A MASSIVE REWRITE OF CAUGHT BETWEEN THREE COLONELS

by Rosemary Tarleton

With varying intent, Colonel's Tavington, Tarleton and Burwell vie for the affection of Beth, daughter of Gentleman and Rebel - Benjamin Martin. Meanwhile, Captain Bordon sets foot on his own life destroying path. Friendships, threatened. Loyalties, questioned. Reputations, destroyed. Can lives be repaired after the storm? STRICTLY ADULTS ONLY. MATURE CONTENT.

144. Chapter 144 - Start of the Slow Road

Chapter 144 - Start of the Slow Road:

The Legion was moving so slowly, it felt almost stopped. Occasionally, a Company within the Legion would stop to prepare a meal or mend equipment. The rest of the Legion continued onward, yet the Company that had stopped never fell behind. They were making a mile, perhaps two, a day. Certainly no more than that. The Dragoons were rarely present - they'd split into several smaller units, with Captain Wilkins, Captain Brownlow, and Tavington himself riding at their heads. Recruiting. Or the luring of more young men to their deaths, as Harmony considered it. She rarely saw her father or brother, both were almost constantly with Tavington, doing their part to recruit more men to the British ranks. She wondered how many of those boys would make it home, when the war was over. She wondered if her father or brother would.

Major Bordon was left in charge of the Legion, a constant presence of military command. Harmony did everything she could to keep as far away from him as possible, even going so far as to put the entire Legion between them, at times. Miss Cordell had become something of a maid to Cilla Bordon. And Mrs. Andrew's was Cilla's midwife. Therefore Harmony hardly ever got to see the three of them, as they were always in close proximity to Richard. Harmony had been with the Legion long enough by now, that she knew plenty of the other women and had found welcome with several camp followers who worked for an Infantry division, cooking and cleaning and - in Harmony's case - treating small wounds and other inflictions that the soldiers were too embarrassed, or scared, to take to the Legion's surgeons.

Trouble with that was, she was travelling with soldiers, but with no proper escort. Young men who knew she was once Bordon's mistress, men who thought Bordon had shed himself of her. Men who wondered if she might set her eyes lower, now that she was without a husband or lover to protect her. At almost nine months pregnant, she was fending off suitors and she thought it utterly absurd. One such fellow looked over to her as he passed her by, he tipped his hat in greeting, smiled widely at her. Did he think she had money? Was that why this one tried to sweet talk her? It was marriage he was after, she did not doubt that. They probably thought Bordon had settled a stipend on his former mistress. Or that the Colonel himself might provide some sort of dowry. It was no secret that Tavington favoured her, he visited her every time he returned to the Legion. Did her would be suitors think they might benefit from that, somehow? Harmony scowled and the fellow, looking quite startled, lowered his hand, his smile slowly fading.

She had no intention of marrying again. Even if she was free of Calvin now. Her family and his had both decided that Calvin had made such a misery of things, they simply could no longer be considered to be married. It hadn't occurred to her that her marriage could be so easily put aside, but as her father had said, "you weren't church wed". She was carrying another man's child, Calvin could not be expected to raise it. And after all the violence Harmony had suffered by his hand, she could not be expected to return to him. She hoped the friendship between the Farshaw's and the Jutland's could one day be what it had been, and with Henry Farshaw declaring that Calvin would answer for what he had done, she thought they just might. This should have caused a schism between the two families, but the friendships between the parents had proven stronger than the folly of their children. Calvin should never have laid his hands on her in anger. He should never have forced her into Colonel Clements bed. Grace and Henry Farshaw had both been horrified that their son could do such a thing. The Farshaw's were embarrassed and felt terrible guilt over the rigours their son had put his wife to. Harmony hoped that the two families could recover from the devastating report she'd given, detailing her life these last two years. Calvin's actions were not their own, but they still felt that they were to blame.

She had freed herself of Clement, she told them. And she should have returned home immediately after and told them everything back then, her father had told her. Instead of staying in the city and eventually taking up with Richard, and then falling pregnant with his child.

They were both to blame, Harmony had admitted. Calvin a far cry more so than Harmony, but in staying in the city and taking up with Richard, she had played a part in her own downfall. As soon as she'd gotten word that Calvin was dead at Savannah, she should have left Mr. Ingles employ and returned home. No, before that. As soon as she'd freed herself from Colonel Clement. No, before that. The first time Calvin had struck her. Her family was just that - her family, and they were there to help her.

Somewhere along the line, Harmony seemed to have forgotten that. She'd thought that in keeping herself away, she would be sparing them. But hindsight had made her realise that she'd likely made things worse for herself.

"What time do you make it?" She asked the soldier standing before her as she wound the bandage around his arm.

"Ah, perhaps eleven," the fellow said. "Nearly midday."

"And you're already soused," she said, arching an eyebrow. She saw his face turn crimson, his eyes widened with chagrin. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell. But if Tavington orders one of his inspections, and if you're found to be drunk, you'll get a whipping to be sure. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Mrs. Farshaw," he said, staring at the ground. He weaved slightly, unable to keep entirely still.

"If you injure yourself again because you're drunk, then they might not pay you. You're no good to them when you've been in your cups, you're putting yourself and others in danger."

"You promise you won't tell?" He asked, glancing up at her.

"I said I wouldn't and I won't," she heaved a sigh. She'd warned him, there was nothing more she could do except tell Tavington and that, she would not do. "All done."

"Thank you, Mrs. Farshaw," the freshly bandaged soldier said.

"You're welcome," Harmony replied to the infantryman. Almost as many accidents happened on the march as they did in battle, though the wounds were not usually as serious. The soldier had tripped and cut his arm badly enough to warrant a plaster tincture and bandage, and it was to her that he came rather than his Companies surgeon. The surgeon would have smelled the whiskey on the soldiers breath - which Harmony did not doubt was the cause of the trip - and would have informed the lad's superiors. To avoid a flogging, the soldier came to Harmony, who was well known to have knowledge of treating such wounds. "Tell the others I might start charging," she called to his retreating back. She'd gained a reputation for her discretion, hence the rising number of soldiers coming to her. This one paused, his back going rigid, and she grinned as she toyed with him. "A shilling a visit. At this rate, I'll be as wealthy as a lady."

"You're already a lady, Mrs. Farshaw. Don't need no money for that," the soldier said as he turned. He bowed and tipped his hat to her. "And my gratitude is all I can afford to give you."

"Gratitude won't fill my belly. Luckily for you, it's already full," she tapped her pregnant stomach. "I'm only jesting," she laughed softly and he grinned back, before turning and going on his way. Harmony began packing away her small shears, bandages and various other assortments when she spotted Miss Cordell walking toward her.

"Mrs. Bordon says you must come at once, Mrs. Farshaw," Miss Cordell said before Harmony could give her the warm greeting she'd been on the verge of. "Mrs. Tavington is here."

"What?" Harmony gasped. "She's here? Now?"

"Yes, she just arrived. She's with Mrs. Bordon and you have to come at once. That's what Mrs. Bordon said."

"Dear God, is Colonel Tavington back yet?"

"I don't think so."

"Alright, well…" Harmony threw the bag over her shoulder. She looked at the wagon she'd been riding on, it was quite a way ahead of her now, as it hadn't stopped when she'd gotten off to tend the soldier. She could see it, but it was more than twenty rods away and going in the wrong direction besides. She heaved another sigh. "Let's go."

With Miss Cordell at her side, Harmony began to pick her way over the muddied ground as quickly as she dared; both her heavily swollen stomach and the worry she might slip and harm her child were the only two factors keeping her from running. Miss Cordell - who was not heavily pregnant and therefore could have walked much faster - instead matched her pace to Harmony's, her hand hovered just above Harmony's arm as though she were a frail invalid who Miss Cordell might need to stop from falling.

"You don't need to rush, Mrs. Farshaw," the younger woman said, sounding worried.

"It's been months," Harmony replied. "Oh, this is so damned frustrating, I wish I could bloody ride." If she tried to mount, she'd likely fall flat on her face in the mud. "Where is a damned cart when you need one?" All morning long, carts and wagons travelled back and forth along the thin tracks all throughout the traveling Legion but right now, when she needed to make haste, was there one? No, of course bloody not. She stopped walking, wiped sweat from her brow - and never mind that it was the middle of winter and bloody freezing - and tried to catch her breath. "Gods, this child - I need it to come out of me. I can't breathe. I can't go five minutes without needing to pass water. And I can't walk five steps without it killing me. I have no idea how I made it to my parents, I must have covered miles that day and now, I can barely go five yards. It's bloody awful, being pregnant."

"Well, I suppose I'll know for myself one day, but I'll have to take your word for it for now," Miss Cordell shrugged. "Oh, a cart! Shall I flag it down for you?"

"Yes, yes!" Harmony whirled to see the cart for herself and she started waving frantically for it to stop. The driver - a private who may have been reluctant to go out of his way to drive a camp follower - stopped immediately for Harmony and began making room for her on the back, between two barrels. Being Richard's former mistress came with some benefits. With his and Miss Cordell's help, Harmony was soon perched on the end, her long legs dangling over the side. "Come up," Harmony held out her hand to help Miss Cordell.

"No, I… I think I'll go see if I can find Mrs. Andrews. She was checking in with Mrs. Cox and she might need my help," Miss Cordell said. She was quite pretty, in her way. Black hair and black eyes, pale skin despite having to work out in the weather. Mrs. Andrews always ensured the girl wore a wide brimmed hat, to protect her skin from the sun, even in winter. Her nose was a little on the bold side but her figure was fine. She had an even temper, bordered on the shy, and just now, she cast her eyes down to the ground, her arms wrapped around her body.

"You're afraid of her," Harmony said and Miss Cordell turned her face slightly to one side.

"She might yell at me again, like she did at Fresh Water."

"I -" Harmony paused, chewed the inside of her lip. She'd been about to reassure the lass, but in truth, Harmony realised, Miss Cordell might be perfectly right. Who knew what was in Beth's thoughts? She'd returned, yes, but she might still be as angry now as she'd been when she left. She hadn't answered a single one of Harmony's letters, though many were sent. And it was Cilla who'd sent for Harmony just now, not Beth. Did Beth even want her to come? Or did she want Harmony to come, only to confront her? Was she still holding a grudge? "I - we - have to talk to her. Explain our side -"

"What side is there? We did exactly what she accused us of. We knew Linda was here and we never told her," Miss Cordell became thoughtful. "Linda wasn't having an affair with Tavington, Mrs. Tavington was wrong in thinking we'd helped to hide some secret liaison, but we did do some of what she accused us of. Anything we say could have her yelling at us again and, to be honest, once was enough for me. I'm not going to come -"

"Miss Cordell -"

"To me, she was always just…" the lass paused, as if trying to find the right words. "The First among camp followers. Our Matron, I suppose. Our Leader. I was never in her intimate circle… She doesn't need me there to greet her."

"What did Mrs. Bordon say? Did she instruct you to come back with me?"

"No. She sent me to fetch you, that is all."

Which meant that Miss Cordell had only been returning with Harmony to ensure she arrived safely. It had been for Harmony's sake, not out of any desire to see Beth. But with Harmony's conveyance assured, there was no need for Miss Cordell to worry - or to escort her. Harmony nodded, smiling sadly. "Well, I thank you. I'll be safe and sound now," she tapped the cart with an open palm. "When you find Mrs. Andrews, will you let her know that Mrs. Tavington is here? She might want to meet with her."

"I doubt it, but I'll tell her," Miss Cordell waved and Harmony waved back. The cart dipped as the private climbed up onto the driver seat, and it resumed its slow plod along the muddy road, pulling away from Miss Cordell, who continued to wave at Harmony. It made her quite melancholy, that Miss Cordell felt the way she did. And Mrs. Andrews too, it seemed. In truth, she was not entirely certain of what her own reception would be, she had no idea how Beth felt about her these days. But it was best to confront it head on, she thought. At least then she would know where she stood. Better to know from the outset, rather than skirt around the issue and wonder for days on end if she was still despised. If she discovered that Beth was still angry with her, she'd hail another cart and return to Miss Cordell and Mrs. Andrews, and tell them. The Legion was big, nearly a thousand and nearly one hundred women. Harmony could hide in such a mass, she need never see Beth at all, if that was how Beth wanted it.

It would hurt, though. Of course it would. The heartache of Beth spurning her would almost equal the pain of ending her affair with Richard. She closed her eyes as a wave of that flooded over her. It wasn't getting any easier. Time healed all wounds, isn't that what they said? Yet the sun rose and it set with the passing of each day and she still cried herself to sleep every single night. Being in his company was agony, which was why she did her utmost to avoid it. Something she might not be able to do, when she gave birth to their baby. Richard had told her parents that he intended to be a proper father, as much as one could be to an illegitimate child. And Cilla was doing nothing to discourage him; quite the opposite. Harmony suspected that Cilla was excited for the child to come. Which was mad, of course.

Cilla was such a puzzle to her. A few months ago, she would have wanted Harmony and the child - her husband's bastard - to disappear. Now, she cooed over Harmony's stomach, chatted nonsense to the baby, and called herself Aunt Cilla of all things. At times, Harmony felt as close to Cilla as she'd once felt to Beth.

At other times, she felt as if there was an ocean between them, and she knew it was because she was trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with the woman. Because Cilla could forgive the horrid thing Richard had done to her. She was most certainly a puzzle. Harmony was glad for the friendship, however. She might very well need a shoulder to cry on - and someone to speak for her - if Beth spurned her.

The cart slowed to a stop and dipped again as the driver jumped down. She barely heard what he said as he took her hand and helped her to the ground, though she did murmur her thanks. Nerves rife through her stomach, she rounded the cart as it began to pull away, and her eyes landed on Beth, who was standing beside a carriage with three women Harmony had never seen before. One was a small woman with brown hair, about Harmony's age. There was a sadness about her. Judging by her clothes - threadbare, worse for wear, dirt splashes up her skirt - she certainly did not come from money. A camp follower, or camp straggler would be a more apt description. The sort of woman Emily Wilkins would have demanded clean her chamber pot. There was an older woman; stout, grey haired, a little older than Mrs. Andrews. And the last was one of the most beautiful women Harmony had ever seen in her life - with lustrous black hair, deep blue eyes, heart shaped face, and a figure other women dreamed to have. And going by the way she held herself, she knew it, too. Her clothes were better kept and more expensive than the first woman's, but the way she wore them made Harmony wonder - was she a whore? Almost certainly. Harmony could recognise the type from a mile away. Had Beth taken these women under her wing?

Had this beautiful, black haired whore replaced Harmony as Beth's dearest friend? She wondered if she should just leave now; like Miss Cordell, she should not have come. Miss Cordell's worries became her own - what if Beth started yelling at her? Or worse yet, would she give her the cut direct? What if, when she saw Harmony, she simply turned her back and snubbed her? Heartbreaking, and humiliating. Harmony stood stock still and unsure as she stared at the group, at Beth, and at the black haired woman that might have become her replacement.

But after a few moments hesitation, she steeled her spine - her doubts did not vanish but she had to confront this head on. If Beth wanted nothing more to do with her, she would deal with that, but she needed to know.

Beth was still speaking with the other women but her eyes flicked to Harmony, away, then back again as she did a double take. Here it came. The anger. The snub. Only it didn't. Beth's startled expression shifted to one of longing and regret; she nudged her way through the women as if they were no longer important. Relieved and smiling, Harmony walked forward to meet her halfway. Beth, weeping by they time they came together, threw her arms around Harmony's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry. Oh, Harm, I'm truly sorry. I was awful, how can you ever forgive me?"

Miss Cordell was wrong. Thank the Lord Above.

"Here I was thinking you wouldn't forgive me," Harmony murmured. The embrace was awkward with Harmony's pregnancy - and with Beth's - God, she was with child? - But they clung to each other as best they could. "All those letters I wrote and you never wrote me back, not even once -"

"Because he was holding back my letters," Beth said, drawing back slightly. She wiped her eyes with her hand and stared at Harmony as if trying to soak in the sight of her. Harmony did the same, until they both giggled, giddy as two little girls. "Oh, I missed you. So very much."

"And I you, every single day," Harmony hugged her again and then they stood back from one another, the fingers of both hands clasped together. "You're pregnant," Harmony said, sober and grave.

"I am," Beth matched her tone, both knew this was going to cause problems with Tavington.

"So. He was withholding my letters, was he?" Harmony asked, wiping her own wet face.

"Bastard. He was a complete and utter bastard. I wish I'd never gone with him. Mind you, I don't regret leaving. I just wish I'd never gone with him," Beth spat and Harmony drew a sharp breath of surprise. If that was how Beth felt, there wouldn't be much of a reconciliation with Tavington, would there? Why had she bothered to come back at all, if she did not regret leaving?

"He didn't hurt you, did he? Did he hit you?" Harmony asked, wondering why Beth was finished with Tarleton.

"No. He came close to it, once. But he has slightly more control of his temper than… well, anyway. He didn't hit me. And I left him shortly after. I wanted to try to get to Gullah, where my aunt's were meant to be. Hopefully I'll be back with my father before long."

"You're not staying?" Another surprise, another blow. How could Beth and William possibly mend the rift between them, if she hadn't come back to stay?

"I don't know yet, that's up to him. I'm here because my father made me come. But he did say that if William wants to send me away, I can go and live with him."

"How did your father tell you any of this? Did you visit him at Winnsboro?"

"No. My father isn't there anymore," Beth whispered, she was beginning to look rather pale. "He escaped, Harmony."

"Jesus," Harmony said under her breath. "How in the world -"

"So much has happened since I… left. I've so much to tell you -"

"I think you do. And I you," Harmony said.

"And we will, I promise. We'll talk. But Cilla needs me just now. I just wanted to speak to you, to make sure all is well with us. And to ask that you look after the women," she said with a sheepish nod at the three who were still waiting by the carriage. Harmony spared them a glance.

"Who are they? Where are they from? What do you want me to do with them and why does Cilla need you?"

"They are Mrs. Garland, Nancy and Electa. They came with me from his camp, and after helping me, they can't ever go back. Mrs. Garland is my midwife and Nancy is my maid and Electa is… Well, I don't exactly know what Electa is, but she's with me also. I thought you could find them a place to eat while I tend to Cilla. As for Cilla…" Beth's voice caught, she closed her eyes, lifted her head and drew a long breath. She opened her eyes and Harmony was startled to see they were glistening with tears again. "I bought with me some heavy news, her mother passed away in childbed."

"Oh," Harmony grunted, shocked.

"I know. I can still scarcely believe it myself."

"Was she ill?"

"In a way. I doubt she was living well in Gullah, and by the end of her term, I don't think she was very strong. When her labour began, she did not have much to give and from what I'm told, it was a particularly difficult birth. She lost too much blood and was so weak she just… Passed away. To save her son, they had to cut him out, or he would have perished also."

"Good God," Harmony breathed.

"I'd hoped to tell Cilla in private in a tent or… But the only private place here is my carriage. She's in there now, I have to get back to her, but I needed to reassure the women that we'll be able to find a place for them as soon as you got here. Can I introduce you to them? I really do need to get back to Cilla. We'll talk later properly, I promise. But for now, can I put the women in your care?"

"Of course," Harmony murmured as Beth - still holding her hand - pulled her along to the carriage, where the women watched her approach. Beth had started making the introductions, when the carriage door opened with a bang and Cilla, having heard Harmony's voice, clumsily climbed out.

"Harm, oh Gods, Harm, my mother… My mother is…"

"I know," Harmony pulled Cilla into her arms, wrapping the smaller woman into her embrace. Cilla collapsed against her, sobbing. Harmony met Beth's stunned eyes over Cilla's head. "For this, I think she might need both of us," she said to Beth, whose lips were parted in astonishment. Cilla was clinging to her, weeping uncontrollably and although she despised Mage Putman, Harmony was determined to be there for Cilla. Beth had been away for so long, she had no idea the two women had grown close. Though Harmony did not mind running errands for Beth, now was not the time for her to be getting these new women settled in, they would have to fend for themselves. Mrs. Garland looked capable enough. "Colonel Tavington has placed Mrs. Andrews in charge of all camp followers," Harmony said to Mrs. Garland now, while wondering what Beth would think of her position being usurped by Mrs. Andrews. Then again, if she didn't intend to stay long, perhaps it didn't matter. "Any soldier or Officer here can direct you. Tell Mrs. Andrews I sent you, tell her I asked that she see you fed and to find a place for you on one of the wagons until Mrs. Tavington sends for you. Otherwise, I can take you later, but you'll have to wait -"

"Those are simple enough instructions, Mrs. Farshaw," Mrs. Garland said. "You could be here for some time yet, so we'll take ourselves out of your hair. Mrs. Andrews, you said?"

Harmony nodded and began steering Cilla back toward the privacy of the carriage. As she helped Cilla back into the coach, she heard Beth speaking with the women.

"Thank you. Mrs. Andrews will look after you - please tell her… Tell her I need to speak with her. And Miss Cordell, if she's still here?"

"She is," Harmony replied over her shoulder.

"I have apologies to make, to both of them," Beth admitted to Harmony before turning back to Mrs. Garland. "This will only be temporary. Tonight, when we make camp, I'll have you bought back closer to me. I just don't know when that will be. Or where, for that matter."

"It's my job to do the worrying, Mrs. Tavington, not yours," Mrs. Garland said.

Harmony heard nothing more, for she was sitting on the seat beside Cilla, holding her as she wept on her shoulder. As soon as Beth climbed in, Harmony shifted places. It was only right that Beth - who had been so sorely missed - sit beside her cousin. They were blood after all, and they were both grieving a lost loved one.

Heavy news indeed. Now, sitting across from Cilla and Beth, Harmony wondered what she would do, when her mother died? It would be heart wrenching. It had been hard enough bidding her farewell last week. The carriage began to move again, slowly but surely, its driver keeping pace with the slowly plodding Legion.

"I thought I'd see her again," Cilla gasped out between sobs. All Harmony could do was hold Cilla's hand while Beth rubbed her back. "I never thought, for one moment, that I'd never see her again!" Cilla was overcome with weeping as she struggled to speak.

Harmony had despised Mage. With every ounce of her being. Mage had looked down on her, had bedded Richard… While the manner of her death had been gruesome and not something she would wish on anyone, Harmony could not find it within her to grieve for the woman herself. But her friend was heartbroken and wretched and for Cilla, Harmony felt an ocean of sorrow. Harmony despised Mage, but Cilla's mother was dead.

"I'm so sorry," Harmony said softly. "I'm so terribly sorry, Cilla." Beth was nodding. Harmony supposed, as Mage had been her aunt, it was no surprise that Beth was grieving also. Childbirth truly was an awful, dreadful way to die. All three of them were pregnant, any one of them might face what Cilla's mother had. A body too tired to go on, loss of blood draining life away, a stomach sliced open to free a life from a dead womb, lest the boy suffer the same fate. To avoid a double tragedy, the midwives had done the unthinkable. And the same could happen to any one of them.

"M-my family is broken," Cilla said brokenly. "We'll n-never be whole again!" There was nothing Harmony, or Beth, could say. Both women remained silent, as Cilla continued. "I wish… G-gods, I wish I c-could have seen her… J-just one l-last time. T-to tell her I loved her. That it wasn't her fault. That I'm happy now, that I forgive him, that I'm with child again. She's not ever going to see her first born grandchild!" Cilla wailed, choking off, overcome with grief. Harmony saw it when Beth, who was wiping her own cheeks, shot a frown at Cilla.

"Forgive who?" Beth asked.

"I'm sure she knew," Harmony said, cutting in quickly before Beth's question could be explored. Harmony would never understand Cilla fully, she could not understand how Cilla could ever forgive Richard for what he'd done to her. But she had and she'd made it clear that it was not to be spoken about. What Richard had done to her was not news. It was not gossip. It was not something to be discussed over tea, as one would discuss the weather. The few who knew were already too many, so Cilla said. Cilla had been furious to learn that Richard had confessed to Harmony, for in doing so, Harmony was another person who knew. Another person who would judge Cilla's husband. Another person to despise him for something Cilla had long since forgiven him for. Harmony would never understand Cilla, but she did respect her wishes. "That you loved her. She knew that, Cilla."

"It's not the same," Cilla gasped out. "It's not the same."

"I know," Harmony gave Cilla's fingers a squeeze. As Cilla continued to weep and lament, Harmony kept her face carefully composed, showing only sympathy, giving away none of her thoughts. Quite a difficult feat, considering where her mind was taking her.

Down the path of blood lines and lineage. Harmony was counting back the months from now to Charlestown. To when the child had to have been conceived. At least nine months ago. And nine months ago was when she'd discovered that Richard had been rutting with Mage Putman. Harmony had been working at Mr. Ingles, trying to pay her own way, and in doing so, had left her lover feeling deprived. Harmony's fingers convulsed on Cilla's, but the grieving woman did not notice. Deprived. As if it was her own fault that he'd looked elsewhere. As if he hadn't been able to go more than a few hours without fucking someone. With Harmony making herself unavailable, he'd turned to Mage. And others.

But it was Mage who had died giving birth, nine months later.

Perhaps the child was Mark Putman's, but he had to have sired it before being thrown into prison. Mage's pregnancy would have been long indeed, for Mark to have been the father. Besides. Cilla was twenty-two years old. Mark hadn't sired another child on his wife in all that time, but then Richard comes along and Mage is suddenly, miraculously pregnant? Coincidence? Harmony doubted it.

The certainty that the child was Richard's was growing, and every breath Harmony took was laboured. Richard was virile. The child growing in Cilla's stomach and the one in Harmony's was proof of that. And this was the second he'd gotten on Cilla. Yet Mark and Mage had been married over two decades, with only one child to show for it. What were the odds that this child was Mark's?

Grim. The odds were grim indeed. It was more likely that Mage had gone elsewhere to fall pregnant with Cilla, than for Mark to be the father of this newborn boy. Harmony could barely hear Cilla's weeping now, though she was still distantly aware of it, and she still held Cilla's hand, still wore that expression of sympathy, which hid the trail of her thoughts.

Gods, Mage's child was Cilla's brother. And Cilla's husband's bastard. And Cilla's child's uncle, and its brother. And Harmony's child's brother. Harmony shut her eyes, her mind whirling, stomach nauseous. When she was a little girl, she had at times found it diverting to spin in a circle. She would hold her arms out from her body and start spinning slowly, getting faster and faster with each rotation until she was a blur of moment. And then she would stop suddenly and try to keep her balance while her mind continued to spin. The feeling had been unpleasant, she wasn't never sure afterward why she did it at all.

She felt much the same now.

An urgent voice came from outside and the carriage stopped, the door opened, and there was Richard, filling the opening. Harmony tensed, her expression hardening. Richard shot her a quick look, he knew better than to speak to her by now. He barely acknowledged Beth, even as he reached a hand toward Cilla.

"Cilla, what's happened?" He asked, sounding worried and tense. Someone must have reported seeing Cilla weeping outside the carriage. Seeing her husband, she began sobbing wretchedly; her hand snapped back from Harmony's comforting grasp and she lurched to her feet, stooping beneath the carriage roof as she threw herself into her husband's arms. "My… My moth… mother…" Cilla stuttered, barely able to get the words out. He was holding her close, his hands rubbing her back as he looked to Beth and Harmony.

Harmony looked away from the pair. First was a welling of jealousy, her lover was holding another woman. Then came the feeling of being abandoned, by that very same woman. She and Beth had been comforting Cilla well enough, or so she'd thought. Yet as soon as Richard appears, she leaps up and rushes into his arms? The man who'd hurt her so incredibly. Yet, his comfort was more preferable to Cilla than Beth and Harmony's combined. She couldn't help but feel hurt, and somewhat confused.

"Her mother what?" Richard asked her.

"She died, Richard, in childbed," Harmony got in before Beth, unable to speak without spite. "It seems she fell pregnant back in Charlestown, and it killed her." She said in such a way, letting him know without saying it, that the child was likely his. Richard's mouth fell open, blue eyes gaping at her. She lifted her lip in a sneer and jerked her gaze away again. From the corner of her eye she saw Richard half carry his sobbing wife away, and someone outside closed the carriage door. Harmony sniffed, arms folded over her chest, she stared out the window on the other side.

"What in the world…?" Beth asked, sounding bewildered. "Why would Cilla go off with Richard like that? She despises him!" Harmony's mind was elsewhere, she did not answer, even when Beth said, "doesn't she despise him?"

Harmony had other matters on her mind. The child was his. It had to be. After all those years of marriage, Mark Putman hadn't sired another child on his wife. Yet along comes Richard and nine months later Mage gives birth to her second child? The likelihood of it being Mark's was slim, at best. It made her wonder if Cilla was even Mark's at all. She kept the snide thoughts to herself but she couldn't help but wonder - had Mage had a fling previously, because her husband couldn't do the job? Might be the reason why Mage started fucking Richard in the first place. To give her another child.

"Harm, what the devil is going on?" - The sudden and abrupt question damned near made Harmony jump out of her skin, she'd completely forgotten Beth was there. She unfolded her arms and shifted her gaze slowly back. - "The way you looked at Richard just now. The way you spoke to him… You should have seen your eyes, Harm. They were daggers. Yet Cilla falls into his arms like a woman in love. It was the other way around, before I left. It was Cilla who despised him and you were his everything -"

"Much has changed since you left," Harmony said, voice tight. "It is over between Richard and I. It has been for some time now."

Beth gave her a searching look, as if not quite certain she could believe it. Harmony held the gaze steadily, letting the truth of her statement shine through. She'd been with Richard for so long, they'd hid their affair several times, when the need arose. But not to Beth. She'd never hid it from Beth. She'd never had to. She saw the change come over Beth's face, sadness replacing doubt.

"I'm sorry," Beth said softly, reaching across the distance to take hold of Harmony's hand. "What happened?"

"My eyes were opened," Harmony said, sorrow and disgust flaring as she averted her gaze from Beth's. And she'd felt jealousy at seeing him holding Cilla? The disgust was as much for herself as it was for Richard. Beth gave her fingers a squeeze, but didn't press her for more. Perhaps she thought Harmony would talk about it when she was ready. But no matter how much she wanted to unburden herself, Cilla had asked her to keep those secrets close.

"You know, don't you?" Beth asked.

Harmony felt as though she were moving through molasses as she shifted her gaze back to Beth, suddenly wary. Did Beth know? Had Mage told Mark? Did Mark know? Had he told Beth's family? Was Harmony trying to keep secrets that everyone already knew?

"Know what?" Harmony asked, playing the innocent for now. If Beth knew already, Harmony would unburden herself fully to her friend and Cilla could not fault her for it.

"The way you spoke to Richard just now. The way you said childbed. And all the rest, making sure he knew she was pregnant since Charlestown. You said it with accusation. You know the child is Richard's."

"You know the child is Richard's?" Harmony asked incredulously.

"We assume," Beth replied as she pulled the blanket up beneath her chin, giving a shudder against the cold. The carriage was moving again, a gentle sway at times, jolting as it hit rough road at others. "My brothers are fairly certain. They told me they'd heard gossip that Richard had an affair with aunt Mage, gossip that Nicholas Watson said was true. The child, he is not blonde like uncle Mark and Cilla."

"He isn't?" Harmony breathed, her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest.

"His hair is darker," Beth said. She lowered her eyes and added softly, almost reluctantly, "redder."

"I fucking knew it," Harmony spat, angry enough to curse and not even care who heard her. "And what does Putman think of his wife dying to give him a bastard?"

"He doesn't know," Beth said gravely. "He attributed the redness of the boy's hair to some recent ancestor. I'm not sure what he'd do, if he knew. My uncle's not right anymore. In the head, I mean. He's become a madman, he despises Richard and William so much he murdered twenty Dragoons and he was going to lure Richard and William into a trap that would have meant their death."

Because of Cilla's rape. Harmony knew it must be so. She expelled air slowly, her anger ebbing as nerves began to writhe in her stomach as she pictured Richard's rent and broken body lying in a pool of blood.

"It was because they tortured him," Beth explained. Harmony grew tense; she knew why Cilla's father must hate Richard and it had nothing to do with the torture he'd suffered at Richard's hands. Well, perhaps that was some of it, but it was what Richard had done to Cilla that caused Mark Putman's hatred. But Harmony was not permitted to speak of that. "If he knew that Richard - on top of torturing him - had messed about with Aunt Mage; that the child was almost certainly Richard's and not his…" Beth shuddered, her voice grew quiet and solemn. "I don't like to imagine what uncle Mark would do to the baby."

"I… I wouldn't wish harm to come to the boy," Harmony said, picturing a helpless infant in the clutches of a hate filled madman.

"Let us hope my uncle never guesses, then. I don't like to deceive him but his madness is such that he might dash that babies poor little brains out."

"Oh God, don't say that," Harmony placed both her hands over her stomach protectively. "This child is Richard's as well."

"Don't worry. You're protected here, my uncle can't hurt your baby, even if he was inclined to. I'm not even sure he'd hurt Mage's child - but it's possible. It's different though, she was his wife and he will now be raising the baby on his own. So I don't know what he'd do, if he knew. But I doubt he has plans to harm your child."

Harmony, who wasn't so sure, was pleased now that her father and brother had enlisted to the Legion. She had them to protect her. And William. And Richard, she thought reluctantly. The chance of Mark being able to reach her or her baby, if he was inclined, was small indeed.

"Then again," Beth said, looking worried as she pondered. "Farshaw is with him."

"What?" Harmony burst out. "Calvin is still with him?"

"He is and he was part of the plot to lure Richard and William into that trap. It was because of him, that it might have worked," Beth said. Harmony listened with growing horror and no little terror as Beth explained what Calvin and Putman had intended to do. They'd had it all planned out, down to stealing what was needed to make William believe he was acting under O'Hara's orders. William and Richard would have been lured to their deaths. And Harmony…

"Did he say anything about me? About what he intended to do with me? You only think there is a possibility that your uncle might harm or kill the baby if he found out Richard was the father. Well, I know for damned sure that Calvin would kill mine. He'd do it, there's not a doubt in my soul. My baby - how can I protect my baby -"

"Harmony," Beth's fingers closed over hers. "It won't work. It can't work. Not now. They don't have the seal and cipher anymore; they can not be used against anyone, not now. And Farshaw would not dare try to enter this camp; he'd be seized at the first picket, no matter what orders he was carrying. Besides, you have an entire army around you, Harmony. Farshaw can not hurt you."

Harmony nodded, but her heart continued to pound and her stomach was liquid. She would have to tell her father and Hamish about this, they needed to know that Calvin was still a threat. Even if he could never reach her, just knowing that he might be considering it left her feeling nauseous. Beth was still speaking, her story unfolding, Harmony had to concentrate to take it all in, her fear had her so deeply in its grip. At first, she had to. But as Beth continued, Harmony began to be drawn in, the fear began to ebb and she was soon engrossed. Initially Beth spoke about the more immediate; what her brother needed the seal and cipher for, and her father's escape, or rescue, from Winnsboro. Her recent reunion with Burwell and then with her father and brothers. Then she went further back, telling Harmony everything that had happened since she'd gone away with Tarleton, to Tarleton keeping back her letters and her money, and finally blaming her for his defeat at the Cowpens.

By the time Beth was finished, Harmony was not surprised at all that Beth had left him.

"He nearly killed Shadow Dancer," Beth said and Harmony could hear the grief and anger in her voice. "He took her without telling me, into the thick of battle. He risked her, almost killed her, for the soul purpose of taunting Harry Burwell. Gods, I hate him now. I've never hated anyone, not truly. But I hate Banastre. General Burwell saw her fall, though, and when Banastre's forces retreated and the field was empty save for the dead, he went out to check on her for himself. And she was alive, Harm. Thank the Lord Above, she was alive. Barely. One of his groomsmen had miraculous skill with horses, he nursed her back to health. I was with Harry for a few days, when he gave her back to me. He didn't tell me at first, because it was touch and go and he didn't want to give me false hope. Only when his groomsman was certain she would survive, did he present her to me." Beth continued to unburden herself as she told Harmony of the fall out between Harry Burwell and Benjamin Martin. There was so much more to tell, but Beth did a damned good job of summing up nearly three months in the space of perhaps an hour. Harmony glanced out the window. One hour, and the Legion had travelled perhaps a quarter of a mile. If that. Such slow going, Harmony wondered what was the point of moving at all. Might as well stop and make camp until winter was over.

"My father gave me his ultimatum," Beth shrugged. "And so here I am."

"Oh, Beth," Harmony heaved a sigh. "Honestly, did you really think you'd be allowed to go to your aunts? That everyone would just let you stay there?"

"Yes, I did. And why not? I've been in Banastre's bed for months now, William doesn't want me back anymore than I want to be here."

Oh, yes. The beating. That was the reason Beth hadn't wanted to return, because William had taken his belt to her. And yes, Beth knew that her father had captured William, that he and her brothers had taken a turn whipping him, for that belting. He would never take his hand to her again, for fear of further reprisal. But he never should have, in the first place. That was what Beth said and Harmony did not disagree. Still…

"You've done each other great harm, Beth," Harmony said. "I'm not going to pretend that this will be an easy road, but surely you can both try to work towards forgiveness?"

"On bended knee, he said. He wouldn't take me back if I begged on bended knee. And I told him I'd never, ever beg. I meant it, too. No, Harm. I'm here because my father has forced me to come, but I am under no illusion that William and I will have some happy, wonderful marriage where everything is stupendous and as a marriage should be. That's what we'll show to the world, if we can stomach it, but it'll never be that. Not for either of us. Frankly, I'm hoping he will take my father up on his offer," Beth stared out the window, her brown eyes shining with tears. "I'd love to see Mary again."

Harmony studied her friend in silence. Was Beth serious? Or was she bluffing? Maybe she thought she meant it, maybe she was stealing herself against what she thought was already preordained. That William would send her away. But surely when they saw one another again, they would remember how much they loved each other?

Sure they will, Harmony scoffed to herself, feeling very much a fool. Just like you and Richard. She thought scathingly. Just spend some time apart and voila! You remember how much you loved each other and just like that, all is forgiven! The circumstances were somewhat different, William and Beth had hurt one another equally, there was forgiving and reparation to be done on both sides. But Richard had done all of the hurting all on his own, Harmony had never done a damned thing to cause him pain.

So maybe it was possible for Beth and William, after all. Maybe, after one look, they would remember their love for each other, recall how much they'd longed for one another, and they would decide to put the past behind them.

"We'll see," Harmony said, not sure if she believed it or not. "The two of you might change your mind when you're together again."

"Change his mind?" Beth asked, spinning back from the window so fast she was a blur. "What do you mean, 'change his mind'? Has he spoken to you about it? Would he rather I was not here? Is that what you mean, is that what he might change his mind about?"

Harmony arched her eyebrows. So much for Beth not caring one way or the other. "I'll be brutally honest with you, Beth; at first, he didn't want you back."

"Oh," Beth breathed, her face twisting with pain. She lowered her head, Harmony saw a tear land on her glove as she whispered, "and now?"

"Wait, let's just… let's start from the beginning, shall we? When you left. He was devastated, Beth. And furious. Gods, he was like a tempest, for so damned long. But…" Then I found out that Richard had forced himself on Cilla, with William's knowledge, and I let him know in no uncertain terms, what a two faced, deceitful, self serving hypocrite he was. Harmony heaved a frustrated breath, knowing she could not say any of this. "I became angry with him one day and I pointed out his own many short comings. It was not easy for him to hear it, you know how proud he can be. But after a while, after several of these… let's call them conversations…" Harmony said with a snort, recalling the times she'd shouted at him and hurled obscenities, for all he'd done to Cilla, and to Beth, frustrated that he could still consider himself to be the one wronged. "He began to see things my way. And then one day Cilla spoke with him -"

"Cilla! She never went near him when I was at Fresh Water, not if she could help it."

"She still doesn't, not really. She tolerates him and he is making an effort - which is more than he ever did at Fresh Water," and it was a damned good thing for him that he was, and it was proof that Harmony's constant haranguing had achieved the desired effect. Or maybe it was Cilla's confronting speech, that had forced him to acknowledge the darkness lurking in his soul.

"But Cilla spoke on my behalf? What did she say to him?"

Harmony remembered every word, as if the conversation had taken place a few hours ago. The speech had struck such a chord within her, she'd been deeply moved and in awe of Cilla's strength and her ability to restrain such raw, wild fury. She'd forgiven Richard, but she'd never forgive Tavington.

"So she ran off with Tarleton." Cilla's words rang in Harmony's ears as they had several weeks ago. She recalled Cilla, no taller than Beth, both short of stature but strong of heart, standing before the towering Tavington. Somehow, Cilla had managed to make William seem the smaller. "Committed adultery. I can't say that I blame her. Everything that she has done, her every wrong action, has been preordained from the first moment you set her feet on this dark path. All of it is a direct consequence of all the ills you visited upon her. You sit there on your high horse, as if you have every right to embrace the injury she has done you, using her infidelity as an excuse to your righteousness. But you are not righteous, Tavington. Far from it. You are not honourable. Noble. Or pure. You are a vulgar monster; you tortured my father, and you let Richard force himself on me. You allowed it to happen."

Harmony had seen Tavington's jaw working, his pale gaze had been narrowed and his teeth seemed to be clenched. Harmony had almost wished, at the time, that she hadn't gone to Cilla at all. But she'd felt as though she was getting no where, with her continual speeches, her repeated attempts, trying to make William see that he truly was no better. He'd done so much harm; to Beth, to others. Yet when Beth has the audacity to harm him, he wallows in his heartache and her treachery? Like an injured lamb, the abused innocent. She'd been trying to make him see it for months and, feeling as though she was failing, that she was not getting through to him, she turned in desperation to Cilla. Cilla had listened to Harmony gravely, nodding in agreement with Harmony's concerns. Then she'd risen from her seat, her spine straight and her face set, as she walked right up to Tavington, and calmly demanded a word. Harmony had seen the look on Tavington's face, he'd been taken aback, had inclined his head and gestured to his tent, but Harmony recalled the wariness in him. Not knowing if she was supposed to follow, Harmony had been unable to do anything but. Like hell was she going to be on the outside of this particular conversation. When she entered the tent behind them, neither William nor Cilla sent her away, so she sat calmly in the tents only chair. And she quickly became horrified, awe struck and stupefied all at once, as Cilla finally confronted Tavington for his part in what had been done to her.

"Tell me, when Richard presided over your wedding, when he asked if either of you had anything to reveal, that might prevent you from marriage, did you reveal that?" Cilla had curled her lip. "That is most certainly something you have admitted that would have stopped the wedding from taking place. But of course you didn't, you wanted Beth to marry you. So you didn't say a word. Just as she wanted to marry you, so she didn't reveal that she was no longer a virgin. You both withheld your secrets so the wedding could take place but frankly, not telling you that she'd lost her virginity to another man before marrying you is far cry less of a crime than you allowing Richard to do what he did to me. Even adding the months she has spent in Tarleton's bed is still less of a sin, than the part you played in the torture done me that day. I dare you to disagree. I dare you." Even speaking softly, Cilla had been so fierce that day. And Tavington hadn't dared. He'd been rendered speechless, shame that had stolen his tongue. When he could not answer, Cilla struck the sword deeper. "You judge my cousin? You?" She'd scoffed softly. Derisive. Contemptuous; her narrowed eyes taking him in from head to toe, her lip curved upward in a sneer. "That's like the devil, who glorifies in nothing but sin, judging a starving beggar for stealing a loaf of bread. How can someone like you judge anyone? 'He whose house is made of glass, should not throw stones.' Particularly apt for you, I think." Cilla had held his gaze, her look dripping contempt, and then - as if there was absolutely nothing else that needed to be added to the discussion - she'd turned on her heel and strode for the tent flap, indignation and disgust in her every stiff stride, in every line of her body.

For the longest time, Harmony had sat there, staring blindly at nothing, stunned to her core. Dumbfounded. At length she'd shifted her gaze to William, who was staring at the tent flap with the same expression of disbelief Harmony had to have been wearing. Only his was mingled with shame and guilt, Harmony knew him well enough by now to recognise both etched across his face. He'd looked at her, and Harmony had wished she hadn't followed Cilla, hadn't seen and heard what she had. She'd felt embarrassed to witness Tavington's humiliation, no matter how he'd had it coming. She'd also felt so very proud of Cilla; the true lamb in all of this had finally stood up to the wolf. William had marched out without a word, and in all the weeks since Cilla's confrontation, Harmony hadn't heard him once denounce Beth for what she'd done, not in Harmony's hearing.

"I don't know what was said for sure," Harmony said, ignoring the guilt as she lied to her friend. She was following Cilla's wishes, this was Cilla's secret to tell or to keep, as she saw fit. "I think she pointed out William's short comings, reminding him he'd done as much to harm you as you have to him, that he set you on this path in the first place. Mrs. Tisdale has likely given birth by now and Linda is about to. That's two bastards on the way or already here. Cilla pointed out that he's hardly in a position to judge, when his own actions are wanting." That was true enough, though Cilla hadn't mentioned Tavington's bastards.

"I'll have to ask Cilla what she said, and thank her. And thank you, too," Beth smiled weakly. "Thank you for speaking for me. I don't know what good any of it will do when I can't stop thinking about him holding me down and thrashing me like that. It was humiliating and painful and so damned frustrating because I couldn't hit him back. I'm not any better disposed to him than he is to me, but if what you and Cilla said means he won't be lording it over me, perhaps we can find some common ground at least. So. Linda is still here?" Beth asked, lifting her chin.

"Until she gives birth," Harmony paused, reluctant, but Beth had to be told. She ploughed on quickly, "when it is born, Linda will be flogged for deliberately setting you and William up -"

"Flogged?" Beth murmured.

"And sent away with her husband," Harmony confirmed. "Who is to be transferred out of the Legion. The child, however, will stay with William."

Beth dropped her gaze to her hands, where her fingers fidgeted in her lap. "He is going to raise the child?"

"I'm afraid so. He wants me to nurse it."

"And you agreed?"

"The child is as innocent as Mage's son. I won't let it starve, Beth."

"Of course not," Beth drew a shuddering breath. It couldn't be easy for her, to learn that her husband would be raising his bastard in his household, a thing Beth - newly returned from her dalliance with another man - would be expected to accept.

"And your child," Harmony began delicately. "You're certain it's William's?"

"Yes. I have perhaps two months before I give birth. I was pregnant before I left. Mrs. Garland thinks the reason I reacted so harshly and violently was because I was with child," Beth replied. She was repeating herself, she had told this to Harmony already.

"He might not believe you, you know," Harmony advised carefully.

"I know. My father didn't believe it either, he thought I was using my pregnancy as an excuse to justify my actions. I wasn't, by the way - I take full responsibility for my behaviour but I do believe that was the catalyst. I was awful that day, to William - though I don't regret that overly much after he belted me. But to Mrs. Andrews. Miss Cordell." She lifted her eyes. "To you."

Harmony reached out and covered her hands over Beth's. "I had a part to play in that. I should have told you that Linda was there, even though he wasn't seeing her that way anymore. I should have been honest -"

"I should have listened to you, when you tried to explain. I should have listened to all of you - even William. Instead I became a madwoman and left with Banastre. I've bought shame to my family, to myself. When I was with Banastre… I acted like a bawdy woman. I barely knew myself. Not until my final weeks with him, when I started to wonder what the devil I was doing. There was this book… a peddler sold it to Nancy for me; she didn't know what it was. When I started reading it… Well, Banastre had already read it and he was overcome with excitement that I… Well, it's not your ordinary novel, you see. It's… coarse. Filled with descriptions of… coupling." - Harmony's eyebrows began to climb her forehead. - "I really must be rid of it for once and for all. Anyway, I would read from it while he and I…"

"Beth!" Harmony gasped, laughter bubbling up despite herself.

"It's not funny," Beth said, voice begging. "I should never have indulged in it, I certainly should not have enjoyed it. But I did, every moment, which in itself is an indication of how far I've fallen. I should have been insulted when the peddler suggested that book for me. Well, I was insulted, but I should have burnt it and had him chased away from camp. Instead, I read from it faithfully whenever Banastre asked and I became so debauched with him, doing with him the things that were described in the book. I just… if I'd listened to you. Back at Fresh Water. To William. I might not have left as I had. There would still have been trouble between us because of not telling him I was not a virgin, but at least I wouldn't have become as debauched as a whore with Banastre. I wouldn't have done so much injury to my family. My father has to try to cover everything up - again! And he won't be able to this time, not fully. What sort of daughter am I? I'm like a tornado sweeping through the forest and he has to tidy up the paths of destruction I leave in my wake," she choked out, sobbing as the words poured from her like water from an upturned bottle. "My sisters and brothers, their futures are at stake, they have to live with the mess I've left behind me. But still, he covers for me. I have vowed, no more. If William keeps me with him, I'll be the perfect wife, which hopefully will make the inevitable rumours that are sure to circulate about me that much harder to believe. And if he sends me away, I will go and live with my father and I'll live quietly and without excitement, I won't let any man court me, ever again. Papa thinks I'll marry again someday but I honestly don't care for it. I'd rather just live quietly, with my child, and with my father looking out for me. That's all I want now. It truly is -"

"Shh, don't cry," Harmony crooned, moving to the seat Cilla had vacated and pulling Beth into her arms. "Shh. It's alright. Everything will be alright." She was lying, they both knew it, but it seemed to have the desired affect. Beth's weeping began to quiet. "I'm sorry for laughing just now," Harmony said, kissing Beth's cheek.

"I'm sorry. For everything."

"I know. Me too," Harmony heaved a sigh and guided Beth's head down to rest on her shoulder. They sat there in silence, moving slightly to the sway of the carriage, Harmony's arm around Beth's shoulders. As the quiet deepened, she worried that with Beth's story told, she might soon be asked to tell her own. But anything she said might skirt too closely to things Cilla wanted to be kept secret. She might unintentionally reveal things she had promised not to, things that needed to come from Cilla's own lips, if ever she was inclined to. She wondered how she could explain her parting from Richard without going into details, to Beth who she had always confided all.

"I'm so tired," Beth whispered, sounding groggy. Harmony felt a thrill of hope, perhaps her friend was too tired to hear Harmony's story.

"Then sleep," Harmony said, shifting the blanket around them until it covered them both.

"I am dreading seeing him, Harmony," Beth said. It sounded like a confession.

"Do you still love him?"

"So damned much," her voice broke. "I never could get rid of it. Like thorned vines, rooting deep, digging in, slicing into me. I thought I'd die of it."

Harmony heaved a sigh, her response dying on her tongue. 'Well there you go,' is what she'd been about to say. 'You still love him and I know he still loves you. It might be difficult at first but you'll get past your troubles in no time.' But that was the flippant response. Besides, the way Beth had described it, her love sounded like a death sentence. Harmony knew by now, by her own experience, that love most certainly did not conquer all. "Well, it has to happen sometime," Harmony said instead. "And if it is to be unpleasant, then it's best to get it over with. Face it head on. And then, the only thing you'll be able to do is to take each day as it comes. I'll be here and so will Cilla. You'll have to face him sometime and yes, that will be hard. But you won't be alone, Beth."

"No, I won't, and I can't tell you how grateful I am to have you. I'd thought for certain that I'd lost you."

"Because we quarrelled?" Harmony cocked her head and smiled. "Did no one ever tell you? Disagreements like that make the friendships stronger. The good ones, anyway," she said, thinking of Linda. Their friendship had never recovered from their big argument, and it likely never would.

"I'm glad ours is one of those. I hope it is," Beth said uncertainly.

"It is," Harmony began stroking Beth's hair, almost feeling the other woman's exhaustion. "Close your eyes for a bit, you might get some sleep before he comes. It'll be better for you if you're rested a bit before you have to face him." She could feel Beth's nod against her shoulder. Eventually she could hear soft snores, as Beth's body relaxed against hers. Harmony placed a pillow against the side of the carriage and rested her head.

The first she became aware that she'd fallen asleep was when the carriage came to a stop. Her eyelids fluttered open, awareness returning to her with the sound of William's voice. She jerked her head away from the pillow, a thrill of unease flaring inside her. "Beth," she whispered, "wake up. He's here."

"Mmm?" Beth murmured, not waking entirely.

"He's here. William. Wake up," Harmony urged, tapping Beth's sleepy face with gentle fingers. The carriage door was opened by the driver and there was William, stern faced and jaw set, intense gaze fixing on Beth. With a small gasp Beth lifted herself up and away from Harmony, her own dark eyes as large as orbs as she stared back, unblinking. Neither said a word, neither looked away from the other. The tableau seemed frozen in ice. Harmony broke it. "Help me down, will you?" She asked William, sliding the blanket back and holding her hand out to his to be taken. His eyes flickered to hers for an instant. He complied with her request, taking hold of her fingers to guide her down, but his eyes went immediately back to Beth. "Remember what Cilla said," Harmony whispered in his ear and she heard the sharp intake of his breath, before he gave her a curt nod. Perhaps it was a low blow, reminding him of that now; but Harmony wanted Cilla's words ringing in his ears - words that told him in no uncertain terms that he was no better than Beth - before he sat down with her to discuss their future. She wrapped herself in her cape and began to walk away from the carriage, even as William climbed in and closed the door behind him. She longed to stay and listen, she could walk beside the carriage for a bit and in doing so, she would hear every word. And would be destroying their privacy and their trust in her. Stifling her curiosity - surely Beth and William would both tell her the details later from their differing perspectives - she began to pick her away carefully along the road while looking for a wagon she could ride on.

Only a few rods back from Beth's carriage was Cilla's carriage, also stopped. Harmony approached it, thinking that Richard would be gone by now and perhaps Harmony could ride with Cilla, who would not want to be alone just now. When she saw that Richard was still in there, she continued to walk past, quickening her pace. However, the door opened and Richard climbed out, he fixed on her with much the same expression that had been on William's face when he beheld Beth just now. His long legs closed the distance swiftly, his face was thunder.

"Why didn't you send for me? You should have done so as soon as you learned her mother was dead. She is my wife, Harmony. I am her husband. Did it not occur to you that she might need me?"

"No. It did not," Harmony admitted, taken aback. Did he expect an apology? An explanation? He would get neither. "Beth and I had the situation well in hand."

"Well in hand…" Richard shook his head, looking dumbfounded. "Well in hand. Cilla needed only the two of you, did she? I know you despise me, Harmony, but I will not be discounted in this way. By damn, I will not."

"Feeling left out, are you?" Harmony couldn't help but sneer. As far as she was concerned, he had no right to his anger. None. And it was time to let him know why. "Because your wife's mother died and we didn't think to send for you? Your wife's mother, who you fucked," she spat, all the bitterness and fury rising up in her breast. She'd never forgiven him his affairs, in all the months she'd stayed with him afterward. It hurt just as much now as it had when they'd still been together. "You do know that the child is almost certainly yours, don't you?"

"You've made that clear, Harmony, and would you keep your voice down?" He demanded, his eyes darting to see if they had company nearby.

"Can't have your wife hearing about that, now, can you? You never did tell her about Mage, did you?"

"I have bared my soul to Cilla, there is nothing she does not know," he said shortly, his words causing Harmony to stare, dumbfounded. It felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest. Like the ground was tearing open beneath her feet. Like he'd balled his fist and slammed it with all his considerable might into her stomach.

"You never bared your soul to me," she whispered, eyes welling, the sting making her blink several times. Wetness on her cheeks; she dashed at her tears with a quick gesture. "There was plenty I didn't know."

"I was a different man back then," he said, his tone gentling. He reached out a hand to her but she recoiled, and he dropped it uselessly back to his side.

"She changed you when I never could," Harmony said softly, feeling inadequate.

"You are the two halves of me that make me whole. You both changed me, Harm," Richard replied gravely. She shook her head, sunk her teeth into the flesh of her lip. The pain gave her something to concentrate on, helped her to hold back her tears. She heard a loud bang of something slamming behind her and when she turned to look, she saw Tavington striding away from the carriage. She released her stinging lip and stared incredulously at his retreating back. "Harmony," Richard said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"Leave it be," she stepped away from him, turning her back and wiping her eyes. She felt his hand close on her elbow but she shook him off, flinging her arm to evade his grasp as she started walking back to Beth's carriage. She heard the sobs before reaching it. Her own pain was not forgotten, nor was it diminished, even when she stepped inside and saw Beth sprawled across the seat, weeping hysterically into her hands. Beth glanced up, her face was bright red and ravaged with tears.

"The - the b-blanket slipped. He - he took one look… saw m-my stomach… and w-walked out again," Beth wailed.

"Oh, Beth," Harmony sighed. She climbed in, sat down and took her weeping friend in her arms.

"It's his… I swear, it is his…" Beth wept.

"Shh. It's alright," Harmony crooned, adding other such nonsense, her heart heavy for herself and for her friend. William had abandoned Beth without giving her the chance to explain about the baby. And Richard had unburdened himself to Cilla, he'd trusted her with everything; a trust he'd never extended to Harmony, who was his mistress. He'd changed for Cilla, when he never had for her. The difference between a wife and a lover? Perhaps. But it hurt more than Harmony could bear.