Author's Note: Chapter 4 is here! Thank you so much for all of your wonderful reviews for the previous chapters, it means so much to have a great and positive response. I hope this next chapter lives up to your expectations. I have once again tried to proof read this but due to the length, any typos or mistakes I have missed are entirely my own fault.

Chapter 4

Ruth Evershed returned home and changed her rags before sitting down to the luncheon that Beth had prepared. On many occasions such as this Ruth refused to stand on ceremony. It seemed entirely ludicrous to her that she should eat alone in the Dining Room and that Beth should eat alone in the kitchen so Ruth, much to Beth's disquiet, often insisted they eat together in the kitchen and talked of matters ranging from Zoe's ongoing courtship with Daniel Hunter, the running of the household and matters about town. Coming as they did from different classes, Ruth was always fascinated to hear the goings on that Beth was party to and more than once discovered a fascinating piece of information courtesy of the loose tongues of the staff of other households.

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the subject of General Pearce came up after his visit the previous day and Ruth's visit to his offices that morning. Ruth found herself denying that any form of courtship was going on only for Beth to offer her opinion on the man. Ruth found herself grateful that she was able to explain it was simply a business relationship to do with her skills as a linguist, similar to the work she had carried out for her father before his passing. Yet after the luncheon was finished Ruth found herself grateful to be out of the house and have an excuse to return to the offices. The disappointment Ruth felt when she discovered Sir Harry was in a meeting for the duration of the afternoon was more than she had expected but she was being engaged to do a job and completed her work as quickly as possible and left her translations in the appointed place for the General's purusual. Now she just had to find someone suitable to pass along the message.

Finding the most ignored member of his staff downstairs was easy. There was a young Indian soldier who was cheerfully going about his business, invisible in a room full of people and upon observation quite remarkably capable. Ruth knew he was the man for the job and at once set about cornering him.

"Private Tariq Masood, at your service Ma'am," He introduced himself and Ruth made sure he knew to inform the General the moment he was out of his meeting that the documents he required were in the agreed place. Cheerfully Masood assured her that he would see to the matter and Ruth decided that she liked the young man. More quickly than she had anticipated, Miss Evershed found herself free for the rest of the afternoon and wondered for the first time in a long time how she should spend her day. Ordinarily her home would beckon with all its books and comforts but the awkward questions Beth had asked at luncheon – the result, Ruth realised, of having cultivated a sense of overfamiliarity between them instead of insisting on the status of Mistress and maid – made that an uninviting prospect. She could call on Zoe, but what had once been a pleasant association was now riddled with the stress, anger and anxiety of the attack from Lord Hunter and her concerns over the future for Zoe should Miss Reynolds indeed decide to pursue things, as she seemed to be doing, with Daniel Hunter. Whatever Zoe's choice, Ruth found she wanted to avoid Lord Hunter at all costs.

In the end Miss Evershed decided she was in need of some solitude and contemplation and so headed in the direction of Charing Cross, soon finding herself outside the chapel of Saint Martin-In-The-Field. Ruth entered quietly, chose an empty pew approximately two-thirds of the way towards the front where the acoustics were just right and closed her eyes to pray for God's guidance. Some time later, evensong began and for the duration of the service all earthly thoughts left Ruth Evershed's mind while she immersed herself in the ancient, sacred, sublime music of God.

A short distance away, just as Ruth Evershed was immersing herself in the beauty of the choral music of the Church of England, General Pearce was coming out of a meeting to be greeted by a messenger who had arrived with haste bearing urgent news of his ex-wife. Casting all other matters aside as soon as he read the letter, he requisitioned the nearest horse and rode with the utmost haste to the marital home he had once shared with his wife.

The household servants knew him. The butler showed him in and straight to the master bedroom upstairs. Catherine was present, weeping in the hallway. A group of maids stood, dirty and exhausted and over-wrought with emotion. The stewards stood stoic, caps in hands.

Just at that moment the Doctor emerged, bloodied, and all Harry could do was stand there staring and pale with shock. The General looked at the Doctor. The Doctor shook his head. When Sir Harry made for the entrance of what had once been his own bedroom no one stopped him. No one had the heart.

Jane was laid out on the bed, blood everywhere. A mewling infant was cradled in the hands of the head gardener's wife in the far corner of the room. "Jane..." Harry lurched towards her bed. For all the animosity, for all the hatred, for all that had passed between them he had never wanted it to end like this. A sudden rush of memories came upon him and he remembered at the last, everything that had been goodness and love between them in their earliest years.

A sad smile pulled at her face. A weak hand reached towards him and he moved straight towards it, whispering sweet nothings as he had done in their youth. "Jane..."

"Harry."

"Its alright, I'm here now," He whispered, holding her hand and found himself kissing her forehead.

"Let me hold her."

"You're too weak," Harry said softly, "Concentrate on getting well."

"Harry. Let me hold her," Jane insisted.

For the first time since entering the room Sir Harry took a good look at the loyal wife of his head gardener. Erin, if he remembered. How long had the Watts tried for a child? He tried to remember. Beckoning the woman forwards Harry carefully extracted the child from her arms and lowered the bundle carefully into the weak arms of his former wife.

"Erin will take her," Jane told him. "Harry promise me..."

"The child will want for nothing, I promise. The father?"

"Gone," Jane whispered. She was weakening. The blood loss too much but Harry watched, tears in his eyes, as Jane insisted on feeding the girl. The little pink squirming bundle of joy and tears suckling away so steadily at the breast that would soon be cold.

"Harry, promise me something. Promise me you'll be happy. Don't be the man you were, be the man you could be, could still be. Promise me."

"I promise," the tears ran freely. Rarely in all his years in battle did Sir Harry think he had cried quite so much as he had cried in the last two days; and now this. "Jane, I'm so sorry..."

"I don't want to die," Jane whispered quietly and then grasped his hand suddenly tight and stared at him earnestly. "Look after the children?"

"Every day," Sir Harry responded solemnly. He made all the promises she desired. Held her hand. Preclaimed his love and watched he slip quietly into the world beyond.

"Rosie..." The last words on her lips.

After she was gone he closed her eyes and sat with her a while. When the child began to fuss he lifted Rosie and kissed her forehead and then placed her carefully in the arms of Mrs Erin Watts. Gardener's wife, loyal servant and now, finally, mother.

"Look after her, Erin?"

"Yes, sir."

It was with the heaviest of hearts that Major General Pearce walked out of the bedroom, that he had once shared with his wife, for the last time. There would be things to sort out. For the moment there was his son and his daughter, Graham and Catherine. He nodded at them and stood out of the way so that they might pass and see her one last time. A minister arrived to console with them but Harry let the Minister pass by into the room, unable to bear the simpering platitudes of the Church at such a time.

Harry knew he had to write to Malcolm. Had to write to Jane's parents. Had to spend time with his son and daughter. Had to engage a wetnurse. Had to organise a funeral. There were so many things to be done and yet he could think of nothing but the grief that consumed him. He wandered off a little way to find some peace and found himself in the nearby bedroom that he had often taken in the infrequent visits home. It still remained largely untouched since he had been there last. In their divorce had let Jane have all she desired including the house and he noticed it smelled faintly of her. Had she come in here? Had she brought her men home or gone somwhere else? Who was the father of her child? He had wondered such things before and for what? How could he blame her, now, for her infidelity? She had loved him once, Harry realised, as he now loved Ruth. His beautiful Ruth. How could he blame her for seeking her pleasures elsewhere when he was gone for years at a time. What a thing he had done, to her, to his marriage. The eternal pleasure of a woman's body, the heat of her sex, spilling his seed into another cunt...his baser urges leading him further and further away year after year from the marriage bed he ought to have shared with his wife. How many children had he himself fathered? How many children like Rosie sat at other husbands tables? He would never know, but he could make changes now in what time he had left.

Catherine and Graham were inconsolable. Graham though still in his teenage years drank to an excess that scared Sir Harry and there was every indication of his having been recently at the bottle. Catherine was distant and angry, angry at her father that he had been there when her mother had passed and she who had cared for her mother all through Jane's last confinement, had not. Angry at the child. Angry at so much in this world. Angry at him.

Walking back outside to face the servants, one of the maids spoke up, said she knew a serving woman in a neighbouring household who had recently given birth to a child and lost her position. Rumour was it was the Master's child. Sir Harry surmised it was entirely likely, given the way that so many men carried on with their servants. Personally Sir Harry had always considered engaging sexually with one's own servants to be a matter of gross stupidity, nevertheless he agreed to allow the maid to send for the woman and set about engaging her as a wet nurse for Jane's child. Many hours were spent, trying to reason with his children. Fighting off the supposed help of the Minister when the only man of the church who Harry could possibly countenance was Malcolm and in the end he had a messenger sent post haste to carry the news of Jane's passing and requesting Malcolm's presence as soon as may be.

Having rushed out of his office so quickly and with the dreadful events of the afternoon, it had quite escaped Sir Harry's mind that he was supposed to update the Prince Regent that evening on the progress in translating the documents. Quite escaped him that was, until the young Tariq Masood, a soldier on secondment from the Army of the East India Company, arrived at his wife's residence informing Sir Harry that a messenger from the Palace had arrived not one hour ago with strict instructions that General Pearce was to meet with the Prince Regent at this evening's concert in the Hanover Square Rooms. He cursed the Prince under his breath, caught between the grief of the household and the expectant look of the eager youth before him who was clearly unaware of the dreadful events of the afternoon.

Sir Harry sat down with a heavy sigh and ran his hand over his face. Even now, at this private moment of grief, work beckoned. Was it any wonder Miss Evershed had her reservations? The thought that he had been willing to risk bigamy to be with the woman niggled at his mind, but that was hardly the point now. Jane was dead, passed from this life.

Seeing his son pass in the hallway before him, Sir Harry tried to call on Graham only to be met with a stream of words that would put most sailors to shame. General Pearce was stumped as to how to reach his son and when Graham insisted he was going out drinking and would not be back before the morning, Sir Harry could do nothing but watch Graham go, wondering if he would not find himself present at the birth of another illegitimate child nine months from now if the boy was his father's son, which rather unfortunately quite appeared to be the case. As it was, Sir Harry was already thinking of writing his son out of his will, unwilling to see years of hard work and toil thrown away on the gambling table by the folly of youth. Yet for the present moment, there was nothing he could do but watch the young man walk out the door.

Catherine appeared and seemed to sense at once, with a single look at her father, that he was departing.

"My presence has been requested by His Royal Highness the Prince Regent," Sir Harry announced. "It would be more than my life is worth to spurn him at such a time."

"Father! You cannot possibly!"

"Catherine, I must," he sighed heavily. "How is your sister?"

"Erin is looking after her," Catherine shrugged she seemed on the verge of tears and seeing, finally, a moment where he might finally be some sort of father to her, Sir Harry reached out and took his daughter in his arms, letting her cry out her grief on his shoulder, her tears seeping into the red woolen fabric of his uniform. His heart clenched, grief he had not expected to feel at the death of his ex-wife piled on top of the pain he already felt at seeing his family and former household so inconsoleable.

"You should not be alone," Sir Harry told his daughter firmly. "Not at such a time." It occurred to him that of all his acquaintence, Miss Evershed would be uniquely suited to console with Catherine having lost both her parents. He wondered how they might get along but the possibility of his daughter's questions along with the fact that he had already taken up a significant portion of Miss Evershed's day with the translation work she had taken on, made the General shy away from the possibility. Instead he resolved to call on the steady head and no-nonsense attitude of Mrs Carter who would, Sir Harry was sure, have everything in order quite promptly and his mind made up, he quickly sent a footman out across town to fetch her. There was no one who could manage a household quite like Fiona Carter and no one within the family was in a position to make important decisions right now. Yet Sir Harry could see the sense of betrayal in his daughter's eyes as he made his goodbyes. Too many goodbyes, too many excuses over the years, too little precious time spent with her to allow Catherine to forgive a call even from the Prince Regent himself.

It was only as he departed in the household town coach for his own apartment that Sir Harry came to wonder why Catherine herself was not out in society and the more he thought on the matter the more he cringed. She could hardly have gone out in company with her mother this last season, not with Jane heavy with a clearly illegitimate child. The divorce could hardly have helped matters and then there was his own reputation as a drunk and a philanderer. No matter that he was trying to mend his ways for the benefit of Miss Evershed, clearly the damage was already done when it came to his daughter and as for a dowry, Sir Harry realised he was quite unaware whether Catherine even had one.

Another responsibility to add to his burden. Another reparation to be made. His children had needed a father and he had failed them. He had made his excuses, war and women and Jane's men too and yet the result in the end was that he had all but abandoned them to their fate, letting them live their own lives apart from him while he went off chasing skirts and bottles of whiskey. General Pearce realised he would have to step up now. Someone would have to step in to correct Graham for Jane, clearly, had not done so and as for Catherine, his lack of interest in his own daughter's prospects while putting the hope of his own happiness to the fore was reprehensible.

But there was no more time to think on such things. There was barely time as it was for him to have some supper and change into his full dress uniform before rushing off to Hanover Square.

Earlier that same day, just as General Pearce was rushing to the deathbed of his former wife Jane, Ruth Evershed emerged from evensong feeling calm and centred and in control for the first time in as long as she could remember. Feeling much better than she had for some time, Ruth returned home thinking how nice it would be to call upon Zoe in the next few days and spend an afternoon together as they had done before the social season had gotten quite so hectic, to take a walk in the park and go for marzipan sweets at one of the local sweet shops.

Supper was a simple affair. After the somewhat awkward encounter with Beth over luncheon, Ruth decided that she would eat dinner in the dining room after all and had Beth wait on her. While Ruth was ever hopeful of being a kind and considerate mistress who thoughtful towards her employees, she still liked them to know their proper place within the household and while Ruth had always been cordial to Beth and paid her well and she was, indeed, happy to hear Beth prattle away about all the little details of her life, Ruth could not honestly say that she counted Beth amongst her confidantes. Better, she thought, to keep such a person in cordial terms but at arm's length.

And so it was that Ruth ate supper alone in complete silence in the dining room. The good fresh soup and bread hardly seemed worth making the fuss over and so Ruth forced herself to sit through a second course of cold ham that she could barely afford before thanking Beth for her service and retiring to read. The familiar noises of Beth pottering in the kitchen reassured Ruth that all was well. Some short while later the doorbell rang and when it was not immediately answered, Ruth realised that Beth must have gone out to take in the washing in off the line in the back garden before darkness fell and so she found herself going to the front door on her own with some trepidation. Memories of her ordeal at the hands of Lord Hunter stirred and for a moment she almost didn't answer it. Only the thought that General Pearce might call unexpectedly once again persuaded her to in fact open the door but she was surprised when she did so to find none other than Adam Carter waiting to call on her.

"Colonel Carter!"

The boyish grin on his face told Ruth that he was probably up to mischief and so Ruth ushered him inside, thinking it best the neighbours did not see handsome married men calling at her upon an evening.

"My dear Miss Evershed I have a proposition for you!" Carter announced. "Fiona and I had tickets to visit the Hanover Square Rooms tonight only Fiona has been called away on an urgent personal matter and I find myself quite alone for the evening."

"Well whatever are you doing here?!" Ruth exclaimed.

"I thought you might like to cause a scandal and go with me in her stead. Actually, it was Fiona's idea, she said that you had been spending all your time with Miss Reynolds of late and thought you might appreciate the opportunity to expand your social circle."

Ruth, ever the cynic, suspected Mrs Carter's motives to be somewhat different. After the interrogations in the powder room once upon a time, Miss Evershed was more inclined to suspect that Mrs Carter was hoping her husband could weasel some good gossip out of the evening and yet, after such a trying series of days, the thought of an evening in the pleasant and easy company of Colonel Carter was extremely appealing to her.

"But what if people think-" Ruth tailed off. She could not bear people thinking of her as a loose woman, as someone like that. Someone who would carry on with a married man.

"I am quite able to inform the nosy bastards that Mrs Carter was indisposed and suggest I take along the daughter of my good friend Admiral Evershed in her stead and with her permission," Adam Carter concluded with a little bob of his heels. Seeing Ruth waver, thinking twice about it, Colonel Carter decided he was not above begging. "Oh, please, Ruth. The music is sublime but I can't bear the thought of an entire evening with the boring old gits that attend these things. Your observations never fail to make me smile. Come out for the night and give me something to laugh at."

For Adam Carter's part, the news of General Pearce's wife that had reached the household that evening had been extremely sobering. The evening's entertainment was very nearly called off altogether were it not for Fiona's astute insistence that Sir Harry would insist everything carry on as normal until they were ready to make an announcement of Lady Jane's passing.

"I suppose it would be a rare evening out where I was not required to play the chaperone."

"Exactly!" Carter enthused. "Come on! Go get your glad rags on, I have the coach waiting."

"Adam, I have barely a thing to wear," Miss Evershed warned him.

"Oh, nobody cares about that, Ruth. Its not like the Prince Regent will be there. Besides, if you are so in need of evening wear I'll buy you something myself. I still owe you for saving my life in Tunisia that time."

"You know I could not accept and I did not save your life, I merely negotiated with the locals on your behalf. It was a perfectly routine misunderstanding, Colonel Carter."

"Fine. Lets pretend that it was. I'll set Fiona on you and then you'll have to let me buy you something to get her off your back!"

Ruth glared at Adam, warming to his company. Mrs Carter was indeed one of the most stubborn and tenacious persons she had ever had the honour to meet. Theirs was a strained acquaintence, for Adam was like a brother to Ruth after many a long voyage with Carter's troops stationed aboard her father's ship and while Mrs Carter was clearly devoted to Adam, Miss Evershed and Mrs Carter had never quite bridged that gap themselves. There was, however, no doubt in Ruth's mind that, all money aside, if Colonel Carter set his wife to the task of refreshing an old spinster's wardrobe that Ruth indeed would quickly give in just for the sake of following the path of least resistence in the face of Mrs Carter's tenacity.

In the end, Miss Evershed gave in. Colonel Carter sat downstairs having tea while Ruth went upstairs and found a demure evening dress that was suitable for the occasion. The blue one was her best but after the ordeal at Lord Hunter's hands she had asked Beth to throw it out and quite honestly never wanted to see the garment again even and although it was her best. The weather it seemed was finally warming up and rather than wearing her pelisse, Ruth decided to opt for her best spencer and gloves along with a simple but well made bonnet and matching purse. The coach was waiting outside and although they were very nearly late and had little time to mill around before the concert, they took their seats and waited with everyone else as the starting time came and went.

Upon entering they had bumped into several of Colonel Carter's acquaintences who had been sorry to hear of Mrs Carter's indisposal and wished her all the best. Ruth, having no idea what the matter was about, smiled politely and nodded in all the correct places. It wasn't like Mrs Carter to take ill. Had Miss Evershed had to describe Mrs Carter's constitution the word 'oxen' came to mind and Adam had been particularly opaque on the matter. Still, Ruth was glad to have the excuse of an evening out and in such good company too. She had a sneaking suspicion that if she had been alone at home she would have spent all night fretting and festering in her own emotions. The anger and betrayal at Lord Hunter's actions had not abated and raised more questions about Zoe's future. As the man's future daughter-in-law she worried for her charge and yet had resolved not to speak on the matter with Miss Reynolds until she had made up her own mind on the best course of action. As they sat waiting for the performance to begin, Ruth wished she had some sort of confidante she could confide in. Yet such was the genial, brotherly relationship she had with Colonel Carter she was unwilling to broach the subject with him and Miss Evershed worried that any of her female acquaintences would judge her honour tarnished by the attack.

The thought briefly occurred to her to raise the matter with General Pearce who was, after all, a man who had lived several years longer than her and undoubtedly knew more of the characters of men both good and bad from his position as an officer in the Army. Yet raising the matter of an attack on her person with the man she had just twice spurned struck her as particularly insensitive even if he was the only one with whom she could countenance raising the matter.

After several long minutes of sitting and waiting, Miss Evershed and Colonel Carter were just beginning to wonder what was taking so long when a courtier in royal livery entered and announced the presence of the Prince Regent. Ruth gasped in surprise and nervously began fumbling with her purse, trying not to drop anything as the entire room rose as one for the Prince Regent's entry. She had to admit he was exactly the sort of man whom her father warned her about. The sort of man who drank, who partied and gambled, who openly seduced virgins and other mens wives. Many a nobleman had been forced to watch His Royal Highness go after a beloved daughter or spouse unable to do anything. Some considered him great. Others power hungry, shallow and a fat old oaf who longed for his father's death to cement his own grip on the throne. Certainly the King's ill health showed no signs of abating and as long as George III remained mad, the Prince Regent would remain in charge.

It was with great intrigue however that Ruth, along with everyone else, watched the Prince Regent enter. For certain the man was well dressed even if he did have the air, demeanour and body of someone who spent long hours over-indulging himself. General Pearce, Ruth mused, although being a man with a bit of a stomach one could see from his bearing and gait that the General had spent his life in action and that what weight he currently carried was merely due to the onset of middle age. The Prince Regent by contrast looked exactly the arrogant, over-fed, spoiled eldest child that one might expect him to be. Such things of course could not be said to his face, but Miss Evershed was not left with a positive impression of the man. Behind him entered an entourage of men and women. Nobles and their wives, friends and hangers on and to Ruth's complete bemusement there amongst them was a man of stately bearing and carriage with balding blonde curls and the new full dress uniform that General Pearce had been wearing in the evenings of late since his return to London.

"What on earth is he doing here?" Carter exclaimed.

Ruth, too, had felt surprise at the General's presence but there was something in the tone of shock that Colonel Carter's voice bore that had Miss Evershed wondering if there was not something going on that she was missing. She was sure, quite sure, she heard Carter muttering insults at the Prince Regent under his breath. Something about 'the pompous brat' that forced Ruth to bite her lip to stop herself sniggering inappropriately.

As it was, with the Prince Regent's sudden presence, the acute consciousness of the state of her own dress and General Pearce's unexpected position within the Prince's entourage, Miss Evershed could hardly focus on the music. It was exquisite, it was sublime, but to her horroer as soon as the performance was over Colonel Carter was up out of his seat moving in General Pearce's direction with an expression of grave concern on his face. To the side of the room by one of the exits, Carter managed to corner the General demanding to know what was going on and Ruth was just catching up when she saw Carter put a gentle hand on the General's shoulder and quietly share his condolences.

Condolences.

Concern for the General immediately flooded Ruth's person and she rushed forwards only to have clearly disturbed their conversation for they both fell silent as soon as she approached.

"General Pearce," Ruth greeted him.

"Mis Evershed," Sir Harry nodded in reply. "Carter, I had no idea that by requesting your wife's services I would be disrupting your evening plans. Please allow me to apologise."

"There's nothing to apologise for, Sir. If there's anything I can do..."

"Thank you," Sir Harry nodded, glancing carefully at Miss Evershed and the rather elderly and outdated state of her dress. Sir Harry felt strongly that Miss Evershed deserved so much more and yet the woman could apparently be quite stubborn on matters of her household and finances. Perhaps Zoe could work on her. He could slip some money Zoe's way and then his god-daughter could use it to spoil Miss Evershed. She was a wily young thing, his god-daughter. Sir Harry felt confidant that she would come up with some scheme to spoil Miss Evershed. Such diverting thoughts, however, could hardly detract from the overbearing burden of grief that radiated from his person and Sir Harry was sure that Miss Evershed had noted the change in his person, going by the expression of concern on her face.

"Colonel Carter, I would be very grateful if you were able to discreetly inform Miss Evershed of the evening's events. You may tell her all you know of the matter. I trust her confidance."

Ruth looked from one to the other, desperate now to know what is going on.

"Please excuse my rudeness, Miss Evershed. I am not at liberty to talk on the matter with so many ears around."

"Of course."

"Well then. If you will both excuse me I must be getting back, for if I know you at all Miss Evershed I suspect you are keen to avoid an introduction to the man himself just yet and if I do not return with haste he will doubtless work his way over here."

"Oh God, you cannot possibly introduce me when I am in such a state. At least give me enough time to purchase a new dress!"

"Very well, Miss Evershed."

With a few last words of courtesy the General parted company from them and returned to the Prince's entourage. They could both see the Prince grilling the General on where he had been and to whom he had been talking and heard the words 'Colonel Carter' and 'Army' mentioned. Both privately hoped the matter would be dropped there. As it was, something about the Prince Regent's presence set Ruth on edge and every time she brushed someone, every time someone stood behind her or beside her in a particular manner she felt a spark of fear in her heart. Colonel Carter expressed his concern that she might not be well although she assured him that she was just out of sorts from the unexpected turn of the evening. Only when they were finally on their way home from the evening's concert and in the privacy of the Carter's town coach did Colonel Carter feel able to broach the subject of the sad events of the day.

"Mrs Pearce?"

"This afternoon. The General got word at his office, not long after you left I suspect. Childbirth."

"Then the General is a father, again?" Ruth asked with a gasp. Was it possible he had divorced his wife when she was heavy with his child?

"I did not enquire into the particulars but I have reason to suspect that the child is not in fact Sir Harry's progeny. I have been led to believe that Sir Harry and Jane had not been intimate for some years in the run up to their divorce."

"Dear God!"

"Indeed," Carter nodded solemnly. "You must excuse me for not informing you before. Fiona left at once to help sort out the household and I nearly didn't come at all had my wife not insisted. She felt the General would want as few people as possible to know until they had managed matters within the household somewhat. Catherine must be beside herself, Graham couldn't herd a flock of sheep never mind manage the servants and with the General so much in demand concerning Army business he has little time to organise everything himself."

"What of the child? I suppose it will go to the Foundling Hospital?"

"I understand one of the senior staff is planning on taking in the girl in so that, at least, is dealt with."

Unknown to Colonel Carter, the matter of the attack at the hands of Lord Hunter floated once more to the front of Ruth's mind but any idea she had previously considered of seeking the General's advice was immediately dismissed. It would not be fair, with so much else going on in his life at present, to place such an additional burden on him. Ruth resolved instead to stay silent on the matter and hope that, one way or another, everything settled as well as it may in the circumstances.

Certainly, there seemed to be enough to be going on in London Town at present to keep all the society gossips busy until Christmas.

Endnote: I should explain that I made something of a mistake in my historical research. Apparently while you could divorce by Act of Parliament at this time, you could not remarry while your spouse was alive, therefore had Harry and Ruth married the marriage would have been bigamous. However, bigamy was not unheard of and in fact became such a problem that it was one of the reasons remarriage of divorcees was allowed a few decades later.

On a completely different note, can anyone tell me where the HR fandom hangs out? Livejournal? Facebook? Tumblr? Would be great to connect with some of you a bit more. :)