(Back to Mary's POV)

It was half past one in the afternoon. I was lying in bed conversing with Cristaberl when there was a knock on the door and Brielle stepped into the room.

"Mama, are you all right? What happened?"

"I can't tell you what happened; you're too young to understand. But I'm all right now."

Brielle gave me a cross look.

"I'm always too young! Please, I'll understand!"

"Brielle, even your brother isn't going to be told. Now stop arguing with me." I scolded.

Brielle scoffed and turned to leave the room.

"Brielle Damara Anabelle Davina Ebony Tavington, stop right there."

Brielle stopped, turning towards me with an angry gaze.

"You will better your attitude before you leave this room; you have been cross all day and I will have no more of it. If you continue to behave this way it will be straight upstairs to your room for the rest of the day and until your father and I return home tomorrow. And don't think that because Cristabel is watching you you'll get away with anything."

Brielle screwed up her face in fury, glaring bitterly at me. I met my daughter's gaze with an emotionless stare, absorbing her intense anger until she had none left.

Brielle let out a sigh and left the room.

"Well Brielle certainly has a personality. Not that I haven't noticed it before…"

I smiled and shook my head.

"She 's a lot like her father. Strong willed and stubborn."

"I see you as well when I look at her. She's got your independence."

"Blessing and a curse." I replied. "I've had to be strong all my life. I was born in London. My mother, Katrine, died giving birth to me. So it was just my father, Charles, my brother Samuel, and I"

"I didn't know you were British." Cristabel said.

I chuckled.

"I lived in England until I was ten years of age. Then things grew hard for my father, and money became and issue, so he moved us to South Carolina."

"Still, I wouldn't have guessed. I knew your bloodlines ran English, but Edward told me you were a Colonial and from how you sound, I really wouldn't have been able to tell otherwise."

"I know. I've lost nearly all of my accent. But William says that he can still hear hints of it, in how I say certain words or letters. He says it really shows when I'm angry. But yes, most of it is gone."

"Very interesting! So what exactly did you do when you arrived in America?"

"We moved onto a plantation and my father began farming to earn a living. Of course, my brother and I helped with chores. That is how I gained my education, along with lessons from my father on reading, writing, and even arithmetic. He wanted to make sure my brother and I had a well rounded education, even if it wasn't proper for me."

"He did very well."

"Thank you."

"I don't understand. Weren't you a patriot?"

"Yes. Even though we were British subjects, my father grew upset with how the British were conducting themselves in the colonies. So he sided against them, and became well known for it, through political meetings and speeches."

"So well known that it got you in conflict with the British and thus the Dragoons were sent to pay you a "visit".

I nodded.

"William and I didn't exactly begin things with what one would call a "good" start. In fact, we both loathed one another. He loathed me for being so difficult. I loathed him for obvious reasons, along with the fact that my being sharp-tongued seemed to amuse and attract him at times."

"Your mutual loathing didn't last long."

"No it didn't. It quickly became uneasy tolerance, which then just became tolerance, followed by a passionate kiss in the woods which led to me questioning how I felt about him, then eventually grew and expanded into what you see now."

"That's a very interesting story you have to tell."

"Is everything all right in here?"

William had stepped into the spare room.

"Perfectly." I replied.

"That's good. Well, Edward is back from Peter's; Cristabel, if you're ready, I can take you and the children to our house now."

"I'm ready. Let's go."