A/N: Apologies for the wait, but here's a long chapter :)

Chapter 9: Hypocrisy, Fraud, Tyranny

Fresh windy cool and crispy fall air whistles outside, like someone calling for their horse, on a fine Monday morning for once. The sun was shining bright and white through the windows into Rivington's Corner. With an extra gusto to his step after a romantic night and good sleep, Robert finished his first walk around the tables with the water pitcher. He paused thinking he saw a smudge on the glass pitcher, and yanked a polishing rag from his coat pocket to rub it meticulously. Though he had no forefront thoughts of his wife at the moment, he still hid a content grin beneath a businessman's poker face. It was all the solace needed for his hardworking days.

What was on the front of his mind were the present words of Governor Tryon and Mayor Matthews sitting at the table to his right even if it was idle talk and flirtation from the Mayor towards the young women sitting with them. Every now and then they'd begin to say something about the troops, yet never delve into it due to Governor Tryon making a laugh out of it. Or they didn't want to bore the women with talk of war.

Robert returned to the counter to exchange the water pitcher for a tin one holding ale. He casted another look towards the governor and mayor before the entire coffeehouse went silent after emitting a few disconcerted gasps from the ladies. Robert turned around, out of place much like the rest of the people inside, and silently looked on. In walked a stern Major Andre with a tall gruff man, and behind them a trail of men carrying sacks over their shoulders towards the visible entrance to the basement.

Rivington greeted each of them up until the last man, an officer in red, led the end of the line before the door leading to the news room was shut. After this all talking returned back to normal level, and Robert returned to the table to refill ale.

"A double edition, no doubt," Mayor Matthews remarked. "I wonder what the bloody news is now!" Mayor Matthews smirks in confusion.

Robert withdrew the pitcher from the governor's cup and walked around to the mayor's side. He comments simply, "Mr. Rivington is in the fashion of reporting the news before it happens. Perhaps some great victory is expected soon?"

The governor scoffs, "I've heard of no such thing planned. It's nearly winter, for God's sake!"

The Quaker looked up when the door reopened with Rivington returning to the main floor, pulling the squeaky door closed behind him. As the man walked past the table right next to the door, he discreetly cleared his throat towards Robert as he passed.

With a slim, polite smile to the governor and mayor, Robert joined Rivington behind the counter as he set the pitcher down.

"Robie boy," Rivington voiced genially to him as he casted some cautious looks around the establishment, "round up some drinks I'll take them down to our friends. Nothing too strong, eh?"

Not only Rivington calling the men friends in a suspicious way made Robert feel perturbed, but the sudden amiable nickname didn't sit right with him, at least for now. Only once did Elizabeth call him Robie one morning on her way to church, but he didn't think Rivington overheard them.

Besides that, he knew his partner was setting up for something big, and he knew Rivington was bound to ask him to keep what he just saw hush-hush.

"Of course, ... James." Robert emphasized with a faint smirk and slightly widened eyes. "I do hope that this increase in circulation you appear to be preparing for won't cause a spike in advertising prices."

Rivington casted one more glance over his shoulder before motioning Robert to come around to the other side of the counter, away from view of the dining occupants.

Once they were out of earshot, the newsman grins, "Two of my presses have been drafted into service by the Royal Army."

"Oh?"

Rivington pulls out a single bill, "We're making... Continentals. Those sacks were stuffed with paper taken from the rebel's own supply." When he hands it to Robert, who holds it up to unexpectedly see the finite details of an actual Continental, he touches it with both hands as the man explained. "Philadelphia paper with silk fibers and isinglass for the real look and feel. André plans to flood the rebel states with them!"

Robert murmured gravely, "He'll devalue the currency."

"Yes, bankrupt the bastards!" Rivington chortled, "False Congress notes for a false Congress, eh?" Robert couldn't help the amused smirk upturning his flattened lips. He had to admit, his partner had some good wit sometimes, but the man's wit only rooted so deep; no matter how perceptive the newsman Rivington was, he was unaware to Robert's own wit in this discussion. He kept his opinion to himself with a composed, responsive expression in order to go with the flow of conversation.

A waitress came to set some cups on the counter, causing Rivington to wave Robert out from behind the counter and over to the tall accounting desk. He moved to stand behind this counter while his partner remained in front as if he were paying.

However, when he saw Rivington reach into the sleeve of his fancy silk robe, the Quaker's false smile fell to a deep frown. Robert swallowed hard; his hands clutch the edge of the counter seeing the large stack of dollars Rivington placed on the wooden countertop. Suddenly the single bill he was still holding in his hand felt like it was on fire.

Rivington quietly mumbled, "But for those lucky few who get in on the action early… a fortune can be had. Let it never be said that I don't pay your share in a timely manner, partner." He smiled as he moved the two stacks tied with string towards him. It was enough to live quite a lavish life in the city if the Quaker so pleased. But it's fake currency… fraudulent… meaningless to him already…

Robert shook his head as he quietly, conscientiously exclaimed, "There's little to do with these inside York City."

Rivington rolled his head to the side with a frown with his hands still on the counter, and shrewdly exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm, "Even a boring Quaker such as yourself has a friend or two in the London trade…?"

Robert never expected this forward statement. Being none of his partner's business about his monetary affairs and the fact he was certainly a boring Quaker, he played off of this truth. He only responded with a mildly indignant look.

"Fine, keep the bridle on," Rivington moaned in a slightly bored grumble, and continued speaking in a low voice. "But my advice is spend these soon, at least on your wife, before they're worth less than wallpaper."

"In that case..." Robert dropped the bill in his hand atop the stack before sliding it back to him. He fixed him with a firm, tight businessmen's stare. "I'd like to buy an advertisement."

The sight of her husband rushing back into their room with unbelievable words falling from his mouth rendered her speechless. Elizabeth raised a resting hand to her abdomen, her stays suddenly quite tight.

"He offered you how much?" She asked her husband in disbelief.

After splashing his face with water at the washbowl, Robert merely turned towards her with a single eyebrow raised towards her, knowing she heard correctly. He reached for a towel to dry his face after refreshing himself.

"Not offer, gave," he bit his lower lip as he muttered under his breath something incoherent about fraudulence. "He slid it over to me in a freshly made stack."

"He should know it's already worthless—"

"—Was why he told me to spend it soon. It's not worthless to those who are blind to what's about to happen," Robert's voice flattened. "It has little value as it is but with this much illegally added it'll wreck the economy. But not General Howe's New York, thank the Lord." His dark sarcasm made her uneasy.

Lizzy watched him fall into his desk chair from her place on their settee. He leaned forward with a hunched over back and a hand at his chin. She didn't have to see his facial expression to know his worried and torn heart.

"Valuable to who, darling? There shouldn't be any Patriots here. Maybe there's a way to warn them—"

"No, no, sweetheart," he shook his head as he stood back up to go stand by the window. "The London Trade, privateers—any consumer unabashed to using Continental dollars! It's not my place to interfere, I would be found out and hung for attempting to stop it. I shouldn't even know of this terrible scheme." Lizzy jumped up to go to his side, lifting up her plain skirts to not trip.

She gently squeezed his upper arm and held his gray coat sleeve trying to meet his grave eyes, "Don't fret Robert, it's the beginning still. There's no way those men can perfect those bills in a day or two."

"Major Andre's a very clever man. He recruits the best men for all that he does," Robert whispered with a shake of his head. "He'll have them working through the night."

"Then you'll take care of this quickly before it all comes to pass, I'm sure. Plus the Major knows you just enough and you're on good terms with him." She squeezed his hand. "It was meant for you to know this."

"You have too much faith in me sometimes my dear," Robert finally sighed, tore his narrowed and already tired eyes away from the bustling streets below to look down at her with favor, but he was frowning thoughtfully. She's a beacon of calm light and his foundation of peace on days he forgets who he actually is living for. Serving and living the Lord's will that is.

She tucks a loose curl of hair behind his ear that fell from his spotless queue, softly exhaling, "There's no such thing as too much. Someone has to remind you of your goodness. You're capable of great things."

"Though I'm going against everything I am to be great." His lips closed into a flat line in an endearing pout, the dimple in his chin definite.

Elizabeth frowned as she leaned up to kiss his cheek, "You were great before as well."

"If Rivington stops you and hands you some no matter how much he'll insist, decline it," he warns her as he reached to tug their curtain down half way. Whether it was the glare of the sun or the fear of being caught, it was for his own comfort. "I pushed mine back to him to pay for an advertisement. He won't expect that from you."

The thought immediately crossed her mind, "He will probably tell me to donate it to church…" Robert's eyes widened at this potential atrocity.

He shook his head and placed a hand at her waist, quietly pleading, "Do not give in, I trust you more than anyone. It'll certainly trickle out from there." She nodded.

"Are you going to be alright?" Her concern trickling from her at the moment seeing that Robert is thinking hard and fast.

He nods, stepping back to rest his hands on the back of his spindled chair. "Yes. Yes, I'll be alright. I will try to stay as long as I can down there tonight. Rivington covered the rest of my shift last night, but he is adamant on returning late in the night. I need to listen in on those men somehow, but it'll be quick and discreet."

Elizabeth realized something else, "Of course. I know you're about to head back down there from your break, but you already made the signal the moment you heard of this… how can you do that with little information?"

"Woodhull did say anything was helpful," Robert used the cabbage farmer's name for the first time in a while, it even made Lizzy perk up. "If I find no more scrupulous detail than finding they're going to only devalue the currency sometime soon, then that will be more than enough."

Just when she thought he was calming down; she saw him stop in his tracks eyeing their settee where an officer's red coat is resting, being mended.

"Were you mending that when I walked in?" He questioned rather baffled to see it.

"Yes, the pockets have holes in them," she walked over to it with a groan. "It belongs to a young private who should be sitting down there still."

Robert was still confused. "When did you come down? Just before I returned?" During his asking, he walked over to her and kissed the side of her head. The warmth of their cuddling and embracing returned to the forefront of his mind, and guilt rose in his chest of leaving her side for work instead of laying in as offered.

"You were walking around tables; I couldn't disrupt you. The main reason I came down was to get the mail and some food when he approached me at the counter."

Robert practically huffed, "I don't recall a sign reading seamstress available, anywhere. You don't even look like—" he snapped his eyes back to her person and took in her plain entire with just her white skirts, white sleeved undershirt with half-boned ivory stays. "—wearing that I can see why. You look like a common waitress to him."

Elizabeth shook her head at his flustered face. She crosses her arms as she explains, "This is my plain attire, I didn't want to wear anything expensive today. Besides, he said he'll pay me when I return it. He's just a boy and doesn't know how to mend his own clothes."

As he had a hand at her back parting from their embrace, Robert's scowl towards the red garment was evident. "He better give his thanks…" When he briefly left her side to retrieve a garment from the coat rack, he returned with an old, white knitted shawl and draped it over her shoulders. He made sure it covered her sharp collarbone as he fondly wrapped it, losing his scowl. "…And know whose lady he is talking to."

For once his hand was cold, and her neck was warm when he touched her barely seeable hickey with the back of his hand. Day by day it was now fading more, and ensuring she places ice on it has helped as well.

"I'll make sure he does, I'm just as good as putting the foot down as you are," she smirks thoughtfully. He shook his head with a chuckle, but not returning the smile. Before she could ask him what else was wrong, he mumbled clearly.

"If you're not busy… I wouldn't mind you coming down to help at the bar," he stated before adding with a weighty tone. "It'll help my cover—you already soften the political ambiance. If I see it too questionable and unsafe for you to be present then I'll signal you to leave as we did at the Boarding House."

She nods gently, "Of course. I'll finish this up and be down soon."

(Flashback—the morning after Abe left…)

The Bowery

"Good morning, Mr. Townsend! What a surprise to see you," the owner of Chauncey's greets from behind the counter with a wide smile. "And you brought the Mrs.! Can I help you with anything in particular?"

Once he let Elizabeth step in first, he followed in after, keeping his hat on as Quaker's tend to do. But lately he's been trying to break himself from the learned habit, knowing it is courteous to do so. However, he knew they wouldn't be long in here. They walked to the man down the long aisle, approaching the counter, he began relaying half way there, "My wife's rosary shattered last night. Would it be possible to have it repaired by the time she leaves?"

"Oh," the man exclaimed before Robert took it out. When he unfolded the cloth, Chauncey assessed the broken rosary on the counter top. "This will take much time and patience I'm afraid. I'll have to replace all the old links still attached so it does not break again."

Elizabeth's face creased in understanding, covering her small dismay, "I'm due to leave in two days. If it can't be fixed in time then that's alright. Perhaps next time I'm in the city I'll stop by—"

"No, that won't be necessary Mrs. Townsend. I have other repairs to work on but I can certainly bump this one up for you. Me and one of my other partners can split the work."

"Really?" Robert exclaimed honestly shocked. "That would be incredible."

He turned to Robert with a grin, "However, I can't promise it'll be finished in two days. I can assure it will be fixed within a week for this beautiful lady… Let me go get my records and I'll quote you."

As the man retreated to the back room, Robert did a side-long glance having expected the man to say something of that sort. Once he felt his Lizzy lean into him and place her hand on his chest, he dismissed the man's wandering eye. His little spout of jealousy always a shock when people are this bold. Neutrality can only go so far…

Robert sighed in relief and leant over to kiss the side of his wife's forehead as well as placing an arm behind her, giving her waist a squeeze in promise. "I'd offer to buy you a new one, but this one is an heirloom." She solemnly nods her head.

"Maybe I shouldn't be using it after this, it's so old. Yet it got me through so much."

His lips smile thinly, but his warm expression travelling to his twinkling eyes made her reel with reassurance. Her hand feels his chest rumble as he tenderly voiced, "All it needs is fresh links then its brand new. That's what it's for, to be used for your church and prayer, especially during this time. I want you comfortable Lizzy."

"I most certainly am. Even more so when you thoughtfully remind me."

"And, again, I am sorry for my anger last night—" she cut his hushed apology off.

"—Robert, it's alright, truly. Let's forget it all happened—"

"—You know we can't—"

"Nothing like a man buying jewelry for the woman he loves." The couple's whispering silenced as a woman's high-pitched British inflection made the couple not have to wonder who it was. Her vibrant silk dress brighter than Lizzy's. "It's more romantic seeing you do so, Robert."

"Elizabeth!" Lizzy greets the woman with a hug they both welcome warmly. The woman's oldest son walking away to look for toys.

"Thank you, Mrs. Mulligan," Robert bowed his head shortly to her in greeting then slowly expressing, "You are surely witnessing a favorite private pastime of mine." He emphasized this with taking his wife's hand in his own.

Mrs. Mulligan grinned to him, "As it should be," then shifting her focus to her fellow Elizabeth, "Will it match your recent silk purchase?"

Elizabeth eyes sparkled with mirth as she was pulled into a conversation with her friend she rarely sees, "It's a rosary we're having repaired. It'll certainly go well with anything."

As he looked at his surroundings, Robert's eyes naturally fell to a dark corner with an array of books next to a shelf full of religious trinkets and devotions.

With Chauncey still in the back; after placing half the payment on the counter, Robert left the two women so they could catch up. On the way to the shelves, he passed a long, glass enclosed case of guns and muskets. He eyed them warily and interested for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to frighten him that he had a second to entertain that thought.

Continuing on his way, the item that stood out the most was a small white clump of fabric tucked behind a wooden toy. Without touching anything, he moved a tad to the side and saw the white clump was a tiny pair of baby shoes. After seeing those, he saw everything else followed that was attached to children… or any of his own future children at least.

Like many other children of his time, he grew up with few things. Even his Lizzy didn't have all the toys in the world. Before she was 10, she was raised up to play the harpsichord and harp, preparing herself for her future to entertain guests at a big home. A wonderful sound he wasn't used to hearing anymore.

Then his eyes glanced upwards to a shelf almost eye level, and there sitting untouched was a thin chain of metal links and crystal beads… a tiny rosary for a child. Robert felt a hard tug in his chest. His heart never felt such desire to purchase something so badly… especially the soft clothed doll for a little one to hold or carry around…

His moment of vulnerability and longing left when he heard his wife laugh with her friend, tearing him from his wistful imaginations. Before anything else, he'll have to patiently wait with his wife; children take time for some couples. They were definitely one of the some that took more time, as both sides of the family make clear to mention whenever they are all together. And before they could take a step in that direction, he'll have to consider selling his Boarding House and look into investing elsewhere that will benefit his pockets and marriage. If he could find a business closer to home—no, he wouldn't leave his wife and child at the family property during this time of war no matter how far away from home he worked.

He felt like kicking himself. Last night he genuinely promised Lizzy he would fix everything, but in order to do this he would be assessing every aspect of their lives that must be balanced, especially to welcome a child. While Robert certainly knew they were in a good place spiritually, mentally and physically was still an issue.

'Please spy for him Robert, for Washington,' Lizzy pleaded with those large tearful eyes that ripped through his entirety. She has not mentioned children until this morning after he dream. All she was focused on, rightfully so, was him doing something about the king's tyranny. And yes, the prospect of spying and risking to die for freedoms unperceivable was on the table. The silent battle waged from the front of his mind to the depths of his heart.

"You're all set! Just need you to sign." Chauncey called over to Robert returning to the front, who slowly faced towards the counter, lost in the depth of his thoughts behind his composed and impassive face. His wife was standing quietly alone at the counter waiting for him to rejoin. "I'll do my best to get started right away and have it done."

"I know you will do great work, no need to rush." Robert tells him. He scratched the quill against the parchment. "Thank you, sir." After he took his wife's arm in his and they left the store in a comfortable silence. He also failed to hear or notice Mrs. Mulligan's departure.

"I know this place has its child toys, but he has a little bit of everything," Elizabeth asked as the door closed behind them and they stood back out on the streets. "Did you see anything for yourself?"

Robert looked down at her, "Not exactly." Before she would question this response, he added with a soft squeeze of his hand on hers, "I need nothing new for a while."

(End of flashback)

At nightfall, the church bells toll on the next new hour. Customers inside of Rivington's Corner realize the time, gather their tobacco pipes, and leave with the person they came to socialize with. Occasionally people would come to dine late and drink beverages other than coffee, of course, but tonight was different.

Robert found out through Lizzy, who recognized regular customers passing by the building, that their doorman Tommy has been told to keep out half of their clientele for the day. The Quaker had never thought he would disagree with his business partner's decisions, thinking he would be just as wise as he, but Robert was wrong to have assumed this. All for printing false Congress dollars and to cover their scheme they lost plenty of revenue. Such is the dirty life of entrepreneurship and lying. So far, he was not liking its bitter taste but perhaps like coffee he will acquire it.

He couldn't let anger get the best of him however, because he was planning on sneaking downstairs into the printing press quarters to find out some information. As he was polishing endless glasses and eyeing the leaving customers, he saw the tall rugged man from earlier approach the counter.

Intimidation at its finest, he rasped out in a grumble, "Grog. Quick, now."

"It'll be a shilling," Robert frankly told him. Being a pushover for anyone was never something he was believe it or not. Working in the Bowery for years would give anyone thicker skin, but the Quaker life was strangely tough to navigate through in his younger years. If he was proud of absolutely anything—before he met Elizabeth—it would be his resilience.

"Ain't been paid yet," the penniless man responded a tad bit ashamed. But a genuine thought came to him, "I could get you some Continentals."

Robert ended up sighing, realizing this won't be the first time they'll lose revenue. With the dent made today he could let this one slide, and he saw his chance. "You gentlemen have been working away all night. Allow me to bring you some madeira. My compliments," he sincerely uttered. The man nodded with a pleased grin before backing away and heading back down the stairs…

In a timely manner Robert filled small cups of madeira, placed them all over the tray, and with one final nervous breath escape him, he stiffened as he took the hidden door behind the counter to see what he would find out.

While he was down below the establishment, Elizabeth came downstairs to check on him. With a gulp upon not seeing him around the empty room, knowing he had made it down below, she saw the dirty tables and went to clean them. Unfortunately, she couldn't hear any muffled voices no matter how silent she remained, even while walking across the floorboards.

Then for the first time in this place, Elizabet let out a calm sigh as she took in the silent, sweet smelling coffeeshop with just enough candlelight to cast a tremendously dim glow. Not even the ever-booming voice of Rivington there to shamelessly flirt with her; well, he gets his compliments in more like. When a loud rumble was heard, she felt her heart jump out of her chest. Just thunder. Foolishly, she backed into the billiards table and nearly knocked over the stick someone had left leaning against it.

She caught it just in time with a delighted smirk. And while she was at it, she eyed the billiards table she had been longing to try out when there wasn't anyone around. When she assumed the position that she saw the men do, the sound of footsteps on a staircase made her freeze.

Robert nearly jumped out of his skin seeing his wife in the room. Shutting the hidden door behind him, mindful to check that it's completely shut, he walks out from behind the counter.

"Lizzy, what are you doing?" He whispered not in a hiss, but apprehensive.

"Cleaning the last table." She sends him a tiny smile while he's taken aback by her concentration and eagerness to play. "And clearing the mind."

"Ha," Robert eyes sparkled as he chuckled shortly at her witticism. "You've been around too many men lately and myself. Or Rivington's cheek is rubbing off on you." The red cue ball hit the four white balls, only one making it into a pocket. Her hand flew to her mouth in excitement before huffing slightly at his words, watching her husband rest his hands on the edge of the table.

"Definitely not any of his cheeks," she mumbled. "May I remind you I had tea with Mrs. Mulligan yesterday who has a way to stir my mind. All I'm merely interested in at the end of the day is testing my skill as you are testing yours. Now that it's finally empty in here, I can have some freedom." She sighed then, shaking her head as she assessed the position of the balls. "You know, to breathe."

Robert's head bowed low, finally understanding her manner last night. While taking quiet strides over to her side he murmurs in reply, "I know precisely what you mean. We have a bunch of company downstairs with a tray of madeira, so be careful with what you say. It's never completely empty in here."

"That's one thing I miss at the Boarding House. It wasn't always crowded or filled with red," she pursed her lips as she eyed the table and moved to the best angle to hit the red ball.

"It was quiet, yes," he smirked shortly at this nice memory of the place. "You were there on good days," Robert murmured and followed her around the table. She paused before turning to him with concern.

"Are these days not good, you mean?" She quietly asked him. He quickly shook his head.

"No darling, they are good," he explained. "So far our time here is many times better than it was there."

Elizabeth had no idea why all these emotions were hitting her now. Maybe because of the empty room and finally she was alone with her husband in a place that wasn't their bedroom and home. "Because I'm here now?" She wasn't speaking accusingly but sorrowed. She didn't want this to be the only reason her husband found happiness in his tireless work. There should be another healthy aspect, or it should all be well for that matter.

Robert's forehead crumpled, "That's all the reason there ever needs to be. Darling if it's the redcoats you're speaking about then, yes, they unnerve me some days. All I'm saying is you were there on good days when there weren't many soldiers."

She pulled her arm back and hit the cue ball, the noise cutting their conversation and briefly travelled across the room. As she moved to the other side, he still followed her.

"After spending most of the day down here and watching you work," she closed her eyes as she thought of what to say, ceasing her efforts in playing. "You didn't look happy," her voice was near breaking but she wasn't crying. "Not that it hurt to notice that, but seeing you affected no matter how well you hide it pains me that I can't do anything about it."

He exhaled in both pain and awe at her perception. But he could sense and tell she was only concerned as regular, just more delicate. "You know where my happiness rests out of anyone. Only today did a thought occur to me regarding work and things outside of work. I'm sorry you caught that."

Robert had an idea and turned to the corner where billiard sticks rest, but he ended up with something better in mind. Moving his coat aside from in front of him, he moved to stand directly behind her as she leaned forward to angle the stick.

"You can fall into me darling," Robert speaks just above her ear, watching with anticipation their team effort.

"I don't want my skirts to push you away." She blushed when she felt his hands slide down her sides to her hips buried underneath her bustled robe, and he both guides her back to his chest, and presses himself closer behind her.

"That has never been an issue," he claimed with a matter-of-fact grin and single raise eyebrow towards her. "Even if so, there's always a way to adapt."

She only hummed as she steadied her hands and arms as well as feeling Robert's strength at the end of the stick. Together they nudge the stick with a force to knock both the red and white ball into a pocket. Elizabeth beamed, but before she could turn to him, his lowered face nestled against her jaw. His breath hit the nape of her neck as he lightly inhaled her scent. When Lizzy felt his lips touch her skin she froze, realizing they were in a public space even if it was empty.

"Robert?" She gasped.

"I believe I used to prefer you across the table from me in a special game of draughts. Now…" his tone lowered to a huskiness that was reminiscent to last night. "I prefer this much more. What do you say to one more match for the night back in our room?"

"Robert—" she speechlessly faltered at his unusual and bold insinuation that made her blush red and very warm. Robert placed a tender hand over her flat stomach as she turned in his arms to face him, chest to chest. He seemed to forget what they discussed last night.

He suddenly recalled all too seriously, "Do you remember the hot springs we visited on our way to see your parents? How we thought it would—" Elizabeth had to stop him there.

"—Yes, it felt wonderful but… but it didn't work." She closed her eyes again. "It's not like it was supposed to be magic or anything."

"We gave up soon after that and we had trouble when we began to try again." He whispered gentle yet firm. "It was neither of our faults; it just wasn't the time."

Elizabeth swallows as she set the billiards stick down, "Now isn't either! You surprised me last night so well that I didn't notice the date." She opened her eyes to meet his hardened gaze. "Did you know?"

Robert bit the inside of his cheek. "No, I forgot to look this month…" he mumbled.

"But why now? After you just said…" Elizabeth's eyes are alight with awareness. "Last night, were we trying?"

"Yes and no," Robert huffed to himself as he foolishly admitted. "I lied about not being ready after what you said and how you looked. I thought that's what you wanted-"

She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was here. "Of course, it's not but—"

"I originally thought it would be best to suppress our dream longer, but that would be wrong. It would continue to feel wrong." He swallowed as he reached for her arm and held it gently, "We are more than ready to move on, and I want something more now."

"Is this what you have been thinking of all this time, not just spying?" she silently mouthed the last word. "Have you considered my say in this decision?"

He moved the billiard stick out from between them to against the wall before responding, "I've always considered your say. I wasn't tricking you last night but I had no idea where you were on this subject."

She rested her hand on his face, "You would never do that to me, there's no need to say that."

He wrapped both arms around her now, "Remember how we agreed to fix this together?"

She nodded, looking up to him as he continued, barely able to contain the passion in his hushed voice. "I was honest when I said I want to only focus on you, and I'm not expecting a child to come of last night's lovemaking. However, I am ready to focus on, love, and protect someone else who is as wonderful as you."

Elizabeth desperately shook her head as her emotions got the best of her, "You don't…" She didn't have to wait for him to say anything else because she promptly spilled the truth, "I'm ready and I'm not. The problem is I can't handle another loss. No matter how often it happens to women around us to the point it's normal, witnessing my mother lose my siblings, I just can't bear it!— it was physically painful just as much—"

His eyes welled up watching her failing in containing her sobs. He raised his voice just above a hush so she could hear him clearly over her crying. "We will bear it together darling. I don't ever want you to go through that again, and I never want to feel that pain with you again. Oh Lizzy," Robert hummed with a throbbing heart, "we can't abstain from one another the rest of our lives." He engulfed her in a tight hug as she cried into his chest as hushed as she could, minding the men below their feet.

"I know that. You have too much faith in me-" she shook with tears in his arms.

"-Of course I do my sweet," Robert consoled her. When he felt her shoulders shudder less, he stuffed a hand into his coat pocket to pull out something small enough to fit within his hand. "I need to give this to someone, and I plan on it being a mini one of ourselves."

Elizabeth pulled away from his coat, taking out his handkerchief as well to blot her nose. At first, she couldn't make out what it was in the dark candlelit establishment. The moonlight pouring in brought attention to the shining silver in the palm of his hand. Not the portrait miniature she gave him years ago that was the only 'jewelry' other than his wedding ring, but resting there as long as his hand was a child's rosary.

"Where did you—" She nearly broke into a different set of tears, "How long have you had this?"

"Since I picked up your repaired rosary."

"I didn't know they made them this small."

"I just want to give you the greatest thing I could ever give you, Elizabeth," his words breathy, made out of a sigh. Elizabeth looked into his eyes hearing her actual name that's not often said. "And while I know I have you, all that I could ever ask for, to have a baby with you… I want to expand that love just as much as you do."

Elizabeth tearfully smiled shaking her head as she leaned up to kiss him, catching him by surprise his lips pursed last minute. "And we will. For this child we have prayed."

The sound of feet thudding on the basement stairs broke the silence after her words. Their private moment in a public space that should be busy at this time was close to ending.

Robert looked in this direction with a hardening glint in his stare, but as he took her hands to ask for reassurance, he shared his kind tone with her, "So, what do you say, let's use both our good skills and get this one deep in the pocket this time?"

She blushed once more but felt her lips smirk at his humor and flirting, "Ha. What you learned down there can wait? You won't forget?"

He slowly nodded his head, lowering his forehead to hers. Never once breaking their starry eye contact as his eyelids softly drooped. "I'll lay in and get to it in the morning. There's nothing I can do about it tonight. But this… this I can."

...

Once he made it to the top of the staircase after the men somehow finished their work, he shot a wary look to a couple of occupied rooms as he proceeded in loosening his neck-cravat as he strides straight towards his door.

When he walked in, he found her already standing half-naked in the window. The rain pouring down the glass and wind blowing gusts of mists against it nearly had him falling to his knees at her beauty. The shadows of rain from the curtain trailing on her like a church bell.

Before he stepped any closer, he ripped off his neck stock, shrugged off his coat not caring where it landed, and started to unbutton his vest. She removed her hands from cupping her bosom, allowing her hair to hide what it could, but since she went to meet him half way desperately, her brown hair moved back in the brush of air that blew up between them when they collided. But their kisses were careful and sweepingly slow.

How his hands felt rough but held her with such softness, the two of them seeming to span the entire expanse of her back. Or perhaps that was because he simply felt ingrained in her entire being. Velvet, plump lips traveled lower, over the arch of her collar bone, leaning her back ever so slightly so her back arched towards him as he ducked lower and lower till he could nip at the valley between her breasts already making her breaths hitch.

Soon they backed each other to the bed, but Robert was the one to sink her into the soft bed sheets. They shared a look as they regained their breaths but not before long their headboard rattled against the wall with the crackling flames of the fire, and Robert squeezed his wife harder every time she moaned or gasped his name in a special cadence. When the thunder outside cracked, she spread her legs further apart only for Robert to reach for one of her legs to fold them close to him. Then he returned one his arms to the center of the headboard to grip. It rained heavy outside as his hips snap back and forth, the obscene of flesh against stickier flesh filled the barely lit room. A beat of silence as his eyes closed and his body arched in that all too familiar way and a roaring groan neither thought him capable of erupted from his throat. In timing with a loud clap of thunder, his hips ground against hers hard, once, twice, three times, continuously going until he exhaled deeply and collapsed beside her.

"Robert—" His name dreamily sighed on her sweet breath faded into a delightful moan when he slid himself back above her to rest against her, pulling the blankets closer to their necks.

He placed his forehead gently against hers and their noses touched as they both looked down, wordlessly praying for a little miracle. After this, he cupped her face to lean in for a slow, careful, sealing kiss she gladly returned that lasted long past their candle light.

"Morning, Mr. Rivington," Samuel Townsend entered the establishment the next morning.

Rivington beamed once he saw who it was, "Ah, the elder Townsend!"

"By any chance have you seen my son?"

The newsman tilted his head quizzically as he seemed to think. "You know I haven't. He was covering the shop last night and I hear it turned into quite the late affair. I imagine he's having a bit of a lie-in up in his room."

Samuel simply nodded, squeezing his cane, "Yes, all right. Well, I believe I shall wake him." However, Rivington shared his other thoughts as he pulled Mr. Townsend into a conversation the man wasn't expecting.

"But what if he's enjoying his lie-in? He's finally taken out some time to be with Elizabeth," Rivington explained. "What if he's entertaining his lady? Or… ladies?" He grinned. Samuel may have awkwardly stood there, but he didn't turn red in the face because he knew his son very well. And if he was with his wife, they would not be caught in any inappropriate state at this hour late in the morning.

"I'll walk you up."

Samuel shook his head with a light chuckle, "I assure you..." But any attempt to get the nosy newsman to remain down here was futile. He was onto his Robert. With no choice but to follow the man up the stairs with his cane for support, Rivington eagerly travelled up as well as sharing some more personal thoughts on what his son could be doing.

He was at his writing desk since Elizabeth went to the market. Robert heard the footsteps before they stopped at the door and knocked, but he didn't let Rivington's voice disturb him as he wrote with a careful hand on a sheet of music paper. The tension settled in when the doorknob was tried before more impatient knocking.

"One minute," he called over to the door's direction as he sprinkled some pounce on the sheet of music to dry the ink faster. Then he went straight for the door, still with an untied neck stock, white shirt and partially buttoned vest.

He answered with a tight smile, more pleased to see his father had made it safely. "Mr. Rivington. Thank you for guiding..." The man practically invited himself in and moved past him. Robert shook his head to his father with a confident smirk reserved just for him.

"Hmm," Rivington looked around the room, but he strode up to the bed. With a whistle he grabbed one of the base legs of the bed, lifted it a foot off the ground before dropping it with a thud. He was expecting someone to be hidden under it.

Rivington glanced to the two Townsend's who were standing unassumingly by the door. Robert was now buttoning the rest of his vest with a neutral face.

"Hmm," Rivington hummed again, this time seeing Robert's desk and what's oddly on it. He reaches for the freshly written paper. "Curious you're writing on music paper."

"Yes, yes, it's a copy," Robert nodded and turned to his father. "Got it for Nelly, Father. It's a new piece composed by an Austrian fellow. Naturally I will be selling the original, but I thought that Nelly might like to be the talk of the town playing something fresh on her pianoforte—if she can find a violin partner, it is a duet." He made sure to point out the distinction on the paper.

"She'll be so pleased," Samuel smiled cheerily, going with whatever his son says.

Rivington raised an eyebrow to Robert, "Lizzy and you were up late into the night playing the billiards the major said. Exchanged the draughts for balls, eh? And now you have this Nelly on the side. Perhaps she could stop in one day… You rascal!" He chortled finally on his way out the room.

After he shut the door, Robert sighed with the largest eye roll in his history and returned to his desk.

"I told you he was going to be a problem!" Samuel spoke up immediately. "Got his eye on you."

"And mine is on him," Robert calmly replied, rolling the music sheet up. "If I am caught, Rivington will not be the one to do it."

"And if he discovers that Nelly is the family dog?"

Robert's eyes crinkled with wit, "He likes a good joke." But he quickly recomposed himself and handed his father the rolled-up paper with invisible intelligence written on it. "Now, time is of the essence with this one. Make sure that Culper knows that."

Samuel tucked it in the valise in his hand. "Yes…" The older Townsend watched his son wipe away the powder on the chair before he went to get his coat off the wrinkled bed, his back to him. "Robert." He stated prior to leaving the room.

Robert turned and responded in a hushed groan, not expecting he to be the one to reassure him, "Father, don't worry."

"I'm proud of you," Samuel expressed, surprising Robert enough that he stopped fiddling with his coat and his plain expression faded. Those words, rarely said, hit him hard. "I wanted to be sure that you knew that. You know, it would be good to spend some time with you away from all this business. Why don't you come home next week for Thanksgiving dinner at the farm? All of us together."

"Thanksgiving?" Robert questioned as he broke eye contact with his father to put on his dark overcoat.

"Yes."

"Why, Father," Robert grinned in question to him as he adjusted the cuffs and collar, "wouldn't that be considered a holiday?"

Samuel nearly scoffed, "So don't tell the other Quakers."

He didn't have to think twice about it. He answered with the same grin, "I won't." But his father convinced him further, though he did not need to.

"And in any case, there'll be turkey," Samuel smiled expectantly for his son's confirmation. "Also, Lizzy's pumpkin pie or sweet potato casserole if you'd allow her to travel in beforehand."

He smiled warmly back at his father, "Count me in. And yes, I'll let her know once she returns from the market."

Samuel nodded with one final cheery smile, tapping the valise with his cane before heading out the door leaving Robert. Now all he had to be worried about was the information getting to Washington on time.

Now he was smiling broader, Robert even felt his eyes glisten at the wonderful thought of going home away from work to celebrate with his wife and father. Even if it was a holiday, he knew he had a lot to be thankful for and it turned out to be one of his favorite holidays to express his gratitude with Lizzy. Whatever made her glow or bring a smile to her face, like holidays, he was all for being there. And if there so happened to be a little one joining them at dinner come the new year… this fleeting thought and great hope grounded him where he was at. He couldn't wait for the peaceful day fast approaching.

—

Dear Mr. Culper, I have challenging news. British counterfeiters are set to flood New York and elsewhere with forged Continental dollars. John André briefed 12 men, shovers, who leave midday Tuesday on a ship called the Glencairn traveling the Hudson north of Fort Montgomery to Con Hook. Where they go after that, I do not know. Aside from this, I note Major André has been lately down in the mouth. Woman troubles of some variety. Please tell 711 as fast as possible. Hopefully this news will reach him in time to cut off the ship and disrupt this plot.

-C. Jr.

A/N: Too long? Too much? A very long episode that was fit into one chapter. Their love scene similar to Peggy and John Andre's moment in the show if you noticed. The 'not so peaceful' Thanksgiving dinner is next chapter...

Y'all are amazing and I'm happy you are enjoying it more and more. Thank you for reviewing and being here!

Stay tuned :)

-BrownEyedGirl87