Felicity: An American Girl ROMANCE Pt3, Ch22: Thunder and Lightning

Ben just couldn't be still as he stood outside the double oaken doors of the duke's mansion. He shifted from one foot to the other, biting his lip, looking first impatient, then pained, then more or less like heart was going to fail him any moment. She was here. She had to be! Squire Babcock had not said one oway or the other if she was in this mansion, just that it was imperative to speak with the Duke of Bel Hastings about the matter. All of his senses were clanging like the bells of a great cathedral proclaiming the end of a war. It was all he couldl do to hold himself together.

The squire stood beside him, looking patient and like he had all the time in the world. He had neither denied or confirmed that Felicity ahd been to his house, but with all due respect Ben believed that she had been there, since the squire's own daughter had blurted out Felicity's name uncontrollably. That proved it. offered to take him to see the duke in person, and Ben had no objestion to that whatsoever. So he left the Gooch tied securely in the Babcock barn with young Rollie to guard him...

...and a take-charge Unguin Babcock to see to it that the Gooch did not die from his shot knee. With two of her fascinated children to assist her she removed the lead from the back of the Gooch's knee while Rollie looked on with amusement and ate from a near-to-overflowing plate of Babcock-cooking, the smell of which was so tantalizing that it was hard to tell if the Gooch was yowling from pain or envy.

Ben had walked to the duke's estate with the squire, who insisted that they walk (in hopes of getting the agitated young American to calm down a bit), but that only seemd to make Ben even more tensed. He had actually started striding ahead of the squire, who merely chuckled. Like Felicity, Ben had been awed by the sight of Bel Hall in all of its magnificence, but the thought of Felicity actually being in this place was the thing that most made his heart start flip-flopping around in his chest. The closer they got, the stronger he felt in his soul that she was in there.

And now here he stood, right outside the stunning place that was called Bel Hall, to see an actual duke about his beloved Felicity. He could hardly breathe! After having urgently used one of the shining brass door knockers to get the attention of those within, they had no choice to but to wait. But they didn't have to wait long, for one of the doors was slowly opened by an affiable-looking gentleman in a butler's sharp dress with spectacles on his nose and a short peruke wig on his head.

"Squire Babcock! 'Tis a pleasure," said the butler, genuinely pleased. "Have you come to dine with us today?"

"Nay, Lazlo, my old friend, I am here on...eh, shall we say 'official business.' 'Tis urgent that my young friend and I see Lord Covington right away. Constable Poon is unavailable and we got a villan by the name of 'Gooch' tied up in my barn with an irate female known as my wife threatening to cut off his injured leg if he even thinks about trying to escape!"

"Ah, say no more, squire. Do come in." Lazlo stepped back, opening the door wide to admit Mr. Babcock and the young man, who was wide-eyed and nervous looking, his brown eyes immediately roving about the beautiful airy foyer as if looking for someone or something. Laz smiled generously. "And who might this young friend of yours be?"

"Uh, Benjamin Davidson, sir," said Ben for himself, gulping anxiously as he tried to address the butler and look around for certain people at the same time. "I'm here to see the duke about my missing fiance, Felicity Merriman."

"Miss Felicity?" Lazlo's eyebrows went up. "She is your fiance?"

Immediately Ben slipped into a near-hysteria. "You know her? Is she here? Please, you've got to tell me if-"

"Squire Babcock?" inquired a well-spoken male voice. "What is this about Miss Merriman?" Descending the stairs, the Duke of Bel Hastings gave his visitors a curious look. He was dressed in fine navy blue for dinner, his queue well-groomed and tied with a silk black ribbon. He was impressively handsome without looking foppish in the least, a broad-shouldered, sensible man who carried himself with an air of importance and business (when he was in official duke-capacity, that is), showing a face that was both stern but optimistic. Maggie had called it his"breeches-are-too-tight" expression. His 'official dukeness' look had intimidated some of his peers, his business competitors and the fellows who had once vied with him for attention from a young Evangeline, but those who knew him best found it utterly comical.

Ben Davidson had never met a duke before, much less knew how to address one. In his life, he had never given thought to the possibility. In the colonies, rank didn't matter much unless you were in the army. Lords, Dukes, Viscounts, and Earls were all the same to the patriots, especially if they had come from England. Ben Davidson had never expected to be in England addressing a person of such title. But if Felicity was here and spoke with this man on a regular basis then he could, too. Quite obviously the duke knew Felicity. She was here. He coudl feel it! He could feel her. He gathered his courage as the Duke of Bel Hastings came off the steps.

"Got some interesting news for ye, your grace," said the squire, with a bow that Ben stiffly and briefly mimicked, and with the familiarity of one who knew the duke well. "This young Yank brought that Gooch fella to my house, where we've got him all bound up like a hog for the butcher, who just might turn out to be my Missus if'n ye don't reccomend a course of action. Poon isn't available for awhile."

"Please, sir," Ben appealed with his young heart on his sleeve, "that is, your Grace, I have been searching for my fiance, Felicity, for I've forgotten how long now- is she here? I am here to take her home to be with her family, to be with me! I cannot endure another day or night without her, sir. I just can't!"

"An' I, for one, think 'e means it!" put in the squire, rubbing the back of his neck. "Love does nasty things to a man's head."

The duke nodded. He looked Ben right in the eye. "You are not in the employ of a Lord Reginald Forsythe?"

"No sir!" Ben replied incredulously. "Forsythe is the one who took Felicity from her home in the colonies!"

A tense moment passed. Then the Duke of Bel Hastings smiled forgivingly. "Then I believe you, Davidson." He extended his hand. "I am Lord Eric Covington, second Duke of Bel Hastings...and temporary keeper of your Miss Felicity Merriman. 'Tis a good thing you happened along when you did, because I am presently having a ship re-fitted for travel to return Miss Merriman home." The two men shook hands agreeably.

"Then she is here! She is truly here?"

Eric smiled pleasantly. "I am assuming you would like to see her now?"

Felicity had come to admire the duke's gardens, which he confessed joyfully were really Evangeline's gardens, since it was his wife who had lovingly made it into even more of a splendid work of art than anyone else in the duke's family had managed. There were rose bushes galore. Willow trees, birch, oaks and maples, all presently budding in preparation for the coming spring. There was a reflecting pool, a magnificent Greek sundial, a statue of a rabbit playing a fife that made Felicity smile when she thought no one was looking. She had learned it was the Babcock children's favorite thing in the garden.

But the most impressive botanical creation of all, the thing that impressed Felictly Merriman the most, was the maze. Created with evergreen hedges between six and seven feet tall, it would be a challenge to get through. Felicity had yet to attempt it, and she didn't feel up to it today. With a sigh she thought about how much fun it would be to try it with Ben by her side. With Elizabeth, and Arthur. They would all love this.

But would she ever see them again? Things would never be the same if she did. Her heart sank, as it did nearly ten times a day. At her side her hand fisted in her struggle to not give in to the raging depression that threatened to stifle her. This was not the time. She silently swore that no one would ever see her cry again. It didn't matter who she saw again or when. She wasn't an emotional little girl anymore, she was a soon-to-be seventeen year old woman. Time to act like one, and a hardened one at that. Life was mercilessly cruel. Well! She could find that she could be too! She didn't like it, but if that was the only way to survive all of this, then she would recreate herself in stone.

Like that Roman woman statute on the front lawn of Forsythe Manor.

"Miss Felicity?" inquired Flora at her side, sounding concerned. "Are ye all right?"

"Huh?" Felicity turned red, embarrased at being caught pre-occupied. "I'm sorry, Flora, my mind just has a tendency to wander off easily these days!"

"Ye aint even eighteen an' your'e talking like the elderly! I was just sayin' that 'tis a wonder the sheep aint picked up yer scent an' come a runnin'! I aint never seen sheep take to a person like they do with ye!"

Felicity blushed again, this time offering a crooked smile. "Yes, well...I do like sheep." What could she say about the four-footed wooleys that flocked near the mansion because they knew she was in it? It was odd. Recently on one of her walks with Flora, the ovines had found their way into the garden and came trotting to her, bleating for attention and nearly knocking over the ladder on which stood one of the duke's gardeners removing dead leaves and branches from some of the maze's evergreen walls. No one could make sense of it. Felicity wasn't frightened by it by no means, but they did amuse her to the point of doing all that she could not to howl with laughter. The duke was right when he said sheep were queer creatures.

The maze took up the center length of the expansive, rectangular rear lawn, with Evangeline's beautiful gardens on the left and right of it. White crushed shell paths took a person on tour throught the gardens on either side of the maze. Felicity and Flora took the left hand path to walk and talk about nothing in particular. It wasn't like the two young women were utterly alone; employed at Bel Hall were six dedicated, able-bodied gardeners who worked hard to keep their late mistress's work alive, so they were here and about, doffing their hats to the girls as they went about their work. If anything was amiss or suspicious, everyone would know about it in a matter of seconds.

Felicity and Flora had toured around the gardens only once today, and were now returning alongside the outer evergreen wall of the maze to their left, when Felicity thought she heard someone yelling. "Wait a moment, Flora, I thought I heard something." She had a tendency to get nervous quick these days, wary of strange sounds and sudden movements.

"I don' hear nothin', Miss," said Flora as they halted abruptly, her amicable face puzzled.

"I could've sworn I heard someone..." They remained paused, waiting silently, blinking. Then Felicity shrugged. "I suppose it was just the gardeners, calling to one anoth-" She drew in her breath sharply. "There, I heard it again!"

"As did I!" exclaimed Flora.

"Felicity!"

Flora looked at her friend worriedly. "Someone's hollerin' for ye, Miss!"

Chills snaked down Felicity's spine. "B-But if it was someone evil, they wouldn't have been able to get in...would they?"

"Oh nay, Miss! They'd have to fight their way past the duke himself!"

Felicity gulped as she took another timid step forward, she and Flora holding on to one another. The yelling voice came again: "Felicity!"

Dear God, that voice sounded frighteningly familiar. Almost like it had come from...

"Felicity, where are you? Are you out here?"

Her first working thought was that it was Ben Davidson's voice. But that would be impossible, the most least likely thing to happen in the world. Whoever it was merely sounded like Ben, that's all. A rush of sadness filled her, for she believed she would never see Ben again as long as she lived. She was thoroughly convinced of it, and hated herself bitterly for not forcing all of her girlish dreams to just die faster. She sighed tiredly. "Well, whoever it is sounds urgent, so I guess we'd better go see what is going on."

Flora nodded and they began walking toward the mansion again. Said Flora, "Maybe his Grace's ship is finally ready to sail again. That would be good news for you, Miss Felicity, but we'd all be sad to see ye go."

Felicity smiled appreciatively, trying not to let emotion get the best of her. In four weeks she had gotten close to the wonderful people here at Bel Hall against what she considered to be her better judgement. They were a vastly different bunch than those at Forsythe Manor. And none of these servants were colored slaves, forced from their homes. They actually enjoyed serving the duke, they had all mourned the passing of Lady Evangeline, and they all longed for the return of young Thomas, the duke's only child. At least Felicity had gotten him to consider it.

"Felicity, please, are you out here?"

Blast! How that person yelling sounded just like Ben! She actually put speed to her step as she and Flora came upon the maze's edge and rounded the corner. There she stopped cold. Between the start of the maze and the many steps coming down from the mansion's broad rear patio was a gravelled space. There was a man standing there, clad in a long black winter cloak over his blue-grey clothing and knee-high riding boots. His back was turned to them, and although he was wearing a tricorn, 'twas easy to see his queue of long brown hair.

Long brown hair, thought Felicity, just like...

Though neither Flora nor Felicity had made a sound, the man must have sensed them standing there, for he suddenly whirled around and saw them. And when he did, a gutteral cry tore from Felicity merriman's chest uncontrollably as Ben Davidson cried out "FELICITY!" They started towards each other at once, a stumbling, dazed kind of movement, a maddened dash as the world around them dissolved in their perceptions to where they only saw each other and nothing else.

Flora was terrified that they would collide right into each other and be knocked insensible at once. But Ben's arms flew out wildly, catching Felicity in a frantic, crushing embrace, lifting her feet right off the ground as he twirled her around.

As she had been running to him, instinctively, as though her legs had minds of their own, her eyes had teared up so fast that her view of him had been blurred completely. She didn't hear the sound of her shoes crunching on the gravel for the sound of insane screaming she didn't even realize was coming from herself. And then all of a sudden he had her, his strong warm arms enclosing her, the musky, masculine scent of him invading her senses to the point of shock, the sound of his voice trembling as he, too, seemed to be crying. But Felicity did not comprehend a single word he was saying. The impact of hearing a voice she loved, the voice of someone she'd sworn she would never see again knocked the wind right out of her. The feel of him; his sinewy, slender form, hard and strong was a shock to her own body. Had he not had such a death-grip upon her, she would have puddled to the ground unconscious.

She continued to scream into the bend of his neck, making all of the bones in his upper-half vibrate with the intensity of it. He inhaled her dizzying sweet lavender scent that he had missed so much it brought him to tears. She was so pale and thin! Frail-looking, like she had been ill recently. And he reminded himself that she had been, because of those horrible powders. He wanted revenge, wanted to kill Reginald Forsythe with a burning rage. But loving Felicity back to health came first. He gripped her as hard as he could, gripped the back of her beautiful red head and held her as if he dared the universe to just try and take her away from him again.

"Lissie, Lissie, my beautiful girl," he murmured into her delicate ear as she sobbed. "I have you now. I'll never let go, oh I'll never, ever let you go again! I swear on my grave!"

But Felicity didn't hear him, not his words anyway. She had gone into actual shock; cold all over, shaking uncontrollably, unable to get a mental fix on the reality of the situation. There was a difference between swooning and being so overwhelmed with unexpected surprise that one's body just shut down because it couldn't cope. Ben felt her strength leaving her, so he quickly swept her up into his arms, holding her tight like he was scared to death she would disappear in his own grasp. He got a grip on his roiling emotions and murmured words of undying love that she still could not comprehend.

The gaping Flora could only stand there and stare as the handsome young man carried the wretchedly crying Miss Felicity up the marbled steps to the patio. He trembled as he carried her across the patio's marble surface, his paled face somewhat scrunched with his effort to keep frowm crying aloud himself. He needed, wanted to be strong for her, for the both of them. One of the double glaze-barred doors at the back of the mansion was still open and he took her through, into the airy corridor connecting the sunroom and foyer, where the duke, Lazlo, Magdalene and Squire Babcock were still standing and talking amongst themselves. All four of them looked at Ben, flabbergasted, as he carried the crying Felicity in. Somehow he found voice, albeit shakily, to ask, "Is there a place here where my fiance and I could be alone? To talk and-"

As if on cue, Lord Eric, Laz,and Maggie pointed at arm's length up the stairs. "Thank you," Ben said, sniffing back his tears, and took Felicity on up the grand staircase. The four observers just stared in amazement. She clung to his neck as best she could, since her limbs had gone numb from shock. She still couldn't make sense of his words, because the sound of his voice was impact enough. It was the sound of home, of precious childhood memories that seemed like a lifetime ago, of what used to be love.

On the second floor, he went to the first room on his left, which was actually the room Felicity had been given, and shut the door hastily with a foot. He spotted a cozy little sofa near the fireplace, which had been lit for the approaching evening. His breathing was fast from the excitement of having Felicity back at last and in his posession.

He sat her down on the sofa and immediately sat himself down beside her, turned in her direction. One arm remained about her shaking shoulders while he rummaged around like mad to get a hankerchief from inside his coat pocket. With it he gently wiped away the many tears streaking her cheeks. Her sobs had become soft, weary hiccups, and now she just stared at him through watery, dull green eyes. Eyes he missed so badly that he wanted to shriek with joy. But they had lost their shine and presently regarded him with such sadness that it was all he could do not to crush her to him again.

Slowly, she caught his wrist and lowered it. When she spoke, her voice was a shaking whisper. "Are you for real?"

"Yes!" Ben laughed joyfully, tears in his eyes, too. "I'm real and you're real! You don't know how long its been-"

"Did..did Father come?" she interrupted with a question, swallowing hard. Her mind was spinning so bad her head had started to hurt, but in this insanity that was too real to accept just yet, her mind was taking a nasty turn. "Is my father here? Did he come for me?"

Ben had yet to suspect somwthing was wrong. It seemd to him to be a perfectly natural question. He smiled apologetically. "No, Lissie, I'm sorry. He wasn't able to, so I-"

"I see," she interrupted again, stiffening, releasing his wrist. "He wasn't able to come so he sent you in his place. Yes, I see." She quickly stood and moved away from the couch.

Now he began to sense something was wrong. She was moving away from him, throwing up an invisbile barrier between the two of them and it scared him horribly. Something was bad wrong. She was putting space between them physically. Not good at all. "Lissie, what is wrong, what's happened?" He, too, rose quickly. He wanted her back in his arms again to hug and squeeze and love upon like never before. What was happening here?

"I hope your voyage over wasn't so bad," she continued, her arms going about herself as if she was trying to keep herself from shaking any worse than she already was. as he inched toward her, she was inching away. "Whether you can believe it or not, I will try to be as little a burden to you as I can on the trip back."

"Felicity, what are you talking about? What's wrong?"

She sniffed, smiled so politely that is was, indeed, frightening. "I'm sure you must be quite eager to get back to your wife."

"My what?" His brown eyes went wide. "Felicity! What did he do to you?"

She smiled again, refusing to look him in the eye lest she simply lose control for the ultimate last time and start screaming her outrage to the world. "Oh, I'm perfectly fine, as you can see. 'Tis really improper for a married man such as yourself to stand too close to someone like me. We can exchange pleasantries, if you like. Do tell me how my family is faring, will you?"

This was horrible. She looked like a ghost, sounded like she was about to lose her mind, and refused to let him get close to her again. "Felicity, look at me! Tell me what has happened! I don't know what you're talking about!"

Trembling violently, she made a crazy, flippant gesture with one hand and said with eerie indifference, "Oh surely you must have married by now. Was it Clarissa? I recall she was quite fond of you. I knew she would make you a good wife. Is she expecting yet?"

"Felicity!" Ben cried, his eyes full of concern and terror. "I'm not married! Who told you that? I have not married anyone! The only girl I want to marry is YOU!"

If anything, that only seemed to push her further toward the edge. He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she backed away immediately, holding up a palm in protest. "No! Please do not say things you think I want to hear! I know you think I'm a lunatic, I can see it in your face. I am not so foolish as to believe that you, a grown man and eligible bachelor, have not married by now. You needn't be nice to me, even if father is paying you well-"

"FELICITY!" he roared, damn-near frightened out of his wits for her. "I'm not married! No one is paying me! I came here to get you because I love you!"

She said nothing, which was even worse than if she had said anything at all in response to that. She shook her mussed-up red head in refusal and backed away from him until her back touched the wall near a window. She glanced around her, a frightened rabbit that had been backed into a corner with nowhere else to run to. It hurt so badly to see her this way; the beautiful girl once so full of life and love and energy, reduced to fearfulness and despair, nearly mad with shock. It was a fine line she was walking on between insanity and hope. Ben Davidson realized that whatever she had been through, whatever horror Forsythe had done to her, the effects were accumulating now and he could quite possibly lose her forever with the wrong move or word.

"Felicity, please, listen to me! I love you! I am here to take you home and spend the rest of my life with you!"

"You always did think I was stupid," she whispered absently, wavering where she stood. Ben stopped trying to advance and held his hands up, the gesture of submission. She sniffed and said, "You really think I'd be so stupid as to believe that you would settle for marrying a whore."

Oh dear God. She remembered. All of those terrible things he'd said to her that day, the look of agony in her stricken eyes, the pleading in her voice for him to listen to her. And he'd refused. He'd thought the worst of her because he felt sorry for himself. She'd had to live with the memory of that day alive in her mind, on top of what she was going through here. The pain he himself had caused in the person he loved the most burned in her angry eyes.

"Felicity, please," he said, speaking softly, his face showing his effort not to cry, "I said some horrible things to you that day, things I wish to heaven I could take back! I was feeling sorry for myself, thinking only of myself, that every nightmare I'd been having about you loving me being too good to be true was just that: too good to be true. I was jealous of every man who spoke to you or looked at you. I knew what they were thinking because I was thinking those things myself. I kept expecting you to change your mind about marrying me. I'm sorry, Lisse, I'm so very, very sorry. I swear to you I will never doubt you again. Ever. I have been through hell without you, love. Everyday has been like a nightmare. There is just no living without you. I don't want to live without you."

She clenched her teeth. "Oh what a horrible time you must have endured." It was sarcasm, plain and simple.

She was wrathfully angry, but at least she had stepped back from the egde of madness. He was determined to ride out her rage, no matter how long it took. He would never give up. She was stuck with him and he would stand fast to prove it."Believe me, Lissie, I have prayed to God for His punishment, but since I have not been struck down as of yet, I know He meant for me to find you and bring you home to your family. That is what I am going to do. And I am gong to marry you no matter how long you want to wait."

She straightened a little, her gaze hurtful. "Well, it really is too bad you did not marry Clarissa Dupre when you had the chance. Perhaps it is still not too late. It seems you are unaware of one major problem."

"I do not love Clarissa Dupre!" Ben told her pleadingly. "I never have loved that girl! Never! The thought of being with anyone other than you is unacceptible! I don't want to be with anyone but you!"

"WELL YOU'RE TOO LATE!" She screamed at him viciously, stepping forward dangerously, her fists having balled at her sides. "Because he already married me!"

"Wha...what?" Ben gulped, going pale, his eyes going wide once more. "No...you can't...you don't mean..."

"YES I DO!" Felicity raged at him. "What, you think he brought me all the way to Bristol just to show me the quays? He MARRIED me! He took me to St. Mary Redcliffe and married me!"

Ben felt himself getting weak and chilled to the soul with shock. There was a knick-knack table on his left that he quickly put a hand upon to keep from dropping to the floor. Felicity watched with suspicious eyes, watching for his ultimate reaction. He took several hard breaths as if he was trying to catch his breath, the he said shakingly, "He-he married you?"

"That's what I said!"

His teeth clenched. His brown eyes filled with tears once more. He held to the table with both hands. "That bastard forced you...He forced you..." He couldn't bring himself to say it, to speak the horror he had secretly feared all this time. "Oh God, what I have done?" He released a half-sigh. half-cry as he turned to her again. "All of this is because of me."

"How rotten you must feel," Felicity snarled stiffly, her arms going about herself again as if she were trying to keep warm. "Guess you better get home to Clarissa as fast as you can. You needn't have bothered to come for me, you know. Eric's men are preparing a ship to take me back to the colonies any day now, so I would have been just fine on my own-"

"Lissie," he cried softly, "how bad did he hurt you?' Like he hadn't even heard the words she had just spoke. He stepped toward her again, his heart breaking. "How did he do it?"

"You mean how did he manage to marry me? You think I didn't try to fight him? Oh, I forgot again how you think very little of my stupid little girlish mind. If you must know, he accomplished his goal the very same way he got Arthur Pratt and me into a bed together. The very same way he was able to get me aboard his ship without me even knowing it. He used his medicinal powders."

"I-I know," Ben whispered woefully, his brown eyes full of more sorrow than she'd ever seen in all the time she had known him. "That would have to be the only way he could ...get you. You're a fighter, Lissie. I know you would have gotten away if you had been physically able." He swallowed with a great deal of difficulty, then attempted to approach her again. "I will kill him, Lissie. I will make him suffer for what he's done. And it doesn't change the way I feel about you. Nothing could. I still love you more than my own life. I will still marry you no matter what."

Felicity's eyes narrowed. So he was thinking Forsythe raped her. Her first thought about that was to let Ben go on believing it, but then the notion of it was beginning to make her sick as well. She thought about Tristan, whom Ben didn't even know existed...yet. As furious as she was at Ben, she figured numbly that there were other ways to make him squirm without going that far.
A person could take only so much Forsythe having control over everything.

"You think he forced himself on me?" Felicity asked suspiciously, sniffing back her emotions. "You really think I would allow that?"

A sliver of hope flashed across Ben's tortured expression. "Did he, Lissie? How far did he force you? I want to know, I want to make him feel hell for all that he's done!"

She hesitated a moment, watching him waver, watching for the slightest indication that he felt sorry for her instead of posessing this 'undying love' for her that he was going on about, making him worry to the most extreme...then she sighed resentlfully. "No. He didn't take advantage of me. The marriage has not been consumated."

"Oh Lissie!" he cried, bursting forward and grabbing her into his arms in a crushing embrace that once again had her feet leaving the foor. But she did not embrace him in return. There had yet to be an understanding between them, and Felicity wasn't sure what it was to be yet. Good lord, he was a handsome sight, so slim and dashing, yet broken down and spiritless. A lot like herself. But in no way had he suffered as much as she. It would be easy to forgive, certainly. But to forget? That was an entirely different matter that Felicity wasn't ready to deal with. This was all so much, so sudden. To beat all, she had felt her love for him rising like a wildfire inside of her the moment she'd seen him. That same insane, passionate burning she'd felt for him the moment he's returned from the war. She wouldn't be hurting as near as much had she no longer loved him.

But was love enough anymore?

"I love you, Felicity," he murmured tightly in her ear. "God, how I love you."

She said nothing, just stared up at the elaborately molded white ceiling of the room, wondering what was to become of them now. It would take time to figure that out. She closed her eyes against the feel of his soft warm lips brushing her cheek the kissing it firmly. Lord, that felt good! Her own natural instincts wanted desperately to kiss his mouth and run fingers through his beautiful brown hair, to let all of the hate and anger and sadness just melt away in the confines of his protective embrace, but that would be just delaying the issues, and there could be no peace, no understanding, no future for them if they were not addressed first. She could not enjoy this closeness, not now, not yet.

She pulled back, meeting his emotion-filled eyes with her icy green ones. "So am I to accept that you believe what I'm telling you? Do you believe me when I say that Forsythe's farce-of-a-marriage was not consumated- " She became angry again. "- or would you prefer to examine me and see for yourself?"

"Felicity, no!" Ben said quickly and pleadingly. "I believe you, everythng you say! I will still make him pay for everything, I promise you, but I am so glad he did not hurt you...in that way. Not that it would or could change how I feel about you, never. I just want you to know that I love you no matter what! No matter what happens to the both of us, we have love between us, Lissie. We will never be parted again!"

And again she found herself crushed to his hard chest in a frantic embrace with his cheek pressed against the side of her head. Sadly she whispered, "You turned your back on me when I needed you the most, Ben. I cannot just forget that. God knows I want to, so badly, but you don't understand what that did to me. The one time I needed you more than I had at any other time...Why, Ben?"

"Because I was a son-of-a bitch," he sniffed self-loathingly. "A self-centered bastard with no thought for anything except for how I was effected. God, how I wanted to just die when I realized the truth."

Though she loved him more than anything, she couldn't help but agree with him wholeheartedly.

He semed to be taken by panic, for he pulled back just enough to drop to his knees before her, his tricorn falling off of his head as he looked up at her with his soulful brown eyes full of pleading. He clasped her woollen, fingerless gloved hands to his lips for a moment, then begged intensely, "A better man would have never left you that morning and believed you without question! Please tell me Lissie, that he hasn't destroyed us- that I haven't destroyed us! If I have lost your love, I have lost my life! There is nothing for me in this world if I don't have you!"

He buried his face in her finers as she closed her eyes wearily. Forgive, yes. Forget, no. Not this soon, anyway. She needed time. She needed to think, and there was no way she could do that when Ben was being so pitiful like this. "Ben," she began quietly, a tremendous weariness settling upon her in place of the fury, "is that why you came? Because you feel guilty?"

"Of course I feel guilty!" He looked up at her again, pain in his eyes. "I am guilty! My God, Lissie, I hurt you grievously when you needed me the most! And for that, the guilt is killing me: I cannot eat or sleep or anything! But is it the reason I came to get you back? No, Lissie, I love you. I will tell you that again and again, over and over until you believe in me again!"

He watched her as she looked away, trying not to succomb to tears again. After a moment of near-unbearable silence, she sighed and looked at thim so tiredly. "In a way, Ben Davidson, 'tis a good thing you did leave me that morning. The Gooch is a very good shot when he isn't drunk, and he wasn't drunk that morning. He would have shot you dead where you stood." She paused, mostly for effect, then murmured, "I would not have been able to cope with that, either."

A tear from his left eye touched her fingers where he had them curled up against his face. "I would have rather been shot than to have treated you the way I did. Please say that you still love me, Lissie. I cannot lose you ever again. I just can't."

She frowned, but it was not a rage-driven look like before. Her angry energy was draining into exhaustion, as tremendous negative emotions so often did to the human soul. She frowned because she was sick to death of being a victim, of her emotions swinging from one extreme to the other all the time. A trembling hand pulled itself free of Ben's grasp and touched his soft brown hair. Not to comfort or soothe, but to acknowledge his words.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Ben."

He blinked at her, those beautiful eyes of his showing such passionate worry.

"So much has happened..." Felicity shook her head absently. "Every day since the first week of November has felt like a lifetime. I've either been furious, frightened, or frantic. I'm not...me, anymore, Ben. I do not recognize this wraith I've become. 'Tis like I have forgotten how to feel anything that's good or decent, and I don't know how to manage it! I don't know if I will ever be the way I was before."

Ben was so afraid that this would happen to her. He'd seen it happen to men in the war, men who endured far more than their hearts and minds could take, and they withdrew into themselves so deeply that not even being home with their families couldn't even bring them back. Damnation! he thought quickly, I am not going to let this happen to her! We are NOT going to lose each other to despair!
Swiftly he rose, bringing her hands to his lips once more to kiss them firmly and say, "I will help you find your way back to yourself, Lissie, I swear it! I am going to love you back to health and we are going to love each other forever! I am going to help you because I am your friend and the man who loves you. No matter how long it takes, we are going to overcome this together!"

Her expression was grim and skeptical.

"I am going to take you home to your family, and when the time is right for you we will-"

Both of her wrists flinched, for he had squeezed them too hard in his passionate vowing and the still-healing gashes that she herself had made were still so tender! "OW! Ben, you're hurting my-"

"What? What is it, what's wrong, how are you hurt?" Immediately he began inspecting her fingers and palms for signs of injury. "Are you injured? Did he hurt you?"

"No!" she said, a rush of shameful heat coming to her ashen face as she pulled both of her hands away from him protectively. "It's not-I'm not-" She struggled for the words that would calm him down and distract him. " 'Tis nothing, you were just squeezing my wrists too hard."

He didn't buy it. He was possessed of worry, coming at her like an overprotective mother hen. "Let me see. Is it a sprain? Please, Lissie, let me see-"

"Ben, no." She backed away from him again, clutching one wrist to her chest guardingly. "Just...let it be."

"I can't! I've hurt you too much already!"

"This..isn't your fault." She stared at him, debating on whether to show him what she had done in a moment of powder-withdrawal-induced madness. "Not entirely anyway."

He came forward anyway, taking hold of her arms above the elbows and gazing at her so tenderly. "Please, Lissie, tell me. Tell me everything, love."

She regarded him uncertainly, then sighed. What would it matter? As far as she was concerned, she still had nothing to lose.