A/N: Well, after much longer than I had anticipated, here is the next chapter! As I find myself saying each time, my apologies for it taking so long! Between moving to a new city, transferring to another university and starting a new school semester, and taking a vacation to my cousin's wedding almost 1,500 miles away, I found myself with little time to work on this! However, this chapter is about two times as long as my normal chapters, so hopefully that's some consolation! For some reason, I also found this chapter particularly difficult, for reasons I'm still not sure of. I kept worrying that many parts of this were a bit rushed over, and I've probably gone over this chapter ten times, but I figured at this point it would just be best to post it. Sometimes I can tend to fuss over things TOO much and make them even worse than they already were, which hopefully didn't manifest too strongly... AND, in the seemingly never ending struggle that was this chapter, my internet went out JUST as I was preparing to post this chapter, so it was delayed yet another day and I now sit at a little coffee shop so that I can post this chapter for all of you! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and hopefully the next chapter will come a bit easier (and sooner!).
Chapter Seventeen;
A Mission
"The same question arose in every soul: 'For what, for whom, must I kill and be killed?" Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Morning had only just arrived when Cora woke, the sun casting a pattern of warm light on the floor. For a moment she was afraid to move, worried that doing so would somehow break the spell that hung over them. Connor's arm was draped over her belly, hers across his chest. Despite the heat of summer, the warmth from his body seemed to fill and sustain her as it would have in the winter months. Eventually, she lifted her head to look at him, only able to get a quick glimpse of his slumbering face before he stirred, his eyes opening slowly.
"Good morning," she whispered sweetly, giving him a sleepy smile. Connor turned to his side so he could see her better and ran his fingers along the bare skin of her back. Surely he had never woken up in a better way than this.
"Good morning." He returned her smile, admiring the way she looked with her braid half undone from sleep and drowsiness still in her eyes. He was not sure he had ever seen Cora so free of any cares, of burdening thoughts... The sight of how genuinely happy she was made him quite merry himself. "How are you this morning?"
Cora sighed contentedly, a smile on her face as she slipped from his arms and rolled to her back, throwing a hand behind her head. "I am quite wonderful," she said blithely. Connor propped himself up on one elbow, the side of his head resting on a fist as he watched her. She lay there quietly for a moment and shut her eyes, as if relishing the moment, and then turned back to him.
"And you?" Her eyes sparkled as she smiled at him, and suddenly he found he could not answer, his words melting away at the mere sight of her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She raised an eyebrow at him and turned back onto her side, poking him gently in the shoulder. His smile faded into a more tender expression as he cupped her cheek.
"Because you are beautiful," he told her, drawing her back into his arms. Cora blushed and buried her face into his shoulder, trying to hide her shy smile. Connor chuckled softly at her response, but tightened his arms around her, stroking her shoulder with his thumb. He could feel the puckered skin there where her scars were still healing from her injury, and though a wave of emotion swirled in his stomach, sullying the happiness he felt, he tried not to let her notice. When she drew back, his eyes fell to her injured shoulder all the same, his fingers hovering over the scars as if he was afraid his touch would open them again. Cora watched the way his brows furrowed at the sight of them, emotion evident in his eyes. It was obvious he still carried regret and a feeling of responsibility from that day, although she did not understand the place it stemmed from. He could not have stopped it, could not have done anything different to prevent it without costing the lives of their friends or the family in danger.
"Stop it," she said softly, drawing his hand away and dropping a kiss over his knuckles. "No blame lies with you." She could see that he did not take her words to heart, though he said nothing in protest. "You did the right thing. There was nothing you could have done without letting worse harm come to others."
Connor sighed. She was right and he knew it, but it didn't help. There was always guilt when someone you cared about was hurt in front of your eyes, no matter how little you were able to stop it. He had only been a child when his mother had been trapped under the rubble, and yet he still felt that he should have saved her. "I know," he said quietly, though he still wished he could do it differently all the same. This time she pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him as he kissed her shoulder. They laid like that for a while, and soon all Cora could think of was how much she cared for him, how glad she was that he was here with her... She had meant to tell him when they drew apart, but instead she kissed him, pushing him onto his back and settling on top of him as it turned from a sweet gesture to something more. Connor's fingers left tingling trails down her back, the mere feel of his fingertips against her skin threatening to undo her. When his hands settled on her hips, she knew they should stop, but she was having trouble getting her body to obey her mind.
"We should get dressed," Connor said between kisses, finally managing to pull away from her. "Or I fear we never will."
"Let's not, then" she teased, kissing him again. He did not attempt to stop either, and secretly Cora hoped he would agree with her. Part of her never wanted to leave this place, to step out of the little bubble of happiness they had created and face what was waiting for them. They could never ignore it forever though, and Cora hoped that perhaps going through it all would be made easier by the fact that they had each other. Finally, after one last kiss she managed to roll away from him, and he took the chance to get up, knowing that if they kept at this rate, they would never make it out of the house.
Cora watched him as he stood, using the opportunity to admire him as she had not been able to in the dim light of the previous night. Oh, he was handsome... He had just pulled his breeches on when he caught her looking, making no effort to conceal his amusement at how she bit her lip, staring him down with obvious desire. "If you keep looking at me like that, we will surely never leave," he teased as he pulled his shirt over his head.
Cora sighed, turning onto her back and throwing an arm dramatically over her face. "I should have seduced you the first day we met," she lamented, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous she was being. Connor did not hide his laughter at her antics, and Cora smiled, propping herself onto her elbows as she watched him. There was perhaps nothing that made her heart so glad as seeing him laugh.
Eventually, she made herself get up, dressing beside him. Her clothes were wrinkled and her hair a mess, and Cora took extra care to make herself as presentable as possible, not wanting to draw lewd or suggestive comments from any of the others. After all, there was surely only so many conclusions they could have drawn after Connor had not returned... Part of her was surprised that no one showed up to ask where he was, but Cora was certainly glad they had not.
Once she was dressed and her hair worked into a neat braid, she moved over to where her soiled petticoat lay on the floor, poking it with her foot and looking over to Connor.
"What should we do with this," she asked, wrinkling her brow as she tried to think of the least conspicuous thing to do. "We could wash it," she suggested before realizing that wasn't exactly practical with their time constraints. "Or shall we burn it?"
"What is it with you and burning things," Connor teased, raising his eyebrows as he buckled his weapons back into place. "I suppose we can, if it would please you," he mused.
"It would," she said, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. "Besides, I do not think Duncan would appreciate finding it in his house," she added as an afterthought. Connor erupted into laughter at the thought of it, and Cora joined him, clutching her stomach. He was still laughing when he took her into his arms and caressed her face before kissing her, holding her tightly. Cora smiled under his lips, a few soft laughs still finding their way out as she enjoyed their last few moments together before having to leave their happy little bubble and face what awaited them.
Cora was still in a gleeful mood when they walked into the tavern, but the feeling soon left her at the sight of Ezekiel sitting at a table, a smirk on his face as he listened to something Victoire was saying. Connor could see the anger rise in her as she clenched her jaw, a dark look passing through her eyes. He touched her lower back, hoping to let her know he stood with her, and he could feel her back down a bit at the contact, but he hoped for Victoire's sake the the woman had prepared for Cora's wrath. As close as the two had become, he did not understand why Victoire had seemed to think Ezekiel's presence was of no consequence to Cora – she knew what it would mean to her.
"We were wondering when you would return," Stephane said, greeting them both and providing a welcome distraction for Cora. "Victoire said you stayed at Duncan's," he commented. Cora felt heat in her cheeks, but he did not seem to be implying anything, so she tried to relax. Victoire, on the other hand, was trying to hide her smile.
"I was worried when you did not return, so I went after you to be sure everything was alright," she said, her face now showing no signs of what she might have seen.
"Yes," Cora said, answering Victoire but speaking to Stephane. "I was too unsettled to stay there on my own, so Connor agreed to sleep there. I am sorry I didn't think of the fact you all would probably be concerned that he did not come back."
"No matter," Stephane shrugged. "You are all here now, no?"
As they prepared to leave, Cora tried her best to avoid both Ezekiel and Victoire. It was only the latter that she had to worry about, as Ezekiel kept his distance, but Victoire several times tried to approach her. Cora was strapping her belongings to her saddle when Victoire finally cornered her.
"Cora, I only want-"
"I don't want to hear it," she snapped, cutting her off and refusing to listen to her.
"Listen to me," Victoire said gently, her hand moving to Cora's arm. Cora snatched herself away, taking a few steps back as the spark of her anger grew into a flame.
"You should have listened to me all those times I confided in you. You knew what happened to me," she yelled, pointing her finger. "You knew how I would feel seeing any of them again! And yet you brought him here anyway!"
"He said he knew of Oliver's plans for you, and could help to stop it. What was I supposed to say, 'no thank you, we will deal with it when Oliver shows up and tries to kill Cora'?"
"Yes," Cora said sharply. "I could have figured it out on my own."
"I was only trying to help!"
"If that is the kind of help you are offering, I do not wish to speak to you again." In the heat of her pride and rage, Cora turned on her heel and left her there, ignoring the foreign mutterings that she heard come out of her mouth.
The two women ignored each other for days after that, but in that time, Cora's anger finally began to cool. She still felt Victoire was in the wrong, but the worst of her anger had subsided. Connor had talked to her and helped her to see Victoire's side of things, but even he agreed that she should not have brought him there without talking to her first, especially with the sensitive nature of her past with him. Ezekiel himself gave her no true cause for fear or anxiety besides that which his presence already gave. He mostly kept to himself, and did not speak much or even so much as look at Cora or acknowledge her. The real problem was that she was not sure if it was out of respect to her or some ulterior motive, like trying to gain her trust in order to betray it later, which only made her more anxious. Connor kept her from getting too worked up, though. They had found only a few moments of solitude on their journey to New York, and she had treasured every second of it. All she wanted now was to get to New York and finish the mission so that they could return to the Homestead and figure out a plan to end it all. Then, perhaps her heart and mind could finally rest.
They were nearly to the city when Victoire brought her horse next to Cora's. Cora had hardly gotten any restful sleep with Ezekiel around that she was far too exhausted to argue, so she said nothing in protest of the woman's presence. Victoire rode silently beside her for a few moments before finally speaking.
"I am sorry, Cora. You were right, I should have spoken to you about the letter in the first place, or asked to talk to you before bringing him here. I was just afraid of hurting you even more, or bringing up something from the past... I did not realize that by keeping it from you I would do exactly that."
Cora was quiet for a while, thinking upon her words, and then sighed. "It's alright," she muttered, finally looking at Victoire. "I understand."
"So we are okay, then, you and I?" Victoire asked, an air of uncertainty to her voice.
"Yes," Cora said, managing a smile. She knew Victoire would have hugged her if they had not been on horseback, but instead the woman rested her hand upon hers, giving a little squeeze before letting her horse fall back, giving Cora some solitude. It seemed that despite their fight, Victoire could still read Cora like a book.
The day had seemed to drag on since their arrival. Once they had gotten to the tavern, more Assassins showed up – Dobby, Jamie and Jacob, as they had been introduced to her. At first, Cora had felt like the outsider among a group of close friends, the three newcomers speaking so familiarly with Stephane, Duncan, Clipper and Victoire. It was only when the conversation turned to the mission that she felt she had a place. Connor had insisted on having a backup plan in case something went wrong, and wanted all of them to be completely familiar with the situation, possible hostilities, and goals. Cora had explained everything to them in perfect detail, considering the answer each question carefully, and being sure to tell them every inside trick she knew about the house and its regular occupants and guests. They had discussed the next day's events for hours, fine tuning every part of the plan, but when they were finished, Cora felt a bit less apprehensive about it. She had been nervous for days, concerned that she would not be able to fight well enough if it came to it, but knowing that the others were behind her was comforting. They had agreed that Cora and Connor would go alone, but five others – Dobby, Clipper, Duncan, Victoire and Jacob – would be nearby just in case something went wrong. Cora had asked how they would communicate, but Connor assured that they had their ways.
As the day gave way to evening the tavern filled with regular patrons, and despite what waited for them the next day, the Assassins were in good spirits, filling the atmosphere with laughter and conversation. Duncan had even played a few songs on his fiddle, to the delight of all in the building. There was dancing and singing, and Cora had even found herself laughing along with them, enjoying the company of Victoire, Dobby and Jacob, who were seated at the table with her. Though at first she had found Dobby and Jamie a bit intimidating with their more stern personalities, Dobby had proved to be an admirable woman. She was headstrong and witty, and Cora liked her instantly.
"I do not think I have not seen you so happy," Victoire remarked as Cora clapped along with the rest of the people in the tavern when Duncan finished a song. Cora smiled, but when she saw Victoire's knowing look, she felt her face redden.
Cora tried her best to feign ignorance about what Victoire really meant. "I am about to be one step closer to Oliver, and to helping be rid of Lee. What more is there to be happy about?"
Rolling her eyes, Victoire leaned closer. "You know well what I mean," she said, laughing at Cora's refusal to acknowledge what had happened. "I am happy for you," she said genuinely. "And him."
Cora shook her head, insistent on not affirming her insinuations. "Victoire, you-"
Victoire clucked her tongue, cutting her off with a wave of her hand. "I am not stupid, my friend," she laughed, nudging Cora's arm gently. "I know what I saw." Cora looked down, drawing her lips tight together as she tried to hide her embarrassment. Laughing, Victoire shook her head. "I do not mean it like that," she said, trying not to tease too harshly. "It isn't as if I peered into the windows! What kind of person do you think I am?" The women both laughed at that, but Cora's face soon turned placid again. Victoire still did not understand why Cora felt the need to keep her feelings so secret, as if she was ashamed, but she knew not to press her. It had been an ongoing struggle as Cora tried to find the balance between what she shared and kept to herself, especially after keeping all things inside for so long, and she could not blame her for being hesitant to speak of matters of the heart. "Your secret is safe with me," she said, her tone more tender. Victoire paused for a moment, watching Cora's eyes drift to where Connor sat across the room, enduring some of her drunken brother's terrible jokes. "There is no shame in loving him, Cora. What is life without family and friends to share in it? Without love?" Cora sighed and looked down again, but Victoire could see that her words were getting through to her. "Do not hold back from him. Do not let him hold back from you! Don't grow old and gray and regret what you could have had."
Suddenly, Duncan started a slower song, the melody simple yet filled with emotion, and a few pairs had taken to dancing. Even Clipper had pulled Victoire to her feet, but as they made their way around the room, Victoire's eyes held Duncan's. Cora smiled to herself, tucking the secret into her mind. Oh, how Victoire's cheeks would burn when Cora brought it up to her... As she watched them stare at each other, completely failing in their attempt to be secretive, she found herself thinking on Victoire's words, and then of Connor, and how little time they had spent alone in the past few days. After what they had shared, she found it much harder to be away from him. Her eyes searched for his in the dimly lighted room, and when she found him already looking at her, her lips twitched into a smile and she felt a flutter in her belly, boldness and desire stripping away all sense. As the song continued, Cora stood, smoothing her skirt and giving him the slightest suggestive smile before heading to the door.
There was no doubt within her that he would follow her, and she waited eagerly for him to come through the door that opened to the back courtyard, where they would have less of a chance of being discovered or interrupted. Finally, she heard the door open and him call her name, searching for her in the darkness of the night. Silently, she leapt across the space between them and kissed him roughly, even somewhat clumsily. She could feel his surprise, but he just as quickly returned the embrace, his hand gently pressing against her neck, his fingers sliding into her hair. They had not shared a kiss since they had left Boston, still unsure how open they should be about their relationship, and though it had only been a few days, it felt like an eternity. When they finally pulled away, both breathless, Cora jumped a few steps back, a mischievous look in her eye.
"Can you dance?" She asked, sounding as if she had come up with some devious plan. All Connor wanted was to kiss her again, and he ignored her question, trying to reach for her. Slipping from his grasp, she clucked her tongue and crossed crossed her arms. "If you want another kiss, you will have to answer the question," she teased. Connor crossing his arms and laughed softly at her little game. Cora pressed on, not waiting for a response. "If we are to infiltrate a ball, you should know how to dance," she said, trying to add reason to her words and find an excuse for the request of a dance.
Truthfully, Connor knew enough about their dance customs to get by – Achilles had made sure his training was quite thorough, saying that one never knew what skill would be needed to blend in. As a young man, he had never imagined he would make use of it, but it was yet another thing that Achilles had been right about. Still, he only humored her, shrugging.
Cora took his reaction as a no. "It is quite easy, really," she said, situating herself in front of him. "First, you bow," she said, gesturing to him. "And then I curtsey." Cora dipped into an elegant curtsey, and then proceeded to show him a few of the dances they were likely to see. He caught on well enough, but as they completed the movements, mirroring each other as they moved in patterns, she could feel the pull between them. All she wanted was to be in his arms, to kiss him again, without concern of being discovered. As she made to take his hands and turn together at arms length as the dance dictated, he caught her waist, pulling her to him. One hand settled against the small of her back as the other took her free hand, and they continued that way as the music, muffled by the walls but still audible, seemed to deepen the emotion of the moment.
Cora sighed, slightly disappointed by how easily he had caught on. "How are you good at everything?"
"I am hardly good at everything," he said, smiling down at her. "I must admit, I knew how to dance already," he admitted. Cora scoffed at him, albeit a bit sarcastically, pretending to be horrified.
"And you let me make a fool out of myself trying to teach you?" She poked his shoulder, reprimanding him, but he only laughed, and soon she found herself giggling in his arms. Eventually, they both grew quiet, and Cora leaned into him, her anxiety returning as she thought about the mission. She leaned her head against his chest, sighing, and her more sullen demeanor did not escape Connor's notice.
"What is it," he asked gently, pulling back to look at her. She was quiet for a moment, consumed in her own thoughts.
"What if I can't do it," she said finally, voicing the thoughts that had been consuming her for the past few days. "What if I can't fight, and I fail, or you get hurt, or..."
"You will do fine," he said, taking her face in his hands. "I know you will. And I will be right there with you."
"I just don't see how... so soon after my injury..."
"Cora," he said softly, drawing her eyes to his. "We can delay it if you need to. There will be other chances..."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You have waited long enough."
"It is not about me. If you are not ready, no one blames you for that. But do not let fear be the reason you do not go." Cora sighed again, looking away. "It is your call. You suggested this mission, you decide. I trust whatever decision you make."
At that, she kissed him, long and tender. His trust and support meant more than she could ever say. Even more, it was nice to not have to be strong all of the time in front of him, to feel able to express her worries without being thought of as weak or incapable. For so many years, it had been her who was the unwavering pillar of strength for Jane, and though at the time she had thought it a good thing, it was so much more freeing to let herself feel, to be vulnerable... And she was no less strong for it. It had taken her a long time to realize that emotion and strength were not opposites, that they could coexist, that they should. She had been worse off denying her emotions for so long than she would have been had she allowed herself access to her feelings.
It was easy to say that now, though. Before, it had been survival. Cora knew she could not be too hard on herself for the decisions she had made in such circumstances. At least now she knew that she didn't have to do it anymore.
Connor could see her grappling with something, by the way her broad smile had faded into a neutral expression and her eyes had focused on something beyond him. "What are you thinking about?"
His voice took her from her thoughts, and she shook her head as her hands found a place on her hips, her palms against her back. "Nothing," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Nothing to be worried about, anyway."
Though her words were truthful, she could see that Connor was not quite convinced. "If there is anything you wish to speak of, I am here to listen to you." His voice was gentle and his words genuine, and Cora could hardly keep from smiling at how treasured it made her feel. Stepping closer, she raised her hand to his cheek, her thumb resting at the corner of his mouth.
"I know," she said softly, giving a small smile. "And I can't thank you enough for it." Cora rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed him on the cheek, and when she lowered herself back to her normal stature, she kept her arms about him. "You must know that I am always here for you, too," she said. She could almost instantly see his walls raise, and though it disheartened her, she did not take it too personally. Though she did not understand why he still hesitated to be more open with her, she knew it did not come from a place of distrust or malice. She would only need to patient, and though it wasn't exactly one of her virtues, she knew it was what he needed. Gently, she took his face in her hands, tipping his chin down so he would look at her.
"You do know that, don't you?"
For a moment, he only stared back at her, eyes blank and brows furrowed, but then he relaxed under her touch and nodded, squeezing her arms gently.
"I of all people understand that keeping things inside only makes them fester and grow into something that steals from your mind..." Cora ran her thumb across his cheek. "You have no need to keep anything from me."
Connor moved his hands to her back, pulling her into a tighter embrace. "I know."
Then, Cora smiled broadly and gave him a quick kiss before settling against him. They stood there for a while, content in each others' embrace, before Connor pulled away.
"You should rest," he suggested. "It is late."
"We both should," she agreed, "if we are to be ready for tomorrow."
"So you wish to continue with the plan?"
"Yes," she confirmed. "I'm just a little anxious about my shoulder, is all..."
"If all goes to plan, you won't have to worry about being in combat at all."
"True enough," she shrugged. "But then again, when does anything ever go to plan?" Cora teased. Connor shook his head at her, letting out a breath of a laugh as they made their way inside.
She was alone in her room undressing for the night when she realized how deep the implications of those words ran. Truly, nothing had gone to plan since she had met Connor. She had not planned to become tied up in the Assassin cause, to form friendships or be so seriously injured. She had not imagined that she would become fond of Achilles and the people who lived on the homestead, or that she would be so near to the end of summer and still not be any closer to Oliver. What struck her most of all, though, was that coming to care for Connor had been the farthest thing from what she could ever have dreamed as a possibility. There had been no allowances for love and trust and companionship in her plans, but oh, how better off she was that things had gone a different way than she had originally hoped.
Victoire had not yet joined her in the room they were sharing, but neither had Cora seen her downstairs when she had come inside. Cora smiled to herself as she removed the last articles of clothing, leaving her in only her shift, imagining that Victoire was probably off somewhere sneaking away with Duncan. Oh, how she couldn't wait to let her have it, after all the teasing the woman had put her through with Connor.
Cora had scarcely lain down before she decided she did not want to sleep alone in this room, not when she was so anxious about the mission. Deep down, she knew perhaps it was not the best idea to sneak away to see Connor when they hadn't even spoken of sharing the nature of their relationship with the others. The night was early, though, and most of the others remained downstairs, drinking and talking with some of the regular patrons. She could hear their music and laughter, and figured that they wouldn't be like to even notice that she had slipped into Connor's room. Only Victoire would stand a chance of noticing her absence, that is if she ever returned to their room.
Quietly, she made her way across the hall, her shawl wrapped about her despite the heat of the night in hopes that any passers by would not realize her lack of attire. Checking once more for any unwelcome observers, she slipped through the door and closed it softly behind her. When she finally turned she fell back against the door and gasped, her hand flying to her chest when she saw Conner, not having expected him to already have retired for the night. He had pulled Strephane aside to talk when the had come back into the tavern, and Cora had imagined that he would not be coming upstairs for a while.
"You scared me," she rasped, letting her shawl fall from her shoulders and folding it against her chest. Connor raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face.
"I apologize, I should have known better than to come to my own room unannounced," he teased, crossing his arms. Cora blushed, a little embarrassed.
"I thought you wouldn't be here," she said quickly, still pressed against the door.
Connor shrugged, humoring her. "I can leave if you want. My apologies, madam." He made to bow, but Cora caught his arms, laughing.
"Stop it," she said in a hushed tone. "That's not what I meant and you know it!"
Connor chuckled, leaning over to remove his boots but still maintaining eye contact, growing rather serious as he began to wonder about the reason for her presence. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," Cora shrugged, slightly embarrassed at having to admit that she was too anxious to sleep alone. "I just... Victoire isn't back yet, and I didn't want to be alone."
"You do not care if the others notice you staying with me?"
"No," she admitted, shrugging. "Not really." Connor raised an eyebrow as he set his boots by the wall, making to remove the jacket of his robes. "Do you?" Cora's voice faltered a bit, filling with uncertainty at his answer. She did not fear that he was ashamed of her, but she didn't want to presume anything.
He did not take more than a second to answer, though, shaking his head as he shrugged out of his robes. Cora tried not to pay attention to the fact that he was removing one article of clothing after another, but her eyes dropped for a moment, eliciting a smirk from Connor. "No," he said, voicing his answer. "I'm not entirely sure they don't suspect something already," he admitted, resting a hand on the nearby chair as he stood before her in only his breeches and shirt.
"So you don't mind? If I stay, I mean," she said, stumbling over her words and feeling rather foolish that she, a grown woman, was too anxious to sleep alone...
"Of course not," he said, as if concerned she felt the need to even ask the question. "The bed is a bit small, but..."
Cora nearly snorted at his observation, making her way to it as she drew the covers back, leaving only the thin sheet, knowing that it was still far too hot to sleep with anything more. "I suppose I'll make do," she teased as Connor put out the candles, leaving only the one nearest to the bed. Cora lay down, an exhausted sigh passing her lips once she was still and settled. She watched as Connor pulled his shirt over his head, trying to control the way her stomach twisted with desire as she observed the way the dim light fell against his bare skin. Connor locked the door and blew out the last candle, and after a few moments she felt him climb in next to her, pulling the thin blanket up around them before finding her in the dark and pulling her close. Once they were settled, Cora sighed in contentment and felt her anxiety ease slightly, knowing that Connor was with her, and would be through whatever happened tomorrow. She found it hard to focus on her fears while in the arms of the man she so cared for, and soon her breathing slowed and she fell into sleep.
North of Boston, Massachusetts
"It's a bad idea," his wife warned for the countless time. Ever since he had told her his plans and asked her opinion, she had been vehemently opposed to the proposal, wasting no chance to remind him that it wasn't a good idea. Finally, she had come around and agreed that he should go, if only so that he would have peace in his life once again. Though she was unhappy about it, she agreed to let him go, and he had not expected her to again speak so fiercely against it right before he was to leave. The thought of leaving behind an unhappy wife only made things harder.
"Felicity, please," the man pleaded, not looking at her as he readied the last of his things. "You know what this means to me."
The woman sighed and put her hands on her hips, her resolve weakened by her husband's heartfelt pleas. "I do, but... You do not even know her. You do not know where she is, what she's doing..." Her husband sighed and dropped his head, resting his weight against the dresser. He knew he would not find her the same person, for she was a woman grown by now, and who knew what she had been through. Yet though he had prepared himself that perhaps she would not want to see him again or would not recognize him, that she might not be happy or safe or unmarked by tragedy, he could not entertain the thought of the other option. He had already lost so much, and he had to know whether she was alive. He had to.
Felicity's arms wrapped around his, and she kissed his shoulder, holding him tightly. "I just... I want you to be prepared that you might not find her at all," she said gently, trying to choose her words carefully. "Or that if you do, she might not be..." She trailed off, sighing. He knew what she meant to say.
"I know," he said, turning to her and taking her in his arms, trying to comfort her as much as himself. "I must know what has come of her. I will have no peace until I do."
Felicity knew in her heart there was no changing his mind, as much as she wanted to. Such a journey would be dangerous, and she did not want to even imagine having to explain to their son that his father would not be coming home.
"Just come home to me," she whispered against his chest, clutching to the fabric of his shirt as she tried not to cry. "Come home to us."
"I will," he said, embracing her tightly and trying to give what comfort he could. "I promise."
He had every intention of coming home, that was true enough. But what he did not speak out loud, for the sake of his wife, was that he would not - could not - return to every day life until he had brought his sister home with him.
New York City
August 11, 1781
Cora cursed under her breath as they approached the large manor and spotted the guards speaking to each guest before they entered.
"What is it," Connor asked, his voice quiet so that only she could hear.
"There have never been guards before. Oliver must have warned those he works with..." Cora bit her lip, her hands tightening around Connor's arm as she thought of what to do. She could bribe them, or they could try to sneak past, but neither options were the scenario Cora had hoped for. Getting into these parties had always been so easy, and this seemed to be the one obstacle she had not foreseen.
"It is your call."
Cora was quiet for a moment, straining to get a better look at the guards. In all likelihood, James Talley had hired men to keep his home safe and his party free from unwelcome guests such as themselves. Cora could not see Oliver sparing him any men while he himself was so determined to catch her.
"What are you doing?" Connor asked as she squinted, trying to get a better look at the guards.
"Trying to see their faces. If the Templars taught me anything, it is that every sellsword has their price. If the guards are hired men, I am sure we can pay them off, or get through some other way..."
"If not?"
"Well," she paused. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Connor looked unsure, not willing to take any chances and ruin the opportunity to get the map of Fort George. He trusted her, though – Cora knew these people and this place well, and he had faith that she would call the mission and find another plan if it seemed too risky.
When the guard approached them, Cora seemed completely carefree.
"Invitation," the man remarked in a bored monotone. Despite the fact that he seemed he would rather be anywhere else but checking the invitations of party guests , he looked them over carefully. Cora gasped, groaning as she threw her head towards Connor, feigning exasperation.
"Oh, I just knew there was something I forgot," she moaned. "You see, Mr. Talley has never done these formal invitations before, and I suppose it just slipped my mind! Couldn't you just let us in? I'm sure it won't be a problem."
The guard did not hesitate in blocking their way. "I'm sorry, but you can't come in without presenting an invitation."
Cora sighed again, feigning frustration. "Sir, I would gladly retrieve my invitation, but by the time I got back it would be far too late! I did not put on these skirts and stays for nothing," she teased, trying to draw a smile from him. Instead, the guard stared back at her, unamused.
"You must leave," he said again, starting to usher the next group forward. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor saw Cora's hand fly to her chest, and then she grabbed his hand, turning him back.
"I understand. Continue your good work, sir. It is just a shame that my husband will not be able to talk to his business partners as they planned," she lamented, patting his hand. "Hopefully Mr. Talley and his associates will understand." The guard's hand closed into a fist, as if holding onto something, and he looked between them with uncertainty.
"Go ahead," he said in a strained voice, slipping his hand into his pocket as he waved them through with the other. Once they were out of the sight of the guards, Connor turned to her. She was making a rather poor attempt to hide her satisfaction and pride at how it had gone, and she smiled, her lips tight as she tried to keep it in. She had nearly forgotten all about the thrill of deceit, at least where her enemies were concerned. They took their place among the crowd and Cora began surveying the room, looking for any sign of those who would recognize her. Yet though Cora was on edge, one had paid them a second glance.
"You can say it," she said a few moments later, making conversation as they both observed the crowd, looking for the one man they did need to find.
"Say what?"
"That I am brilliant," she laughed, her nose crinkling as Connor looked skeptically down at her. It was those little things he loved most about her – the crinkling of her nose just before she laughed, the light in her face when she teased him, the fire in her eyes when she was angry or determined or caught a stubborn streak...
"How did you know it would work," he inquired.
Cora shrugged. "Those guards are sellswords. If I learned anything with the Templars, it's that every sellsword has their price." Connor nodded, but didn't get a chance to say anything in return before she leaned closer to him. "Dance with me," she said, her voice low and breathy. Connor furrowed his brow, unsure why she seemed to be so casual considering the circumstances. Seeing his hesitation, Cora spoke again.
"Come, we will get a better view of the room," she whispered. Connor considered this, realizing she meant to search for the man they needed, but before he had a chance to respond, music began. Cora winked and turned to join them, leaving Connor to follow, a smile at his lips. He felt rather foolish doing these ridiculous dances, but he yearned to see the joy it brought her. As they joined the lines of other guests and stood across from each other, he felt as though for a moment he could forget the real reason they were there. Compared to the more lively dances that had been going on when they arrived, this song was slower and the melody simpler, the dance much more stately.
As she curtsied, Cora looked up at him, the slightest of smiles breaking through her calm expression. She could see the way he was watching her, how intently his eyes roamed over her. When he had first seen her, the look on his face alone had made her blush. Victoire had put far too much into her appearance, and while for all her efforts Cora felt beautiful, she also felt rather ridiculous in the yellow dress with all the proper stays and petticoats. At the very least, she had been able to convince Victoire to style her hair in a simple bun, one large papillote curl draped over her shoulder in a nod to the current fashion, instead of the complicated huge coif that she surely would have attempted otherwise.
Connor looked rather handsome, as well. He had wanted to wear his captain's uniform, not wanting to go through the trouble of finding something else to wear, but Victoire forbade it, insisting that he would blend in better if he dressed as the majority of the other men would. Reluctantly, he had agreed, and though Cora was still yet to see him wear his captain's uniform, he looked rather handsome in the more common formal clothes. Of course, she was not sure there was anything he could wear that would make him appear unattractive.
The dance began, and Cora surveyed the room as her movements made her pass him, her eyes searching for her target. The thrill of it was running through her veins, and she almost felt transported to the time when she enjoyed this. Truth be told, she was enjoying herself – she loved the thrill of a mission, the excitement and danger... Perhaps that made her a bad person, but she felt little remorse about her feelings. If all went to plan, no one would die today. There would be no killing or injury, save a little bump on the head. What was the shame in enjoying the puzzle of a mission?
As the dance brought her and Connor close for a moment, he spoke to her in a low, teasing voice. "What else do you have tucked away in your dress," he asked, referring to the coins she had pulled out earlier. Cora laughed, tipping her head back as she moved away, circling someone else's partner as the dance required, but her eyes never leaving Connor's. She had mischief in her eyes, and when she approached him again, she let her hand glide across his back when she passed behind him.
"Perhaps later you can see for yourself," she suggested, biting her lip for good measure. She had to stifle a giggle at the look on his face, but when it was his turn to circle her, her smile disappeared.
"Careful," he warned, enjoying the breathy sound of surprise that came from her lips when he let his hand drag against her back. "Or I may forsake this mission and heed your words."
Cora said nothing more, for fear she might lose whatever focus on what she was supposed to be doing. When the dance finally ended, Cora led him to a crowded part of the room where they would blend in more easily. As they made their way through the guests assembling for another dance, Cora tried to rein herself in. She could feel his presence behind her, and that alone threatened to undo her. She knew she had allowed them to stray too far from their goal, and she sighed. Never before would she have let herself become so distracted...
Determined to get what she came for, she set out searching the crowd once they were tucked away among the other guests. Several dances passed and still there was no sign of him, and Cora grew frustrated and impatient.
"He will be here," Connor said, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. Cora nodded, but anxiety swirled in her belly, and she wondered if she had missed her chance. They stood amongst the people, making occasional casual conversation. Cora sipped at the wine she had been handed, trying to retain whatever patience she had left as she searched face after face.
Connor could see how nervous she was, though she tried to hide it. It was not an easy thing to come back from such an injury, and even though she was not going to be engaging in any serious fighting, she was still obviously anxious at the fact that she did not yet have the full strength of her shoulder and arm. He had tried to comfort her, but there was only so much he could do – the rest had to come from her own will and determination. At least in that, he knew she had no lack of abundance.
Suddenly, her face drained of color, her eyes widening in shock.
"What is it," he asked. His voice was intense but hushed, and he dared not look for himself in case doing so would alert someone to their location. At his words, she finally took a breath, downing the rest of her wine in one gulp.
"It's him," she muttered, her voice muffled under her hand as she wiped her mouth. "I thought..." she paused, craning her neck as she watched him move about behind Connor. "He looks so much like Henry, for a second I..." she spoke in a small voice, glancing down as she trailed off.
He grabbed her hand and her eyes rose to his, her gaze now hard and focused. Any words he might have said to support her would not come. He could only look at her and hope that she knew he trusted her, that he was here if something went wrong... Their plan was well worked out, and he knew at what point to come looking for her if things went awry. He could not even tell what she was feeling anyway, so hard with determination her look was. Before he could react, she had squeezed his hand and slipped away, making for the man across the room. Connor watched as she bumped into him, then pretended to apologize, her eyes bright and her demeanor animated. The only thought that came to mind then was the first day they had met, and how similar her tactic had been with him.
Thw two fell into conversation easily, and soon Cora was laughing some joke he told as she touched his arm. She made sure his wine glass was never empty, and it was not long before the man was obviously drunk, evidently having had quite a bit before Cora had even gotten to him. When she rose on her toes to whisper in the man's ear, Connor turned away, making another survey of the crowd for unfriendly faces. Oddly, he found himself unable to turn back and look at them. It wasn't jealousy, per say – he and Cora had discussed every part of the plan before in great detail so nothing came as a surprise, and he was not concerned that she would have affections for any other man, anyway. What really bothered him was the ease to which it all came to her – a sad reminder of all she had been forced to endure before they had met. For a moment, he almost felt guilty at agreeing to this, letting her bring such things up again, but he knew if she thought it outrageous or offensive, she would have made it known. Still, though, as he watched her accompany him up the stairs, he could not help but feel unsettled.
Cora had meant to meet Connor's eyes before she disappeared down the hallway, to make sure things were well, but she had turned her head too late, and so she clutched a little tighter to Henry's cousin's arm, trying to keep him from stumbling over. Benjamin Talley was far more drunk than she had anticipated, and with any luck, he would pass out on his own before she even had the chance to depose of him.
"Careful there, Mr. Talley," she warned, propping him up as he tripped over his own feet.
"'Spose I 'ad too mush," he said, words so horribly slurred that she could hardly make them out.
"Aye," she agreed with a laugh. "Perhaps a bit of rest is all you need to recover your wit," she said sweetly, opening the door for him. Truly, the man had not been horrible. He seemed sweet and gentle enough, perhaps a bit slow in wits, but she almost felt badly for him. At first, he had been rather shy, but the wine had loosened his tongue soon enough. Still, it was Cora who had to suggest they go upstairs. In her time, she had practiced many different roles – bold seductress, coy maiden, desperate widow... From proper lady to poor beggar, she had been made to play them all, yet none before had been so shy and gently dispositioned that she had been the one to have to make suggestions.
"I on' wanna waste my time wif sush a pretty lady," he protested as she sat him on the bed.
"Not to worry, Mr. Talley. You may always call on me some other time," she said, voice full of suggestion as she gave a shallow curtsey, the man slowly leaning backwards as she spoke. "I am afraid propriety calls me to take my leave."
He jolted up and blurted out some odd bark of a word that Cora thought may be an attempt at asking her to wait, and grabbed her hand, sloppily placing a kiss on her wrist. She had to bite back a laugh at his ridiculous behavior, but managed to keep it together well enough. "You never said your name," he insisted, his words oddly clear for the state he was in.
"Mr. Talley, how have you forgotten? I am sure I must have told you half a dozen times by now."
"Memory's not so good," he said, words blurring into each other once again. "'Ope you'll 'scuse me. Too much, you see," he said again, as if it was some secret between them.
Cora laughed daintily, then leaned closer. "My name is Mary. Mary Pennington," she whispered. Of the many aliases she had carried over the years, Mary Pennington was among her least used and least likely to be discovered, though she was sure that Mr. Talley would be rather unable to remember the night's events come the morning. Oddly, it struck her then how strange it was that she now would be put more in danger by the use of the false name she had assumed rather than the name her parents had given her. The name of Radha Reilly would mean nothing to any living soul. Except Connor, she reminded herself. And her brother, if God was so merciful...
"'Ary 'Ennyton," he said slowly, a smile spreading across his face as he lay back in the bed again. "'As a nice name."
"Aye, Benjamin," she said, watching carefully as he closed his eyes, on the verge of passing out. "It is."
As soon as she confirmed that he would not be waking up any time soon, Cora went to work. Benjamin Talley's desk was a disarray of letters, ledgers and maps. From what she had found out from Dobby's report, the elder Talley, in charge of new fortifications, had put his son in charge of ensuring Fort George was properly supplied and outfitted, the workers properly assigned and compensated. She had no doubt a map would be in his possession. As she shuffled through the papers, a name jumped out at her, and her heart lurched within her chest. Oliver. Pulling the papers out, her eyes flew over the words. Unfortunately, none of the letters gave her particular insight as to where he was, or even what his plans were. His letters were vague, always answering questions and never giving much else in terms of information that might interest her. Disappointed, she sighed, setting them down again. As she continued to search through the mass of papers on Benjamin Talley's desk, she came across another letter, this time one addressed to Oliver. As she turned it over, searching for an address of any sort, her heart thumped wildly, and an anxious sweat built at her brow. Her eyes moved so wildly due to her nerves that she almost missed the fine print at the bottom. Oliver Randel, Fort William.
So he was close... Even in the same city. The very thought of it made her hands ache for a weapon to fill them... A small part of her almost had a mind to head straight there, but that was obviously foolish, and she did not even indulge the thought. Sighing, she continued, redirecting her attention to the search of what she had come here for in the first place. Sure enough, a map lay near the bottom of the mess of papers, and she held it up to the light, triumphant. Not only was it a detailed rendition, but it even included drawings of the fortifications that were to be built, which would mean there would be no surprises at the day of infiltration. As she made to lay it on the table and begin rendering her copy, her eye caught sight of strange lines on the back. Turning the parchment over revealed a strange set of geometric patterns, almost resembling some sort of maze... Cora furrowed her brows, trying to make sense of it, but her guesses were interrupted by voices in the hall. Voices that were headed towards her.
Instantly, she flew into action, trying her best to rearrange the papers as they had appeared before she had arrived. As the voices came closer, she grew frantic and quickly folded the map, stuffing it into her pockets, her eyes searching for any place to hide. There was a wardrobe, but in such a large dress, it would be impossible... Even under the bed, a last resort in any situation, was out of the question. Just as she heard them outside the door, her eyes fell on an alcove in the corner of the room, divided by a heavy curtain. She had no way of knowing what lay behind it, but it was her only option, and so she made for it, her steps as light as possible.
No sooner had she secured the curtain back into its place that two people entered the room, one voice terrifyingly familiar.
"That bastard never knows when to quit when it comes to good wine." Thomas. Cora was hardly the one to freeze in fear, but in that moment, she felt the breath leave her chest. If he caught her here, now, Connor may never even know there was danger before she was dead.
"Hush," a woman's voice said, chastising as only a mother would. Anne Bundy – mother of Henry and Thomas, aunt to Benjamin and sister to James Talley, their most gracious host. Cora had not met the woman, but from what little Henry had spoken of her, she knew not to underestimate her.
While Thomas seemed to be joking about the state of his cousin, his mother obviously was not so amused. "Did you not see a woman enter with him?"
"No," Thomas said, his voice turning dark. "Should I alert the guards?"
"Perhaps it is nothing," the woman said coolly. "No doubt the good lady she left as soon as my charming nephew succumbed to his drink. Intimacy is rather boring when one party is asleep."
Thomas chuckled. "True enough. I do, however, have some doubt that Benjamin was able to convince some wench to join him... Although perhaps I underestimate him."
"All the same, I would like you to alert your uncle to be sure he is paying attention. The guards seemed to be thorough enough, but I have no doubt someone may have slipped through. I warned him to be done with this ridiculous parties. Especially in times such as these."
"Aye. I will see to it."
Cora could hear Thomas leave, but the mother lingered a few moments longer, and Cora held her breath, trying not to move, as even the lightest rustle of her skirt could alert the woman to her presence. Her heart beat wildly as she waited silently, too afraid to even breathe, and though it seemed an eternity, the woman finally left. Cora waited a long while before she dared to venture out from behind the curtain, and when she did, she made straight for the door. There was no time to linger or copy the map. All she could do was hope that Benjamin would presume he had misplaced it.
Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand on the knob, saying a silent prayer before she opened it. A quick glance out the door showed an empty hallway, and she let out a quiet breath of relief before closing the door as gently as possible. As soon as she heard the latch click into place, she started down the hall, anxious to find Connor and leave as soon as possible. When she was halfway out of the hall, she gave one more glance behind her shoulder before turning the corner that would lead to the grand stair, and a satisfied smile spread across her lips.
When she turned her head back, though, her heart nearly stopped and the smile fled from her face. Before her stood Anne Bundy, and though she had never seen her before, she knew certainly that it was the same woman who had been in that room only minutes earlier. Even if she had not expected the woman to be here this night, she would not have missed it – Henry looked just like his mother, and the likeness was impossible to ignore. She stood frozen by the woman's glare for a few moments, her heart twisting in her chest. Cora had not expected the woman to stick around and wait to corner her. When she finally overcame the shock of it, regaining her wits, she forced herself to smile as she made to pass her. "My apologies, I can be so careless," she said as she attempted to step aside. The woman gave no visible response, save tipping her head back slightly and narrowing her eyes.
"So you are her," she said, her voice low and calm, yet full with the type of buried anger that made Cora's stomach turn in knots. This had not been the plan...
"I am sure I have no idea what you mean. You must be mistaking me for another," she said with a smile, trying once more to walk past her. The woman stepped to the side with her, though, blocking her way.
"I believe you know exactly to what I am referring," she said, grabbing Cora's arm. "Come, I would like to speak with you. Woman to woman." Helpless unless she wanted to cause a scene and set all the guards after her, Cora let herself be led from the grand stair back into the hall. As they passed the rail, she searched for Connor, hoping he had seen what was happening, but she could not find his face among the crowd. Once they were alone and out of sight of any others, Cora slid from her grasp, taking a step away.
"You are Cora Anderson," Anne said, unfazed by how forcefully the younger woman had wrenched her arm free. Cora stood silently for a moment, weighing her options. At first, she had thought the woman would lead her straight to her son or other nephews, perhaps even her brother. Instead, it seemed that she truly was just talking, and so Cora nodded slowly, trying to take stock of the woman's demeanor.
"You knew my son." It was not a question, and the woman's face betrayed no emotion either.
"Yes."
"And you killed him."
At that, Cora's eyes widened, and she took a step backwards, hurt by the mere suggestion of it.
"Is that what they told you? I never-"
"It matters not if it was you or another who pulled the trigger," Mrs. Bundy interrupted. "Your actions led him to death."
At that, Cora narrowed her eyes, no longer willing to be passive in the conversation. "Tell that to your living son, who stood by quietly as Oliver pulled the trigger."
"Thomas obeyed orders. Stayed true to his family, his cause... And so would have Henry, if you had not been there to corrupt him."
"Henry was a good man," Cora said, stepping towards her. "No thanks to you, who forced him into violence so young. No thanks to his elder brother, who conditioned him to believe such brutality was normal. If you had let him be, he would be alive and happy," Cora said, stepping closer to her as her finger shot out accusingly.
Though Cora could feel the other woman grow angry, nothing showed on her face. She simply lowered Cora's hand and spoke in a low, threatening voice. "Why are you here?"
The lie came easily. "I came to find you, but it seems as though my efforts were doomed from the start."
"And what would you want with me?"
"To tell you that I knew your son, and I loved him, even if not in the way he wanted me to. And to let you know he was buried properly, with dignity. Oliver and Thomas left his body to rot. It was us who took on the duty of it."
Mrs. Bundy was quiet for a while, and Cora thought she had gotten through to her, but then she laughed softly, shaking her head. "You are a good liar. It is among the things us women must master, if we desire any power in this world." For a moment, she looked upon Cora with an odd sort of respect, but then her eyes narrowed once again. "What is it that you really want?"
"Justice," she said easily. "For what was done to me, to my friends. For my family. For your son, as it seems you care not to give it to him yourself." It was not a lie this time, even if perhaps it was not her exact purpose this night. The older woman laughed dismissively.
"You think you are so clever with your tricks and lies. Burning that house was especially good. Oliver was quite angry." Her face darkening, she narrowed her eyes, speaking rather ominously. "You do not know what is coming for you."
"Nothing could be worse than what has already been done," Cora said, dismissing her. Instead, the woman only smiled, a satisfied look on her face.
Anne considered her words for a few moments, raising her chin and observing Cora before she spoke with a chilling tone. "You were a fool for coming here tonight." Almost as soon as she spoke, Cora saw Thomas enter the hall, but his face was turned away in search of something else, and he did not see her. Wide eyed, she fled from the hall, not giving the woman a second glance, as she knew she could waste no time.
Mrs. Bundy calmly preceded to the stair rail where she had a view of the grand hall, but did not move further. When she heard her son come up behind her, she inclined her head toward him, eyes on the woman pushing through the crowd and grabbing a man, no doubt the Assassin, pulling him along with her as she tried to flee. She spoke calmly. "Alert your uncle. We have unwelcome guests."
Connor had been turned in another direction when Cora had grabbed him by the arm, practically throwing guests aside as she pulled him towards the exit. Bewildered, he had tried to ask her what happened, but she only shook her head and shushed him, her lips pressed tightly together. It was only once they were outside that she finally spoke.
"They know we are here," she said, condensing everything into a few words. "We have to leave. Now." Her voice was low, no doubt in an effort to escape the hearing of the guards, and Connor did not respond, only giving one curt nod in response. Though he tried to appear as any other guest, he could not help his hand from straying to his tomahawk, which was concealed beneath his coat. She seemed well enough, if not a little rattled, and though he wanted to ask what had happened and if she was alright, he did not dare. Her grip on his arm relaxed as they passed the first set of guards, though a quick glance to her face showed she was an anxious mess. He could only imagine what she was feeling, having been so afraid to engage in combat and now facing the reality of it. Before, she had been so sure and confident when confronted with the chance of battle, and seeing her so nervous and eager to avoid it was still odd.
Once the second set of guards was behind them, he felt her relax even further.
"Are you alright?" He finally asked. She managed a nod, but he could tell she was consumed by anxiety as she glanced behind her, her hands like iron shackles about his arm.
"Thomas was there," she explained. Connor said nothing in response, but she knew he understood what it meant. Cora had thought herself unafraid of him now, but his presence unsettled her more than she would have liked to admit. Perhaps she had not fully recovered her confidence after the night of her injury, after all.
They were nearly to the road when a guard approached them, calling out to Cora.
"Miss," he said, his voice amicable enough that neither drew there weapons right away. "I believe you dropped this." Cora took a deep breath before turning, trying to calm her nerves. When she turned, he held up a ribbon that had come loose from her hair, and her hand flew to her bun as she laughed in surprise.
"Oh, how careless of me. Thank you! That is my favorite ribbon, Lord knows I would have been devastated to have found it lost upon my return home," she said cheerfully as she took it from him. He held no torch, but the night was made bright by the fullness of the moon, and she could see the guard studying her face when she came closer. He said nothing, but she could see his brows furrow as she tied the ribbon back into her hair. Not wanting to wait around for him to put two and two together, she curtseyed, nodding her head toward him. "Good night, sir."
She and Connor had just turned when the man spoke, his voice now more strained. "My I inquire of your names?"
"May I ask why you need know," Connor inquired. When they turned to face him again, he was not alone. Two men flanked him, and Cora could feel Connor tense beside her.
"There have been some strange happenings in the manor house, madam. Mr. Talley has instructed us to take the names of all who leave."
Cora glanced at Connor before speaking. "Mrs. Jane Tolbert, if it please you. This is my husband, Mr. Edmund Tolbert." The men looked between each other, but said not a word, and Cora found herself unable to wait for their reaction. "Are we being interrogated, sir, or are we free to go?"
One of the men from behind stepped forward, his face shadowed in the dark and his voice rather ominous. "As much as I would like to, I do not believe that is your name, madam." More guards arrived then, swords drawn, and Cora's hand slid to her throwing knives, carefully stowed under the drapes of her dress. Connor drew his weapon, extending his arm in front of Cora and laying a gentle hand on her arm, as if to push her behind him. She could see even more armed men approaching from the direction of the manor, and Connor turned to look at her as he whistled, signaling the Assassins she knew lay in waiting in case something went wrong. Staring back, she tried to conceal her fear, but she knew it would not escape his notice.
As he lunged forward to meet the attack of the first guard, two came towards her. Her knife easily found the first one and he fell to the ground, hand clutching at his chest, but the second was too fast, and before she knew it she was face to face with him. In her peripheral vision she could see how many men Connor was trying to fend off, and as she saw one come at him from behind, she looked again for the Assassins, but to her dismay found none. They were supposed to be waiting close by, and it was all she could do not to think of what may have happened to them, and what might occur if they didn't show up.
The guard was armed with a sword, and Cora slid her knife back into the pouch at her side, knowing it would be no help. With a little deception and a good read of his body language, she was able to disarm him easy enough, despite the hindrance of her dress. Instead of taking control of his sword, though, it dropped just out of her reach, and he took advantage of her lapse of attention as she watched it fall. The man slammed her against the ground, and she cried out as she landed on her weak shoulder, the still healing muscles straining in a way that was far from comfortable. From there, it was like watching everything in slow motion.
As the man forced her to her knees, another guard having handed him his lost sword, Cora could do nothing but watch as Connor, now left vulnerable, looked to her after being alerted by her cry of pain. By the time he turned back, too many men had encircled him. Though he attempted to fight anyway, she could tell he was badly outnumbered. They disarmed him quickly, pushing him to his knees as well, two of them holding his arms behind him as another pointed a pistol at him to keep him from trying anything.
"Talley wants this one alive," one of them said, motioning to Connor. "Kill the girl."
She strained against the guard's hold as she heard someone unsheathe their sword, and fear overcame her as she searched for Connor in the dark. His eyes were wide and he breathed heavily, but though he had tried to escape their grasp, it had gotten him nothing but a knee to the back and a gun up against his temple. As the armed guard approached her, she struggled again, trying to untangle her feet from her skirts and get leverage enough to try and stand or move in some other way. It was no use. That damned dress...
It was death or an attempt at escaping, and so she went still. As she had hoped, the guard loosened his grip just enough. Cora did not struggle, instead laying in wait until the man drew near. When he was before her, his sword at the ready, she rolled to the side, taking the man who held her along. He let go as they struggled in the grass, but though she hiked up her skirts and tried to rise to her feet, the hindrance of her dress left her slow and clumsy. She was nearly to her feet when someone grabbed her by the bun at the nape of her neck, dragging her to her feet as she grunted, her hands flying behind her to try and alleviate some of the pressure.
Then, a voice spoke behind her that made her feel as though she would throw up. Thomas... "Oliver wants this one alive and well."
At that, fear left her, leaving only anger burning through her veins as Thomas dragged her closer to the group of men that held Connor, doubtlessly so that he would be forced to watch and listen to whatever it was that Thomas was planning on doing.
"It has been too long," Thomas said in her ear, his free hand moving to her neck. Cora stared straight ahead, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted. She was tired of being treated this way. This would be the last time Thomas would touch her, of that much she was certain. His fingers dug into her skin, making their way down the front of her neck to just above her breasts, but before he could do anything else, she slapped his hand away, furious. He gave a low chuckle, but then grabbed her more forcefully, holding her closer against him. "Perhaps we have to become reacquainted," he whispered sadistically. Connor strained against his captors then, his eyes murderous and his gaze locked upon Thomas. Thomas only laughed, however, his words now directed at Connor.
"Looks like I was right all along! The whore has taken his bed, after all." Cora felt sick as he spoke, even more so as she watched one of them knee Connor hard in the belly. He doubled over but did not make a sound, and though she jolted at the sight of it and turned her face away, she knew not to utter a single word in protest. Thomas would only continue it if she voiced her displeasure. At least he was not like Oliver in that way, Oliver who would continue his cruelties until one begged him to stop, and only then would switch his target. Cora closed her eyes, trying to think of a way to get out of this. Despite all her experience and wit, though, she could think of nothing, at least not in the situation she was currently in. If anything, she would have to wait until they took her from this place... Perhaps then she would be able to come up with something.
A whistle came to her ears then, and her eyes flew open as she heard the shrill sting of steel upon steel. Thomas turned, obviously surprised, and Cora caught sight of Dobby, Clipper and Victoire making their way towards them, having easily disposed of a few guards already. Though there were only three and Cora had expected at least five, she was not sure she had seen a more welcome sight in her life. Determination renewed, she hooked her foot behind Thomas' knee and pulled, sending them both to the ground. Cora rolled away from him and raised onto her arms once she was at a safe distance, looking up just in time to see some of the guards fleeing as Victoire's sword clashed against Thomas'.
Groaning at the pain throbbing in her shoulder, only now making itself known to her as the heights of her adrenaline subsided, she grabbed a knife and cut the short train from her dress so she would have at least a little better mobility. Not bothering to waste time looking around, she searched for Connor in the dark. When she did not find him right away, she began to panic. Standing, she frantically searched for any of the other Assassins, but they were each occupied with the guards that were left, and in the distance she could just make out a dozen more men running in their direction.
She whirled around as she heard a familiar voice yell her name. She saw a guard fall to the ground as Victoire came running towards her. When she got closer, in the moonlight Cora could see blood smeared on her face.
Victoire grabbed her shoulder, her other arm holding her side. She was breathless, and Cora grabbed onto her as well, trying to steady her.
"Victoire, you-"
The other woman ignored her words, speaking urgently over her as she told her what to do. "Connor is by the trees, I saw them take him down just after we arrived. Hide among the trees, and we will lead them away. Stay there if you can, and we will bring horses once it is safe." Cora did not even have a chance to respond or ask what had happened to the others before Victoire turned and made her way to help Clipper, who was attempting to fight off three men on his own. Though relief had washed through her that Thomas had not dragged Connor away to God knew where, her heart was torn by her worry over Victoire and the others, as well. Taking her skirts in her hands, she ran toward the trees, eyes searching every inch of the ground. He was yards away from the tree line when she spotted him, and she dropped to the ground next to him, stomach rolling with fear as she checked for breath. Though she discovered he was simply unconscious, she felt no relief. Voices were shouting in the distance, and she knew she had to hide themselves as soon as possible.
Dragging him to the trees was her only option, but the task was made difficult by what she wore. Though she had looped her arms under his shoulders, every time she tried to walk backwards, her feet caught in her skirts. Cursing under her breath, she tried to hike them up, and after much effort was finally was able to drag him into the grove of trees, where she set him behind a tree and promised she would never again wear such a dreadful amount of skirts. There was little in the way of shrubbery and bushes to conceal them, but she hoped the tall grasses and cover of night would work well enough. Nevertheless, she leaned over him, clutching a knife as she tried to get as low to the ground as possible, trying to keep her head below the grass. Voices drew near, and she could hear Thomas among them.
"There will be hell to pay if we don't catch them," he raged, his voice thick with fury and pride. "Who saw where they went?"
"The other Assassins fled back to the east. No doubt they mean to leave together."
"I saw the same," another added. "East would be our best bet, especially if we can catch them before they join."
"I don't know," yet another said, disagreeing. "The man was out cold. I find it unlikely that he and the woman would head so far away." As they debated over which way to go, Cora found herself holding her breath.
"Enough, we are wasting time," Thomas snarled after what seemed like a long while. "They are probably long gone by now. You men go east. I will check the manor and send guards in other directions." Though his men dispersed, Thomas lingered behind, as if to ensure he was not missing anything. When he wandered close to the trees, she leaned down even lower, her mind racing as she imagined every possible scenario that could play out if she was discovered. Finally, he began to walk back to the manor, and Cora watched him until she could hardly see him, as if to be sure it wasn't some trick and he had known they were there the whole time. She felt as if they had been hiding for hours, but though Thomas and the others had stood debating what to do for a long time, in truth it could not have been more than twenty or thirty minutes. Her trance was only broken when she felt something move against her side. Sucking in a breath, she jumped, frightened due to her heightened state of awareness and anxiety. When she realized it was only Connor's hand against her side, she relaxed, relief flooding through her at the knowledge he was awake. Cora moved from where she had been straddling him, trying to keep as gentle as possible in the case of any wounds she was not aware of. She helped him sit up against the tree, and he tipped his head back, shutting his eyes.
"Are you alright," she asked, her voice barely audible. He nodded, but his face betrayed him.
"Just a sore head is all," he muttered, opening his eyes as he tried to move forward.
"Careful," she scolded, making to push him back. He payed her no heed, though, managing to rise to his knees, albeit a bit clumsily. He grunted as he did so, and Cora grabbed him about the shoulders, searching for his eyes in the dark. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Connor did not respond, only pulling her gently into his arms. She relaxed against him, resting her forehead against his neck and holding him close. The feeling of a sticky wetness between them made her finally pull away.
"You're bleeding," she said, inspecting the torn fabric at his side.
He grabbed her hands gently, trying to keep her from worrying over him. "Nothing I have not seen before," he reassured. Cora was about to cut strips from her skirts to use as a temporary dressing to quell the bleeding, but she heard a familiar whistle, and the two of them rose to their feet as Connor whistled in response, alerting the Assassins to their location.
"It's Victoire and the others, they are coming with horses," she whispered, hoping it was truly them. Connor swayed as he got to his feet, and Cora grabbed him, supporting his weight. "Don't worry," she whispered as he lay an arm across her shoulders. "We'll have you back to the tavern in no time."
"We are all alive and you are safe," he said as Cora spotted three horses making their way quickly toward them. "There is nothing else to worry for."
The night was late when they had finally made it back at the tavern. When they started back, Victoire and the others had no idea what had happened to Jacob and Duncan – they had been separated early while trying to evade the guards, and they had missed their meeting point. At first, Cora had instantly suspected Ezekiel. After all, he had promised extensive knowledge of the area and who would be guarding it, and Cora felt that perhaps it had all been a smoke screen to lure them into a trap. Once they entered the tavern, though, they had found all the others safe and sound, and they explained that after realizing things were not going well, they had turned back to warn Stephane.
Luckily, besides a few cuts, bruises and relatively minor laceration wounds, the five who had seen battle were in good shape. Connor and Victoire had fared the worst, each having suffered a gash that required stitches. Jamie had worked on Victoire first, at the insistence of both Stephane and Duncan. Connor had been more than able to wait, and the two men were rather pushy about Victoire being seen to first, much to her amusement. She had rolled her eyes as they fussed over her, even threatening to send them away if they did not stop asking her if she was alright every two minutes. While Jamie had been gathering his things, Cora had taken a moment to thank her for coming to their rescue. Victoire had only smiled and applauded her for accomplishing the mission in the first place.
Now, Cora sat upstairs in Connor's room, having changed and washed the dirt and blood from her face and arms. Jamie, having just finished closing Connor's wound, helped him to an upright position. Connor grunted softly as he got up, grimacing at the pain. Cora lay a hand on his shoulder as Jamie bandaged the wound, later explaining to him how often to change the bandages and what to do for the pain. Connor had a basic knowledge of healing himself, and Cora could tell that because of it, he had not felt the need to pay attention to most of Jamie's words, exhaustion and pain clouding his mind. Cora had been listening attentively though, and she would be sure to remind him of what he was supposed to do.
When Jamie was finished, they were finally left alone. Cora leaned against the door after she closed it behind Jamie, and for a few moments they only stared at each other, as if unsure what to do after all that had happened. Eventually, Cora removed all but her chemise and climbed into bed next to him, sighing as she lay her head upon the pillow, pulling the thin sheet around them. Strangely, it struck her how easily they had fallen into such a routine of intimacy, such closeness, so quickly. Only weeks ago they had been no more than friends and companions, yet here she was sleeping beside him for the second night in a row.
"I'm sorry," she said after a while. "It was my fault, I was the one who was caught in the first place."
"The chances of being discovered were high. If you hadn't been recognized, I could have run into Thomas. Even the others did not pass by unnoticed."
"Still," Cora sighed, sliding closer to him. He draped an arm around her but did not move from his back, afraid of jostling his wound. "I even had to take the real copy of the map..."
"Cora," Connor said softly, as if pleading with her to stop analyzing all that had happened. She said nothing more, only sighing as she lay her hand against his uninjured side. "Are you alright?" He asked, just as her eyes had begun to grow heavy.
Cora nodded, looking up at him. "I told you, I am fine! My shoulder is a bit sore, but nothing else."
"That is not what I meant," he said gently. Cora then realized what he was asking, if she was emotionally okay after all that had happened – seeing Thomas, being put through something that might give her flashbacks of the day she had been injured and Henry had died... She had told him of the conversation she had with his mother, and he had been surprised by what Cora had explained.
"Yes." Sighing, she opened her mouth again, knowing she should tell him what she really felt. "In truth, I am glad I am not sleeping alone tonight," she admitted, her voice quiet. Cora had no doubt that seeing Thomas again might bring up nightmares and flashbacks, especially of the last time she had seen him. Trying to give what comfort he could, Connor kissed the top of her head, then his face turned glowering.
"I could have killed Thomas for what he said to you."
Cora was not sure she had ever heard Connor speak in such a direct, dark way, even when they had been hostile toward each other. Though in some strange way she appreciated his words, she had to make something clear, not necessarily just in response to him, but also as a reminder to herself. When she heard herself speak, it was as if listening to some stranger, some person who was lost to their hatred and anger, consumed by dark emotions.
"I will kill him."
A/N: So here we are, the story well on its way to reaching the part I've been excited to write about for quite a while... I'm planning on about 10 or so more chapters, so we're getting closer to the end! I can't believe this story is well over 100,000 words now. It just hit me that this little fic is now longer than the first three Harry Potter books, and could well hit 200,000 words by its end... That absolutely blows my mind. I've honestly never gotten this far in the process of completing a story (though I've been trying since I was very young), and the fact that I can see myself actually finishing this makes me so elated! I thank you all so much for view and all your feedback, it means more than you know!
Thanks so much to GuestThing, themadgears and WolfAssassin1927 for your reviews! I, too, rather enjoyed being able to post two chapters in such quick succession, and wish I was able to do it more often.
As always, feel free to review! Any comments are quite welcome, especially about the story itself!