Alice did not know how long she had been asleep, but she knew something was wrong the second she opened her eyes. At first, she thought she was having one of her nightmares, but when the shadows didn't dissipate into nothingness, she knew what she was looking at was real. A hundred feet away there was a band of Huron moving through the night, well-armed and stealthily silent as they stalked their prey.

Without making a sound, Alice looked around in the dark. She saw that her sister was awake and laying flat beside Nathaniel in the tall grass, and that Duncan and Chingachgook were flanked on either side of the pair, bows raised and guns trained on the predators. But where was Uncas? She felt immediately bereft and terrified—had something happened to him?

Then, in the misty darkness, she saw his broad back and his dark hair shimmering in the half moonlight. Overcome with an urge to touch him, to ascertain he was real, to assure herself that this was no nightmare, she belly-crawled across the expanse towards his body. As she got closer, his head ticked her way.

In one aggressive motion, he grabbed her and wrapped a firm hand around her mouth. This shocked her, and she struggled against his force. Eyes narrowing, he quickly shoved her beneath him, pushing her into ground as he laid almost his whole body on top of hers, giving no thought to being gentle with her. The pressure nearly undid her. He felt huge and unstoppable and her mind filled with horrific images of the past. No, no, no, no, she thought, Not again, no no no nononononooooo

As if aware of the turmoil going on within her, Uncas rearranged his musket in the grass soundlessly, but kept his hand wrapped around her mouth. He moved his weight so that he was supporting himself on his elbows, not fully on her tiny frame. As he did so, he whispered to her in a low calming tone, speaking in words she did not understand but knew to be his language. Her heart continued to beat wildly but with each word, she began to slowly return to the present. She fought against him, but with less fury and terror now, and then her movement stilled almost entirely, but not quite. Against his higher wishes, Uncas had to admit that the small, rhythmic motions she was making now were almost undoing him altogether, as she pressed and pressed her curves onto his chest, his belly, and below. Finally, before he became aroused, he forced her trembling legs between his strong ones and sunk his weight on her a little lower.

"Shh, shh," he said, pretending as though it was noise that was making her movements an issue. "Be still, little mouse."

The words seemed to have a magic effect on her. She no longer moved or fought at all, and for a long time, the pair lay like that in the grass, waiting for the Huron to move slowly past their camp. She was so still that Uncas would have thought she was asleep, but he could feel how charged and wakeful her entire body was. She seemed to soaking in every sensation and he had to admit that he was doing the same. He had not held a woman in a long time, and an English woman never. Her skin and hair felt different than a Delaware woman, softer and plumper. Instead of muscle, he felt nothing but curves beneath him, warm, feminine curves that smelled of rose and vanilla and the faint sweat from the day's exertions. He moaned in spite of himself as he remembered how she was bucking her bottom against his lower body.

Alice looked up at him in surprise, twisting her neck so that her gray-blue eyes were shining in the moonlight beneath him. Her gaze was questioning but when she saw his expression, he could tell she immediately understood. Even an innocent gentlewoman like her could not misunderstand such a look. He looked down in shame and was prepared to let go of his grasp, as she would be well within her rights as a lady to be horrified, especially if the stories he heard of English women and their prudishness were true. But Alice did not look horrified. Or prudish. And, although he could hardly believe it and later spent hours wondering if he imagined it, she raised her bottom once against him and nudged…no, rubbed herself against him, this time no doubt feeling his hardened cock, even through her many skirts.

He very nearly lost his mind when he heard Nathaniel standing up in the distance. "They have gone. You were right, Father," he said. "They would not enter the sacred burial place."

"Yes," said Chingachgook, "We have earned ourselves another reprieve. But for how long?"

Uncas lay motionless as Alice struggled out from underneath him, embarrassment shaking her to the core. What had she done? What had she done? She felt disgusted with herself. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. How could she?

Uncas looked up at her and smiled, but she nearly burst into tears as she looked away from him. She was unclean. She was certain to be damned. How could she feel these things? How could she do such things? They had been right about her all along. Oh, she wished she was someone else. How could she be so bad? Her mother in heaven would be shamed. Oh, my God. She should never see her mother again if she was sent to hell to be punished. How could she not be? How could she have…rubbed her body against him in that way? What came over her?

And so she continued in this vein of thought while everyone once again settled back into the camp for a few more hours of sleep. Uncas seemed incredibly troubled and kept trying to catch her eye, but she only continued to wring her hands and mutter wordlessly to herself, her mouth moving without a sound. Nathaniel shot a questioning glance to Cora who shrugged.

"She gets like this sometimes," she said. "People used to think she was mad…it's part of the reason we had to come here…But I will speak no more of it."

Nathaniel nodded carelessly. A mad sister would not keep him from falling for this dark fiery girl beside him. So Alice continued to speak silently to the night, the only witness a troubled warrior watching her with dark unreadable eyes, eyes that watched her long after she fell into an unhappy sleep.