August brought waves of heat from which there was little reprieve. I had thought tending the fires during the bitter cold of the northern winters would be the most miserable part of my eighteenth century life. But after spending three weeks with no air conditioning, I was willing to give up everything I owned for cold weather.

Connor being gone made the summer all the more miserable for me. He'd sailed off on the Aquila at the beginning of the month in an effort to keep the Atlantic safe from pirates. I had asked to accompany him, but I had only done it halfheartedly. So it didn't really bother me when he said no. He had given me a tour of his ship before he departed, though. I honestly didn't find it as impressive as he considered it to be. That was a fact I kept to myself. I knew it would hurt his feelings if I told him I wasn't that into something he took great pride in.

The house was far too stuffy to get anything done during the day, so I spent most of my time outside. Achilles didn't mind me being slack in most of my chores as long as I still made sure he was fed every meal. That was easy with the abundance of fresh produce from the late spring crops. I often visited our neighbors just to have something to do. I would help them out with things that needed to be done and take the boys swimming when it got too hot to breath. Sometimes Myriam would join us when she wanted a break. Her and I became close friends during that time. She was one of the few people I told about my relationship with Connor. I think everyone sort of knew we were a couple, but Myriam was the only one I related any details to. It was fun to have someone to gossip with. I'd never really had any friends before.

I lay my head against the muddy bank, not caring how dirty I got. I was too exhausted from the heat to worry about my hair.

"You alright, Faith?" Myriam asked me.

I opened my eyes and squinted at her. She was positioned exactly in front of the sun so all I really saw was the outline of short haired woman.

"I am so sick of this weather," I mumbled miserably.

"Is that all you're sick of?" she asked. I could hear the playfulness in her voice and knew she was grinning at me.

I flicked some water at her and forced a smile. I was far too irritated to banter about how I wasn't missing my boyfriend at the moment. It had been weeks since I'd had a good night's sleep. The warmth made it hard for me to even enjoy food. That made my mood even more foul.

I sat up and dunked my head under the water to clean myself off, then stood up. "I'm going home," I told Myriam.

She nodded at me, a vague expression of concern on her angular features. "See you tomorrow," she called as I wrapped my body in a blanket and began to walk away.

I waved at her from behind, not really feeling like talking.

The walk back to the manor seemed to take forever. I might would have went faster had I not been barefooted, but I doubt it. My legs just didn't want to carry my weight like they should. My steps were lethargic and annoyed.

I was glad when I finally made it to the shady pouch at the side of the house. I sat down on the swing I'd had Lance make me and relaxed in the light breeze. I don't remember closing my eyes. But I must have at some point. The next thing I remember is Achilles waking me late in the evening. I sat up straight and looked at the old man as he leaned over me.

"Sorry," I murmured.

"Are you ill?" he asked.

I shook my head, rubbing the tiredness from my eyes. "It's this stupid heat," I told him. "I hate it."

Achilles sighed and sat down beside me. "Has the summer always effected you in such a way?"

I shrugged. I honestly didn't remember. I guessed it probably would have if I hadn't had a cool place to retreat to. What I did remember was always preferring summer. I used to like to be out in the warmth, swimming or sunbathing. But I'd always had the luxury of electric fans, then. Now I didn't.

Achilles rocked the swing in a mild way that I found soothing. Almost too soothing. I felt like going back to sleep. I leaned over and rested my head on his shoulder, letting my lids droop. The old man didn't seem bothered by my action. He ignored it and looked at the distant cliff.

"Are you not hungry?" he asked after a moment.

I shook my head. I figured he was, or else he wouldn't be asking. It was almost dinner time. "What do you want?" I inquired.

Achilles glanced down at me. "You don't appear to be in the mood to cook," he stated. "I can fend for myself, you know."

I grinned. It was sweet that he was concerned with me. Even though he paid me, I didn't feel like he was my employer. I saw the money he gave me as an allowance, not a wage. I think he felt the same way. Otherwise he would have fired me a long time ago.

"You should go see Prudence," Achilles told me. I frowned at him. "I think you should tell her how you've been feeling. Maybe she will have some insight as to why you're unwell."

"It's just the weather," I said.

"Even so, I would like it if you knew that for sure."

After going back and forth a few times, I agreed to Achilles' suggestion. I only did it to make him happy, not because I wanted to. I thought he was being silly and overprotective. But now I think he knew what was really wrong. I'm certain that's why he told me to see Prudence, not Diana. He knew I could take the new better from a reserved person than someone who was a bit on the outspoken side.

Another reason I believe Achilles already knew I was pregnant is that he wasn't surprised when I told him. He accepted it like I was relating a fact he was aware of. It was a relief, really. I had thought he would be angry, but he wasn't. He wasn't happy. But at least he wasn't mad.

I only got up so early that morning because I had to use the bathroom. Any other day, I would have stayed in bed until late in the morning, as I had gotten prone to doing the last two months. I was so glad I woke up just as the sun was coming up. Not because it was a beautiful dawn – it truly was, the sky was a gorgeous pastel pink and orange – but because I noticed the presence of the Aquila at the harbor as I took a moment to view the sunrise. My heart pounded with joy at Connor being home.

With a large smile, I ran back upstairs and swung open the door to his bedroom. He was laying face down on the bed, still dressed save for his weapons belt and coat. His hair was a tangled, dirty mess. I don't think he'd washed since he'd left home. I didn't care how bad he smelled, though. I jumped on the bed next to him and threw my arms around his waist. He jerked and raised his head to look at me as I called out his name. His eyes only barely opened, but there was a tired grin on his face.

"When did you get home?" I asked.

"Um, late," he mumbled. "Or early. It was dark."

I curled up beside him and pulled his arm over me. After nine weeks apart, it felt wonderful to be with him again. Connor rolled onto his side, facing me and closed his eyes. I knew he was incredibly sleepy. I could tell by his face. But I really wanted him to wake up so I could spend time with him.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I asked.

"You were sleeping," he murmured groggily.

"That's the point of waking me up," I told him. "So I'm not sleeping."

Connor's only response was a tired groan.

"Hey," I called softly. "I need to talk to you."

Connor frowned, not opening his eyes. "Can it wait?"

I was getting irritated that he wouldn't wake up enough to speak to me in a normal tone. I found his uninterested grumbling annoying.

"No," I told him.

Connor sighed loudly. He turned on to his back, pulling his arm off of me. "Faith, please. I had a...difficult trip."

For some reason that angered me even more. I suppose it was because he hadn't considered what I had been through while he was away. He thought things had gone as they normally did. But they hadn't. Not for me. I was under a lot of stress, and I didn't feel like doling out sympathy when I wasn't getting any for myself.

"Leaving was your choice," I said bitterly. "No one asked you to go. You wanted to."

Connor finally opened his eyes. He gave me an irritated scowl. "I left because it was my responsibility," he spat. "I thought you understood that."

I snorted in a highly disrespectful way. It only served to anger him more. "You have responsibilities here, too!" I lashed out.

Connor glared at me, breathing rapidly through his nose. He gritted his teeth. "Leave," he said. "Please."

"Fine!"

I got up and started to leave the room as Connor turned toward the other side of the bed. I paused at the door and looked back at him.

"By the way, I'm pregnant!"

I slammed his door as hard as I could on my way out.