The night had grown chilly; gone was the unseasonable warmness of the last few days that brought with it the alluring hope of a mild winter. When the sun sank beneath the horizon, the last vestiges of autumn went with it, leaving in its wake a bitterly cold wind that had Lucy happily exchanging her thinly woven shawl for the woolen one now offered to her by Mrs. Poe.

As quickly as she dared, what with the muddy ruts dotting the landscape between the washroom and the house, Lucy made her way towards the brightly lit porch which was teeming with British officers dressed in their brilliant red uniforms. At her approach, the crowd parted for her, offering her a slight bow as she moved past them out of the cold night air and into the stuffy warmth of John Fraser's home.

The hall was filled with people; both soldiers and civilian alike…leaving Lucy to presume that the invitation to dinner had been extended, not just to themselves…but also to neighboring families whose homes and livelihoods had also probably benefitted from the presence and protection of the troops. As Lucy snaked her way through the throng, she half wondered how John Fraser would be able to accommodate all of these people at the dinner table, but the answer presented itself almost as soon as she stepped foot in the parlor where she was greeted breathlessly by Mary Fraser.

"Oh Lucy, there you are, my dear. I do hope you are feeling better. Mrs. Poe told me all about it," she said as she offered Lucy a slight hug in greeting before fanning herself, "Never you mind about this crowd…it will clear out as soon enough…we're just indulging in a bit of grog with the troops before we sit down to dinner with the officers." she explained, "The rest of the men will be dining outside…Cook has a nice, hearty stew prepared for them….ah, just the man, I was hoping to see!" she called, her attention now drawn to the surgeon Lucy had assisted not so very long ago. "And how was your trip up from Fort Cumberland, Dr. Hodges?"

"Tolerable." he replied with a slight bow, "the roads were dry and mercifully absent of any French hooligans or their Native allies – it's about all one can hope for these days."

"Indeed." Mary Fraser nodded solemnly before turning slightly to Lucy and offering, "You remember our dear friend, Lucy? She was of great use to you that awful night a few weeks back?"

"Oh yes," he replied, turning to Lucy, "How do you do ma'am…I trust your husband is on the mend?"

Lucy was just about to respond when Mary Fraser continued, "I wonder if you might take some time, sir and assure us of her health…she's been unwell, you see and…"

"Oh no, really…I'm fine…" Lucy assured, but her friend persisted in pressing the issue.

"It is better to be safe than sorry, dear." Mary Fraser quipped, "We have no apothecaries nearer than fifty miles from here and so I urge you to take advantage of the surgeon's presence while you can."

"I'd be happy to examine you." Dr. Hodges responded with a bow, "when did your malady start?"

"Really," Lucy dismissed with a shake of her head, "I'm fine…I was just…I got a little sick this morning because…"

But her attempt at explanation was interrupted by the ringing of the dinner bell, directing everyone's attention to the hall where Mrs. Poe was loudly directing the soldiers out to their make-shift mess tent. "No need to shove!" she barked as a few eager soldiers flew past her to the door, "There's plenty out there for all of you…take care you don't upset the tables!" she ordered before muttering in frustration, "Bunch of ruffians."

"Well, I suppose we should start making our way to the dining room," Mary Fraser suggested as she took Lucy by the arm, "at any rate it will pull the men away from the punchbowl and around the table. Come along, Dr. Hodges" she added as they made their way across the room, "John will be pleased to see you again."

Weaving their way through the crowd of young soldiers still making their way out of the house, Mary Fraser led Lucy to the double doors that marked the entrance to the large dining hall where already she could see a table laden with shimmering dishes and goblets filled with wine. She had only just crossed the threshold when she spied Wyatt, in deep conversation with John Fraser. More inclined to just make her way towards her seat rather than entertain Mrs. Poe's hope that tonight would be a chance for them to have a "redo" of their wedding rece, Lucy attempted to extricate her arm out of Mart Fraser's grip…but it was to no avail…as Wyatt had already turned at John Fraser's prompting and caught sight of her.

Just as she had feared, Wyatt was dressed in the same suit he had donned on their wedding day and while that was already enough to set her heart fluttering, it was nothing compared to the soft smirk he was now offering as he made his way towards her. Trapped, Lucy fidgeted anxiously…but if Wyatt noticed her uneasiness, he gave no indication. Instead, he bowed slightly and extended his hand towards her. Thinking he meant only to escort her to her seat himself, Lucy stepped forward, keeping her head down and had meant to just bypass him completely when he did something that caught her completely off-guard; rather than allowing her to pass, Wyatt grasped her hand in his and before she could even question him as to what on Earth he was doing…he smirked at her again and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Dumbfounded and a left a little light-headed by the gesture, Lucy stared back at him blankly, until Wyatt shrugged slightly and nodded with a meaningful look towards John Fraser who was offering Mary the same greeting.

Right. Just playing a role.

"You look…you look really nice." Wyatt muttered softly, leaning towards her.

"Huh?" Lucy asked blankly, nearly tripping on her skirts as she stepped slightly away from the group…and Wyatt. "Oh," she stammered, her face flushing as she fidgeted awkwardly at his side, "thanks…much better than I did this morning, anyway, right?" Lucy dismissed in a desperate attempt at nonchalance. Her allusion to her bout of sickness that morning, however, drew John Fraser's (unwanted) attention.

"And how are you faring, my dear? I understand from Mrs. Poe that you were taken ill again this evening."

All eyes on her now, including those of a concerned Wyatt, Lucy felt her face flush furiously as she again, attempted to dismiss any concern over her well-being, "Oh, that? No…I was…I was just feeling a little…really, I'm fine. We…we were just talking about…"

"Hodges." John Fraser interrupted with a nod to the doctor, "I hope we can avail you to see that our dear friend is in good health?"

"It's already been arranged, my dear." Mary piped up proudly, threading her arm through his. "Dr. Hodges has already agreed."

"Has he now?" John replied with a smile to his wife, "Well, " he added with a nod towards Wyatt, "No need to fear then, sir…your wife is in good hands."

Staring back at John Fraser in complete confusion, Wyatt shook his head, "Wh…agreed? What…what…" looking to Lucy for some explanation, he asked, "I thought you were fine?"

"I am." Lucy assured in obvious frustration, "It's just that…"

"As I explained to Lucy," Mary Fraser offered with a smile, "there's not an apothecary around here for fifty miles. I know it would ease my mind a great deal if she saw Dr. Hodges now that he's here among us…just to make sure all is well. With winter coming on especially, one can never be too careful."

Casting a curious look towards Lucy, Wyatt nodded in acknowledgement, "Oh…okay." he muttered, "I guess if it's not any trouble…"

"Oh no trouble at all, sir." he replied with a courteous bow, "After all of your assistance, it will be my honor."

"Which reminds me," John Fraser piped up, casting a knowing glance towards Mary, "We have a bit of a surprise for you two, seeing as how you didn't get a proper wedding night…" Horrified, Lucy began to protest, but she was dismissed by a genial wave of a hand, "No, no my dear, we insist on making it right. Your day of happiness was…well, to be quite frank, was ruined by that unseemly attack by the French. What should have been a night of celebration was…well, anything but."

"Yeah, but…" Wyatt began, but he too was interrupted by John Fraser, who clasped arm in friendship.

"I know what you're going to say, my good man." he said seriously to Wyatt, "And you're right…if you hadn't come to my aid, I wouldn't even be here…which is why I am determined to make it up to you this evening." Snapping his fingers, he waved towards one of his stewards stationed at the far end of the room. "The wine." he instructed him with a wink, before calling attention to the entire room, "Gather around everyone, please." He announced loudly, waiting until the murmuring subsided before continuing, "As you know, tomorrow we must bid farewell to our dear friends in His Majesty's Army. I know these past few weeks we have all been indebted to them for their service, their protection…their aid to our little community here and they will be sorely missed." A round of applause and a general murmur of assent rose from the crowd before he pressed on, "Indeed, that is why I have brought us all together here tonight…to say thank you and to wish you all the greatest of luck in your endeavors against the French. God willing," he added with a hearty laugh, "we'll be rid of them by Christmas."

Feeling a fresh wave of anxiety wash over her with that statement, Lucy gripped tightly onto Wyatt's arm…so tightly in fact, that he instinctively covered her hand with his free one in what Lucy could only assume was an attempt to comfort her. It had the opposite effect, however, as she was already dreading what John Fraser had in store for them…as a pair of "happily married newlyweds" cheated out of their "day of happiness."

"Oh God." Lucy moaned under her breath.

Hearing this, Wyatt one-upped his attempt to relieve her fears and began rubbing circles on the back of his hand with his thumb. "It's gonna be okay, Lucy." he whispered seriously. "We're gonna figure this out."

"How?" she hissed back at him, but before he could answer, the whole room was applauding rapturously, all eyes turned in their direction as John Fraser motioned for them to come forth Swallowing anxiously, Lucy stumbled forward, Wyatt following in her wake until they were standing beside John Fraser in front of the large fireplace just behind the head of the table where a bottle of fine wine was being opened by the steward.

…"No one can say that I am not a man of my word," John Fraser continued with a nod towards Wyatt, "when I took this couple in I had every intention of seeing that they were well looked after and cared for. As a Christian and a proud Englishman, I could do no less."

"Hear, hear" came a harmonious murmur from the crowd.

"I provided them a humble home and a chance to carve out a life for themselves here among us…but I must admit that it is they who have blessed me with their presence here far more than I have blessed them." Wyatt made to argue, but John Fraser continued, "I wouldn't be here, standing before you now if it weren't for our dear new friends here…nor would our home, or our land be ready for the coming winter without their significant aide." Pouring out a few goblets of the newly brought wine, he added, "This brave young man here neglected his own happiness, nay…even sustained his own dire injuries to come to our aide and to that I raise my glass in thanks."

Lifting his goblet, he toasted Wyatt who shifted awkwardly next to Lucy. A general murmur arose from the crowd as they too, lifted their goblets filled with grog and drank to Wyatt's health. "Really," Wyatt began, "it was the least I could do…"

"Nonsense, my boy." John Fraser replied slapping him firmly on the shoulder, "Leaving your wife on your wedding night to come to our aid? Working through your own injuries to make life easier for me and my farm? I knew you were a good man the moment I laid eyes on you…knew you'd bless me and my house in some way…and now," he added with a sigh, "it is time for me to bless you in return."

"Oh no, really," Wyatt began weakly, "You don't have to…"

"I have a friend," John Fraser pressed on loudly, "a very dear friend who owns a tavern in Williamsburg. I had the pleasure of hearing from him not so very long ago and felt compelled to request a favor that would benefit you and your dear wife." Smiling at Wyatt's stunned expression, he explained, "He is prepared to set you up in one of his best rooms for a fortnight…lodgings, meals…whatever it is you need he'll provide for you at my specific request."

"Oh we…we couldn't…" Lucy stated with a shake of her head, "It's…you've done so much for us already…."

"It's already been arranged." he dismissed with a wave of his hand, "You may leave as soon as you are able…however, with your wife feeling a wee bit sickly these days," he murmured almost to himself, "perhaps you'd do better to wait until the Spring." Casting a meaningful look at a bewildered Wyatt, he paused as if waiting for him to agree, but when he only received a few stammered words of confusion in return, he maintained, "Whatever you decide is best, you let me know and I'll see that Josiah is ready to receive you. Now," he said, addressing the room at large, "let's eat, shall we?"

They were separated somewhat at dinner, Wyatt sitting closer to John Fraser on side of the table and she, seated near to Mary just a bit opposite of them. Her entire being was a whirlwind of varying and competing emotions. Seeing Williamsburg, the capital of the largest colony in North America at that point in time…a place where Thomas Jefferson and George Washington frequently visited, the place where Patrick Henry would give his "Liberty or Death" speech in just about 20 years, the city which was home to Peyton Randolph, the man who would be the first President of the Continental Congress….it was everything she could ever ask for as a historian. To be able to spend two weeks exploring an epicenter of pre-Revolutionary America? To witness the pomp and circumstance that came with the Royal Governor…something that would never truly be seen again in this country after 1775?

But no…that's not why she was here…and that's not why she was going. One look across the table to where Wyatt was in deep conversation with John Fraser and the surrounding officers and her stomach tied up in knots again. A honeymoon. John Fraser was essentially sending them on a honeymoon. While she absolutely appreciated the sentiment, it was hardly a welcome one. She spent much of the first course desperately trying to catch Wyatt's eye…but found much to her utter frustration, that unlike her, he seemed to be completely unfazed by this latest development.

But then of course, Wyatt was always a bit more collected under stressful situations than she was.

She smiled to herself as she remembered those horrible hours before she was to be escorted into a Nazi castle with Ian Fleming. She felt alone, trapped…terrified…and Wyatt, even though he hardly knew her and even though she all but demanded that he follow suit with the plan she readily agreed to…he was somehow attuned to the fact that she was quietly falling apart.

So why the hell wasn't he realizing the same thing was happening to her now?

She coughed loudly in an attempt to draw his attention to her side of the table, but once again, was only met with frustration as Wyatt continued to converse with the men around him. With so many people laughing, chatting, eating….calling for more wine, Lucy could hardly blame him for not zeroing in on her attempt to catch his eye…but still, this was Wyatt and while she didn't begrudge him a chance to talk with someone other than her, she could hardly believe how attentive and talkative he was this evening. In fact, the few times she managed to catch snippets of his conversation, she found that it was uncharacteristically animated. Wyatt, always so stoic and serious on missions…hating the role playing she always insisted they maintain…seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

But why?

Maybe, Lucy mused, it was because of the grog. True, she hadn't really seen him partake of anything before dinner…but she knew it was more or less a military tradition. That, along with the free-flowing wine had probably set his own discomfort at ease while she was still reeling.

As a solider too, Lucy considered, Wyatt probably had a lot more in common with the men currently surrounding him than he did with either her or Rufus. After so many months away from his Delta Force team, he was probably grateful for the chance to be among people he could relate to…even if he couldn't really talk much about his own experiences.

Lucy was content to just sit and marvel at Wyatt's cool and calm demeanor, but John Fraser, seeing her eyes continually dart over in their direction, soon pulled her into their conversation, "I was just telling your husband he would do well to get a commission in His Majesty's army, he has proved himself capable and brave…I hardly think it would take any time at all before he would be awarded his own regiment. What say you, my dear?" he nodded to her, "Wouldn't he make a fine soldier?"

"Certainly." Lucy replied with a wry grin, "If you like reckless hotheads, that is." she added as a smirking Wyatt pressed his wine goblet to his lips.

"Well there's nothing wrong with a bit of recklessness in battle, is there?" John Fraser announced to a group of cheering officers, "I dare say, I for one am grateful for his recklessness as you call it…he saved my leg and life that night. Seriously, my boy…why not? A commission would set you up nicely." he explained to Wyatt, "You could afford a fine place in the city, move in the best circles…the frontier is an exciting place, to be sure but the perils here are too numerous, especially for such a fine lady as your wife."

"I prefer the country." Wyatt replied with a shrug, though Lucy could see a slight flush rising in his cheek.

"Ah, but does she?" John Fraser asked more to Lucy than to Wyatt. "Come, my dear…you must help me convince your man – he would be a welcome and glorious addition to our Army."

"Are you that ready to get rid of us?" Lucy asked as she took a small sip of wine.

"Not at all…"

"Indeed, my dear…you sound as though you are quite ready to be rid of them." Mary retorted beside Lucy, "Encouraging him to join the army, when you know very well, he's a Quaker."

Lucy coughed into her napkin as Wyatt smirked at her from across the table.

"Besides, it would hardly be in our best interest to send them off just now." she added, patting Lucy's hand with her own. "With our guests leaving for Cumberland tomorrow and your leg still not fully mended...I know I would sleep much better knowing that there is someone nearby who is capable of handling a raiding party."

A general murmur of assent arose from the table, but John Fraser was not moved. With a heavy sigh, he pressed on, "We must not be so selfish to keep them from doing what is best for their situation, my dear. What kind of friends would we be to keep them from pursuing fortune in a place more suited to their needs? Besides, my love," he continued gently, "I have long been considering our own situation…more particularly these last few weeks since our visit from the French."

Mary's brow furrowed in concern as she looked towards her husband….and so did Lucy's. "Whatever do you mean, my dear?"

John Fraser looked around the table uncomfortably, all eyes on him as he straightened in his seat and gave a little cough, "It's nothing my dear…I was just thinking that…well, as you rightly pointed out, we'll soon be without the protection we've enjoyed these past few weeks and after such a close call, I feel it may be necessary for us to remove ourselves from the fray as it were. I can hardly expect our friends here to look after us anymore than they already have, after all…

"It's no trouble." Lucy blurted out loudly, "Really, it's fine…we're happy to do whatever we can to help." She added with a meaningful nod at Wyatt, "Right…sweetheart?"

"Uh…uh...yeah, I mean..." Wyatt responded, bewildered by her sudden outburst….and a little thrown off kilter by her endearment. "If you need help, I have no problem..."

"But I have." John Fraser responded quietly, "You have your own family to consider, you needn't be bothered with mine." When Wyatt made to argue at Lucy's silent urging, he spoke over him, "I have given it a great deal of thought. After losing Jane, I considered quitting this place for a less savage land…but I felt duty bound to my fellows here." He said as he motioned towards the rapt faces staring at him from the log table. "My goods, my guns…they rely on them, you see. How could I leave? No, I considered it part of my penance…for failing my wife and unborn child…to stay here and suffer through the hells of the frontier, alone…to fight off the savages that had taken them from me." He smiled softly, "And then came Mary." He bowed his head towards his new wife and lifted his goblet, "I never expected to find love again…out here of all places…but God has been very good to me. He gave me a second chance at happiness and I cannot discount it. I must do better by her, keep her safe…until the French are no longer a threat to our lives here."

Wyatt looked helplessly towards Lucy who, he was surprised to find, looked as if she were about to have some kind of fit. He had no idea why she looked so upset – to him, John Fraser was making a very reasonable decision. Injury or no, living out here, especially after the horrific death of his pregnant wife, trying to start over with a new one with that same danger still hanging over your head? No. Wyatt felt that if he was in the same situation, he would do the same thing. He was about to mouth his question of "Why?" to her when John Fraser suddenly slapped his hand on the table with a laugh, startling him.

"I say, we are a dreary lot this evening." he barked out, "We mustn't dwell on past ills, but look instead to a hope for the future." he cried to a rousing chorus of "Hear, hear" from the table at large. "And that includes you, sir." He added with a wink towards Wyatt, "I hope you will consider allthat I said. It is a hard life out here on the frontier…harder still when you have a family to look after."

"Yeah," Wyatt responded uneasily, still looking at Lucy who was communicating her opposition to the whole thing through meaningful, yet very slight shakes of her head, "but…I …I mean, we…."

"My dear, you're awfully pale." John Fraser interrupted turning with real concern towards Lucy, "Are you still unwell? James," he called, "fetch her another glass of wine."

"No." Lucy nearly shouted, taking the entire table of dinner guests aback, "No, please…" she assured in a softened tone, "I…just…"

"Some tea, then." John Fraser pressed, nodding to Mrs. Poe who promptly escaped to the kitchen, but not before casting a sympathetic look in Lucy's direction. "I tell you, son" he continued, with a nod to Wyatt, "as much as I enjoy having you here among us, you really ought to consider your wife. Here, we have so few comforts, it can be hard for someone as delicate as she to adjust to the way we live out here." he explained as Wyatt cast an amused look in a bristling Lucy's direction. "You are, of course, welcome to my home and everything in my stores, as you always have been…but if we were to leave, it would make me rest easier knowing that you both were also out of harm's way."

"I appreciate that." Wyatt maintained, still looking to Lucy for some guidance, "but…"

"My lad, I hardly need tell you what it is to lose someone you love…but to lose a child as well? Do not set yourself up for that kind of pain." he added with a meaningful nod towards Lucy, "Do not make the same mistake I did. The moment I found out about Jane's condition I should have quitted for Philadelphia or at the very least Baltimore."

Lucy stared across the table, a terrible realization suddenly forming in her mind, as she sat listening to a conversation she was powerless to stop. "Here, my dear," Mrs. Poe cooed in her ear, as she set the mug down in front of her, "some more ginger root tea…it will set you right again in no time at all."

"Oh God." Lucy muttered, feeling absolutely stupid that she had somehow failed to see this coming. Apart from being "newly married" to Wyatt and having those kinds of expectations automatically thrust upon them, her laziness this morning coupled with her lack of…issue had already apparently drawn a suspicion from Mrs. Poe. Add to the fact that John Fraser had literally seen her get sick…that morning and her place back on the rumor mill circuit had been dutifully secured. In a panic, she darted her eyes towards Wyatt, hoping that she could give him a clue as to what was happening before he was completely blindsided by it…but he was being polite and had his full attention on John Fraser who at that moment was praising the thoughtful ingenuity of Mrs. Poe's tea choice.

"Ah yes, ginger root…" he nodded in approval, "I dare say it will do her a world of good. When my Jane was early on with our child, nothing could assuage her discomfort more." Lucy sucked in a breath and buried her face in her napkin, unable to even glance in Wyatt's direction as the dreaded conversation plowed on, "I tell you," John remarked proudly to Wyatt, "I wouldn't know what we would do without her. She always knows just what to do for anyone's ailments."

"That's…that's great." Wyatt said with some hesitation, seemingly confused by the bend of the conversation and Lucy sighed heavily with relief, Maybe if she just changed the subject, she could get the focus off of her and her apparently suspected condition and give Wyatt a little heads up before…

"And your wife has the added benefit of Hodges." John Fraser cried out, "He'll see that she is alright…it's always a wee bit terrifying in those early days, especially when you haven't experienced the sickness and trials that come with pregnancy."

Lucy's face flushed violently as she shrunk down in her chair in shame and mortification at the sound of Wyatt choking and gasping on the sip of wine he had apparently and unfortunately partook of before John Fraser dropped that particular bombshell. She could feel Wyatt's eyes on her, but there was no way she could return the favor. Not with everyone at the table now thinking they were about to become parents.

"There's no need to look so surprised," John Fraser chuckled at the astonished look on Wyatt's face, "You're in lonely country here –if there are any secrets among us, they won't be kept for long." Patting him on the shoulder with fatherly affection, he added, "Which is why I must continue to implore you to look after your wife and family. Williamsburg would be far more ideal for her than these God-forsaken lands. There, she will be well looked after. My Jane, God rest her, never brought our child to term…the savages had her before she was due to give birth. Learn from my mistake, lad. Take up lodgings in a safer situation - at least until she's safely delivered, by then - God willing, this coming war may be over."

"I…I…" Wyatt stammered, casting nervous glances between John Fraser and Lucy, who absolutely would not look at him. "What…what?"

"Just think on what I said, lad." John Fraser replied with a nod, "I know you desire a life on the frontier and that your Quaker upbringing might make a life in the service of the King morally objectionable for you, but you clearly have the skills to be a fine officer and with a family to look after, it is something worth considering…and I hope," he added in a voice of utmost solemnity, "you will consider it."

Too mortified to even think about touching her dinner now, Lucy spent the rest of the meal in silence, not daring to even glance in Wyatt's direction, though more than once she could sense his eyes on her, boring into her as if he could read every concealed corner of her heart.

When the dinner party finally, mercifully, Lucy made a beeline for the door, desperate to hide out in some remote corner of the house until she and Wyatt could make their escape back to their own home…though she wasn't sure, after that conversation that she even wanted to do that. It was bad enough that they were both suffering through this charade of being married when they actually weren't…but now to add a fake pregnancy to the mix?

Oh she didn't even want to think how upset Wyatt was going to be.

Ducking into the parlor with the other ladies, Lucy planned to spend the rest of the evening as far away from Wyatt as possible…if anything but to stifle any idea that there was any truth to these silly rumors. She fully expected Wyatt to continue on with the men – he would understandably want to keep his distance as well…especially after enduring what had to have been the most uncomfortable and awkward conversation of his life. Further, he had seemed genuinely happy in the company of the soldiers and maybe just maybe he would join them all at the grog and forget this ever happened. However, no sooner had she weaved her way into the darkest corner of the room, then Wyatt was at her side, hissing in her ear, "You couldn't have given me a heads up? What the hell was that about?"

"Me? You think I told them I was pregnant?" she hissed back, rounding on him, but found, much to her surprise, that Wyatt, far from being angry and mortified was….

"You're laughing." she observed flatly. "Why are you laughing? You think this is funny?"

"Hell yes, I think it's funny." Wyatt chuckled handed her a wine glass, "Man, you weren't kidding - the way these people jump to conclusions…" he shook his head and offered her a sideways glance, nudging her arm playfully, "you gonna be okay? Being so delicate and all?"

"Very funny." Lucy grumbled at him, rolling her eyes. "You know you could have just told them I wasn't pregnant and to mind their own business."

"So could you." Wyatt replied with a shrug, "I'm kind of surprised you didn't…unless there really is something you're not telling me." he teased, which earned him a jab in the ribs. Far from deterring Wyatt, it only seemed to encourage him further. Offering his arm, Wyatt pressed, "Come on, ma'am…you're not hiding in here all night. If I have to go out there, you're coming with me…for better or worse, remember?"

"You don't actually expect me to…to…"

'To what?" Wyatt shrugged, "Enjoy a party? Lucy, you're gonna have a lot more people talking and hovering over you all night if you sit in here acting like…."

"Like what?" Lucy spat out accusingly.

"Like this is the worst thing in the world…hell, they already think you're sick." he observed wisely.

'So?"

"So the best thing to do," Wyatt explained as he offered her his arm, "is to act like everything is absolutely fantastic. They won't have reason to worry…and you won't be stuck drinking tea instead of wine." he added with a small wink. "Good thing for you, they don't seem to give a damn about mixing alcohol and pregnancy these days."

At that, Lucy downed her wine glass and handed it back to Wyatt with a grimace who was still holding out his arm expectantly. "Ugh…fine." Lucy grunted, shoving her arm roughly through his as he led her back into the throng of officers and nosy neighbors. "But if one person starts talking about how delicate I am," she added with a meaningful hiss, "I'm walking back home…alone."

"Fair enough." Wyatt replied with a smirk as they made their way into the crowded lounge where they were immediately surrounded by well-wishers eager to express their congratulations. Following Wyatt's lead, Lucy smiled and nodded her head, saying nothing to either refute or confirm their claims, merely thanking them for the concern for her health and wishes for their continued happiness. Earlier this evening, just the thought of having to put of a stage play as man and wife for a room full of strangers had set her reeling, yet now standing arm and arm with Wyatt, it seemed the easiest thing in the world. Maybe it was the wine…or maybe after living and sleeping next to Wyatt for countless weeks they had just settled into a familiarity that didn't make this quite as awkward as she had feared. Still, though Lucy knew that she and Wyatt were on completely different planets in regards to their feelings for one another, and though she knew darn well that this was just playing a role, even she had to admit that she had never seen him play it quite so well.

The entire evening, Lucy was surprised by Wyatt's thoughtfulness and gallantry. She had been so busy studying up and perfecting her role as an 18th century housewife, she hadn't noticed or even realized that Wyatt had apparently been studying up on a few things of his own. He seemed to be aware of every protocol, every act of deference that should be shown. He waited, for example, to be introduced to someone he didn't know before approaching them with conversation. Likewise, he seemed to understand his role, making sure that when an introduction was made towards him, he passed that same introduction on to Lucy, doing the honors to acquaint her with whomever it was standing before them at the time. If he wasn't talking her up to any number of their new associates, he was confirming her virtues as supplied by the ever gracious and kind John Fraser, who made it a point to see that everyone was enjoying themselves and getting better acquainted. She hardly knew whether Wyatt was being serious or not and there was no way she could tear her eyes from off of the floor to assure herself of his sincerity. Instead, in those times she merely offered him a demure smile and muttered continually, "Thank you, Wyatt."

His repeated response, spoken in a voice so low and rumbling she could almost feel it resonate within her, was always the same, "Sure thing…ma'am."

Ma'am.

It seemed like so long ago now since he had first lobbed that term towards her – irritating her to no end. His continued use of it, she knew, was done to get under her skin….at least, at first. But now? Now it carried with it something a bit more personal and intimate…something that was just them. She would never allow anyone else to call her that, and Wyatt, it seemed, was very much aware of that fact. Instead of filling her with indignation, now that term – uttered softly and impishly as it was now, filled her with something else entirely which, when coupled with his flowing compliments and his steady, strong arm cradling her own, had her face flushing furiously from more than just wine.

Still, she was determined not to get caught up in the charade. This was just a role, after all…and no matter how she felt about Wyatt, nothing had changed that fact that for him, Jessica was the only woman he could ever love. Desperate to regain some semblance of composure, Lucy resolved to push her mounting feelings down and meet Wyatt's compliments with a few of her own. If he could shower her with praise without feeling self-conscious, then she should be able to do the same. At the next opportunity for doing so, she gushed to one of the officers about Wyatt's selfless bravery, how he had, after almost being killed by the French, took on all of Fort Duquense on his own, just to save her. The moment her retelling of Wyatt's heroics was finished, however, she most heartily regretted saying anything at all. The boyish, dimpled grin that spread across Wyatt's face when she had finished nearly made her heart stop. She immediately dropped her gaze back to her feet, feeling completely defeated and unequal to the nearly impossible task of looking at Wyatt without swooning.

As the party began to thin out, Wyatt muttered something about going home themselves and while Lucy was more than ready to stop being forced to play a role that was every moment endangering her heart, she couldn't help but feel a small tinge of regret that the night…which had started off with so much mortification…was at an end.

Despite everything, she had had a good time…and that was in no small measure because of Wyatt. Instead of being completely horrified at the news that their hosts believed Lucy to be pregnant, he had merely shaken it off and embraced the rumor good-naturedly, encouraging Lucy to do the same. This, after just weeks ago telling her that her mere presence was suffocating him. Yes, he had apologized for that…but given that he hadn't even wanted this marriage, the fact that he was now brushing off suggestions that they were now expecting a child…

"You ready?" Wyatt asked as he handed her her cloak. "John's got a wagon waiting for us," he explained as he led her towards the back door, "Have to admit," Wyatt said as they approached the open door, feeling the bitterly cold wind , "I wasn't looking forward to walking home in all of this." He paused at the door, turning to Lucy in concern, "You sure you're going to be warm enough?"

Lucy looked down at her fine blue dress, perfectly suitable for the mild autumn afternoon of their arrival when she had first donned it, but hardly acceptable now with the fierce driving wind howling through the wooden columns of John Fraser's home. She pulled her woolen cloak tighter over her shoulders, "It's not very far…" she attempted, but Wyatt already seemed to determined to play the part of gallant husband once again.

"Is there a blanket or quilt we could borrow?" he asked Mrs. Poe who was just then handing him a container filled to the brim with dried ginger root, "It's awfully cold out there now and I don't think that cloak is going to be enough to…"

"I dare say you're right." Mrs. Poe agreed heartily, eyeing Lucy's light gown with an appraising glance. "Wait here."

While Lucy wanted to roll her eyes at Wyatt's sudden transformation from reluctant to doting husband, she was grateful to not be riding home shivering under the few woolen threads that made up her shawl. It was only a short ride yes, but being that cold and with Wyatt sitting next to her, she figured it might prove to be too much temptation not to turn to him for added warmth.

Which, now that she came to think of it, might have been the reason for his request for the quilt.

Maybe he had had quite enough of the role playing for one night.

With that somewhat comforting, yet painfully disappointing thought in mind, Lucy allowed herself to be handed up onto the small wagon bench, a large warm quilt wrapped about her as she took her seat next to Wyatt who was shaking John Fraser's hand and promising a return of the wagon, quilt and mule the next morning. A moment later, they set off down the well-worn trail, the usual, hard packed and smooth road, now a rutted muddy mess, jostling them to and fro as they slowly made their way home.

They hadn't gotten very far when Wyatt observed wryly, "I should have known you'd keep that quilt all to yourself."

"Oh." Lucy startled, "I'm sorry, I didn't…I thought you got this for me?"

"I did." Wyatt responded with a shiver, "but I thought you'd share. Stupid, I know….I mean, you steal the covers every night."

Sighing at his dramatization and over exaggeration of her sleeping habits, Lucy relinquished a portion of the quilt and handed it over to Wyatt, who one upped the situation entirely and tucked her close beside him. A more hopeful and romantically minded person might have been completely undone by such a gesture, but Lucy was determined not to be carried away. No. As wonderful as it felt to be snuggled next to Wyatt, under a perfectly star lit sky, this was really no different than any of the number of times they had clung to one another for warmth since arriving in this century.

It didn't mean anything.

"Well, that was an interesting evening." Wyatt observed, a low chuckle resonating in his chest.

Here it comes, Lucy thought. He had abstained from showing his aversion to their whole messy situation all evening and now, now he was going to vent. "If I had known they had even the slightest suspicion…" she began apologetically, "Really, Wyatt…I…I didn't know. I mean, it's silly to say that now…I mean, why wouldn't they think…we're supposed to be married and….and well, it's not like they would have any reason to not…."

"Lucy," Wyatt interrupted, "what the hell are you apologizing for?"

Lucy turned and stared back at him incredulously, "I just thought…well, I didn't…." He raised his eyebrows at her, in apparent expectation of something that resembled a coherent answer, but she had none to give. Instead, she let out a heavy sigh of exasperation and explained, "I just…I'm sorry that this whole thing has to be so awkward…because of, you know…nosy neighbors and 18th century expectations."

"Some of those expectations aren't just relegated to the 18th century, ma'am." Wyatt said with a chuckle. "Ask anybody who gets married in the 21stcentury…it comes with the territory. Always has."

"So, you're really not upset by all of…of that?" Lucy asked hopefully turning towards him once more. "That wasn't at all uncomfortable for you?"

"No." Wyatt shrugged, "Why would it be?"

"Because" Lucy responded incredulously, "we're not…I mean, we haven't…"

"Exactly." Wyatt responded with a nod, "Which is why I just thought it was funny." He glanced sideways at her as they made a small turn in the road, "Why are you so bothered by it?"

Lucy started at his question. Why was she so bothered by it? Like Wyatt, she knew all of these ridiculous suppositions and rumors were just that…ridiculous. She and Wyatt were just playing a role…pretending…and as a supposedly married couple, why wouldn't their well-meaning neighbors suspect that they would soon be adding to their little family? As Wyatt said, it was just something that came with the territory…something people generally expect…there wasn't any real harm in it.

Except there was. Or at least…she thought there was.

"I'm not bothered by it." she maintained against Wyatt's obvious disbelief, "I'm not," she reiterated strongly, "I just thought that you might be and I didn't want this to…" she trailed off not wanting to reopen the old wounds of their fight from just a few nights prior, but Wyatt would not let her off so easily.

"You didn't want this to, what?" he asked, fully looking at her now.

"It's nothing." Lucy dismissed, before continuing with some hesitation, "I just…I know this isn't the most ideal situation for you, that's all. It's hard enough having to pretend to be married to me…this was just one more thing…"

"Lucy," Wyatt breathed out in exasperation, "I told you I was sorry about that…"

"I know, I know." she quickly dismissed, "but Wyatt…"

"Lucy, there's two of us in this, okay? What affects you…affects me and vice versa - Whether we like it or not." he added with a scoff, before nudging her with gently with his arm, "Listen, if…if it's all the same to you, I would just like to have a redo on this whole thing. I think we can both agree that we didn't really start this out on the right foot…I mean, the whole first two weeks of our "marriage" I was completely out of it…literally."

"Well, whose fault was that?" she replied playfully, "You had to go off and be a reckless hothead…". Wyatt let out a small chuckle in response before Lucy added, observing, "Looks like you earned yourself another reputation here in the 18th century, soldier…they're even trying to draft you."

"Too bad I'm a Quaker." Wyatt replied glibly to which Lucy burst out laughing.

"I don't know how you kept a straight face through dinner," she gasped out, wiping tears of amusement from her eyes, "Why on Earth did you tell them you were a Quaker?"

"I didn't." Wyatt answered defensively, "Just like everything else, they assumed I was…" He chuckled lightly and shook his head, "Could you imagine, though? Me as a British soldier?"

"Well, you'd be in good company. George Washington, himself, started off as a British Lieutenant, you know." she reminded him.

"I don't know…I mean, knowing what's going to happen here in a few years…"

"Well it doesn't matter anyway." Lucy shrugged, "By then, we'll be long gone…" she paused, "I mean, we'll be home…hopefully. I…didn't mean…I mean, if we never did get back, I would hope we would still…we would still be…you know…"

"Yeah." Wyatt replied dryly, his voice having lost all of its teasing lightness in the face of their uncertain future.

An awkward silence, broken only by the jostle of the wagon and creak of the wheels, descended between them, making Lucy regret she had ever alluded to anything so depressing as their ever- present predicament. She was inwardly berating herself, desperately trying to think of something, anything else to talk about when she suddenly remembered how talkative Wyatt had been at dinner. "You um…really seemed to be enjoying yourself tonight." she attempted with some hesitancy, "I don't think I've ever seen you talk so much in all the time I've known you."

She glanced up at Wyatt's face, just in time to see him roll his eyes and flash a half smirk her way, "I talk." he muttered defensively.

"Hardly." Lucy shot back teasing as the wagon slowed to a stop outside of their cabin. As Wyatt clambered down and began securing the animal to the hitching post, Lucy continued, "You're usually too focused on the mission to sit around and chit chat…I just don't remember ever seeing you so animated on mission before."

"Well, maybe that's because this really isn't a mission, is it?" Wyatt responded as he helped Lucy down. "I mean, technically, I guess it is…but seeing as we're not chasing Flynn all over the damn place and we're not exactly in any immediate danger. I don't know," he shrugged, "I guess it was nice to sit back and relax for a change."

"Mmmm," Lucy mused as he opened the door for her, "I just was surprised that's all…I couldn't imagine what on Earth you could have to say to a bunch of 18th century soldiers."

"Nothing in particular." Wyatt dismissed as he bent over the fire, and began stoking it back to life, filling the room with a cheering warmth. "We talked mostly about camp life…living out of doors…hunting…that kind of thing."

Lucy nodded as she stepped behind the screen Wyatt had built up for her to change, calling to him as she stepped out of her skirt and began working the fasteners on her bodice, "Well, I'm glad you found something to talk about. I never know what to say when I'm around all of those women…we have almost nothing in common…you, at least, had other soldiers to talk to."

"Yeah…" Wyatt said again, absent mindedly poking at the fire until a grunt from Lucy called his attention to the screen she had retreated behind, "You need help?" he asked.

"Just with the corset….it's the one that laces in the back…I forgot this dress isn't as easy to get in and out of as my others." Stepping out from behind the screen, Lucy held her nightgown over her front and turned her back to Wyatt, hating that she was dependent on him to get her out of her clothes. "I don't think it's very tight," she said almost apologetically, "it's just…I can't quite reach the knot."

"I got it." he replied as he got to his feet and made his way towards her. She could feel his presence behind her, but it was several seconds before she finally felt his hands work the strings of her corset…and even then, his movements were slow, calculated…drawing out the process much longer than it needed to be. Her heartbeat quickened, her face flushed and her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the restrictive garment give way and Wyatt's hand still ghosting over the small of her back.

"You know," came a loud voice from somewhere above them, "if I had known you two were going to making this much racket when you finally came in from your boring white ass party, I would have slept in the barn. As it was, I really didn't feel like walking in the freezing cold…but if you two would rather be alone…" They exchanged awkward glances with one another before she wordlessly slipped back behind the screen to finish changing and he rolled his eyes at Rufus who was wearing the biggest shit eating grin he had ever seen and peering at him from over the top of the loft ladder. "So," Rufus continued meaningfully, "how was your night?"

"It was fine." Wyatt muttered grumpily, turning once more to the fire with a frown. "I thought you were going back to the barn with Tom tonight? Didn't you have all those gears and things to make?"

"You think I wanted to walk…walk back to the barn in this weather? Hell no. Besides, I thought I'd be nice and keep your fire going so you wouldn't be frozen solid by the time came back yourself. Figured it was the least I could do after that nice chicken dinner you fixed for us. Didn't think you'd be out all night." he added as he leapt down from the loft and stood over Wyatt, still smirking at his friend before adding in a voice so low that only Wyatt could hear, "But I guess you didn't need me to keep things warm for you…looks like you were doing a pretty damn good job of doing that yourself."

"Will you…"Wyatt hissed at him in irritation, but at that moment Lucy stepped out from behind the screen, donning her long night gown and looking only slightly self-conscious. "So how was your dinner, Rufus?" she asked in a feeble attempt at non-chalance.

"It was delicious. How was yours?" he asked, casting a devilish glance towards Wyatt, whose eyes were still fixed on the fire he was miserably poking. "Big party like that, I'm sure you had a nice old spread…."

"Oh yeah," Lucy replied with a shrug as she busied herself with putting her dress, petticoat and corset away, "We had a butternut squash soup and some….what I think was pheasant….and some nice boiled greens with new potatoes and homemade rolls…"

"No dessert, though – huh?" Rufus asked casting another sly grin towards Wyatt.

The Delta Force soldier cast a murderous glance towards Rufus but said nothing. Lucy, however, responded as she began preparing a kettle for tea, "I think there's some spice cake left from the other morning when Mrs. Poe stopped by," Lucy motioned towards a basket above the fireplace, "You're more than welcome to have some if you want." She said with a sigh as she hung the kettle on the wrought iron swing arm next to the fireplace and swiveled it over the flame.

"Don't mind if I do." Rufus said with more than a little delight as he stepped over Wyatt and fetched the basket down and uncovered the contents with a sigh, "Oh man, that Mrs. Poe may be a pain in the ass, but she can bake better than anybody I've ever known…including my own mother." Moving to the table, he placed the slab of bread on the rough surface and began slicing off pieces for the three of them.

Lucy, meanwhile, was preparing a mug with tea, calling out to the other two, "Would either of you like any of this? It's lavender and chamomile…it helps me sleep." Both Rufus and Wyatt grunted in the affirmative and while she set to work on their mugs, Wyatt got to his feet and took his seat at the table, but not before "accidentally" shoving Rufus as he passed by.

"I'm guessing you didn't have a great time at the party, then, huh?" Rufus asked with appointed look towards Wyatt, "What, if you didn't even stay for dessert."

"It wasn't that." Lucy said with a smirk, but one glance towards Wyatt communicated how he felt about letting Rufus in on the rumors that had swirled around them all evening. "Wyatt, actually had a better time than I did." she observed instead, as she began filling mugs with hot water.

"You don't say?" Rufus exclaimed in surprise, turning towards Wyatt, "Well that's…unexpected."

"Why is it so unexpected?" Wyatt huffed out, annoyed. "Am I really that…"he paused as Lucy and Rufus exchanged amused looks with one another and rolled his eyes, "Ugh…I'm going to bed…"

"No, no…" Lucy urged, laughing slightly as she pulled him back down to his chair by the sleeve of his shirt, "We're just teasing you, Wyatt. I, for one, think it's great that you had someone else to talk to, other than the two of us, I mean." She coughed as she lifted her mug to her lips and took a sip of her tea, "And the fact that you and John Fraser seem to be such good friends…"

"Yeah, well…it's kind of hard not be." Wyatt admitted with a solemn nod, "He's a good man…and then of course, there's the whole…". He shifted uncomfortably in his chair frowning slightly as he mused over his thoughts, "I never thought that out here…in the middle of nowhere 1754…I'd find somebody I could relate to and understand as well as John Fraser." He shook his head with a scoff, "Meeting him…changed my whole outlook on life."

Lucy looked up at Wyatt sharply, with almost a pained expression on her face as Rufus pressed seriously, "Wow, man….I had no idea. I mean, I knew he saved our lives out here and everything but…"

"His wife was killed a little over a year ago." Wyatt explained softly, "He had let her go off without him…and a raiding party of French and Indians murdered her….and their unborn baby," Wyatt added with a glance towards an uneasy Lucy. "He had every reason in the world to give up…stop living…but he didn't."

"Well, neither did you." Rufus provided, but Wyatt silenced him with a sad kind of look.

"The point is, he was able to move on – despite the guilt, despite the pain…you know? And, well…I just…you have to admire someone who does that." He smiled a little to himself as he thought over the words John Fraser had spoken to him not so very long ago when he had asked him how he could be married to someone else, without feeling like somehow you were betraying the memory of the person you had failed. Another part of you still has to live, my boy…even with the guilt of knowing that things might have been different…if you had been there."

"I guess." Rufus agreed with a shrug, "But out here, death is just a way of life, you know? That's why these people get married so early and so quickly…no time to be wasting when your life expectancy is only about 40 years, right?"

Lucy gave a half-hearted smile and returned to her mug.

"Well, maybe that's why they had things figured out better than we do." Wyatt replied as he nursed his own mug of tea, "They appreciated the fact that time was…fleeting. Kinda hard for us to grasp that same concept when we've got a damn time machine." With a nod towards Lucy, Wyatt remarked, "And Mary…well, she's just great, isn't she?"

Lucy glanced up slightly, not quite meeting Wyatt's eye as she nodded, "Oh, yes…she's…she's wonderful. Selfless, understanding, patient…kind."

"She saved his life, you know?" Wyatt muttered, casting a sideways glance towards Lucy. "He told me…sitting right here, how lost he was when Jane died, how he never expected to find happiness again…and how grateful he is for her for giving him that second chance."

"Yes," Lucy replied quietly, her eyes still fixed on the table in front of her as Wyatt continued.

"I thought he was nuts for staying here, after he told me what had happened with Jane" Wyatt explained to Rufus, "I mean, how on Earth could you move on with anybody in the same place where your wife was murdered?"

"And it's not like anything has changed." Rufus agreed with a dark chuckle, "with all these raiding parties and what not…it's not exactly the best neighborhood to raise family, you know what I mean?" Wyatt nodded in agreement as Lucy drained her mug. "Besides," Rufus continued, "Who would want to stay here and risk having the same thing happen again?"

"Exactly." Wyatt replied with a slow thoughtful muse, before sighing and stating matter of factly, "But from what John told us tonight, he's already planned to take care of that. He's moving himself and Mary out of here until all of this mess blows over with the French."

"He didn't say he was for sure." Lucy reminded him as she moved away from the table and to the dry sink to wash out her cup, "Only that he was thinking about it."

"Can't say that I blame him." Rufus replied, "But what does that mean for us, I mean, I get that he wants to protect his wife…"

"And he should." Wyatt replied with a determined nod, "with his leg the way it is, he needs to be someplace where they both can feel safe…someplace where he won't have to worry about not being able to protect her should the French pay us another visit."

"But you could… I mean," Lucy piped up weakly from across the room, "you helped him before…"

"Yeah…and almost died trying." Wyatt scoffed, "Or did you forget the two weeks I spent in that bed?" Narrowing his eyes at her, he asked suspiciously, "You were mad as hell at me for running off that night…but now…it's like you want me to be his own personal bodyguard." What's going on, Lucy?"

"Nothing." She responded defensively, though once again she refused to meet his eye, "It's just…I worry about us being alone…here. That's all."

"So, you would rather Mary Fraser be left to die the same way that Jane Fraser did?"

"No." Lucy maintained with a shake of her head, "No. Of course not." She breathed out, anxiously.

"You have a hell of a way of showing it." Wyatt responded with an incredulous laugh, "Lucy, don't forget that I'm not 100% either. If the French decide to attack again…without the troops here, I don't know that I can…"

"Well, you just are going to have to do your best." Lucy maintained. "All of us." she added with a pointed look towards Rufus. "You don't have to do this alone…we're all perfectly capable of…"

"Listen, Lucy." Wyatt replied seriously, "I don't think you quite understand the gravity of the situation here. I talked to those officers tonight…yeah, we were talking about hunting and living out of doors, but we were also discussing the very real possibility of…of another surprise attack."

"Wyatt…"

"If that were to happen…Lucy - I wouldn't be protecting John and Mary. I would be protecting you." he admitted with a solemnity that finally drew Lucy's gaze to his face, but only for a moment until Rufus gave a little cough reminding them both of his presence. "And you too, Rufus." Wyatt added belatedly. "You both are my priority." he explained. "How the hell could you expect me to run off and save somebody else when my job…my whole…" he bit his lip and shook his head, "John is doing the right thing. He's taking his wife out of harm's way, so that he doesn't lose her the same way he lost Jane. And I," he added, in a voice trembling with emotion, "would do the same damn thing if I were in his shoes. I...I wouldn't even hesitate, Lucy…if it were up to me we'd be out of here right n…"

"She's alive." Lucy sighed as she hung her head in defeated anguish.

"What?" Wyatt stared back at her in confusion and Lucy could barely bring herself to explain it fully…not after what he had just said about John Fraser and second chances.

With a shuddering breath she raised her eyes to meet his, the buoyed up hope that had been reignited as they stood together before the fire, dashed to pieces as she cleared her throat and replied in a voice thick with emotion, "Jane Fraser….she's not dead. "

Notes:

This update is long overdue, I know - and if people are still here and reading, I hope you will forgive me for the delay. Life happens...as they say...and life has definitely been happening. I started our homeschool year early this year because as with every one else in the world, the COVID lockdowns have completely thrown our lives upside down and inside out. So buildings lesson plans and then jumping into teaching again while embroiled in my own courses of study has made things a bit hectic. Throw in a litany of doctors appointments and a surgery that I'm still recovering from and well, you get a fic that hasn't been updated in a few months.

I promised you all I would never abandon my fics, and that still stands true - I won't. These fics (What Might Have Been and Stranded) are both essentially finished as far as the storyline and outline go...it's just a matter of fleshing out the narrative. I want to see them completed probably more than you do...because they are the result of a lot of work and effort. I therefore, appreciate your patience and understanding when hiatuses like this arise, because this is just something I do for fun and while I do enjoy writing, when things get busy, it's not something I am able to prioritize. I apologize for that, but some days there are just not enough hours in the day to do all that must be done.

As for the fic itself.. - Yes, Jane Fraser is still alive and yes, that actually happened. It's an incredible story and I will be sharing it with you all in the next chapter. I don't foresee another long hiatus...now that my surgery is done, I won't have to travel back and forth to see my doctor so often which allows me more time to write. Rufus will continue to be a source of frustration - I'm sorry...but I promise at the end of this whole thing, you'll be cheering him. He is Lyatt's biggest shipper after all.