Author's note: I realise that I have stated before that there would be R-rated content in my writing and I just wanted to restate that, especially for this chapter. So, as before, please consider the content before reading.

Part 1. The Washroom

(Back to Mary's POV)

William walked out of the fenced in area and over to where I stood with the captain.

"Well, obviously you were ready." Said Capt. Bordon.

"Obviously." Replied William with a superior look on his face, though I knew he was only pretending to act arrogantly towards the captain.

"I knew you would win." I said smiling up at him.

William smiled back, drew me firmly to him, wiping the blood from my cheek, and kissed me deeply, but pulled away suddenly when I whimpered in pain.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm alright, it's just that I'm sore from yesterday."

"I understand. I apologise."

"No no, you needn't apologise." I said. "Let's get you cleaned up. Bordon, please inform Cornwallis that Col. Tavington will be late for supper this evening."

"Yes Mary."

"Come William."

William went into the washroom on the second floor of the estate to bathe. I entered the washroom while William was bathing, knelt down on my knees, and dipped my hands into the steaming water, resting them on his chest.

"Mary." He said in a soft, low, seductive voice, placing his hands over mine."

I smiled and gently kissed his clean-shaven cheek.

"William, I know that the slash across your chest isn't very deep, but I would like to see the one on your thigh."

William lifted his leg out of the water. I walked over to the right side of the tub to assess the slash in the mid to upper area of his right thigh.

I ran my fingers carefully over the wound that cut into his inner thigh area. William winced slightly as I carefully applied pressure to the wound, placing his hand over mine.

"It is a bit deep, but not enough to need stitching William. I'll put ointment on it when you're finished bathing."

William nodded.

"Very well."

William drew me nearer to him, kissing me passionately; my hand slid further and further up his thigh as the intensity of the kiss increased.

He pulled away momentarily and whispered, "Get in."

I had aroused him.

"William, what about supper?"

"It wouldn't be the first time that I've missed supper, even if I was only supposed to be late."

I smiled mischievously at him and replied, "Alright then, William Garrick Camden Tavington, I shall."

Part 2. Not Enough

After about an hour, in which the last ten minutes were spent just relaxing and conversing, William got out of the tub, grabbed a robe that he had brought with him, and put it on. Luckily I had left my own robe in the washroom earlier in the day, so I grabbed it and put it on. Then, I quickly applied ointment to William's wounds; we then grabbed our belongings and returned to our quarters.

When we arrived back in our quarters, I grabbed a brush, went through my hair, and then began to put it into a loose braid for the evening when William, who was lying on four-poster in his robe said in a soft voice, "Leave it down."

I turned and looked at him.

"Come."

I obeyed, the answer to what he wanted clearly reflecting in his eyes, which were almost white in colour.

I lay down on the four-poster next to him; he slid a furtive hand into my robe and rested it at the base of my throat.

"That one hour wasn't enough for you was it?" I said seductively.

William kissed me on the lips and then replied, "No, it wasn't."

I smiled and undid his robe, sliding it down his shoulders and arms.

"I didn't think so."

Part 3. Never Able to Justify

(From William's POV)

I lay awake about several hours later, and stared at Mary who had fallen asleep, her bare back and shoulders bathed in the moonlight coming in from the window across from the four-poster.

I reached over and gently ran my fingers through her luscious, curly, black locks. She did not stir. I lightly ran my hand over her body, savouring the soft, warm feel of her skin. It was during this time that I noticed a couple of bruises on her belly and lower abdomen, and was bitterly jarred back to the events of the previous day.

I carefully pulled my wife's sleeping form protectively against me, all feeling of contentment immediately ceasing. Mary was right. Anything that happened to O'Hara would not even come close to justification for what he did. Even killing him didn't seem very satisfactory anymore.

I laid my head back on my pillow, visions of the previous day filing my head, and fell into an uneasy sleep.