Chapter 122 - Three Requests Denied:

Richard trudged up the stairs, feeling every one of his thirty years. He opened his chamber door, to discover Cilla sitting on their bed, knees drawn to her chest, cheeks wet with tears. Damn and blast Mrs. Felton and her damned suspicions. If not for her, he would not have had to put on such a display with Cilla, Harmony would not have become jealous and uncertain, there would not have been the dreadful confrontation that followed. Everything had been perfectly fine this morning, but now his house was in upheaval. How could it all have gone so horribly wrong? He sat down on the bed beside her, heaving a sullen sigh. Much as Harmony had, Cilla dashed at her tears with the back of her hand.

"I want her removed from this house, Richard," her harsh voice broke the silence. He glanced at her, startled. "I meant it, I won't tolerate her saying such horrid things to me any more - this is not the first time and you know it. I have had enough. You know that I do not deserve it."

"I do know," he nodded. "She's sorry, if it is any consolation," he said gently. "Just now, she admitted to being jealous of you. That is the reason she is unable to be civil, she said. I asked her to take it out on me in future, if she becomes distressed again. She agreed, and she said she was sorry."

"She said she's sorry? Strange, I must not have heard her," she said archly and Richard groaned. "Did you tell her those things? She knew about the spying, did you tell her that I coupled with you willingly?"

"No, Cilla. I do not discuss it with her. When you and I were first married, I wrote to Harmony to inform her. I was distraught, I love her and was worried how much pain it would cause. I told her ours was a name only marriage, but that you were pregnant by me -"

"Dear God," Cilla whispered.

"But I went into no further details than that," he said.

"Of course you did not," Cilla spat. "If you had, she likely wouldn't be here. If she knew the truth about it."

Richard's face paled and he felt suddenly cold.

"I want her gone, Richard."

He lurched to his feet and strode to the window. "I can't," he said, gaze locked on the yard outside. "If she leaves here, she will be in danger. I will keep her here, where she is safe. Where you bought her to, Cilla."

"Yes, I did bring her here, but I had no idea that she would treat me as she does. I can't keep living this way, with the horrid things she says when she's angry. It makes me feel dirty, that she thinks I bedded you to spy on you, and to secure a husband. I whored my way into matrimony," she quoted bitterly. "We both know the truth, Richard," her voice hardened, he could feel her eyes boring into his back.

"I will not remove her from this house," he said again, glad his back was turned so she could not see the twist of guilt cross his features. "Anything but that. I owe you, I know I do. But anything but that." He paused, then continued, imploring, "everything is fine now, Cilla. I've spoken to her, she will keep a civil tongue now. If she is angry, she will take it out on me, not you. Can't you try to see this from her point of view? She feels as though she has to share me. It kills her to see you and I together. It is painful to her, that she does not have the primary place in my life that was promised to her. It breaks her heart, Cilla, can't you see that? You might be my wife, but she is actually in love with me."

Cilla blanched, her fingers curled to fists.

"Can you imagine it, even for a moment?" He asked, trying to reach her. "Being in love, and having to share. Not only that, but having to tolerate being relegated to second best - the mistress. Can't you understand her at all? Have you never been in love, Cilla?"

The colour leached from her face, she barely seemed to be drawing breath. "I'll never know love," she whispered after a moments silence. "I'll never know what it is like, to fall in love. To be courted. To feel that rush of excitement, when my suitor comes to call upon me. You stole all that away from me when you… I'll never know love, because I am married to you," her dark eyes shone with unshed tears.

Richard stared at her aghast, his eyes wide and bewildered. His heart thumped quickly in his breast, the stark pain in her eyes piercing him. Did she blame him? Was this another injustice caused by him, one had had never considered? He shied away from the thought, afraid of where it might take him. After a moment, he said earnestly, "then you'll never know heartache."

"Oh, Richard," she whispered, voice filled with a bitterness he could not stand to hear. "From the day you had me dragged to the dungeon to this very moment, I've known nothing but heartache."

He stumbled back a step, his feet automatically wanting to race for the door. She had not confronted him for so long… He turned away, unable to meet her gaze. His mind refusing to consider what sort of future his actions had snatched away from her. He could not face it, he could not bear to speak of it. He drew a deep breath, then forced his voice to behave, to be normal, as though nothing were wrong between them. "Look Cilla," he began, firm but kind. "It is all because that woman came, she was trouble - I knew that from the moment I saw her sitting there with that vulpine look on her face. She was the cause for all this bother between us, but she is gone now. Everything will be fine now."

"It is not fine," Cilla said, speaking through clenched teeth. "Everything is most certainly not fine and you are in denial if you think otherwise. I've had to tolerate those awful things she says over and over again and I know she'll have more to say of it in future, the next time her temper is up, regardless of some promise she gave you just now. The next time she is driven to feel jealousy," she spat. "I will tolerate no more of it, Richard. I should not have to - it's your fault we had to marry. Yours, not mine. You rebuke her for not being grateful? You did that awful, filthy, foul thing to me and yet I've done everything within my power to help you back into O'Hara's good graces. You should be the one showing gratitude and you can start by giving me this one boon. I want her removed from this house."

"That is something I will not do," he replied, his own voice hardening. "I told you, anything but that." The silence stretched, he could still feel her staring at him. He stiffened his spine, resolute.

"Then let me go," her voice was soft now, smooth, much of the anger vanishing. He stood there shocked and he finally turned back to face her. "Let me go," she repeated.

"What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled.

"My mother is with my Aunt Charlotte," Cilla's heart was in her dark, emotional eyes. "No one will consider it strange at all, should I go to them. Everyone thinks Beth is with them and no one has batted an eyelid. We can think of a perfectly plausible reason for my being there, too. You did as much for Beth, and no one has second guessed you."

"No. You don't even know where that is. Just… No." He replied, turning from her again.

"You owe me a debt, you said. Anything but sending her away, you said. And so I am asking you to send me away instead." He heard the rustle of silk as she climbed off the bed and he soon felt her small hand on his shoulder. "No one will think twice of it, Richard," she said again. "Please. Let me go."

He shook his head. How could he send her to her mother? Women like Mrs. Felton, who was already suspicious, would certainly think it more so, if Cilla went off and Harmony remained. Nor was he willing to send Harmony away. He needed Cilla there, to be the public face of their marriage and to remove any suspicions from him and Harmony. No, they both must stay, he thought grimly.

"People would wonder why Harmony didn't accompany you," he said. "You've led them to believe that she is yours and Beth's friend and that she is nothing to me. If you were to go where they think Beth is, they would expect for Harmony to go also. Your leaving will jeopardise everything. Besides, I need you here," he tossed his head, his voice hardening again. "Especially after Mrs. Felton's visit today. She suspects that Harmony and I are still having an affair, but she has seen you and I together now and is satisfied that we are a properly married couple. She invited us to dinner, Cilla. A proper formal dinner - to celebrate William's and my accomplishments! That is something my wife should attend!"

Cilla dropped her hand and turned away, thinking on the method Richard had used to convince Mrs. Felton. He'd made it appear as though he were in love with Cilla. All those kisses. She could still feel the touch of his fingers along her neck, the caress of his lips against her palm. The nearness of his body, when he perched so close to her. It had been far too long since she'd felt anything like it.

"We have been working so well together, Cilla. It does take us both, to keep people convinced," he said. Lord, why did she look so melancholy? "And I promise you that from now on, I shall do my part. It will not be all on your shoulders anymore. But they would begin to suspect we were lying all along, if you were to leave now." If anything, her melancholy seemed to increase and she sat down again on the side of the bed. "O'Hara is fond of you," he continued. "I need you to help charm the officers. You were born to a distinguished family, just as I was. I do not have to explain to you why, as I have to explain it to Harmony."

Cilla gazed up at him, forcing herself to swallow an insulting remark about Harmony's heritage. The woman was a heathen, to not understand what was at stake. It is why Cilla proposed he let her go discreetly; a trip to her mother and aunt Charlotte would not be taken amiss, not with everyone believing that Beth had gone to them. "We can say that I must leave for Beth has fallen sick, and that Harmony was advised not to come for she'll risk her baby," she said, trying one last time. "That would explain her remaining here, Beth's continued absence and my leave-taking, all in one go. No one will think twice."

"No, I will not risk it," there was a finality in those words.

It was not to be, he was not going to let her go. She hung her head. "It takes all three of us. You say you will start doing your part, but will she? She rails at me, insults me, when none of this is my fault. It can not go on like this."

"We have both spoken to her," he said gently. "I do not believe she will ever say those things to you again."

"As if she has have any control over her tongue, whatsoever," Cilla laughed softly, a frustrated bark - there was no humour in it.

"What would you have me do, Cilla?" He asked her. "I will not send either of you away, please do not ask it again."

"What are you going to do when the child comes?" Cilla asked, meeting his eyes.

"Christ, Cil. How long were you listening for?" He frowned at her, perturbed by her eavesdropping.

"Long enough," she shrugged, unapologetic. "What will you do, Richard?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," his voice was a little sharp. Cilla began plucking at her skirt, though it being silk, there was no pilling for her to agitate over. He asked her again, "what would you have me do? If this is about the baby, then do not even think to request I send it away. I will not."

"I know you won't, I would not waste my breath," her head came up, she appeared all firm and resolve. You said you'd do anything but so far, you've denied me the two requests I've made."

"Neither were reasonable requests, Cilla, even you can see that, surely?"

"Very well, I shall abandon both and request something that is well within your ability to give, something you said you wanted also."

"What is that?" He replied, frowning.

"A child, Richard," she said and his eyebrows climbed his forehead. She ignored his look of stunned astonishment. "I was not ready before, but I am now. If I am to continue to tolerate all this," she waved her arm toward the door and he knew she meant their situation and Harmony. "Then I will do it with a child of my own. As you have said in the past, a child is the only thing that might make our marriage bearable and after the events of this morning, I find I can not agree more. You're certainly not going to make it bearable for me in any other way, are you?" She shot at him and he blanched. "Once a month, you said. Until my belly quickens." She knew she was speaking in a perfunctory sort of way - there was no hint of romance or desire in her voice. She was not comfortable discussing such things, not with Richard. Banastre had bought out the worst - or perhaps the best - in her, time and again, effortlessly. She had thrown all inhibitions to the wind, while in his arms. But to discuss such things with Richard… It was almost impossible.

Banastre had introduced her to an entirely new world, one she had not believed existed. One that - with Banastre's departure - she had been denied far too long. She never thought she would want to do those same things with Richard, but she found herself willing now. After months of his careful nurturing, after weeks of sleeping in his arms. Only to have it all suddenly whipped away because of a promise made to Harmony, a promise that had left Cilla wanting. After all their progress to bring about a caring, nurturing marriage… She wanted this, not only to conceive of another child, but because she was ready. Richard was a different man now. Or, at the very least, the monster she feared initially was well and truly gone. And he was her husband, he was the only chance she would ever have, to become a mother. To experience the joy and pleasure of coupling again. Unless she took a lover to her bed; something she had done for a short time, but did not relish doing again.

He gaped down at her, stunned.

"You're ready…" He said, as if tasting the words. "Christ, Cilla."

"Well?" She said, straightening her spine. "What are you thinking?"

"That I… Ah…" He stumbled over his words for a moment, then he, too, straightened his spine. "I did want that for us, it is true. I thought I required - when I thought we would never be content with each other. I couldn't imagine a childless marriage, with nothing to bring you and I together. But we're fine now. We don't need… I will not plague you with such matters again. I am not so concerned about having a childless marriage with you now, I think it is enough, being just you and I. I did wish for you to provide me an heir, but I release you from that now."

"You… release me," she said, voice flat. "You release me. From providing you with an heir."

"I recall how distraught the suggestion made you, when first I made it," he said, voice polite.

"Then, yes it did," she admitted, remembering the conflict in herself back then. Apprehension at bedding him, mingled with the yearning of her child."But we had not come so far then, as we have now."

"I will not entertain this," he turned back to the window. Cilla gaped at his back, shocked by his reaction. By his second rejection. It was last night all over again. "You were willing to entertain it before! It was your suggestion in the first place!" She snapped, suddenly angry. "Why not now? What has changed?"

"What has changed that you would want to…" he paused, nostrils flaring. "Lord, Cilla, I will not discuss this."

"What has changed with me?" She asked, eyebrows narrowed, ignoring his declaration that he would not discuss it, "everything has changed! You take and take and take and give me nothing in return! I have to watch her stomach growing with your child every day while mine is still empty. I should have been five months pregnant by now! Do you even think of that? Do you think of our child at all? Or perhaps you don't care, because you have Harmony's one to replace it!"

"That's not it at all," he said, his heart flaring with pain at the raw agony in her voice. They hardly ever spoke of her miscarriage, he hadn't realised she was still carrying the grief of losing it.

"I'm tired of having a name only marriage," Cilla snapped. "I know what I'm missing out on now, I will never have a suitor or love or any of it - there is only you! My only recourse to happiness is through you and by God, don't you owe me as much? I want a proper marriage - I want more from you now! I'm tired of being an outsider, second to Harmony!"

"Lord, what is the matter with you two women?" He threw his arms wide, anger rushing in. "You're both pulling me this way and that, placing me in impossible situations! Christ, that is not true, you are not an outsider. You have a place in my life, Cilla!"

"Her place is stronger! You kiss me and caress me and say sweet things, but only for the benefit of Mrs. Felton and the Generals! And when her child comes, it really will be just the three of you, your own little family and I won't be in it! You won't even hold me at night anymore, because Harmony made you promise not too!"

His jaw dropped.

"Oh, yes, I know all about that!" Cilla declared, voice hot. "I tried, last night, Gods, I tried. And what did you do? You turned your back on me! After everything I've done, you're in the General's good graces because of me, Richard, and yet you keep a promise to her to not even hold me? What is wrong with you!"

"How did…" He trailed off, his eyes wide.

"Oh yes, how I discovered your awful promise is what matters now, isn't it? Are you even listening to me?" She raged. "Harmony is the one who has your love, she is where you give your true, unfeigned affection! What do I have, Richard? She is going to bear you a child, while my stomach is empty. You sleep in her bed nightly, while leaving me cold and frustrated in ours! What has changed in me? Perhaps I don't want to be barren and alone, any more! Perhaps I want this 'name only' marriage to be like the one we've been presenting to the world!"

He stared at her as if she had just grown a second head. He suddenly remembered Harmony's accusation, she had accused Cilla of falling in love with him. He hadn't given it any credence, for Harmony had said it out of jealously. But he remembered Cilla leaning into his touch, he recalled his observation at the time, that her reaction to him appeared unfeigned, and he had marveled at her ability to act. He had kissed her palm, she had held her breath and quivered... All for the benefit of Mrs. Felton, he had thought. Now, he wondered if there was more to it than that, on her part, and the very idea astonished him.

When all he did was stare, Cilla ground her teeth together, then spat out, "if you can't do that, then at least give me a child, or send me to my mother, where I can be loved and not be lonely!"

"We don't even know where she is! I will not send you to her, and that is final. As for being lonely, you have more than enough company with the likes of that Mrs. Felton. You have her daughter, you have Mrs. Campbell, Mrs. Reynolds and her daughters! You do not want for company." He could not let her leave. He was still very anxious regarding his standing with the Generals, and he worried that in sending Cilla away, he would lose much of their attention. Her charm and her manners reflected well on him. He still needed her on his arm, to bewitch the Generals - most especially, O'Hara.

"That is not the sort of company I mean!" She cried. "It is not the sort of loneliness an acquaintance can fill!"

"I am not sending you away," he said, voice low and stern. She threw her arms up.

"Then give me a family! It is what you wanted, it was your suggestion in the first place! I want a child, Richard. A child of my very own!" She thought of the child she had lost, and her eyes filled with tears. "I would have been five months pregnant by now!" She choked out again. "Harmony will provide you with a bastard, let me provide you with an heir!"

"I can not," he drew a shuddering breath, then continued reluctantly, "when I married you, I promised Harmony that she would still be the only woman I had relations with."

She stared at him for several long moments, then the explosion began. Cilla lurched from the bed, lightening to his thunder. Even her hair seemed to crackle with her rage.

"You did what?" She bellowed, loud enough to be heard in the corridor. "You made a vow to your mistress, to not bed your own wife?" She threw her arms up. "And I thought making you promise not to hold me was bad enough! I'm to be denied love for the rest of my life. And now children are out of the question also?"

"Cilla, calm down, the servants will hear you," he commanded and she whirled on him, appearing on the verge of screaming at him some more. He raised one hand to forestall her. "This has nothing to do with loneliness or the want to provide me with a child. You speak of having children? You tell me you're ready? I recall the look on your face, when I suggested it to you, how little joy you took from the idea," he continued, refusing to acknowledge what her needs might be now.

"Well, now I know of your promise to her, I wonder why you ever suggested it in the first place! Could it be because you want us to have children, Richard?" She yelled, voice filled with sarcasm. "You were willing to break your promise then, but now you are not?"

"This is all very abrupt, which makes me question why you are bringing it up now, at all!" Richard shot back, refusing to acknowledge her argument. "Frankly, Cilla, you are as jealous of Harmony's position in my life, as she is of yours. You are jealous that Harmony is having my baby. This has nothing to do with wanting a child or needing true affection from me. You are jealous of Harmony, Cilla."

"That is not the case at all," she snapped, stalking up to him and craning her head back. "This has nothing to do with her. I do want a child of my own, Richard, or have you forgotten how distraught I was when I lost ours? I would be five months along by now! I still long to be a mother! Will you deny me this simple right, the right of any wife?"

"We both abdicated our rights the day we married!"

"Oh, no, Richard, you will not sidle out of this so easily. You were ready to forget all about our abdicating our rights - it was your idea we try again! But now, you'll use your reneging the rights of a husband as an excuse? That is not the reason you won't give me a child - it is because you made your mistress a promise! After everything you've done to me, will deny me a child, because of an oath you gave to your mistress? Will you not even try to make me some form of recompense?" She whirled, her skirts swirling around her legs.

Would he? He wondered, moved by her argument and the force of her passion. But to break an oath to Harmony… He closed his eyes, conflicted.

"Jealous," she spat. "Of all the ridiculous notions. Do I, your wife, need to drop to my knees and beg you?" She shouted. "I will not do it! I will bypass you altogether, before stooping to such as that!"

"What do you mean?" He asked, aghast.

"I'll take a lover," she raged. I've done it once, I can do it again! "And I'll come home pregnant with his bastard!"

Richard gaped, his eyes bulging.

"Why not? You're bringing a bastard into our marriage, why shouldn't I? When it is born, it would have the last name 'Bordon', for you would have no choice but to raise it or admit that we don't have the stupendous marriage we've been pretending to have, which would in turn make you lose face with the General's!"

"Why would you do such a thing?" He breathed, honestly shaken.

"I want a child!" She cried. "I want the child I lost! I want the child you promised to give me! It was you who asked me to imagine what our life will be like, just the two of us, with no children! And I have imagined it, Richard. And lately, I've come to realise how much worse it will be when you give in to her every whim, removing more and more of yourself from me, soon you'll sleep in another chamber entirely, all for her! You have each other and your child and what the devil do I have? Nothing! Do you imagine, when you dragged me into the dungeon that day, that this is the life I would have chosen for myself?" She shouted and he blanched. "If you keep that awful promise to her, our marriage won't be the horrid picture you described - of it being just you and me. No. It'll be just me! How could you even consider having a childless marriage? Our entire future - dust! And because of these ill conceived vows you keep making to your damned mistress!"

"Much has changed," he bellowed, voice deep, thunder rolling over a mountain. "I will not break yet another promise to Harmony. She's been through far too much and is going through hell now as it is!"

"And I'm not?" She cried.

"How much worse would it be if I took you to my bed?" He said, speaking over her. "Lord, why don't I just go and stab her in the chest right now? It would be kinder!"

"Always Harmony!" Cilla shrieked. Richard took a step toward her, hand outstretched as if preparing to muffle further revealing shrieks. Lord, the servants would be listening to this marital spat from the corridor. She whirled away from him with a swiftness he had not suspected her capable of. "You dare tell me I'm silly for feeling like an outsider?" She cried, voice shrill and piercing. "That is exactly what I am! It's always her! What she's been through! What about what I've been through - what you put me through! You don't care anything at all about me or how I'm feeling or what being married to you has denied to me or what I might need from you!" She let loose a mindless shriek and he cursed under his breath, ducking out of the way a split hair before a vase came crashing toward his head. It smashed against the wall in a hundred pieces and he stared down at it, utterly stunned. "Get. Out," Cilla commanded him now, accusing finger pointed at the door. "I want you out!"

"We will discuss this," he said softly, more than a little disturbed by her anger. "In the morning. When you've calmed."

"Agh!" She shouted again and reached for another priceless ornament, a porcelain statue. Bordon strode across the chamber and threw open the door, hoping to save the statue by taking his offensive presence from their quarters. Her hand snapped out and she seized the door, and as soon as he was in the corridor, she gave it an almighty shove, slamming it closed with a bang. Three servants stood in the corridor, the pretty maid Vickie included. They beat a hasty retreat, terrified at being caught eavesdropping. He barely noticed them. He stared, perplexed, at the still quivering door. He could hear her striding about the chamber, he heard her muttering something but could not make out the words.

"Tomorrow," he said softly as his feet carried him toward Harmony's chamber. "I'll fix this tomorrow."

Harmony was standing at her door, waiting for him. "What was all that?" She asked, her hand on the door frame.

"I…" he paused, then realised there was no way he could explain it. Instead, he cocked his head to one side. "I know it's early, Harm. But will you let me in?"

Her smile brightened the corridor, the cheer spreading to his heart. In a naughty, insinuating voice, she drawled, "I'll always let you in, Richard."

He laughed despite himself and when she took his hand and led him into her chamber, he bolted the door behind them, the fight with Cilla already pushed to the back of his mind.

"I've had more than I can bear," Cilla announced to the empty room. "Papa, forgive me. I know you need me here, but I have had more than I…" She paused, tears slipping down her cheeks. "No more," she shook her head, then began to move about the chamber with determined strides. "No more." She repeated, throwing open the chest with her belongings. "Papa will have to rely on the others," she began pulling her clothes from the chest and shoved them into a small portmanteaus. "He will send me to mama. Where I am wanted. Where I am loved. Richard took everything from me, and he takes everything still!" she sobbed, eyes blurred as she continued shoving her belongings into the portmanteaus. "Until I am left with nothing. All those caresses and kisses. All for show. He does not want me. Damn you, you damned bastard!" She spat, overcome.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and closed her eyes, tried to slow the racing of her heart. She had finally begun to want something more from Richard, after all those months of wanting nothing to do with him at all. It had been his suggestion, that they have a child. It was at his behest, that she become accustomed to the idea of having relations. And it had been him, charming his way into her cold soul, the soul he had almost destroyed; warming her, encouraging her, until she found herself wanting all that he had suggested to her. But he would not give her any of it. Not now. Because it might upset his precious Mrs. Farshaw.

Her eyes snapped opened, dark eyes flashing. She would never get a child, because it would upset Harmony, for he would have to break his vow to her to see the job done. Cilla would never know a man's touch, for the one man in the world who had the right to touch her, was worried about upsetting his precious Mrs. Farshaw.

Mrs. Farshaw, who called Cilla a whore.

"No more," Cilla whispered. "She will pull my strings no more. You will have to do this without me, Richard. I will go to those who love me; I will be unloved no more!"

She rose again, and continued to forcefully shove her belongings into her portmanteaus.

"You will not sleep on the chaise, Cilla," a rough voice jerked her awake, pulling her abruptly from her sleep. She gave a start and gasped, before she recognised the outline of Richard's body above her. He gave her shoulder another shake. "You will not sleep on the chaise," he repeated, pulling on her shoulder, trying to encourage her to the bed.

"What difference does it make?" She spat, all her fury returning, washing over her in a tremendous wave. "Nothing will ever happen between us in that bed."

"I will not have the servants see us sleeping apart, not after they heard you screaming at me," he ground out, already losing patience with her.

"You don't even hold me anymore," she accused, jerking her shoulder back and out of his grasp. "In case it causes your damned mistress distress."

He paused, hearing the hurt in her voice.

"Go back to her, Richard," she snapped.

"It's nearly dawn," he objected. "I need to be seen coming from this chamber, and you will be seen in my bed."

"Where absolutely nothing has happened, for you've made your promises to her," Cilla pulled her blankets up, determined to refuse any request he made.

"If you want, I can..." He paused again, then offered carefully, "you can use my chest as a pillow." The offer left him feeling utterly foolish.

"Oh, how generous of you!" She taunted, increasing his feeling of stupidity. "But I find it rather easy to decline."

"Cilla, I know we went to sleep angry -"

"I went to sleep angry, Richard," she scoffed, sneering up at him. "You went to sleep in pure contentment, with your dick in Harmony's quim."

"Cilla!" He cried, shocked.

"I can smell her on you, Richard. I have no doubt that when you went to sleep, our argument was very far from your mind. You could at least bathe before coming back to me, especially if you're going to demand I share your bed!"

"Don't bother," he growled, infuriated. He moved away, she saw his shape was heading toward the their bed.

"Find a wash stand and pay especial detail to your fingers, Richard," she hurled as he climbed into the bed. "If you're going to spend the day caressing my face and hair to impress O'Hara, at least remove the stench of her quim before you touch me!"

Cilla left the Plantation often. To visit other families, to visit Pembroke. But the following morning, Cilla had been quite nervous about speaking of another trip off the Plantation, now that she was planning to leave Richard forever. She worried that, this once, Richard would not allow her to leave. Silly though, really. Not only had he allowed her, he hadn't even come to bid her farewell. Which made it absurdly easy to hand her portmanteaus over to Mila, with the excuse that she was giving some of her clothes to the Reynolds' sisters. As if they had need of her cast offs. But Mila did not know that.

All Mila knew, was that Cilla was heading to Pembroke, where she planned to look over Mrs. Campbell's wares at the mercantile with Mrs. Reynolds and her daughter's. She was going to buy some lawn, she said, to make Richard a new shirt. All of this was told to Richard, by Mila, who Cilla sent to relay that she was to visit the village. Mila had returned within minutes, not only bearing his blessing, but his command that the carriage be hitched and ten Dragoons form up to escort her.

Couldn't wait to be rid of me, Cilla thought. Well, you won't need to worry about my returning, either.

It had gone off without a hitch. Old Lucas drove the carriage, and Mila - who was not quite recovered, was quite content to 'wait' in the carriage.

"I'll be sometime, Mila," Cilla said to Mila as old Lucas opened the door for her. "I plan to look at the lawn and other things at the mercantile, and when that is done, I'll take some tea with Mrs. Campbell. The Reynolds' girls will be arriving later and we plan to have lunch there, at Mrs. Campbell's. I could be hours... I know you are still feeling poorly. I doubt you're up to attending me all that time. Why don't you just wait here until I return? You can even go to sleep here, I won't mind."

The offer did not make the maid suspicious. If anything, Mila looked absurdly grateful. The maid was almost falling asleep, her head resting against the window. It would be sometime before she deemed it necessary to stir from the cabin. Cilla picked up her portmanteaus, and stepped down from the carriage. She was soon staring up at ten dragoons, and wondering how she could possibly shed herself of them.

She began her spiel all over again, finishing this time with, "I don't need you protecting me at the mercantile," she laughed. "I hear the tavern here is quite fine. Why don't you pay it a visit?" The Dragoons exchanged pleased glances - most of these were local Loyalist boys, newly recruited, who still thought the whole affair of being recruited was a great lark. They bowed and gave their thanks before retreating down the street toward the tavern.

When the Dragoons were gone, Old Lucas and Cilla began to walk along the street slowly, Cilla eyed the British soldiers stationed throughout the village. Those, would not be so easy to fool. They were proper British infantry soldiers, well trained and always suspicious. Still, she could see no reason for a single one of them to detain her.

"His name be Morgan," Old Lucas said softly. "He knows these parts like the back of his hand."

"Very well. Now, when they question you, you must tell them what I told you -"

"That ye commanded me to remain with the carriage and keep watch over poor Mila," he grinned down at her.

"Yes. There is a letter for my husband on the seat. Make certain he finds it, will you?"

They parted ways, with Cilla apprehensively approaching what she hoped was the correct house. Morgan's residence, the local man whom old Lucas was certain would give her a ride out of town on his buckboard, without asking her too many questions as to why. He had smuggled men from outside the keen eye of the British at Pembroke before. Hopefully he would do the same for her, also. The shop he lived above appeared half burned, but when she entered, she saw the blaze had not touched the interior. The building had been saved - unlike some of the other buildings across in the village, those which had not survived Tavington's wrath all those months ago.

Cilla clutched her bag to her chest as a heavy footsteps thudded on the stairs. An older man appeared in the door, he was in dire need of a shave and there was an interesting smell about him.

"Eh?" He called to her, walking with a rolling limp. "What can I do for ye?"

"I am Benjamin Martin's niece," she introduced herself as Old Lucas had instructed. The fellow stopped dead, his bleary eyes widening. "I am told you have helped people win free of Pembroke before? While avoiding... British attention..." She hinted, dipping her hand into her pocket and producing several sovereigns. Morgan came forward, a grin on his face.

"That I can, Miss," he replied, his hands closing over her fingers, holding the money still in her hand. "And if ye're that old bastard's niece, I'll win ye free of British attention for nothing."

She smiled weakly, a thrill of apprehension shooting through her.

In the end, leaving Pembroke had been as simple as leaving Fresh Water.

Mr. Morgan had his wagon loaded with supplies, and with a pass in his hand and a simple chat with the guards, in which he casually hinted that the pretty sitting next to him was his niece, he had them away and trundling along the road within a half hour. Cilla glanced over her shoulder as Pembroke disappeared behind the bend in the road, she was tense, half expecting the Dragoons to come stumbling out of the tavern in search of her, or the guards to realise their error and come racing toward them.

"I can't believe my father is no longer at Mrs. Rutledge's plantation," she sighed, slumping around and facing forward. That was where she had thought to go, she told Morgan, until he disabused her. She recalled Richard's interest in Rutledge Plantation, he had routed a nest of rebels who were camped almost on Henrietta's property. Her father, Cilla had known, though Richard never did learn that little tidbit. She'd hoped her father would return there now that the place had been searched, but Mr. Morgan had just told her that her father did not dare.

"That Major put the fear of Christ in her, he did," Morgan and Cilla had spent the half hour in Pembroke in conversation, she had confided who she really was and some of why she needed to leave, and he had told her the latest news of the County. "Mr. Putman, I'm told, didn'a want her to be frighted even more, so he did not return."

"And you don't have any idea where he might have gone," she sighed, frustrated.

"Not yet, but I can find out for ye," he spoke in the slightly muffled way men did, when they constantly had a pipe between their teeth. Smoke drifted upward around Morgan, it puffed from his lips. "We'll keep to the smaller trails, madam, and we'll ask every man I be knowin' we can trust, until we find him."

"And if it's my husband's men whom find us first?" She asked, her arms hugging her chest.

"Never happen lass, not while yer with me. I know all the of the trails that they don't. Never ye mind, we'll get ye to yer da soon enough."

"I hope so," she heaved a sigh and gazed into the thick trees growing above the road. Pain clenched her stomach as she thought of Richard. How would he react, when he was given the letter? She hoped it would be hours yet, before that happened. But eventually, he would come to realise she was gone, and she was not coming back. What would he say? Would he even care?

Perhaps he'll be relieved, she thought, closing her eyes against the pain. He'll move swiftly to protect himself, he'll tell them all that I've gone to visit my mother, just as he told them Beth had gone there, when she left with Ban. And then he'll settle in with Harmony, who will bear him a child, and he will be happy without me. As for me...

She opened her eyes and stared at the long road ahead. Who knew what was in store for her, what her new road would give her? She'd come to care deeply for Richard, she realised as the wagon took her further and further away from him. But he did not care for her. He loved Harmony, Cilla's future was not there, with them. There was no place in Richard's life for her. She had a different future in store for herself and she thought then, as she straightened her spine and tried to push aside the longing for her husband, that perhaps it wouldn't be a terrible one. She was already married, and by rights, she could not take another husband unless Bordon died. Her heart gave a lurch at the idea, it was hard enough leaving him as it was, she did not want to learn later that he had died and that she was free to remarry.

But perhaps his death was not the only way she could marry again. Everything was changing now, wasn't it? Soon, if her people had their way, they would cut themselves completely from England. Such a major change would cause a time of major upheaval. During that time, would anyone really care that she had left her British husband, and taken a new one?

Not if he was a Patriot...

Perhaps not all is lost, she thought, trying to cheer herself as she stared down the long, empty, bumpy road. Perhaps there would be another husband for her, waiting down that long road, and children, and love, and all the wonderful things a proper marriage could offer. It was a happy thought and it did cheer her somewhat, for she was young yet, and she was pretty, from one of the greater families, she would find a decent husband with ease. Still, tears stung her eyes and she closed them again, pulled her knees up to her chest, and tried to hide from Mr. Morgan that she was weeping. She had done the right thing, she knew it in her heart. Richard might find it difficult to maintain the balance without her, but it would only be for a short while. The Generals would be leaving Fresh Water soon; he only had to make excuses for her absence for a scant few days, and after that, he would not need her at all.

He will make do without me until then, she thought sombrely. And after the General's are gone, he will not need me at all.

She was not sure which caused her the greatest sadness. That their entire marriage came down to that one, simple need and that Richard would barely miss her, once the General's were gone. Or that in only a few weeks or so, he would actually be grateful for her departure; for with her gone, there would be no more cause of upheaval, between him and his beloved Harmony Farshaw.