Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful review, I can't believe this story has had over 50 reviews already! I would like to apologise for this update being a day late. I had a personal thing come up at the last minute yesterday and was unable to update at the usual.

Chapter 5

The quite unexpected and shocking conversation with Colonel Carter on the coach ride home was followed up the next day by a letter from General Pearce, explaining that as a result of Jane's death he would be indisposed for some time for all but the most necessary of work and meetings and could she please continue with her work in his absence. Both Colonel Carter and Lance-Corporal Hunter as well as Tariq Masood of the East India Company would be at Miss Evershed's disposal should she require anything. General Pearce further added that due to the nature of the family's loss, it would not be proper for him to be out in company for the remaining for weeks of the season. Knowing, as she did now, that General Pearce's presence at these social events had an ulterior motive, Ruth wondered if there was an unspoken appeal between the lines for her to continue attending such events alone. The slightest of things, the wrong thing said in conversation or a particular noble's odd behaviour or plans for the summer could give away the person they were looking for. It was, indeed, a lot of responsibility.

Nearer lunch time, Miss Evershed's morning was once more interrupted, this time by Miss Reynolds who arrived full of excitement with a purseful of money. She announced to Miss Evershed that she had been gifted a full purse in order to buy a new dress with strict instructions that as Zoe's chaparone, Ruth would also require new clothing.

"Zoe, I couldn't possibly!"

"Just like you couldn't possibly accept any money for what you are doing for me? He really was quite severe about it, would brook no argument. Payment in kind, if you will."

There would be enough for two new evening dresses apiece and mourning clothes for Zoe. Miss Reynolds elected not to mention the name of her benefactor and decided to let Miss Evershed's assumption that the money had come from her guardian slide. As it was, the purse of money had in fact arrived courtesy of Zoe's Godfather, General Pearce, who had called on her earlier that morning with the sad news of Jane's passing and asking for the utmost discretion in the circumstances.

"You shall have to find some way of inducing her to accept the gift," Sir Harry pleaded. "I have not the time nor the inclination to argue past her stubbornness and pride. I know she would not countenance accepting such a gift from me directly."

"General, may I ask..." Zoe looked up at her Godfather carefully. His features were sad and tired, the warmth in his eyes only coming out when he spoke of Miss Evershed. "You do seem rather to care for Miss Evershed."

"Miss Reynolds, while I appreciate your interest is only well meant, I have quite enough going on in my life without being the subject of yet more idle gossip. I trust I can count on your discretion?"

Suitably chastened, Zoe had accepted the purse and the task and conveyed her condolences on the passing of Graham and Catherine's mother. Miss Reynolds had not kept company with her Godfather's children as much as she might have had circumstances been different, but Lady Pearce's behaviour along with Graham's drinking had made the prospect of regular social visits rather uninviting of late and Zoe could not help but feel rather guilty. Catherine had not been out in society all season. Between her parents divorce, her brother's reputation and her mother's confinement there had been little chance of her having a successful season at all and nor had she the advantage of a chaperone to assist her in presenting herself socially. Now her mother was dead, there would of course have to be a period of appropriate mourning before any marriage could take place, providing of course that the woman could even find a husband who would take her with such baggage. The thought occurred to her that the matter of Catherine Pearce's prospects could soon be Miss Evershed's problem if matters between her and General Pearce proceeded in the manner in which they had begun. It was obvious to everyone apart from Miss Evershed herself, apparently, that the General elevated her above all other women in both his opinion of her and his willingness to bend in the face of her opinion. General Pearce, after all, was a man with a reputation of bending for no one.

In the present however, the thought of an afternoon at the dressmaker's with the reward of marzipan sweets and tea afterwards was too good an inducement to let her thoughts linger on such serious matters. Having accepted the condolences of the household, General Carter departed once more, heading back to Lady Jane's residence in the hope that the wayward Graham had finally returned. The undertakers had already visited to removed the body and the funeral seemed to be planned for a private ceremony as soon as Malcolm could make it in from the country.

All the latest news of the Pearce household was shared over a bowl of soup for lunch and then they made ready to depart. Miss Reynolds was fortunate to have the services of her guardian's town coach that day. Having been conveyed to his club in the morning, he was not expected back until at least dinner time and Zoe had the rest of the day to herself.

Visiting a dressmaker's was not something that Ruth Evershed could honestly say she had ever enjoyed. There were endless decisions to be made. Fabrics chosen, priced and then rechosen. Styles considered then priced against fabrics; trims and colours and accessories; long sleeves and short sleeves; gloves and perfumes; pelisses, hats and spencers. The list of things to look at, compare, measure and weigh while constantly considering the overall cost of the outfit was exhausting. By the time they had gone through the various options for two sets of eveningwear apiece and mourning clothes for Zoe both ladies were exhausted. They broke with some relief for a cup of tea before allowing their measurements to be taken and then dressed up in loose swathes of fabric held together with so many pins Ruth was quite sure they were going to put pin cushions quite out of business. With the funeral surely happening any day now, Zoe had kept aside a small amount to hasten the making of the most urgent garments.

Afterwards they escaped the shop with grateful but satisfied sighs and hightailed it to the nearest marzipan shop for sweets and tea and found themselves pouring over their final choices. Miss Evershed found herself, in hindsight, regretting allowing Miss Reynolds to press her into choosing more expensive fabrics for her evening wear than she was sure Miss Reynolds or her guardian could really afford.

"It was unnecessary," Ruth insisted, "The whole point is that as chaparone I'm supposed to fade into the background, not outshadow you."

"But you looked so perfect in the midnight blue," Miss Reynolds gushed, "It shall look exquisite with white embroidery."

In front of them lay an array of small fruits, each perfection in miniature form and painted to look real.

"Expensive, you mean," Ruth chastised her. "Although I am starting to wonder at the not so subtle hints. Colonel Carter threatened to set his wife on me if I didn't agree to let him buy me new clothes. I still think its too much money."

"And I think, now that I am formally courting Daniel Hunter, it is only right that you share the joy with me. Do you know, I have asked him for a lock of hair."

Ruth smiled at the young lady, so full of hope. Any mention of Daniel Hunter, however, immediately made the chaperone think of the man's father. "Miss Reynolds, Zoe, you will be careful, won't you?"

"Careful? I'm not about to let him dishonour me before we are wed, if that's what you mean."

"No, no of course not. Well, not him anyway. The father, Lord Hunter. He isn't the sort of man who is used to taking no for an answer and you must promise me, please be careful around him."

"Oh, not you too!"

"What do you mean not me too? I'm only doing my job, Zoe."

"Daniel pins himself to my side any time we are near his father, wouldn't leave us alone for a moment. How on earth am I supposed to get to know his family if he won't let me talk to them? And then General Pearce said something about Lord Hunter when he called this morning-" Zoe cut herself off, but Ruth had already noticed.

"General Pearce called on you?"

"Only to..." Miss Reynolds sighed, "To congratulate me on the fact that I am now formally courting Lance-Corporal Hunter. He looks upon Daniel like a son, from what I can tell. He's probably been a better father to Daniel than he has to Graham. The General was just on his way to search for him."

"Why?" Ruth demanded, shocked, "Wherever would his son go at a time like this?"

"Every brothel and tavern in London," Zoe replied. "He's a drunk, you know. Hooked on laudenum too, I heard, and God knows what else. I pity the woman who has to step into Lady Jane's shoes and try to manage him."

Ruth bit her tongue and sipped her tea. With every passing day the General's life seemed to get more troubled. Was it any wonder he had clung on with such desperation to the hope of an acquaintence that had given him so much joy. And yet, there was another matter at issue here. The fact that Daniel Hunter seemed so watchful of Zoe around his father was at once a great relief and a great concern. Relief that he had obviously spotted the dangers his father posed, concern that those dangers were obviously present enough for Daniel Hunter not to trust his father in the slightest in Zoe's presence. Intriguing, and concerning. If only Ruth could talk to Zoe's distant guardian or better, General Pearce himself on the matter. He knew Daniel Hunter well and Lord Hunter too though Ruth knew they differed greatly in their politics and were not close.

Returning home after a long afternoon shopping, Ruth was glad to be able to have a seat and put her feet up for a while before she would once more have to leave to satisfy yet another invitation. While there were still balls and other social events almost every night, with Miss Reynolds now formally courting a gentleman who seemed to have every intention of marrying her, Ruth would have every excuse to bow out of further social events. However, the duty she felt to General Pearce obliged her to make an effort and it was only when General Pearce once more came to mind that Ruth realised she had not to much as sent a card or flowers nevermind called upon the family to condole with them. Within a few days however. it became obvious that the news was all over town and as she made her way to General Pearce's offices a few days hence, Miss Evershed called into a little stationer's shop and purchased a card, deciding she had left the matter long enough. Quite what one said to console the ex-husband of an unfaithful former wife or two children all but grown and long neglected by over two decades of war on the continent, Miss Evershed was not quite sure. As it was, she was shown up to General Pearce's office and continued the work she had left off. In order to aid General Pearce once he returned from mourning after Lady Jane's funeral, Miss Evershed decided to write up a summary of her work and along with her card, decided it was now the opportune time to call on the Pearce household and convey her sorrow at their loss.

In the morning room, General Pearce paced. The funeral was to happen tomorrow. Graham had been as wayward and wild as one might expect and Catherine had shut herself up in her room and would not even talk to him. Mrs Watts had engaged the wetnurse and had gone about taking care of the child while Sir Harry was caught up choosing the particulars for the funeral after the undertakers had arrived to retrieve the body. There was the wood of the coffin to choose, the lining, the adornments, the flowers in church and the place of the funeral and burial. Jane wished to be buried in the family plot on her own family's estate and so Sir Harry was in the process of making the arrangements for the body to be conveyed there after the funeral which would be nearby in the local parish church. The constant stream of wellwishers, Sir Harry was sure, had less to do with a sudden mass outbreak of grief at Jane's death amongst the wider circle of friend and acquaintences who had shunned them socially in the last few difficult years and more, it would seem, to do with the future marriage prospects of the General himself. The fact that so many of them insisted on bringing along single daughters when only sons would usually be present could not fail to go unnoticed and it turned the General's stomach somewhat and stoked his ire. Only thinking of Miss Evershed, her sharp wit and calm demeanour had any effect on him and he had taken to carrying her ribbon around with him in the pocket of his waistcoat and fingering it lightly when stressed by the endless stream of rather unwelcome mourners.

Worse, he had nothing with which to distract himself. Having finally conveyed the family news to the Prince Regent, His Royal Highness had given Sir Harry a week to sort out matters as necessary with the proviso that he must return to work immediately after the funeral, the result of which was that General Pearce had been all but banned from setting foot anywhere near the corridors of power until Jane was laid to rest but death or no, some matters of state could not wait and it made Harry anxious to be kept away. Morevoer, the rumours that Lance-Corporal Hunter relayed from the drinking taverns and coffee houses were not encouraging. Now that the war was over, there was many an ex-slaver who had whispered long-held hopes that the lucrative trade might be revived. With the war over, surely the provisions brought in during the war could now be lifted. Provisions that, in an aim to curtail the actions of France, had directly led to the end of the slave trade here. Although, some considered that William Wilberforce had had a somewhat underhanded scheme at play here all along. Nevertheless, the French ideals of liberte and egalite had been soundly trumped at Waterloo and the British Empire was more powerful and rich than it had ever been and largely on the backs of the slaves working the plantations of the great and powerful.

Such thoughts, however, General Pearce had to put out of his mind. Graham was upstairs, locked in his room. Sir Harry had once more been forced to send men out looking for him and his son had been discovered in flagrante delicto in a brothel house. Apart from a rather alluring courtesan known as Juliet, Sir Harry had always strived to stay away from the ancient profession. If Graham did not go blind from the drink he would surely go mad from the pox and yet getting his son to see the error of his ways was apparently an impossible task. The prospect of having to cut his son off and let him ruin his own life was looming larger with each day and yet, Sir Harry had no other heir and the thought of seeing his son subjected to abject poverty gave him great sorrow. Yet what else was he to do? Grahams friends were of no help, leading him astray as they had. His mother was no longer here to reprimand him and not even Catherine could seem to get through to him. Should he lock up his own son for his own protection? If he cut Graham off, the next notice he received might be from the debtors prison.

So deep in thought was he that Sir Harry was quite startled when the room opened and the poor footman who opened it had to bear the brunt of the General's severest glare.

"What?" General Pearce demanded.

"Another vistor, General Pearce. A Miss Evershed?"

"Thank you," General Pearce nodded at the man. "Show her in."

Seeing Miss Evershed again after so many days, after nothing but funeral arrangments and condolences and the endless complications of family politics was like breathing in fresh sea air for the first time in months. She wore a dark coloured dress as mourning protocal demanded and yet to Sir Harry Pearce, Ruth Evershed looked as beautiful as ever.

For Ruth Evershed, arriving at the address he had left for correspondence, she finally had an idea of the sort of man that he was when at home. It was a grand house, but tasteful. There was a woman's touch. Jane's influence no doubt.

Ruth had never seen him out of uniform. The black jacket and breeches he wore seemed rather severe after so many evenings spent next to the scarlet of his uniform coat. She curtseyed; he bowed.

They stood there, silently. Neither sure what to say.

"General-"

"Miss Evershed-"

Both spoke at once, and then cut off. Ruth looked at the man before her, confusion roiling within her. His eyes were deep pools of sorrow and swirling emotion. He looked, quite frankly, as if a warm embrace would do him the world of good but Ruth understood that men like General Pearce could not be seen to go around embracing random spinsters. Even spinsters they rather liked.

"Please excuse me, General Pearce, for not calling upon you and your family sooner. In truth I wasn't sure that it would be proper."

"Thank you, Miss Evershed."

With trepidation, Ruth stepped forwards. Sir Harry's manner was one of a man who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. Indeed, knowing what she did now about the information coming through his office, she suspected that the metaphor was more apt than anyone could possibly know. Looking for something to break the ice, Miss Evershed glanced around to examine the room and her eyes settled on a well-made sideboard upon which sat a series of small likenesses. The biggest, in the centre, was of a married woman who Ruth surmised from her dress and bearing could only be the lady of the house. This, then, was Lady Jane Pearce.

"I failed her, you know," Sir Harry said at last. This, Ruth was sure, really was not proper, to her his private thoughts and confessions, and yet with so few he could confide in or trust how could she deny the man before her one of the few opportunities he might ever have to unburden himself? "I failed her as a husband, I failed her as a father to our children. I failed her in our divorce, I left her to her shame. I have failed Catherine, I have failed Graham..." The General looked up from the floor and out the window, a long slow sigh escaping him.

"You were fighting a war," Ruth stepped closer, earnestly. "You're a hero, to so many people. A war hero. A tyrant is locked up because of men like you."

"A hero, am I? Men like me, Miss Evershed, do the most terrible of things in war. If you knew one tenth of what I have done in England's name you could not stand to look at me. No, Miss Evershed, I am no hero. I as good as killed her."

"General..."

"My philandering drove her away into the arms of other men. Were it not for me she would never have been in the situation that brought about her death and while I tore myself away for the sake of my work and peace of mind our daughter, Catherine, gave up everything for her. Gave up her own future, gave up her own prospects, her very place in society to care for her mother through her confinement. I was so outraged by Jane being with child by another man, I let her push me into agreeing to a divorce when I should have been standing by her. In the end it is those who have most to lose who suffer most, don't you think? And through it all not once did I wonder why Catherine was not out. Not once did I give thought to my daughter's marriage prospects or dowry."

"You are too harsh on yourself, General." Ruth insisted, "You have given years of your life for this country, for your king. For the Prince Regent. Napoleon swept through all of Europe, Russia, Egypt. He controlled the seas, sought dominion over the Atlantic, the Pacific, everywhere a man might go in the world they were in danger from Bonepart's greed and ambition and yet Great Britain stood tall, stood proud, stood fast against him. Defied him, General. Great Britain defied him and Great Britain felled him, because of men like you. You gave your life to the service of this country. Men like you, men like my father. Never, ever let me hear you be sorry for that."

General Pearce hung his head. "My life, yes. Their lives, Miss Evershed, were never mine to give." He saw her protesting and shook his head solemnly. "No, I think its proper that finally after so many years I feel the full weight of my failure as a man. You may say what you like about war, you know of such things, but all through our marriage Jane deserved so much more."

There were no more words that Ruth could think of to comfort him and so she did the only thing she could think of, she reached out and laid a hand gently on his.

The General took in a sharp breath. Turned over his hand, felt her fingers in his palm, brushed her knuckles with his thumb.

Abruptly the door was thrown open and they started, jumping apart.

"Father?"

The woman who entered was younger and while she bore some resemblance to Sir Harry, Ruth could see that the young lady took after her mother. Her late mother. This must be...

"Catherine. Allow me to introduce Miss Ruth Evershed. Miss Evershed, my daughter Catherine. Ruth is the daughter of the late Admiral Evershed. She has come to condole with us."

Catherine stood there looking from one to the other.

Ruth felt herself blush under the young woman's gaze, the rush of blood to the head that came with the excitement of the unexpected moment of intimacy with the General along with the embarrassment of being disturbed by the General's own daughter at such a time, Ruth suddenly felt the express urge to flee and never return. At length however, Ruth found the wherewithal to curtsey and Catherine curtseyed back.

"I see you have brought a card for us, Miss Evershed?" Catherine noted the papers in Ruth's hand. "You are too kind."

With a stilted jerk of the head Ruth nodded and handed over the card and the letter that she had entirely forgotten about, to General Pearce. "General Pearce, I have included a note as to the translation work I completed on the latest set of missives. I included only the most urgent information. The rest can of course wait until you return to work."

If anything, Catherine's already cold eyes upon seeing her father so close to this woman seemed to harden when the subject of General Pearce's work was raised and both woman waited as General Pearce opened the letter, read it and then folded it once more.

"Thank you. Miss Evershed, due to family circumstances I'm afraid I must ask something of you. You must update the Prince Regent as soon as possible. Tomorrow, at the very latest."

"I couldn't possibly..."

"You must, Miss Evershed," Sir Harry insisted and his once soft eyes hardened stubbornly until at Ruth's shoulders sagged. "It is..." His eyes slid sideways to Catherine. "It is Jane's funeral tomorrow."

"I'm sure the Palace would understand your being delayed," Ruth offered the suggestion, hoping to spare herself as much as to help the General.

"Yes, I imagine they would but tell me, Miss Evershed, knowing what you know would you be happy to let the information rest another few days until a more convenient time?"

Ruth bit her lip. Toyed with her purse. Eventually she acquiesced. "Subject to the requirements of the service," Ruth muttered.

"As flies to wanton Gods." Harry countered.

Miss Evershed considered that last thought to be a bit morbid, but then again the General had just lost the woman who had been his wife for a very many years. He had, she decided, something of a licence to be rather morbid given the circumstances and since now was the wrong moment to enter into a Shakesperean tit-for-tit, Ruth politely made her excuses and curtseyed to them, both feeling a whole mixture of emotions. It was wrong, surely, to feel so much elation at the confidences and intimacies that General Pearce seemed intent on sharing with her, when Lady Jane was not yet cold in the ground. Catherine seemed more distant and implacable than even the General himself on his worst days, she had said almost nothing since entering the room and her lack of emotion put Ruth on edge while the tales that Miss Reynolds had shared of Graham had her heart in her mouth. She wondered where hew as.

"If you will wait here, Miss Evershed, I shall write you a letter of introduction."

"General Pearce, how can I possibly meet with His Royal Highness?! I haven't a thing to wear that is worthy of the Prince's court!"

"May I give you a piece of advice, Miss Evershed?"

Ruth looked at Catherine nervously. She felt they were rather excluding the General's daughter by the tenor of the conversation, but the General seemed intent on getting to the end of the matter. Cautiously, Ruth nodded. "You may," She said primly.

"The Prince Regent has something of a wandering eye. Knowing you as I do, I suspect you would rather avoid being the subject of it. Therefore your style of dress is liked to help your cause rather than hinder it. Also, given that you are attending court on a matter of urgent State business, may I propose that in this instance something demure and scholarly would, in fact, be most appropriate. Catherine, would you be so good as to sit with Miss Evershed for a moment. I believe the nearest writing things are in the Library. I shan't be a moment."

With a brief bow and courtsey to each other, General Pearce left. Ruth was left rather dumbfounded. She wondered what the General's daughter made of all this but a quick glance at the young woman was met with a cold stare. Suddenly things seemed incredibly awkward. It was quite clear what Catherine thought of the overly familiar way in which they conversed.

"Miss Pearce-" Ruth began.

"You need not explain yourself. I am familiar with my father's ways though I would ask that you give the family peace to grieve."

Ruth toyed with her sleeves. Twisted her purse strings. She knew what Catherine thought, could see it very clearly in his eyes. Staring down at her hands throughout a long silence, Ruth felt that she really must finally say something and found herself launcing into an explanation of her life. "My mother died when I was eleven."

"I'm sorry."

Ruth smiled sadly. "My father was in the navy. He'd always struggled with promotions, got the bad placements. Wrong family, wrong upbringing. Wrong schooling, wrong ancestors. At that time, being an Officer was all about breeding and they thought he didn't have any but year after year he fought his way up. He was quite old by the time he attained the rank of Admiral and still not very wealthy by military standards, in addition to which he had incurred some debts over the years..." Ruth paused for thought. "After mother died, father took me with him. Mother never wanted to go but he asked me and I did so I went around the world on his ships. I saw the service first hand, the war, and I was taught what the officers taught the boys and the midshipmen. I learned the stars, I learned to navigate at sea, I learned the accurate use of a chronometer to work out one's position on the surface of the earth. I learned mathematics and the work of Sir Isaac Newton and I took to all of it so naturally that when I was in London my father got me a tutor and I learned Latin and Greek. Soon, with each new voyage I would purchase new books and learn a new language. It never occurred to me that I was losing out, that I was missing something by not having a woman's education and in truth, when I came of age there were some proposals but I was so devoted to my father and by that point I had become so invaluable to him that he was unwilling to part with me to the drunks and scoundrels who offered suit...and somehow as all my friend settled down one by one I spent more and more time in my father's study as this war dragged on and on. Russian, French, Spanish, Italian...suddenly my skill with languages was of great need. Coordinating a war with so many countries and languages involved is no simple matter. Father would get letters from all over Europe, from military leaders and aristocrats and other members of the allliances against Napoleon. So he would often ask for my assistance, you see, and over time we fell into a routine. I would translate his correspondence and when his eyes began to fail I would read it aloud to him and he would dictate his letters to me. By the time my father passed last year I had long since reconciled myself to a life of spinsterhood and as an older woman with no other obligations, I sometimes oblige friends and acquaintences by chaperoning their daughters to social engagements. I was chaperoning Miss Zoe Reynolds one night when your father walked into the room and we had an introduction. I am not what you think I am, Miss Pearce. I have no designs on your father and I know what it is to lose a parent. To lose both parents. "

Somehow this comment made Catherine Pearce snort in a most unladylike manner but Ruth could see that the was at least listening and so continued.

"Yes, well...once your father understood that I already had some experience with military communications he asked if I would consider assisting him as I had assisted my father. I am aware of your father's reputation Miss Pearce and while I will own that your father has been a very good friend to me at a most lonely time in my life, I would be mortified if there was any misunderstanding about the nature of our relationship. Oh God, I said 'mortified'...and your mother's just died...I didn't mean..." Ruth fretted, "I mean I did, obviously, but not...and now I've taken the Lord's name in vain..."

Somehow, completely unwittingly, the honestly of Ruth's behaviour which could not be faked was the thing which won Catherine Pearce around. With a sniffle and a teary smile at Miss Evershed's nervous antics, Catherine reached out and laid a hand softly on the writhing fingers in Ruth's lap. "You need not worry yourself, Miss Evershed, I know what you mean. Its quite alright. So, you assist my father?"

"He has particular trouble with his Greek," Miss Evershed confessed, "But you didn't hear that from me."

Catherine tilted her head, paused, and almost smiled. "Tell me, Miss Evershed, would you like to come to tea sometime?"

Miss Evershed was taken aback. "I...me?"

"I should dearly like to hear of life at sea. Father doesn't speak at all about the war and I have spent all my life at this house in London and with father being away so much and then the divorce and mother's confinement...I should like some new company and I confess I find your company rather more agreeable than I had initially anticipated."

"I should like that very much, Miss Pearce," Ruth agreed, a feeling of sudden calm coming over her at the fact that they seemed to have come to an understanding of sorts.

"I long to see the world you know. To see the war. To travel," A distant look came over Miss Pearce's face. It was a look Ruth recognised. It was the look a naval officer got when he had been too long on land and without even realising she was doing it, Ruth Evershed began going through her mental list of eligible naval officers. Most of them were like brothers to her, the thought of marrying them wasn't appealing in the slightest but Miss Pearce might have other tastes. Ruth had the feeling that Miss Pearce would make a very good Captain's wife.

Just as thoughts of mourning periods and officers and marriage prospects were beginning to form in Miss Evershed's head, Sir Harry returned and looked both surprised and suspicious by the sudden apparent closeness between Miss Evershed and his daughter. "Everything alright?" He asked abruptly.

Ruth rose from her seat and approached him, "Perfectly, General. I was only consoling with your daughter. I know what it is to lose a mother, as you know. But I am taking up your time and you must have many things to do to prepare for tomorrow."

"Thank you," The General said and then reached into the pocket of his coat brought out a folded letter and, Ruth was surprised to note, a familiar white ribbon which had caught on his hand and which was quickly stuffed back into the pocket. Not, however, before Miss Evershed spotted it and she could tell Sir Harry knew from the slight pink tinge to his cheeks. Tension hung in the air between them at its appearance, the things unsaid, the rejected proposal, the oppressive weight of grief. Silently Sir Harry sighed and with wide, sad eyes he held out the letter. Ruth could not help but notice that once again the hazel eyes which seemed so cold and closed off to everyone else showed every ounce of love and sorrow and yearning in his heart when they looked at her and Ruth could not help but meet his eye as she reached out towards the General's hand for the thick piece of writrng paper, carefully folded and signed by his own hand. He reached out and met her halfway, placing the letter in her palm and cradling her fingers. Why was it that grief over Jane only seemed to pull him closer to this woman who had so soundly rejected him?

"If there is anything I can do..." Ruth offered.

"Thank you, Ma'am but for the most part everything is in place. I don't suppose you've heard from your cousin Malcolm? I am expecting him to conduct the funeral tomorrow however, it seems he has not yet arrived."

"No, I have not heard from him." Miss Evershed thought this a bit peculiar and hoped Malcolm was all right. Knowing Malcolm he was probably embroiled in something and would turn up ten minutes before the ceremony sprouting apologies for his tardiness.

"Well then, nevermind. If he does not turn up the local minister will just have to do. Thank you for calling on us, Miss Evershed," Sir Harry spoke softly, "Your visit means more than you know."

Ruth squeezed his forearm and he let go and then taking the letter and making her excuses she left them alone to their grief.