Chapter 102 - The Tavington's in Tatters:
"Well, I have to say that I think you're doing a wonderful job," Beth was saying to Mrs. Andrews. "I'm sorry that the responsibility has fallen to you, I do wish my husband hadn't insisted on removing it from me."
"His concerns are quite valid," Mrs. Andrews replied. "The less strain you are under, the higher the likelihood of his seed taking."
Beth nodded and hung her head. Could she trust this women, could she confide in her? Mrs. Andrews was older and wiser, she would be able to advise Beth, who no longer had an older woman to turn to in times of crisis.
"I… Part of the reason I came down here," she said, deciding to confide in her. "Is because I… Well, that is, my husband… We get along grandly most of the time," she rushed to explain, to defend William. "He is so very good to me, and I know he loves me, so very much. We hardly ever quarrel, but I… well, we've been married over three months now yet always, around the twentieth of the month, I… I get my courses." She drew a ragged breath, almost in tears. "Today is the thirteenth and… I only have a week and I just… I'm so worried it'll come to me again and William, he'll be…"
"He'll be what, Beth?" Cilla asked, voice sharp. Beth's eyes filled with tears and she drew a shuddering breath.
"Angry," Beth breathed.
"Angry!" Cilla gasped.
"Oh, don't think poorly of him, he just wants a child so very much. He gets frustrated when I get my menses and then we quarrel. We always make up," Beth tried to smile. "Making up is the fun part. The argument never lasts long but it's always so horrid, I'm so worried that my bleeding will come upon me again. Mrs. Andrews, isn't there something you can do for me?"
"Not truly," Mrs. Andrews replied. "I can give advice, but there's no simple answer that will result in you getting with child."
"The problem could be him," Cilla said. "It could be his fault you're not yet pregnant."
Beth lowered her eyes and gnawed her lip - that William had had sired bastards was not something she had wanted to reveal to her cousin, or to anyone else, for that matter. "Did Major Bordon get angry with you?" She asked and Cilla drew back, startled.
Cilla's bleeding had started during the night; it was light enough that she did not need to be house bound yet, or she would not have accompanied Beth on this visit to Mrs. Andrews. Of course Bordon wasn't angry with her for getting her courses - he'd be furious if she hadn't, for it would mean she was carrying another man's bastard! She sometimes forgot that Beth did not know the truth about her marriage, Beth was under the assumption that Cilla was bedding Richard, as Beth was bedding Colonel Tavington.
"No, he didn't," she replied a little faintly. "But it's not the same thing. Who says the problem doesn't lie with Tavington? Your mother had eight children, Beth."
"And our aunt - her sister, had none," Beth reminded Cilla, speaking of Charlotte. "And her brother, your father, only had one."
"It doesn't matter. His seed might be weak," Cilla said, furious. "He might not be able to sire children. He's got no right to be angry with you for it."
"You're right, it doesn't matter," Beth said, still unwilling to tell Cilla how she knew the problem did not lie with William. She turned back to Mrs. Andrews, who appeared quite uncomfortable. Had Beth been too frank? And had Cilla added to Mrs. Andrews' discomfort with her anger? "Any advice you can give, Mrs. Andrews. Mila, my maid, has been helping me but perhaps you know things she doesn't. All I know, is that Mila's advice hasn't worked."
"Tell me what Miss Mila has advised," Mrs. Andrews said, starting from there, and Beth began to repeat to the woman all of Mila's suggestions.
Linda was walking with Miss Amity Cordell when she stopped dead, her eyes fixed and narrowed. "What's that bitch doing here?" She curled her lip as she watched Beth, with her cousin, chat with Mrs. Andrews outside the older woman's tent.
"Oh, God," Amity breathed, "God, I thought she wasn't supposed to come down to the camp anymore? What if she sees you?"
"She thinks I'm Mrs. Merry, remember? The other one might recognise me though," Linda said, glancing at Cilla Putman Bordon. "Another little bitch. Two little uppities, trying to steal our men. Well. It didn't work very well, did it?" Linda laughed softly. "Bordon's back in Harmony's bed where he belongs and William…" Linda left it hanging, glancing at Amity with unconcealed pleasure. The younger girl flushed, her face reddening. "I'm going to my tent, I'll talk to you later," Linda said, turning on her heel and striding away.
Linda hovered just inside the entrance of her tent, peering out between the flaps, her eyes fixed on Mrs. Andrews tent. Mrs. Bitch Tavington was in there, with Mrs. Bitch Bordon. Miss Cordell had gone in there too. Linda had been watching for the last twenty minutes, waiting for the uppities to come back out. She wasn't sure why she tortured herself but she always felt such a need to watch Mrs. Tavington whenever they came into vicinity of one another. When Beth had been matron and she came down to visit the camp followers, Linda would follow the woman's every movement with her eyes, dwelling on how pretty she was, how pretty her dresses, how graceful her movements. All the things that had captivated William, the things that made him be faithful to her.
Linda's eyes were peeled on the tent, willing the women to emerge so she could get another look at her rival, before the bitches returned to the Great House where they belonged. Why were they even here? Hadn't William put a stop to his bitch of a wife coming down to the camp? On the pretence that Beth was under too much strain, with all her duties. He'd confessed to Linda that he'd had another reason for this decision - it was so Beth did not discover Linda in camp, because if she did, there was not a force on earth that would stop her leaving him.
Linda had so little of William now - oh, he had started visiting her frequently since his illness, but never too couple with her. They played cards and drank whiskey in her little tent for a few hours a few days a week. She supposed she should be grateful to be getting this much of him, he was taking a great risk for her. His whore of a wife had told him that if she ever heard so much as a rumour of him bedding Linda, then there was not a force on earth that would make her stay with him. William did not want to risk that.
Yet he still came to her. Linda smiled at the tent as if the tent were Beth. Despite the risk that Beth would find out and leave him, he still came to Linda. Oh, he did not bed her, he hadn't even let her kiss him again, not since that first time. But he still flirted with the risk. For her. That had to mean something, didn't it? It was only a matter of time; William would be hers again.
The tent flap stirred and Linda's breath caught, she wished those passing by would get the hell out of the way so she could see better. Beth emerged and Linda suppressed the urge to weep - the girl was just so beautiful. Mrs. Bordon, Mrs. Andrews and Miss Cordell followed and the four stood in the circle, chatting. Linda did not take her eyes off Beth, she seethed, wishing she could pull the little bitches hair out. Miss Cordell was smiling - Linda despised that, too, how dare her friend enjoy Mrs. Tavington's company too? Linda glared at Miss Cordell, though the younger girl knew it not.
"…Colonel." Someone nearby said. People were passing by or working outside their tents, Linda hadn't tried listening in on any one conversation, until she heard that one word. Colonel and William would intrude on her awareness, no matter how occupied she was. She glanced in the other direction and sure enough, there was William, stepping off an intersecting avenue and walking directly toward her tent; coming to visit her again. Linda's heart leapt as she opened the flaps wide, she returned his broad smile, intensely aware that only a few yards to her left stood Mrs. Tavington. Did he know? He mustn't, he would not be visiting Linda, if he knew his wife was in camp.
'She told me that there is not a force on earth, that would make her stay with me, if she thought for one moment that you and I were having an affair.'
If Beth thought William was sharing Linda's bed, she would leave. Her heart pounding faster than a galloping horse, she stepped out to meet him.
"Hello my darling," she said, eyes on him and only him. He stopped before her, swept her a bow and she laughed. "It's a little early, but I'm up for a tickle and a play."
William laughed down at her. To her joy, he reached out to brush a lock of hair back up into her mob cap and she leaned into the touch, soaking into the feel of him. "How about cards and whiskey, instead?"
She pouted at him. She darted her eyes toward the group of women - without looking directly at them she could still see that all four of them were facing her and Tavington, four pairs of eyes on her.
Time to see you on your way, you little bitch. Linda lifted herself up to the tips of her toes, she wrapped her arms around William's shoulders and brushed her lips across his cheek. "We'll spend our time however you wish, my darling," she whispered, before settling back on her heels. He shook his head slowly, as if exasperated by her constant advances. She'd risked his wrath, being so forward in public, but he was still smiling and that was all that mattered. She took hold of his hand and, knowing Beth was watching, placed it on her stomach, she splayed his fingers over the swell, her hand on top of his. "Our baby says 'hallo papa'," she said playfully. Beth would not be able to hear the words, but the gesture was unmistakable. To Linda's delight, William played along by leaning down and addressing her stomach.
"Hallo, little one," he said to her stomach and Linda giggled.
Still holding his hand in hers, she turned back to the tent and lifted back the flap. With her back now turned to Colonel Tavington where he could not see the interaction, she deliberately glanced at the group of women. She met Mrs. Tavington's gaze - Gods, the look on the little bitches face was perfection - Linda flashed Beth a quick little smirk; she shrugged to show Beth that she didn't care that Beth had caught them, then made a show of tugging William forward into the tent.
"Thank you so much, Mrs. Andrews," Beth said. Gods, Mrs. Andrews knew so much about birthing and pregnancy, t was such a relief to have the woman's reassurance. A load off her mind. "I'll do exactly what you said, starting the moment I reach the house."
"We need to go, Beth," Cilla said, "or we won't get a chance to say goodbye."
"To Tarleton? Yes, I know, I know. Not that William approves me speaking to him," Beth gave a soft laugh. "But yes, we do need to be going." The women began to file out of Mrs. Andrews tent, Miss Cordell held the tent flap open for Beth, Cilla and Mrs. Andrews. They stood just outside, in a small circle, the cool breeze stirring their capes and skirts. "And when I do fall pregnant," Beth said, feeling quite confident of that outcome now that she had Mrs. Andrews to advise her. "You'll be my midwife, won't you?"
"Of course I will!" Mrs. Andrews said. "I wouldn't have it any other way. However, in future, I will attend you at the Great House, Mrs. Tavington. It'll be easier to examine you in a bed chamber than it is in a tent and besides, the paths are at time treacherous, and will be double so in the coming months. A woman's balance can be compromised during pregnancy and a fall could spell disaster for the baby."
"Oh, alright, of course," Beth rushed to agree, for she wouldn't want to harm her child or put her pregnancy at risk. "We can organise that, if you don't mind traipsing through the awful weather - and it's definitely going to be that soon. I can feel winter biting at us already."
"As can I," Mrs. Andrews agreed. "And of course I do not mine traipsing to the Great House - itls what I am here for."
They continued to make small talk for a bit, until Cilla began to make impatient noises. Beth knew she had developed a friendship and a fondness for Tarleton, but Cilla was being almost rude in her need to return to farewell him.
"Oh no," Cilla groaned, pointing. "Now it's going to be even longer before we leave. I might just head back by myself."
Beth glanced in the direction Cilla was pointing, her eyes landing on her husband. He was walking along an avenue - she saw him between the gaps in the tents. He emerged onto the same lane Beth was on and she expected he had learned she was in the camp and was coming to find her. She waited for him to look her way and was preparing to wave at him to get his attention. For now, he was looking straight ahead. From the corner of her eye, Beth saw Mrs. Merry emerged from her tent.
Cilla drew in a sharp breath but Beth made a shushing gesture with her hand - she'll have a quick word with her husband and they'll return to farewell Banastre. It wasn't as though Banastre would leave without saying goodbye.
William stopped to speak with Mrs. Merry - he was being polite, no doubt. Beth waited, he would join her soon enough. Even from that distance, Beth could see the woman's face light up with a welcoming smile that stretched from ear to ear. As their happenstance meeting stretched, Beth began to feel uneasy. She had known Tavington knew the woman - he had helped her to settle her on the Turnbull's when her husband died, though she'd returned to camp for some reason. Beth had known that her husband had shown the woman some charity but surely a quick 'hello' now would suffice? Why in the world was he smiling at her like that? He swept her a bow and Mrs. Merry laughed, the two started to chat.
William laughed at something Mrs. Merry said. And then he was tucking a lock of Mrs. Merry's hair into her mob cap and she moved her cheek against his finger, leaning into his touch. Beth grew still all over, she turned to Cilla, whose mouth was hanging open, she looked utterly outraged. Beth turned back to Mrs. Merry. Who wrapped her arms around William's shoulders and laid a kiss on his cheek and whispered something in his ear.
Cold sliced up Beth's spine, her heart began to pound. Cilla gave a soft gasp. Mrs. Merry ended the embrace, but then she was taking hold of William's hand and she placed it on the swell of her pregnant stomach.
They looked like expectant parents, taking joy over their as yet unborn child.
"Oh my God," Beth breathed. Mrs. Merry's hand on top of William's, on her stomach. He leaned down to her stomach and his lips moved, he appeared to be speaking to the child within. Mrs. Merry laughed down at him. She turned to the tent, lifted back the flap and tugged at his hand.
As he began to follow her in, Mrs. Merry glanced her way, she looked Beth straight in the eye, and she smirked. She gave Beth an insolent shrug, then she tugged William's hand, drawing him into the tent behind her.
Beth's stomach roiled, her heart beat furiously, awful palpitations that made her vision blur. Thoughts crashed through her skull. William and Mrs. Merry. It couldn't be - she never would have believed anyone, had they told her. But it was true. Right there in front her, she had seen it for herself. It explained Mrs. Merry's hostility toward her. She stared at the tent flap, silently willing for it to all be a dream - a nightmare. Willing for William to come back out, now, before anything could take place between them. Gods, William and Mrs. Merry.
"Beth," Cilla said and Beth turned to her cousin. "You do know who that woman is, don't you?"
"Mrs. Merry," Beth breathed. "Gods, William and Mrs. Merry."
"Mrs. Merry? Beth, dear heart, no. That woman is Linda Stokes," Cilla said, outraged.
"No," Beth whispered. She shook her head, denying it. "No, no, no. Please, no…" She turned to Mrs. Andrews and Miss Cordell, waiting for them to deny it. But Mrs. Andrews seemed ready to faint and Miss Cordell was clutching her skirts and staring at the ground. They were not denying it. Beth stared at them both, then she turned on her heels and began to run, her legs carrying her swiftly away from the tent, where her husband was about to rut his former mistress. They were still together. William and Linda, they'd never parted ways, he was with her, he was bedding her, he'd been bedding her all this time. Beth ran, tears burning her eyes, making it difficult to see as people leapt out of her way to keep from being trampled. She ran until her sides hurt almost as much as her heart. She was finally forced to slow, where she stood, heaving for air as great sobs burst from her chest.
Cilla reached her first, then Miss Cordell and Mrs. Andrews. Beth seized Cilla's arms, needing something to hold on to, she felt she would collapse right there in the dirt.
"Beth, oh Gods, Beth, I'm so sorry," Cilla said, pulling Beth into her arms. "I'm so sorry. Let's get you back to the house, you need to sit down."
"It's Linda," Beth panted and sobbed, still struggling for air. "Linda. Oh Gods, he never stopped. He's been with her all this time," she wailed and Cilla nodded sagely, calmly, though she looked on the verge of tears also.
"Come, Beth, let's get you walking again," Cilla said as she turned Beth back to the trail, her arm around Beth's waist, her free hand on Beth's arm, holding her, helping her to walk as Beth put one foot in front of the other.
"Mrs. Tavington, I'm so sorry," Miss Cordell was hot on their heels. "Please, I never meant -"
"To betray me?" Beth gasped back a sob as she whirled on the younger woman. Miss Cordell stopped dead and hung her head. "You knew that that… whore, that doxy! You knew who she was all along and you said nothing!" She pointed at Mrs. Andrews, who had also followed. Her face was red and she was panting with effort after the mad run. "And nor did you. This is why you were so insistent on coming to the Manor just now, instead of me coming here! You weren't afraid for my wellbeing at all!"
"That's not true, I do care, Mrs. Tavington!" Mrs. Andrews said between breaths but Beth had already turned and was again walking away. Cilla was at her side with the other two women trying to keep up, pleading for Beth to stop, to let them explain. Beth was desperate to put as much distance between herself and the tent as was possible and with her quick pace, she was succeeding.
"Linda Stokes," Beth spat as she walked. "All this time, he's been bedding her, Cilla! He's been lying, for months! How could he? Why would he? Why marry me at all? Gods." She stopped dead so quickly Miss Cordell almost trod on her heels. "Could it be? After all this time, was he truly only after my money?"
"I don't know," Cilla said, panting slightly from the mad dash away from Mrs. Andrews tent. "I'm so sorry, Beth. You're going to have to ask him."
"And what am I supposed to say? Oh my God, he is with that whore, right now, he is rutting her!" Beth pointed back the way she'd come. "How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me!" Tears stung her eyes. Frantic with the need to get away, she continued on.
"Mrs. Tavington -"
"You have lied to me, both of you!" Beth rounded on Mrs. Andrews, who'd dared to try to speak. "My husband is still having an affair with Linda Stokes and you all knew of it!"
"No, I don't think he is," Mrs. Andrews said. "I don't think it's like that -"
"Silence!" Beth roared, taking a full step forward, her fingers twitching as though she might slap Mrs. Andrews across the face. The older woman blanched and fell back a step, almost tripping over Miss Cordell who huddled behind her for protection. "I will not hear another word from you. I've tried to be your friend! I cared for you - all of you!" She shot at Miss Cordell, letting the girl know she was as much to blame. "That's why she didn't let you stop to speak to me that day outside the Turnbull's, isn't it! You sided with her, you let her drag you along! You never revealed her! I thought you were my friend, but you never were," she accused Miss Cordell. "You have both played me for a fool!"
Mrs. Andrews - shockingly - began to weep as hard as Miss Cordell. Mrs. Andrews, one of the strongest women in camp, broke down and sobbed. Beth's mind had moved on, however, and she barely noticed the woman's distress. With utter horror, she remembered that day when Mrs. Merry - no Miss Linda Stokes - ushered Miss Cordell away down the lane, outside the Turnbull house.
After just having visited with Harmony Farshaw.
The memory hit Beth like a hammer blow between the eyes. She grunted and Cilla was suddenly at her side again, but Beth hardly noticed. Agony pierced through her, her heart constricted. The pain was terrible, almost as awful as discovering William's betrayal.
"Even Harmony," Beth breathed, shocked by the extent of their treachery, the depth of the conspiracy. She turned to Cilla. "Harmony knew. All along, she knew. It was Mrs. Merry who got her away from Fresh Water in the first place. And Mrs. Merry visited her at the Turnbull's, I saw her there. I saw her leave. Harmony even gave me an explanation about her, she called her Mrs. Merry too, and said -" she choked off, unable to give voice to repeat what Harmony had said - the explanation Harmony had given Mrs. Turnbull, about Mrs. Merry's husband recently dying and Tavington taking care of her because her husband was one of his soldiers. All lies. The explanation hadn't been for Mrs. Turnbull, it had been for Beth. To divert her from suspecting the truth. Tears stung her already burning eyes. Even Harmony was involved… That hurt, oh God, that hurt. She searched Cilla's face as though she might find the answer there, "is it not enough that William has betrayed me? That he has been unfaithful? How could Harmony do that to me? I thought she was my friend," her voice broke then, the tide surged. "I-I thought they all were."
"Mrs. Farshaw is a damned bitch and a whore," Cilla said, furious with the woman for betraying Beth. "As for Mrs. Andrews and Miss Cordell," Cilla continued, eyeing the women sternly, "well, the both of you should be deeply ashamed, helping the Colonel keep his mistress here in camp! Hiding her and cosseting her, when Mrs. Tavington has done so much for you! She has shown you so much kindness!"
"It wasn't like that, Mrs. Bordon," Mrs. Andrews whispered, voice weak. "Please, if you'd just listen -"
"And she's pregnant," Beth wailed, silencing Mrs. Andrews. "Oh Lord, did you see her put his hand on her stomach? And he was playful, talking to the baby!" The full implications hit her and she felt her knees begin to give way. She gripped Cilla's sleeve and her cousin threw her arms around Beth's waist to steady her. "Oh, it's his! The baby - it's William's!" Beth turned to Mrs. Andrews. "It's William's, isn't it?" She asked of the woman, who nodded, for she did not have it in her to lie. Not now. Beth buried her face in her hands, choking sobs escaping her. Cilla pulled her closer, she held her for the longest time, until Beth felt able to stand on her own. She gathered herself, cheeks wet but head held high. Her lip quivered, but she tried to force the tears to abate. Tried to tamp it down, to rid herself of the horrible, heart crushing agony. Unfaithful husband, William had been unfaithful all along! How could her heart possibly still be beating? How could she possibly live through such pain?
Beth was unable to keep still, she was striding again, with the others still in pursuit. She had the awareness to remember how little notice the two had been given by those passing by - Miss Stokes had kissed William, right there in front of her tent, and no one had battered an eyelid. Did he visit her so frequently then? Dear Christ. Just how deep was this conspiracy? The entire camp knew about it, but not a single person there had thought to tell her. Oh no, not a single one of them warned her. They all gave their allegiance to William, each and every one of them. She was a fool, such a goddamned fool! He'd been unfaithful in Charlestown, what in the world had made her believe he would be faithful to her now?
"What a fool I've been," she whispered, slowing down to catch her breath. She clutched Cilla's arm for support.
"It's not like that," Mrs. Andrews said, trying again. It was difficult for her to speak through her tears but she felt desperate, she had to try. "He sent her away. She came back of her own volition and we hid her. I'm sorry for doing that, I truly am -"
"She stayed with Mrs. Turnbull," Beth said, interrupting. Linda hadn't been in camp all along for she'd spent some time at Mrs. Turnbull's. "Why did she come back? Had enough time passed that William thought it safe to begin the affair again?"
"No, it's not like that either, I swear! He did not know - we were hiding her from him, too, because we all feared he'd send her away again and the poor lass is pregnant and we could not send her off to her fate."
"Stop lying to me! He is in her tent at this very moment!" Beth shouted.
"I'm not! I'm not lying. I vow on my honour that if I thought for one moment that they were dallying, I would have told you immediately," Mrs. Andrews said, wringing her hands.
"You're trying to tell me you didn't know he was visiting her tent?" Beth asked incredulously, clearly disbelieving.
"I knew he'd started visiting her, but I do not believe they are dallying -"
"Then that makes you either a liar, or a damned fool," Beth hurled at the older woman. "Well? Which is it? A liar, or a fool?"
"I guess I am a fool," Mrs. Andrews said quietly.
"Well, that makes two of us," Beth said. She turned to continue on, then stopped and whirled back, this time to confront Miss Cordell. "And you," she snapped. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I'm so sorry!" Miss Cordell cried. "I wanted to tell you, I vow I did! It's so awful, they should not… he's married now, he should not be bedding her!"
"At least you're willing to admit that he is!" Beth shouted. "Though it's too little, too late!"
"I'm sorry," Miss Cordell stuttered. "I'll tell you everything. Miss Stokes r-returned sometime late July. Or early August. A-and we hid her, for the b-baby. M-Major B-Bordon discovered she was here -"
"When?" Beth barked.
"Mid September," Amity replied. "and… And then Major B-Bordon t-told Tavington. And Tavington came down to camp and he l-let her stay and he asked us not t-to t-tell you. He said you wouldn't understand and you'd want her sent away and he was worried for the baby."
"His baby," Beth breathed, swallowing hard.
"His baby," Miss Cordell confirmed.
"When did my husband learn she returned?" Beth asked, finally opening her eyes.
"Mid September, when Bordon did. Bordon told him straight away," Miss Cordell said miserably.
"Mid September," she shifted her gaze to Cilla's, whose eyes were bright with outrage. "Around the same time that he removed the responsibility of the camp followers from me. He said my duties were to blame for me not giving him a child. But that was never his true motive! That was never the case! He was using it as an excuse - he made me feel like a failure when all along, he was really just trying to stop me from coming here, so I wouldn't discover her."
"That bastard," Cilla breathed. "That conniving, worthless bastard."
Beth turned back to Miss Cordell. Drawing a ragged breath, she forced herself to ask, "did he start bedding her straight away?"
"No. Not straight away. Before he got sick, and then again when he was better."
"I don't think that's true," Mrs. Andrews said.
"I'm not lying! Miss Stokes told me, Mrs. Andrews," Miss Cordell said and Mrs. Andrews eyes bulged.
"What did that whore tell you?" Beth ground out, fury rising.
"I saw that he was coming to visit her more and more often and I didn't like it, he's married to you and I didn't…" Miss Cordell closed her eyes and she caught her bottom lip with her teeth. "I'm sorry, I know I should have told you but I couldn't, I didn't know what to do!"
"What did that whore tell you!" Beth snapped, fury in every word. Amity Cordell nodded.
"I think it was about three weeks ago, Miss Stokes said… she told me that he has finally come back to her, that she is bedding him again, like she'd always known they would. Then he got sick and she couldn't see him, but they started again, as soon as he was well enough to come back to camp."
Beth swayed, her legs felt so dreadfully weak. "I'm alright," she lied to Cilla. She stepped back when Cilla tried to envelop her again. "Everybody knew," she whispered. "Except me. I'm the only one who didn't know." She looked Mrs. Andrews and Miss Cordell in the eye, first one, then the other. "You've both betrayed me. You're both false friends and frankly, the sight of you sickens me. Please, return to your tents and do not try to speak to me again." Beth commanded and both women, looking miserable, turned away. Cilla and Beth were almost to the end of the lane when Beth saw Patrick Brownlow leaning back against a tree, standing guard over his horse, and Thunder. The carriage was a little further along the lane in the other direction, but Beth made directly for Brownlow. He saw her, and his welcoming smile became quizzical, then concerned when he saw Beth's tear streaked face.
"Did you know?" She said to him, fair quivering with rage. Holding his gaze, she spat, "about him and Linda. Did you know?" His face blanched, much as Mrs. Andrews' had. The same as Miss Cordell. Beth curled her lip, nodding once. Another conspirator. She reached up and seized Thunder reins and to the Cornets astonishment, she mounted in one swift leap up. Thunder knew her well, the battle trained horse did nothing to dislodge the weight of the Colonel's wife, who frequently fed him apples and pears when she visited her own mount, Shadow Dancer.
"Beth!" Cilla cried out as, like the wind, Beth and Thunder leaped forward, people scattering in their path.
Thunder reared, Beth pulled the reins so hard. He skidded to a halt and she leapt from the mount and was running up the porch steps, shouting for Mila before she even reached the front door. She strode quickly up the stairs, still shouting. Mila met her in the corridor above.
"Go to my chamber and begin packing. Everything you can fit into saddle bags quickly, things I'll need for travelling," Beth commanded of her. Mila, who usually teased Beth when they were alone, whirled and raced down the hall to do her mistresses bidding.
Drawn by the commotion, curious Officers were emerging from Banastre's bed chamber, where Banastre had been packing his belongings. Dalton, Banastre, Whitty.
Bordon came out of his bed chamber.
"What is it Beth?" Banastre asked, approaching her. She spared him a glance, then locked eyes with Bordon.
"Did you know?" She snapped out the same question she had to Brownlow. Richard's jaw dropped, and that was all the confirmation she needed. As if there could have been a doubt. She barked a bitter laugh. "What am I saying? Of course you bloody knew!"
"Knew what?" Banastre asked.
"William never stopped his affair with Linda Stokes; she is in camp, they are in her tent at this very moment," Beth announced, voice crisp. Tears threatened to fall again as heartache swelled. She embraced the fury that was still surging, letting it give her the fire she needed. She could not dissolve into a heartbroken mess on the floor. She'd never be able to get herself up to leave the house, if she succumbed to that. She met and held Banastre's eyes, testing him, and she saw very real astonishment cross his features. She felt such vast, bone deep relief, that she almost fainted. He hadn't known.
She still had one friend in camp. Two, including Cilla.
"The devil take him," Banastre breathed, closing the distance between them. "That goddamned son of a bitch."
"Indeed," Beth said still holding his gaze. Like a person drowning she held on to the only branch she had, holding Banastre's eyes, as she struggled to hide just how close she was from sinking to the bottom.
"Dalton, Whitty, have the house cleared of soldiers and servants," Bordon commanded in an attempt to keep what was coming as private as possible. Nothing particularly damning had been said so far but Bordon strongly suspected that that would change shortly.
"That will not be necessary, I'm leaving," Beth said, already turning for her room. Despite her declaration, the two Officers leapt to obey, they began searching the chambers for any unnecessary eyes and ears. Bordon moved toward her, hand extended in supplication, readying to play peace keeper.
"Now see here, it's not what you -"
"Major Bordon," Beth cut him off in a ringing voice. "Please inform Mrs. Farshaw that I will have nothing further to do with her. Our friendship is at an end. I will suffer no more false friends."
Richard's face twisted with grief - for his beautiful Harmony was going to be heart broken. He implored, "please, I beg of you, try to understand. She was placed in a terrible situation - I asked her to hold her tongue and it has not been easy on her -"
"At least you're not trying to deny it anymore. I've no doubt you asked it of her," Beth laughed bitterly, half crazed. Bordon was shaking his head in denial and trying to speak but she would not let him get a word in edgewise. "You and William, always watching one another's backs. You know, I always admired that about the two of you, such a good strong friendship you have! Yes, I admired it - until now," grief twisted her voice, "I never thought you would band together against me!"
"He is my dearest friend," Bordon said, "he asked me to keep Linda's presence a secret and yes, I did. But there was no harm in it, he was only -"
"Fucking her," Banastre said, passing Bordon to stand above him on the top step at Beth's side. "Yes, I see no harm in that at all."
"Banastre, he wasn't fucking her!"
"Tell that to Miss Cordell, who admitted to knowing all about it," Beth hissed. That whore has been bragging about it - she's been boasting all over camp."
"Miss Cordell said that?" Bordon looked taken aback, gaping down at her. "That they are bedding?"
"Miss Cordell was very clear, Miss Stokes has been boasting of it to her. Besides, even if she hadn't told me, I am not a fool! I saw them myself, Bordon. I saw that bitch kiss husband, I saw her hold his hand, I saw her invite him into his tent! I saw him accept it. Do please tell me again how I have it all wrong?"
"I…" Bordon was finally at a loss for words.
"You knew it," Beth said, voice low and furious, "all along -"
"I knew she was back," he said, now speaking as fast as he could in order to get his words in. "I knew she was pregnant. I knew she needed help and we all knew you would have apoplexy if we tried to give it. We kept that from you, but that only."
"Only," Beth laughed, glancing at Banastre and scoffing. "What's a few lies between friends, hmm?" He shook his head, lips tight, looking as furious as she felt. She shifted back to Bordon. "Harmony was always friends with Linda. She chose her side," Beth said, a judge pronouncing a verdict. "And you did also. You and I are finished. Harmony and I -"
"Please don't say it, she needs you. Please, Beth," Bordon begged. He could deal with the brunt of Beth's fury. Even if she never spoke to him again, as horrid as it would be, he could bear it. As long as Harmony was spared. "Please, Beth - you and Harmony -"
"- are finished," Beth continued harshly. She leaned forward, her head craned to glare up at him. This once, she did manage to seem the taller. Softly, voice thick with sarcasm, she said, "but never fear, she has Linda." She began walking backwards toward her chamber, her arms stretched wide. "You have Linda. Harmony has Linda," her voice grew louder and she laughed - maniacally - while pointing at Dalton and Bordon, and while thinking of Brownlow, who had also kept the secret. "You all have Linda! And right now, this very moment, William is having Linda!"
"Come Beth," Banastre whispered, fearing she was unhinged. He took hold of her arm to lead her. "Come along now."
They reached her chamber when they heard galloping hooves grow louder, then thunderous, suddenly stopping outside the house. Beth did not wait, she hiked up her skirts and bolted into her chamber, Banastre hot on her heels. She waited only long enough for Banastre to enter, then she shut and locked it behind them. She turned to Mila, who had obeyed Beth's command and was shoving clothes frantically into saddlebags.
"Quickly now, what have you packed for me?" Beth asked Mila.
"BETH!" She heard William bellow from downstairs.
"Oh, ah…" Mila's hands began to shake. "I don't know what you need! Where are you going?" Mila wrung her hands, frantic now.
"Money, I need money," Beth said, moving to her chest. She threw aside the remainder of her clothes and pulled out a small but heavy pouch, filled with coins. "I'll take what I can and I'll buy what I need," she said, pushing the pouch into her pocket.
Advancing boot falls grew closer outside in the hall.
"Beth!" William had not stopped bellowing her name all the way up the stairs and now he was at the door, rattling the bolt. It was locked. Bordon had told him Beth was in there with Banastre and that drove him to his own sort of madness. Christ, she knew about Linda. And she was in the bed chamber with Banastre. "Open this door!" He roared, banging on the door.
"Don't worry, I'll do it," Beth said to Mila, having to pitch her voice higher to be heard over William's yelling. Her hands trembled as she buckled the saddlebags, but she was calm, focused, a hunter siting her rifle. Banastre took up position by the door, keeping an eye on both Beth and the door at once.
"Where will you go?" Mila asked, looking on the verge of tears.
"With me," Banastre folded his arms across his chest, he met Beth's eyes. She paused, considering her options. Aunt Charlotte and the children were in Gullah, Nathan had said. Banastre could help her leave the Plantation, he might be able to help get her to her family. They stared for several heartbeats. Then she nodded once, agreeing. She would leave with him. Satisfaction such as he'd never known welled up inside of him.
Having heard Banastre's suggestion through the door, outside the chamber William screamed, "she's not going anywhere with you!" Standing in the hallway, he pounded and pounded, the wood almost splintering under the force.
"She sent Mila to pack her belongings," Bordon said as he came to stand beside him. Cilla had followed too, she was breathing hard from the effort. "As much as she could fit into saddlebags, she said," Bordon continued.
"Did she now?" Tavington breathed, meeting Bordon's eyes with an odd calm. Richard was not fooled - it was the sort of calm that preceded the storm. Therefore, he was not surprised in the slightest when William lifted his knee high and slammed his boot into the door, shattering the lock. The door flung open and slammed against the wall, he placed his hand out to stop it from slamming toward him again.
Banastre lowered his arms to his side and as he turned to face Tavington, he stepped his boots apart, a defensive stance, ready for fighting.
"All this time!" Beth shrieked at William, pushing past Banastre to stand before her husband, in between both men. William gazed down at her with a grave expression. "You've kept her here! Screwing her every time you went to camp!"
He gazed down at her, drawing long slow breaths, struggling for calm. Jesus Christ. How was this happening?
"It's not what you -" He began, only for Beth to cut him off.
"I've heard that too many times to count today, thank you very much!" She yelled, spittle flying from her lips.
"Beth, I visit her on occasion, but nothing happens!"
"For several hours, several times a week!" She shot back. "What could you be doing for several hours, several times a week?"
"Playing cards and drinking whiskey," he replied, and although it was the absolute truth, even he knew how preposterous it sounded.
Beth stared at him a moment, then she shared a look with Banastre. As one, they both threw back their heads and laughed.
"Gods, William, even you can do better than that," Banastre said at the same time that Beth chortled, "oh, of course you do!" She returned to her packing.
"Banastre, leave," he snapped. "I will discuss this with my wife alone."
"The hell I will," Banastre's arms were folded over his chest again.
"Do I look like a Goddamned fool to you?" Beth shouted and William was forced to try to ignore Banastre's presence.
"Beth, if I were you, I wouldn't believe it either! But on my honour, I vow it's the truth!" Tavington tried to say
"You drink and play cards with Bordon, William! With Brownlow, Dalton! You don't drink and play cards with your whore! Unless you've got the business of fucking out of the way first!" She shouted. She stalked up to him. "Is that what you do, William? Is that why you can vow it to be true, on your honour? Because it's absolutely true, you do play cards and you do drink whiskey with your little whore. But not until after you've fucked her!"
"No, not after I've fucked her."
"Before then," she hissed and Banastre laughed softly.
"No, Beth. I don't fuck her at all," William said, ignoring Banastre.
"Liar," she spat, turning away again. "I saw her hugging you, kissing you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. What did she whisper to you, William?
Hello, my darling. Gods, he couldn't repeat that, it would only reaffirm what Beth believed.
"What did she say, William?" Beth spat and when he still said nothing, she scoffed. "I guess it was something innocent, yes? Something like, 'let's go into my tent and play cards and drink whiskey'." Beth laughed. " 'Right after we fuck. Or maybe before.' Whatever your honour dictates to you under such circumstances!" She spat. "I saw you, your hand on her stomach, taking joy in the bastard she is carrying for you!"
"Gods, Beth," he ran his hand over his hair, even he knew how the whole thing sounded. And the raw pain in her voice, that he would welcome his child from Linda, cut him deeply. "I'm sorry, I… The child is mine, it is a part of me."
"Well, it's none of me. But I don't care, for I shall be burdened no further with any of this. I am leaving," She continued to pack. "I don't ever want to lay my eyes on you again."
"I will not allow you to leave," he said but Beth ignored him and continued her work, spitting vile and venom as she packed.
"As soon as you found out she returned, you removed the camp followers from my care," her hair was coming loose from her dust cap, it framed her face. She seized a pair of stockings from the drawer and threw them into the saddlebag. "Not to reduce my workload in the hopes that I'd give you a child! But because you didn't want me to discover that bitch was in camp and carrying your child! You shame me into feeling like a failure when all along, you were just trying to cover your tracks! Deny that, William!" She shouted, a shift dangling from her fingers. "Vow on your honour that it isn't so!"
William closed his eyes and drew a ragged breath.
"Yes. Just as I thought," she said, throwing the shift into the bag. "Gods, you disgust me. Using my lack of pregnancy against me to hide your strumpet!"
He opened his eyes and stared at her gravely - he could not deny it, he'd reduced the strain on her in the hopes that she would fall pregnant, but no, he could not deny that reducing her chance of learning Mrs. Merry was truly Linda Stokes had certainly held an attraction.
"I knew it," she said, curling her lip. "I can't even understand why you'd bother. Why not just be with her? Why did you marry me, William? For my money, after all? God knows, you have none!"
"Beth!" He gasped, offended.
"You needed to support your doxy somehow, though, I suppose," she pointed an accusing finger at him. "My mother's money is not for her!"
"I -" he cut short, for this was another thing he could not deny. Beth already knew - and had reluctantly accepted - that he intended to give Linda one thousand pounds. And as he did not have that sort of money, it would have had to come from Beth. Beth had only been willing, if it meant getting rid of Linda for once and for all. But now Linda was returned, carrying William's child. He would give her a stipend now, a maintenance to look after his child. And yes, that would come from Beth's inheritance, also.
"It's for me, William," Beth said, rounding on him. "For my children. My future. I can assure you, Sir, that when she sat down and discussed the amount with my father, she did not fucking factor in Linda fucking Stokes and her fucking goddamned bastard!" She held his eyes and then turned away. "Banastre, will you pack those for me?" She pointed across the bed to the side table where Banastre was standing. On top were perfumes and other assortments, a brush and mirror. Banastre began gathering them all up. William had almost forgotten he was there - Bordon was standing in the doorway too, keeping Cilla out and keeping watch to make sure Banastre did not intervene. Mila huddled in a far corner, too terrified to move.
"You're just creating work for Mila," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "She's just going to have to unpack it all again."
"The hell she will," Beth spat.
"I know that you are angry," he began, and ignored her snort of derision. "I would be too. I know how all of this looks, how it all sounds. But Beth, we've been married over three months now, you must know how much I love you. Just give me a minute, just a single minute - just listen to me, let me explain." She shook her head, refusing to look at him as she stuffed a petticoat into the bag. He would not be able to reach her, to get through to her, if she would not look at him. He took a hold of her wrists and tried to turn her to face him but she jerked out of his grasp, glared, and returned to her saddlebags. "I did not send her away when I discovered she had returned. I did not tell you about her or the child. You have every right to be angry for those but Beth, please, I have not lain with her. I've been trying to convince her to marry one of the men in my camp -"
"Oho! Married to one of your men, so she'll be right where you want her, whenever you want to screw her! Just like Richard was doing with Harmony! Now I know where he got the idea from!"
"No matter what you say, she's just going to turn it," Richard said. "She's too angry to see reason now, William."
"See reason? See reason!" Beth shouted at Richard. "Do you think I'm being fucking unreasonable?" She screamed loud enough for William's ears to hurt.
"No. I just think that trying to explain anything to an angry person is much the same as trying to explain to a drunk person. It's a useless undertaking and William should abandon it."
"In that, I could not agree more!" Beth said, turning to William. "Don't bloody bother, William. It's useless for you to try any more lies on me, for my eyes are open to you now!"
Out of patience, William seized her arms and shook her so hard, her head lolled like a ragdoll and her teeth rattled inside her skull, "I AM NOT HAVING AN AFFAIR!" He screamed down into her dazed face.
Banastre pelted forward, pulled back his fist and slammed it into William's jaw. William's head snapped to one side. As if she weighed nothing, William shoved Beth onto the bed, then smashed his fist into Banastre's face. The smaller man stumbled backward to slam bodily into the small chest of drawers, sending all of William's personal effects crashing to the ground. Cilla cried out in chagrin, Bordon shouldered her out when she attempted to get past him again. Banastre, wearing a filthy look of fury on his face, was struggling to rise.
"You hurt her, you damned bastard!" Banastre screamed from the floor. "I'll kill you!"
"If you get up, I swear, I'll beat you so that your own mother won't recognise you," William threatened, meaning every word. "You are leaving, and she is bloody staying. Do I make myself clear?"
"Gods, you bastard, you force her to marry you and then this is how you treat her? If you'd had any integrity at all, you'd have stood aside for me, that I could have married her - she would have been treated far better then!" Banastre finally gained his feet. He fingered his jaw, his gloves came back bloody from a cut on his mouth. "She is coming with me, and then everything will be set to rights!"
William stood over him, ready to beat him silly. "You deluded bastard. She is my wife, Banastre! In a house of God, we exchanged our vows! That's far stronger than some silly attachment you imagine having! I am the one she married!"
"In a house of God, we exchanged our vows," Beth agreed, climbing off the bed. "But that does not mean either of us told the truth that day."
"What are you talking about?" William asked.
"You didn't tell me about your bastards or that you'd bought Linda all the way up from Charlestown so you could continue your affair after you and I were married. And I," Beth rounded the bed, she wanted so very much to hurt William right now. "Never told you the truth about Banastre and I."
"Beth," Banastre whispered, shocked to his core that she would reveal herself what they had both agreed should remain secret.
"What do you mean?" William said warily even as Beth said, "I gave myself to him."
William recoiled as if slapped.
"I gave Banastre my virginity, William."
"No," he shook his head in denial.
"On our wedding day, Bordon said that we were to reveal it if there was anything we were keeping hidden that would stop us from being united in holy matrimony. Well, you kept your secrets, William. And I kept mine."
"You and Banastre… " William breathed.
"I was scared to tell you, because I was scared to lose you. But now… I find I simply do not care."
"When?" He asked her, trying to make sense of it. She did not answer and so he screamed, "WHEN?!"
"When Hanger found my brothers and I in the woods. When Banastre took me to Mrs. Rutledge's. After the dinner. We were both drinking. He escorted me to my room and when he made as if to leave for his, I invited him to spend the night with me, instead," she said, watching his face carefully, searching for a reaction.
"We are in love with each other, William," Banastre said. "You made her marry you, you stole her before I could -"
Everything happened so quickly. William's fist caught Banastre's jaw and this time, when Banastre slumped to the ground, he did not get back up. Cilla screamed and dropped to her knees beside Banastre's side on the floor. William seized Beth by the wrists, his grip crushing as he threw her face forward onto the bed. She screamed and writhed to no avail, as he lifted her skirts up, baring her rump. He used his legs to keep hers pinned in place even as he reached for one of his leather belts. He chose the thickest, knowing it would inflict the most pain. He fold in half, the two ends in his fist. He lifted his arm high and sent it sailing toward Beth's buttocks.
"This, for not telling me!" He shouted, "For fucking Banastre! For telling Burwell of my plot! So many times you've betrayed me! I committed treason for you!" Each accusation was met with the crack of the belt across her backside; Beth howled and screamed and kicked her legs but could otherwise do nothing as William beat her.
Bordon beckoned to Mila, who ran past her mistress and master. Cilla was on her feet again, rushing around the bed to stop William. Bordon seized her and who forced both Mila and his screaming wife from the chamber, keeping the door shut with his foot. He left Banastre where he was, on the floor unconscious.
"I loved you! How could you do that to me?" His arm did not falter, the belt sailed for Beth's skin again and again, red weals appearing and then blurring into one another was no flesh was left untouched. "You took him into your mouth!" He screamed, recalling Beth's expert touch the 'first' time she'd done it to him. He'd thought it was her first time with anyone, but now he knew the truth. "You knew exactly how to do it. You licked and sucked me so well… And you call Linda a whore! You let him lay his hands on you! You gave yourself to him! By Christ, you gave him your virginity! And you never bloody told me!" The belt slapped her flesh with every accusation. "You are no proper wife!"
Beth's teeth sunk into his arm and he yowled with pain, he released her hands and pulled, trying to release his arm from her bite. She let go, then reared up, her full arm slap twisting his face to the side. Pain exploded in his cheek and the next thing he knew, he was fighting with her for the belt which she damned near pulled out of his grasp. Tears burned her eyes, scorched her cheeks, her fingers squeezed the belt in on itself in an attempt to seize it from him.
"As if you are any better!" She shouted at him, her fingers tightly closed over the belt as she grappled him for it. "Beat me, will you? Who then will beat you?" When she found she could not wrest it from him, she slapped him hard across the face a second time. "You unfaithful bastard!"
"You've forgotten how hard I can hit you!" He shouted, seizing her by the shoulders and shoving her hard up against the wall. "I slapped you once and you ended up on the ground! Do you want me to do that again?" He prevented her attempts to kick him even as he fended off her hands, which came up yet again in an attempt to slap him. "You damned slut," he snapped, ignoring the blazing sting on his right cheek. "I married you in good faith and you were naught more than a whore!"
"At least I'm not an adulterer! If I was strong like a man, I'd be beating you now!" She shrieked up at him.
"For a crime such as heinous as what you did to me, I do not doubt it," he shot back. "Here I am, trying to explain myself, to a damned bloody whore!"
He threw her back across the bed, this time he held her down with his hand on her back, keeping his aching arm far back from her teeth, he flipped her skirts back up and resumed the belting. How many had it been before? Ten? Fifteen?
One hundred was not enough.
"Stop it, you bastard!" She raged. "You've done so much to hurt me! And now I get this, for not being a virgin?" Then it cracked across her flesh again and the pain swept any further words away. She tried to kick but he shoved his leg between hers, the belt stung like fire with each bite to her flesh.
"And for not bloody telling me!" He replied.
"Yes, because you've been so forthcoming!" She shouted over her shoulder, glaring through her tears as he raised his arm back again. "You let her return, pregnant with your child!" She cursed at the sudden pain. "And you've been screwing her ever since! You unfaithful bastard!"
"Wife," he laughed bitterly, "you have no idea of how ignorantly you speak."
"I should have been born a man!" She spat viciously.
"And I never should have married you," was his very cold reply. His arm was aching and his strength drained from him. He had no further stomach for this. He tossed the belt aside and stumbled back from her.
"And for that very reason, I wish I had told you!" She shrieked, stung by his coarse speech as much as by the belt. "I would not have married you either, if I'd known you'd sired those bastards! If I'd known you'd bought that doxy with you! I would not have married you. But we both know you would have married me, William. How else could you have gotten your hands on my inheritance and my father's Plantation and all my land!" She pushed herself up from the bed, saw that the belt was no longer in his hands, and she looked for it. Seeing it on the floor, she snatched it up and sent it sailing toward him with all her mite. He raised his arms and took the full force of the blow across his wrists. As she was lifting the belt for another blow, he seized her wrist and pulled the leather strap free of her fingers.
"You damned whore," he spat, still holding her wrist, his eyes ice and cruel and completely lacking anything approaching human. "You should have told me," he hissed down at her. "If you had told me you'd spread your fucking legs for Banastre, I never would have taken you for my wife!"
"Another lie! You would have married me if I'd fucked Banastre and all his men! Otherwise you would not have been able to secure my fortune!" She spat. Christ her bottom was hurting, the belt had bitten her skin and she could feel that her cheeks were glowing red and smarting. "You're a goddamned liar!"
"As are you, and you're a whore!" He spat right back. "Doxy! Did you think you were pregnant?"
"Don't be such a God kissed fool!" She hissed, outraged. "I married you because I loved you!"
"Not enough to tell me you'd already fucked another man first." He stared down at her - she was always challenging him. Always defiant. She was not properly subservient and nor would she ever be. Her buckskin peasant father had raised a little wild cat, she was not a proper lady at all. A bawd - a doxy who had already sampled the pleasures of the flesh well before marrying him. "How many others were there, before Tarleton?" He asked her cruelly and had the satisfaction of seeing her recoil with shock.
"None!" She gasped; horrified, aghast.
"It is I who was the fool," he spat. "And Tarleton too no doubt. You probably offered up your quim to that Watson fellow, and to Arthur Simms for all I know."
"There were no others, William. Not like you. Mrs. Tisdale and how many others! And now Linda, right under my nose!" She curled her lip in disgust. "And now you've sired another bastard - there's three of them, who can own to the Tavington name! You're siring bastards all over the place! And you call me doxy."
"The appellation suits you well," was his retort, insulting her to the highest degree.
"Ho!" She cried lifting her arm back to hit him but he seized her wrist before the low could land. "I swear, William, you will not be able to sleep soundly at night! I'll slash your throat in your sleep!"
"I thought you said you were leaving?" He taunted to show he no longer cared if she did.
"I am. I don't ever want to see you again."
"I'll think of you often," he leaned down to her, his eyes cold and hard. "I'll think of the very first time you dropped to your knees for me, right in this very room. The first time with me, but not your first time," he said, voice low, soft. "Whore," he whispered in her ear.
"Cunt," she whispered in his.
He snapped back from her, startled. Gazing down at her, it was disconcerting to see his contempt reflected back at him.
William took several steps back from her, his hands ready to deflect if she came at him again. The belt, he had secure hold of, he wasn't about to let her get hold of that again. To his left, he saw from the corner of his eye, Banastre's arm braced on the edge of the bed as he pushed himself up.
When he was on his feet, Banastre stared at the two, clearly trying to understand what he'd missed. His eyes landed on Beth's bright red and tear streaked face, how hard she was breathing, the pain etched in her features. How she clutched at the wall as if for something to hold on to. And the skirts that were hitched up all wrong. Then he saw the belt in William's fingers.
"You bastard," he breathed.
"It's over," William said. He had lost count of the amount of times he'd whipped her flesh. Her backside, those half crescents he'd loved so much, were now striped a livid red. He'd struck her so many times, he could not see where one weal ended and another began.
Beth shoved her skirts the rest of the way back down but she stayed where she was, not quite leaning against the wall. Her legs were weak, she could barely stand, but the very idea of sitting down… She was in too much pain to sit on her rump. She remained there, half leaning against the wall, glaring at her husband through her tears.
"As if you never did those thing with your whore," she gasped, wishing she could stop weeping. How dare he reduce her to this? And how dare he look at her like that? How dare he make her feel dirty?
"Not after I married you, no matter what you choose to believe," he replied.
"I was the one who was faithful, William!" She cried.
"No, Beth. You were not," he said. "You defiled yourself with him and then kept it secret from me. I married you in good faith, only to discover I married a whore."
Beth growled something inarticulate, her voice strangled with outrage and her tears.
"Tell me one thing," he said to Banastre, voice cold and hard. "Did you screw her here, in this house?"
Banastre had no wish to provoke William to more violence against Beth, violence he would be sore pressed to prevent. For answer, he replied, "now how could I? I've been too sick to get up to piss in the chamber pot, let alone have relations with a woman."
"Don't test my patience, Tarleton, you'll find I'm quite at the end of it," William threatened. "I was referring to your time here before, as you damned well know."
"Don't try to protect me from him, Banastre," Beth said. "Our marriage is over and I'm finished with all the lies. Yes, William. We had relations in this house."
He quivered. "Did you bed him after we were married?"
"No. You have called me many things just now, but you can not add adultery to the list. That stays well and truly within your own domain."
"You little fool," he said. William turned from her to Banastre. He could see the fellow was drained, there was an ungainly heaviness in his limbs, his usual grace and power gone. William wanted to truss the fellow up and drop him out the window. But his strength was draining from him; he tossed the belt onto the floor and pushed past his rival, without even looking at his wife.
"Take her," he snapped over his shoulder, contempt ringing in his voice. He recalled Beth's threat to slash his throat while he slept, and he wasn't entirely certain that she had not meant it. "Get her out of my sight or one of us will not live the night," he said, feeling every bit as wrathful. He could not imagine sleeping along side her, threats against his life or not. He was as likely to murder her as she was him. There would be no peace for either of them, not now.
"I fully intend to," Banastre replied. He watched William warily. "Don't think to come after us, William; I'll not give her up to you easily."
"You won't have to," William scoffed. He turned back to Beth, his lip curled as he stared down at her. Where once he saw the woman he loved when his eyes fell upon her, now all he could see was yet another whore with Banastre's cock shoved in her mouth. He could barely look at her without feeling utter disgust. "I want you gone from this house," he announced and she bristled, furious that he would think to evict her from her own families home. She was about to give him a blistering but he continued, "even if you beg on bended knee, I'll not take you back."
"Beg you?" She asked, trying for dignified calm. She held her chin high; tear streaked, blotched face notwithstanding. "On bended knee? You must be mad."
"I don't see why that would surprise you, you seem to quite like being on your knees," William shot back cruelly. Banastre tightened his lips and Beth quivered from head to toe - such an insult! Finally, he said, derisively, "And you call Linda a whore." He shook his head, and for a moment, she honestly thought he'd spit at her feet. But then strode toward the door.
"I'm leaving because I can not stand to even look at you!" She shouted as he reached for the broken bolt. He did not turn back. "Betrayer! I'd not take you back if you begged! Kick me out of this house, will you? I'm going to write to Clinton. I'll inform him of your betrayal, you only have this house through me, and I'll make sure he knows our marriage is at an end so he will remove it from you!"
"Yes, Beth, do tell Clinton that you spread your legs and offered up your quim to Banastre before marrying me, because that doesn't reflect poorly on you at all!" He scoffed.
"And I want my money back!" She screamed, ignoring his insults. "Every damned penny, you'll not spend my inheritance on your whore! Do you hear me!"
Of course, that was something he wouldn't reply too - William stepped out of the room and the door shut behind him. With the closing of that door, the weight of everything seemed to descend upon her at once and she sat heavily to the bed, only to jerk back to her feet when the sudden increased flare of pain almost caused her to faint. Banastre came to stand before her, his face filled with love and commiseration.
"I'm not a whore," she whispered to him. The horrid insults had stung as much as the pain of William's belt. "I'm not…"
"Shh, of course you're not," Banastre wrapped his arms around her. She was a quivering mess against his chest, gasping in huge breaths. He gently stroked strands of golden hair away from the tears coating her face. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began trying to clean her.
"He beat me," she whispered, fingers curling into his jacket. "Oh, my Lord, he beat me."
"Come now," he took her gently by the shoulders and pulled her close. She hissed as her shift and skirts slid across her rump, brushing across the livid, painful weals. She could barely stand and had to lean heavily on Banastre, who could barely stand himself. He managed to support her with one arm and to scoop up her saddle bags with the other, then he guided her toward the door.