A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Inside this chapter is something sweet and a long awaited gift for the Townsends. The chapter title is based off of someone in Continental Congress referring to signer Charles Carroll as such because he was one of the wealthiest- or the wealthiest in the colonies it would seem.

Episode "Mended" will be next chapter because this chapter turned out to be another detailed beast. Please enjoy! :)

Chapter 11: And There Go Millions

- 2 months later -

Heavy snow may still be falling but Christmas came and went in York City as it had everywhere else. That day was all but another day in the colonies to do the Lord's work and live an ordinary day. Except for this year in the small Townsend household above Rivington's, the couple enjoyed and cherished togetherness all into the new year because after the lengthy time having to part ways, they were finally soaking in a true holiday in peace without dreading a morning to say farewell.

To Elizabeth's ultimate joy, Robert even went with her to attend church on Sunday. After some quiet few days off on Christmas, Robert wanted to do nothing more than have his wife dressed up to take her somewhere to eat in the city that wasn't below their room. And if it wasn't so late in the evening or overcast, they would be able to stand near the docks of the city to watch the sunset. Just had to look past a lot of soldiers at their guard posts…

Despite the failed scheme to flood the economy with false Congress notes that would have attracted more revenue, the business still boomed even it were a subtle 'boom'. Robert's pockets had some extra weight, so to speak, and he knew exactly what to do with it. On Christmas and New Year's Eve he brought upstairs her favorite white wine—a promise he had made in November but their romantic night never occurred. Of certain, now they had rekindled their intimacy on all manners, and had more than several stimulating moments whenever they had the privacy or time.

Over wine on New Year's Eve was when he told his Lizzy that he had used the remaining amount of her dowry to increase his stake in Rivington's Corner at the beginning of it all; and his worst fear came to light.

She had her 'simple glow' look on this night which was her hair completely down, wearing a comfortable white nightgown that puckered at her bosom in a tied bow, and her eyes shined a hopeful light green as she eased his worries. Cuddling beneath a wool blanket with him, she whispered, "Robert, we can replace that. It was more meant for helping us in our early wedded years. Townsend House needed no extra frills."

Robert lowered his glass to the side table and looked to her with a humbly thin smile that went to his eyes. Pleased in every way possible by her.

"Over the years it just became more of a savings than a dowry. I needed none of it I kept insisting to your father as I only needed you my dear," he flashed her a charming grin when she handed him her unfinished glass, only a spit of remnants of the wine at the bottom. Elizabeth was already blushing at her ways when he slipped in a loving line.

Her hand went to rub his chest in the slowest of sensual circles as he added after putting her wine glass next to his. Robert's head laid back in the settee before swallowing.

"Lizzy we were both fortunate to come from good standing such as never needing a dowry to begin with, and I will endlessly pray in thanks for all of our blessings. Yet there's another guilt that can't so easily be abridged," Robert exhaled adorning a serious frown that's regularly seen by the public eye more so than her. "I've always viewed it as your money, not mine or ours."

Elizabeth looked to his chest briefly as she faintly shook her head, "I've used only so much of it just for updating our room at Townsend House. Maybe replaced one piece of china that shattered, but the money was for both of us to use. I'm not upset with you Robert, if that's what you're questioning."

Robert licked his lips as his eyes gained a sleepy sheen as he fought to stay awake on New Year's Eve that he had to work on for a short while in the morning. "It's the fact I never asked you first back at the Boarding House. Just diving into entrepreneur life as if I were a first-time gambler. After this little crash, I fear for the rest of the year as this war goes on especially if it came to a boiling point that we can't stay. The dowry…" he saw her slight confusion and concern, but easily he made it clearer for her to understand, "it was a valuable cushion that may be never seen again."

"The spying you did for the General. Do you think you will be reimbursed for that?"

Robert kept quiet for what felt like many minutes before he shook his head, "They're bankrupt, love. Perhaps if their affairs are all in order one day, but I don't expect to be…" He realized then that he never signed anything for that work. It was truly a word of honor that he would help the rebels—well, the ring—and any thought of payment never occurred to him nor did Woodhull mention it.

She nodded slowly, "We can borrow money from my father. He will be more than understanding—"

"No. No, we will not borrow any money from your parents or anyone even if they were the richest in the world," Robert shook his head resolutely as they cuddled by the fire. The palm of his hand even clasped the indent of her waist perfectly and resumed rubbing his thumb against the warm skin through the fabric. He tried to shut the month of November and every time he greeted Woodhull out of his mind. New Year… everything behind him…

Elizabeth hummed at his seamless touch that got rid of a pressure and soothed her tension. But she licked her lips feeling sensitive of this topic. Her father may be a small man in stature, not much taller than Robert, but her father's wealth, spirit, and intelligence were vast. She mumbled her parent's private business in honesty, "But my father is the richest in the colonies…"

Well, the public, particularly the delegates of Congress are familiar with Charles Carroll and they do consider him exceedingly wealthy. But no amount of dollars he donates to the cause can lift them from the drowning debt.

Robert leaned over to place a kiss to her cheek, "Because he has you for a daughter." She laid her head on his shoulder gazing up at him flattered and beholden. He rubbed her soft hand in his, "You have nothing to be shamed of my sweet. He is successful. Once I save up the right amount that was left previously, it will go untouched after—"

Elizabeth shook her head and took his face in her hands, "Money can always be replaced darling. Let's just say the remaining amount went towards food and clothes. The tips I receive when I offer my help and my parents' usual gift for our wedding anniversary can be our new savings. You will not come out of this penniless."

"I'll try not to," he mumbled before yawning. Then he sat straighter and took her in his arms, "Let's toast one last time to 1780. May the new year revel with the Lord's blessings on us all, and may we keep up the good fight—"

Elizabeth reopened her eyes as he said this. Did he say what she thought he meant? Is he reconsidering? Her heart twisted at the thought of reopening the door to the dangers of spying despite what her nagging mind was encouraging her to speak aloud.

Robert finished his thoughts as he opened his guarded eyes after lowering their heads, "—He fights for us, and every new day half the battle is already won." When he noticed her eyes were open before his, trying to look at him when he wasn't paying attention, he pressed his warm lips to the center of her forehead. The gravity of his small prayer never was supposed to end on a serious note, nor make him appear he was in a bad mood, but that was a part he left out of his earlier prayer.

Elizabeth's smile wasn't pretend, but she was a tad disillusioned that her husband's words wasn't what she was hoping to hear. Instead of endangering their prospects and his own reputation, Robert would rather fix their current finances and maintain a plain and pious reputation. No longer unsure, Elizabeth knew what kind of lady she was supposed to be… wanted to be.

Their glassless toast was sealed with a lengthy kiss. Everything about the kiss seemed to trap everything they went through in the year everyone is leaving behind save for the some.

After this cozy night, the long month of January ensued. One of those mornings late in the month before he was close to waking up, Robert felt his wife's foot kick his leg in their sleep. He was not a man who snored, but just like Lizzy he had instances where he slept so well that his breath would hitch in mild alertness as if it were a single deep snore to be heard throughout the whole room or the next. Thankfully, that and her kicking him in her sleep wasn't enough cause to sit up and start the day. After a rough night of closing, he ensured he got every blink of sleep he could, even if that meant taking his flattened pillow and moving it over his face to block the sun and turning over on his stomach to keep warm. The hearth needed rekindling on this early winter morning, and at some point, he would be the one to get up to do it.

With covers pulled up to her chin, Elizabeth's eyes were glued shut in her deep dream state, and in this dream before turned-nightmare, she was reliving an event in the past quite vividly. And it was all because of one man's face in the streets of New York last year just before Thanksgiving.

In the dream she felt younger than she was now, and the more she took in her surroundings it was accurate. Her legs felt light and feet ached as she was dancing at the Mulligan's wedding reception, and she looked around the room with a cheerless smile. Her Quaker man nowhere in sight because it felt like the moment just before she left the ballroom floor to meet her future husband.

Whether it was anxiety from knowing Robert was just down the hall staring at a painting, or the face of the Scottish man grinning at her whispering flattering flirtations, she was exhausted from dancing in her dream and upset being in the man's tight albeit comfortably warm grip. From her memory, it wasn't so bad at the time. After she left the dance floor and met a rather dreamy Quaker, she never looked back on the beginning of that evening.

The man staring at her the day Major John Andre approached her had grown to be a random face she thought back on because she recognized him by the end of the year. He had a scar on his face—identical to the last man she danced with at the reception… the entire time with the exception of other eligible bachelors before she left the room.

Her mind could only come up with one audible line to recall him saying after she wakes up.

'I've never seen a radiant woman like you. We make a good pair out here, don't we my lady?' In the dream, she met his ice blue eyes before breaking down in tears, and then the dream took a turn to her reoccurring nightmare echoing the previous Thanksgiving…

Waking up in a cold sweat alongside feeling like one is falling off the bed is the worst. Doing so after having a nightmare reminiscent to a gun held up to her, Elizabeth startles awake as if she were not breathing. The bright morning sun splits through the curtain, reaching her body before her husband's hand does.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" Barely awake himself, Robert's hand goes to her back as he leans over in bed to look at her with half-opened eyes.

After propping her pillow up and sitting up in bed and patting her white nightgown to blot the sweat on her chest, she responds, "Yes. It was only a nightmare."

Robert closed his eyes and let his heavy head fall back into the pillow. He muffled blearily, "Probably don't have to ask what it was about."

She caught a chill just then, and pulled the covers up to her chest as she rested her head back on the wall. "No, you don't."

Knowing she was awake and hearing her breath shudder just once, he dismissed the entire nightmare and reminded as he shifted slightly making the bed creak, "I'll tend to the hearth in a few minutes."

Elizabeth nodded more to herself than him, who was half asleep and awake with eyes closed. She wanted him to rest as long as he could because he was always moving around once awake.

"It's not like you to stay up. You can lay back down…" Robert peered up at her as he flipped over and laid flat, stretching his legs. "And keep warm." She smiled briefly at his tired face before she realized she was rubbing her stomach. She froze her hand above the blankets.

"I think I ate something bad as well," she told him trying to remember what she last ate. Meanwhile, Robert's mind was already working so he was wide awake now. "It was probably the salmon."

He replied, "You've been saying this for some weeks now, should I send for a doctor?"

She shook her head. "No, not yet. All they'll recommend is hot tea and rest but that is not possible. I am attending the meeting again."

"And I'm encouraging you to not," Robert sternly insists with a frown. Now he turns over to face her, propping his head up with his arm. "Believe me, you're better off sitting here in silence than there. I prefer the yearly meetings and whenever I am able. Every few weeks or so."

The corners of her lips curved up, "Beginning to sound like your father."

His defensiveness rose to his expression, but his shoulders relaxed. "No, I've always done it that way. It's more personal," Robert droned with sarcastic emphasis. "You've already been to church the beginning of the week, why not stay in and rest yourself? After all the times you tell me?" He smirks suddenly, getting an idea, and swings his leg over hers to nearly climb atop her making her laugh.

Elizabeth felt her stomach grow light all of a sudden, perhaps from hunger. But the queasy feeling she could not ignore this time. Her smile faded to a grimace as she smushed the side of her face into the pillow, enough to hide her mouth.

Robert grins against the side of her head, and places a kiss to her cheek and temple after everything he mentions. His warmth warmed her in the best way possible. "Forget the dust, the laundry, the cleaning—volunteering downstairs when you don't need to. What… can I do…" he hintingly kissed all along her neck and visible cheek at each pause, "to convince you, before I head out?"

"But what about the women's meeting," she swallowed as she forced a thin lipped, fine enough face to peer back at Robert. She absentmindedly clutched the front lacings of the sleep shirt on his hairy chest. "They may be trying to help the King's men in some impartial way and I could hear something from them and tell you... the little bit I get at least."

Her mind didn't register that he was rubbing her upper thigh in soothing circles until she felt his warm hand stop before pulling away to push the covers off of him.

It's been two months since Thanksgiving at his father's house, and two months since he backed out of spying with the Culper Ring, which for all she knew was broken. Despite him forfeiting for good reason, and incessant demands to not talk about it after barely a month after the holiday, Robert happened to one day question aloud his decision. She would always remind him (despite being shaky from recalling the events of the 'rangers' attacking them and Robert Rogers holding a gun to her, thus insisting him to forget about it) that it is his call and she will support him despite all that happened.

She was not a fool to not know what was at stake. Elizabeth more than understood and respected his wishes for ceasing to spy just as much as it pained her to hear Robert admit he may forever feel less of a man. When these talks would surface after a long day of work for him, when he would join her for meal time, or escort her on a rare brisk walk in the city at sunset, they will always circle back to him second guessing everything. Not only spying, but moving back to Oyster Bay or even Maryland…

"Darling," Robert sighed finally as he sat up in bed, "they think nothing ill of you I guarantee it because you are not Quaker, and they know you have your own light of God as we so believe." He paused and looked away to the baseboards, "And you know it's over. Please do not help them out in any little way, I don't want you involved in what little part you were doing or around any King's men without me around."

Her market trip scheduled for today shot to the front of her mind after hearing his impossible request, "The market and streets—"

Making his way to the washbowl and dresser, he exhaled in a groan, "You know what I mean. They think and say unpleasant things." Robert hinted at the ones who visit at Rivington's. "As long as you're within this area of town you are safe."

"Well, I need to go to the market that's close to where we used to live." As she spoke, he remembered last minute to add wood to the fire and stoke the old one before rekindling it with a lit candlestick from during the night.

Robert grimaced and encouraged gently, "Lizzy, that's the worst one now, a year made all the difference. Use any of the coffee shops ingredients for our meals and go to the indoor shops… on this street. We can afford to do so. Especially for necessities we rarely replace for ourselves like tea…"

"Not if I can purchase it for cheaper just around the block-" Elizabeth paused feeling a bit sick, but Robert hadn't noticed as he returned to his dresser to change into his white cotton work shirt and breeches before digging through his work desk drawers.

The sound of coins shuffled around as he replenished his coin purse, dropping it atop the desk, then returning to finish dressing himself.

While he buttoned his dark waistcoat, he turned back towards her sitting up in bed where he left her and noticed the unfinished words, "We can allow greater spending, and you can take a break from walking all that way just for now. I do not need you fainting where I can't get to you quick enough."

Elizabeth shook her head as she moved to grab the glass of water on the side table, blowing hair out of her face in the process, "I haven't fainted in years. It's not that either, there is no fever. It is more of a nauseous feeling."

Robert's eyes were distraught as he finished dressing himself: neck cravat, breeches to be buttoned, stockings, grey coat, and buckled shoes. Then so focused on keeping warm and speaking to his wife, he forgot to tidy up his hair. Upon making his way to the washbowl and mirror, he picked up his coin purse and stuffed it in his pockets meticulously.

He mumbled firmly, "You definitely do not need to be mingling with anyone at the Society meeting or downstairs, then. Pneumonia and colds are still rampant."

Elizabeth reassured him, "It's alright Robert. I stay far away as I can get from ill customers. There's been no coughing or anything of the like."

He sighed to himself as he messed up doing the ribbon of his queue, "I'll make special note to not order fish from—" Her head reclined back against the wall at his worrying, holding a hand over her stomach in apprehension.

"—Not yet they are the most reputable fisherman we've had, Rivington's wife may be right. Let's wait and see. It was probably only my plate," she quietly interrupted him. "Why are you in a rush this morning?"

Robert perfected his hair and fixed minor imperceptions in his clothes, "I forgot we have some higher-ranking soldiers coming in for yet another sit- down and political spew. A few men will certainly argue and try negotiating the recent price of rum."

"Rivington can't spare any of the others at these early hours?" Elizabeth questioned about the impossible business partner. "What if you happened to go down there later than the expected time? We almost lost track of time this morning."

He coughed to clear his throat as he travelled around their bed with a single quirked eyebrow. Now his face held his sly smile. A private thought, or an intimate thought only between them, amused him. "Then he would ask me what I've been doing and… he would know what I would be doing so late in the morning."

His crass jargon made her close her eyes uncomfortably despite him only mimicking his business partner's words exactly. Lizzy huffed indignantly thinking of nosy Rivington. Some days it seems he would try to meddle his way into their marriage life. Robert's knowing smirk dropped as he walked up to her bedside handing her his coin purse. "Go get your favorite. We are out of fresh bread as well, so if that is all you feel you can stomach... Are you well enough to go?"

"Some fresh air would be nice. I may instead get some ginger or cinnamon," she looked at his concerned and curious face. "My mother would make me something with those things whenever I felt under the weather."

He nodded, "We'll give those things to the cook and he will make you up something suitable. You should sleep as you feel you should, especially after your nightmare." He nearly struggled to say the awful word now pertaining to his exuberant wife.

Elizabeth lips quirked up endearingly at his barely noticeable flinch at the word he used. But she didn't express how she noticed it. "I will. And let's drink the tea here for at least another week, put it on the tab."

"It's on the house for us every day my dear." Robert's fingertips brushed the hair out of her face before he leaned down to bring their lips together. It was a perfect moment of bliss that made her sick feeling dispel for some seconds. Her hand even went to his cheek to pull him down deeper.

They pulled back. He gently murmured, "Please do get better." And on his way out the door he spoke over his shoulder, "I'll see you whenever things slow."

When she was sure he was gone, hearing his fading footsteps travel down the hall, she clutched her stomach and slowly sat up in bed. The dream pushed to the back of her mind for now.

Next to the burning hot hearth, Elizabeth stripped off her white nightgown to stand bare naked in front the mirror to not tend to her tangled hair, but to sneak a peek at her small protruding belly.

"We can't hide it from him not much longer, can we?" Elizabeth murmured gently to the child growing inside of her. Two months. Two months now—all through Christmas she had no idea until right at the start of the new year she noticed something wasn't adding up regarding her femininity. Once she realized she was pregnant, she kept this secret for another two weeks until knowing for certain she was with child, and to see if Robert would notice or feel a little change on her when they cuddled during the remaining winter days. But the bump started so small, and only now is it beginning to look like she is bloated.

This was all new to her—and soon her darling Robert as well. With his mind wrapped around what he left behind and what he has been reconsidering for the sake of their future in a free world, Elizabeth couldn't bring herself to tell him her good news only for it to go wrong.

But not this time. She's been praying on it and now Robert can as well. She felt warm as ever as she rubbed her stomach in slow circles as she calmly thought of acting on her plan for today. There were several stops to make.

First things first, she will tidy herself up and dress in one of her plain dresses, then bundle up warm and hide the little box of knitted baby shoes she purchased—back when she first realized—until she returns home to surprise Robert.

Lizzy purchased freshly made pastries, cinnamon and bread from the near baker's shop instead of the outdoor market of commerce and socializing. This Robert was right about, that they could survive off of nearby necessities without venturing out, and order other nourishments to the business with the rest of the stock to avoid high traffic areas.

After their many financial conversations, and holding her husband's coin purse in hand, she contemplatively weighed it in her hand as she decided to do something. Something she hasn't done in nearly a decade. She decided to walk in to a coiffeur's shop to fix up her hair into something fine.

Now early afternoon making her way to Rivington's, Elizabeth noticed Robert was bundled up in a cloak standing outside as he took inventory. Thankfully the large cattle pulling the cart were blocking each other from view, and he looked to be writing on a checklist as he looked down.

Finally, she sucked in a breath and convinced herself to do it. She entered Mulligan's fabric filled Haberdashery after a line of redcoats passed in front of her.

"Good morning Mrs. Townsend!" the familiar Cato greeted her.

The flurries of snow blew in with her as she smiled bright, "Good morning Cato!"

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?"

"I came to glance at the newest fabrics, preferably the neutral ones. The one I picked out for my husband as a Christmas gift has a little more shine to it than he would like."

But instead of Cato responding, the young man looked over his shoulder as they both heard the familiar Irish drogue of Hercules who overheard the entire exchange.

"Ah, he should know by now who knows him best and has an eye for simple glows." The man's wavy blonde head of hair rounded the corner and swayed out from behind a column with a beaming face. The officer who was getting refitted walked around him to make payment to Cato. "And after living nearly a decade across the way from me, he should know how I don't take returns, mind you."

Elizabeth blushed and held back a giggle at his jests, but clearly her small mouth had flashed a shy toothy smile to show her delight.

With twinkled eyes he approached her warmly as he grasped her offered hand in greeting before asking more quieter, "How have you been Elizabeth? It's been some time."

"I've…" She paused as the redcoat walked past them both to exit the business, expressing his compliments to Mulligan on the way out, and tipping his head to the lady.

When he left, she still found herself talking at a low level, "I've been better. The holidays and the blizzard kept us in, and I haven't done plenty of baking myself to bring by any food. How about you?"

"It was a rough winter wasn't it? I'm sorry to hear that about yourself," he shared her feeling and smiled thinly, "me, same old, same old. Just wardrobe changes and usual trend setting…" he motioned for her to come further into the shop so they wouldn't be close to the drafty door and windows. "You're not obligated to spoil us with pastries every time you set foot in here," Hercules' tender smirk was short lived because he noticed her seriousness. "You stopped in at a good time, are you here to find your husband a new coat or… something else you had in mind?"

She shifted the basket of food in her hands after placing two small spice cakes behind his counter for the two men, and partially glanced down, "I'm not sure if you'll be able to shed some light on this, but do you happen to recall a Mr. Gamble at your wedding reception by any chance?"

He paused at a lost for thought, but he raised a knowing eyebrow, "I… believe so. Yes. He's a lieutenant, came in once." Hercules held her eye contact inquisitively, waiting for her to elaborate.

"Because we shared a dance or more that night. But why I'm here is that before Thanksgiving, there was a man close to Major Andre who hasn't been around him lately at the coffeehouse—" The chime of the bell on the door silenced her while Hercules' head shot up with a greeting to the customer.

"Good day sir, Cato will take your measurements. I'll be right with you," Hercules nodded gently to the customer than held his hand out towards Elizabeth, "Mrs. Townsend, right this way. You said you need a second opinion, yes?"

She nodded courteously, her voice fading away the further they walked into his men's salon, "Yes I do. I actually am going to be needing a more billowing shift soon."

Hercules nearly didn't grasp what she said until the last minute before he went on with what he had to say. His polished leather shoes scuffed against the wooden floorboards as he came to a stop to glance from her face, past her cloak and down to her hidden belly.

He smirked complimentary, "I knew you were glowing more than regular," then he leaned forward to hug her properly, "congratulations dear. This is wonderful news!"

"Oh, thank you."

He pulled away to point a finger to her to emphasis what he was about to say, "Tell your husband that I'm vexed he didn't run right over to tell me. Elizabeth and I would have thrown you both a long- awaited party before—"

"Thank you, that's too kind Mr. Mulligan, but that can't happen because he doesn't know yet!" Elizabeth even glanced back towards the main room of the shop, worried her husband would've stopped in himself and overhear. "I'm planning to today whenever he's off, hence the treats in the basket. But that wasn't why I came here."

He pulled away from her to grab measuring tape to feign measuring her waist and chest. He nodded as he intently looked at what he was measuring, "Right, the man you danced with, at Rivington's, go on."

"At least I believe it was one of the many Scots from that night, I recognized him because of his scar…"

Hercules' head tilted in worry, looking away from her neckline to meet similar light eyes. "Mrs. Townsend, is everything alright? Why are you concerned about this Gamble fellow?"

Elizabeth answered in a hush, "He looked at me strangely one day, the last time I saw him. I was merely curious of his relation to you and Elizabeth. I keep having nightmares, as silly as that sounds, and I want them to end."

The tailor knew more than he let on having been told by a mutual friend what happened at Townsend House on Thanksgiving. But neither Townsend were ever supposed to know this, and he was smart to keep these facts he knew to himself. However, he couldn't hide any facial emotions to the daughter of his Catholic friend, nor help the reaction of his lower lip trembling just once at her gracefully trodden face.

"Ah," Hercules swallowed to clear his dry throat before understandably nodding. "If it settles your nerves, then I have good news. None of us are related to him," his eyes crinkled but he didn't smile, "just a distant friend. He was killed by rebels before the new year when he went to flood the market with fake Congress notes. Everyone for the king in upper echelons knew the scheme." Hercules never meant to rush the last part, trying to cover up his own tracks… but all of this went past Elizabeth.

She held no care for the Gamble man, but to see a familiar face and have such an odd nightmare of someone she could've been with… who would've been completely against her family's wishes…

The distraught and alarm was visible on her face as she only mumbled, "I see…"

For so long Lizzy understood anyone could die at any time, and no one was meant to live forever. However, now it's giving her a panic realization that this war only heightened that chance—especially by the hands of either side. Like being shot… Her Robert could be easily taken from her just as that man was from this earth. Get yourself together Lizzy. Robert is clever over anyone you know. Nothing will happen to him. All of these thoughts endlessly swirled.

"Elizabeth!" Hercules hushed her name multiple times. Finally, he stepped in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You have a friend in this city, and you're safe to inquire about a soldier, just as any sole lady does when they come here."

Thankfully Mulligan was there to lighten up a somber discussion. She rolled her eyes at her own paranoia and at his little chuckle. But he continued considerately, "Your father and I hit it off the moment we met and we still write to this year despite all that's going on." He shrugged slightly, "Like your husband, him and I are more alike than you know. Or so I hope."

Elizabeth didn't catch onto what he was implying, and maintained a neutral face that was truly one big frown. "I was better off not asking. It unnerved me enough to—" Elizabeth gathered herself and refrained from telling him personal gossip. It went against her nature in her household and out of etiquette with men. After all, she was taught to act as if her husband was standing next to her if he wasn't around in a public setting. "I think I better make my leave now."

"I won't tell Robert of your gossip. Even if the man indirectly disturbing you is a dead man now," Hercules thoughtfully added in an exhale.

"No, it's fine. Thank you. I just needed to know of his whereabouts for my safety…"

He led her back to the front of the store, and went to his drawer of blank cards to write down the measurements he took. To this she raised a brow, believing he was faking looking her down and remembering the numbers.

"I'm not bragging when I say this now, but these are the most precise predictions one can make, yours truly, on the measurement of the new gowns you'll be needing. Take this to your seamstress m'lady."

Elizabeth smiled gratefully to him, "Thank you Hercules." He stepped out from behind the counter like an olive-green silk feathered peacock in the dead of winter.

"I will be waiting for Robert to run over here," He reminded her with a parting smile, "May even bring the family over to the coffeeshop and have sherry's all around. Not for the children though…"

She pulled open the door before replying. "In the public eye at least," she joked with a wink making each other chuckle.

"Aye, you get it," Hercules winked back, his grin permanent as she faded from view. He mumbled to himself faintly under his breath after the fact, "And there go millions…"

A silent Cato listened to everything that went on in the haberdashery. Attuned to his learned ways, he watched his master stare after the woman leaving, even long past she was out of view of the front window. He wondered aloud, "I suppose she didn't need the new coat for Mr. Townsend today?"

Hercules didn't turn around, but he stood fixed in his spot lost in his own thoughts. "No not today. I believe she'll convince the him to keep it."

Cato finished the man's measurements, told him that Mr. Mulligan will be right over, and strode over to the tailor who was still distracted and thinking to himself but now at the shop's counter looking over his own ledger. Bravely, the shop's assistant mumble quietly in inquiry.

"Seems like someone is again confusing the other Elizabeth for his wife…"

Hercules' smile abruptly fell, and looked to his assistant with solemn light eyes before whispered warningly, as warningly as a fighting Irishman could get, "That is private between you and me, Cato. And no, that Elizabeth was meant for another reb entirely."

"Not by what you claimed in the past—Yes sir," Cato smiled when Hercules gestured to the spice cakes Elizabeth left for them, gesturing for him to help himself as he returned to his tailoring with thoughts more than just on his rebel friends across the street.

..

Men's laughter boomed throughout the hallways of their rooms and echoed from down below when Robert returned to his room with a throbbing headache. Even when shutting the door behind him he lied his back flat against it. He made a vow just for today to hold off on the coffee so it wouldn't keep him up in order to keep his wits and sanity. At this rate today, he would be more than glad to fall asleep behind the accounting desk with eyes opened listening to Rivington's words as they go in one ear and out the other… His grandfather could fall asleep with his eyes open. As a young boy, Robert got the biggest kick out of it. And heavens would that be something he could cross off his list before he kicks the bucket… to do something out of the ordinary in his plain life… His thoughts halted there before he would do it again.

His wistful smirk of his childhood days dissipated, immediately returning to void of reality.

Without his wife present in their rooms, it would always feel like he was living alone back at the Boarding House. When Robert went to the washbowl to freshen up prior to taking a break in order to retrieve a customer's long outstanding bill from the drawer, the morose thought of ever being without Lizzy hit him like a shove to the ground. With her in his life ever since she appeared like an angel from on high, there was no void. With her, everything was well.

When he saw her re-enter the establishment and push back the hood of her cloak with her hair-styled in a French high roll… his face was unreadable to everyone in the room except by his Lizzy. His natural, albeit annoyed frown melted to a thin, tiny smile holding no snarky undertones as he inhaled sharply. Also quite thankful he was hidden from the waist down...

Governor Tryon in his usual seat mumbled to his colleague purposely loud enough for Robert to hear after taking in the Mrs. Townsend's new do', "Someone's going to be a lucky bastard tonight."

Now Robert sat in his desk chair comforting himself with the thought that his wife was finally eating something suitable for her nauseous stomach. Being gone for the entire morning, he thought that not like her to not say she would go have her hair redone. But perhaps it was a last-minute decision, and a decision he was eager to run his fingers through.

Except when she wasn't herself like this morning, he would have to step up more than ever to make things well.

But a trip to Maryland was out of the picture. As Robert unwittingly eyed the list of the many Charles Carroll's to exist that he compiled, he caught sight of the phials of invisible ink and reagent propped in a steady stand… the last thing he wanted to see.

Unpredictably, he slammed his hand hard against the desk to make it rattle, knocking over the phials perfectly but not enough to make them shatter or spill open. The Quaker furled his lip and bit the inside of his cheek in his brief fit of rage and returned shame that he'll never let escape him.

He groaned uncharacteristically aloud as his other hand, curled into a fist, hit the top of his desk on the other side—only affecting the hourglass and a single book.

When he stood up, he ripped his handkerchief out of his coat to 'carelessly' drape over the phials, then bend down to pick up the hourglass that toppled over. Yet when he doubled-back searching for a book he swore he heard fall against the wall as well, he noticed a small unfamiliar dark box on its side in the book's place.

Not a book.

The lid of the small squared box had fallen off, pinched between the chair leg and the desk.

It wasn't spy tools either.

Realizing it was a gift box, he touched the box and picked it up to see what was buried in the crinkled white paper. He curiously lifted the sheet only to nearly stop breathing. Unblinkingly he gawps down at a pair of tiny, white laced shoes smaller than his thumb. In that moment he felt his heart swell and palpitate with a sweet flutter.

Robert Townsend forgot where he was as he gasped and felt overcome with emotion. But also doubt, he didn't know what this was doing here or if it was even his—

The door opened and Elizabeth walked in on this scene with wide eyes. Removing her cloak, she barely had time to hang it before before Robert looked at her with an undecided expression, his nostrils exhaling noticeably from his previous mental breakdown, but a hopeful spark in his eyes.

"What happened in here?" She panicked with a frown.

"I knocked over some things… had a rough morning so I took a break. When I picked up—wha…what fell, I noticed this had fallen. It's shoes for a baby, darling. What are they doing here on my desk? Are they a gift for someone we know?"

"Yes, they are. I know." She nodded slowly, trying to hide her emotions to the best of her ability. "I thought you'd be at work all day; it was supposed to be a surprise tonight." The silence was deafening.

He gulped, his eyes heavy with tears, "They're for us? Are you… really?"

"They're sort of for us," now she couldn't hide the smile that lit up her face, "more for our little you or me. I'm pregnant," she whispered as she broke into a tearful smile then seeing his amazingly sweet reaction. "Two months."

His mouth gaped and he continued to not blink. "Two months. Your sickness…" Robert reached his hand up to his face, rubbing across his cheek and jawline as allowed the waves of joy he dreamed of finally consume him. "You didn't know up until now?"

"I figured around Christmas, but I wanted to be sure without worrying you—I could have just missed the date, you know—" Her start of relieved crying was cut off by his warm laughter.

"We did it! Oh Lizzy!" Then he darted right over to Elizabeth and picked her up in the air, spinning her in loud laughter of their own. When he sat her back to her feet, realizing how more careful they have to be now, they both started crying overwhelmed with excitement and joy.

"We have to write everyone in the family—I'll take off the rest of the day," Robert barely spoke as his chest shuddered with too many good feelings. "I'll take off the rest of my days."

"Please do," Elizabeth whispered helplessly, smiling into his cheek. Their faces nuzzled each other's until Robert engulfed her into a tight embrace, her head falling into his solid, comfortable, coffee-scented chest. "I would love that very much… I love you."

"I love you too. My dear Elizabeth," his warm breath blew against her skin, clutching the tiny knitted baby shoes in one hand. His eyes were open, more half-lidded in a dream like state, when his gaze shot back over to the splayed handkerchief on his desk covering invisible ink he still hasn't gotten rid of.

The Townsend's were lost in their own world that's starting to grow bigger, and crashing down at the same time now that Robert was understanding what was at stake on an entirely different level, and Lizzy had similar thoughts on what kind of future is coming.

"It is the new year and already everything is becoming sweeter. This isn't what I planned-" Robert silenced her with a deep kiss and he resumed it even though he was battling with his heart to tell her what's ailing him.

"But it's what we dreamed. The best things in life aren't planned," he murmured her exact inner thoughts into her ear trying to find reason, "just like now." He was still staring past the shoes in his hand to the vials sitting on his desk…

She pushed gently away from him to bounce on her feet and see his expressive face that's a rarity, "We must write my parents and your father as soon as you're back up here!"

"No, we'll make a trip instead," he shook his head as he went to the desk to show her the list of all of the Charles Carroll's to exist. Now his earlier thoughts changed from dark to light as he considered how big this was. "We can in fact travel in for the long weekend with business being slow." Robert hands her the paper to which she looked adorably interested but conflicted the more she read.

"And try for Maryland this time since you are early on."

Elizabeth immediately shook her head, "No. No, I can't risk it. We're not going to risk endangering my health, not again. We can't be on a bumpy road for that long there and back. It's still winter too."

Robert consoled her with his hands resting on the sides of her shoulders, "No one in this city knows your maiden name. If they ever did, you could easily be related to all of these other Charles Carrol's many of which support the King. If they find out you are of Carrolton, then you'll claim your place is by my side. It's plausible my dear."

"I don't want to go to Maryland, Robert. It's not safe—"

"I'll be armed and we can stay until you have the child if that is what you wish without having to worry about city life or anything of the like— I will not fail you again."

Her heart crushed painfully loud in her own ears. She looked up at her vulnerable husband who stared into her eyes with stinging desperation that momentarily replaced his tearful, beaming joy. He inhaled and exhaled loudly in their shared silence before he whispered similar to when he proposed to her.

In such a way that he held so much poise laced with fear that she would look the other way from him. Yes, he certainly did have this doubt on his knees before her despite all the words and moments they shared.

"Repeating my promise to you and your family is not what I need to say once more—" his eyes lowered and lips trembled containing a sob as he reached with the back of his hand to trail against her growing belly— "But I will never refrain from saying that all I want is your happiness."

Elizabeth hushed him gently and placed her hand on his cheek. She assured him with a shaky nod of her head, "They understand just as they know we are on our own. It's always been us, Robert. Just us, and I'm more than fine with that. I have never been happier than I am right now in my entire life."

"Ok," he whispered back after swallowing. Her words made him want to kiss her all over and take off of work the rest of his days as he just exclaimed aloud. Robert finally let joy finish consuming his entirety as he held her to him with steady arms, "We will write them every little thing dear…"

We…

A/N: This entire story is an emotional roller coaster for me. And how about that part with Hercules Mulligan, eh? What is he hiding? (Isn't he attractive by the way? His hair is glorious.)

And curious question, do y'all think I should write another TURN fanfic? Another Robert Townsend/OC? Maybe when this one is finished?

Thank you all for reading and reviewing, it means more than you know. Stay tuned! "Mended" is next.

-BrownEyedGirl87