but Mrs. Merry did not. The carriage had stopped, Beth felt the dip as her driver dropped down. Waggling her fingers at the women, she made a halting gesture - silently indicating that she wanted them to wait so she could chat with them. She turned away long enough to gather up her belongings, the book she'd been reading was stowed in a small bag and she picked up the fully laden basket she'd bought for Harmony. Her driver appeared at the door, then he was opening it and helping her down. She thanked him, then turned to the women, a smile already on her lips as she made to greet them.

But by then, the two women were striding arm in arm up the avenue, away from the carriage and toward the street. Startled, Beth frowned after them, feeling the slight most keenly. Had Miss Cordell not seen her wave, had she not understood that Beth had wanted to chat for a bit? She watched them, therefore she saw when Miss Cordell glanced back over her shoulder. The girl waved good-bye at Beth with an embarrassed expression on her pretty face. Mrs. Merry still had a death grip on the girls arm, pulling her along... She did not glance back at all.

"Don't worry at it, lass," Old Lucas said soothingly. He'd known Beth her whole life, he knew her well, and he saw how offended she was, how deeply hurt.

"I suppose not everyone can like me," she said softly, her eyes boring into Mrs. Merry's back. Like hell would she call out to the pair now, and she would not run after them either! "But there's no call for being so rude. I just wanted to say hello them! To Miss Cordell, at least..."

"Only a fool wouldn't like yeh," he laughed. "Old Ben's daughter... Come now, get that smile back on yeh face. Yeh guards will start asking questions."

She glanced over at the Dragoons, who milled around the carriage. Not Brownlow and Dalton this time, those two were still laid up in bed. To the ageing servant, she asked, "do you have that list I gave you?"

"I will try and get everything yeh need," he bobbed his head. Whistling, he began walking away. The women had not looked back again, they turned onto the street and were gone. Still quite upset, Beth was unable to put them from her mind.

Beth stepped through the gate as her guard settled in to wait for her. She was accustomed to their presence by now - it had been an odd thing at first, having these men trailing after her whenever she left the house. She'd always felt guilty for leaving them to wait while she went visiting, the men seemed to accept their lot, however and she didn't even think about it anymore.

Hefting the basket, she stalked to the door, still silently raging over Mrs. Merry's rudeness.

For some reason, that woman had always been aloof with Beth. Aloof, even almost hostile. She'd worried over it at first, and she always tried to be nice to the woman, but had been unable to win her over. She'd never done anything to Mrs. Merry that she could think of...

"You have a visitor, Mrs. Campbell," Mr. Turnbull announced. Harmony glanced up, she was still unused to her new name. It was important she played the part of a widow, however. With her advancing pregnancy and no husband accompanying her. The Turnbull's were pious and would feel much better about their pregnant lodger, if she were a widow. But she could hardly use her real name, not when she was trying to hide from Calvin. She set her book aside, exulting. Richard had come! But no, Mr. Turnbull had said 'a visitor'. One. And Richard would not have come without Linda, who had only just walked out the door. When Beth glided in, her skirts swishing around her ankles, Harmony was every bit as excited as she would have been, had it been Richard.

"Beth!" She cried, jumping up from the chaise, she rushed to embrace her friend. As much as she cherished Linda's visits, she'd missed Beth dearly. Beth dropped the basket into a chair and the two women embraced, then Harmony stood back to inspect the smaller woman. "Are you well? I'm told there's sickness in the house and I was worried about you."

"Yes, there is, and I've been so busy. I am so sorry for not coming sooner," Beth apologised. The door clicked shut behind them - Mr. Turnbull departing. "I'm so sorry to tell you this, but Richard has it now too."

"Oh no!" Harmony cried, her hand over her mouth. "Will he be alright?"

Beth took hold of Harmony's hand and drew her over to the chaise. "He's sick - I won't say he's not. He started feeling tired and complained of a headache, and within a few hours, he was vomiting and feverish. We put him to bed, and I'm keeping a close eye on him. Well, clearly I'm not keeping an eye on him right now... But I've left him in good hands."

"My poor Richard! Is it yellow fever, oh God, has he got yellow fever?" Harmony asked, her voice strangled and bordering hysteria. Beth nodded gravely and Harmony bit back a sobbing gasp. "I should be there," she whispered. "Oh, he's all alone. He needs me, Beth!"

"It's just as well you're not, Harmony," Beth said, still grave. "We've had a few deaths already."

"Oh sweet Lord, don't say that," Harmony moaned, utterly distressed now.

"William has it too, I know exactly how you feel, Harmony. It's not pretty, I'll tell you that. I've never seen William so weak before, he was like a newborn babe. I was so worried for him, but I think he's getting better now. It's a horrible sickness," Beth whispered. "But Richard and William are strong. They're healthy and strongly built. They've had decent food all these months. I think it's those who are living in poorer conditions who are worst effected, those soldiers in camp who barely have shelter and all. I think William and Richard will pull through."

"Time will tell," Harmony swallowed hard. "You'll get word to me, won't you? Even if you can't come yourself. I need to know how he's doing and -"

"I'll send word to you as often as I can," Beth promised. "I know how hard it will be on you, the not knowing."

"It's going to be torture," Harmony admitted. "You'll care for him yourself, won't you?"

"Of course I will," Beth promised. "Day and night. Which does mean I won't see you very often, but when all of this is over, I'll come every day."

"You'll still send reports in the meantime, of Richard?"

Beth nodded. She might not be able to come in person, but it would be easy enough to send word to Harmony.

"There's something else you need to know," Beth began. She was both reluctant and wary of telling Harmony the news, for she loved Cilla dearly and knew her cousin was heartbroken over her loss. Beth did not think she could bear it, if Harmony showed triumph that Cilla's babe was gone. "It's about Cilla…"

"Oh yes?" Harmony brushed her skirts vigorously with her hands. She averted her gaze, her face was now hard as stone. Beth wondered if Harmony had, in some corner of her heart, hoped the illness would carry Cilla away? She could not bring herself to ask, she feared the answer far too much. She drew a deep breath.

"As a result the yellow fever, she… she lost her baby."

"Oh no!" Harmony gasped, meeting Beth's gaze again. Her chagrin was entirely unfeigned and Beth sighed with relief. At least Harmony could bring herself to mourn the innocent. "That's terrible! The poor baby! Oh…" Her eyes filled with sympathy, not with triumph. Harmony stroked her ever expanding stomach gently, she was now an expectant mother to be, commiserating another woman's loss.

"Richard was very upset about it. The poor child," Beth hung her head and whispered a prayer for the lost soul. Cilla was wretched and heartsore, but Beth kept this to herself. Harmony commiserated over the loss of the child, but she could not feel anything more for Cilla than she had earlier.

"I'm sorry," Harmony said softly. "For Richard - Lord, that was his child… And for your loss too, Beth. The baby would have been your cousin…"

Beth nodded. She noticed that Harmony was still stroking her stomach, a speculative look on her face. She wondered if Harmony felt slightly relieved about not being at Fresh Water after all. To be at Richard's side, tending him, would risk herself, and the baby.

"No chance Calvin has caught this vile thing?" Harmony asked, drawing away from the unpleasant subject.

"No, and he came to the house today!" Beth told her eagerly, she was just as pleased to skirt away from the complicated and unhappy topic.

"Why?" Harmony spluttered.

"Oh, that stupid Fallows sent him over with a message from O'Hara for William. Of all the people to send! I think William wanted to go for Calvin's throat. If he wasn't so sick, he would have!"

"I wish someone would," Harmony said fervently. "That flogging must have not been very bad at all, if he's able to walk about within days after!"

The woman looked furious, she'd been hoping that the flogging would have been so bad, that Calvin would be incapacitated for weeks.

"Mrs. Merry told you of that already, did she?' Beth asked, unable to hide the edge to her voice. Harmony froze. Had Beth seen Linda leave? If so, that was far too close for comfort! Her hands trembled in her lap. The timing would have been about right, and Beth confirmed it when she continued in an irate voice, "I saw her leaving just now, she was really very rude to me."

"Oh?" Harmony asked weakly, her voice a breathy whisper.

"I waved from the carriage and she didn't wave back," Beth began in a crisp voice. "And I signalled to them to stop so we could chat. I thought Miss Cordell was going to stop, but when I got out of the carriage I saw Mrs. Merry was dragging Miss Cordell away. As though she couldn't think of a worse fate in the world, than stopping and chatting with me. Oh well, blast her. I don't care," Beth's cheeks were blotched red and Harmony could tell that the younger woman did care and was quite upset over the snub. "Anyway, forget her. I was telling you about your husband. He was escorted into my bed chamber and he handed a letter to William, and said that he had been instructed to scribe William's reply. I wanted to ask him when he'd been promoted to such a lofty position as messenger boy? But I kept my mouth shut. Perhaps there was no one else Fallows could send. The illness is spreading through O'Hara's ranks, as well. Anyway, William handled the situation quite well. He was cold to Calvin but William is such a good Commander, he did not let it perturb him. Calvin sat in a chair with a lap desk and scribbled as William spoke his reply. I'll say this, he wasn't sitting easily. He kept shuffling around on his seat as though he were in pain - so that flogging was not gentle by any stretch."

"Well too bloody bad," Harmony said decisively. "After what he did to me, it was less than he deserved. Forget him - oh, my poor Richard… I feel so useless, I should be there for him, but now I feel guilty because I'm glad I'm not… the baby, you know and -"

The door opened again and Harmony bit off what she had been about to say. Mrs. Turnbull entered, with a servant following behind her. The servant carried a tray of tea and scones.

"I understand," Beth said, squeezing Harmony's hand. She then glanced up at Mrs. Turnbull.

"Mrs. Tavington," the woman curtsied - she curtsied! Beth was utterly astonished. Having been raised in Reverend Oliver's Parish, she'd known Mrs. Turnbull her whole life. And she could not remember a single instance in the past when Mrs. Turnbull had curtsied for anyone! But the Loyalist woman was gushing, ready to greet the Colonel's wife as though Beth were the most revered person in the Colonies.

"Mrs. Turnbull," Beth inclined her head. "How are you?"

"Quite well, quite well. Not like those poor souls at Fresh Water though, hmm? I've heard at least a quarter of the soldiers are ill."

"Yes, it's not a pleasant place to be just now," Beth agreed.

"I've had tea bought for you and Mrs. Campbell," she said, as though Beth could not see the tray with its steaming pot. To Harmony, Mrs. Turnbull said, "you're popular this morning! Miss Merry is such a good friend to you, visiting so often as she does and this time, she bought that delightful young girl with her - Miss Cordell. And now you have Mrs. Tavington visiting as well."

"Yes, I'm rather lucky," Harmony said weakly, her eyes darting. Beth was a little surprised to see Harmony looking so nervous all of a sudden. Then again, perhaps it was worry more than nerves - her concern over Richard which she could not continue to express now with Mrs. Turnbull present. The servant slipped out and Mrs. Turnbull lingered, she appeared to be hoping for an invitation to join them. Not wanting to appear rude - this was Mrs. Turnbull's house, after all. And the woman had been at her wedding - Beth gave it and Mrs. Turnbull plonked herself down in a chair, then began to pour the tea. It was not proper tea, rather an infusion of herbs and dried fruits, and it smelled delightful. Beth accepted hers willingly, she took a sip and sighed with pleasure. It was bitter and sweet all at once, lemons and strawberries and honey. Delicious. She would have to get the recipe before she left.

"You know, I'm quite surprised to see Mrs. Merry's growing stomach - the woman is with child!" Mrs. Turnbull spoke as though she assumed that Beth knew Mrs. Merry - and her history - as well as she did. "Of course, it's been some time since she resided here, but she never mentioned being pregnant, though she must have been, judging by how far along she is now."

"She lived here?" Beth asked, startled. She knew so little of the woman. All she did know about Mrs. Merry, was that Mrs. Merry did not like her.

"Oh yes," Mrs. Turnbull looked startled now. "You didn't know?"

"No, why do you imagine I would?" Beth cocked her head to one side as she studied the older woman. "I don't know much about the woman at all, I only met her when I started managing the camp women."

"Oh well, I assumed that as you know Mrs. Campbell, who is here at Colonel Tavington and Major Bordon's behest, then you must know Mrs. Merry also."

"Colonel Tavington sent Mrs. Merry to live here?" Beth frowned.

"It was more Major Bordon's idea, then Colonel Tavington's. Private Merry died," Harmony said to Beth, hating herself for lying even as the words continued to tumble from her lips. But Richard and Linda had begged her - on William's behalf as well - not to mention any of it to Beth. With great reluctance, and feeling like the worst of betrayers, she continued, "and Mrs. Merry was pregnant. She couldn't really stay anymore, not without her husband, so she was settled here where she could be safe and provided for. But then Private Cox began to court her came for marriage, and he took her back to the camp again." There. An explanation given and no mention of Tavington's involvement at all. Harmony really hated herself in that moment.

"That explains much," Mrs. Turnbull said.

"Well, it doesn't explain why Mrs. Merry is so cold toward me," Beth said, heaving a breath. Then she threw her hands up. "But oh well, I'm no longer the matron for the camp followers, therefore Mrs. Merry is not my problem."

"Oh, why is that, Mrs. Tavington?" Mrs. Turnbull asked.

"My husband is trying to reduce my responsibilities, he is worried that I've taken on too many duties," Beth replied. "We're trying for our first child, you see, and he is insisting I do nothing but rest. Not that I've had much of that," she laughed. "For no sooner did he announce that he was removing that duty from me, did sickness strike us like lightening and I've barely had any rest since!"

"How is poor Colonel Tavington?" Mrs. Turnbull asked. "And Colonel Tarleton, too? I've heard he has returned to Fresh Water?"

"Yes. He was in quite a vulnerable position, laid up sick with only a few Dragoons to protect him and Lord Cornwallis became frantic for his safety, so he was returning to Fresh Water to convalesce. They are both still laid up in bed, but they are on the mend," Beth replied. "Major Bordon has it now, he is dreadfully ill."

Harmony hung her head, and Beth regretted giving her this awful reminder about how sick Bordon is.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mrs. Turnbull said. "I'm told Mrs. Bordon is your cousin, is that true?"

"Yes," Beth said, suddenly wary. She shot a glance at Harmony, whose face closed over.

"It came as quite a surprise, I hope you don't mind me saying. We read the Banns announcing Major Bordon's engagement to Miss Jutland and at first, we were hoping there would be a grand wedding at Fresh Water. But the next thing we heard was that Major Bordon was married to Miss Putman, who I remembered to be your mother's brother's daughter. It was all quite startling."

This was an opening for Beth to explain. She shared another look with Harmony, who was now burying her face in her glass.

"Well, yes, Miss Jutland had thought her husband was dead only he was very much alive. He learned where she was when he read about her engagement in the broadsheets, and he came to Fresh Water to announce himself."

"I'd heard that. What is quite startling is why she would call herself Miss Jutland then?" Mrs. Turnbull said, disapproving.

"Because that is her name," Harmony said with an edge to her voice.

"No, Mrs. Campbell. Her name was Mrs. Farshaw, from the moment she married," Mrs. Turnbull corrected. "I've heard many scandalous things about her. If you ask me, Major Bordon had a lucky escape - he has married far more appropriately in marrying your cousin, Mrs. Tavington."

Beth was frozen to the spot, completely unsure how to answer. 'Thank you,' was the response Mrs. Turnbull was expecting, for the woman thought she was giving Cilla, and by extension Beth, a compliment.

"What scandalous things were those?" Harmony asked and Beth stifled a groan.

"Oh, not things I can repeat in such delicate Company," Mrs. Turnbull said.

"Yes, I agree, it would be… impolite to speak of certain things," Harmony continued. Beth could hear the bitterness in her voice, though Mrs. Turnbull seemed not to notice it. "However, we're all married women, we should be able to discuss such things frankly. You'll be doing us a service, in telling us - we'll know to keep a wide berth of the woman, if we know the truth about her."

"Mrs. Campbell," Beth whispered, shaking her head at Harmony, silently begging her to stop. "There's no need to continue, Mrs. Turnbull. I am already well acquainted with Mrs. Farshaw and I know her to be an honest woman who has been dealt an awful hand. She was quite devastated that she could not marry Major Bordon - her husband is a mean spirited sort of fellow with an awful temper. I love my cousin and I wish her all the happiness in the world, but I wish it had not come at Mrs. Farshaw's expense." Mrs. Turnbull cocked her head, she looked terribly confused.

"What things, Mrs. Campbell?" Harmony repeated, refusing to be put off so lightly.

Mrs. Turnbull shifted her perplexed, uneasy glance from Beth and settled it on Harmony.

"I believe you are quite correct, Mrs. Campbell. It probably is for the best that you are warned about Mrs. Farshaw. Pastime, in fact," Mrs. Turnbull said with a glance at Beth, who had declared Harmony to be one of her acquaintances. Beth sucked in a vexed breath. She had been trying to make Harmony feel better about herself but all she'd done was convince Mrs. Turnbull that a deeper explanation of Mrs. Farshaw's sins was necessary - to open Beth's eyes about her. She glared at Harmony, but her friend's attention was fixed solely on Mrs. Turnbull. "I'm told that they were having relations out of wedlock. Miss Jutland - or Mrs. Farshaw - liked to drink and to flirt, and those among her friends are the even looser sort - women that bed for money."

Beth cast her eyes downward at this reminder of Harmony's friendship with Linda.

"Hmm, she sounds positively villainous," Harmony said, catching Beth's gaze. "You should end your friendship with Mrs. Farshaw immediately, Mrs. Tavington."

"Perhaps you should, Mrs. Tavington," Mrs Turnbull agreed.

"Right now, I'm thinking that ending my friendship with Mrs. Farshaw isn't a bad idea at all," Beth scowled at Harmony, whose irritation vanished immediately. Harmony hid a grin behind her glass. "Let's chat about something else," Beth suggested. The others agreed and they began to speak of inane things, how glad they were that summer was over and the cooler weather was coming. Of the dreadful rains, which none of them could be glad of. Of the illness sweeping through camp and gossip about the families of Pembroke, as supplied by Mrs. Turnbull. They spent some time going through the basket of items Beth had bought for Harmony, handkerchiefs and socks and other things Beth had thought Harmony might need. She worried if it would be this way every time she visited Harmony - if Mrs. Turnbull would sit in with them. She hoped not, for she wanted to speak frankly with Harmony, not couch her words and give silent messages, or have poor Harmony forced to sit there while Mrs. Turnbull repeated gossip about 'Mrs. Farshaw' and her scandalous ways.

"Mrs. Tavington, you must get a message to your husband for me, if you don't mind," Mrs. Turnbull said as she poured another round of tea, showing no sign of departing any time soon.

"What message?" Beth frowned.

"It's about Reverend Oliver. You know, he still holds his sermons here in Pembroke. Not in the church of course, for he's a known rebel and the British fort is far too close. And he doesn't hold them regularly. But he's been riding with the rebels for a while now and he comes here because he knows most of his flock trust him. It's taking advantage of them, is what it is. They trust him, they trust his words. He preaches at them and when he's finished, some of them drop what they are doing, they leave their families behind and they march off with him when he goes."

"And what has he been preaching, to make our men up and leave?" Beth asked after a moment's surprise.

"Patriotism. Insurrection. Rebellion. Independence," Mrs. Turnbull spat the words primly. "He is trying to rile his congregation with his fine words, and as I said, many of them have been marching off to join those traitors. Every second or third Sunday he comes, but he appears in a different place each time. We Loyalists are outnumbered by Patriots in these parts, and they have managed to keep the locations and times quiet, amongst themselves. But we've started to hear whispers, and I believe that Oliver is going to preach to the folk again, this Sunday at Cosgrove Bridge. No doubt another troupe of children will be carted away by his speeches. Two o'clock, I'm told, that's when it will take place. Something aught to be done, Mrs. Tavington. You'll be sure to tell him, won't you?"

Beth could barely breathe. She stared at Mrs. Turnbull, who was patiently waiting for Beth's agreement. But the girl was busy worrying over what William would do about it, if she told him.

If? Stupid girl, what was she thinking? She had no choice but to tell him. She'd vowed to be Loyal to him and here was this Loyalist, entrusting her with a message meant directly for her husband, one associated with the war. Beth could not not tell William. But what would he do, when she told him that her Reverend was preaching of the Cause, right under William's nose? He'd send his men in to wait, at Cosgrove Bridge, this Sunday at two o'clock and Oliver would be taken captive. She finally exhaled and she nodded slowly, agreeing that of course she would tell William.