Disclaimer: I enjoy writing fantasy Spuffy. I enjoy reading about the antebellum South. However, I am not an expert on Charleston, having only visited that fair city a few times, nor on the SC aristocracy that grew out of fortunes made in rice, indigo, cotton and trade. I chose this city as the setting because it worked best for the plot I had in mind, not because it is the part of the South I am most familiar with. I have done some research in preparation for writing this semi-historical fiction, but it’s far from through. Therefore, it is every likely there will be some big mistakes, historical inaccuracies, glaring errors about the city itself, etc. If you, dear reader, find such errors, being a resident of Charleston, history buff, or for some other reason are up on things I’ve distorted, please let me know. I welcome suggestions and criticisms.
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Prologue

Emmaline gently picked up the fine bone china and took a dainty sip of her tea. "Who is that young lady over there, off to her self? I don’t remember seeing her at the party last night."

Jocelyn shook her head. "Oh, you won’t see her at many social events, dear. That’s Elizabeth Crawford, surely you’ve heard. Really quite tragic and sad."

Emmaline shook her head and settled into the rather uncomfortable sofa for a good gossip. Jocelyn had proven to be quite a fount of information about all the families in Charleston since she’d come to visit her cousin fresh from her family’s small plantation in Georgia. She had quite a way with words and the tales never failed to fascinated. "No, do tell."

"Well, Elizabeth was one of the Summers before she married, lived at Revello, beautiful place. Her father was Henry Summers you know. Now her mother Joyce was from up North, Henry met her while he was in Boston on business for his father and just fell head over heels. Joyce was a lovely lady, and I understand she was from a prominent family in Boston, but you know how those Northerners are. Some strange notions."

Emmaline hadn’t had a lot of contact with Yankees, but she obligingly nodded.

"So even though she was from Massachusetts, Joyce was always a very gracious hostess; my mother thought very highly of her. She used to say to me, now Jocey, that Joyce Summers is a lady, such perfect manners. Well, I do digress. Apparently Joyce wanted Elizabeth to know her people, so she was sent to school up in Boston when she was twelve. I didn’t know her very well, you know most of us here go to Madam Talvande’s to finish up."

Emma nodded and sipped her tea as she drank in the tale.

"Poor Henry never did get a son from Joyce, and then she caught that horrible sickness that swept through the lowlands about five years ago. She was out nursing some of the sick and it took her fast. Just about broke Henry, he was never the same man after that, or so Papa says. He brought Elizabeth back from Boston right away, since she was nearly seventeen, and started looking for her a husband. Folks said he knew he was dying, and he wanted to get her settled before she was left alone."

Jocelyn sighed. "I remember that fall. Elizabeth had been away so long, we almost didn’t know her, but she was quite a beauty, stole all the boys’ hearts. Her daddy’s plantation bordered Crawford Place and from the beginning, Angel Crawford was the one after her. They were the couple we all envied you know. He was a handsome devil, just enough of a troublemaker to be interesting, but a true Southern gentleman. Wish I had been a few years older, not that it would have made a difference. He only had eyes for Elizabeth. It was a whirlwind courtship. They were engaged by Christmas and married the next spring, just as soon as the family was out of heavy morning for her mother."

Emmaline interrupted, "That’s like a fairy tale!"

Jocelyn agreed. "Yes, dear, it really was. They had this beautiful wedding at St. Michael’s - she had a gorgeous dress, with lace her mama had put aside for the day special, straight from France. They went on a wedding trip to Savannah, the Crawford’s have family down there. We all wanted to be Elizabeth that day. But I suppose everyone only gets so much happiness."

Emmaline scooted forward. "What happened? I noticed she was wearing mourning, did her father pass?"

Jocelyn patted her hand, glad to have such an attentive listener. "Yes, but it gets worse. Not two months after the wedding, soon long after Angel and Elizabeth had returned from Savannah and made their home with the Crawfords, Henry had a massive heart attack. Course he had taken care of Elizabeth, everything had been transferred to Angel for him to look after her. Another year passed, and we didn’t see much of her. We all thought she might be in the family way, she spent so much time in the country, even in the spring and summer when everyone comes to town. Angel was here often, since he handled his father’s business here. I suppose those two most have hated being separated so much."

Jocelyn took a dramatic pause and eyed her young cousin, letting the moment build. "And then one stormy night he was returning back to Crawford Place, racing home to his young bride, when his horse stumbled and threw him. Broke his neck and killed him instantly. Quite a tragedy."

Emmaline gasped as her hand fluttered to her bosom. "Oh my! That poor girl lost her mother, her father and her husband in just a few years?"

Jocelyn nodded as she took another small sip of her tea, pleased with the reaction she’d gotten. It was such a juicy tale. "Yes. That’s why she still wears black, you see. She’s had so much loss and her heart was broken when her Angel died."

Emmaline nearly swooned. How utterly romantic. "Is she in town with the Crawford family?"

"No, she live here in town now. I think there must have been too many memories out there where she’d lived with Angel and his family. She actually has a tiny house that had been left to her by her mother’s people and some money of her own. Apparently her grandfather in Boston had some peculiar ideas about women and their independence, and wanted her to have something in her own name. I’m sure the Crawfords would have been happy for her to stay. But she’s chosen to live on her own, with not a man in the house, not even a house servant. Isn’t that peculiar? I wouldn’t know what to do if Papa didn’t take of me."

Emmaline had to agree. "So she comes out occasionally?"

Jocelyn nodded about to continue the saga, them paused and grabbed Emma’s arm, "Oh wait, there’s her cousin, Willow Rosen." She pointed discreetly at the redhead who had just entered the room.

Emmaline wrinkled her nose. "What an odd name."

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Isn’t it strange? She’s one of Elizabeth’s cousins from Boston on her grandmother’s side, I do believe. They went to school together. Willow’s had her own share of tragedy as well. She was engaged to a young sea captain, who was lost in a storm a few years ago. She came down here with her companion Tara and they live with Elizabeth now."

Jocelyn pursed her lips. "Now I don’t like to talk about folks, but she’s a bit odd. I’m not sure she understands the way we do things in Charleston." She gave Emmaline a significant look and Emma nodded, not really sure what she was getting at as her cousin carried on. "But she always very polite. And it’s good that poor Elizabeth doesn’t have to be alone. Would you like me to introduce you?"

Emma nodded eagerly, ready to meet these tragic figures. This was better than a Scott novel. "Please."

The two ladies crossed the room, skirts swaying, and introductions were made before the women began to disperse into the afternoon heat and head for their respective homes.

~~~

"So that’s him?" George peered across the crowded lobby of the Planter’s Hotel.

"Yes, that’s the Mr. Montgomery we’ve all been hearing so much about. I suspect he’s going back to talk with Wilkins about the harbor permit again," Edward replied.

"Do you think they’ll grant it?"

"I hope so. I know he’s English and all, but it would be a great advantage to have another shipping operation headquartered here, rather than over in London. Add jobs to the harbor as well and attract more planters to send their crops to us."

"Suppose it would be an advantage. It’d be better if he’d partnered here with someone local."

Edward squinted through the cigar smoke. "He’s already got one, another Englishman named Alexander Harris."

"Oh. He nobility too?"

"Don’t think so. Course, Montgomery’s from the wrong side of the blanket you know, he didn’t get the title from Lord Darlington, just a good chunk of his fortune."

"Ahh, I didn’t realize that. All the ladies have been twittering about the handsome English lord."

Edward chuckled. "That’s the truth, he’s made quite a stir, Wealthy as sin, single and connected to royalty; my youngest sister hasn’t stopped talking about him. He’s going to be heavily pursued by the marriage mad mothers this year until one of them snags him."

_________________________________________

William made his way through the crowd and knocked on the door of the suite where Richard Wilkins held his unofficial office hours. How on earth did men like him gain so much power? From all he could gather, Richard was nothing more than a run of the mill local politician, from an old Southern family with good bloodlines, but terrible with money. Rumor had it his family’s property had been hard hit by the last drought and Wilkins was always in town attending to politics, rather than crops.

He took a deep breath, which did little good in the smoke choked lobby, before he entered the room where Wilkins held sway as chairman of the Harbor Authority. The one final hurdle to getting the permit he needed to dock enough ships to make his business worthwhile.

"Mr. Montgomery, how are you this fine day? Do come in and join us. I was just telling my friend Holland Crawford about the plans for your shipping company. Quite a fine idea, I was hoping you could fill in some details."

William made himself comfortable, refused the offer of a drink, then laid out his business plans yet again. Who would have guessed these Southerners would be just as close-minded as back home, only for different reasons. He gritted his teeth as Crawford and Wilkins rehashed objections he’d countered long ago. He had the ships, he had the financing, he had the connections in England, he’d already begun to line up business here in Charleston.

All he needed now was a bloody permit to operate out of the harbor and he’d be set. But instead these wankers continued to blather on about ties to the community and the need for assurance he’d be a benefit to the city. He knew what they were after, but he had no intention of selling out parts of his company to the locals. He had one partner, Xander, and that was enough.

Finally he pulled himself from his haze as Crawford rose to leave, sensing some negotiation was forthcoming. He focused on Wilkins as he leaned across the desk. "Mr. Montgomery, we truly appreciate your interest in becoming a contributing member of our fair city. It’s just that we’d like some reassurance as to your permanence. Now I understand you aren’t interested in new partners, you’ve made that clear. But there’s one other thing that would allay any qualms the Harbor Authority might have."

William leaned forward. This was the deal breaker. What were they going to want? Campaign contributions? Some donation for the city? A flat out bribe? He leaned back heavily at Wilkins’ next words, completely taken by surprise.

"If you were to take a bride from out fair city, a local belle, that would reassure us all I believe. You are unmarried, isn’t that right sir?"

William nodded.

"Well, then. We have many fine young women, including my lovely daughter Harmony. I know you’ve had a chance to attend a few social functions. If you were to say, choose a bride shortly, I think we could see fit to grant you your permit when the full Authority meets."

With narrowed eyes, William leaned across the table. "Mr. Wilkins, I’m not much for facades. Let’s cut to the heart of this, shall we? Are you proposing I marry your daughter for this permit?"

Wilkins’ eyes twinkled. "Well now Mr. Montgomery, I wouldn’t put it in those words, but if you were to offer a sizable sum to be settled on your new bride’s family upon your marriage, and were to express an interest in my Harmony, then I don’t think I could see fit to let a fine upstanding young man with family connections lose out on such a great business opportunity."

William stood up and crossed the room, staring out the window at the street. "And if I refuse?"

Wilkins shrugged. "Well, the Harbor Authority can be tricky sometimes. I know there are several members that resent us granting new permits to outsiders who haven’t proven themselves loyal to South Carolina."

He closed his eyes, blocking out the charming view of a bustling city as he considered his options. He had planned to look for a wife once the company was established, someone with good connections and family name to bear him heirs. He’d met this Harmony chit before, a bit vapid, but passable to look at. What about love? Do you want to be miserable like your father? He shoved his inner poet aside. No, I want to be successful like my father. Love wasn’t what marriages were for, as he well knew. He’d marry Harmony and maybe, if he was lucky, he could find some little soiled dove looking for a protector that he could find companionship with. It had worked for his parents, after a fashion.

He abruptly turned. "Very well. I’ll be at your home tonight for dinner. I want a signed contract, a guarantee I’ll have the permit by the first of the year. If I get it, I’ll marry Harmony as the end of February, after these races I hear so much about and settle a sizable sum on you."

"Done."

As they shook hands, William realized that he felt lower than he’d ever felt in his life, even thought he’d just found the way to make his dreams come true.

~~~~~~

Xander Harris fell over in his chair. As he managed to right himself slowly, he stood back up. "You did what, Will?"

"I agreed to marry Wilkins’ daughter and he’s guaranteed the necessary permits. Now sod off."

"I will not. Are you out of your mind man? Do you really want to marry that simpering twit?"

"No, I do not, but I’ve been negotiating with these bastards for two months, Xander. I knew Wilkins wanted something, I just thought it was money or a bribe he was after, not this."

"Well, the talk down at the docks was that he was having money problems. Wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out his conniving wife had something to do with this."

"I’m sure she did. Kept trying to call me Lord Darlington last time we met, stupid cow thinks I have a title or something. Probably thinks Harmony will be Lady Montgomery." He went over to the bookshelf that graced the wall of the library and smoothed his finger over the pen and ink drawing of his mother’s face. "Sides, Harris, you and I both know marriage is just a business arrangement. I’ll hopefully get a heir and she’ll get a pretty house. I’ll buy her one of those country places maybe and set her up out there if she gets too bothersome."

Xander shrugged. "It’s your call Will. I know how much you want this, but just be sure it’s worth the price. She’ll be your wife, you’ll have to share her bed, she’ll bear your name, your children. Do you really want it to be that way?"

He shrugged as he prepared to leave for his evening meal with the Wilkins. "Don’t have a lot of options here, Xander. Besides, it’s not like I’m in love with someone," he chuckled harshly. "Not even sure I believe in love these days."

Xander clapped him on the back. "Tell you what, you may not believe in love, but I know you’ve still got to believe in good old-fashioned lust. When was the last time you had a woman, Will?"

He paused at the doorway and looked back at his friend of many years now. "Not since we left England. I’ve just been so busy since we got here, haven’t had a chance to go about seeking suitable company. Some of those doxies down by the docks look like they’d rot a man’s parts off."

"Exactly. But I’ve gotten a recommendation on a brothel, supposed to be one of the best in town. Very high-class clientele, upscale. Run by a Madam Anya. I was going to go see about it later tonight. Why don’t I wait until you come back and we’ll make a night of it?"

William frowned. "It’s really a classy joint?"

Xander nodded. "We’ll see if Madam Anya can’t find us two beautiful brunettes, maybe if we’re lucky they’ll have a slightly crazy one, I know that’s your thing." He ducked at Will’s mock-punch.

"Hey now, lay off Dru. She was a bit off her bird, but you wouldn’t believe what that woman could do under the covers. It’s a plan, I’ll meet you here at ten and we’ll go."

~~~~~

"Miss Buffy?"

"Who is it Fred?"

"Your brother, Miss Buffy."

She tightened her lips and closed the book she’d been trying to snatch a few pages in to pass the last bit of afternoon that remained after she and Willow had returned from the tea. "Not my brother," she mumbled under her breath. She checked her reflection in the looking-glass, tucking a stray hair neatly away before nodding firmly at her reflection. "There, very presentable."

She raised her voice so it could be heard through the door, "I’m coming Fred, just put Parker in the sitting room."

She knocked on Willow’s door and called out that Parker had come by before descending the stairs to greet him.

"Parker, how are you? And your mother and father, I do hope they are well also?" Buffy politely went through the motions of inquiring about the health of the various Crawfords, secretly wishing a plague of locusts on the whole bunch. Why on earth was Parker here? He was only a little older than her, maybe a year , but as the baby of the family, he’d always acted much younger. With Angel’s death he’d become the heir to the family fortune however. She couldn’t tell that it had made much difference.

He’d known better than to make any advances when she was married to Angel. He might have been gone much of the time and showed her little affection when he was there, but she might as well have had property of Angel Crawford branded on her forehead during their short marriage. Parker had leered and insinuated but had never touched.

Until Angel’s death that is. He’d grown bolder with his advances during those few first horrible months when she’d been shut up in that gloomy mansion, listening to Lilah sob her eyes out over her precious boy. If it hadn’t been for Holland’s sending Parker off on a trip to England, she had been sure he would have invaded her bedroom one night to see what else of Angel’s was now his, but she’d managed to escape before his return, setting herself up in this little house and separating herself as much as polite society allowed from the Crawford family.

He dropped by occasionally, but she always made sure to keep someone nearby and meet him in the formal sitting room. His frequent offers of help and assistance, suggestions he squire her to dances or picnics, were all met with polite declines as she pointed out the obvious mourning she still wore for his brother.

She wasn’t dense. Parker had no interest in her as a bride, he wasn’t trying to court her. He already possessed what should have been her dower, all of the Summers’ holdings at Revello. No, what he wanted was her, what his brother had had, for a plaything. And that was something he would never have. So she politely endured his visits and prayed he’d one day lose interest and become distracted by someone else. She wondered if he knew Darla? Maybe she should give him her name, after all, she’d been Angel’s too. And she was already a whore.

She snapped back to the present, realizing she’d missed whatever his reply had been.

"I’m so sorry, Parker, could you repeat that? I must have gotten a little distracted, it’s a bit warm in here, don’t you think?" She delicately dabbed at her forehead with her handkerchief and tried to appear to be slightly swoony, not that hard under all the layers of starchy fabric.

"I’m sorry my dear. Were you laying down all loosened up upstairs? I feel terrible making you get all buttoned back up to come talk to me." He lowered his voice and leaned in closer, "I could have just come up to your room. After all, we’re family." He slid his finger familiarly down the jet buttons that adorned the front of her bodice, almost reaching the swell of her breast before she jerked away.

"I was merely reading, Parker, and it would not be appropriate. We’re not blood-kin and you’ll never enter my bedroom." Buffy realized that last bit was possibly a step too far as she watched him bristle with anger, but he backed away and returned to his seat as Willow suddenly appeared in the door.

"Parker, what a pleasant surprise, what brings you to see us today?"

Willow crossed the room and sat on the other side of Buffy, her tone pleasant but her eyes flashing as she observed the flushed Parker and the tense look on her cousin’s face.

"Miss Willow, so good to see you again. My, but we are going to have to get you and Elizabeth out to some of the balls this season. After all, Elizabeth will soon be out of mourning for my dear departed brother." He grinned maliciously. "Or wait, shouldn’t you already be out of mourning? Such devotion, my dear sweet sister, given how Angel felt about you."

Buffy bit her lip to control her temper, until she actually felt a drop of blood. "I prefer to mourn Angel in my own way, thank you Parker. Willow and I may attend a few festivities before the race week next year. However, as I am no longer seeking a husband, we will likely not be attending many of the St. Cecilia Society dances this season. Perhaps a few quiet musical evenings."

He smiled politely as Willow jumped into the conversation. "Yes, I’ve heard so much about the races, but I wasn’t here soon enough last year to see them, so Elizabeth has been gracious enough, even in her time of sorrow, to agree to a small excursion."

"Wonderful, we will look forward to seeing you at those events. Perhaps you’ll even allow me to escort you to a few?" At the frigid looks from both girls, he dropped the subject. "Perhaps we can discuss it at a later time. However, horses are the reason which brings me here. Elizabeth, Father has requested that I see if you will loan Gordian Knot to me for the afternoon. We are breeding his sire you know, and a potential buyer has asked for a report on some of the other offspring before committing. I’ll just need to take him down to the veterinarian and farrier for a short time, have him looked over, then I’ll bring him right back."

Buffy’s heart seized a little at the thought of Parker, not known for his gentleness with horses, taking off her beloved Mr. Gordo, as she privately called him, even for a few hours. There was no polite way to refuse this and Parker knew better than to damage prime horseflesh, his father would tan him for doing so, but still . . . she sighed. Really, there was no choice. And at least Mr. Gordo would have a good examination, something she had been meaning to attend to.

"Very well Parker. But don’t keep him too long, Willow and I might need him to go somewhere in the carriage tomorrow afternoon, isn’t that right Willow?"

Willow nodded vehemently. "Yes, I think we do have an appointment."

Parker rose, hat in hand. "Then I bid you good day ladies. You still board the horse at Mott’s Stable down the street?" Buffy nodded. "I’ll return him as soon as we’re done."

And then he was gone.

"Are you okay?" Willow asked.

Buffy leaned back and covered her eyes. "Yes. I just hate that I still even have to talk to anyone in that family." She reached over and gave her cousin a hug. "Thank you for coming in when you did. Parker was getting a little personal there. I swear, he thinks I’m his property and I know he’s going to insist on escorting us if we go anywhere this winter, now that he’s back. Everyone will think he’s the most appropriate escort, but it will ruin anything we go to if I have to listen to his snake-like tongue for the evening and endure whatever gropes he thinks he can sneak in."

"Then we just won’t go." Willow patted her cousin firmly as she glanced over her shoulder. "Tara, hey sweetie, come in, you missed the Parker exhibition."

Tara shyly entered the room. Even after several months, Buffy still wondered if Tara was nervous about being a part of the household, even if Buffy knew about their relationship and accepted it.

"Is he gone?"

"Mm-hmm. Come here." Tara perched on the sofa beside Willow as the girls continued to chat. "He was pulling his usual tricks. And unfortunately, he’ll probably come back tomorrow to tell us Mr. Gordo’s back safely."

Tara shuddered. Her few encounters with Parker had been less than stellar examples of his personality as well. Not long after they’d arrived in Charleston, he’d shown up and caught her alone in the hallway. Once he’d learned she was Willow’s companion, he’d had her pressed against the wall and was fumbling with her skirts before the noise of Buffy descending the stairs had frightened him off. She’d kept that little detail to herself, not wanting to cause trouble, until she’d seem how much Buffy detested her former brother-in-law as well.

"Wasn’t Anya supposed to come by this afternoon?" Tara asked.

Buffy nodded. "She was, though she said she might not make it. She was going to visit Giles for investment advice."

Willow laughed. "Do you really think she just goes to him for investment advice?"

Buffy crinkled her nose as she contemplated the question for a moment. "You know, I really do think that’s what it is. Anya’s done very well for herself since Giles gave her a start and she definitely values his advice. But it was always business with them. And you’ve seen him with his new wife haven’t you? Such devotion. It almost is enough to break my cynicism, just a little. If I hadn’t heard it straight from Anya, I wouldn’t have believed it. Men just don’t give up mistresses for their wives." She laughed harshly, "Mine certainly didn’t."

Chapter 2

The dinner was long, unbearably boring. Harmony, now that William was seated next to her and had gotten a closer look, was a pink and white china doll. Her features were regular, her hair a lovely hue of pale blonde, her eyes a pretty shade of blue. And he found her immeasurably boring. Her voice grated, positively grated on his nerves.

As the dinner concluded, Wilkins escorted William and the other gentleman into the study for brandy and cigars. The conversation shifted now that the ladies were absent to talk of politics, local and national, and William chose to merely sip his drink and keep his own counsel as the discussion grew more impassioned about the brewing controversy over the new states entering the young country.

"Well, the North can’t push us too hard. If they adopt their resolution, we’ll adopt the resolution Senator Calhoun proposed and leave. Besides, what would the Northern factories do without our providing their raw materials? Why our sea-island cotton is the finest available. They would founder without our crops to feed their machines."

Richard turned to his future son-in-law. "What is the sentiment in England at this time, Montgomery?"

William deliberated for a moment, taking a sip of his drink before he answered. "I’ve been at sea for some time the past few years, you understand, so I’m not sure I have the pulse of the nation. But I know that England and France both value the fine Southern cotton produced on your fair plantations. Which is why I am here gentleman, to provide means for transporting those goods."

He held his breath as he waited for anyone to realized that he’d dodged the question. Most seemed pleased by the answer and the men began to break apart into smaller groups as local gossip and trade talk filtered around the room.
.
William turned at a hand clapped on his shoulder to face Parker Crawford, the heir to the Crawford family fortune, now one of the largest among the South Carolina elite. He tried to conceal, successfully he hoped, his look of distaste. Parker reminded him of the young lords and gentlemen he’d faced the ridicule of growing up. Good for nothing layabouts, sure the world was theirs merely by virtue of their birth. Holland Crawford had wheeled and dealed, building his plantation by fair means and foul. William had heard he was notorious for his cruelty to beasts and slaves. Parker appeared to be following in his father’s footsteps.

"Montgomery, we’re off to a friendly game of cards, care to join in?" William glanced at his watch. He was to meet Xander at ten, he had time for a hand or two. Besides, it was a bit too early to gracefully bow out, and if he didn’t find some other amusement he feared he would be dragged back to the parlor to hear the musical accomplishments of the ladies. He suppressed a shudder. Nothing more loathsome than hearing the less than tuneful warblings of ladies of quality. "Very well Crawford, lead the way."

~~~~~

Williaim threw down his cards. He’d won a few hands so far, lost a few, and appeared to be breaking even. He watched as Parker triumphantly laid down his cards to show his winning hand. Nodding his congratulations, he started to rise to find his host and take his leave, when Parker stopped him.

"William, surely you’re not leaving so soon? We’re just getting warmed up."

"I have an appointment with my business partner, so I’m afraid I’ll have to be on my way. But I enjoyed the game."

Parker jumped up.

"Montgomery, don’t be ridiculous. We’re raising the stakes, surely you have time for a few more hands."

"I really . . ."

Parker interrupted, "Now William, you don’t want us thinking the English are afraid of a challenge now do you?"

William stiffened. Better to walk away, but he really wanted to wipe the smirk off of that sneering face in front of him. He sat back down and retrieved his cards. "Very well, a few more gentlemen, to defend the honor of my countrymen. What are the stakes?"

"We’re playing for horses. That was a mighty fine piece of horseflesh you rode in on tonight."

"He is indeed. I purchased him only last week from a horse seller from somewhere up the river." William shrugged. He wasn’t eager to lose the new steed, but he could get another. He thought for a moment as he watched the cards being shuffled. "That was a good looking horse you rode tonight as well, the bay with the white star. He’d make a nice addition to my stables. I’ll wager mine against yours."

Parker gaped and backpedaled. "I can’t wager Gordian, he’s …"

William’s cool tones interrupted him. "I’m sorry Crawford, I was under the impression Southern men weren’t afraid of a challenge."

Parker’s eyes glittered as the cards were dealt. "Very well, Montgomery. I accept the wager."

The hand played out and William exited the room to meet Xander and collect his new horse, chuckling to himself. The look on Parker’s face had been priceless when he’d laid down the royal flush. Now, to see this Gordian.

~~~~~

Xander was sitting on the wide verandah as William rode up, holding the lead of the horse trotting beside him.

"Thought you were off to dinner. Where did you pick that up?"

William handed off the reins to the groom and mounted the steps. "Won a lucky hand of cards with that dreadful Parker Crawford. Good looking horse, eh?"

Xander nodded. "Did you cheat?"

William grinned. "Of course. He did too, I’m just better."

Xander snickered and turned his attention to the horse that was disappearing around the corner. "Looks like good lines. You still going with me tonight after seeing your blushing bride-to-be?"

"More than ever, mate. She is a bit of a twit. They seated her next to me tonight. Tried to make conversation, but aside from an occasional yes or no, I couldn’t get a thing from the girl until I mentioned we’d brought in some new fabrics in our last shipment. Bird nearly talked my ear off then about the new gown her mum had promised her for the winter." He shuddered. "So yes, Xan, let’s find some warm, willing, quiet women who’ll use their mouths for more pleasant purposes."

~~~~~

William looked around the room they were seated in. From the outside, the brothel could have passed for one of the many quiet, genteel row houses that populated the town. Very discreet, not gaudy in the manner of some of the cathouses he’d seen nearer the docks. It boded well for the evening’s entertainment, less likely to get some doxy with the pox in a place like this. But he was getting impatient.

"Xander, what are we waiting on again?"

Xander sighed. "Patience, Spike. Madam Anya has this policy of meeting all the clients on their first visit so she can select the right girl for them. Larry, he’s the one who told me about this place and gave me the reference, said she was an absolute genius at it. He said he’d never been disappointed."

Spike got up and paced to the window that looked out onto a side alley. He pulled aside the heavy draperies and stared out into the dark night. A sudden flash of movement caught his attention.

A small, dark figure was sneaking down the alley. In the shadows he could make out little, for the person was swathed from head to foot in a long dark cloak. They approached the door and William shifted so he could watch this peculiarity. A brief muffled knock and the door swung open, bathing the mysterious stranger in a pool of light. He caught his breath as the hood fell away to reveal one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.

Her golden hair must have been pulled back in one of those odd knots women distorted their hair into, but time and the effect of the cloak had loosened it from its confines and entrancing tendrils caressed her face. Her wide hazel eyes were framed by long lashes and he could see them flash as she conversed with someone inside. Good, she had some spirit to her. He felt his interest stir for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long. This was the woman he wanted tonight. Forget Madam Anya’s pick, he was going to insist on her. He pressed closer to the window, hoping to hear some of the conversation.

"Anya, let me in, hurry,"

"Fine, fine, Buffy."

Buffy. That was who he would ask for. Odd name. He retreated to the sofa and reached for his drink, suddenly looking forward to the rest of the evening. "Excellent idea Xander, excellent idea."

~~~~~

Buffy threw another furtive look around her as she stepped inside the back hallway, scowling. This was the last time. Why Anya couldn’t just send the girls on up to her place, she’d never understand. Or maybe she did. Anya was sharp, she knew every trip down here, even to as well-kept an establishment as hers, made Buffy remember why she was willing to take the risk in helping these girls her peers would shun. Because she knew, she understood what they went through. Because she’d been there too. Only in a bigger house and with less chance of escape.

She sighed and followed Anya down the hall towards the kitchen where several of the girls were having tea and waiting for their next customer. She nodded to several she’d met on her previous visits and looked around the room for a new face.

"All right Anya, why am I sneaking down here in the middle of the night?"

"Buffy, she’s barely fourteen, a baby, and she’s got nowhere to go. Her mother died on the boat, they didn’t have any money to start with from what I can tell, and she has no references or education to speak of. Plus she’s frightened out of her mind."

Buffy massaged her temples. When did she become the one chosen to save the lost souls in this town? "How did she end up here, Anya?"

"I found her at Glory’s place this afternoon when I went by for a chat to check out the competition. You know Glory will take them as young as she can get, some men pay a high price for that sort of thing."

Anya bit her lip, slightly embarrassed she’d gotten herself involved in this rescue operation, then blurted out, "I couldn’t let her stay there, she just looked like a little lost lamb waiting to be led to the slaughter, with those great big innocent eyes. I knew you could find a good place for her, maybe train her for a bit and help her with references. But you have to take her away, tonight. She can’t stay here, Glory will be furious when she realizes I snuck her out and she’ll send one of her men up here to get her back."

Buffy sighed again. How did Anya always end up sucking her into these messes? There was no way she could let this little girl be taken back to Glory’s. Even refined ladies had heard of that place and the perverse things that went on there. "All right, let me see her."

Anya led her down the hallway to a small back room where the door was shut. "Her name is Dawn. Irish, I think."

"Had she already . . ." Buffy trailed off.

Anya shook her head. "No, I’m pretty sure she hadn’t. That’s why Glory will try to get her back, she’s very marketable."

Buffy eyed her critically. "If she’s so marketable, why aren’t you teaching her the trade instead of rescuing her, Anya?"

Anya paused as she prepared to open the door. "I’m not going soft here Buffy, but . . ." she looked at the doorknob as she finished her sentence, "I think you were right last week when you said everyone deserves a choice. What almost happened to her is what happened to me. No one asked me if it was what I wanted and I didn’t have many options afterwards. If she changes her mind, wants to come here, I’ll welcome her, but this little girl’s not ready to make that decision yet."

Buffy nodded, knowing how unlike Anya it was to show her emotions over something. "I understand. We’ll give her a choice. It’ll make things easier that she wasn’t violated. I’ll take her and train her. We can see if anyone around here might want a governess, though she’s a little young, or maybe see if Willow’s family can find her a place in Boston. She’d make a good fit there. We’ll find something."

The door opened and Buffy took in the sight of the girl huddled on the bed, tear tracks still marking her face. She was disheveled, her dark hair falling around her face as she looked up at the pair standing in the doorway.

"Dawn, this is Miss Elizabeth. She’s going to be taking you home with her tonight. You’ll be safe there, Glory won’t know where to look for you." Anya nodded at Buffy then turned to head back down the hallway. "I have to go, I have patrons waiting."

Buffy nodded and moved into the room. Dawn watched her with wide eyes as she carefully approached the bed. Buffy though she looked like a frightened colt ready to dart as soon as she drew near. She slowly put out her hand to the other girl. "My name is Elizabeth, but my friends call me Buffy, so that will be just fine. What would you like me to call you?"

Slowly the younger girl took her hand and rose from the bed. "Dawn. Dawn is my name."

"Good. Well, Dawn, I understand there’s a bit of a nasty lady who might show up looking for you here, so why don’t the two of us go? You can stay with me tonight where you’ll be safe, and tomorrow we’ll discuss what you may wish to do."

Dawn nodded and Buffy draped the extra cloak Anya had provided around her shoulders. They headed back into the hallway, moving towards the back exit. Buffy looked up as one of Anya’s girls, Faith, came out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs. "Come to rescue the little lamb, Buffy?"

Buffy nodded. "Are you coming for lessons this week Faith?" The brunette ducked her head and glanced around. "Yeah, I think I will. I was practicing you know, with some of Anya’s books."

"Good. Thursday then?"

"Okay, got to go, Anya’s giving me one of the new boys tonight."

Buffy colored slightly and herded Dawn down the hallway. Even though she now called some of these women friends, she still couldn’t get over her slight nervousness when the more earthy aspects of their profession came up. "Well, good luck with that, see you later."

She opened the door and guided Dawn out into the night.

Chapter 3

"Gentlemen, I am so pleased to meet you. Your presence and new business operations have made quite a stir in the city, you know." Anya glanced from the dark hair to the light. "Now I believe you must be Mr. Harris and you are Mr. Montgomery."

They nodded. William was more than a little surprised at Madam Anya, though given what he’d seen so far, he wasn’t sure why. Clearly she knew how to run her business given the setting, very up-scale, but he hadn’t expected her to be that aware of who they were and what they did. He snapped back to attention.

"Mr. Montgomery, have I surprised you?" At the slightly startled look on his face, she laughed. "I like to know a little about my patrons. I see myself as a matchmaker of sorts and it helps me to find the lady most right for your pleasure if I know something about you. Gentlemen, there are a few house rules I would like to go over with you. If you find them unacceptable, I can direct you to other establishments that may suit you better. However, if you are amiable to the conditions, I promise that you won’t be disappointed in your experience. My girls are the best in Charleston."

Both men nodded as she continued.

"I will suggest ladies for you tonight. If you find that you are not compatible, you may request a different girl on your next visit and there will be no charge. I am very successful at finding the right person to satisfy a gentlemen’s needs though."

She proceeded with her practiced spiel. "If you have any special requests, please let me know and I’ll try to accommodate them. I do have a few items that I will not procure. Very young girls, or boys for that matter, are not part of what we offer. We do not allow beatings or physical harm to the girls. If you harm or attempt to harm any of the ladies, you will be asked to leave and never return. Finally, your contact with the ladies is limited to this house. Please do not seek them out or try to call on them socially."

She looked expectantly at the two men and they nodded in acceptance. Before she could proceed, William spoke up. "One thing. I actually have a girl I’d like to request tonight."

Anya looked confused. "Did someone recommend her to you?"

Spike looked a little abashed. "Well, no, I saw her out there in the alley while we were waiting on you. Buffy, I think her name was."

The look on Anya’s face was very off, somewhere between utter astonishment and high amusement. The moment passed and she composed herself. "So you’re interested in Buffy? I’m very, very sorry, Mr. Montgomery, Buffy isn’t," again that odd look crossed her face, "available tonight. She had to step out for the evening."

William leaned back heavily, his interest suddenly waning before leaning forward again. "What about tomorrow night? Will she be here then?"

"Mr. Montgomery I’m sorry, Buffy is not one of my regular girls, I don’t think I’ll be able to arrange for that to occur. However, since you seem to have an enthusiasm for blondes, perhaps Francine would be to your taste. If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you to your room." She turned to Xander, who had yet to utter a word. "And I’ll be back in just a moment to deal with you, Mr. Harris." She gave a quick wink as she walked out the door.

Xander felt as though the lights in the room had just dimmed. Madam Anya. She was beautiful. Those deep brown eyes, those ruby red lips, that tiny waist, the way she’d even put Will in his place. He was in love.

+++

Anya mounted the steps and guided William to a room at the top, knocking softly until the door was opened by a petite blonde dressed in a gauzy robe and little else. "Francine, this is Mr. William Montgomery. This is his first visit with us, so make sure he has a nice time."

Francine nodded and drew William into the room. She licked her lips as she shut the door behind her, taking in the handsome man before her. She loved it when they were as young and handsome as this one, instead of some drooly old man.

Anya turned as the door closed on one customer, descended the stairs and prepared to retrieve the other, pausing for a moment to check her hair and face in the hall mirror. She froze as she stared at her reflection. Why was she primping? Granted, he was adorable, all big puppy eyes, hair a little too long, nicely shaped. But she didn’t get involved with customers, not anymore. It was unwise to mix business with pleasure, even if he looked like he might be quite a bit of fun. She reentered the parlor.

"I want you."

The statement hung in the air as Anya blinked. Shy and retiring seemed to have left the room.

"Pardon?"

"You, you’re the one I would like tonight. Is that possible?"

She shook her head, her heart beating a little faster. Had he read her thoughts? She was normally very skilled at flirting just enough to keep customers engaged, while still remaining off limits. Had she somehow telegraphed her interest? "No, I’m sorry Mr. Harris, I’m no longer . . . active in that part of the business. I merely run the house."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Not ever?"

She shook her head regretfully. "Not ever. I have a lovely girl named Faith who should suit you however. She’s waiting upstairs now."

She turned to walk away and his voice stopped her. "You said we couldn’t call on the girls socially. Does that include you?"

She looked back. Apparently the puppy was persistent. "It would be better if you didn’t. I have no interest in being a mistress again."

"What if I just wanted to see you, take you on a picnic?"

She turned, irritated now. "Mr. Harris, I am not going to sleep with you."

He stepped forward, a little closer. "I understand. But I’d still like to see you again."

She turned and walked away without a word and he followed. She stopped in front of a door near the top of the steps and knocked softly. Faith opened it promptly, wearing a similar diaphanous garment to Francine. Anya spoke swiftly. "Faith, Mr. Harris. He’s new, give him a nice time." Her curt instruction complete, she turned and marched away.

"Is that a no then?"

Her back stiffened and she continued on with giving him a reply. Xander sighed. Well, he’d just have to try again later. He entered the room.

+++

Spike watched as the lovely Francine made small talk, poured him a drink, helped him out of his coat and onto the bed, then began to slowly disrobe. She was very nice, everything shaped just right to be a good handful and she clearly knew what she was about. But somehow he was just not interested.

She ran her fingers down his shirt, teasing him just a little as she dropped to her knees in front of him and asked what he’d like first. And he knew at that moment this was going nowhere. He could probably summon the enthusiasm to have a go with her, but it just didn’t seem worth the energy with the image of the other girl still haunting him. He wanted this Buffy, not some substitute.

Or better yet, he should never have come at all. Agreeing to Xander’s suggestion had been a bad idea. He’d always disliked coming to cathouses, preferring to have a mistress like Dru who he was comfortable with. That was what he needed to be looking for and Anya had made it clear she didn’t want anyone taking her girls off. But if this Buffy wasn’t with her . . .

He sighed heavily and looked down at the expectant girl. "Luv, come up here." He patted the bed beside him. "Something’s come up." At her wicked glance, he caught her questing hand. "No, not that pet. I’m going to have to be off. It’s nothing personal, you’re a fine-looking woman and I’m more than happy to pay the full price. You tell Madam Anya I was pleased with her choice. I’m just going to slip out the back way." He reached in his pocket and pulled out the proper sum and added a bit extra to it as he watched Francine’s lower lip tremble.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no. You were doing everything right. I just need to leave."

She stared at him strangely, but accepted the money as he left. He’d didn’t seem impotent at all, in fact she was fairly certain she’d noticed a bit of a tent in his pants when she’d been disrobing. But something had thrown him off. She shrugged her shoulders. Maybe he had a wife at home and suddenly felt guilty. That occasionally happened. Not too often, she chuckled as she thought over how many of her roster of regulars were firmly attached to a ball and chain, though they seemed to have enough lead to make it to her bed. She redressed and grabbed the money. Best to check in with Anya before she figured out Montgomery had left on her own.

~~~~~

Elizabeth stared down at the thin gold band on her left ring finger. One small ring, plain, a little worn now after three years on her hand. She sighed as she slowly removed it and placed it on the dresser next to her silver-backed brush. Maybe Willow was right. Maybe it was time to finally take it off and try moving on. She picked up the brush and stared at herself in the mirror. At nearly twenty, she couldn’t help but feel she looked worlds older than she had when that ring first went on her finger at the age of seventeen. She wrinkled her forehead, arched her eyebrows and twitched her mouth as she looked for the tiny worry lines she knew she was already beginning to develop. She gave up the quest and began her nightly one hundred strokes as she prepared for bed.

Taking off that ring brought back a flood of memories. Being sixteen, almost seventeen, asked to dance by none other than Angel, the devilishly handsome young heir of the Crawfords. All of her friends had envied her that night, as he twirled her around the floor, his concentration on her unbroken. She had felt like the belle of the ball. She snorted to herself as she continued the strokes in the mirror. One was certainly naïve at seventeen.

She completed her nightly preparations and moved to her bed, turning back the covers as she blew out the candle. Her thoughts wandered to the new girl who now slept on a makeshift cot in Fred’s room. How did she somehow become a home for strays? She really should have put her foot down, she hadn’t intended to take another girl into her home. But those big blue eyes and the lost look on the little girl’s face had touched something inside her. There had been no way Buffy could leave her at Anya’s, not with the possibility that some of Glory’s big lugs might try to find her.

She rolled over and punched her pillow. Lumpy thing. Sleep needed to come, the day would break before she knew it and she had to come up with something to do with Dawn. Maybe someone down at the market would know of a good family who was looking for some temporary help. Of course the girl had looked quite delicate. She’d probably be better off trained as a house servant and then sent to Boston. Possibly Willow’s family would be able to find a place.

A soft moan carried on the night air and Buffy punched her pillow again. She was certain that Willow and Tara had no idea that she could hear them in her room and would be mortified if she ever mentioned it to them. She was happy for her cousin, that she had found someone, that she seemed to have love, even if it was from a source Buffy would never have thought to consider. Sometimes she was almost jealous, watching the two of them as they cooed around each other and hearing the passion they seemed to share in the night. Was it even possible that existed for her? Anywhere?

And it wasn’t as though Willow and Tara had perfection. Their relationship never left the walls of the small house and Buffy knew that if any part of polite society ever learned about them, they would be forced to leave the city, and frankly, so would she. What they did simply wasn’t done.

Another moan and a soft giggle caused her to bury her head under the now flattened pillow. What were they doing in there that made them so happy? She wasn’t entirely sure how that part of their relationship worked and she certainly didn’t intend to ask. Angel had never made her want to giggle like that when they’d coupled though.

Yet another thing she’d been naïve about. It had been the kind of thing she’d whispered about with her school friends, read cryptic descriptions of in books she wasn’t supposed to know about in her uncle’s library, and dreamed about late at night. The idea that the act could be more than just procreation, could produce pleasure and ecstasy had fascinated her and she’d been so eager on her wedding night with Angel. She’d been sorely disappointed when he hadn’t shown up, after she’d fluttered around, feeling young and insecure without her mother to give her advice or suggestions, trying to look pretty and desirable for her handsome new husband.

The next morning he’d stumbled in, still a little drunk and reeking of cheap perfume. He’d taken her virginity in a flash, leaving her feeling dirty and vaguely used as he stumbled back out the door with barely a word. It had hurt physically, but she’d known to expect that the first time. But the second was only a little better, and so on and so forth. And emotionally it only grew worse. She knew that was why she had such sympathy for the whores she passed. She knew what they felt like, to be used, to just be a vessel for someone else’s pleasure but never a thought for her own.

Towards the end he’d been rough with her and made her want to cry. Not that she’d ever given him the satisfaction. At first he’d just been to the point, done his duty, waited to see if she’d conceived, then mounted her again. Exactly like the horses her father had raised. Just a brood mare. Except she was defective, and every month she grew a little more depressed when her monthlies had begun. That’s when he’d started to get rougher, drinking more before he came to her, laughing about her shyness after a year of marriage as he yanked away the covers and stripped her naked.

And then he’d died, coming home in a dash from his mistress because his father had discovered a discrepancy in the books and had demanded his presence. And she had been freed. Alone, solitary, but free. And that was the best way to stay. She closed her eyes and blocked out her thoughts and the noises in the next room, waiting for sleep to claim her.

~~~~~

William wandered into the stables and slipped into the stall with the new horse. Parker had been most peculiar about losing him, more so than he’d have imagined over a horse from someone with the resources of the Crawfords. Gordian Knot he’d said his name was. He patted the silky nose and laughed as the animal nudged him, apparently searching for some treat.

"Someone’s spoiled you, old fellow. Were you a pet?"

He reached in his pocket and produced a small lump of sugar, feeding it to the eager horse. He continued to stroke the smooth coat as his mind wandered. The contract from Wilkins had been on his desk when he’d come in, its terms staring him in the face. He gazed at it for a long time, thinking about what it meant. A legal commitment to the Wilkins, no more, no less, he’d finally convinced himself.

He laid his head against Gordian’s neck, soothed by the warmth of the horse which seemed content to be petted. He hadn’t really thought he’d ever marry for love, though the possibility had flashed across his mind more than once in those long months of planning with Xander for this venture. His father’s death had left him with unexpected resources and he’d known he finally had the chance to make himself into more than Lord Darlington’s bastard son. He’d resigned the post of ship’s captain he’d held since he’d left the Queen’s Navy and went to work with a vengeance, putting his affairs in order in England and making ready for a new start.

Drusilla had been easily taken care of. He’d thought he loved her when he’d first taken up with her, and she’d played the part well, showering him with affection, doting on him when he was in town from the long voyages. He’d kept her in fine style, having little else to do with his money then, and she’d reciprocated in the way she knew best. But he’d soon realized she had other visitors when he was gone and the sweet declarations of love were merely part of the illusion she created. So when he’d readied to leave, he’d settled a nice sum on her and broke things off, knowing she could be comfortable or find a new patron if she chose.

And there hadn’t been anyone since. It wasn’t that he didn’t have urges and desires for a soft woman to bury himself in, it was just he’d wanted something more. Something he’d seen between his parents on the rare occasions he’d glimpsed them together.

He knew his father had loved his mother as much as she had loved him. When they were together, this glow of happiness seemed to surround them, and even William, the apple of his mother’s eye, felt a little shut out from whatever it was between them.

But the love between them hadn’t changed the fact that she was just a simple country girl from near his father’s estate and Lord Darlington had been betrothed from childhood to Lady Amelia. The proper marriage had been made shortly before William was conceived and an heir provided by Lady Amelia a few years afterward.

And then Lady Amelia had died. William had thought perhaps his father would marry his mother then, despite her lack of a title or connections, and the glow on his mother’s face had indicated that she had the same hopes. The correspondence had flown between his parents after Lady Amelia was buried, as Lord Darlington made plans to come to the country and join them. But the sickness that had swept through the city had reached the countryside before his father could and the same illness that had removed her rival had taken his mother only a month thereafter.

So he knew firsthand there could be more between a man and a woman than what he would have with, what was her name again? Harmony, yes Harmony, that was it. But sometimes that combination didn’t come along in the person with the right name and breeding. Mostly marriage was just another business deal. This shipping company meant everything to him and he wouldn’t throw it away on the pipe dream of finding a love that might never exist. He gave the horse a final pat and headed into the house to sign the paper.

Chapter 4

Parker knocked nervously on the door. Buffy could be a little spitfire when she got riled up, he’d seen a few fights between her and his mother in the months before she moved from Crawford Place to her little house. Well, she had no reason to get angry with him, he’d brought her a replacement horse. This one was really more appropriate for her anyway. Gordian was a race horse, he didn’t know why her father had given her the beast.

Besides, what other choice did he have? He could have hardly backed down from that smirking English bastard last night. Seemed like everywhere he went, that was all anyone was talking about, William Montgomery and his new shipping business. He knocked again, more forcefully this time.

"Mr. Parker, good morning."

"Good morning, Winifred, I need to see Miss Buffy."

He leered at her and Fred disappeared in a flurry of skirts up the stairs. He watched as she went, wondering if the rumor he’d heard about her being a former lightskirt was true. Seemed like an awfully timid little thing, but Buffy took in the strangest types. He might have to investigate that more closely one of these days.

Why she sent away her little slave girl back North he’d never understood. What had her name been? No matter. She’d been a feisty little piece, quite the fighter when he’d managed a go at her while Buffy was still living with them. He’d have happily bought her if Buffy had been looking to sell, she had more spirit than most, like her mistress he supposed. Well, there was no doubt, Buffy had picked up some odd notions up there in Boston, but she knew better than to push things too far in Charleston.

He stalked around the parlor, impatient for this to be over. Yes, she was an odd little duck, but one of these days she’d come around. Maybe even take him up on some of his . . . offers. Now if she just didn’t pitch a fit and run to his father about that damn horse. He heard a flurry on the upper floor and prepared himself for the confrontation.

+++

Buffy straightened her collar and smoothed her hair in the hall mirror, lightly knocking on Willow’s door. An already coifed Willow emerged, giving Buffy a glimpse of Tara sitting at the dressing table putting the final pins in her hair.

"Good morning Buffy."

"Morning Willow."

She lowered her voice. "Parker’s here. Can one of you rescue me in a bit?"

Willow nodded. "Why is he here at this time of day?" She glanced at the small watch pinned to her bodice. "It’s a little early in the morning for a social call!"

Buffy shrugged. "I hope he’s here to return Mr. Gordo. Though promptness is not one of Parker’s usual traits and I’m surprised they would have had time to look him over at the farrier’s already." Her eyes widened. "Willow, do you think something’s happened to him?"

"Don’t be silly, I’m sure he’s fine. Go on, we’ll be down in a minute."

Buffy took a deep breath to prepare herself for Parker, then descended to find him lurking in the hallway.

"Why Buffy, don’t you look fresh as a morning daisy."

She fought to keep the look of repulsion off her face as he reached for her hand to salute it, avoiding him as she hastily stepped to the side and pretended to tweak a wax flower on the hall occasional table that had been perfectly straight before. "Why thank you Parker, and good day to you as well. Did you bring Gordian back?"

He laughed and took her arm to lead her into the parlor.

"So direct. I always appreciated that about you, Buffy." He steered her to a seat and she pulled away, miffed at his proprietary manner in her own home. "Did I mention that Mother sends her greetings? She’s having a dinner party next week and would like you to attend. She’ll be calling on you this afternoon."

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Parker, you didn’t get up this early to tell me your mother plans to call. Where’s my horse?"

"Now, Buffy . . ."

"Don’t now Buffy me. Where’s Gordian Knot?"

Parker rang the small bell that summoned Fred, who had been lurking outside the door.

"Winifred, can you get us something to drink? Perhaps some sherry? I know it’s early, but Miss Buffy is a bit overwrought."

Fred glanced at the clearly agitated Buffy and gave a quick nod before fleeing. Buffy was on her feet and advancing on Parker by the time he turned around.

"Parker, if you’ve hurt my horse . . ."

"Buffy, the horse is fine. And I’m sure will receive excellent care."

As she came a step closer, Parker threw up his hands. She really was a little fireball, he could almost see the sparks flashing in her eyes.

"Parker, for the last time. Tell me what you’ve done with my horse." He edged off the seat and away from her.

"Well. Last night I had to have dinner with the Wilkins. You know Harmony don’t you?"

"Don’t change the subject Parker," she managed through gritted teeth.

"Right. To abbreviate, after dinner we had a friendly game of cards and the new Englishman, Montgomery, challenged me for Gordian. I couldn’t back down from a challenge to a Southern gentleman’s honor, now could I Buffy? Sadly, he won, through cheating no doubt. So I had to turn over the horse."

As Buffy advanced on him with a conflagration raging in her eyes, he held up his hands and continued.

"So I’ve brought you a young filly from our stables, a real beauty, wonderful lines, very gentle, perfect for a lady like yourself."

He found himself backed against the wall as Buffy’s finger hit his chest.

"I do not want another horse. I want my horse. Get it back, Parker."

"Buffy, I can’t. Montgomery won."

"Oh yes you can. He wasn’t yours to lose. Go tell him that."

Parker backed up again until he reached the hallway and saw the door with relief. Clearly his efforts at appeasement weren’t going to work.

"The little filly’s outside. Sorry about that Buffy, couldn’t be helped. If you want the horse back, you’ll have to get it yourself. " He lunged for the door and was gone before she could react. Buffy watched as the door slammed behind him, then turned and stalked back up the stairs. Willow gaped as she marched past her, her mouth set in a thin, straight line.

"Um, Buffy, what just happened?"

Buffy shook her head and continued her march. Willow turned to Fred, who was staring wide-eyed after Buffy’s retreating skirts, a glass of sherry clutched in her hand.

"Fred?"

"He lost her horse in a bet last night."

Willow gasped. "He lost Mr. Gordo?"

Fred nodded.

"And said he couldn’t get him back because of his honor as a Southern gentleman."

Tara joined them. "Is Buffy alright? She just went slamming into her room."

"Parker lost Mr. Gordo."

"Oh my, did he run away?"

"Not hardly, Parker gambled with him as the stakes."

"Oh. That explains the slamming door."

Fred reemerged from the dining room into the hallway.

"Miss Willow, Miss Tara, would you like some breakfast? I think the little one will be up soon."

Tara turned. "In all this hubbub, I’d almost forgotten we had a new guest. How is she?"

"I think she’s alright. Still shaken though, she was talking quite a bit in her sleep. Poor little mite, she’s just had one terrible thing after the other happen since she arrived in Charleston," Fred replied.

"I’ll go up and talk to her, see if we maybe can find something for her to wear." Tara retreated up the stairs as Willow and Fred made their way back to the dining room.

"So what is Buffy going to do?"

Fred shrugged helplessly. "I don’t know. Mr. Parker told her he couldn’t get Mr. Gordo back, she’d have to herself. He brought her another one though."

Willow grimaced. "Parker is an idiot. Buffy loves Mr. Gordo, she won’t be satisfied with another horse. Do you suppose she’s really going to try to get it back?"

The subject of their conversation appeared in the door, attired in widow’s black from head to toe, smoothing her gloves and straightening her bonnet as if in answer to the question.

"Fred, Willow, I’ll be back shortly."

"Buffy, what are you going to do?" Willow asked with concern. When Buffy got that look in her eye, bad things often happened.

"What that sniveling little fool won’t."

"But, Buffy, it’s not even 8:30 yet, it’s too early to call on anyone!"

Buffy’s determined face hardened further. "I don’t care. Mr. Montgomery will just have to get up, he has my horse."

Willow glanced at Fred, who returned her look of concern. There was little to be done when Buffy was this riled up. "Do you want me to come with you? Or at least take Fred?"

Buffy shook her head firmly. "No. I’m a widow, not some blushing schoolgirl, and this isn’t a social call, it’s business. I don’t need a chaperone. Besides, it’s early, no one will know I’ve been there. Will you just go ahead and check on Dawn, please?"

Willow looked doubtful at this line of reasoning but Buffy was already starting out the door.

"Alright, we will, Buffy. Tara already went up to talk with her and find her something to wear."

+++

Buffy turned the corner as she walked briskly to the next street over where she knew this mysterious Montgomery everyone was so agog over had taken up residence. Convenient that he was so close, she’d hopefully be able to call on him, explain the situation and return with Mr. Gordo before ladies began to leave for the daily shopping at the market.

She paused before the intricate iron gates that opened to the pathway leading to the old Weston mansion. This was it. She took a deep breath and started up the walkway. As she reached the bottom of the steps leading up to the verandah, a momentary wash of panic overtook her. What was she doing here? Alone? At 8:30 in the morning?

Willow had been right, she should have waited for her to accompany her. That would have been more dignified. Though she supposed that her widow’s black should dissuade this Mr. Montgomery that she was some sort of floozy calling on him with improper intentions. Pity he didn’t have a wife, it would have been so much easier to appeal her case if there was a Mrs. Montgomery around.

She mounted the steps to the front door and raised the ornate and heavy knocker. She studied the design, some sort of coat of arms, must be his family’s crest. She wondered idly if he was actually a lord. There had been all sorts of rumors flying about, that he was wealthy as Croecus, that he was going to revolutionize the harbor, that he was a lord looking for a Southern bride to bring new blood into his family.

She snorted delicately. That last one had definitely been the product of too many marriage mad mamas hopeful they’d make the match of the season. Having been that match, Buffy didn’t know who to pity more, the poor girl who ended up stuck with Mr. Montgomery, or him if he succumbed to the lure of a Southern lilt and a fluttering fan. They’d both probably end up miserable.

She raised the knocker again. This was odd. She’d expected better service at a house of this caliber. Maybe he was having trouble adjusting to the servants. She wondered idly if he’d purchased house slaves or just rented them from one of the other families. Either way, no one was answering the door.

She turned and walked down the steps. After glancing around, she moved as stealthily as a large hoop skirt allowed around the corner of the building. If she recalled correctly, the Weston’s had built a small stable in the back.

+++

William finished fastening his tie and rolled his eyes in frustration. He was sure there was someone at the front door knocking.

"Dalton," he roared, "Answer the bleeding door."

A second knock and still no sounds from the foyer which would indicate the door had been answered. He hurried down the steps and yanked open the door. No one. He slammed the door shut and paced back up the steps to the third floor and knocked on the door of his butler’s room.

"Dalton, are you in there?"

A shuffling of feet and Dalton opened the door, a cloth draped across his forehead. "I’m most sorry sir, I though Anna had passed on to you that I was ill. This dreadful weather has laid me low again."

William sighed. Maybe trying to import servants had been a bad idea. But when he’d determined to sell the townhouse in London and move to Charleston permanently for this venture, they’d pleaded as a body to be allowed to come.

And he knew why. Because he was the most pathetic excuse for an employer out there. Give him command of a ship and he was in his element. Put him at the docks and he could order around the biggest and burliest and they’d respect him.

But something about well-trained house servants, with their oh so specific rules and hierarchies completely baffled him. He suspected it was because he hadn’t grown up accustomed to them and had always felt a little bullied when he had visited in his father’s home. At least with Dalton here the man was so mild-mannered he could occasionally make some headway.

"Fine. But you need to arrange for one of the other maids to answer the door if you’re incapacitated. Someone just called and no one answered the door."

"Yes sir, I’ll make sure of it." Dalton winced as he began to move the cloth from his head.

"Go lay back down, I’ll find one of the girls and put her at the front door."

"Excellent, sir. Oh, and I need to bring to your attention that one of the maids has unfortunately left your employment."
"Left? Why?"

"It would appear she has fallen in love with a young farmer who lives up river and has eloped with him."

William took another deep breath. He really, desperately needed someone to handle these domestic crises. He certainly hoped Harmony Wilkins would be useful in that respect at least.

"Very well, begin interviewing."

"Sir?"

"Yes, Dalton?"

"It appears customary for the gentry of this area to use Africans as house servants. I understand they can be purchased in the Market downtown . . ."

William turned. "Dalton, I may be living in this city and I’ll have to adopt some of their ways, but we are English. We do not own slaves. Now there have to be some immigrants to this city, find a nice Irish girl or something."

"Yes, Mr. Montgomery."

+++

Buffy made her way back to the stables and slipped inside. There he was! She slipped the chunk of apple from her reticule and held it out as Mr. Gordo knickered a greeting.

"Yes, my pretty boy, have you been treated well?"

She absently stroked the horse as she looked around the small stable. It was very well kept, she had to admit. Clean, good feed, probably better than where she boarded him. His coat had been brushed to a high gloss as well. She had to give Montgomery some credit, it spoke well of a man to take such good care of his animals. After a few more pats and promises to retrieve him soon, Buffy slipped from the stables. Now to find Montgomery.

+++

William poured another cup of tea from the sideboard as he absently looked out on the rear courtyard. The domestic crisis appeared to be under control. Anna, the head maid, or whatever she was called, he never seemed to have the right title, had assured him she could find a replacement and train her.

Now, if he could just gather his thoughts for a moment, read through the morning paper and have his last cup of tea, he’d be off to the shipyard to catch up with Xander, who’d always been an earlier riser.

A sudden swish of black attacked his attention. He pulled the drape aside and peered out the window. There appeared to be a woman meandering around his backyard. She stepped out of the stable, reentered it, came back out, then started across the courtyard. Was she a horse thief? If so, she had the oddest apparel he’d ever seem for such an endeavor. He hastily crossed to the door and hurried down the steps to accost the woman.

"Miss, ma’am, stop there!"

She turned and he could see past the deep bonnet that had shielded her face. William stopped dead in his tracks.

"Buffy?"

Chapter 5

Buffy blinked and dropped the hand she’d been about to extend in greeting. This had to be Montgomery, he was dressed too nicely to be one of the staff, even if he was lacking his jacket, clad in just a vest and shirtsleeves. She blushed a little. It had been quite some time since she’d seen a man so casual. She felt a brief moment of indignation that he would be so uncouth as to appear this way before a lady, before she recalled that she was doing a rather unladylike thing sneaking around his home so early in the day.

But how did he know her? Know the little pet name her mother had given her as a child, that only family and friends used? Oh, Parker. Last night, at that infernal poker game, he must have been talking about her. She clenched her jaw in frustration. How dare her talk about her with total strangers? He was going to pay for this. Just wait until Lilah called this afternoon, she’d get an earful about her no-good son.

She took a deep breath and calmed herself. She could hear her mother’s voice echoing in her head, Be a lady, Buffy, be a lady. Perhaps she could turn this to her advantage, since he at least knew who she was, possibly appeal to Montgomery’s sense of decency that her scalawag of a former brother-in-law would gamble away a poor widow’s horse.

She cleared her throat, collected herself and raised her gaze to a pair of the most startling blue eyes she’d ever encountered. She blinked again. Then took another calming breath. Oh my, maybe there was more than money inspiring such interest in this Englishman. He was quite . . . attractive. She focused again, realizing he was staring at her now with a bemused grin on his face. Very charming, but strange. What had Parker told him about her? She finally found her voice.

"I do believe you have the advantage of me, sir."

William tried to wipe the smile off his face. Madam Anya must have caught up with her last night and told her about his interest. And here she was already. This was almost too good to be true. His eyes raked up and down her body, swathed in layers of black. The widow’s garb was a bit of a puzzle. Ahh, perhaps that was the reason Anya had said she didn’t work for her, she’d nabbed a husband and had made good, been off the market. But he must have passed and she was looking for a new patron. That would explain things, and probably Anya’s strictness about the callers not visiting with her girls.

If anything, his smile was getting bigger. A widow. This was perfect, she wasn’t some bright-eyed innocent. He briefly shoved aside the thought she might actually be trolling for a replacement husband. She wouldn’t be here offering herself so blatantly if that were the case, she’d have accosted him at one of those infernal dinners and evenings he had to attend to play nice with the local gentry. No, she must be here to make him an offer.

"I do apologize, madam, I am William Montgomery."

She nodded. "How do you do, Mr. Montgomery. I’m Mrs. Elizabeth Crawford, though as you’ve already discovered, my friends and family call me Buffy."

She extended a small gloved hand to him and he took it lightly, bringing it to his lips to drop a small kiss. He felt her stiffen at his touch and met her eyes, surprised by the frostiness there. Oh, oh. He dropped her hand hastily. Right. She’d want to make the arrangements first. Course when they were settled, he wondered if she’d be opposed to a quick tumble to seal the deal. Xander would understand if he was a bit late today. He gave her hand one last squeeze as he let his imagination drift to uncovering her breasts from beneath all those layers of fabric and losing himself in her. He almost groaned at the resulting mental image and the effect it was having on him. It had really been far too long.

"Madam, I do apologize, won’t you come inside? I suppose we have some business to discuss, first."

Buffy followed as he led her up the steps and inside the large home. She was fuming and more than a little angry that she’d let Montgomery get away with such familiarity when they’d barely met. This was supposed to be business. She was also a bit disturbed at herself for the strange little thrill she’d gotten when she’d met his blue eyes while his lips had caressed her gloved hand. She drew her small frame up and stiffened her spine as he held the door for her and guided her into an intimate and well-furnished dining room. She had to admire whoever had been in charge of decorating, it was very tasteful and suited the space.

He directed her to a seat at the dining room table. "Mrs. Crawford, I apologize for the informality, I was just finishing my breakfast. Would you care to join me? Some tea perhaps? Or may I have the maid bring something for you?"

As he finished his question, a small warning bell went off in his mind at something that hadn’t registered when she’d first introduced herself. Crawford. As in Holland Crawford? Parker Crawford? Surely she wasn’t a member of the Crawford family. From all he’d seen, they were leaders amongst the Charleston society, he couldn’t fathom them allowing one of their own to marry a lightskirt, no matter how pretty. Must just be a coincidence, they were probably more than one branch of Crawfords in the area. His cocked his head to the side and studied her as he waited for her response.

Buffy started to refuse, but as her stomach rumbled, she realized she hadn’t taken time for breakfast before storming out of the house. Besides, who knew how long this would take and she could really use something to occupy her hands.

"A cup of tea would be very nice, thank you Mr. Montgomery."

He rang the bell and waited for Anna to appear in the doorway, ordering two cups of tea and some toast and jam. He turned back to the small woman seated primly across from him and contemplated how to start. He had to admit to a slight feeling of awkwardness at the moment. She was clearly eager to make some sort of arrangement, but her body language seemed off somehow, as though she were supremely nervous and reluctant to be there.

He sighed, briefly longing for Dru. She’d been quite obvious in her intentions, catching him after they’d returned to harbor after a long voyage and drawing him into a convenient nearby alley where she’d proceeded to make him an offer he hadn’t been able to refuse. Barmy as they came, had been Dru, but with little pretense about sex and what she wanted.

He stared at the lady across the table who was now fidgeting nervously with her gloves. Why wasn’t she making an opening offer? Or something? Was she waiting on him? Hadn’t she done this before? Or had it been so long she’d forgotten how?

"Well, Mrs. . . ."

"Mr. Montgom . . ."

They both stopped short and laughed nervously as Anna reentered the room bearing the tray of food and drink and politely deposited the teapot in front of Buffy to serve. Buffy lifted the china, grateful to have something to do and prepared to start again.

"Mr. Montgomery, if I may speak first, I do apologize for intruding so early upon you. And I want to clarify that this is a business call."

She peeked up at him through her lashes as she carefully poured the tea and passed it to him, surprised at how upbeat he looked about the prospect of discussing business with her. She really hoped he wasn’t going to be difficult about this.

William breathed a silent sigh of relief. He’d been right, she was just in the market for a new patron, not a husband. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He leaned forward eagerly.

"Of course, Mrs. Crawford. Or may I call you Buffy? You did say that’s what your friends called you, didn’t you? And I hope we’ll be good friends."

She didn’t think she would even have admitted to Willow the little shiver that ran up her spine at the silky sound of his voice saying her name. No, that of course would not be why she consented to his request at all. Better to be friendly, catch more flies than honey, that sort of thing, than bristle at the suggestion.

She smiled graciously at him as she completed pouring her own cup and sat down the teapot. "I certainly hope so as well, Mr. Montgomery. And of course, among friends you may call me Buffy."

"And you, of course, must call me William. So we are to be friends, Buffy? I do look forward to that."

Damn that little shiver in the pit of her stomach. There was something just a little too intimate in the tone of his voice when he’d said they’d be friends, but nothing she could call him on exactly. She struggled to regain her focus and return to the point of her business.

"Wonderful. But there is some unfinished business that we really must discuss. I know this is a bit unorthodox, and I want to assure you that I don’t really do this sort of thing. "

William smiled. Her nervousness was very adorable. Somehow that fact that she was less brazen and seemed more innocent was growing on him. One of his parameters was certainly going to be her exclusive commitment to him, no philandering like Dru, and Buffy didn’t seem the type anyway. But he was growing tired of the shillyshallying, time to end these negotiations. He was already picturing her upstairs, spread out on his bed as he delved beneath the frothy layers of her skirt. He couldn’t wait to see that lovely blonde hair laying across his pillows as he pounded months of frustration into her willing body.

"Or course not, Buffy. Now, how about we just make this easy for both of us? Why don’t you just tell me what you want? I think you’ll find I’m prepared to be most accommodating."

Buffy stared at him wide-eyed. Was it going to be that easy? She couldn’t help the genuine smile that broke across her face.

"Why, Gordian Knot of course."

William’s jaw dropped as he stared at her. She wanted a horse? All she wanted was a horse?

"That’s all you want, a horse? No money, or clothes, or a house?"

Buffy furrowed her brow as she stared at him in confusion.

"A . . . house? And clothes and money? Why would I . . ."

And then the light dawned. She almost passed out as she realized what he’d thought her business was. He thought she was there to proposition him. If the floor could have opened and swallowed her then and there, she would have been grateful. Her face grew bright red as she watched the puzzlement grow on his face and then his realization begin to break as well. For the briefest of moments she wondered what he would do if she were to accept his offer, to start a secret liaison and be his mistress, to feel something, anything again.

But she shoved that thought quickly aside as improper and tried to think of what to say next. Coming up with nothing relevant, she decided perhaps a hasty exit would be the better course of action as another wave of hot shame washed over her. He’d thought she was a prostitute. She jumped from her chair, heedless of the jolt which sent tea sloshing onto the table, and raced for the door.

And he moved almost as quickly, catching her just as she reached the exit and holding her arm while he shut the barrier to keep the remainder of the conversation from the prying ears of the servants. She ducked her head, refusing to meet his gaze as she twisted, trying to remove his grasp of her arm, but he held tight.

"Buffy, stop it, stop. Bloody hell, women, stop thrashing and look at me for a minute."

He almost relented and let go of her at that moment as she stilled, tears in her eyes as she finally looked at him.

"Now, why don’t we start from the top and see if we can’t see what’s going on here. Buffy Crawford, I’m William Montgomery. I’m recently from England, a new resident in your city and thought I was meeting a young lady this morning who had a, well, shall we say personal interest in getting to know me better. I believe that I was mistaken and I offer my sincere apologies So why don’t you tell me who you are and why you’re really here."

A tear rolled down her cheek as she met his gaze, more threatening to follow. This had to be one of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to her. If word of this ever got out, she was ruined. Lilah would have a field day with this one.

"Luv, stay with me here. Who are you? And what do you want?"

His face was a little too close for comfort and propriety and their position was hardly appropriate, her body trapped as it was between him and the smooth wood of the door. Despite her voluminous skirts, she could feel the hardness of his body as he kept her locked by his gaze and the loose prison of his arms. Well, there wasn’t any way out of this, she just had to hope he’d be kind enough not to tell about their little encounter. Just what she needed, something else to have to ask him for.

She took a shuddering breath and managed to get out, "I’m not a . . . a . . . fallen woman, if that’s what you think."

He quirked his head to the side and smiled at her. "Already told you I’d sussed that one out. If you had been, you were doing a bit of a bad job with it, little too stiff. So what don’t you tell me who you are."

She managed a small smile in return and thought about how to answer that. "I’m Elizabeth Crawford. I’m a widow and I live the next street over." She paused. Why had she volunteered that bit of information? That was irrelevant. "My husband’s brother, Parker, played cards with you last night and lost something of mine and I came to see if you might let me have it back."

"So you are part of the Crawfords, wondered when you introduced yourself."

She bristled at that. "I am not a Crawford, just because I happened to have married one. I’m a Summers."

He laughed, she certainly could change moods quickly. Feisty little thing. He was starting to regret that she wasn’t here for her original purpose, the more he saw of her, the more he liked, not just her outward beauty, but the spark she had, the way she was looking out for herself. He dropped his arms and led her back to the table.

"I think I can see why you don’t care for the in-laws there, didn’t fancy them too much myself, least the ones I’ve met. Now, let’s talk about this horse."

She mopped absently at the spilled tea with her napkin as she explained how Parker had taken the horse and he agreed with her summation that Parker was a right bastard, even if she used less colorful language. She’d launched into some long story about her father giving her Gordian for her sixteenth birthday and how much she loved the beast and so on. He idly though that it was hardly fair of him to keep the horse, she seemed very attached to it. But something in him was reluctant to acquiesce too quickly and have her waltz out the door again. He hadn’t been this entertained in he couldn’t remember how long by a woman. As she earnestly continued the tales of the perfection of Gordian, the paragon of horseflesh, he idly considered how to delay her.

A knock on the door interrupted them and William rose to open it to Anna, who wore a troubled look on her face.

"Yes? I’m a bit busy now."

"But sir, Cook’s insisting that she can’t find any good lamb at the market and that she’s going back to London on the next boat if she’s not given adequate supplies to work with."

He almost growled. He was tempted to just fire the lot then and there. Who needed a gaggle of servants to nag and pick and undercook his food and ruin his laundry and run off with bloody farmers to the wilderness? He could probably muddle through just as well on his own.

He was just about to inform Anna that they could all take the next boat back when Buffy appeared by his side, tears gone, perfectly composed, with the demeanor that seemed to frighten servants which he never could pull off.

"Anna, I believe your name was?"

Anna nodded.

"Anne, I’m Mrs. Crawford, a friend of Mr. Montgomery’s. I couldn’t help but overhear your cook was having some problems locating fresh lamb, and I was wondering if she’d tried Johnson’s butcher stall at the city market? He always has the freshest cuts. I’ll be going to market myself later today, I’d be happy to show your cook where he’s located, if she’d like."

Anna beamed. "Could you miss? I think she’d be quite happy with that. I’ll go tell her."

William shut the door and turned to the composed Buffy as he paced across the room. "How did you do that? And so calmly? Every time I turn around they’re all having a crisis and want me to solve it. Like I know the slightest thing about running a house."

She shrugged and resumed her seat more in control now. "It’s one thing I do know how to do and well. I’m surprised you don’t have a housekeeper to handle those matters."

"She didn’t want to come with the rest from London and I haven’t had time to find anyone else. Another one of the maids just quit this morning. Don’t know what we’ll do about replacing her."

She bit her lip, a quick thought flashing through her head. "Are you only interested in English servants?"

He flashed her a sharp look. "I don’t want slaves, if that’s what you’re asking."

She shook her head. "Actually, I wasn’t."

He stopped his pacing and sat back down, returning his focus to her. "Well, enough about my domestic troubles, seems like what you’re asking is I just hand back over the horse and call it even."

Buffy perked up and smiled at him. "Yes, exactly, that’s the fair thing."

He grinned, waiting for the explosion he suspected he was about to set off. "But what about me? I won that horse fair and square in a hand of cards. Way I see it, I’m an innocent who just got rooked by your less than honorable relation. Now is it fair for me to be deprived of my winnings?"

He watched her eyes narrow as her obvious fury grew, as he’d expected. "You deprived? You probably cheated to win. You know now that it wasn’t his. How can you not give it back?"

"Well, I suppose that I could. But I feel I should have something in return for my trouble. After all, there’s not just the matter of the horse, now is there, Mrs. Crawford? I seem to recall seeing you last night at an establishment not generally frequented by ladies of your caliber."

Buffy blanched as she watched his eyes drop to her breasts. Surely he didn’t mean . . . But he knew now that she wasn’t . . .he’d seen her at Anya’s! It took everything in her not to bolt again as she met his gaze and listened to the next few words.

"I sure we could work out an arrangement that would be mutually beneficial to us both, Buffy."

Chapter 6

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Mr. Montgomery?" Her voice had gotten colder with every word. He almost laughed out loud. She was indeed quite fun to play with. He batted his eyes at her in his most charming manner.

"Why I just meant perhaps you could assist me with something I need in return for that fine steed. In fact, I’d even be willing board him for you, keep him in fine shape and you can visit him every time you’re here."

Her lips were a thin line as she rose from her seat, one gloved finger poking the air to emphasize her words. "Mr. Montgomery, I realize that seeing me where you apparently think you saw me last night may have create the wrong impression in your mind. But let me assure you, I am not interested in being your or anyone else’s mistress."

He stood and moved around the table, capturing the wildly gesticulating hand. "Why, Buffy, I do believe you have a bit of a dirty mind. I was merely suggesting that you might assist me with my domestic troubles, take care of running things smoothly until I can find a new housekeeper."

He couldn’t suppress the chuckle as he watched her fury deflate as she sheepishly looked up at him. "You want me to just oversee your staff for a bit? That’s all?"

His eyebrow arched, "Well, you did say you were quite good at it. Course, if you have other things that you’re gifted at that you’d like to share, I’m not opposed."

She blushed again as she disentangled her hand from his and backed up a step. "I don’t think I have any other gifts to share."

He closed the space again until she felt the back of the chair halt her retreat. "Oh, I’d be very surprised if that were true. You look as though you’d be very gifted, Buffy." As soon as the words left his mouth, he could see he’d crossed the line again.

"Mr. Montgomery . . ."

"William, call me William."

"If you’re to be my employer, I hardly think I can call you by your Christian name."

"I’m not going to be your employer. We’ll have a business arrangement. You’ll provide me with a service I need, and I’ll provide you with one you need, Buffy."

There went that little tingle again. How did he make such innocent things sound so, well, not innocent. Service indeed.

"Very well, William, please return to your seat and let’s work out the details of this arrangement."

He grinned and sat back down and she felt her head clearing as the proximity lessened. What was she getting herself into? A half hour in this man’s presence and she was suddenly agreeing to all sorts of things, rather than just walking away with her horse.

She looked around the dining room. "Do you have any paper and something to write with? I think we should formalize this."

He nodded and exited the room, returning shortly with the requested items. She took off her gloves and in her careful and precise handwriting wrote their names and the date at the top, then paused.

"So you would like for me to oversee your household, in the sense that I would manage your servants, see that work is performed properly, meals are well-planned, do the necessary marketing and so forth. Relieve you of any domestic responsibilities."

He nodded.

She wrote for a moment then stopped.

"You understand of course that I won’t be doing this full-time? I have a home of my own to maintain. Additionally, this is a rather unusual arrangement and I’d rather it was not well-known that I was assisting you."

He mock gasped. "Why, are you ashamed to be associated with the notorious new Englishman?"

She frowned and tapped his hand with the pen. "Don’t be ridiculous. It might be misinterpreted as a irregular liaison and I would prefer that my good name not be besmirched. Therefore I would ask that you not mention this arrangement to others."

He acquiesced then stopped her as she prepared to write again. "Wait, there is one person who would need to know, my business partner Xander. He’s living here for the time until we get the new company off the ground."

"Can he be discreet?"

William nodded. "Absolutely."

"Very well, we’ll just say no one outside our respective households. Now, I’d like to have the discretion to engage and dismiss servants as necessary. I think you may have a few malcontents used to your style who may give me a bit of lip. I understand the type of servants you’re interested in having and I’ll respect your wishes regarding that."

"Very well."

She scribbled again, exhilarated that she’d found a place so quickly for Dawn. This would be perfect and she could check on her frequently. "Very well. Now in return, you’ll continue to board Mr. Gordo and take excellent care of him."

William laughed, "I’m sorry, Mr. who?"

Buffy blushed. She really needed to stop doing that around him. "Gordian, it’s just a little pet name I have for him. Now as I was saying, will you agree to that?"

"Of course, I’ll treat him as one of my own. He’s a fine horse, Buffy."

"I know. And thank you for taking care of him so well. He looked very happy out there."

William made a mental note to slip a little extra in the groom’s pay packet. He wanted to see that look of gratitude on her face on a regular basis. "Not a problem."

"And that brings us to the final thing." She paused for a long moment. "How did you know I was at Anya’s last night?"

He shrugged. "I was there. Saw you come up the alley while I was waiting in her parlor, heard her let you in."

She refused to meet his eyes. "Oh."

He reached across the table and took her hand. "Buffy, I don’t know your reasons for being there. And I don’t suppose they’re any of my business. But I won’t mention it, your secret is safe with me."

"Really?"

"Really."

"I was there to rescue a little girl," she blurted out.

William looked at her puzzled. "Pardon?"

"I met Anya a few months ago when one of her girls got in trouble. She needed help and I offered it and of course Anya was angry that I had stolen one of her employees. She’s a bit irrational sometimes about the way she runs things. I suppose you got her little talk last night?"

He nodded, bemused as she continued her explanation.

"Well, anyway, Anya just showed up on my doorstep and confronted me about Fred and . . ."

"Fred? I thought it was a girl."

"Winifred. Anya and I managed to reach an agreement and we’ve been friends of sorts since then. And every so often I help one of her girls out when they want something else, a new start. Anya has consented, she seems to think they won’t be good for business if they’re unhappy."

He stared at her. Of all the explanations for her presence there last night, this one was rather unexpected. She was a half-way house for former ladies of the night? And seemed to be on very familiar terms with one of the biggest madams in Charleston?

She could see his startled expression and she grabbed his hand. "William, you see it’s very important no one knows about this thing . . . that I know her. It would ruin me and the girls I’ve helped if people knew what they’d been."

He covered her hand with his other one and ran his thumb over her silky skin, vaguely aware that she’d probably change moods and throw something at him shortly for that liberty. "You’re quite an amazing lady, Mrs. Crawford. I must say that I’m rather happy that I cheated at that hand of cards last night, otherwise, I would have never had the pleasure of your acquaintance."

"So you did cheat?" Her tone held a small amount of amusement mingled with the indignation.

"Couldn’t really lose now could I, to that insufferable prat."

She dimpled, "I suppose not." She dropped her gaze. "Did you have a nice time . . . at Anya’s, last night?"

He gave a small laugh. "Well, learned who you were, which was nice. But no, I changed my mind and came on home last night, spent some quality time with Mr. Gordo out there."

She looked at him hard. Was he lying to her? He’d gone to Anya’s and not gotten what people went there for? But his gaze seemed innocent enough and he didn’t look as though he were lying.

"Oh," was all she managed to respond, but she tucked that little fact away for later consideration.

His thumb crossed the cold metal of her ring as it made another pass across her palm and he couldn’t resist asking, "Buffy, how long ago did you husband die?"

Her face shuttered as the mood shifted and the question hung in the air. She withdrew from him and resumed adding the details to their impromptu contract. "Angel? He died about two years ago."

"Was he ill?"

"He had a sudden accident, fell off a horse and broke his neck."

Her voice was closed off and he dropped the subject. Clearly she was still not able to talk about his death. He felt a flash of momentary jealousy for the man who’d had the love of this entrancing creature, such a love that she still wore mourning and his ring long after custom would have allowed her less somber apparel.

She made a final scribble and slid the paper across the table for him to sign, then added her own flourish.

"So, we have an arrangement?"

"I suppose we do."

She offered her hand for them to seal the deal with a shake as she’d seen her father do many times, but he surprised her when he took her hand and raised it to his lips. The tingle she’d felt before when he kissed her glove seemed a pale imitation to the feel of his lips on her bare hand. She wanted to jerk away, wanted to make some witty, offhand remark to put him in his place, but she found herself mesmerized again by his eyes as he lingered a brief moment too long.

As he gently returned her hand and she fumbled hastily to slip her fingers back into the glove, she managed to collect herself.

"William, if we’re to have this arrangement, you can’t keep doing things like that."

"Like what?"

"Like kissing my hand."

He frowned at her. "My sincerest apologies, I saw several gentleman bestowing such a small token on the young ladies at the dinner party last night, was I in error?"

She colored slightly. "No, I mean, yes, that is done in a social setting of course, sometimes. But not in private like this, with just us, it’s not proper."

"Is that really why you don’t want me to touch you, Buffy?"

She gathered her reticule and slid the folded document inside. "Of course. If we’re to have a business arrangement, it wouldn’t be proper to act otherwise."

He let the matter drop for the moment. After all, he’d gotten her to agree to this little deal, he’d see her more often, and who knew where things might lead? There was certainly an attraction between them, he knew he’d affected her. Maybe she could be persuaded to something more later, given time. If nothing else, the pursuit would be interesting. And he was more excited by her than he’d been . . . well, really than he’d ever been. He’d concede the battle for the moment, but the war was just starting.

"Very well, Buffy, I’ll walk you home."

"Oh, that’s not necessary, it’s just the next street over, I’ll be fine."

He shook his head firmly. "Nonetheless, I’m about to leave for the docks so I’ll accompany you. One moment while I get my coat. Why don’t you go have that talk with Cook?"

She watched as he bounded off and she stared at the piece of paper that peeked from the top of her bag. What had she gotten herself into?

+++

As they turned the block, she halted him at the gate to her small row house. "This is me."

An awkward pause grew as they both stared at each other, as if oddly reluctant to let their time together end.

"Well, it was interesting meeting you, Mr. William Montgomery."

"Likewise Mrs. Buffy Summers Crawford."

She turned and walked through the gate and let herself into the house as he continued to watch until the door closed firmly behind her.

He glanced at his pocket watch. Bugger, Xan was going to kill him for being so late.

++++

Buffy shut the door and tried unsuccessfully to sneak up the stairs to her room. She suspected she needed a few minutes to compose herself and get the flush off her cheeks before she encountered all her friends.

She made it to the second step.

"Buffy, what happened?"

She turned slowly to find Willow, Tara, Fred and Dawn staring at her expectantly.

"Did you get back Mr. Gordo?" the normally quiet Tara chimed in.

"Was that him outside Miss Buffy?" Fred inquired.

She sighed. "Why don’t we all go into the dining room and I’ll tell you everything."

She proceeded to give a highly edited version of the morning’s events and the agreement that had been struck, emphasizing the wonderful lodging for Mr. Gordo and how much closer he’d be than where she’d previously had to keep him. She turned to Dawn, who had grown a little less withdrawn, though still quiet as the conversation continued.

"So what do you think, Dawn? Would you like to work for Mr. Montgomery? We’ll train you as you go and you can continue to stay here, if you prefer, or you’d have your own room over there, if you’d rather."

Dawn nodded slowly. "I think that would be good. Will I have a uniform?"

"Yes, and plenty of food, and a half day per week in addition to your pay and lodging."

"Will, will she be able to find me?"

Buffy shook her head, knowing exactly who Dawn was afraid of by the tremble in her tone. "No Dawn. She’ll never find you at Mr. Montgomery’s house. You’ll be safe there."

She gave the slight girl a hug. "Alright, that’s enough then. I think we have some things to teach Dawn and if Parker is to be believed, Lilah will be calling this afternoon."

Her statement was met by a chorus of groans as they all started about their day.

+++

"Will, where the hell have you been? We have several reports due at noon today, if I might remind you."

William plopped down at his desk and threw his feet on the massive oak top. "I’m ready to work Xan, throw’m at me."

He grimaced as Xander tossed the stack of papers on his stomach. "Didn’t mean literally. I’ll be glad when Wes gets here, paperwork’s more his forte anyway."

Xander looked up from the paper he’d returned to. "Don’t I know it. But he should be here in a week or so, at least that’s what his latest letter said." He glanced at his partner, who continued to have a bemused expression as he sorted through the papers and began to work on a report. "What’s got you so cheery this morning?"

"You remember last night, the girl I saw in the alleyway? I met her this morning."

"This morning?"

"Yep. You’re never going to believe this."

He recounted the events to Xander, who let out a long whistle as he reached the end of the tale.

"So she’s not a prostitute?"

"Nope."

"But she does rescue them?"

"Uh-huh."

"Strange."

"I thought so."

"And she’s our new housekeeper?"

"Part-time, but yes."

"And you still have her horse?"

"Indeed I do."

"You are a silver-tongued devil."

William smiled.

"But may I remind you that you got yourself engaged yesterday?"

And just like that, William’s face fell. He’d completely forgotten that Harmony Wilkins even existed.

Chapter 7

Buffy looked around the sitting room. Well, everything was as presentable as it could be, clean as a pin, nothing to give her mother-in-law grounds for criticism. Not that she needed any, she’d find some way to slip a catty remark in before the visit was over, Buffy had no doubt.

Dawn had done very well and seemed quite eager to please, now that her anxiety over being returned to the streets had passed. Buffy smiled. She actually reminded her of the way she’d been at her age, always curious, full of questions.

Well, that’s what a good finishing school would do for you, take away the need to know and replace it with a need to please. She gave one last pat to the sofa cushion and headed upstairs to see how Willow and Tara were progressing. She really shouldn’t be too hard on the school she’d attended. Quite nice really, Mrs. Greenlee had been open to the study of a number of academic subjects in addition to the more ladylike charms which needed to be acquired to snare a mate. And the little old lady had been more than a little radical, hosting lectures on abolition, women’s suffrage, and even a talk by the ladies of the Reformed Women’s Society.

She smiled at little at the memory of the former prostitutes who had given their tale of sin and redemption to thirty attentive schoolgirls, alternately titillated and horrified. She could only imagine the reaction if it had been Anya up there, lecturing on the values of capitalism and the money which could be made from men.

"Willow, Tara, are you up here?"

"Upstairs, Buffy."

She climbed to the third floor, where Fred slept in one of two small rooms, the other providing a small sewing area for dressmaking and repairs. Tara was painstakingly giving Dawn a sewing lesson, nodding approvingly in her patient way as the girl added stitches in a neat row.

"Hi Dawn, how is your lesson going?"

"I think I’m getting better, see this row’s all straight!"

Buffy smiled as she eyed the seam and added her praise. She almost wished they had the extra room to just let Dawn stay here, send her to school. Maybe she could train to be a teacher, some sort of livelihood that left her less at the mercy of fickle mistresses or masters. They could always turn this room into another bedroom, even if it would be a bit crowded. There was something about Dawn, she was still so innocent and open, though Buffy wasn’t naïve enough to think she hadn’t at least glimpsed the seamier side of life in the last few days.

She’d have to think on that, consult with the others about adding another permanent member to the household, not just a temporary boarder.

+++

The knock from the rear signaled a visitor as Fred hurried to open the door, knowing who this had to be. The only folks who used the rear were the ones who didn’t want to be seen.

"Miss Anya, how are you?"

"Fine, Fred. Ready to come back yet?" Fred flushed and shook her head at the question Anya always asked, as though she almost couldn’t fathom how one could give up working for her to be a house drudge.

"No, I’m fine here, quite comfortable Anya. Thank you for asking."

Anya shrugged. "Very well, if you’re satisfied. Is Buffy around? I need to tell her something. And how is the little girl doing?"

"She’s good, Miss Buffy found her a place already."

Anya raised an eyebrow. "So soon, I’m quite impressed. Does she have any callers right now?"

Fred shook her head. "Not right now, Mrs. Crawford is supposed to be coming by though."

Anya wrinkled her nose at the mention of Lilah. Buffy might not talk very much about Angel and the specifics of their relationship, but she’d rant to the high heavens on the topic of her mother-in-law. It was always amusing to watch the normally controlled Buffy work herself into a snit over Lilah’s thinly veiled barbs.

"Very well, I’ll be sure to leave before she arrives. Are Willow and Tara here as well?"

"Yes, they’re upstairs with Dawn, shall I get them?"

Anya thought for a minute. "No, I’d better speak with Buffy alone."

She entered the parlor where Buffy sat reading. She looked up, surprised at the sudden entrance.

"Anya, you startled me, I didn’t hear you come in. I’m expecting . . ."

"I know, Lilah. Fred told me all about it. Why do you even put up with her Buffy? Why don’t you just tell her you don’t want to see her again? You dread her visits, you hate the social events she makes you attend, and you have no obligations to her any longer. Tell her that her son was a womanizing mama’s boy and you’d prefer to never see a Crawford again."

Buffy almost laughed at the thought of Lilah’s face if she delivered such a speech. It would be almost worth the repercussions to see the shade of purple she’d turn.

"Thank you Anya, but you know I can’t do that. Besides, she only calls on me when she needs an extra person for her dinner parties or some charity work organized. She doesn’t come round that often."

Anya snorted. "Unlike that twit Parker. Did I tell you I had him tossed out last week? He tried to get rough with one of the girls. Quite a sick little bastard. That’s one client whose patronage I’m happy to lose. But that’s not why I’m here."

Buffy cocked her head to the side. "Dawn’s fine, I’ll go get her."

As she rose to leave the room, Anya caught her arm. "I do want to see her and Fred told me you’d found her a place, which I want to hear about, but there’s something I need to tell just you."

Buffy sat back down and looked at the concerned expression on Anya’s face that suddenly made her nervous. "Alright then, do tell."

Anya decided to just plunge right in with the bad news she’d come to deliver. "Last night, I had two new customers come in while you were there. Buffy, one of them saw you and heard your name."

Buffy nodded. "William Montgomery and his partner Xander . . . oh dear, I don’t recall his last name, but it was them, right?"

Anya looked baffled and slightly deflated to have her announcement received so nonchalantly. "Yes, did you see them there? Aren’t you concerned?"

"No, William and I already discussed it this morning and reached an understanding." She tried to hide her smirk as she watched Anya’s shocked expression.

"This morning? Then he found you last night? Buffy, did you . . . ?"

Buffy’s smirk turned into a confused frown. "He was looking for me last night? And did I what?"

Anya perked back up. This was getting interesting. "Buffy, he thought you were one of my girls. He specifically asked for you for the night. Of course I told him you weren’t available and tried to give him Francine, but he actually walked out. Paid her and did nothing. So he found you? And you . . ."

Buffy gasped, suddenly clear on where Anya’s mind had gone. "No Anya, we most certainly did not," she replied, her tone almost frosty.

Her head was spinning as she processed Anya’s comments. He’d asked for her last night? Out of all the beautiful girls who worked for Anya?

She knew he’d played with her this morning, making that joke about an offer, but she hadn’t thought that he . . . well she just hadn’t thought. She recalled the way he’d looked at her, wondering momentarily as she replayed the morning’s events if there had been genuine interest there, not just mild flirting to make her nervous after he’d discovered who she was. She dismissed the thought as a product of her overactive imagination and Anya’s need for compulsive matchmaking. He couldn’t possibly see her that way.

Anya wasn’t about to let this drop so easily. "But, you said you discussed it this morning . . ."

Buffy filled her in on Parker’s latest escapades, her early morning rescue mission and finally her agreement with Montgomery.

"So you’re going to work for him, just as a housekeeper?" Anya regarded Buffy with some skepticism.

Buffy nodded.

"Buffy, I’ve been around a bit. I know when men are interested and when they aren’t. And he was interested in you. And likely still is, you understand that?"

"Don’t be ridiculous, Anya. He just wants a housekeeper."

"Buffy, he made you an offer to be his mistress! I’m sure he could find a housekeeper if he wanted to, some ugly old bag with nothing to do but keep his house in tiptop shape. Instead he asks you, a woman he’d just been ready to give a house to. I imagine he’s more interested in you being in his bed than making sure it’s made properly."

She rolled her eyes. "Anya, no offense, but I think he thought I was some poor widow there to throw myself at him. That offer was him being polite, in a twisted sort of way. I’m hardly the type of woman someone would want as a mistress."

Anya wondered what exactly it would take to open Buffy’s eyes. It was clear William was in pursuit of her and she seemed quite oblivious. He found her attractive, he wanted her around, but he wasn’t pushing to bed her, at least not so blatantly as to cause Buffy to run for the door. But hiring her as his housekeeper? One did not hire ladies from good families like Buffy to do that sort of thing. What was he after? Suddenly it was clear as a bell. Anya clapped her hands together with glee.

"Buffy, you’re right! He wouldn’t want to make you his mistress. You are a bit prissy for that and obviously a lady. But have you thought he might be interested in something more legitimate? Like marriage?"

Buffy wrinkled her brow. "Marriage? To me?"

Anya nodded fervently. "Yes! He’s obviously in the market for a wife, he’s been attending all the right parties for a man who’s ready to settle down, based on the gossip I’ve heard. He wants to establish himself in the city, what better way than to settle down with a nice local girl? And you’d be perfect, good family, very ladylike, and he clearly finds you attractive."

Buffy found her collar seemed to be growing tighter as Anya rambled on about the virtues of a match with William and tugged at the tight band of lace. Marry her? He might be assessing her as a wife? Of course that made a bit of sense, with the whole housekeeper bit being an odd sort of audition to see if she could manage his large household. An odd sort of courtship, but more practical than the moonlight and magnolias of last time, which hadn’t worked out so well. And he was somewhat charming and very handsome and there was that strange spark she’d felt when he touched her and . . .

She practically leapt off the sofa. What was she thinking? A slight show of interest from a man who didn’t ooze slime like Parker and she was practically swooning. Hadn’t she learned anything the last time around? Damn Anya and her flights of fancy.

"Anya. Don’t be ridiculous. Mr. Montgomery just needs a bit of assistance at the moment with his staff and happens to have something that I need as well. Besides, I’m sure if he’s looking for a bride, he’ll not be wanting a widow. And the last thing I need is to be married again. I am entirely content with my life as it is."

Anya shrugged, her expression showing she was unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Buffy. I know two things very well, men and money. And that man wanted you last night, one way or the other. And you don’t have to marry him, you know. You could always consider a discreet arrangement that would be mutually beneficial to you both, if you’d just be a little less rigid. After all, you wouldn’t be hurting anyone."

"Anya, I can’t do . . ." Buffy gestured wildly for the polite term and came up blank, "that."

"If you say so. I understand why you don’t wish to marry again, Buffy, I know it can be burdensome. But there must be times when you get lonely. I suspect Montgomery could provide you with some intense physical gratification, if you would allow it. He looked as though he could be quite talented. And based on my assessment of the tight trousers he was wearing last night, I believe he’s well-endowed as well. It could be a pleasant arrangement for you both."

Buffy turned red. "Anya!" She reached for the small beaded pillow and buried her head. "Please stop."

Anya laughed, "Fine, little miss innocent. You’d think you’d never been married and I was defiling your virgin ears."

+++

Fred peered out the window at the horse in front. That wasn’t Miss Lilah, she always brought the carriage. She pulled the curtain a bit wider. Oh, it was the new gentleman, Mr. Montgomery, the one little Dawn was to work for. She glanced to the side into the parlor where Miss Buffy was still in deep conversation with Anya. She hated to interrupt, but he would be knocking any minute now.

She rapped softly on the door. "Miss Buffy, Mr. Montgomery is outside."

Buffy almost jumped and colored heavily. Speak of the devil and there he was. Well, he already knew about her friendship with Anya, it could hardly hurt for her to stay. Unless she decided to start with this ridiculous nonsense she’d been spouting again. Anya did have a tendency to say whatever was on her mind at the moment. She gave her friend a determined look and mouthed, "Not a word about this in front of him," before raising her voice and turning back to Fred.

"Send him in. It’s alright Fred, he knows Anya and I are friends," she clarified at Fred’s confused expression.

+++

As the knock sounded in the hallway, Fred smoothed her skirts and opened the door. "Good afternoon, Mr. Montgomery."

"Good afternoon, and you are?"

Fred giggled, and dropped a brief curtsey, "Winifred, sir, though most call me Fred."

William smiled at the slight girl. So this was one of Buffy’s projects, eh? He wondered if the house was full of them, he’d be willing to wager it was. He turned to find Buffy standing in the doorway to the parlor.

"Good afternoon Mr. Montgomery, would you care to join us?"

As he stripped off his gloves and handed them along with his hat to Fred, who disappeared down the hallway, he shook his head at her.

"Now, now, luv, I thought we agreed you’d call me William."

He stopped short in the doorway as he realized she already had company, none other than Madam Anya herself. He had to give it to this Buffy, she was not predictable in the slightest. Sneaking around trying to recover her horse on her own, rescuing ladies of the night and entertaining a whore in her parlor. And managing to look very dignified the entire time. He had to admit, he was quite impressed. He composed the grin he knew was threatening his face as he stepped forward to take Anya’s hand.

"How do you do, Madam Anya." He dropped a small kiss on her hand before turning to Buffy. "And you of course look well, Miss Buffy." He took her hand and gave her another one of those lingering caresses as she tried desperately to recover her thoughts and ignore Anya’s smirking face over William’s shoulder.

William winked at her as he released her hand, knowing he’d riled her just a little more before taking the seat she indicated.

Buffy reseated herself and took a deep breath to recover her composure. "Mr. Montgomery, how can we help you today?"

"William, my dear, William. I simply wanted to stop by and speak with you just a moment about tomorrow, I realized we’d forgotten to clarify a few details." He stopped, remembering that he’d agreed to confidentiality about their arrangement and Anya was clearly listening with avid ears.

Buffy noticed his consternation. "William, I’ve spoken with Anya about our agreement. It’s fine."

"Wonderful, I just wanted to know what time you’d be coming in the mornings. I’d like for us to breakfast together each day so that we could go over household details, you could catch me up on the staff, and so forth."

As he saw her open her mouth to protest, he hurried on. "It would really be most convenient for me that way, I have so little free time now, what with working on the shipping company."

"But I could just leave you reports. Yes, very detailed written reports on your desk, daily."

William shook his head. "But sometimes the written word just can’t convey the same message now can it? And domestic matters can be so delicate."

Buffy watched him closely. He looked innocent enough, but there was something, the ghost of a smirk they made her suspicious of his motives. Probably just Anya’s insane suggestions. "Very well, William, I’ll be prepared to report to you each morning."

"Excellent. Well, now that business is taken care of, I apologize, Miss Anya, for being so rude."

Anya shook her head, clearly fascinated by these two. Buffy was blind if she couldn’t see what William was after. This whole thing was just a blatant excuse to be around her.

"Not at all. It’s so nice to see you again, and I do apologize for last night. I’m sorry that Francine wasn’t quite up to your standards." She almost laughed as she watched his eyes flicker to Buffy who had developed a strong fascination with the fringe on the pillow she was holding in her lap as soon as Anya mentioned the brothel.

He cleared his throat. "Yes, about that. Quite sorry to leave so unexpectedly. Had some pressing paperwork that I’d forgotten about that I had to attend to right away. Francine was a lovely girl, I hope you won’t hold her accountable. She was most gracious."

Buffy was certain she could not tear her eyes away from the fringe on the pillow if her life depended on it. She could not believe the conversation these two were having, these things just weren’t talked about in public. Well, unless you were friends with Anya, she thought as she recalled their earlier conversation. Should she try to change the topic? Would that be too obvious? Too late, Anya was barreling on.

"No, she explained the situation. However, my offer is still good, since I wasn’t able to find someone that worked for you. Visit us again, any night, no charge. Would you say that blondes are where your interests lie, petite, green eyes?"

Anya all but laughed watching him fight the urge to look over at Buffy as she described the woman now clutching the pillow in her lap. "Miss Anya, I think that sounds very nice, but perhaps we could discuss this in another setting. I would not care to offend Miss Buffy."

Anya nodded her understanding, but moved on casually in the same vein. "And Mr. Harris, was he pleased with the visit?"

William nodded, ready now to turn the tables on the madam. He’d heard all about Xander’s fascination with Anya this morning. "Why yes he was. Though I don’t believe that the young lady you paired him with was exactly the type of women he’s most interested in either."

"Oh?" Anya tried to keep her voice normal as she felt a small flutter of nervousness.

"Yes, but I do believe there was one girl who caught his eye that he’ll be back to see. He was very smitten with her." William arched an eyebrow as he watched the girl in question flush a bit.

Anya swallowed hard. Did he mean her? Or someone else? Well, flattering as it might be if he was interested in her, he wouldn’t be the first man. And if it wasn’t her, well, she’d just be glad that there wouldn’t be some sort of complication with him, really she would. She glanced at the clock on the mantel. Look at the time, she probably should be leaving now.

"That’s wonderful, Mr. Montgomery. I do hope to see you both back very soon, I’d love for you to become regular customers. My, but it’s getting late, I’d best be off. Buffy, I’ll be back soon to see about Dawn, alright?"

Buffy nodded and rose from the couch as William stood while Anya hastily moved to the door, calling her good-byes. It was nice to see someone throw Anya a little off balance for a change. She gently replaced the much abused pillow and snuck a peek out of the corner of her eye at him. Was he going to leave now as well?

They both stood for a minute, silently gazing at each other before she softly sank back down and he followed. Buffy remained mute, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"Miss Anya’s rather forthright. I take it she’s always like that."

Buffy smiled. "That’s safe to say. She doesn’t really care to beat around the bush about things."

They sat in silence again, watching the other and both were startled when Fred appeared in the doorway.

"Miss Buffy, Mrs. Crawford is here."

Buffy jumped up and smoothed her skirt, running a hand over her hair to make sure there were no stray hairs. William watched the almost unconscious grooming as she readied herself. She glanced over at him and suddenly blanched.

"William, you need to leave, now, before she sees you here!"

He raised an eyebrow at her making little shooing motions with her hands. He was hardly leaving now, this looked as though it was about to get interesting. He motioned with his head and Buffy swiveled to find Lilah standing in the doorway.

"Elizabeth my dear, how are you? And you have a gentleman caller. How nice that you have . . . company. Who is this young man? I don’t believe we’ve been introduced."

Her tone was exceedingly polite with just enough of an undercurrent of innuendo that for a moment he felt as though he’d been caught in flagrante delicitio with Buffy, wrapped in some sort of passionate embrace in the middle of her parlor. He swallowed, not a mental image he needed at the moment, lest he raise Mrs. Crawford’s suspicions even further. He stepped forward as Buffy remained mute.

"You must be Mrs. Crawford. The other Mrs. Crawford was just telling me she was expecting you. I’m William Montgomery, I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your husband and your son, I had no idea I’d missed the true gem of the family."

Lilah smiled at his smooth tone. She’d known exactly who he was, but his flattery was welcomed nonetheless. "Why Mr. Montgomery, what a surprise to find you here with Elizabeth. I was planning to call at your home after visiting with my dear daughter-in-law. I had an invitation to extend to you."

She opened her bag and handed him a small card to a dinner party the Crawfords would be hosting in a few weeks time. She extended a second card to Buffy, who took the card and motioned for Lilah to sit on the couch with her.

"I hope you’ll both be able to attend."

Elizabeth nodded. She hated these things but always felt as though she had to be present when Lilah requested it, least people suspect there had been problems in the family. William watched as she affirmed her attendance, his decision made.

"I’d be delighted to attend as well, Mrs. Crawford."

"Oh, please, you must call me Lilah. Now tell me, how did you meet our little shy violet here, William? She’s been so heartbroken since her Angel died she’s rarely gotten out." Lilah brought a snow-white handkerchief to her eyes and dabbed carefully as she mentioned Angel. "I think Elizabeth will always mourn his memory."

Buffy opened her mouth, looking stricken as she tried to come up with a plausible story. Before she could begin, William was answering the question.

"Miss Elizabeth’s horse apparently got away from her and came into my hands. I learned it was hers and wanted to notify her I had the animal so that she won’t be concerned."

Buffy goggled. That was all technically true, yet incredibly vague and hardly something Lilah could object to, it sounded entirely innocent.

"Well, that was certainly kind of you, William. You must be grateful Elizabeth."

Buffy found her voice. "Yes, it was most kind of Mr. Montgomery to let me know about Gordian. I would hate for anything to happen to him." She tried to switch the subject away from William and his presence. "How have you been, Lilah? Are you in town for long?"

"A few days at most. Just needed to begin arrangements for the party, then I’ll be back to Crawford Place." She looked closely at Buffy. "You’re not coming down with anything are you, dear, you look so pale and washed out. Perhaps you should come out and stay a few days. I know Holland and Parker would be delighted to have your company again and you could help me with the arrangements for the party."

"No, I feel fine, thank you for asking and for the invitation. I really can’t leave Willow at the moment, however."

William watched the negative energy between the women with fascination before he broke the glare the two women were exchanging by standing. "Mrs. Crawford, thank you for the invitation. As I mentioned, I had the honor of meeting your husband just the other day, quite a businessman. I look forward to the occasion." He turned and gave Elizabeth a brief bow. "I’ll take my leave now, thank you for your time, Miss Elizabeth. I’ll make arrangements for the horse tomorrow, as we agreed."

Lilah gathered her skirts as she stood as well. "I hate to not have more time with you dear, but I really must go as well if I’m to finish these calls today."

Buffy thanked them both politely and watched at they walked down the short front path, Lilah laughing throatily at some remark William had made. As she shut the front door and made her way back to the parlor and collapsed on the sofa, her last thought was, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Chapter 8
William entered the dining room and sat down at the solitary table for another dinner alone. He wondered where Xander was. Still working on the final shipment orders no doubt. He was a solid partner to have and had showed an unexpected aptitude for the details of business over the past few months, which had surprised William at first.

Of course Xander had always proven sharp at picking up necessary survival skills since they’d met on that first voyage in the Queen’s Navy. He shuddered. That had been something of a baptism of fire for a shy young boy for sure. No regrets on the choice, it had been worth every day he thought he’d keel over from the pain and exhaustion. When he’d seen the respect in his father’s eyes after returning from that trip, he knew he’d made the right decision to abandon the Cambridge education for a more real world tutorial.

He poured a glass of wine. Those years held a host of memories he’d just as soon not explore, for all he was a better man for them. Best to dwell on more pleasant thoughts, like this afternoon’s encounter with Buffy. Which reminded him that he needed to get in some serious ribbing of Xander. Seemed he had made an impression on Madam Anya after all. She’d acted downright nervous when he’d mentioned the dark-haired man to the otherwise very composed woman.

Anna carried in the first course and William looked at the empty table again. Maybe he’d just eat in the library, have something on a tray. He was about to instruct her when Xander came though the door, grinning from ear to ear.

"Great news Will, I got confirmation Wes’s ship set sail, should be here in a few weeks for sure. And the shipments for today all arrived on schedule, we’re ahead for the month."

William sat up, glad for some company at last. As they worked their way through dinner and discussed some other business concerns, Xander steered the conversation around to more interesting topics.

"So you went back to see her again, didn’t you?"

Will tried to feign innocence. "See who, Xan?"

"You know who, the merry widow who’s been distracting you since you first saw her."

"Oh, that her. Well, yeah, just needed to iron out a few details and such. She’ll be here in the morning, if you want to stick around and meet her." Ready to see his friend squirm, William continued, "And you’ll never guess who was visiting with her when I dropped by this afternoon."

"Who?"

"Madam Anya."

Xander looked up, suddenly interested. "Really? Did she say anything about me?"

"As a matter of fact she did. Even brought you up herself."

Xander’s expression revealed surprise as Will snickered. "What, didn’t think you made an impression on the lady?"

"No, well, I’d hoped, but she was just so dismissive." Xander recovered his equilibrium and pushed for more information. "Enough with the coy, Will, what’d she say? Does she want to see me?"

"Well, she did mention for us to stop by any time."

"No, not like that, not just another customer. Did she want to see me personally?"

William decided he’d had enough fun. "She didn’t come right out and say it, but she got awfully flustered when I hinted you were interested in her personally."

"Flustered as in she’s annoyed at the thought, or flustered as in she might be interested?"

"I thought might be interested. Maybe you could ask Buffy tomorrow."

Xander nodded. "Great idea." He paused, and frowned as he thought it through. "You mean Buffy was receiving Anya at home?"

William nodded.

"Are you sure she’s entirely on the up and up, Will? Not exactly the way things are done around here, I gather. You sure she’s not scamming you somehow about who she is?"

"I made some discreet references this afternoon. Mrs. Crawford is everything she purported to be, a recently widowed member of the plantation elite who now lives very quietly with her cousin and remains in mourning for her dearly departed husband. In fact, from all accounts, she’s quite the perfect lady." He shrugged. "I’m guessing that you and I, my friend, have inadvertently tumbled to Miss Buffy’s one dark secret and I intend to use that knowledge for all it’s worth."

~~~

Buffy found Dawn waiting at the bottom of the steps when she came down early the next morning for the walk to Montgomery’s house. The girl was dressed in Fred’s spare gown, which fit moderately well. It would do until they could finish the garment they had begun for her the day before.

"Good morning, Miss Buffy."

"Morning, Dawn, did you sleep well?"

"Yes ma’am, just a little nervous is all."

Buffy patted her arm, "Don’t be Dawn, everything will be fine." She wondered who she was trying to reassure with her comments, Dawn or herself. She’d slept very little, tossing and turning as she replayed the events of the day before and all that had passed between her and William.

William. It gave her a little thrill just to say his name, even in her head. Anya’s insane suggestions from yesterday had been rolling over and over in her head. Mrs. William Montgomery. Could that really be what he was after?

And why was she even contemplating that? She’d vowed on the day Lilah had appeared before her in hysterics and announced Angel’s death and her freedom that she would never, never tie herself down in that way again. There was no father to direct her marriage this time around, she had enough money to be comfortable, she was surrounded by good friends. There was no reason for her to replace the now meaningless band of gold still residing on her third finger with a real chain.

Except for that other thing Anya had mentioned. You could always consider a discreet arrangement that would be mutually beneficial to you both . . . Montgomery could provide you with some intense physical gratification, if you would allow it . . . you wouldn’t be hurting anyone.

Had she been around Anya and Faith and the other girls who gave no real thought to the men that passed through their bed every night too long? Was she losing all the morals her mother had taught her, that a lady was chaste until married and then faithful to her husband? Of course, she had been those things, before. Would taking a lover be so bad now? Men did it constantly. And who would she hurt? Montgomery was unattached and available, as was she.

She realized Dawn was looking at her rather strangely as she had been musing to herself for several minutes now. She picked up her shawl and draped it around her shoulders. Time to face the music. Probably she’d get over there and Montgomery would be nothing but courteous and professional and she’d see that she’d worked herself into a frenzy over nothing at all.

"Let’s go Dawnie, it’s time to start our new jobs."

~~~

Buffy shut the door behind her as she arrived back in the safety of her home. That had gone very well she thought. The house staff had responded fairly well, she didn’t think there would be any major problems. The poor butler seemed a bit scattered, but polite and she’d given him a recipe for a tea that might soothe his headaches for which he looked eternally grateful. Anna had taken Dawn under her wing and Buffy felt she’d be treated fairly. Cook had found the lamb she needed and was back in fine spirits. The house was large and there was some catch-up to be done to get it back in shape, but she looked forward to the challenge. It was odd to have been raised from childhood to manage a household of that size, yet never have the chance to do so. She found herself oddly excited at the prospect, even if wasn’t really her home.

And things had gone smoothly with William, she thought. She’d been polite and affable, had discussed the household concerns briefly with him, then gently gossiped about the locals in the charming way any lady knew how to do, filling him in on tidbits about his neighbors. She met his partner Xander Harris and had been amused by his not so subtle attempts to probe her for information about Anya. It was quite obvious there was something there and she’d definitely have to have Anya in for tea soon to see where that situation lay.

William had been very appropriate, no innuendo or remarks that seemed out of line, though the intensity of his gaze had made her grow hot a few times. He lingered a few minutes after Xander had taken his leave, in which time she’d managed to bring up Dawn and her concerns about her. And then he’d also departed, insisting on kissing her hand again as he thanked her for her help.

She rubbed her thumb over where his lips had grazed. If it hadn’t been for that last small contact, the soulful way he’d held her eyes, the deliberate manner in which he’d raised her hand to his lips, and the slight wink as he’d stepped away that sent her heart racing at double speed, she’d have thought there was nothing there. But all the concerns from the night before had crashed back over her as he’d walked out the door, making her wonder what was really going on.

Willow bustled down the steps at that moment and Buffy lost herself in the flow of the day, pushing her confusion aside for later private contemplation.

~~~

Dawn blew out a breath as she scoured yet another pot. Anna had been nice this morning, had given her the duties she was assigned, and showed both her and Miss Buffy around the mansion after they’d arrived. Buffy had informed Anna she’d be staying with her for a little longer and arrangements for the proper uniform to match the style of the other staff were made.

And then Dawn had gone to work. It had been hard, she was the first to admit. The sheer enormity of the mansion overwhelmed here, she’d never been in a house this large before. She’d thought Miss Buffy’s home had been the height of luxury until they’d walked through the doors into this place. The ceilings were enormously high, the furnishings so beautiful she was almost afraid to move, lest she break something. But her awe had gradually dissipated as the day had worn on, and the realization that all the fancy rooms required an enormous amount of work to keep up began to sink in. Work she had to do.

Not that she was complaining. She’d been accustomed to chores back in Ireland with her mother, cleaning, feeding the few animals, helping card the wool that would be spun into beautiful cloth. But their simple lives had not required so much upkeep.

However, it was better than the alternative. She still had trouble sleeping at night as she remembered Glory’s voice as she’d found her hovering by the docks, reasonable and kind at first, then more shrill as she’d cackled gleefully over the price she’d bring. Dawn had been poked and prodded in her attempts to establish her virginity and those horrors still remained with her.

But Miss Buffy had said she was safe here and she seemed the kind of lady who would keep her word. She’d said Mr. Montgomery wouldn’t let anything happen to her and Dawn believed her. She rinsed the last pot, carefully dried it and placed it on the hook as Cook had directed. There, all done.

She shook out the voluminous apron she’d swathed herself in for the kitchen work and placed it on the hook by the door. She’d been told she could leave when this was done, now she just had to navigate the short walk back to Miss Buffy’s by herself. Which gave her more than a few tremors at the thought of what might be lurking out there. Just as she was about to leave the kitchen, a man appeared in the doorway.

"Would you be Dawn?" He had a nice voice, with an accent far more familiar than the slow drawls she had found herself surrounded by in Charleston, and a kind smile. This must be Montgomery.

"Yes, sir." She briefly curtseyed as Anna had instructed her to this morning.

He sauntered forward and into the room. "Dawn, I’m William Montgomery, your new employer." He looked her up and down, brows knit as he studied her slight form. "How old are you?"

"S-s-sixteen," she stuttered quickly.

"You’re no more sixteen than I’m sixty. You’re just a little bit. Tell me the truth now."

"Fourteen."

"Dawn, have you finished school, know how to read and do sums?"

She debated lying again, but decided there was no point. Tears started to cloud her eyes, but she stuck her chin out and looked him in the eye. "No sir, but I’m right handy with cleaning and such. I’ll work hard."

William smiled. Buffy had been right, she was a plucky little thing. Certainly had more spirit than he had at her age. It was indeed a shame she hadn’t had the chance for any education. Buffy had commented on how bright and quick the girl was at their meeting this morning, before asking it he’d be willing to walk the chit back to her house at night. She’d batted her big green eyes at him and given him that soft smile while telling him about the girl’s fears and he’d readily agreed to the task, excited that he now had a legitimate reason to see her at night as well.

But he’d have to give some more thought to the idea she’d planted about him sponsoring the girl at school instead of keeping her as a maid. Would be a right charitable thing to do, he supposed, and wouldn’t cost much. And it was likely to get him in better with Buffy he imagined. He’d sound the girl out when he walked her home, see if she was as quick as Buffy claimed.

Dawn was still staring at him with her large eyes, assessing him as he was her. He smiled. "Now, see here little bit, I’m not giving you the boot on your first day. Anna said you’ve worked out just fine. I’m just here to take you to Miss Buffy’s, she asked if I’d walk you over."

A smile lit Dawn’s face as her fears slid away. "I just need to get my cloak sir, and I’m ready."

He produced it from his side and she nodded. "Well, then, I’m ready."

And the two walked into the night.

~~~

"Harmony, could you come in here for a minute, your father and I have something we’d like to discuss with you."

Harmony halted in the hallway and took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. The new plaid she’d convinced her mother to have made up for her from the pattern in the most recent Godey’s Lady Book really suited her well. She tweaked her lace collar, Cordelia would be so jealous.

"Harmony, today young lady."

"Yes mother."

Harmony pushed open the door to the library and took a seat beside her mother, staring expectantly at her parents. She hoped this wouldn’t take long. Cordelia was supposed to be here in a few minutes and they needed to hurry if they were going to make it to the Promenade before the soldiers came by. Her palms grew a little damp as she thought about the letter she’d carefully tucked in her bag to deliver today. She hoped he’d have one for her as well, the last had been so sweet.

She snapped back to attention as her father smiled benevolently at her. "Now, Harmony, you’ve become quite a mature young lady over the last year and now that you’ve finished at Madame Talvande’s, your mother and I have decided that it’s time you were married."

Harmony’s eyes flew wide and she leaned forward eagerly. "Papa, really? Has R…, I mean had someone asked you for my hand?" Her heart beat faster as she thought of a certain pair of broad shoulders and blue eyes. He’d told her how much he longed to speak with her father so that they could be properly wed, but she didn’t realize he would act so swiftly. And strangely her papa didn’t even seem mad. He must have made a good impression.

Her mind raced as she began to consider how long it would be before they could arrange a big church wedding at St. Michael’s. She’d of course have to get a real wedding dress made up, maybe something in a light blue, that always suited her so well. It couldn’t just be any old dress like before, no it needed to be the most beautiful gown Charleston had ever seen. That man the other night at dinner, Montgomery, had told her they’d brought in some new fabrics from France. Maybe she could convince her mother to take her later this afternoon to see about them.

Her father’s voice intruded on her happy daydreams . . . "so we plan to make the announcement in January, post the banns, and hold the wedding in February, when everyone comes to town for the races."

Harmony nodded eagerly. That should be sufficient time to have her dress made and make everyone green with envy. "Papa, that sounds perfect," she beamed.

Her mother touched her arm softly. "Harmony, are you sure you’re happy with this arrangement?"

Her father’s voice carried across the massive desk. "Don’t be silly, of course she’s happy. She’ll have one of the finest houses in town and Montgomery’s going to be one of the city’s leaders in a few years, mark my words. That young man is going places."

Harmony’s head swiveled from her mother’s concerned gaze to her smiling father. "Montgomery?"

"Yes sweetheart, Montgomery, the gentlemen you sat next to at the dinner. He was quite charmed by you."

Harmony stared him in befuddlement. "You want me to marry Montgomery?"

Wilkins shook his head. His youngest had never been that bright, "Yes, my dear, that’s what we’ve been talking about."

Harmony jumped from the sofa and flounced over to her father. "Papa, no, I can’t marry him. He’s, he’s . . . old and British and I don’t even know him."

"Young lady, what you want is not really an issue here. Your mother and I have discussed this and it’s for the best. Now Montgomery and I still have some details to work out, so we won’t make a formal announcement until the first of the year. But he’ll will be calling more frequently so that you may get to know him better over the next month."

Harmony stomped her foot as tears welled in her eyes. "I can’t marry him." She turned on her heel and fled the room. Wilkins looked at his wife.

"Just give her time, Richard, she’ll come around. It was just a bit of a shock, to be told this way. You can hardly expect her to leap for joy that’s she about to be married to a man she’s barely met."

"Well, she better get used to the idea. We have a contract and I don’t intend to lose this connection because Harmony decides to be prissy." He looked thoughtful for a minute. "Do you suppose some other young buck has been sniffing around her?"

Edna May smiled. "Well, Richard, Harmony’s always had a number of suitors, but none that seemed serious, just the usual poems and flowers and such."

Richard snorted. "Well, it’s time she settled down and stopped flitting around. Perhaps we’ve coddled our precious a bit too much. She needs to be more serious, prepare to be a wife and mother and take care of her husband properly. She should be glad we were able to make such an auspicious match for her."

His wife sighed. "I’ll talk to her dear, I’m sure she’ll come around."

~~~

Harmony shaded her eyes as she looked impatiently down the street. Where was Cordelia? As soon as she sighted the brunette, she hurried down the steps and out to meet her friend, throwing up her parasol to shield her milky white skin from the sun.

"Cordy, Cordy!"

Cordelia met her distraught friend. "Harmony, what’s wrong?"

"Oh, it’s horrible, my father just told me he’s arranged for me to be married to some strange old man."

Tears formed in her wide blue eyes. Cordelia looked shocked. "Harmony, does he know?"

The blonde shook her head. "No, I thought at first he’d gone to see my father and formally ask him for my hand, but instead it’s that new Englishman, William Montgomery."

Cordelia gasped. "Harmony, you have to tell him, right away. Surely your father will understand that you’re in love."

"Oh Cordy, do you think so?"

"He has to. After all, he won’t have much of a choice once you tell him you’re already married."

Cordelia shaded her eyes as they strolled along the White Point Gardens. "I think I see them coming Harmony, do dry your eyes, no man wants to see you looking all drippy."

Harmony sniffed and patted delicately with the edge of her handkerchief. "There, do I look better?"

Cordelia looked at her with a critical eye. "Here." She took the handkerchief and gave a few extra dabs to remove the tear stains still on her friend’s face, then gave Harmony’s cheeks a little pinch. "All better, just smile pretty now."

Harmony nodded.

"Do you have your letter ready? You know we won’t be able to talk that long with them before they have to go on."

"Uh-hum, I explained every thing to my Sweetie-poo. He’ll know exactly what to do."

Cordelia admired herself for her restraint at not commenting on Harmony’s odd terms of endearment. "Wonderful, dear. Now perk up, here they are."

The small group of soldiers resplendent in their navy uniforms came to a halt in front of the two girls.

"Good morning ladies, and how are you this fine day?"

"Why Sergeant Graham, we are doing well, and how are you gentlemen? Will you be headed out to work on the fort?"

Graham shook his head. "I’m afraid not Miss Chase. We’ve run out of bricks again. The Captain has run into supply problems, we can’t seem to find a dependable source."

Harmony stepped forward. "Sergeant Graham, where is Lieutenant Finn?" She looked around at the small group as though her beloved might somehow appear.

"Miss Wilkins, I do know the Lieutenant will be sorry to have missed you today." He gave her a small wink, "I know how seeing a pretty lady like you always brightens his day. But he’s been sent upriver by the Captain to see about that new source I mentioned. There’s a plantation owner who has quite a brick-making operation which should give us a steady supply so we can finally get the fort completed."

As he watched Harmony’s face fall and Cordelia put her arm around the crestfallen girl, he stepped closer. "Now Miss Wilkins, don’t look so sad. He’ll be back in a few weeks at most."

Harmony gasped. "A few weeks? I don’t have a few weeks."

Graham looked puzzled and Cordelia motioned him away from the rest of the group that had been standing by.

"Sergeant Graham, it is imperative that we get a message to the Lieutenant as soon as possible." She raised her eyebrows delicately and a look of comprehension crossed Graham’s face. "Oh. Oh. Miss Cordelia, do you have a letter you care for me to pass on?"

"Yes, as soon as you can get it to him. Here Harmony, give me the letter." She grabbed the reticule from the now weeping girl’s hand and dug around until she found the epistle. "Sergeant, the sooner you can get this to him the better. He’s needed here by his family." She raised her eyebrows to emphasize the last word.

Graham nodded in understanding. "Yes ma’am. I know the Lieutenant will be back as soon as possible."

"Thank you Graham. And remember, we need to continue to keep this confidential, for the time."

"Certainly Miss Cordelia, you know you can count on me to maintain this confidence."

"Very well, we’ll let you return to your patrol now."

He nodded and headed back to his men. Cordelia led Harmony off.

"Buck up now dear, you’ve got to be strong. You need this to be done properly and unless you want to tell your father about your elopement without your new husband by your side to support you, you’d best put on a happy face or he’ll suspect something’s wrong."

Harmony nodded and sniffled again as she dug for a fresh handkerchief. "Y-y-you’re r-r-right Cordy. I have to be strong until he comes back. Riley will know what to do."

As Riley had failed to do anything since the secret wedding ceremony during the summer while Harmony had been visiting with her at St. Simon’s Island, Cordelia wasn’t entirely sure she shared Harmony’s confidence in her soldier boy. The squadron headed by Riley had been stationed there for a few months in response to a brief threat from a local slave insurrection, and Cordelia’s father had gladly agreed to house the troops in exchange for the added protection.

Romance had been in the air on those warm, balmy evenings, and Cordelia herself had felt a few small swoons for the handsome young soldiers, but when all was said and done, she’d thought her friend was crazy to actually marry a military man. But Harmony was not to be deterred. They’d managed the secret ceremony without detection, lying about Harmony’s age to the not quite than sober priest who blessed the nuptials.

The honeymoon was cut short by Mr. Wilkins’ unexpected visit to bring her back to Charleston and the pair had begged Cordelia to aid them in hiding the relationship until Riley’s new commission was approved. He insisted the secret marriage would certainly prevent his advancement if known and so the relationship remained clandestine as they awaited the new orders to promote him. While it had been mildly romantic at first, Cordelia was tiring of playing the go between Harmony and her, what was it again, oh yes, Sweetie-poo. Well, it couldn’t go on much longer now. Riley would just have to figure out some way around things.

She patted her friend on the back and took her arm as they progressed down the street, "Yes, dear, I’m sure he’ll make everything alright."

~~~~~~~~~~

Anya looked up from her ledger as she happily balanced the accounts for the month. Business had been brisk of late. She flipped to the next page to continue her entries as a knock at the door broke her concentration.

She looked up with a scowl to see Faith lounging in the doorway. "Yes?"

"Sorry, Anh, I know this is your special time with the books, but your admirer is back."

Anya’s back stiffened perceptibly.

"Well, Faith, go amuse him."

"Anya, believe me, I wouldn’t mind." She grinned. "But he’s not interested. Besides, it’s not working hours for me." She feigned a yawn. "Oh, and he has a picnic basket."

Anya pressed her fingertips to her forehead and suppressed the most unladylike language that threatened to spill from her lips. "Tell him I’m not in."

"Anya, he knows you’re here."

"Well, tell him I am indisposed and cannot see him."

Faith straightened and turned away. "Alright, but Anya?"

"Yes, Faith?"

"How often does a man ask one of us out to lunch, no strings?"

Anya refused to turn around. "Oh there are strings, Faith, they’re just a little more transparent than the ones we’re used to."

Faith shrugged and headed back to the main parlor. "Mr. Harris? I am so sorry, but Madam Anya is rather indisposed at the moment and cannot see you." She actually felt a little twinge as she watched his face fall.

"I really am very sorry. I can give her a message if you like? Or is there anything I can help you with, Xander?" She turned on the seductive purr that seemed effective for most of her customers and slunk a little closer. "I certainly enjoyed getting to know you earlier," she breathed as she sank onto the sofa next to him, a shade too close for propriety.

She was surprised to see the sadness and wait, was that pity in his expression? She nearly flinched as he gently patted the hand that rested on his arm in an almost fraternal gesture.

"That’s very kind of you Faith, and you are a very . . . gifted woman. I just wanted a chance to get to know her, that’s all."

She bit her lip as he rose, picked up the now useless basket, and started for the door before turning back. "Here, would you like some lunch?"

He thrust the gift at her and was out the door before she could blink. She stared as the careful even weaving of the basket and sighed. She’d seen men look at her with desire, with lust of every kind, even with a love sick puppy-like affection. But she’d never had a man look at her with the kind of need she’d just seen on the face of Xander Harris.

Anya was a fool.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Buffy, wait, could I speak with you for a moment?"

Buffy turned from the door that led outside to the kitchen. "Certainly Xander, what can I help you with?"

He looked around for a moment and then motioned towards the dining room. "How about we have some breakfast? This could take a few minutes."

She glanced at the watch pinned to her dress. He was right, she’d in fact been on her way to check on the progress of the meal when Xander had caught her. And William would be joining them soon enough, he was still insistent they breakfast together every morning so she could keep him up to date on how things were running.

She’d thought at first that it had to be a ruse of some sort, but now, more than two weeks later, he remained polite and respectful, and she’d felt herself relax around him a bit. Not that he didn’t give her a look every now and then which made her feel as though he was imagining how she looked without her chemise.

Those looks always brought a blush to her face and, on days when she was more honest with herself, a slight feminine thrill of satisfaction that he seemed to find her attractive in that way. Such contemplation was always followed by the appropriate guilt, but it was still …nice. She sighed as she seated herself. Maybe Anya was right, maybe she really was slipping fast into confirmed old maid-dom despite her marriage to Angel, if a brief glance from a kind man generated such wild imaginings.

"How are you Xander?"

He toyed with the napkin in front of him and started to speak until the door opened smoothly and Dawn entered carrying the first tray of the breakfast dishes.

Buffy observed his anxious demeanor and changed the subject as she watched his eyes flicker to the young girl. Oh dear, what was he going to ask her?

"My but it does look as though we’ll be having rain sometime this week, don’t you think?"

He nodded and continued to make idle chitchat about the prospects of the weather and how that might affect their shipment schedule until Dawn completed carrying in the dishes. Buffy gave her a smile and a nod.

"That will do Dawnie, thank you. Would you care to go to market with me before I leave today?"

Dawn nodded eagerly and dropped the curtsey they’d worked on as she turned and left the room. Buffy turned back to Xander.

"Alright Mr. Harris, now you really have my attention. Why are you so off balance?"

He sighed. "Women, isn’t that always the reason?"

She stifled a giggle. "Well, not in my personal experience, but very well, I’ll help if I can."

He carefully ladled the contents of one steaming bowl onto his plate. "You are friends with Madam Anya? William told me you were close."

Buffy stifled a small smile. She’d suspected this was where he was going.

"Yes, we are, after a fashion. Our lives are very different, but we’ve become friends."

The brown eyes regarded her closely. "Can you tell me more about her?"

"That depends on why you want to know."

He leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that’s a fair question. I would like to get to know her."

"I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that, Mr. Harris."

"Very well. Madam Anya intrigues me. She’s not like other women I’ve encountered. I admire her forthrightness and I also think she’s very beautiful."

Her direct gaze pinned him as she calmly sipped her tea. "Are you looking for a mistress, Xander? Because I can assure you that you’ll get nowhere if that’s your intention. Anya has worked very hard to get where she is and to become a businesswoman. I know she won’t let another man take that away from her."

There was a sharp edge to her voice that made Xander suspect her comments were broader than just Anya, but he was certainly reading the message loud and clear.

"What if I told you that was not my intention Miss Buffy? What if I told you my intentions were of a more honorable persuasion?"

She sat the cup of tea she’d been holding down and leaned forward. "Don’t play games Mr. Harris. Anya’s been a whore on the streets of this city since she was barely fourteen. She’s bedded countless men, including many of the gentlemen you do business with every day. She was fortunate with her last patron who set her up with the brothel, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s not a respectable member of society. Do you really expect me to believe you’d contemplate marriage to someone with a past like that?"

He leaned forward as well. "In fact I would, Mrs. Crawford. What do you know about me?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at him puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you really know about me?"

"Well, you’re William’s business partner, obviously wealthy, you’ve been kind to me . . ." She trailed off. "Very well, point taken. I know very little about you."

"I dress like a gentleman, and may speak like one now, but my roots aren’t that far from where Madam Anya’s are, if you understand what I’m saying, Mrs. Crawford."

She nodded. "Forgive me for presuming then Xander. It’s just, this city can be quite hard on outsiders."

"I’m well aware. That doesn’t change the fact I would like the chance to draw my own conclusions. Perhaps we’ll hate one another. Perhaps not. However, I’ll never know if she won’t see me. And that’s where I need your help."

Buffy regarded him thoughtfully. "Very well. I assume you’ve called on her and run into the no social visits rule?"

"On a few occasions now."

"Would you care to have an early dinner at my home tomorrow night, Mr. Harris?"

His face lit up. "Why yes I would."

"Very well then. And don’t be surprised if there are additional guests."

"I won’t. Thank you Buffy."

"You’re welcome. And don’t disappoint my trust in you here."

"Wouldn’t dream of it." He glanced at the small clock ticking on the mantle. "I’d best be off." He pushed back from the table and started for the door, before pausing briefly. "I assume William is invited as well?"

Buffy swallowed. Having William over as a guest, even as an additional buffer while she played matchmaker was probably a mistake, further blurring the line of this arrangement they had. There was really no polite way to refuse however.

"Of course, I’ll invite him as well when he comes. Have a nice day Xander."

He flashed her a final grin as he exited the door, "You too, Miss Buffy."

William frowned as his partner gave him a thump on the back as he hurried down the hallway. What on earth had gotten into the man at this early hour? He entered the doorway to find Buffy still toying with her food as she waited on him.

"Xander seems quite elated." He peered closely and noticed her flushed cheeks. Surely not. "You wouldn’t have anything to do with that now would you?"

She poured him a cup of tea without meeting his eyes and passed it to him before responding. "I’m afraid I have. I believe you and I are about to play matchmaker."

Chapter 10

"Mate, you’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet if you keep pacing like that."

Xander stopped and glared at the patterned rug beneath his feet.

"Sorry, just nervous."

William watched as he unconsciously resumed pacing, step, step, step, to the window, pause, look out, turn and step, step, step, back towards the fire place.

"Clearly so, why are you so het up over this chit anyway?"

Xander turned, at last finding something to occupy him. "Because she’s beautiful, and smart and independent and I think I want to marry her."

William started to laugh until he realized Xander was not joining in.

"You can’t be serious? You know what she is. You can’t marry a girl like that. Your reputation would be worthless in this town, it’s not like she’s some sort of well-kept secret."

He stood up and clapped a hand on his friend’s back. "Come now, have a fling with her if you want, scratch the itch, but don’t do anything you’ll regret."

Xander turned to him, a cold look on his face as he shook off his best friend’s hand and moved away before replying. "Oh, better I should contract myself out to marry some girl I can’t stand to be around instead of trying to find someone I’d actually want to spend the rest of my life with?"

William stepped back as if Xander’s words had physically struck him.

"I understand what you’re saying Will, and don’t think I don’t appreciate your concern. But I wasn’t raised to care about what people thought. I didn’t come here hell bent on starting a family and some sort of dynasty like you. When I tie the knot, it needs to be for more than connections, a name, or money."

He looked deep into the fireplace. "This . . . thing with Anya, it was unexpected. I know it’s crazy and problematic and not likely to be easy. I know she has a past. But there’s something about her, Will, that makes me want to stop wandering and finally settle down. Cupid’s quite the humorist, isn’t he? A whore’s son falling for a whore?"

He looked away from the fire and met William’s gaze squarely. "Marrying her would be quite a step. I know people would talk. So if I’m going to pursue this, it has to be because I love her, with a soul-deep, burning, consuming love."

William sat down stunned and watched his friend move restlessly to the mantle. "Who knew you were a poet, Xander?"

He snorted. "Hardly. That’s you my friend, don’t think I haven’t seen that stuff in your journal."

"Hey now, what you doing snooping in my journal?" William looked up indignantly.

"Looking for the quarterly reports on your desk. Is effulgent even a word?"

"Yes it is. Bloody hard to rhyme though." William looked at his friend closely. "So do you really love her?"

Xander shrugged. "I don’t know. But there’s a spark there. There’s something and I need to see if it’s mutual. Hence the near stalking and badgering of Buffy to assist in this endeavor."

"And you understand that such a relationship will hurt your reputation here? You can’t make her a lady just by marrying her you know."

"Will, you think I don’t know all of this? I’ve tried and tried to put her out of my mind. I can’t. So I’m prepared to court her, to see where this will lead, and to carry it through to the conclusion."

William nodded. One thing he’d learned about Xander over the years, he was somewhat like a dog with a bone when he seized upon something and not much would change his mind until he determined to let go. Protests would do no good, he could only offer his support now. Perhaps Anya would be as wise as she seemed and discourage his attentions. Or maybe Xander was by far the smarter man.

"Well, you have my best wishes, Xan. I guess you know this won’t be easy, but I’ll support you, if she’s what you want."

"Thank you, that means the world to me. Oh, and Will?"

"Yeah?"

"If you were to ever change your mind about those permits, it’d be okay. I know we’ve invested a lot here, but there are other harbors. Or we can divide the fleet."

William shook his head. "It’s practically a done deal, mate. I’m not worried about it though." He ignored the cold lump that settled in his stomach as he looked around the small sitting room he doubted he’d be able to visit as often once the marriage was carried through. No, he wasn’t worried, just resigned.

Xander looked at him with something akin to pity. "If you say so. Just, if you do, I’ll understand."

A small knock at the door interrupted further conversation as Fred appeared and invited the gentleman to join the ladies in the dining room.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anya looked over at Willow who had a gleeful grin on her face, at the smiling Tara and at Buffy who was trying to avoid eye contact. The invitation to join them for an early dinner had not been that unusual, but there was clearly something afoot here. She seated herself at her usual place and her eyes narrowed.

"Buffy. Why are there two extra places set at the table?"

Buffy swallowed. Maybe making this a surprise dinner party had not been the best idea. But how else would she have convinced Anya to come? She’d have merely ranted and raved about men and their . . . parts . . . and how that was all they thought with, though Anya tended towards more colorful euphemisms to express the sentiment. Which given her chosen profession seemed a logical assumption, but Xander had seemed so sincere. If Anya could only have heard his impassioned plea to her, surely she’d give him a chance.

"Anya, we’re having some additional dinner guests." She paused as she caught the sound of footsteps in the hallway. "And here they are now, so please, be nice."

Anya looked at Willow and Tara and realized the traitors were part and parcel to this deception. The door swung open and to her total lack of surprise revealed William Montgomery and Alexander Harris.

"Good evening ladies, Miss Buffy, Miss Willow, Miss Tara, Miss Anya." William moved to greet the hostess and smirked a little at Buffy’s greater then usual stiffness at him saluting her hand.

Liked to play matchmaker, but clearly was opposed to any attention herself. He sighed. Xander’s words had really struck home. He was selling his soul for a permit, for money and a name. And the prospect of something more was rapidly fading away. He’d learned enough about Buffy as time passed to know his early hopes of enticing her into an improper relationship were never going to come to fruition.

She was in many ways unconventional and flouted society, but she had a very strict code for herself, perhaps because of her other deviations from proper behavior. He knew she would never be his mistress. And he lacked the freedom to offer her the more formal arrangement he wished he could. So he’d have to content himself with her friendship.

His understanding for what his father had faced, being caught between obligations and affection, had grown by leaps and bounds. That thought renewed the lump in his stomach in a way he preferred not to analyze too deeply. Better to try to make the most of what should be a very entertaining evening, if the daggers shooting from Madam Anya’s eyes were any indication.

"Buffy, may I speak to you privately?"

Giving no time for refusal, Anya grabbed her arm and proceeded to pull her into the hallway and down to the recently vacated sitting room.

"What on earth is this?"

Buffy tried for an innocent expression and realized coincidence would not work as an explanation.

"Anya, calm down, it’s just a dinner party."

Anya’s jaw clenched. "Oh yes, a dinner party with a gentleman who I’ve been trying to avoid for weeks now, who shows up with picnics and gifts and wants to go for walks and . . ." She broke down and turned away from Buffy.

"Anya, what’s so wrong with that?"

"Buffy, don’t you understand?" Her face contorted as she fought back her tears. "He’s diabolical. He’s courting me. He’s trying to seduce me by being a gentleman."

Buffy guided her to the sofa and sat her down, patting her gently on the back. "Anya, I don’t understand, why is that bad?"

"Because it can’t be real. He’s, he’s acting as though I’m some sixteen year old schoolgirl he plans to propose marriage to and it hurts. I understand men. They have needs and they are willing to exchange money for a service. It’s all very clear that way. But this, this Xander won’t do that. I told him I wasn’t available the first night he came and he’s been relentless ever since. He merely wants what he can’t have."

Buffy watched Anya’s outpouring with something akin to shock. Did Anya really think that Xander, in spite of all his declarations, still thought of her as nothing more than a piece of forbidden fruit that the pursuit only made sweeter? Did she really think she was so unworthy to be loved? But then, why would she think otherwise? No one ever had.

"Anya, he came to me for help because he’s quite serious. He’s not interested in a liaison with you, he really does want to court you."

Anya sat up and wiped her eyes. "Buffy, men lie."

Buffy laughed. "You think I don’t know that Anya? But they don’t always. He told me things about himself, about his past. He has, well I think he has more insight into things than you give him credit for. Xander Harris sees you as a beautiful, intriguing woman and he wants to get to know you. Is that really so bad?"

Anya blew her nose and shook her head. "No."

Buffy smiled. "So, will you give him a chance? Just a chance. As you say, you know men far better than I do. One misstep and you can consider the experiment over. But it might be worth your while."

Anya studied her carefully sculpted nails. Very ladylike. Very much the way she wanted to be seen. Xander Harris had seemed like every other man she’d been acquainted with when he’d first requested her as a bed partner for the evening. Impressed by her face and figure, sure that she was skilled and could provide a pleasant diversion, but not interested in what was beneath the surface. But then he’d come back, again and again, requesting the simplest of things with no real hint of innuendo. He wasn’t the first to try such tactics, but he was by far the most persistent, despite her rather impressive stonewall tactics. Was it really possible that he actually wanted to get to know her? Not the whore, but the lady inside? Anya looked at her with a tentative hope budding. "Do you really think he could . . . want a real relationship with me?"

"I think it’s possible. But not if you don’t give him a chance. So what’s your answer Anya? I know I shouldn’t have surprised you this way, and if you prefer, I’ll go in and explain to the guests you had to leave."

Anya shook her head slowly. "No. No, I’ll stay for dinner. And we’ll see what happens."

Buffy smiled. "Wonderful. Do you want to go upstairs and freshen up a moment?"

Anya nodded. Buffy rose to leave and return to the guests but was stopped at the door. "Buffy, you do know one day you may have to take the advice you like to give out so well."

"What does that mean Anya?"

"It just means, my dear, that I’m not the only one here tonight who’s caught someone’s eye. But you aren’t giving him a chance either."

Buffy swallowed hard. "That’s not true Anya, I’ve become good friends with Mr. Montgomery."

Anya laughed. "You’ll never be just friends with him Buffy, and the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll both be. Think about taking some of your own advice to heart for once."

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy returned to the room and nodded at the men who had risen at her entrance. She met Xander’s crestfallen face and smiled. "Anya will be here in just a moment. She just needed a moment to freshen up."

She was rather pleased by the hopeful look that filled his face. She hoped she hadn’t read him wrong, that he wouldn’t hurt Anya in some way. For all her tough exterior and brash words, she was rather fragile inside and she was taking a huge risk by even allowing Xander a chance to crack the carefully constructed facade.

She ventured a brief glance at William as she resumed her place at the table. He’d managed to slip in behind her defenses as well, though she wasn’t sure she should ever let him know that. He seemed intent on making her run the gamut of emotions and with every day that passed it grew harder to hide that fact.

And she wished she knew if Anya was correct, if he had some sort of romantic interest in her. He enjoyed her companionship she knew, their breakfasts often stretched into hours of conversation on everything under the sun and he didn’t seem put off by the fact that she was widely read or had opinions on matters. She felt as though she could call him a friend by now and truly mean it.

But beyond that? She didn’t even know what to compare it with, the warm flush his gaze would occasionally send through her and the skip of her heart just from hearing his low tones. She’d found herself wondering at night what it would be like for him to kiss her, to pull her into his arms and caress her lips. She almost couldn’t remember what it had been like to be kissed, it had been so very long. And yet, since their first meeting, aside from the most mild of flirtations that could easily be ascribed to polite banter not to be taken seriously, he’d made no moves that she could clearly define as romantic overtures. He left her thoroughly confused and more than a little frustrated.

She realized she’d been staring at him for some time now as the dinner conversation had begun, a mild chatter on inconsequential matters as they waited to see if Anya would indeed reappear. He turned from the comment he’d just made to Tara and caught her full-on gaze. She flushed, embarrassed to be caught in such a frank stare, and he smiled, then gave her a slow wink. She clenched her jaw. Yes, thoroughly confused.

She turned quickly to Xander to ask about the most banal of topics in order to cover her confusion. She was in way over her head with William Montgomery, and she’d never really learned how to swim.

"Good evening."

The small talk ceased as Anya reappeared in the doorway. All traces of redness were gone and she looked as polished as when she’d first appeared.

She nodded at William and Xander and motioned them to resume their seats as she took the remaining empty chair across from Xander.

"I apologize for earlier. I’m afraid I didn’t realize we’d be joined by two handsome gentlemen such as yourselves."

She focused in on Xander, who seemed to be holding his breath. Buffy hoped he wouldn’t pass out into the soup on the table before them.

"Mr. Harris, I regret that we have not had the chance to get to know each other before now. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?"

He exhaled slowly and smiled. "Miss Anya, I’d be delighted."

~~~~~~~~~~

The chime of the clock startled them all as the meal came to a close.

Anya regretfully turned to Buffy. "I’m sorry to have to leave so soon, the company this evening has far exceeded my expectations." She smiled at Xander, who seemed to have developed a perpetual grin as the evening wore on. "However, duty calls, I need to return before customers begin to arrive."

She glanced across the table to see if the mention of the brothel had brought a look of distaste to her erstwhile suitor’s expression. He met her gaze levelly and didn’t blink.

"May I accompany you home Miss Anya?"

She knew she was the object of intense scrutiny of all those at the table. What was it Buffy had said? Just give him a chance?

"You may, Mr. Harris."

~~~~~~~~~~

The couple of the hour soon departed and the others retired to the parlor, where Tara and Willow made what Buffy felt were rather transparent excuses and left them alone together. Had Anya been talking to them?

She turned to find William comfortably ensconced in the armchair beside the fireplace, watching the glow it cast around the room. He seemed deep in thought as she sat carefully at the edge of the companion seat and joined him in his examination. This wasn’t the first night they’d sat in this manner, he’d often stay for a few moments after walking Dawn home in the evenings, but they were rarely alone, often joined by Willow or Tara or Dawn.

The intimacy of the setting bothered her more than usual tonight. Maybe it was watching the sparks between Anya and Xander, or the careful happiness that Willow and Tara exuded, but she was more aware of her solitary state than usual. And that was likely to make her do something rash and poorly thought out, she was afraid. Better to hurry him along and retire early tonight.

His voice interrupted her machinations. "Buffy, I’ve been thinking about your suggestion for Dawn."

"Really?"

William nodded. "You were quite right, she’s a rather amazing young lady. I only wish I’d had have her enthusiasm at her age. And when she outgrows her coltishness she’ll be quite the beauty, I imagine." He smiled thoughtfully. "I always regretted that I was an only child. She’s something like I imagined a younger sister would have been."

"I know, William. She’s a sweet child and she deserves more than the lot life has cast her. She’s far too bright to be a scullery maid."

"She is exceptionally clever, isn’t she? She’s gotten to where she can give me quite a run for my money at chess you know. And the little minx actually wanted me to wager on the number of games before she could defeat me."

Buffy tried to look appropriately shocked at the idea and failed miserably.

"Did you take her up on it?"

He laughed, "I bet it would take her a month. She’s wagered she can do it in the next seven days."

Buffy smiled. "I bet she’ll win."

"What, don’t think I can hold my own against a little bit like her?"

"We’ll see."

"I suppose we will. I’ll keep you updated. But you were right, Dawn should be in school, not just one of these little grammar schools around here, but a proper school that young ladies go to. What to you call them? Finishing schools?"

Buffy nodded. "You know that won’t be an inexpensive undertaking? Such a school requires more than just the tuition, there are certain clothes to buy and so on. Plus, for a young girl like herself, without family, she’ll need to have someone act as her guardian."

"I know. The money is no issue and I’m willing to be her guardian. But the other, the clothes and what-not, I know nothing about. I think this may have to be another joint venture between us. It was after all, your idea."

He gave her one of those looks that had begun to prove troublesome to her sleep at night and left her rather confused as to what he’d just said, as she’d been rather distracted by the blue in his eyes.

Oh right, her idea. Yes, it had been, but somehow she hadn’t foreseen it leading her to become even further entangled with William Montgomery, at least not consciously. Well, she could certainly do it for Dawn. She ignored the rather sarcastic inner voice that remarked on what a hardship it would be to continue to have to see him so frequently, in an almost quasi-family setting, playing the mother to his adopted daughter, which would of course make her in effect his wife . . .

"I would be happy to assist you William."

He stood up and she ignored the slight feeling of discontent that he seemed ready to leave so quickly now that the business he’d had on his mind was through. So much for the fantasy of a mother and father chatting about their child’s future. She supposed he saw this as more of an extension of her job as his housekeeper. Well, that settled any flutters she’d had. She composed herself as he collected his hat from the small table by the door and was able to smile brightly as he turned to her again.

"Can I leave it to you to investigate what would be the best academy for her to attend? I don’t want her to go to some place where her birth or lack of connections will cause her torment."

She nodded. "The school Willow and I attended in Boston may be the best. Miss Greenlee was a fine teacher and had excellent character. I believe Dawn would be happy there, even though it is rather a distance. I’ll send off a letter tomorrow. May I tell Dawn? It might be best if she begins tutoring with us until time for her to leave, so that she won’t be so behind. And I think she’ll be rather pleased that you’ve agreed to be her guardian. She thinks the world of you, you know. Always chattering about Mr. Montgomery this and that."

He smiled. "Absolutely. In fact, could you bring her round when you come in the morning? I’d like to talk with her. It would be better for her to stay here, I suppose, won’t really be proper for her to stay in my home without a chaperone, will it?"

Buffy shook her head. "No, but she is most welcome to stay here."

"I’d still like to call round for my chess partner in the evenings though, if I may intrude on you?"

"Of course. And I’ll begin looking for a replacement for her on the staff."

"Excellent. It was a lovely evening Buffy. Thank you for your hospitality and your help. You’re rather one of a kind, did you know that?"

For a moment she thought he might be about to say something more, as his hand lifted as though he were about to touch her face. He seemed to catch himself at the last moment and pull away.

"I’ll bid you good night then."

And then he was gone. She sighed. She should be elated. Her dinner had been far more successful than she’d hoped and William was going beyond her wildest dreams in agreeing to become Dawn’s guardian. She would go upstairs and share the good news right away. She knew Dawn’s enthusiasm would brighten her inexplicably dour mood.

She blew out the lamp on the side table and closed the door to the sitting room, letting her eyes linger for a moment only on what she’d come to think of as his chair.

~~~~~~~~~~~

William stood outside the gate and stared at the house. He knew she’d been a bit miffed by his quick departure, not that she’d even admit it to him. He’d watched that little flare in her eyes as he’d moved away and knew she would have been happy for him to stay a little longer, despite her obvious nervousness. But he just couldn’t. Couldn’t sit there and watch the fire highlight the beauty of her face as they danced back and forth with words, when he wanted so much more and knew he couldn’t have it.

Xander’s resolute pursuit almost shamed him. He’d tried to manipulate Buffy from the beginning and he couldn’t seem to stop. Even this thing with Dawn was hardly as altruistic as Buffy had taken it. He did like Dawn, she was a bright and charming girl and he saw reflections of himself at that age in her. He had the money, didn’t begrudge helping her. But it would never have crossed his mind to take this kind of action without knowing how much Buffy had wanted it.

He turned and strode angrily down the street. Buffy, Buffy, Buffy. Ridiculously stupid name. Her with her golden hair and wide eyes and pouty lips, all prim and proper and driving him to bloody distraction. Why couldn’t he put her out of his mind and just move on? She might tease and tantalize him in that sly way of hers, stay in his orbit, flirt just so, but there would never be anything more.

He needed to get her out of his mind once and for all. He was leaving for England in only a few days, the time away would do him good, help him clear his head. Maybe even pay a visit to Drusilla, if she was still around. And by the time he came back to Charleston, the deal with Wilkins would be done, the engagement announced, and he’d be on his way to wedded bliss.

Chapter 11

"Good morning ladies."

William took his seat at the table and noted, with amusement, Dawn’s elated expression.

"Is it really true? Miss Buffy says you’re to be my guardian?"

He nodded. "If you agree of course, little bit."

Dawn bounced from her chair and flung her arms around his neck before her could react. "Mr. Montgomery, thank you so much! Of course I agree. My mother told me when she died that a guardian angel would look over me."

He caught Buffy’s eye as he gently patted the girl on the back and tried to cover his embarrassment. "Alright, well enough of that. We have plans to discuss. Miss Buffy thinks we can turn you into a proper lady with all the trimmings at one of those fancy schools. Would you like that?"

Dawn swallowed as she sat back down. "Yes, I, I think so." She smiled tentatively at Buffy. "Do you really think I could learn to be a lady like you?"

Buffy took her hand and patted it comfortingly. "Of course Dawn. But remember, a true lady is defined by who she is inside and her actions, not how she dresses or where she lives. However, Miss Greenlee’s school can you teach much, about everything from art to science."

"Miss Greenlee’s?" Dawn’s forehead crinkled. "Is that here in town?"

William shook his head. "No, it’s in Boston, Dawn, it’s where Miss Buffy went to school."

Buffy chimed in, "Miss Greenlee is very nice, and you’ll learn languages and mathematics and things you won’t be able to get at the schools here in Charleston, Dawn. I enjoyed my time there. Miss Willow attended as well, you could ask her about it."

Dawn nodded uncertainly. "It sounds very nice." Her voice trailed off as she stared hard at the plate in front of her.

William recognized the look of trepidation on Dawn’s face. He knew that was how he’d looked the summer his father had come for a visit and announced it was time for him to go off to school. He’d been sick several mornings in a row, filled with dread at leaving his mother and the small quiet village for the unknown. And his fears had not been groundless. The school had been the subject of his worst nightmares. He needed to ensure that didn’t happened to Dawn. But at least for now he could distract her.

"Dawn, how about we try to get in one of our chess games this morning? See if you can come any closer to winning that bet?"

She nodded eagerly and followed him into the library where the chess board was set up from their last game.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you really happy about this idea of ours? Be honest with me now, bit."

Dawn maintained her concentration on the chess board as she spoke. "I’m happy that you want to be my guardian. I didn’t like being all alone and I would never have dreamed I would end up in some place this beautiful."

He nodded and moved his rook. "And?"

Dawn regarded him with her large blue eyes. "Do I have to go away? Boston sounds so far."

"It would be a new experience for you."

It seemed that was all she had anymore, new experiences. "I suppose it would be."

She frowned slightly as she moved her knight, not wanting to seem ungrateful. Without meeting his eyes, she asked softly, "Is there no way I could stay here in Charleston? They have schools for ladies here. If I go to Boston, I’ll never see you or Miss Buffy again."

"Dawn, of course you would see us. It would only be for a few years, until you learned all those things that proper ladies are supposed to know to snag a husband and what all."

Dawn responded quickly, her tone growing sulky. "Miss Buffy doesn’t have a husband and neither do Miss Tara or Miss Willow and they’re all ladies."

"Dawn, you know Miss Buffy’s a widow, she’s already been married. Her husband died in an accident and she’s very loyal to his memory."

Dawn watched his face closely. "Why aren’t you married?"

William stumbled a bit. "Uh, well, I, you see, bit, it’s just that . . ."

"Wouldn’t you like to marry Miss Buffy? Then she could almost be like my mother, and she really likes you, I don’t think she’d mind."

He stared at her flabbergasted. "She likes me? Has she . . . said something to that effect?"

Dawn tried to hide the smile that was threatening to burst across her face. She was right! Watching the two of them talk with each other, careful never to betray too much in their gaze until the other turned away and they thought they were safe, she’d developed this elaborate fantasy that Mr. William could marry Miss Buffy and she’d be able to stay with them and be safe. And now it was all falling into place, if they just wouldn’t be stubborn.

She’d had to suppress a snort at the comment that Buffy was loyal to her husband’s memory. There were no pictures of the deceased Mr. Crawford anywhere in the house, no mourning brooches or personal effects. Why, after her own papa had died, her mother had kept the one picture they had under her pillow every night and kissed it before she went to sleep. No, Miss Buffy’s longing looks were reserved for Mr. Montgomery. Now she only had to convince him.

"She said you were a good man."

"She did?" William beamed.

"And she watches you, when you aren’t looking."

His head shot up and pinned Dawn with his eyes. "What?"

"She watches you, but she always blushes if she thinks you’ve noticed and looks away very quickly. And she seems sad when you leave." Dawn hid a smile at the look on his face as he pondered that bit of information. Just then, a knock sounded at the door and Buffy popped her head inside.

"So has Dawn defeated the master yet?"

William turned his head to where she stood in the doorway. "Hardly. However, I’m afraid I’ll have to call a halt to the game. I have to be down at the docks to meet a ship that’s unloading this morning and then I have a rather important lunch meeting with some potential clients."

He stood, picked up the jacket he’d tossed across the back of the chair and shrugged into it. "Dawn, I’ll think about what you said, about staying here, and Miss Buffy and I can discuss it. We can talk about it tonight."

He paused at the doorway, focusing his full attention on Buffy now. "I assume you won’t mind if I call round tonight?"

Dawn watched the pair, noting with some satisfaction that Miss Buffy did indeed seem quite flustered at how close Mr. William was standing. She suppressed a little sigh. They would make such a handsome couple if they’d just stop being pig-headed and open their eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy wished fervently she hadn’t chosen this spot to stop as he moved closer. Her back was to the edge of the door frame and she had nowhere to go, but his proximity was making air a little hard to come by. His eyes danced a little as he smiled, as though he knew what he was doing to her. "Of course, that will be fine. You know you’re always welcome Mr. Montgomery."

He chuckled and gave her a small wink. "Now, now, I though we’d settled that a long time ago pet. William, remember?"

"Of course, William. Dawn and I will look forward to seeing you."

She stumbled just the merest bit as he continued down the hallway and out to the stable, completely missing the small smirk on Dawn’s face as she pretended continued fascination with the chess pieces in front of her.

~~~~~~~~~~

"William, good to see you down here with the working men again."

"Yeah, wanted to double-check the shipment coming in. There’s some delicate goods and we have to be sure they are handled properly."

Clement nodded and spat. "Any chance you’ll be giving up the desk and coming back to sea with us?"

"Matter of fact, I’ll be joining your crew on the run back. Have some contracts to arrange in England that require face to face negotiations, and some family obligations."

"Glad to hear it. Will Harris be coming as well, the crew of the Anne reunited?"

William shook his head. "He’ll have to hold things down here, got those bloody hearings to get all the legalities taken care of so we can add the extra ships."

William watched as another box was lowered gently to the dock, then raced forward as the dockworker lost his hold and started to allow the heavy merchandise to plummet. The man recovered his grip, but the now wildly swinging crate caught William in the shoulder, sending him flying back onto the wooden planks, blood blossoming through the tan of his jacket.

Clement ran to his side as William struggled to sit up and assisted him in standing. "Will, are you alright?"

He shuddered as he touched his tender shoulder. "Yeah, think so." He gingerly pulled the coat away with his good arm as Clement helped him back to the main offices of Montgomery & Harris.

He managed to shrug the layers of cloth away and it became clear that the injury was nothing more serious than a gash from a nail on the corner of the box and some bruising that would be uncomfortable for a while. But his clothes were ruined.

William glanced at the clock ticking on his desk. He was meeting the Vances about becoming their primary shipper at noon for lunch at the Planter’s Hotel. If he hurried, he could change clothes, bandage the shallow cut, which continued to bleed, and rest a bit before he had to meet them.

Clement helped him get the torn garments back in place enough to prevent an indecent display of flesh and he carefully eased up on his horse, glad for once he was left-handed and didn’t have to try to manage the reins with his injured right side.

The horse moved at a smooth clip through the streets and he was home within minutes, tossing the reins to the groom and waving off his assistance. He mounted the rear stairs and gratefully entered his room as he carefully slid the rent garments away from the gash that the recent exertion seemed to have reopened. He stepped closer to the mirror to inspect the cut.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy trotted down the stairs. The upper floor was quite neat, she was pleased that things really seemed to be coming together. She glanced in the various guest rooms as she made her way down the second floor hallway.

William really had an excessive amount of space for just one gentleman. Though he seemed as bad as her about taking in people. She opened the door to the room that she’d instructed prepared for the latest guest. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, now that was quite a mouthful. She checked the linens, straightened a pillow, ran her finger over the chest of drawer. Everything looked good.

She exited into the hallway. That left one more room to look over in her weekly inspection. His bedroom.

She knew she was being silly, that being in that space, looking at that massive four-poster bed, imaging . . .

She stopped, glanced around in embarrassment, cheeks flaming. Bad, bad Buffy. Not having those thoughts again. She’d was just going to make sure everything was proper, then she was taking herself off to the market and possibly down by the docks to see if there were any new arrivals who might be interested in a position as a housemaid. She’d take Dawn with her today, she seemed to have quite an appetite for bargaining with the vendors, a good skill for her to know. Buffy pushed open the door that stood slightly ajar and bit back a silent gasp.

There in front of her stood a mostly naked William. She knew she should turn around, or leave, or at least let alert him to her presence. But she couldn’t seem to do any of those things, just stare as the perfection of his back. The muscled shoulders that tapered to his narrow waist, the ripple and play under the skin. She realized her fingers were curling as she imagined what it would feel like under her hands. She was jolted from her haze by his low groan as she shifted angles and saw what he was studying so intently in the mirror.

"Oh William, you’re bleeding," she gasped and moved towards him before she thought better of it.

He turned, still wincing. "Buffy?"

She made little clucking noises as she pulled the bits of the shirt that still clung to him away, then moved to the dresser and rapidly poured fresh water from the pitcher on his dresser. She grabbed the clean towel and moved back towards him to dab softly at the cut, all the while refusing to meet his eyes as he sat on the bed passively in front of her.

"What did you do to yourself?" she asked as she finished.

He struggled to open his eyes to meet the hazel ones so close to his own. He’d almost drifted off, content to simply let her take care of him, her soft, gentle hand soothing the sore muscles as she patiently nursed him. "Hmmm? Oh, nothing, just a little accident by the docks, got hit while they were unloading a crate."

"Oh." She bit her lip, suddenly aware that she still had one hand cradled at the curve of his neck to steady him, while the other rested lightly on his bruised bicep. And that somewhere along the way his hands had drifted to rest at her waist. She met his gaze again. "I should probably go get something to bandage this."

"Mhmm." And then his lips met hers and Buffy stopped thinking about everything but the feel of the kiss, his hands urging her closer, the sheer pleasure of being touched. Part of her mind was kicking and screaming up a vigorous protest about the propriety of being here with him alone in his bedroom and where that was leading, but his tongue’s gentle teasing of her lower lip as he gained full access to her mouth seemed to quieten even that part of her brain for the moment. She fought the urge to whimper at the loss of his lips as he pulled away. She kept her eyes closed, wanting to prolong the moment for just a moment longer before reality crashed back in.

"Buffy."

His husky tone was barely above a whisper and she tried to pull away as his voice broke the bubble, but his hands held her tight.

"No, love, look at me."

She reluctantly opened her eyes, not sure what she’d find there. And was surprised to observe the same swirling mix of confusing and attraction she knew was written across her face. She could almost see the question in his eyes and she inclined her head just a little.

And then he was kissing her again. This time her urge to resist was all but evaporated by the overwhelming heat of this thing between them and she found herself pulling him closer, her hands burying themselves in his hair as she gave herself over to the electricity of the moment.

Someone moaned and she felt a hand slide upward across her bodice, teasing open the first of the hundred jet buttons that fastened its length. Warning bells sounded again but were silenced as his lips slid from hers and began to explore the now exposed flesh of her throat. She felt her knees weakening as he found a spot under her ear that made her squeak and proceeded to devote an immense amount of time, it seemed to her, to its exploration.

More buttons slipped free and she felt the tip of his finger trace the swell of her breast over the corset. He turned her slowly and began to lower her to the bed, muttering something about the bloody ridiculous number of petticoats. She almost felt as though she were someone else, outside herself somehow, watching this decadent scene as the firmness of the bed supported her back and she found herself gazing up into sky colored eyes that entranced her.

"Oh, my love, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you, to see you spread across this bed in all your beauty, this glorious hair," he began to remove the pins that secured her knot, "spread across my pillow . . ." His mouth captured hers again and she arched against him, as a voice from far away sounded the call to reality.

"Miss Buffy? Miss Buffy? Anna said you were up here."

A wave of hot shame swept over Buffy as she realized what sort of picture she would present to Dawn and the position she’d gotten herself into. How had she let this happen? She shoved at him as he continued to nuzzle her neck, and pushed against his sore arm in her haste to get away. He moved away with a yowl and let her up as she frantically refastened the tiny buttons with shaking fingers and grabbed for the pins to resecure her hair.

"Hey now, what’s this, Buffy . . ."

He reached out to her but she shrugged him off. "Dawn’s coming, put on a shirt," she hissed.

Comprehension dawned for her sudden change in demeanor. He rose and crossed the room , opened the wardrobe and hastily threw it on as she patted her hair, just as a soft knock sounded at the door. "Miss Buffy? Are you in here? Anna said . . . Oh. Mr. William?"

"Dawn."

Buffy turned, still aflutter and William wondered if she realized how flushed she was, her cheeks still rosy, her lips swollen and one button missed.

"Dawn, dear, I heard you calling but I was about to bandage Mr. William here, he had a bit of an accident."

Buffy followed Dawn’s gaze and noticed she was gawking at more than the small cut visible on his upper shoulder. "Mr. William, your shirt."

"Oh right, sorry there bit." He turned and began fastening the buttons.

"Very well Dawn, I believe we’re done here, we shall get our cloaks and be off to the market."

She began to herd the girl towards the door without a backwards glance. William watched the pair through the mirror as he completed fastening his buttons and reached for his jacket.

"Actually, Dawn, could you run get Anna for me quickly before you go? And Miss Buffy, if I might have a word with you."

He watched her stiffen and then she patted Dawn on the shoulder and told her she’d join her in the foyer in a moment. He crossed the room and shut the door behind the departing girl, then turned to Buffy, who was observing the floorboards as though they held the answers to the universe. Gently he raised her chin.

"Buffy, we can’t pretend that didn’t just happen."

"It was a mistake," she whispered.

"It bloody well was not. You wanted that as much as I did, want more still. Buffy didn’t you feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The passion, the heat, the desire? Don’t you know how rare that it?" He leaned forward until his lips were almost brushing her ear and whispered huskily, "Don’t you want to feel it again?"

He felt the shiver run through her as she pulled away hastily and covered her face with her hands, refusing to respond. "William, I, I have to go, Anna will be here any moment and she should not see us like this, it will cause gossip."

He turned her back around and gently slid the one unfastened button into place, then tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "This isn’t over, Buffy. Just so you know that."

He dropped a chaste kiss on her lips and opened the door for her to leave. She gave him one long unfathomable glance and then exited hastily.

Chapter 12

"Dawn? Are you ready?" Buffy fluttered down the stairs, her cheeks still flushed, and took the cloak that Dawn held out for her. She busied herself with fastening the garment and picking up the large basket Dawn had carried from the kitchen.

Dawn eyed her suspiciously. Miss Buffy was rarely flustered, but right now she looked as though she was about to fly to pieces. Her normally perfectly ordered hair had stray wisps that she kept nervously and ineffectively smoothing and her face had a rosy hue.

Dawn smiled to herself. It looked as though the seeds she’d planted had taken root rather quickly. What ever they ‘d been doing in Mr. William’s room had involved more than just bandaging his shoulder. Miss Buffy’s lips were rather red and she kept furtively touching them with her hand, just a little press as though she were completely surprised they were there. Dawn stifled a giggle. Yes, there must have been kissing.

Or course she’d always suspected her hints would fall on fertile ground, they’d just needed a little nudge. Now maybe she could convince them to let her stay here with them here in Charleston. She lost herself in a little daydream of the happy family they could make until Miss Buffy’s voice broke her from her trance.

"Dawn? Are you coming?"

"Yes, Miss Buffy!" Dawn followed happily behind her, unable to resist a little skip in her step as they headed towards the City Market.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy added the vegetables she had selected to the basket and counted out the coins to pay the vendor.

"Dawn, I think that will do. Do you suppose we have time to make our way down to the docks before we take these back? We need to find someone soon to replace you and help Anna."

"I think so." Dawn’s face lit up. "Could we go and see Mr. William? He told me that he and Mr. Xander have their office down there."

Buffy blanched. She really wasn’t ready to face him. She’d firmly pushed the events of this morning to the back of her mind and didn’t plan to take them back out for examination until she was alone.

"Well, that might not be the best idea, Dawn, we don’t want to bother him while he’s working. Oh, and he had a luncheon, he probably won’t be there."

Buffy paused indecisively at the street corner where they needed to turn. This was a bad idea. What if they ran into him? They should just go home. She could always come back tomorrow and see if there were any new ships coming in.

Dawn shifted her basket to the other arm and tugged at Buffy’s sleeve.

"We don’t have to bother him. I just wanted to see what his office was like."

Buffy had to admit to a secret desire to see that herself. And it was rare she’d have any type of acceptable excuse for being down at the docks again. Perhaps seeing him in a more formal setting rather than the intimacy of her parlor tonight would be better. It would be very appropriate and there would be no chances for touching or kissing or any of those wonderful frightening things that made her heart race and her head spin until she wasn’t quite sure what to do.

She took a deep breath and turned towards the harbor. "Very well, we’ll pop in and visit a moment if we see we won’t bother him."

Dawn looked around wide eyed as they moved away from the town center, taking in the bustle of activity and kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that filled the area.

"Dawn, dear, don’t gawk so." Dawn clamped her mouth shut as they entered the harbor master’s office.

"Good afternoon Mr. Snyder, how are you today?"

The small beady eyed-man turned. "Mrs. Crawford. What brings you here?"

Ignoring the tone of disapproval, Buffy smiled sweetly, "I wish to see if any new passenger ships have come in. I’m trying to find a good Irish girl to be domestic help."

Snyder raised a brow. "Why don’t you just head down to the market, Mrs. Crawford? I’m sure you could find a strapping young girl there."

Buffy gritted her teeth and kept her smile firmly in place. "I’m sure I could, Mr. Snyder, but I was still hoping to know about the ships coming in today."

He harrumphed loudly and checked the list in front of him. "Try the Seafarer, docked down that way." He gestured further down the docks. "She was coming from Dublin, likely might still have a few lost souls milling about."

"Thank you Mr. Snyder, and please give my regards to your wife. I’ll see her at the next Ladies’ Charity Circle."

"I will indeed. You know, Mrs. Snyder was just speaking of you the other night. About how it was high time you found yourself a new husband. A young woman like yourself needs a man to take care of her, manage her affairs. I know your father would have wanted that. And you’re still young enough, haven't lost your looks, you could find a husband right quick. Why I know that Mr. Owens is looking for a new wife. I’m sure you heard about his wife passing with the sickness last year and all those young ones that need a mother. Mrs. Snyder was commenting on what a fine match you would make."

Buffy cringed internally. Mr. Owens had five children and had been hunting for a wife before his own was cold in the grave. She’d have to avoid Mrs. Snyder at the next Circle.

"That is so thoughtful of you both to be looking out for my welfare Mr. Snyder, but, alas," she laid her hand dramatically over her heart, "I still miss my Angel so. I just need a bit more time before I can consider matrimony again." She ignored his snort and headed back into the sunlight.

Dawn trailed along after her. "He’s not very nice is he?"

Buffy sighed. "No, he never has been, but he was a friend of my father’s. I knew he’d give us what we needed to know."

"Did you mean that? What you told him about not being ready to marry again?"

Buffy shot her a sharp look. "After a fashion."

She shaded her eyes and peered down the dock past the scattered sailors and dock workers busily unloading ships, changing the subject. "Now, let’s see if there are any likely candidates. It looks as though they may have already started disembarking."

Dawn followed happily along, breathing in the tangy air from the harbor and distracted for the time. They had almost reached the point where passengers were milling around the dock when Dawn noticed a woman garbed almost entirely in vibrant red with auburn curls. She froze.

"Miss Buffy?" She grabbed the older woman’s sleeve. "Miss Buffy, stop, please it’s her," she whispered.

Buffy stopped. "Who, Dawn?"

"Glory."

As though she’d heard the whispered name, the woman turned and moved in their direction, eyes narrowing as she drew closer.

"Hey, little girl, I know you." She moved swiftly and grabbed Dawn’s arm, her two menacing flunkies trailing behind. Buffy stepped between them, outraged at her impudence, and pushed Glory’s hand away from Dawn’s arm, making herself a barrier for the now quaking girl.

"I don’t believe you know this young lady, you must be mistaken. Now, if you’ll excuse us." She turned, keeping herself between Dawn and the despicable creature and began to walk towards the entrance of the harbor area.

Glory followed, "Hardly, Mrs. Crawford. I know who you both are."

Buffy froze, icy tendrils crawling up her back as Glory continued. "I was . . . well-acquainted with your dearly departed. He was," she laughed harshly, "quite the angel, wasn’t he?"

Her eyes flickered over the obvious mourning grab. "Aw, now that is so very precious, that you, the grieving widow, are so faithful. I’m sure he’d appreciate knowing his frigid little wife was still clinging to his memory."

She was stunned by the venom of the whore’s voice and the hatred rose up like bile in her throat at this unwelcome intrusion. Buffy bit her lip and turned, knowing that she should just keep walking away, and not react to Glory’s voice and the wash of memories she’d thought she’d put behind her. But she couldn’t seem to move away.

Glory stepped forward, seeing her hesitation, like a cat playing with its mouse, and addressed Dawn, cowering behind her. "As for you little girl, you cost me a heap of cash. And I still have the bill you and your mother owed for your passage. Remember that? How I paid it off for you and you said you would come and work for me? We had a deal, and don’t think I take that lightly."

Her voice trembling, Dawn managed to choke out, " I, I didn’t know, I thought you wanted a maid."

Glory threw back her head and laughed. "A maid? Oh that is just too much. No, small one, I had a very special customer who was most excited at the prospect of meeting you and your . . . untried charms. And I imagine will be again."

"No, you can’t do that, Mr. Montgomery won’t let you, will he Miss Buffy?"

Buffy cringed as she realized what Dawn had just revealed, snapped out of her daze and stepped between them again.

"No. I won’t let you. You may send me the bill for the passage over and I’ll pay it in full and with interest. That will release her from any obligation, real or imagined, she might have to you. Now, come Dawn, we’ll not let this trash insult us further."


"So the new man about town has already made her his playmate has he? Or has he already cast you off to Miss Buffy here?" She winked. "I’ve heard about your ‘rescue’ efforts, dear. You’d best not come near any of my girls. They hardly need your help."

Buffy gritted her teeth and continued walking away, murmuring, "Just ignore her Dawn."

Glory chuckled and called after them,"You’d better be good for the debt Mrs. Crawford. Because if not? Well, there’ll be hell to pay. C’mon boys. Let's go."

Buffy refused to look back as she continued to put distance between them, herding Dawn as quickly as she could. The ramifications of what had just happened were ricocheting through her mind, the thousand of ripple effects of just those few words. It took so little to get gossip started in this town and while Glory was hardly a trustworthy source, she had connections and could plant rumors.

Buffy smoothed Dawn’s hair and noted the girl was still shaking like a leaf, though her eyes were grateful as she clung to her arm. "It’s alright now Dawnie, it’s alright. She won’t be a threat to you anymore."

But she knew that wasn’t entirely true. She needed to speak with William about what had just happened, because something would need to be done. "Let’s go see those offices, okay? Perhaps you could use a little rest."

Dawn nodded gratefully as they headed for Montgomery & Harris. Buffy steered Dawn around the back of the alley and knocked at the door. Glory seeing them here would only feed the fires of suspicion.

~~~~~~~~~~

"We weren’t expecting . . . Miss Buffy? Dawn? Are you alright?" Xander pushed the door open wider to admit them and helped Buffy seat the shivering girl in a chair.

"Xander, do you have any water?"

He nodded and fetched a small glass for the girl as Buffy looked around. The office was small, the front, where she imagined a clerk might be, was divided from the rear office that William and Xander appeared to share. Two matching mahogany desks faced each other, piled high with snowy papers, with a small table to the side with a few chairs. She joined Dawn there, glad to let her trembling legs rest.

Confusion. There was no other word for it. Glory’s threat could be so harmful, to Dawn and to William. If the rumor was to get out that there was some sort of inappropriate relationship there . . . maybe she should keep Dawn with her. It would be cramped. But of course, even if she did, the rumors of Dawn’s origins and arrivals in the city would still likely follow if she tried to send her to school here.

Xander’s words finally broke through her haze. "Miss Buffy? Do you want me to take the two of you home?" He patted Dawn’s hand and poured her another drink of water as he waited for Buffy’s response.

"Will it inconvenience you terribly? I think an escort might be a good idea," she said gratefully.

"Not at all."

She hesitated for a moment, "Will Mr. Montgomery be back soon? I’m afraid we’ll need to speak about Dawn. Something has happened."

Xander shrugged into his coat. "So I gathered. It’s not everyday two damsels in distress have to take refuge in my office. Anything I can help with?"

Buffy smiled wryly. "Perhaps so Xander. I’ll explain when we reach the house."

~~~~~~~~~~

William entered the office and sat down heavily. The lunch had gone well, the Vance family looked as though they were strongly interested in making them their primary shippers. But his shoulder still ached and . . . she wouldn’t leave him alone. This game, this dance back and forth between Buffy and him had gone on long enough. And tonight he was going to confront her about it.

He leaned back and closing his eyes, remembered the events of the morning as a small smile graced his face. The sound of the door opening startled him from his thoughts as Xander entered the room.

"Will, you’re back. How were things?"

"Good. They’ve decided to ship with us for next year’s crop."

"That’s excellent." He nervously picked up the paperweight off his partner’s desk and turned it over in his hand. "Will, something happened today. You need to go see Buffy right away."

He sat upright and stared. She’d gone and talked to Xander? "What did she say happened?"

Xander shook his head slowly. "It’s that Glory woman."

Glory? Now he was confused. Who was Glory again? And what did she have to do with anything?

At Will’s continued puzzled expression, Xander pressed on. "The woman who was after Dawn. Buffy brought Dawn with her today, they came down to see if they could find someone new for the staff. Glory spotted them, and she threatened Dawn. Turns out she’d paid off a debt for her passage and wanted her to work it off."

William leaned forward. "Are they okay? They weren’t harmed were they?"

Xander shook his head. "Don’t worry, they’re fine, physically. Buffy told her she’d pay off anything Dawn owed and that seemed to satisfy her. Dawn’s very shaken up. But Buffy thinks there may be another problem."

"What’s that?’

"Dawn mentioned you, that you would take care of her, and Glory . . . well, she assumed that you were taking care of her."

William stared at him for a moment and then the realization hit him. "She’s still just a young girl Xander!"

"Yes, she is. And you and I both know that wouldn’t stop some men. Buffy is concerned that it would be inappropriate for Dawn to stay with you right now."

"But I would never . . . she knows that . . ."

"Will, relax. She’s only worried about what people would say. Go talk to her, I think they both need to see you."

William levered himself from the chair and pulled on his coat. "They are at Buffy’s?"

Xander nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~

Knock, knock, knock.

Fred appeared at the door. "Mr. William, I’m so glad you’re here. Everything’s such a mess."

He entered the parlor to find the scene of a man’s worse nightmare. Dawn was crying, Buffy was red-eyed and Willow and Tara were fluttering around like the little doves they were, trying to soothe everyone. Buffy saw him and blushed, then put on that firm look that usually meant she was going to make him agree to something he had no intention of agreeing to.

As the others noticed her attention had shifted, the room grew quiet. "Dawn, go with Tara upstairs, Mr. William and I have to talk. And Willow, could you stay here please."

He patted the girl awkwardly on the shoulder as she left, still ill at ease with the sheer level of femininity and emotions as they swept by him. As soon as the door was closed, she motioned him to his usual seat by the fire and remained firmly planted on the distant sofa, Willow perched by her side. The defenses did not go unnoticed.

"Buffy, what is going on here?"

She gave him the succinct facts, including all her fears. "William, I thought perhaps we could keep Dawn here for a time, but the best thing will be if she can simply leave. By the time she’s finished her schooling, no one will remember, least of all Glory. But to put her in school here now would create talk which might reflect negatively on both you and her."

William stared into the fire and tried to compose himself before responding. He hated the thought that Dawn would face stares and gossip, much as he had, over something so groundless. Yet he knew Buffy was undoubtedly quite right. But the little bit had seemed so afraid of being left alone again.

"Buffy are you sure this is the right thing?"

She nodded. "Xander said that you’re leaving for England day after tomorrow on the Anne. And that it will call in Boston on the return voyage. If you take her with you, by the time you come back, my letter will have reached Miss Greenlee in Boston."

He blanched. "Buffy I’m fairly certain that taking Dawn with me to England would only create more talk."

"Willow and Tara have agreed to accompany as chaperones."

He looked at Willow, who was nodding her agreement beside Buffy. Well. That had maneuvered him into a corner nicely. This required some thought.

He paced over to the window and watched the quiet street for a few moments, trying to wrap his mind around the mess. It had seemed such a simple thing this morning, pay for Dawn’s education, do a good turn for the girl. No real strings. Except for her. He glanced over his shoulder at the blond head that was murmuring to Willow. Part of his mind rebelled that he’d ever gotten caught in such a quagmire. And yet, the look of gratitude on the bit’s face this morning, and the admiration in Buffy’s eyes when he’d agreed to help somehow made it worthwhile. It had been many years since he’d had anyone look at him that way, not since his mother in fact. She thought him a good man. Perhaps he owed it to her to try to act like one. And perhaps this was the opening he needed to build on this morning’s encounter. He strode back to his seat, mind set.

"Miss Willow, would you give Miss Buffy and myself a moment in private?"

Willow looked at Buffy who was glaring at her, then at William’s pleading expression.

"I’ll just be out in the hallway."

"Willow! No," Buffy gasped.

Willow looked at her and sighed heavily, then sat back down and gave William a small smile by way of apology.

"If you feel this is best, I’ll be happy to take her. But Buffy, Dawn seems quite attached to you. I know she’d feel more relieved if you were with her. Why don’t you came as well?"

She refused to meet his eyes. "I’m sorry William, I don’t think that would be possible, right now. I have obligations here, I couldn’t possibly leave on such short notice."

He refrained from arguing over her rather thin excuse and accepted defeat for the moment. "Very well. Miss Willow, I’m grateful you and Miss Tara are willing to make this trip with us. We’ll do our best to make you comfortable. The Anne is a cargo ship, but we have a few cabins that should serve."

He addressed Buffy once again. "Will you ready the things Dawn will need? I’ll need to go make some arrangements and inform the crew. I’ll be staying with my brother while we’re in London, so there should be sufficient accommodations there for everyone. And I’ll take care of the debt owed, don’t trouble yourself about that."

He gave a swift nod and left the room.

Willow turned to her cousin, disapproval evident on her face. "Buffy, what has happened? I’ve never seen you act the way with William before. You were almost cold with him. And he’s being quite kind to help in this matter, he could easily just walk away."


"Willow, it’s nothing."

"Buffy, it’s clearly not. Have you two had a lover’s quarrel?"

"A what?" She laughed nervously. "Willow, that’s ridiculous, and impossible. We haven’t quarreled."

"And the other?"

"Of course not, we’re not lovers. Willow, he’s a kind man, and I count him a friend, but there’s nothing more than that. I just wanted to be clear with him."

"Buffy, your ears have turned pink, I know you’re lying. It’s alright you know, if you do. And if you and Mr. William have been . . . hasty in your affections, well, I’m hardly one to throw stones."

"Willow! What on earth would make you think that?"

She reached and patted her cousin’s arm. "Buffy, I know you haven’t had an easy time. But there are good men out there. Daniel was one. I think William is as well. He looks at you with love in his eyes. And I think you look at him the same way as well. You need to talk to him, Buffy."

She stood and pulled the stunned Buffy from the sofa. "Come now, we have some packing to do."

Disclaimers: The usual - not mine, fun not profit.

Thanks for all the great feedback - much appreciated!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 13

He poured a glass of whiskey and sat down, turning the events of the day over and over in his head. He couldn’t let it go. He was well and truly buggered by that infuriating, demanding, fiery slip of a woman who’d managed to wrap him round her finger without him noticing until it was too late.

That first morning with her, when she’d demanded they formalize matters, so as to not, how had she put it? Oh right, besmirch her good name. He should have known right then she was trouble. He should have been even more worried that he’d acquiesced to her demands.

He pulled at the drawer to his desk and studied the careful handwriting as he poured another drink. He’d given in then and it had all been downhill from there. William, you must do this. William, I think perhaps this would be best. She’d bat those big eyes at him and he’d agree.

But now. Now things were different. He’d felt it from the moment she’d touched him this morning, the small tremble in her fingers as she’d handled him softly, the way her breath had hitched in her throat just as their lips met. He’d spent so long thinking she would never return any sort of physical affection that she’d almost caught him off guard when she’d responded hungrily to that first tentative kiss.

If they hadn’t been interrupted, he wasn’t sure she would have stopped him at all. Would have continued to let him unwrap the layers that separated them and love her into oblivion. But now the prim act was firmly back in place and she was shutting him out again.

He knew he’d likely regret it in the morning, but he poured a third drink and swallowed it down as his indignation grew. How dare she act as though nothing had happened between them and he was just some acquaintance? Did she think he’d just waltz out of town and forget about everything?

Well, she’d be dead wrong if she thought he was going to let that happen. In fact, he was going to settle this tonight. He grabbed his coat and headed out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Anya, everything’s fine. You can go back, I know this is your busy time."

"Are you positive Buffy? Glory can’t threaten Dawn that way." Anya punched her fist into the air. "That no-good two-bit whore needs a lesson."

Buffy stifled a laugh. If nothing else, Anya’s straightforwardness was refreshing, especially after this day. "Anya, I think this will be for the best. We were already planning to send Dawn away to school. This will just give her a little bit of an unexpected European tour before she starts her education."

Anya perked up. "We?"

Buffy realized the error as soon as it left her mouth. "William, or course, William decided because he’s agreed to be her guardian."

"So how are things with William? Willow said you were flustered by him this afternoon."

Buffy briefly considered if strangling Willow would be unladylike. "Not flustered Anya, it was just the situation was disconcerting. And I really don’t think I can go to England with them."

Anya scrutinized her closely. "Buffy, I know that sometimes I shock you and that we will likely always disagree about . . . certain things and their propriety. But William could make you happy. You do much for so many people Buffy. You deserve something for yourself."

Buffy laughed nervously. " Well, thank you Anya, I think there was a compliment buried in there."

"There was, and a well-deserved one. But, Buffy, what I’m trying to say is that love comes in many forms. And it may not always be the conventional way you expect it. But it’s so rare to find, you shouldn’t turn it down when it comes along." She leaned closer. "Do you understand what I’m saying? "

"Yes, Anya. I do."

"Very well, I’ll be off then, please keep me informed as to what’s happening, alright?"

"I will."

Buffy locked the door behind her friend as she disappeared into the night, and heaved a sigh as she picked up the lit lamp and slowly mounted the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

He glanced at his pocket watch, his head clearing in the cold night air. Perhaps he should have checked the time before he stormed over. It was quite late and the house seemed quiet, probably everyone was abed. He glanced at the darkened windows and circled to the side. One lone light flickered in the bedroom at the corner of the second floor.

Her room. It must be. He remembered the comment she’d made about how she could never be a late sleeper because of how the sunrise illuminated her room each morning, when he’d teased her about her cheerful morning attitude each day. So that would be hers, and she was still awake. He studied the railing leading to the porch that ran the length of the second floor. He could easily climb that, even with a bum shoulder. Hefting himself up, he began to scale the post.

~~~~~~~~~~

She sat in front of the dresser mirror and reached for the brush. It had been a draining day, and what she wanted most of all right now was sleep. She pulled the pins from her hair and began the nightly routine of one hundred strokes before she could braid the long tresses, climb under the covers and just let today go.

Or not. As she continued to brush, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

You should talk to him, Buffy.

Yes she should. Yes, Willow was right, Yes, there were things that needed to be said. But where did she begin? Did she apologize to him for what happened?

But was she really sorry? Would allowing him to court her be so wrong? This wasn’t the same as it had been with Angel. She’d seen this man daily for weeks now, had watched him with others. He was no Angel, for which she was grateful.

It’s so rare to find, you shouldn’t turn it down what it comes along.

Those kisses. She shook her head at the woman in the mirror. Those kisses had taken her breath away. And made her ache for more. She touched her throat, remembering the feel of his lips on her flesh and the things he’d murmured about passion and desire. Could it really be that way for her? To have someone touch her in love? To value her pleasure as much as his own, to want her for more than a receptacle, a way to satisfy obligations and duties?

Was it possible for a woman like her to accept that kind of affection? Did it make her a whore and a trollop to give in to base desires, to ache for what he’d offered? Or was it natural?

She picked up the brush and attacked her hair again. These were the times she missed her mother the most. Her sweet, gentle paragon of a mother who was gone too soon, before she could answer these questions. She had been left with two extremes. The rather stilted advice of her father’s maiden sister the night before her wedding with Angel, a rather terse speech about the duty of women to endure. Which she had done, over and over again, until the obligation was gone. And the more frank comments of ladies who worked at one of the most notorious cathouses in the city, which she had yet to follow.

Which brought her to this thing. This wonderful, wild, passion that swelled her heart. It didn’t feel like the marital rights she’d owed her husband. Not like duty, or obligation or necessity. It felt like love. Or possibly lust. She buried her face in her hands. Why had she ever let him in? Why had she ever opened the door to this madness? And how was she to find the answers?

Would time reveal the solution? Had she’d been too harsh this afternoon? Perhaps the sea voyage would be appropriate, as a way to examine this thing between them and reach some conclusion once and for all.

She smiled as she finished the last stroke and laid down the brush. Yes, that could be very nice. She lost herself in a daydream of strolling around the deck, William at her side as they watched moonlight across the water and he turned her for a gentle kiss that sent tingles up and down her spine.

A light tapping at the window that led to the porch outside startled her from her fancy and she whirled around as his whisper drifted across to her.

"Buffy?"

She grabbed the lamp as she crept across the room.

"William? Is that you?"

"Yes, let me in."

Her hand flew to her mouth, thoughts of genteel moonlight strolls forgotten. Of all the audacity, what on earth was he doing outside her room in the middle of the night?

"How did you get up here?"

"Climbed. Be a dear and open the window, think I might have pulled my bandage loose and started bleeding again."

She opened the window and watched as he clambered through.

"Thank you." He stood and rotated his shoulder. "Look at that," he said with a bit of a smirk, "I do believe it’s fine."

She raised her hand but he headed her off before she could complete the slap.

"Now, now, let’s have none of that. I told you this wasn’t over Buffy. If you won’t talk to me during the day, you’ll talk to me now."

She gave him a blazing look and marched back across the room, putting as much distance between them as possible, clearly still fuming at his nerve.

William took a moment to study her as she paced away and his breath caught. With her hair falling in sheets around her body, garbed in the white shift he doubted she realized the lamplight served to illuminate, she was a sparkling thing, more beautiful than he’d ever seen her. Damn near made him want to spout poetry. He stifled the urge for the moment, but followed her, like a moth drawn to the flame.

"Buffy, I only came to talk. We can’t ignore what happened."

She whirled around, fury personified. William briefly contemplated whether the Romeo approach might have been a mistake.

"Why not William? Things were fine before this morning. What happened was an, an accident. I felt sorry for you, because you were hurt . . . and . . ."

He stepped closer. "And you wanted to kiss it and make it all better?"

~~~~~~~~~~

She shivered at the sound of his voice. She couldn’t think with him so close and distracting. Granted, she’d been confused before he arrived, but late night visits to her bedroom had not been part of the equation. With her in her nightdress. And him looking at her with those smoldering eyes. She gathered her resolve and backed away, grabbing her wrapper and hastily donning it like a shield.

"William, no, I just . . ."

A knock at the door caused them both to freeze.

"Buffy, is everything alright?"

Buffy grabbed William’s arm and dragged him behind the door before opening it a crack.

"Everything’s fine Willow. Just fine."

"Are you sure, I thought I heard you talking to someone. Is Dawn in there?"

She could almost feel William’s smirk. "No, no, no Dawn. Just me. Talking to myself. Reading, actually, I was reading and it was so exciting, I just had to read it aloud."

Willow eyed her suspiciously through the narrow opening. "Buffy, do you feel well? You look a little fevered. I know there was quite a bit going on today. Perhaps you should try getting some sleep?"

Buffy nodded vehemently. "You are absolutely right Willow. I’m going to close that book and go straight to bed. I’ll be fine in the morning. Sleep well. Big day tomorrow and all.

"You too, Buffy."

She shut the door firmly and gave William a warning glance to stay silent until they heard the door down the hallway shut behind Willow.

"Straight to bed, eh? Why Miss Buffy, you only had to ask."

He laughed as she made a second attempt to slap him.

~~~~~~~~~~

A drowsy Tara opened one eye as Willow shed her wrapper and slid back into the bed.

"Was Buffy alright?"

"She said she was."

"Was William in there?"

"I’m fairly certain. She was very twitchy."

"Did she seem upset?"

Willow giggled. "Actually, she looked better than she has in a long time. Very animated. Perhaps he’ll be able to talk some sense in to her."

Tara snuggled closer. "Hope so. "

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy flounced back to her dressing table with William at her heels. He kept his voice low, but no less urgent.

"Buffy I meant it when I said I came here to talk with you tonight. There are things that need to be settled and ignoring them doesn’t make them go away. I don’t want to leave without some sort of understanding between us."

"You only want to talk?"

"Of course."

She glanced at him reflected behind her and watched as he reached his hand for the brush she’d left on the table.

"Will you just listen to me?"

Listening had never hurt anything, had it? She nodded slowly as he began to languidly draw the brush through her hair. Alright, that was a bit more than just talking, but the smooth strokes were already causing a melting warmth to seep through to her very bones.

Why she hadn’t kicked up a fuss and revealed him when Willow appeared she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge to herself, but she’d known as soon as the fib had passed her lips that she was going to hear him out. Wanted to hear him out. Wanted him to convince her that this would be alright.

He seemed to be searching for the right words, so she closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle strokes as he brushed, shutting off any inner protests as to what was happening.

Finally, when she’d been lulled almost to sleep by the leisurely grooming, he seemed to find his voice.

"I’ve wanted to see your hair down like this since the first moment I saw you, standing in the alley outside Anya’s door. It’s like golden wheat, and," he lifted a lock to his cheek as she opened her eyes, "as soft as the finest silk."

She was captivated by the sorcery of his voice as it flowed around her like warm honey.

"Do you have any idea how exquisite you are Buffy? How other women pale in comparison? You’ve bewitched me and I’m under your spell. Don’t send me away, dearest. Let me stay with you tonight. Let me love you."

Could he really be so captivated by her, to think she was that special? But, she had to admit it was oh so beautiful to hear it fall from his lips. Fragments floated back to her, Anya telling her to not let this slip away, Willow telling her that he looked at her with love in his eyes. The way he was looking at her now. This was so very wrong, but she couldn’t bring her head to move or her lips to open to tell him to leave. Because deep down she knew she didn’t want to. Knew that what she truly desired was to understand the magic she’d tasted this morning in his arms.

He quietly replaced the brush and turned her around until she faced him. As he knelt before her, she caught her breath at the naked want on his face. It was clear even in the half-light of the flickering lamp that had begun to burn down. He raised one of her hands and turned it palm up before placing a kiss at its center, then deliberately repeated the gesture again on the other hand.

She raised one hand slowly to his face and ran her finger along his cheekbone, sharp as a blade, yet smooth beneath her skin, knowing then that she was lost. He closed his eyes as she continued her exploration, using both hands as she memorized the map of his face. He began to softly quote, the planes of his face shifting as he spoke:

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

He opened his eyes and she gasped as he swept her up into his arms and carried her towards the bed, his voice low and hoarse with desire as he sat her down.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

Her breath felt as though it were nonexistent as she watched him quickly shrug away his coat and vest, then work the buttons of his shirt to leave him as she’d found him this morning, bare-chested, the perfection marred only by the bandage she’d placed on his shoulder.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;

The wrapper fell from her shoulders, leaving her in the thin nightdress as he knelt at her feet and reached for her slippers to remove them.

Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

Cool fingers trailed down her neck and she arched into his touch as he eased the first button free and began to kiss each inch of skin it revealed. A low moan echoed in her ears and she realized the sound had come unbidden from deep within her throat. He raised his head and smiled cheekily at her as he returned to his task.

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:

The fabric parted beneath his clever hands as it slid from her shoulders and he prevented her from covering her bared body from his gaze. His voice caught for a moment as he drank in the vision before him, then he raised his eyes and held hers as he whispered softly:

And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

That last line was her undoing. She pulled him close and arched into his kiss, suddenly wild to have him closer, to feel the satin of skin pressed to hers as he levered her back onto the bed and caught her face in his hands as he devoured her lips.

She gasped as his mouth left hers and moved further down, sampling her flesh as though she were a feast laid out before him. When he reached the swell of her breasts, he stopped and raised his head, pinning her in his gaze with a question that didn’t need articulation.

"I want to be your love," she murmured, "Please, William, love me."

"I will Buffy, I will."

There weren’t words to describe the responses he pulled from her body then as he returned to her breast and slowly tasted her skin, murmuring his appreciation of the sweetness he found there. He closed his lips around her nipple and suckled as she imagined a child would, drawing from her sensations like she’d never felt before.

She twined her fingers in his head and tugged, not sure if she were urging him closer or pulling him away. He raised his head and grinned at her in a way that caused her stomach to somersault further, as he turned his attention to her other breast and gave it the same diligence.

Somewhere along the way she’d begun to chant his name over and over amidst moans that sounded like no sound she’d ever made before. Decadent, low, sensual noises of pleasure as her body reacted to every caress.

He nuzzled the curve of her breasts and rested his head as their eyes locked. "Do you know what I want to do to you Buffy?"

She licked her dry lips nervously and swallowed. How she could feel skittish in this state of dishabille, with her nightshift bared to the waist and the slight stubble of his chin abrading the tender skin he’d just been devouring, she had no notion. But she didn’t want him to stop.

"Tell me, William."

He captured her lips and purred against them. "I want to bring you pleasure until you scream from the ecstasy and beg me for more. I going to bury myself inside you and feel our flesh joining until you can’t tell where I end and you begin."

Her breath was growing ragged as she felt the hard proof of his desire nudging against her body, wanting to make good on his words. She nodded, completely lost to desire now. "Yes, please, William. Show me everything."

~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: The poem quoted is Christopher Marlowe’s The Passionate Shepherd to His Love

Chapter 14

What was love, really?

Was it hearts and flowers, fluttering emotions that cause the stomach to churn with a nausea that bordered on ecstasy when she glanced your way? That wild rush of sensation that the merest touch caused to ricochet around nerve endings stretched already too tight? The heady knowledge that she’d let you in to places she’d never let others?

Or was it the realization that you’d met your match, your mate, the person who somehow makes you feel whole? The woman who could make you complete.

He swallowed hard as he watched her sleep, her hair spread across the pillow, caressing the sheets with its tendrils. The way she’d opened her heart and herself to him, the depth of her response as she’d shuddered against him, the breathy sigh as his name had escaped her lips, they were all things he’d never experienced before. The nights with Drusilla, the heights and depths he’d explored with her skilled body had given him pleasure, but never this level of connection.

And it had left him shaken to the core. After yesterday morning, when she’d lit the fire between them with her gentle touch and that soul-searing kiss, he’d known he could have her. Knew she’d need a little persuasion, a bit of coaxing, but he’d felt the longing in her touch.

He’d quickly resigned himself to the notion that she would never be his mistress. Despite the gentle flirtation he’d pursued, he’d come to realize that Buffy was exactly what she appeared to be, a lady in the truest sense of the word, not a lightskirt, even a discriminating one who could only be lured with jewels and finery.

Until this past night. And even now he knew this wasn’t the same. She didn’t want him for his money, his possessions, his connections. She’d wanted him. As a man and as a lover. And that made all the difference.

He nuzzled her neck as she mumbled softly and burrowed closer against him. A small smile slipped free at how comfortable she was in his arms, how much she trusted him. This was what he’d longed for, in those long, lonely nights at sea, a match for him in every way. Clever, witty, a bit of temper to keep things interesting and so much passion bubbling between them it was almost uncontainable.

But with the rays of light that were starting to illuminate the sky came the stark remembrance he’d failed to face while they consummated their love. It could never be more than this, an illicit affair of stolen nights and fleeting moments. All because he’d foolishly signed a marriage contract to bring him success and a lovely bride whose simpering laugh and vapid stare left him cold.

He’d forgiven his father many years before, when he’d watched the agony of the man, who’d come and gone in fleeting snatches all his life, weep as though his very heart had shattered on his mother’s grave. There were responsibilities and obligations that society dictated and love was neither of those things. It was merely a bonus that one tried to seize if so fortunate as to find it, not a necessity. And as he’d watched the deep gasping sobs of his father, the ice he’d felt had slowly melted and he’d understood the reality of the world.

But this was the new world, not the old. And he wasn’t a lord with centuries of title bearing down on him as his father had been. All that stood between him and her was a promise to a man he didn’t even like and a girl who seemed reluctant to be in the same room with him. There must be a way around that. After all, everything has a price, if you were willing to pay it.

And for her, he now realized, he was. The woman cradled against him was fast becoming a necessity he did not think he could live without. He’d give almost anything if he could only wake her, drop to his knees, take her in his arms and say the words that would make her his wife at this very moment. She was the person he wanted to share a bed with every night, look at across the breakfast table for the rest of his life, and one day, father children with her beautiful hazel eyes and golden hair.

He lifted the delicate locks that laid across his chest and raised them to his face to inhale her scent. The merest hint of light was gracing the room now as daylight hovered just below the horizon and he knew he should leave before she awakened, and return when he could face her with the freedom to say those words. He ghosted his lips across her forehead and gently eased away, searching hastily for something to write with at her desk. Finding a scrap, he scribbled briefly, tucking the note into her hand. He dressed quickly, sliding his shirt over his head and shrugged carefully into his jacket as he quietly exited into the early morning.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy opened her eyes as she heard the window close behind him and slowly sat up, clutching the sheets modestly to her, though there was no reason for such an effort now. She’d heard him moving around the room, but the thought of facing him like this, still exposed and open from what had passed between them in the dark, filled her with a trepidation she’d lost somewhere in the wonders of the night. She placed one hand to her hot cheek, knowing it must be quite red as remembrances flooded back over her in waves.

Did he think less of her now? Though perhaps he ought. After all, she could hardly claim any moral superiority over Anya or any of the girls who worked for her, any longer. In some ways she was even worse than they, driven by need, whereas she was merely seduced by pretty words and soft touches, so desperate for affection that she’d throw her chastity away for a moment of pleasure. A small smile snuck unbidden on to her face for a moment, despite her guilt. Perhaps more than just a moment’s pleasure. She’d never imagined it could be that way between a man and a women, that she could feel the things he’d made her feel.

She slowly opened the note he’d tucked between her fingers before his hasty exit, wondering what he’d written. Would it be an apology for what had happened? Did he regret trifling with he? She knew she was terribly inexperienced, and left much to be desired in these sorts of things, Angel had been quite clear on that.

Or perhaps now that he’d had his fun, he’d decided a fallen woman like herself had no place in his household? Or around Dawn? She felt a quick flare of indignation at that thought. He could hardly take that attitude, she hadn’t been the one who climbed through his window last night. But he hadn’t seemed disgusted with her, even if he hadn’t stayed this morning. She’d been awake enough to feel the gentle brush of his lips across her forehead, a lover’s kiss, soft and undemanding.

Could that mean . . . Her fingers stilled in opening the scrap as a thought crept in. Could he want more? As Anya had hinted, he’d be looking for a bride. A man of his position generally was married. Her previous protestations at the thought of leaving widowhood remained notably silent at this prospect as with trembling fingers she began to read the script.

Dearest Buffy,

Last night was a revelation to me. I’ve experienced much in this world, but never what has passed between us. I have things I must care for and arrange, but I have hopes that I may see you again tonight to make you a proposal, so that we may begin something greater as we journey to my homeland. There is much there I long to show you.

You looked beautiful in the soft morning light, my dearest. It’s is a sight I hope to wake up to every morning for the rest of my life.

I regret I will be unable to breakfast together in our usual manner, plans for the trip will occupy much of my day. I will see you this evening at the Crawford’s dinner and hope you will allow me to accompany you home.

Yours,
William

The sheet slipped unheeded as she read the letter again. And again. A proposal . . . begin something greater . . . much I long to show you . . . wake up to every morning for the rest of my life. He wanted her as his bride! Not some tawdry liaison that cheapened what had passed between them, but marriage that celebrated their . . . love.

The note blurred in front of her as she realized what his openness had finally forced her to admit to herself. She’d fallen in love with William Montgomery, and all the barriers she’d erected around her heart hadn’t kept him from breaching her defenses. She read the words penned to the page. He might not have used the precise language, but it was there. His affection for her in print, just as it had been all through the night.

She leapt from the bed and twirled across the room, foolishly kissing the note. She’d almost forgotten about the dinner. Suddenly, the thought of wearing something other then black seemed appealing. Would he like her in lilac? She could certainly wear lilac without offending her former in-laws.

"Willow!"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Is Mr. MacDonald in? It’s quite urgent I speak with him right away."

The young man carefully copying the contract in front of him glanced away from his meticulous penmanship momentarily. "He just arrived, Mr. Montgomery. Would you like for me to find out if he can give you a moment?"

William stopped in mid-pace and stared at the clerk as though he were daft. "Well, yes. Urgent remember?"

The clerk trotted down the hallway and returned shortly, nodding to the agitated and slightly dishelved man. "He says to come right back."

William grasped the papers he’d retrieved from his safe this morning and entered the nicely apportioned office. Lindsay MacDonald was not a Charleston native, but he was universally recognized as a sharp attorney and a man with his finger to the pulse of the business community. William had early on selected him as the solicitor to handle the transactions for Montgomery & Harris and so far he hadn’t been disappointed. Now if he could only find a way to break this contract.

"William, how are you this fine day?"

"Fine, Lindsay, and yourself?"

"Can’t complain. Do you have the Johnson’s contract to review? Did they request some concessions in the terms we established?"

William cringed, he should have brought that with him, instead he’d left it lying in the study at home in his haste to fetch the purpose for his visit.

"No, I’m afraid I have another item today, one that is more confidential than most."

"You know I’m the soul of discretion."

William nodded. "I’m aware. But this matter is particularly delicate." He passed the contract across the desk. "I need to break this. I have no problem paying the money, but I can’t carry out the other obligation."

Lindsay frowned as he slid the paper closer and began to read to himself. After a few minutes he pushed back and whistled. "Now that is a mess."

"Really? Why? Wilkins is just strapped for cash. I’ll grease the skids, he can find some other fine Southern gentleman for his daughter and we’ll be fine. The engagement hasn’t been announced yet."

Lindsay shook his head. "It’s not that simple, Will. Don’t you see? This contract is thin ice at best, but Wilkins can talk around it being a bribe because as his future son in law, he’s doing a favor for family to help you get that permit. People will understand that. But if you just pay him straight out? It’s a bribe pure and simple and the others won’t stand for it if it comes out."

"It doesn’t have to come out. No one has to know."

"William, it’ll come out when Wilkins starts flashing that cash around, tries to build up his farm again."

He swallowed hard. "So you’re saying if I want that permit, I’ll have to go through with this?"

Lindsay nodded. "Will, it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Why did you sign this without letting me look over it?"

William shrugged as he began to pace the room again. "Thought it didn’t matter. Thought it was a good deal at the time." He turned suddenly and gripped the edge of the desk. "What if I just break it and walk away, any chance the rest of the council will grant that charter?"

"There’s no way. Richard’s got most of the members in his pocket, if he nay says it, the vote is a foregone conclusion and your company is limited to the few ships you’re running now, you’ll have to pull out and return to England. Or move to another port, and you know Charleston’s the finest harbor, at a considerable cost I might add, given how much you’ve sunk already into your infrastructure here."
Lindsay frowned as he studied William’s face. "What brought this on? Cold feet at getting stuck with Harmony Wilkins?"

He watched the play of expressions across his client’s face, registered his rattled appearance and realized it was something far more serious.

"Who is she?"

"I can’t tell you that."

"Will, are you in love?"

~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you in love?" The thought and its inevitable answer swirled in his head in the same way the whiskey swirled around the glass he seemed to be lost in. He didn’t bother to glance up at the sound of footsteps entering the quiet office.

"Will? What’s the matter? You look like hell."

William continued his study of the depths of the amber liquid in his hand. "Yeah, didn’t take time to change this morning."

Xander studied him intently. "You didn’t come home last night, did you old man?" His eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. "You . . . didn’t come home. You were with Buffy!"

He studied the stricken expression on his friend’s face and the drink, so early in his hand and retraced his enthusiasm. "Alright, something’s wrong here. Was it . . ."

The glare from William stopped him and he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Alright, not asking, a gentleman never tells and so on."

William scrubbed his hands across his face, "Xander, sit down. I need to ask you something." The somber tone in his voice sobered Xander and he sat as indicated. "I can’t marry Harmony Wilkins."

Xander smiled. "Glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Took you long enough. Will, you’ve barely seen the chit and you’re obviously mad for someone else."

"It’s that obvious?"

Xander nodded. "You’ve been a goner for a long time, mate."

Willam sighed in resignation. "Xander, I went to talk with Lindsay this morning. To see about breaking that contract. I though I could just buy my way out, and I wouldn’t regret a penny of it. But he doesn’t think that’s possible. If I don’t go through with this, Wilkins will deny us the harbor permits, because the money would seem a bribe. We’d be sunk here."

Xander shrugged. "So we’ll find another port Will. We’ll go to Wilmington or Savannah. Or we’ll not expand further, we’re doing fine with the fleet we have now."

"Xan, it’s not that simple . . ."

"No, Will, it is. Don’t misunderstand me. I was a wharf rat who had the good fortune to bunk next to you when I joined the Navy. Otherwise I’d be just another bitter old sailor by now. I’m grateful for that and I’m proud of what we’ve built in this business. Do you have any idea how amazing it is for me to see my name on the door out there?" Xander shook his head. "But none of it is worth making yourself miserable over. You’ve found someone special that makes you happy, that will keep you warm at night, someone you can grow old with. No matter how big we make this business, it’ll never replace her, if she’s the one."

He titled his chair back. "Besides, I’ve been doing some research, talking to captains that hit some of the other ports regularly. I think I might actually have a solution as to how to spilt the fleet so we can get around their docking restrictions. If you agree, you can just tell Wilkins we don’t need his harbor permits anymore."

William smiled for the first time since he’d left Lindsay’s office in despair. "Knew there was a reason I hung out with an old wharf rat. Let’s hear that plan."

~~~~~~~~~~

It was with a far lighter step that William knocked on the door of the Wilkins’ imposing home that afternoon. The door was opened promptly by an elderly black man in livery who bowed him in and seated William in the parlor. He hoped Wilkins would be understanding, hell, as expansive as he was feeling right now, he’d even offer to pay a part of the dowry so they could settle it on the little girl, help her find a nice young buck. And then he was going straight to Buffy.

He tapped his fingers on his knee, glancing around at the bric a brac that cluttered the tables. Wilkins was normally at the Planter’s Hotel, but he apparently hadn’t been there all day when William had called round to find him, nor at his formal office that was rarely frequented. Where was the man? He wanted to be done with this mess.

"Mr. Montgomery? How kind of you to call sir, we weren’t expecting you, or I would have been sure to have Harmony stay to see you today. She’s gone out for her daily constitutional with a friend."

He looked up to find Mrs. Wilkins beaming at him.

"How do you do ma’am? I’m rather sorry to drop by unexpectedly, but I was hoping to find your husband. There’s a matter I need to discuss with him before I leave tomorrow."

"Oh my, where are you off to? I hope everything is alright."

"I’m afraid some family matters require my attention in England, as well as a few business arrangements."

"Well, I am certainly sorry I’m the only one here then. Harmony will be so very heartbroken to have missed you. And I’ll pass word to my husband that you called. I assume you will still be at the dinner this evening, Mrs. Crawford mentioned you were to be in attendance."

"I do plan to be there. Perhaps I’ll be able to talk with your husband then." He rose from his seat, ready to conclude the conversation, suddenly feeling quite awkward given what he’d came here to do. "I apologize for taking so much of your time already. Thank you again, Mrs. Wilkins."

He thought he caught a glance of a blond head ducking out of the hallway as he exited and almost laughed aloud, relieved again. Daily constitutional, indeed. It would appear his initial instincts were right, Harmony had little desire to be in his company either, and he needn’t feel he’d broken her heart or any such nonsense.

Now, should he go see Buffy directly or wait until everything was settled? He glanced at his pocket watch. Time was rapidly slipping away, he’d best head back to the docks and finish the last minute paperwork if he was to dress and arrive at the Crawfords on time. He’d corner Wilkins, break the news to him, and then escort his love home with a clear conscience.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Finch? I assume you have some information for me, since you’ve summoned me down to this," Wilkins’ nose wrinkled in distaste, "remarkably filthy part of our fair city."

"Yes sir, and I apologize, it’s just, you said you needed the information as soon as it was complete."

"Very well my good man, what have you learned?"

Finch shuffled the papers on his desk as he found the documents. "Yes, well, as rumored, Mr. Montgomery is a bastard, but was acknowledged by his natural father and left a hefty inheritance. He’s made quite a fortune it would appear in his own right. Began his career at sea in the Queen’s Navy, then purchased his own ship and served as it’s captain for several years. After his father’s passing he began this venture. Very hard worker, seems to have the respect of his men."

He looked up from the report. "He seems to be a shrewd businessman as well, sir, but not without scruples. He’s made an excellent impression so far in town."

Wilkins nodded. "Anything further? Other skeletons other than his parentage?"

Finch turned the page. "He had a liaison with a courtesan in London for some time, but ended that before coming here, set her up nicely. Seems to be generous. No past marriages recorded. Not got much of a reputation as a man about town, seemed to have avoided the gambling hells and such, and preferred keeping a mistress than frequenting prostitutes. No peculiar affinities that I could find. As far as can I could find, no madness in the family on either side."

Wilkins rose, rubbing his hands, "Excellent, excellent. Is that all?"

Finch studied the paper carefully. "There is one other thing sir, though it appears to be a very recent development."

"Well, spill it man, I haven’t got all day."

"It would appear he has taken a widow here in town as his new mistress. A Mrs. Angel Crawford."

Chapter 15

Lilah was already in place to greet guests in the great foyer when Buffy arrived a few minutes before the appointed hour to avoid the crush, slightly apprehensive at appearing out of mourning for the first time in so many years. She pasted on a smile and approached the hostess.

"Elizabeth, so good to see you. You really must come out to the house more often, dear, Parker was just commenting on how lonely the place seems without you." Lilah’s eyes slid over her appearance as Buffy’s cloak was taken.

"I would certainly like to. I’m afraid I may have to travel out of town in the next bit however, there are some family concerns in Boston I may have to check in to."

Lilah’s face remained polite, though her eyes narrowed. "Of course. Mustn’t neglect your mother’s family. However I can hardly believe they expect a woman of your position to travel alone to Massachusetts."

"So thoughtful of you to be concerned, Lilah. However, my cousin and her traveling companion will make the voyage with me."

"Oh you’ll sail then? I would have thought you’d take the train." Lilah peered at her closely, "Elizabeth, you seem a bit flushed, are you quite well?"

Buffy nodded, wishing she’d never mentioned the details of the trip. There was no way Lilah could know what had happened last night. Or that a chance of such an event recurring on the voyage seemed almost inevitable. It wasn’t as though it was written all over her face, well at least not if she could control these blushes. She bit her lip to stop from smiling smugly at the thought.

"No, I’m quite fine, just perhaps I’ll step out for a breath of fresh air before the other guests arrive. Thank you for inviting me." She made the requisite bow and moved away as Lilah took her parting shot.

"Well, do give my regards to your mother’s family. And that’s a lovely gown you’re wearing, so very bright. Though I’m not sure if it’s your color, darks suit you much better."

Buffy turned and smiled sweetly, "Well, I know Angel wouldn’t have wanted either of us to mourn forever, now would he?" She pointedly stared as Lilah’s elaborate green gown before the next guest’s arrival gave her the perfect opportunity to slip away and savor the snarl on her mother-in-law’s face.

~~~~~~~~~~

"William, my, but you look handsome! We are so happy you could join us. I understand big things are in the works for you, my dear young man."

He returned the effusive greeting of his hostess, as Holland Crawford also extended his hand. "Yes, indeed, just spoke with Wilkins, you do have a great deal to look forward to in the coming months, both business and pleasure from the sound of things."

Lilah tapped his arm. "And we’ve made every effort to make this a pleasant evening, including seating you beside," she leaned in and whispered confidentially, "your blushing bride."

William’s heart froze as he suddenly heard the nasal voice of Harmony Wilkins behind him. He hadn’t even considered Wilkins would discuss the matter with others, assuming he’d want to keep such a deal quiet. This evening could become quite awkward before it was over.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a tortured affair, as Lilah’s little soirees always seemed to be for her. Parker was seated on one side, and some unknown business acquaintance of the Crawford’s on the other. William was trapped at the far end, ensconced near the head of the table and flanked by the Wilkins family. She supposed that was to be expected, what with the lobbying he’d been doing for the necessary harbor permits, but he seemed less than enthused by the company.

She desperately wished he was seated next to her. She’d hoped he would find some time to drop by, but suspected he was as busy as she, caught up in the whirlwind arrangements of preparing for the voyage, while moments of self-doubt warred with vivid memories of what had passed between them.

But as she glanced discreetly down the long table he managed to catch her eye for a moment, and in that brief instant time stopped and everything was fine in the light of his smile. She managed a quick smile of her own before she turned back to Parker. Tomorrow morning she would sail away with her new love and all would be right with the world.

~~~~~~~~~~

William responded to Mrs. Wilkins’ questions about his family back in England as best he could and tried to ignore Harmony’s chatter. Fortunately she seemed to direct none of it his way, despite clearly being seated as his dinner companion, for which he was insanely grateful. She was regaling the older man to her left with some rather convoluted story about her trip to Savannah the previous summer, an area he may or may not have been from. William was unsure on this point, since Harmony had barely paused to allow response.

She seemed to be rather nervous in his presence and he took that as a positive sign. If the girl nursed no affections, and why would she, they’d barely been in each other’s company since this whole farce began, perhaps a dissolution could be amicably arranged even now. Surely Wilkins would not force his daughter into a marriage she did not want. He just needed to find a chance to corner the man alone tonight for a few moments. Perhaps the opportunity would arise after dinner.

He covertly glanced back down the table to where Buffy was laughing at some tale of her dinner companion. She looked so beautiful in the lighter shade she’d chosen for the evening, more vibrant and alive. Her choice of color was like an announcement, one he wanted to stand and share with the whole party, that she was putting her past behind her and choosing him. He was sure of it.

~~~~~~~~~~

As the meal drew to a close and the men retired for their drinks and cigars, the ladies moved into the drawing room for conversation. Buffy was quickly surrounded by Cordelia Chase and Harmony Wilkins, who swept her along with them as they chattered on about how long it had been since they’d seen her. Just as they reached a small sofa, Cordelia looked down at her gown and noticed a small rip in the hem.

"Would you look? I’m going to have to go remedy that. Harm, you’ll come with me won’t you? And you as well Buffy?

After a brief word to Cordelia’s mother, the trio exited to one of the upstairs bedrooms put aside for this sort of repair. (.

"Buffy, you are positively glowing tonight. It’s so wonderful to see you out of mourning finally."

"Thank you Cordelia. How have you been? I’m afraid I haven’t seen you in some time. And you as well Harmony."

Cordelia laughed. "Oh you know how it is. Mama has just been determined this is my season, so we’ve been having fittings galore, getting dresses ready. Quite a hassle, I’m sure you remember. Must be so much simpler when you don’t have to worry about that sort of thing anymore." She raised an eyebrow, "Or does the end of mourning mean you are considering leaving widowhood behind you?"

Buffy chuckled politely. Cordelia was nothing if not a gossip and right before she embarked on an ocean voyage with William was hardly the time to reveal her new feelings to be spread around the town in her absence. "Just time for a change. I know that Angel would have wanted me to move on."

"It’s just the most tragic thing. To lose your love like that," Harmony sniffled and burst into uncontrollable tears.

Cordelia sighed and fished out a handkerchief. "There, there dear, it’s going to be alright."

Buffy watched the weeping girl in bewilderment. Harmony, from her various interactions with her, had always struck her as a bit of bird-brain, but never quite this sentimental.

"Harmony, dear, I have had time to grieve. I’m alright really. Time heals all wounds."

Cordelia shook her head and patted Harmony again, "You just cry it out Harm, we’ll leave you for a moment."

She motioned for Buffy to follow her out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

William stepped into the hallway outside the study, grateful for a moment of respite. He knew the Crawfords were an important family and clearly this party was the cream of Charleston society. But Parker Crawford’s loud mouthed blatherings and veiled barbs continued to rankle. Following dinner with Harmony and Lilah, which had been just short of excruciating, he was ready to be done with this evening.

He discreetly fished out his pocket watch to check the time. They should be rejoining the ladies soon for some sort of game. Apparently Lilah was big on games, though the type she’d hinted at during the dinner conversation were not exactly the type he suspected would be played in the parlor. That was one more dangerous lady, of that he was sure.

The click of the door behind him startled him from his thoughts and he turned to find Wilkins behind him, finally alone. He’d been deep in conversation all night and William had begun to despair that he’d ever be able to talk with him privately.

"Montgomery, how are you this evening? My Edna May told me you’d called this afternoon and wished to speak with me. How about we take these cigars and retire to Holland’s private study, he won’t mind a bit."

William followed into the small room closed off from the larger gathering and accepted the cigar as they settled into the well-appointed armchairs by the fire.

"Now son, what did you want to see me about?"

William took a deep breath. "Well, Wilkins, to be straight with you, I’m afraid after some thought, I’ve realized that contract was a mistake. After reviewing our business plans, I don’t believe we’re going to need the permits to dock additional ships here in Charleston after all. And further, not that Harmony isn’t a fine girl, but we have little in common and share no affection. I hardly think it would be fair to her, or to your family, for us to carry through with the agreement."

He paused, but Wilkins continued to meditatively smoke his cigar without comment.

"Now, as I said, Harmony seems like a charming girl, and I would be happy to settle a dowry on her, to perhaps make it easier for her in the future. I know you’ve been working on the permit matter for a while and I appreciate your efforts on our behalf, but we’ll submit the paperwork needed to formally withdraw tomorrow. I’ll be leaving town for a few weeks, but Mr. Harris will make sure it reaches you."

William came to a stop as Wilkins smiled, tapped the ash from his cigar and began to laugh. "My boy, that is quite the joke." He slapped his knee, "Ah, yes, one of the funniest things I’ve heard in quite some time."

"Wilkins, this is no joke. I have no intention of carrying through on the contract and for your own daughter’s sake, I hope we can settle this quietly."

"For my daughter’s sake or Mrs. Crawford’s?"

William felt his stomach drop as the words left Wilkins’ mouth. "Pardon?"

"Your lady love? New mistress? The reason, I’m assuming, for your sudden change of heart about our agreement?"

"I don’t know what you are talking about, Wilkins. Mrs. Crawford is a friend, that is true, but she’s hardly my mistress."

Wilkins face curved in a genial expression that belied the glitter in his eyes. "Really? And are you in the habit of leaving all your friends’ homes by way of the window in the early hours of the morning? Mrs. Crawford must be quite an accommodating lady indeed."

William was out of his chair and halfway to Wilkins who merely laughed again. "I suggest you sit down and listen, Mr. Montgomery. I suspect if you were to defend her honor here and now I’d be forced to reveal the source of our argument when everyone comes through those doors."

Fists clenched, William halted, knowing Wilkins would be just that low. He sank back into his chair. "Fine, what do you have to say? You’ll hardly change my mind."

"Now my boy, don’t be in a snit. Do you think I care that you’re having a liaison with Mrs. Crawford? Frankly, if my investigation hadn’t overturned some sort of mistress, I’d have been a bit concerned. A man has needs that he should not inflict on his cherished wife. I am a bit surprised by your choice of bed partner, since Mrs. Crawford never struck me as the type, but to each his own, as long as you’re discreet."

He rose and flicked the ash of his cigar into the fireplace. "No, my problem is that you wish to renege on our arrangement, William. You, a businessman whose word is as good as his bond. We made a deal, and you will follow through. With your money and business sense and my connections, this company will make us two of the most powerful men in this city, and one of the most powerful families in the state."

He stepped forward, so close that William couldn’t rise from the chair without pushing him out of the way, effectively trapping him as he towered above, his tone now icy. "Mr. Montgomery. You will marry my daughter. I will ensure you have those permits. Trifle with Mrs. Crawford all you will. Nurse a mad passion for her for all I care. But if you think about breaking our bargain again, be sure that she’ll be the one that pays. When I’m through, not a single lady in this town will receive her and she’ll be no better than the doxies that hang about the harbor. And don’t think I won’t make good on that promise."

He made his way to the door as William watched in stunned silence. "Have a good trip to London, William. We’ll announce the banns as soon as you return."

~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia fanned herself as she stood with Buffy in the hallway, after quietly closing the door. "We’ll just give her a moment. You might want to go on downstairs, this could take a while. She’s just very emotional right now, and when she gets the fits she tends to go on for a while."

"What on earth has happened to her? Can I help?"

Cordelia looked around, but the hallway was deserted. "Perhaps you can. After all, who knows the tragedy of lost love better than you?"

Buffy sighed. "Of course. But Cordelia, I don’t understand, what is the matter, was Harmony jilted?"

Cordelia shook her head. "Oh no, it’s much worse than that. It’s being kept quiet at the moment, but you won’t tell anyone, will you?"

Buffy shook her head, intrigued by the air of mystery to this secret.

"Mr. Wilkins has made a contract with that new man, William Montgomery, to marry Harmony next spring."

Buffy watched as Cordelia’s lips continued to move, but the sounds no longer made sense to her as the blood rushed to her head and she turned away, trying to keep herself from vomiting the remains of the meal on the patterned carpet in front of her.

William . . . to marry Harmony . . . in the spring.

"Buffy, are you alright? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost." Cordelia’s arm provided some support as she struggled to regain her composure.

"Just feeling a little ill. I think I may have had a little too much wine with dinner. Never had much of a head for alcohol. Cordelia, please excuse me and if you will give Lilah my regrets. Just tell her I felt unwell, she’ll understand."

Buffy turned and made her way down the rear stairs where Fred was waiting with some of the other maids in the kitchen. She had too get away from here as soon as possible. Away from him, for the mockery of his pretty words and promises. Away from the mistake she’d made.

"Miss Buffy, are you ill?"

She nodded wordlessly and Fred quickly retrieved her cloak so that they could exit into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

William rose, feeling as though he’d aged years in the seconds since Wilkins had walked out the door. If the man had punched him in the gut, he could not have felt more physically ill, as though everything he valued had just been snatched from him in a heartbeat.

And in fact it had. What was it Xander had said . . . it’ll never replace her, if she’s the one. He knew he should make his apologies to his host and hostess, but he stumbled to the door instead, needing to be away from this place, these people. He needed time to think. He needed to talk with Buffy.

Buffy. Who he’d promised to take home tonight. Who had smiled at him with a brilliance that had dazzled him )and taken his breath away. How could he face her? How could he explain this? Did he have a choice?

He started for the parlor where the women were and almost ran into a young lady who was just descending the stairs.

"Beg pardon, miss. Are you going in there?"

"Yes, I am."

"Could you ask Mrs. Crawford if I could speak with her a moment?"

Cordelia shook her head. "I’m sorry Mr. Montgomery, she left earlier, said she wasn’t feeling well."

He nodded. "I see, thank you Miss. . . ."

"Chase. Cordelia Chase. I’m a friend of Harmony’s." She raised an eyebrow and gave him a knowing look and he tried to respond with a grin he knew seemed rather sickly. "Ah, well, please do give my regards to Miss Wilkins. I’m afraid I must be on my way, I have some rather urgent business."

"I will. Have a good night sir."

William took his hat and coat from the servant waiting by the door and departed. Cordelia watched as he left. Why, he’d look as ill as Buffy had earlier. She wondered what he wanted to speak with her about. She filed away that mystery for later contemplation as she went in to find Mrs. Wilkins to see if she could take the near hysterical Harmony home.

Chapter 16

He knew standing outside her home in the wee hours of the morning was a mistake. He didn’t know whether Wilkins was still having him followed, and were someone to see him, it would only make matters worse.

He should talk with her, try to explain. He should scale that post as he had the night before and pour out his heart, give the reasons for why he was suddenly backtracking on his promises that had seemed so hopeful in the early morning light. Now, in the deepest dark of the night, he realized they’d been nothing more than an illusion.

There was no welcoming light from her room tonight. She must be asleep, ready to rise early for the new day and the voyage for which he’d had such high hopes. He wondered briefly if she had been truly ill at the dinner party tonight or merely eager to leave the less than stellar company, and whether she was angry with him now for not coming to see her sooner.

Which brought him back to the dilemma at hand. Should he just leave it for now? Not discuss the matter until they’d completed this trip, where he could properly explain, reason with her, and steal a few more precious days of bliss. But what could he say to her even then? Ask her to let him love her in private while she stood by and watched him marry another woman? Be a dirty little secret for the rest of their lives? The fact that she was the most powerful arrow against him in Wilkins’ quiver of blackmail was truly ironic, for he could think of no solution to the problem which would leave her unharmed, and that was the one price he was unwilling to pay.

He buried his face in his hands as he realized the futility of fighting the mire that gripped him. He needed to think, to try to come to some solution before he spoke with her. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered, as he walked dejectedly down the street.

~~~~~~~~~~

She let the curtain fall back in place as his figure disappeared from her sight. Had he come up, would she have let him in? Could she have pretended ignorance of what had occurred? She made her way back to the bed and sat down, feeling as fragile and vulnerable as a bird with a broken wing. She could at least be thankful he hadn’t forced that choice upon her, because she doubted she could have avoided the confrontation, and it was all still too raw.

It had been painfully obvious what had happened, once she’d taken the time to reflect on it. He’d barely glanced at Harmony throughout the dinner and she’d seemed truly distraught at the prospect of wedding him, so it was hardly a love match. No, he’d made a deal with Wilkins, just as her father had with the Crawfords. It was business, pure and simple.

But that didn’t make the pain any less at all. Somehow she’d let herself be wooed into believing he was different. Not like Angel, or Parker, or Holland, or even her father, who had all seen her as a commodity, a thing of value, rather than a person. She’d been so foolish to believe he wanted her, Buffy, even though she’d no longer had land or connections. Foolish to believe that he could want her simply because he loved her.

The covers were still rumpled and unmade from the night before and she curled into the bed, wishing she hadn’t foolishly prevented Fred from changing the linens this morning, wanting to preserve the lingering smell of William that came from the pillow.

She buried her face in the fabric, letting the regret recede for the briefest of moments in the wash of sensory memories that assaulted her. Flashes of the way his skin had glowed in the light of the flickering candle as he’d buried himself in her, crooning praise for her beauty and the response of her body as she’d lost herself in heady sensations, the like of which she’d never experienced before. And afterwards, when she’d blushed at her wantonness and tried to hide away, to pull back on the voluminous nightgown, the way his gaze had stopped her, had made her proud and bold and allowed her to lie uncovered as he’d outlined her skin.

She remembered how, when the urgency and need of the coupling had passed, the time for exploration had begun. His skin had been salty beneath her tongue, as she’d followed his lead, tasting the smooth flesh beneath his ear, the tautness where his neck and shoulder joined. Her fingers had danced down the planes of his chest until . . . She threw the pillow across the room, unwilling to remember more.

The sick feeling in her stomach returned and she huddled on the bed, wishing she could make the last day disappear. A small voice still whispered that he must care for her, perhaps a little, after the way he’d loved her the night before. Or was she confusing the ecstasy of the physical coupling with a true emotion? She had so little experience that she simply couldn’t tell anymore.

She smoothed the crumpled note in her hand, now tear streaked and worn, and realized that come daylight, there was really no choice. She’d been foolish. She’d broken the vows that she’d made, to never again allow anyone else control over her life. She’d been within a hair’s breadth of playing the part of the silly, needy widow she most certainly was not. But tonight’s revelation had been like the shock of cold water to a drunk, the wake up call she’d needed, to help her focus again.

If she could only cling to that resolve when she looked into his eyes.

The clock continued its relentless ticking as she noted the time on the face. The household would soon be rising and she’d have to announce that she was not going with them to England. She’d come up with a somewhat plausible excuse, though she suspected Willow would see right through it. But she didn’t think she could bear the trip, the days and nights in such close proximity to the man who’d broken her heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Will, you ready to go?" Xander knocked on the door of his friend’s bedroom, surprised he hadn’t already found him stirring downstairs. "We’ll need to leave with the carriage soon to pick up the harem of ladies you’ve acquired for this trip."

Xander knocked again before opening the door to find William sitting on the edge of the bed staring into the mirror, clothes rumpled and eyes bloodshot.

"Oh no, here we go again," Xander mumbled to himself as he shut the door behind him and pulled over the armchair from the corner. "Will, what’s the matter now? Things not go well with Wilkins?"

Will blinked and slowly turned to look at his friend. "I look more like him every day, don’t I, Xander?"

"’Fraid you’ve lost me there. Who?"

"My father."

"Well, you always did have something of a resemblance to the old man, but . . ." Xander stopped. "Will, just tell me what happened. You’ll feel better."

"Wilkins knows, about Buffy, about everything. Had me investigated, wanted to make sure I was a safe bet for this little venture I suppose." He swallowed hard. "I tried, Xan, I did. Told him we didn’t want the bloody permits, that I didn’t care for his daughter and that I’d pay him damages. And he just laughed."

He hung his head. "Laughed like the devil himself. And then he told me we’d make a dynasty, he and I. Apparently sees me as his ticket to success. Told me if I didn’t go through with it, didn’t expand the company, didn’t marry the girl, he’d go after Buffy."

"He threatened to hurt Buffy?"

Will nodded. "Oh, not physically. Just to ruin her reputation so she couldn’t show her face here again." He gave a hoarse laugh. "Buffy would be dragged through the mud and muck because of me, Xander, because she was foolish enough to let me in."

He walked over to the mirror and touched the reflection. "So yeah, now I think I’m seeing my father’s eyes in my face. Because I know the hell he lived in." He turned abruptly. "I can’t tell her yet Xander, I just can’t. Stood outside her house for hours last night, wanting to try to explain, to make her understand it wasn’t meant to be this way. But I couldn’t find the words. I can’t let her go yet. I can’t let her go. But I have to, for her sake."

He picked up the pitcher from the dresser and hurled it at the fireplace, watching as it shattered into a thousand shards.

"Is it wrong Xander? To wait until we come back? To give us this time together?"

Xander placed his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. "Probably so Will. But I can’t tell you what to do. That’s something you have to decide for yourself. But we’d best be going."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Harris, we’re all ready to go!"

William tried to paste on a smile for the eager Dawn, who was more animated than he’d ever seen her. Her reluctance seemed to have receded for the time being at the prospect of the trip with so many people she adored.

"Wonderful Dawn, go tell the others we are here."

Buffy was the last through the door, stopping for a moment to say something to Fred, who looked briefly puzzled, then nodded and returned to the house. He watched her as she descended the stairs, the quiet grace in her movements as her dark skirts swayed around her. She felt like a cool drink to his thirsty soul, just the sight of her, and he knew that he couldn’t let her go quite yet, no matter how selfish it might seem. There had to be a way out, had to be a solution.

And then it hit him. Anyone as devious as Wilkins must have his own skeletons in his closet. The best way to fight fire was with fire, and if Wilkins wanted to play dirty, William would show him that he was quite capable of it too. As he waited for Buffy to join the others already seated in the carriage, he pulled Xander to the side and quickly outlined his idea.

"William, that’s perfect. I’ll see about getting an investigator right away."

Satisfied, William turned away to find Buffy right in front of him, her eyes unusually large in her pale face. He resisted the urge to caress her cheek so openly in public and contented himself with taking her hand and placing a small kiss on her delicate glove.

"Does sailing make you nervous?"

She shook her head. "No, William, not sailing. Shall we be off?"

~~~~~~~~~~

The docks were already bustling when they arrived. Willow and Tara oohed and ahhed over the ship, and the lovely cabin they were to share and Dawn was enchanted with the Captain’s cabin that had been allocated for her and Buffy. Xander pulled William aside for a final reassurance that he would take care of the matter and then was preparing to leave the ship, when Buffy grabbed his arm.

"Xander, could you wait one moment? I’d like to ride back with you."

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Ride back? Buffy, I don’t . . . "

"Will you just wait a moment?"

She turned and rejoined the group, and as Xander watched, he realized she wasn’t going after all. Dawn began to cry and hug her fiercely, but although she comforted the girl, he could see the look of determination had not budged from her face. And then William walked up, and he knew a real explosion was about to occur. Because, he realized, William didn’t have to worry about Buffy finding out. She already knew.

~~~~~~~~~~

"It’ll will be fine Dawn, really it will. And you’ll be home for the holidays, I’m sure we can arrange that. Or perhaps we can visit you. I just learned last night that I have family obligations that force me to stay in town. Now dry your eyes, Dawnie, it will be alright."

Willow cleared her throat, "Are you sure Lilah needs you, Buffy?" Her tone was rather skeptical and Buffy knew Willow hadn’t believe for a moment the rather thin excuse she’d come up with. Willow glanced at William’s haggard face as he drew abreast of the group and then back at Buffy’s similar tired expression before nodding slowly. "If you think it’s best."

"I do."

"You do what?" William noted the tear marks on Dawn’s cheeks and the somber mood that had settled over the group which had been so buoyant only moments before.

"William, could we talk privately for a moment?"

He directed her towards the captain’s quarters, his heart sinking with every step as they drew nearer. He shut the door behind them to ensure their privacy and then turned to find her staring at him with unfathomable eyes.

"I can’t go with you, William."

He sat down heavily in the chair beside the small table to the side of the door. He’d known she was going to say that, yet, actually hearing the words still hit like a hammer.

"Is it because of last night? Or the night before? Buffy, I . . ."

"Don’t. Please. I don’t think explanations are called for and there isn’t much time before you have to sail. William, I know you are betrothed to Harmony. And I think I understand why. It was an arrangement with her father, was it not?"

Defeated, he nodded. "Yes. It was, but oh Buffy, she means nothing to me." He crossed the room to where she still stood frozen. "Love, you have to believe me, it all happened before I met you and . . ."

She placed her hand on his lips to stop the flow of words, excuses, justifications, lest she burst into tears and given in to the lies he could spin. She choked back a sob. No, not even lies, because there was even now something so heartfelt in his eyes that she couldn’t be convinced that he didn’t mean what he was saying. And somehow that made it worse.

"No more. William, I can’t go with you. I . . ."

A knock at the door startled them both and Buffy stepped away quickly as Clement popped his head in the room.

"Captain, we need to . . ." He trailed off as he registered the presence of a woman standing to the side and William’s focus on her. "I beg pardon, I didn’t realize you were, er . . . entertaining. I’ll just be going."

"No, I have to go as well." Without a final glance, Buffy turned and fled towards the door with William on her heels.

"Buffy, no, wait."

He stopped short on the main deck under the scrutiny of his and her friends’ gaze.

"Xander, I’m ready to leave now. Would you mind escorting me back?"

Xander gave a small apologetic shrug and followed her as she left the ship. Clement spoke quietly from William’s side. "Captain, we really need to sail or we’ll miss the morning tide."

William watched as she disappeared from view down the dock, her posture rigid and uncompromising. If she would only look back, just once. But her focus seemed undeterred and his heart sank faster than an anchor to the depths of the ocean.

He sighed. "Let’s be off then, Clem."

Willow quietly approached. "I know you have things you have to do. But when we get out to sea, you and I are going to talk about what just happened." Her steely voice left no room for compromise and he nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage ride back began quietly. Buffy appeared lost in her thoughts, her face drawn and pale.

"So, would you like to talk?"

She turned and offered him a wan smile. "I don’t think so. I suppose you know, though?"

He shrugged. "Well, there are things I know, yes. And given what just happened, I’m guessing you know them as well. But I doubt you know all of the things I know."

She gave him a searching glance before looking away. "And what would that be?"

"The fact that William adores you. That he’s never been so taken with a woman before. That he was willing to give up the plans we’d made for you, because he realized how much of a mistake he’d made."

Her heart clenched at Xander’s words, a strange little flutter of hope that she didn’t dare let live, but she firmly quashed it.

"That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still going to marry her, does it?"

Xander bit his tongue. Was it his place to explain? He suspected William didn’t want Buffy to know of how Wilkins had blackmailed him.

"Just give him a chance, Buffy. He’s trying to work this out. He really is."

She smiled sadly. "I’m sure that he is."

He gently pulled the reins to slow the horses in front of her home and she scrambled from the carriage before he could offer her aid, calling a brief thanks over her shoulder as she hurried into the house. He watched her for a moment, unsure of whether he should follow and offer more explanation, but the slamming of the door behind her seemed to firmly answer his question. Buffy was not in the mood to discuss anything right now. He chucked to the horses and pulled away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy shut the door and slowly sank to the floor, as the tears she’d held at bay for what seemed like hours now welled up again.

"Miss Buffy, are you alright?"

She tried to compose herself again, but she couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears that had begun to stream down her cheeks. "Just, just, need a moment or so, Fred." She waved a hand in a vacant gesture as if to indicate the sight of her crumpled in the foyer was of no concern.

Fred ignored the protest and sank to her knees beside her, thrusting a fresh handkerchief in her hands. "I’m sorry, Miss Buffy. Mr. William seemed so genuine. I suppose all men really are beasts." She rose and gently assisted Buffy in standing. "Let me help you up to your room, then I’ll make you a nice cup of tea and tell any callers you have that you aren’t available today." She wrinkled her nose. "Even Lilah Crawford."

Buffy nodded and followed slowly up the stairs, feeling exhausted after the events of the last two days. A little time to regroup was what she needed, to regain her focus. She’d been quite content before William Montgomery entered her life. She could be just as content now that he was gone from her life. She tried to ignore the small inner voice that whispered liar softly.

~~~~~~~~~~

The soft knock on the door of the captain’s quarters belied the force of will of its owner. William pushed away the paperwork he’d been trying unsuccessfully to use as a distraction for the last hour since they set sail. In reality, all he could see were her huge eyes, wounded and disappointed, as she refused to listen to him.

"Come in."

Willow entered as he stood and motioned her to the other chair. She seated herself, then pinned him with her gaze.

"William, what did you do to my cousin?"

He started to reply, but before he could begin, she held up her hand in a gesture of command. "No. Before you begin, you need to understand something. Buffy is one of the best people I know. She took me in when I needed a place to go, she’s accepted things about me that others won’t and she’s been my best friend since we were little girls. I love her as if she were my sister, William, and I do not want to see her hurt. She’s already gone through so much with that bastard Angel, may his soul burn in hell."

She leaned forward. "We all encouraged her to open up to you William. But you’ve hurt her. I don’t know how, but she was not the same Buffy who was so ecstatic yesterday morning. So start talking. What did you do to her last night?"

William actually felt a small frission of fear crawl up his spine as the diminutive young woman stared him down. Willow was more than a little intimidating in this posture, yet there was something in her gaze that made him think she hadn’t condemned him quite yet, but was willing to listen before passing judgment.

"They say confessions good for the soul." He shrugged, "Alright, Miss Willow, I hope you’ve got a while."

Chapter 17

William laughed nervously as he sat pinned in Willow’s gaze. "What can I say, I’m a bad rude man."

Willow was unfazed by the attempt at sidetracking the issue. "That remains to be seen. But it doesn’t answer my question."

William sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face as if he could wipe away his frustration. "Miss Willow, it’s really quite complicated."

"I don’t doubt that. However, I believe we have several days before we reach England. So you have plenty of time."

Well. He took in her look of resolve and gave in. "I’m in love with Buffy."

"Yes, I think we’ve all figured that out."

He gawked a bit at that. "Surely it wasn’t that obvious?"

A tiny smirk broke Willow’s severe expression. "My bedroom is next to Buffy’s, William."

"Oh." He had the grace to blush a bit. "But Miss Willow, you must understand, even if we were, perhaps, a trifle hasty in consummating our affection, I realized right away that Buffy was the woman for me, as my bride."

Willow graced him with a smile at that announcement, and then paused, her face falling. "Oh that wretched girl, that was the problem, wasn’t it? She swore she would never marry again after those horrid years with Angel, and now she’s running like a scared rabbit. No wonder she refused to come." She leaned forward earnestly. "You won’t give up will you? Faint heart never won fair lady and so on."

Horrid years with Angel? William made a mental note to pursue that point in greater detail with Willow momentarily, but realized that if he wanted this young woman’s aid and support, he’d have to come clean about the rest of the mess.

"I’m afraid that wasn’t the reason Miss Buffy was angry with me." He pressed on, suddenly eager to get the whole thing aired and hoped that Willow would offer some advice as to how he could mend the broken ties. "Before I met Buffy, I made a deal, a business deal, but it involved a marriage contract. My marriage contract," he clarified as though it wasn’t clear what he meant.

Willow’s eyes grew large as he related the whole sordid affair down to his confrontation with Wilkins and the threats that had been made. "But I’m trying to find a way out, still. I’m sure Wilkins has something he doesn’t want exposed, it’s just a matter of finding it. But if I can’t, then I’ll do what has to be done to protect Buffy. I won’t let her come to harm."

Willow listened in silence to the explanation until William concluded, obviously drained. "That is quite a mess. William, have you explained matters to Buffy?" she asked.

"I tried, but she, well she didn’t much care for what I had to say." He sighed heavily. "Miss Willow, if I can put things right, if I’m a free man, do you think I have a chance at all? Do you think it’s possible for her to forgive me?"

Willow shook her head slowly. "I honestly don’t know. You should have told her, been honest with her. Buffy . . . she’s always hated being someone’s pawn, something to be used. I think that was the worst part with Angel. That she was just a thing to him. But you’re trying, and that counts for a great deal. If you could come to her with no impediments, I think you might win her back."

He beamed. "You really do believe so?"

Her resolve face returned. "Now notice the qualifiers there, William. If . . . and that’s a big if, you can end this thing with Wilkins without some sort of scandal, you may have a chance."

He leapt to his feet and surprised the girl with a swift kiss to the cheek as he helped her up.

"William!" Willow touched the spot where his lips had just landed.

"I can’t help it, you’ve given me hope, and besides, if all goes well, we’ll be family soon, now won’t we? Thank you Willow, for both the advice and for listening. I have a goal and trust me, nothing gets in the way of my goals. Now, before you go, sit and tell me ‘bout this Angel bloke. Sounds like a right prat."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Is she still moping?" Anya bustled into the room and nodded to the upper floor.

"Yes. She won’t admit it, says she’s just catching up on things she’d neglected, but that’s what she’s doing. She’s been doing embroidery - and you know how much patience she usually has for that."

Anya groaned. "This is ridiculous. I’m going up."

"Anya, she said she wasn’t receiving."

"Piffle. She’s not receiving, that means social acquaintances, not close friends."

Fred eyed her in slight disbelief. "I think that means no one in this case, Anya, but you can take your chances. Heaven knows she needs to talk with someone, and I haven’t been able to get her to mention anything related to him. She’s acting as though nothing happened between them, even though it clearly did."

"She hasn’t told you?"

"No, she won’t mention it all." Fred paused for a moment as though unsure whether to pursue, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Anya, what exactly did happened?"

"He’s engaged to be married, Fred, to that Wilkins girl."

"No!" Fred gasped. "No wonder she’s so broken hearted. I was sure he was in love with Miss Buffy."

"Oh, he clearly is. There’s just this big mess that needs straightening."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "And you’re the person to do it?"

"Among others. Buffy’s helped a good many people over the years. It’s time she got a little happiness in return, don’t you think?"

Fred smiled. "I do. Is there anything I can do to help?"

We’re working on it, I’ll let you know, alright? Now, I’m going up to beard the lionness in her den. Wish me luck."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Come in, Fred, tell me what you think of this pattern."

"Good morning Buffy."

"Anya!" Buffy looked startled, then smoothed the fabric in her hand. "Well, you can give your opinion then. What do you think of this knot pattern - wouldn’t it look lovely in multiple colors?"

Anya didn’t spare the small hoop a second glance, though she did take in the black attire Buffy had swathed herself in and the rather severe and unattractive knot in which she’d pulled her hair back. "Buffy, what are you doing?"

"Embroidery, Anya. I should think that was obvious," Buffy returned coolly, as she focused on the needle in front of her.

"Don’t play coy Buffy, Xander told me what happened."

"Oh he did? So I take it Xander knows all the details of William and my little tryst. Or are you here to ferret out those details as well? Very well Anya. I’m a fallen woman and can no longer lecture you. Happy now?"

Anya shook her head and seated herself in the rocking chair opposite Buffy. "You know I’m not here to judge you. Buffy, I’m so sorry, I wish I’d known. I would never have encouraged you if 'd realized William had already made such an arrangement. I know that for you that’s a rather insurmountable barrier."

Something about the softness of her voice soothed the raw ache Buffy felt inside. Anya and she might not find middle ground often, but there was a sympathy and understanding in her friend’s voice that spoke of one long accustomed to dealing with the disappointment of the shortcomings of men. And compassion for her, despite her foolishness.

She dropped the pretense of the embroidery. "Anya, why is it so hard? Why did he do this to me? I know better, how could I have been so gullible?"

"I don’t know Buffy. You two fit somehow, as though you were a matched pair. You had an energy that was so rare, though neither of you seemed to realize it." Anya regretfully shook her head, "Well, it’s a crying shame. And even in my jaded view, terribly romantic."

"Romantic?" Buffy snorted. "Contracting to marry a woman is hardly romantic."

Anya waved away that triviality. "Not that part, dear. Him marrying her to protect you."

The hoop clattered to the floor as Buffy sat straight up and leaned forward. "Protect me from what?"

Anya’s hand flew to her mouth. "You mean he didn’t tell you?"

"Tell me what? So help me, Ahn, you’d better begin."

"Buffy, he tried to break the contract, with Wilkins, the night before he left. Offered Wilkins a nice settlement and everything. Wilkins threatened you, threatened to spread it around town that you were Will’s mistress if he didn’t go ahead with everything. Buffy, didn’t you know?"

The world seemed dizzy for a moment as she tried to process this news. "Anya, you’re sure? Did Xander tell you this?"

Anya nodded. "Buffy, William does love you. You at least have that comfort, even if he made some foolish choices. And that’s more than most of us get. Now, will you agree to come out a bit, get some air? You’re starting to look quite pasty. At least come by and visit later, have a game of cards with us. You can’t mope in here forever, Buffy."

Buffy nodded, her mind racing. "Tomorrow then? I’ll be there mid-afternoon."

Anya accepted the arrangement and rose, pulling her fine lace shawl around her. "I’ll be looking forward to it."

Buffy walked Anya out, then slowly returned to her room. The enormity of what William was doing suddenly hit her. He had tried to end things, had tried to free himself. And he cared enough for her to enter into a loveless marriage he no longer wanted to protect her as best he could.

Tears that she thought had dried up for good spilled down her cheeks at the thought of that kind of sacrifice. She knew firsthand the agony of such a relationship, trapped until death parted you from the person you were supposed to long for, yet grew to hate more every day because they seemed more like a jailer than a husband. She couldn’t allow him to do that for her.

The fact that he’d agreed to the deal initially seemed of little consequence now, because she knew deep down he would have walked away had Wilkins not threatened her. In an ironic fashion she was the linchpin to the whole equation.

Buffy stood and looked around the room, her bedroom that had been her haven when she’d fled Crawford Place, with its simple furnishing and light colors. She slowly walked out the door and down the hallway, pausing to admire the cozy nest she and the others had fashioned here. Her tour complete, she gave the old stair newel a final pat, her mind made up. As much as a refuge as this house had been, she needed to find a new home now.

"Fred, could you come with me downtown? I need to go to the Western Union office and send a telegram."

Fred popped round the corner, slightly startled by the sudden emergence of Buffy. "A telegram?"

"Yes, to my old teacher in Boston. And then we have to pack. I’m taking a very long trip."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Wes, how are you? Did you have a smooth crossing?" Xander clasped the hand of the remaining silent partner in the enterprise of Montgomery & Harris. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce had the most polished pedigree of the lot of them, as the legitimate third son of a duke, who also stood to inherit nothing. He’d been a classmate of William’s at school before Will had run off to the navy, and they’d recruited him as their money man when they’d hatched the idea of the shipping company after Will had come into his inheritance.

"Fairly so, though I’m quite glad to have solid ground under my feet again. I don’t know how you and William stood all those years at sea." Wesley shuddered and polished his glasses as he took in the small office space. "Well, it looks as those you’ve made a good start. I’ve brought the documents from London, I think we’ve arranged an excellent rate of return on the cotton we’ll be bring in, several mills have expressed interest in long-term contracts." He glanced around at the two cluttered desks. "Where’s Will?"

"He just left a few days ago to go back to England, got a rather urgent message from his brother. He should be back in a few weeks. He’ll hurry home." Xander singsonged, "He’s in looove."

"Cupid’s caught up with William, eh? I expected it wouldn’t take long. He’s had that look about him, wants to settle down. One of the local gentry I suppose?"

Xander snorted. "Now does Will ever do things the easy way? No, he’s got himself tangled in a mess of epic proportions." He explained Will’s problems. "Perhaps you can help us try to sort it out."

Wesley shook his head. "If I can, Iwill. How does Will manage to get into these dilemmas?" He eyed his friend closely. "Now I suppose you are still footloose and fancy free, Xander?"

Xander grinned. "Oh no. I’ve been nailed straight through the heart, must be something in the water. In fact you’ll have to come round with me, I’m about to go see her now. I’ll see if she can’t get you set up with one of her girls. Just wait, we’ll have you shackled next."

"Xander, do not tell me you’ve taken up with some doxy!"

Xander’s face darkened. "Only gonna tell you this once Wesley, and that’s because you’re a good friend. Anya’s not a doxy, nor tramp. She’s an enterprising businesswomen, something you should appreciate, and as soon as I can convince her, she’s going to be my wife."

Wesley threw up his hands. "My apologies Xander, I didn’t realize you were so serious about the young lady in question. Then by all means, let us be off so I can meet her. My goodness, what is it with this country? Will’s bowled over by a widow who was his housekeeper, you’ve taken up with a madam, are there no places to meet, well . . ."

"Respectable women?" Xander laughed. "We’ll see what we can find you, Wes. But for tonight, I believe Anya can make sure you’re taken care of. Ask her for Faith."

"Faith? What a lovely virtuous name."

Xander just laughed as he turned the horses for Anya’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy sat at her writing desk and nibbled at the tip of her pen. This was the last of the letters to finish off before she left. The first few had been easy, just little notes about various social obligations and so on. This one was more tricky, because she’d suspect the truth. That Buffy was running away.

She dipped her pen in the ink and began.

Dear Anya,

She paused again. Of course this wasn’t really the last letter she needed to write. There was one more. One to William. She owed him at least that, to try to make him understand that she realized, now, what he was trying to do for her, and that she couldn’t let him take that step. But she had more time for that later. Her glance fell on the bed she’d shared with him and she looked quickly away. It would be easier then, when she was away from here in Boston.

She sighed and returned to her note. Just a few short lines to say that she was headed to Boston to visit with family and she thought she’d make it a lengthy stay.

Of course that wasn’t quite the truth. She didn’t really want to stay with her mother’s family up there, they were as cold in their own way as her father’s side of the family had been at times. No, she was going to a place where she’d felt welcomed before and hoped she’d be welcomed again. Where she could be useful. Miss Greenlee’s School. She’d received the telegram this morning, agreeing to speak with her about a possible position.

It had given her pause, when she’d held that small scrap of thin paper in her hand. This was a major change, an upending of her life as she knew it. But then, hadn’t that been happening since the morning William had caught her sneaking across his backyard? This was just the best course of action for her now.

‘The path of least resistance, the easy way out,’ some treacherous part of her brain noted.

No, it was the smart move. Away from temptation and heartbreak and pain. ‘And love.’

She bit her lip and focused on the note instead. Just a few more lines, not to worry, would write when she was settled, wished everyone the best. There, she was done.

Fred would go to William’s for now, help out in place of the lost housemaid for which she’d never managed to find a replacement. She should be fine there, Xander would look out for her. The house was ready to close up for now, and would stay that way for a few weeks until Willow and Tara returned. She was happy she could provide a shelter for her friends here. It had certainly been a haven for her. She gave a final glance around and picked up her small traveling valise to carry with her on the long train ride as she arranged her veil.

She was ready to move on.

Chapter 18

"I’ve sent word ahead that I’ll have additional company with me. My brother will be expecting all of you, don’t be nervous."

Dawn nodded mutely, still feeling unsure of herself as she gazed at the passing streets from the carriage window. London was by far the most impressive city she’d ever seen, making Charleston seem almost a village by comparison. And she was about to meet a Lord, which made her so nervous she had to suppress the urge to vomit. Willow had helped her practice her curtsey and the proper manner to address William’s brother, but she was still concerned she would botch something. And then William would be ashamed of her, or angry and no longer want the bother. Maybe that was how Buffy had felt.

She still wondered if she’d done something to cause Buffy to not join them, despite Willow and Tara’s reassurances to the contrary. She’d wheedled and pouted for the reason until finally Tara broke down and explained that Buffy and William had had a disagreement that kept her from coming. But she’d refused to tell her more. What if their argument had been about her?

Dawn sighed and fought to keep from twitching in the unaccustomed finery that they’d finished altering for her on the voyage over. The carriage rolled to a halt.

"Looks as though we’ve arrived," William smiled at her reassuringly as the door opened and a footman in full livery began to help them out in front of an imposing townhouse in what appeared to be a very affluent area of the city. Dawn breathed as deep as her tight undergarments would permit and straightened her back further. "I’m ready."

"That’s my Bit. Now don’t be afraid. Oh, and you’ll have to remember to challenge him to chess, just don’t let him win. Little sneak will cheat when you aren’t looking."

She nodded and followed him up the steps to the front door, where another liveried footman stood ready to swing open the entrance.

"William!"

Dawn almost giggled at the slight, almost foppishly dressed young man in the hallway. He shared William’s general hair and eye color, and a family resemblance could be seen, but he was like a weak copy, a watercolor that had blurred in capturing the image. He seized his older brother’s hand and then grabbed him in a hug, as William sought to disentangle himself from the overly enthusiastic greeting.

"Andrew, how are you?" he asked, as he stepped back and urged Dawn up beside him.

"Wonderful." Andrew’s attention was quickly diverted to the three ladies, his eyes lighting up. "William, please introduce us. These must be the delightful traveling companions you mentioned."

"This is Dawn, my new ward."

"Magna puella," Andrew leaned over and kissed Dawn’s hand as she struggled through her curtsey and glanced at William in confusion.

"Don’t speak Latin and put on airs Andy." He turned to Dawn. "He called you a beautiful girl. Or I think that’s what he was attempting to do."

"Oh. Well, thank you very much, Lord Darlington."

Andrew waved away the title. "Please, call me Andrew." He continued to clutch Dawn’s hand.

William harrumphed and drew his attention back. "And these are Miss Willow Rosen, and her companion, Miss Tara McClay."

"Enchanted, my ladies." Andrew turned to them and again swept into a deep bow as he saluted each of their hands. "I am so looking forward to the next few days, we’re going to have a wonderful visit. Now, I’ve had rooms prepared for all of you, so that you can freshen up after your trip. William, could we talk?"

Servants leapt to attention and whisked the women away as the half brothers made their way to the study.

Andrew took out a handkerchief and stifled a cough with it as he poured a half glass of brandy and offered it to his brother, then poured another small amount for himself. He passed the glass over and William took a sip as he relaxed in the chair, grateful to have finally arrived, but eager to know what this urgent family business was all about.

"So, you seem to be having some adventures in Charleston! How on earth did you end up with such lovely women as traveling companions?"

William rolled the liquid in the glass. "It’s a long story Andrew. Met a girl, got caught up in her life, and ended up with the little one, her cousin and companion. Lost the girl for now, but I plan to get her back. Of course someone sent me an urgent letter insisting I come in person to London." He arched an eyebrow. "So can we get to that?"

Andrew sighed happily. "That’s so romantic. You’ve been slain by the arrows of Cupid."

"Andrew, don’t be melodramatic."

"Well, haven’t you? Do you love this girl? What’s her name?"

"Elizabeth." William smiled a little. "Buffy, really, everyone, her family, they call her Buffy."

"Buffy. That’s so unique."

William shook himself out of the memory. "Andrew, I didn’t come all this way to make small talk about my life. You sent a letter that there was urgent family business. It was not the most convenient time for me to leave, but I knew you wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. So let’s get this out of the way. Are you having financial problems?"

He watched his younger sibling closely. Andrew had always been a little different and special. He’d been a sickly child, beset by various ailments that had kept him confined to the country home for much of his life, educated by tutors, rather than the schools William had suffered through.

Their relationship by all rights should not have existed. Yet from his earliest memory of him, Andrew had always been his shadow whenever he’d visited with his father, tagging after him, looking up to him. It had felt good to have someone regard him that way, almost as though he was his real brother, not some by-blow

And Andrew never seemed to have resentment for what their father had given him. He’d had the unusual position of being both the heir to the title and the youngest son, and William knew he’d been ill at ease with the mantle of his title since their father’s passing, unable to find his fit.

Andrew had dabbled at various occupations, but proven successful at none, though the elder Lord Darlington had provided financial advisors to ensure Andrew would remain comfortable. Still, William knew how easily the turn of a card or roll of the dice could bankrupt a family fortune, and Andrew had occasionally drifted into the more outrageous crowds that haunted London’s seedier sides.

Andrew shook his head. "No, no, it’s nothing like that Will. I’m moving to Italy, I’m going to paint!"

"You paint?"

Andrew smiled cheerfully, "Well, not yet, but I’m going to learn. It’ll be so wonderful, Will. And the doctors say that it’ll be good for me, the air is so much better there."

"Are you ill, Andrew?" William suddenly took note of the handkerchief and the slight cough that Andrew seemed plagued with. "Is this serious?"

"It’s been getting worse, but they think if I take this treatment it will provide a cure."

William leaned back, relieved. "Well, that’s great, Andy." He took a deep sip. "I’m glad to hear it."

"But there’s more!"

William sat up again.

"And it’s about you."

"About me?"

Andrew crossed to the massive desk that dominated the room and slid open the top drawer, removing a sheaf of papers that had a clear seal in the upper corner. He handed them to William, then resumed his seat.

William began to sift through the papers, skimming the top document, which appeared to be an order passed by the House of Lords. His eye caught his father’s name, then slowed and he found his own name and his mother’s. He began to read more slowly. Once done, he began to read again until he’d consumed every word.

He stared at Andrew. "What on earth is this about? When did this happen? Is this real?"

Andrew nodded. "It’s real. Lord Jeffries had promised father he would see it through, present all the evidence, and ensure the special dispensation was granted. It took him awhile, but he succeeded last month. You’ve been legitimized Will, by a special order of the House of Lords."

William gaped at Andrew. "What kind of nonsense is this? Why this bother now, when it doesn’t matter anymore? It was important for my mother, why did he wait? I couldn’t care less."

He tossed the papers to the side and paced behind the sofa.

"Will, he did it because I’ve never been strong and he knew I might not be able to have an heir. He wanted to make sure you could take the title." Andrew’s voice dropped. "And he wanted to make sure you knew he loved both of you."

William turned suddenly. "But Andrew, I don’t understand. You have the title. You don’t need me. I don’t want this. I’ve started something new, I’ve found someone special. I don’t want this kind of obligation."

"But it should be yours. Don’t you understand? It was always supposed to be yours." Andrew smiled. "Will, you know I never wanted this either. I’m no good at it. But you . . . you’re so much smarter and more competent. You were his favorite. He wanted it for you. For your mother and you."

"Andrew, no, it wasn’t like that."

Andrew patted his brother’s arm. "It’s alright Will. I’m just glad Jeffries got the bill through in time. I don’t want to be Lord Darlington anymore. I want to be a wandering Italian painter, looking for his muse." He grinned broadly. "And now, I’m going to go find our lovely guests. I’ll see you at dinner."

~~~~~~~~~~

William watched his brother bounce to the door and then sat down heavily. He poured a second brandy and closed his eyes briefly before picking back up the papers that had scattered to the floor. How had his father managed this? He flipped through the documents, the registry of his parent’s marriage.

Wait, a marriage certificate? He flipped further and found an annulment along with statements from villagers from the town near the Darlington estate. He slowly pieced together the record, how his parents had married, how his grandfather had forced them apart and had the marriage voided so the marriage to Lady Amelia could be consummated. His father had proved the falsity of the statements that had been ground for the annulment and had had a special dispensation granted to recognize the child of the earlier marriage.

He felt a tear trickle down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, flustered even though he was unobserved by the show of emotion. The fact that his father had gone to such great lengths touched him, yet he couldn’t help but feel the efforts were too little, too late. He understood the gesture, yet the mantle of legitimacy and the prospect of a title meant little to him now.

And yet it appeared he didn’t have much choice. Andrew seemed content, excited even to be moving on. Which left him where? Back in London, embraced by the society that had shunned him before? Could he just ignore this new development and go back to Charleston?

Did this matter? In some ways it shifted everything. How others would view him, certainly. But even perhaps how he viewed himself. Only he wasn’t sure yet exactly how that was.

He gathered up the documents and placed them back on the desk. No matter what he decided, there were matters he needed to deal with first. Dawn, Buffy, the business. This could wait until later.

He touched the marriage record that lay atop the pile and softly traced his parents’ names inscribed there. How had they lived with those lies their entire life? Out of fear?

He straightened the paper and turned for the door, certain of one thing. He would not lead his life the same way.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy nervously smoothed her gloves as she waited for the knock to be answered. She felt more than a little dishelved, despite her attempts to freshen up at the hotel after the long and tiresome train journey north. But she certainly wasn’t going to stay with the Rosens and have them pity her if she was unsuccessful in her attempt there. Or insist she simply stay on with them, protesting her wanting to teach as some crazy notion. Yes, this way was for the best. She’d know soon enough if her plan would work.

The door opened to a crisply attired maid in starched black with white trim, projecting the air of gentility for which Miss Greenlee’s Ladies Academy was renowned. "Please come in Mrs. Crawford. Miss Greenlee is expecting you."

The older lady still looked much the same as Buffy remembered her, back ramrod straight, hair perfectly coifed in a subdued style, and serviceable black day dress signaling that she was every inch the paragon of spinsterhood. With a brief inner shudder, Buffy realized that she was staring as where she would be in a matter of years.

"Mrs. Crawford, Elizabeth, my dear, do come here. It is so good to see you. My, it’s been more than five years now hasn’t it? I was so sorry to hear of your father and husband’s passing, so much for you to bear. How have you been holding up?"

Buffy smiled as the volley of questions and quickly gave Miss Greenlee the highlights of what had happened since she’d left the school, including the background about Dawn.

"And this girl, she’s the one to be enrolled?"

"Yes, William, I mean Mr. Montgomery, will be bringing her on his return from a business trip to England."

The slight catch as Buffy mentioned the British gentleman who would arrive with the new pupil didn’t go unnoticed.

"Now this Montgomery, there’s nothing . . ." Miss Greenlee wrinkled her nose slightly to indicate potential distaste, "inappropriate about his relationship with the girl, is there? Awfully benevolent to aid her in this way, without any sort of," she paused for effect, "compensation. And I really can’t have that sort of thing here."

Buffy flushed indignantly. "Miss Greenlee, for shame. Mr. Montgomery has no such designs on Dawn, why she’s just a little girl, really. He’s simply a generous individual willing to help those less fortunate."

"And I suppose you were the one to point out the need for that assistance?"

At Buffy’s shocked look, Miss Greenlee couldn’t resist a chuckle. "Now Elizabeth, dear, don’t think I’ve forgotten your propensity to try to save things, everything from stray kittens to the little chambermaid who got herself in trouble."

"I might have suggested he consider sponsoring Dawn, but he is truly the one who is the philanthropist here."

"So Mr. Montgomery values your opinion highly, then?" Miss Greenlee tossed out the question as she poured tea into a delicate china cup.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. When did this conversation become about William Montgomery and her? She was here to ask for a job. "To a degree I suppose. But Miss Greenlee, enough about Dawn, I’m sure she’ll do quite well here and I’m so glad you accepted her mid-term. What I traveled all the way from Charleston for was to discuss a proposition with you."

Miss Greenlee handed her the cup and busied herself pouring the next. "Yes?"

"You always taught us that a lady should be a useful member of society, should work to make better the lives of those around her. Since the passing of my husband, I’ve been at loose ends and have been trying to find the best way to accomplish that. And after careful thought, I believe the best way for me to do so would be to teach young ladies, to pass on the skills and values that you instilled in me while a student here. Miss Greenlee, I would like to teach here, under you. I’ve kept up my French, I could teach English, I’m not very good at embroidery, but I . . ."

"Elizabeth." Miss Greenlee halted the tide of suggestions. "Are you quite sure this is what you’d like to do?"

At Buffy’s emphatic nod, Miss Greenlee stirred her cup and watched the dark liquid swirl.

"Very well. I’ll take you on as an instructor on a trial basis. You can assist Mrs. Bishop with the English class to begin. I won’t pay you a salary until you’ve completed a trial of, shall we say, four weeks? However, you may take a room in Rose Cottage and have meals with the other instructors. Does this sound an acceptable arrangement?"

"Absolutely. Thank you so much, Miss Greenlee, I do appreciate it."

"Very well then dear, go and get settled in, you’ll begin classes Monday."

After a final round of effusive thanks, Buffy floated out on a wave of exhilaration to retrieve her bags.

Miss Greenlee sighed as she took a sip of the rapidly cooling tea and decided to ring for more hot water. Elizabeth Summers, no Crawford now, would have made a fine teacher. But if she was any judge of reading people, and she liked to think she was, Elizabeth would soon be Mrs. Montgomery when whatever tiff she’d had with this man was concluded. She’d give it until his arrival with the new student, Dawn.

Despite a propensity for pranks with her cousin, Miss Rosen, Elizabeth had always been one of her favorite pupils, and she hoped this William would make her happy. She might have to see if she couldn’t arrange for them to see one another on his arrival. She smiled benevolently. Yes, she just might have to do a bit of matchmaking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Wilkins."

"Why, good afternoon, Cordelia. Are you going to stay with Harmony?"

"Yes, ma’am. Thank you for inviting me. We’ll have such a good time getting ready for tomorrow’s musical evening."

Mrs. Wilkins nodded. "Wonderful, dear. I hope you can cheer poor Harmony up. She’s been so despondent lately. I’m beginning to think she’s more infatuated with Montgomery than I thought. She’s been positively moping since he left town." She smiled brightly. "But he’s due back in the next week or so I believe, so she should be in good spirits again soon, especially once we announce the engagement. Well, you two enjoy yourself."

Cordelia headed up the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief to be out of Mrs. Wilkins’ presence. She was sure the guilt she’d felt over letting Harmony getting involved with that soldier in the first place must be plastered all over her face. Now, it was her job to fix it.

She opened the door to Harmony’s room.

"Harm? How are you today?"

Harmony turned a pale face to her friend. "Not very well." Her voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Cordy, I’m still getting sick every morning."

Cordelia bit her lip. This wasn’t good. She knew it was one of the signs that a woman was expecting a baby, her Aunt Katie had been pale and ill every morning when she was carrying her niece. Of course they hadn’t come right out and explained it, no one would discuss those type things with her, but she’d pieced it together. And now Harmony seemed to be having the same symptoms.

"Harmony, do you think, is it possible, that you could be . . . with child?" She kept her voice low.

Harmony’s eyes lit up as she turned back to Cordelia. "Do you really think I could be?"

Cordelia grimaced. Oh dear, here came another rapturous monologue on the joys of Riley. From what she’d seen, he wasn’t much of a catch so far, leaving poor Harm alone to face this.

"Harmony, honey, if you are, you’re going to have to tell your parents."

Harmony blanched, her fleeting joy forgotten. "Oh no, I can’t not yet. We have to wait until Riley returns."

Cordelia cast a glance at Harmony’s waist. Did she look a little plumper than before? She couldn’t quite tell. "Harmony, you can’t wait much longer, it will start to become apparent. You need to tell them now. You don’t want nasty rumors to start that you’ve gotten yourself in trouble."

Harmony clutched her arm. "Oh Cordy, I can’t tell them yet. Riley has to come back soon. Can you please get in touch with Graham and see if there’s word?"

"I’ll send a note, but I’m not promising anything. C’mon, let’s go for a walk, perhaps some fresh air will help you feel better." Cordelia linked arms with her friend and moved her firmly towards the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So the reports all look up to snuff? We should be in good shape for the final licensing application hearing?"

Wesley nodded. "Yes, Xander, you and Will have done a better job with the bookkeeping than I would have imagined. I should be able to balance out the accounts in no time. And we’re showing a decent profit already, more than I would have expected."

"Good to hear."

Wesley closed the last ledger and leaned back in his seat. "You’ve done an excellent job in securing clients here, both you and Will. And I do believe I see your affinity for this town you’ve adopted, Xander. It’s a lovely city, and the citizens seem quite friendly."

Xander smiled. "They’re people just like anywhere, Wes. We’ve had a bit of an easier time because they think Will’s got a title, and there are quite a few Anglophiles here. But, don’t be fooled by the pretty manners. They can be just as spiteful and mean, maybe more so. They have a rather elaborate system of social standing that would give the English bloodlines a run for their money."

Wesley laughed. "Yes, I did pick up on that when the charming lady at the dinner last night recounted half her lineage to me in her introduction. Nonetheless I’m finding the place quite charming. It’s a nice change of pace and the weather is delightful."

Xander crossed the last t on the report he’d been finishing and laid down his pen. "Well, that does it for me, are you ready to be off?"

"I am. We’re going to see this investigator you hired?"

"Yes, he sent word that he’d found some information that could be of use to us."

The pair locked up and wound their way to a small office in the back alley of a rundown area of the town.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Cordelia? A man done left a letter for you."

Cordelia took the note. "Thank you." She closed the bedroom door and began to read. Harmony looked over from where she was brushing out her long blond hair..

"Is that from Graham? What does he say?"

Cordelia waved her quiet as she began to pour over the note. Words and phrases leapt off the page at her, ‘illness, very serious, not expected to recover.’

"What does it say Cordelia?"

Cordelia carefully folded the note with a trembling hand and crossed to where her friend sat at the dressing table. "Harmony, I need for you to listen to me. You’ve got to hold yourself together, for Riley’s sake, do you hear me?"

Harmony turned paler. "What are you talking about, what’s wrong with him?" She grabbed the note away and read through the scrawled lines and then with a small sob, collapsed on the floor in a faint.

"Harmony? Harmony!" Cordelia rang the bell frantically for the servants. "Come quick, Miss Harmony has fainted."

She stood to the side as her friend’s corset was loosened and the doctor was called. After a brief examination that amounted to little more than holding a hand to her head and a glance in her eyes, he announced it to be a nervous condition and insisted Harmony had been overwrought with the rounds of parties that marked the holiday season. He proscribed bed rest.

Mrs. Wilkins drew Cordelia away as Harmony was dosed with laudanum and drowsed off again without coming to. "Cordelia, it was so good of you to stay through all of this, you were so very brave."

"I’m glad that I could help, Mrs. Wilkins, Harmony’s like my own sister. I just hope she’ll be alright." She glanced nervously at the still from on the bed. "I’d be happy to stay and sit with her, if you don’t mind."

"That is most kind of you, Cordelia. Thank you."

As she watched her friend sleep. Cordelia turned the contents of the note over and over in her head. If Riley was dying or likely dead by now, and Harmony was pregnant, it would cause a huge scandal. One that would probably come back to haunt her, since the liaison started while Harmony was her guest. What were they going to do?

Cordelia drummed her fingers. There was always Montgomery. Harmony had a bridegroom ready and waiting. But would it be soon enough to pass the child off as his? She counted back on her fingers. Riley had been gone for some time now. It might not be possible to fool Montgomery, and that would only make matters worse. The whole house of cards would come tumbling down.

Cordelia fretted as she watched Harmony sleep heavily under the effects of the drug. Maybe the solution was to just . . . make it go away. There were ways that one could get rid of babies, if a girl found herself in the family way without the benefit of marriage, potions of some sort that a girl could drink to bring on her monthlies. She’d heard of them, whispered behind fans. But where could she get them?

Those houses down by the docks, the one the men frequented that young ladies weren’t supposed to know about. They must know about that sort of thing. She’d wait until dark, disguise herself and sneak down there. Surely she’d be able to buy something that could take care of this one and for all. Then Harmony could go back to her normal life and forget about this crazy business with the solider and move on.

Not that she was happy that Riley had been struck down with a deathly illness. No, she wasn’t so cold-hearted as all that. But it did make everything simpler. William Montgomery might be a few years older, but he seemed to be rich as Croceus and hardly someone a girl would turn her nose up at. Harmony would get over this silly notion, before she caused them all a great deal of trouble, and everything would be fine.

At least that’s what she hoped would happen.

~~~~~~~~~

"So, Finch, what do you have for us?" Xander took the offered report and passed part to Wesley as they listened to the evidence that had been uncovered against Wilkins. Stories of other briberies for shipping permits and a few shady business deals. Much of it was useless, items so grey that they’d hardly been given a second look by the social set, and most of them involving one of more men that were now clients of Montgomery & Harris themselves. Simply evidence of business as usual.

"This is all you have? That’s all you could find?"

Finch nodded regretfully. "I’m sorry, that’s it."

Xander closed the file and fished out the promised payment for the research. "You do understand this project cannot be mentioned to anyone? That was part of our original understanding."

"Absolutely sir, not a peep."

The pair exited the office into the late afternoon sunlight.

"So that’s that, I suppose." Xander said. "I really thought he would find more."

"Do you think he was telling you the truth? You know what they say about not having smoke without fire."

"I know, I was sure we’d uncover something. But this," he gestured with the file, "is hardly the kind of ammunition Will needs. He needs something juicy, something that will cause the gossips to lick their chops over the scandal."

"Perhaps. But it appears the information won’t come from that source at least."

"So what do we do with this?"

Wesley shrugged, "We can give it a more careful perusal later, but ultimately it will be up to William if he wants to try to use it." He clapped Xander on the back. "You’ve done what you could Xan. It may be that all he needs to do is call this pillock’s bluff. After all, he hardly comes out looking stellar as a result of the arrangement himself. And if this Mrs. Crawford has left town as Anya mentioned, then he can hardly force William into the marriage now."

Xander nodded. "I know, Wes, but that’s the thing. William’s going to go after her, you know he will. He won’t be able to let it go."

"That is Will to a fault, he may not always think things through, but once he latches on to something, he’s tenacious. He’ll work it out Xander. Now, shall we go find more attractive companionship? I quite liked that Faith from the other night."

"An excellent suggestion." They turned and headed for Anya’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

Cordelia looked around nervously. She’d borrowed one of her mother’s veils and was wearing one of her plainer gowns for this trip. She hardly wanted to be mistaken for someone plying her trade in this area. She clutched her purse as a rather drunken man staggered by, caterwauling some tune off-key and shrank to the side. Now where was that street . . . ah yes, there was the sign.

She turned into the quieter side street and followed it to the house at the end. It wasn’t quite what she’d expected, no painted ladies hanging out the front windows enticing men into the den of sin. In fact, it looked almost respectable, neatly shuttered, well-landscaped.

She ducked back as two man walked past her and turned into the gate, up the walk and were admitted to the house. She caught just a small glimpse of the warm glow of the interior hall, painted a deep red. Ahh, that was more like it. Probably the whole house was that shade.

Did she go round to the side? Should she just go up to the front door like those men had? Cordelia paced back and forth for a moment as she gathered her nerve. Front door it would be. She hastily mounted the steps after a final glance around to ensure she wasn’t being observed and raised the heavy knocker.

"Welcome." The door swung open to reveal a brunette wearing a gown in a deep jewel tone which highlighted her creamy skin perfectly and showed just enough cleavage to make a man sit up and take notice. Cordelia felt a tiny twinge of jealousy. Her mother would never let her wear something quite that low cut, but if she did, she’d just knew she could get a proposal out of someone. Maybe that Parker Crawford, he had to be looking for a wife soon.

She pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand as the woman eyed her suspiciously. "Are you looking for someone?"

The directness threw Cordelia off a bit. "Madam Anya? Is she available?"

The brunette tilted her head slightly and looked her up and down. "Are you here about employment?"

"Employment? Here? No. No, no, no," Cordelia gasped quickly.

"Very well then." The woman began to shut the door.

"No, please wait. I do need to speak to Madam Anya, about another matter. Please." Cordelia knew she sounded rather desperate.

"Very well. Come in. I’m Madam Anya. We can speak in the parlor."

Cordelia tried to peep down the hallway, hoping just to glimpse as to what these places were all about, as all she’d seemed so far appeared awfully respectable. Maybe the tales of these places were just bogeyman after all. She seated herself on the couch as Anya indicated.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Oh, why yes, thank you, that would be quite nice."

"Very well then." Anya rang a bell and a girl clad in a flimsy wrapper that barely concealed the fact that she was wearing little more than a chemise brought in a tray containing a tea set.

"Is that all Anya? Don’t want to keep the gentlemen waiting."

"Yes, Faith, that’ll be all."

The woman named Faith winked at Cordelia and sashayed out of the room.

"Oh my."

Anya smiled. "Was that what you were expecting?" She busied herself with the tray. "Now, there are really only a very few reasons a young lady like yourself chooses to visit here. Why don’t you go ahead and tell me your story." She handed Cordelia the cup to occupy her.

"Alright. My name is . . . Jane, and I have a good friend who, well she’s in the family way."

"Yes, Jane, do go on."

Cordelia warmed to the story. "She’s married, really she is, but her husband, he’s a soldier. He was struck down with the fever. But their marriage was a secret and if her family finds out she’d going to have a child, she’ll have all kinds of trouble. They didn’t know of the marriage, and they want her to marry another man, who’s very well off."

She paused, surprised how much she was telling, but Madam Anya continued to nod understandingly.

"So you see, if there’s some way, that is, I’ve heard that there are ways, that it might be possible to not have the child. Is it? Is there some way?"

Anya studied her carefully for a moment. "There are ways, but they aren’t always foolproof and it may depend on how far along the girl is in the pregnancy. I’d need to know some additional information, but yes, I may be able to help."

Cordelia brightened. "Really? You could?"

Anya rose from her seat. "Why don’t you come with me to the back and we’ll see how far along you are."

"What?" Cordelia squawked. "It’s not me. I told you it’s a friend of mine."

"Yes, Jane, that’s what ladies who come to visit usually say. But it’s rarely their friends in trouble."

Cordelia’s eyes widened. "But I swear, it isn’t me."

Anya sighed. "Very well, then. You’ll need to bring your friend here. Otherwise I can’t help you."

"Alright. Tomorrow? Could we possibly come during the day? Perhaps near lunch time."

"That would be acceptable. Now, if you would excuse me, I need to return to my clients."

"Oh yes, of course." Cordelia rose hastily as if she’d forgotten precisely what sort of establishment she was in. "I’ll be off then and we’ll see you tomorrow."

She settled the veil back over her face as she slipped out into the night with a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been so bad, really. And Madam Anya seemed a decent sort, hardly the bawdy woman she’d been expecting. Maybe this would all work after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

"So you gave them the information I provided you?"

Finch nodded. "Harris seemed disappointed, but there was just enough there that he believed it. I think he’ll probably drop things now, he seemed to think there was nothing worth pursuing."

Wilkins smiled. "Excellent. Keep your ear to the ground if Montgomery or his partner make any further attempts to delve in places they shouldn’t. I have to say I’m glad to see William taking the initiative here though. He’s a sharp young man."

He rose from his seat. "Remember to keep me posted if you hear anything new."

"Yes sir." Finch slumped back in his seat as Wilkins departed, staring at the second payment of the day. Now this was the way to do business, double pay for no work at all.

Chapter 20

"Careful, Dawn, the dock’s a might slippery here."

Dawn accepted his hand as he helped her onto the dock, before letting him loose to help Willow and Tara down the precarious path as well.

The trip back from England had been unusually smooth sailing for the time of year and they had arrived in Boston a full day ahead of when they’d expected. The appointment with Miss Greenlee was for the next afternoon, and he had plans to make a few business calls the following morning. But for now, his only goal was to bundle everyone off to a hotel and reassure Dawn yet again.

She’d grown increasingly nervous on the crossing, vacillating from anticipation after a round of tales by Willow fondly recalling her school days, to abject terror at the thought of being left alone. As he hailed a carriage and oversaw getting the rather prodigious number of bags that now had Dawn’s name attached, he wondered if perhaps they’d been too hasty in sending her to this place. Although he didn’t doubt that she’d receive the finest of education here, acquire the polish she would need to move in society and be safe from the likes of Glory, he worried that, after the loss of her family and the turbulence of her life in Charleston before Buffy’s intervention, she was still too nervy to be on her own.

Not that he doubted Dawn’s pluck. The little mite had stood up to far more than he would have been able to at her age. He just hated to leave her so far from those who she’d come to think of as family.

Or maybe he just wasn’t ready to let her go. She’d grown dear to him, not just as a link to Buffy, but in her own right, as a sunny and personable young lady who was slowly blossoming under the attention of those around her. He watched as she chattered happily with Willow and Tara as they settled themselves in the carriage before he swung in and pounded the roof to let the driver know they were ready.

"So ladies, I find we have some spare time this afternoon with our early arrival. Miss Willow, would you care to visit your family? Or perhaps you have someone you’d like to see, Miss Tara?"

The two were quiet for a moment, then Willow shook her head. "Perhaps tomorrow, before we leave. With this being so unexpected, I’d best send a note before we come."

William acknowledged the refusal, knowing there was more there but choosing not to pry.

"Well then, whatever will we do with ourselves this afternoon?"

He cringed, waited for it, knew it was coming.

"William, can you take us shopping?" Dawn gave him the big eyes she’d figured out he was useless against and he found Willow and Tara had him pinned in a similar gaze, mischievous grins firmly in place.

"This carriage can barely make it through the streets, it’s so loaded down with baggage and you bought half of London. Could there actually be things you haven’t purchased?"

Willow ignored his mock growl. "Now, William, you wouldn’t want Dawn to not be properly attired for school, would you? It’s so important for girls of her age. And it’s not as though you can’t afford it, Lord Darlington."

"Fine, fine, you bints will be the death of me. Tell the driver where to go."

He briefly wondered when he’d become so very whipped as to give in to such demands, but as he was showered with praise by the three smiling girls, he had to admit it did have its perks. And perhaps he could get Willow to help him pick out a small token for Buffy.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harmony, are you ready?"

The blond haired girl delicately patted her nose again with the fine bit of linen that passed for a handkerchief. "Cordy, I’m not sure this is a good idea."

"Harmony, we’ve talked about this all morning. You need to know."

Harmony still lingered, pottering with her hairbrush. "You’re right Cordelia. You’re so very strong. Why can’t I be more like you?"

Tears looked as though they were about to well up in Harmony’s eyes and Cordelia took the initiative before she became to weepy to move. Today was the appointment with Madam Anya and Cordelia had gotten the impression she wasn’t someone to be kept waiting.

"There, there, quiet now. Your mother believes we’re going for a walk down at White Point for your constitution, if she sees you crying again she won’t let us go."

"Right." Harmony gave herself a final pat and followed Cordelia bravely out the door as they strolled along. Once they’d reached a quiet alley, Cordelia pulled her aside. "Now put this hat on and pull the veil down, and then put this around you." She pulled the cloak from the basket she’d carried as a pretext for possibly going to the market.

Adequately disguised, the pair made their way quietly through the back streets until they reached the neighborhood where Anya’s brothel stood, punctuated by only a few sniffs from Harmony along the way. When they reached the gates, Cordelia decided a small talk might be in order before they went in. She held Harmony’s shoulders and looked her squarely in the face.

"Now remember what we talked about. No real names. I told her I’m Jane."

Harmony broke in, "Jane? That’s so plain."

Cordelia resisted the urge to give her a little shake. "That’s the point, Harm. We don’t want to be memorable. What should we call you?"

Harmony crinkled her nose. "Umm, Melody?"

Cordelia couldn’t not groan, but she acquiesced. "Fine. Melody. Don’t forget it though."

"Alright."

"Now let me talk as much as possible. And don’t act all shocked by what you see, even if you are. We need this woman’s help."

Harmony’s eyes were like saucers by now. "Is it true what they say?"

"Harmony, I have no idea what they say."

"About the," her voice dropped even lower than the hushed tones they were using, "bawdy women here?"

Cordelia threw her hands up. "If they say they’re half naked and let men have their way with them, then yes, it’s true. But it’s the middle of the day, we should be fine. Come on Harm, we’re wasting time."

Harmony’s eyes were big as she followed her to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xander turned to Wesley as they exited the Planter’s Hotel. "Wes, did I give you the file, from yesterday?"

Wesley shook his head. "No, I haven’t seen it since last night."

"I meant to bring it to the office to lock in the safe until William returns." They walked along in silence again until Xander suddenly snapped his fingers. "Anya’s! I had it with me when we went there yesterday and I left it on her desk."

"Well, it should be fine then. Anya will put it aside for you."

"Yeah, I know."

They walked another block.

"Wesley, why don’t we stop and get it, I’d like to look through it again this afternoon, make sure we didn’t miss anything important."

Wesley shrugged. "Very well. She’s not far out of our way."

The two men turned in that direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And your name is?" Anya prompted the new girl who had accompanied Jane.

"M-melody."

"Very well, Melody, why don’t you tell me what brings you here."

Jane immediately intervened as Melody’s tears welled up again. Anya was starting to regret ever telling her to bring the girl here.

"She’s very emotional right now, could we just get on with things."

Anya nodded. "Very well, come with me, Melody. We’ll need to get you out of those things so that I can see how you’re doing alright?"

Melody looked hesitantly at Cordelia, who nodded and shooed her along as she followed behind. Anya noticed her shadowing them.

"Jane, why don’t you just wait in my office here, we won’t be but a few moments and your friend might be more comfortable." Anya gestured her into the small room and shut the door firmly behind her.

Cordelia started to protest, but slumped into the chair beside the desk instead. She’d done what she could. Now they’d just have to wait and see.

She took in the ledgers stacked on the polished walnut surface of the desk, the clear indications of a well-run business that looked much like her father’s at home. That was odd, she’d never really thought of a brothel as a business before, more a den of iniquity, really. She reached for the file on the corner just as
a sound outside the door caught her attention. She straightened back, not wanting to be caught snooping as the door swept open to reveal two men, one of whom Cordelia recognized as Xander Harris. Why, he was at the dinner party the Henderson family had held week before last. Talking to her father. She started to grab for her veil, but from his startled expression, he’d already recognized her as well.

She wasn’t sure whether she should try to run or faint from mortification. As they were blocking the door, she opted for the latter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Chase, Miss Chase?" A vial of smelling salts was waved on her nose and she found herself coming to in the arms of a strange man who regarded her with worried blue eyes.

"Yes?" she answered groggily as he picked her up and sat her gently in the larger chair behind Anya’s desk before kneeling at her feet and holding her steady.

"Are you alright? I’m afraid we must have given you a start bursting through the door in the manner we did."

"I’m fine." She looked at him more closely. Blue eyes, dark hair, lovely accent, who was he? "I’m sorry, have we met?"

He sprang back at the comment. "I am so deeply sorry, I fear we have not been properly introduced." He looked over at Xander Harris, who still stood in the doorway watching them in sort of a detached fascination, much as one might observe exotic animals in a zoo. He shook his head. "It’s something in the water. Or air. Maybe both."

The stranger gave him a glare and Harris straightened up. "Right then. Sorry. Miss Chase, it’s nice to see you again. May I introduce Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce? Mr. Wyndam-Pryce is with our London office and will be visiting in the city for some time." He then turned to Wesley. "And this of course is Miss Cordelia Chase. Her father is Richard Chase."

Mr. Wyndam-Pryce smiled down on her. "Ah, I had the pleasure of meeting your father recently, Miss Chase." As Cordelia paled, he realized her discomfort. "Not that I would of course mention our meeting here, were I to see him again."

She breathed a sigh of relief until the next question followed from Mr. Harris. "Speaking of, precisely what is a lady like yourself doing here, Miss Chase?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya helped the young girl refasten her gown, as she was clearly unused to performing such tasks on her own. Part of her wanted to laugh at the rich, spoiled thing in front of her, who would have crossed to the other side of the street had she seen her coming on the main thoroughfare. But there was something so genuine in how excited the girl had been when she’d confirmed that she was indeed expecting and was in fact quite far along. This was not a woman who was interested in parting with her child. But something had driven her to this point.

"Melody, why don’t you tell me the real story."

As she babbled on about her Riley and their forbidden love, Anya couldn’t help but feel a little admiration. There was clear devotion on her part to this solider, probably unfounded, but she seemed so sure of him.

"And then Father made this contract to have me marry that Montgomery fellow. And he’ll be back soon and I don’t know what to do.

The words registered and Anya stopped her and gripped her arm tightly. "What did you just say?"

Melody backpedaled. "Nothing, I’m sorry, I said too much."

Anya kept her grip and pulled the girl along. "I think we need to go have a talk with your friend." She opened her office door to find Jane in panicked conversation with Xander and Wesley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So let me see if I have this straight, just to be sure." Wesley took a deep breath. "Harmony, you married this Riley last summer, in a ceremony before a minister, in Savannah. And you have a marriage license?"

She nodded.

"But he’s been reported ill or possibly dead?"

Harmony whimpered. "I haven’t heard from him in more than a month now."

"And now your father’s engaged you to marry William Montgomery?"

At the final nod, Wesley looked at Anya and Xander, who gave an answering smile.

"Would you ladies mind waiting here a moment for us?"

The three moved quickly into the hallway.

"Did you hear what she just said? She’s already wed, William has no problems now. There’s no way Wilkins can defame him of Buffy, he wouldn’t dare," Anya squealed.

Wesley shook his head. "It does appear we’ve found just what we needed, in a rather roundabout way. But there’s one problem."

Xander nodded. "We need to find this Riley and this wedding certificate. Without them, the case is less solid."

Anya waived that notion away. "Please, Xander she’s pregnant. She’ll be big as a house in a few months."

Xander nodded. "And with no Riley around, what’s to stop Wilkins from insisting William got her in the family way? He’s whispered around the engagement to a select few already, it would be enough to make the rumor plausible."

"So we really need this Riley?"

"I believe we do." Wesley turned to his friend. "Are you up for a little trip, Xander?"

"Yes I am. We’ll get direction to the plantations where he’s supposed to be and we’ll be off."

Anya stopped them "What should I tell the girls?"

"I’d tell them everything. They’re very much a part of this, and the more they cooperate, the better." Xander assured her, "We’ll be back in a few days. Take care, Anya."

He and Wesley bustled out the door and into the sunlight. "So, Miss Chase, huh?" Xander commented off hand, as they turned towards the military encampment to find the soldier, Graham.

Wesley blushed just a bit. "She seemed like quite a nice girl."

Xander laughed. "Wesley’s smitten. I knew it was just a matter of time."

~~~~~~~~~~~

"And he’s in love with Elizabeth Crawford? That’s so romantic. If I’d have only known, it’s almost as romantic as my sweet Riley and I eloping."

Anya thrust a fresh handkerchief at her. "Yes, indeed. Now listen carefully, both of you. Go home quietly. I’ll have a maid, her name is Winifred, come and bring a message to you as soon as we hear about Riley. If he’s had the swamp fever, there’s a good chance he’ll be alright. It’s far milder this time of year, unlike in the summer months. But it takes a toll, so he might just have lacked the strength to travel, yet."

"You really think so?"

"I do."

Cordelia rose. "We’d best be going Harmony." She was still a little shaky from the events of the afternoon, from the meeting of the dashing Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, to the unfolding of the tangled web that had enveloped them all over the last few months. If they could find Riley, perhaps everything could work out.

"Thank you again, Madam Anya, for your help. Do we . . ." She opened her purse hesitantly.

Anya waved her away. "Think nothing of it. In a roundabout way, you’ve provided a great service to a good friend of mine with your news."

Cordelia carefully sat her hat on her head and adjusted the veil before turning at the door. "I . . .I’m not sure how to say this, but you’re not what I expected."

Anya smiled. "Neither are you. Perhaps we should both try to remember that in the future."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy looked at the piles of essays in front of her and reached instead to pour another cup of tea. The last few weeks as she’d settled in at Miss Greenlee’s had been trying, but she was slowly settling in, she thought.

And at least she had little time to ruminate on her decision.

She idly stirred sugar into the cup. Well, except for nights like these, when she was alone in the room she’d been assigned, with nothing but some papers and a good book to keep her company.

She supposed she could have gone and joined in with some of the other instructors, but the few times she’d tried, she found herself becoming nostalgic for home. When she would be curled by the fireplace, listening to Willow’s bright chatter or Tara’s soft laugh. And then perhaps William would arrive, bringing Dawn with him. They’d settle quietly down and she’d listen to him talk about his day as the fire burned down and the shadows grew longer.

And then . . . she should stop this train of thought. Because then her remembrances always seemed to shift a little away from well-impressed reality to the fanciful notions of what might have been but never would. A future where the house was no longer hers, but theirs, peopled with those near and dear to them, a home. Their home. Where she was his wife.

Tomorrow was the day Dawn was to arrive. Miss Greenlee had alerted her this morning. And that meant William would be here as well. She’d given it a great deal of thought and determined the safest, no, the wisest course of action would just be to make herself absent until he departed. It might be cowardice on her part, but she simply didn’t think she could withstand the pleading she’d seen in his eyes the day they’d left. Not this time.

She pulled the first essay towards her and began to read carefully, blocking out the thoughts that just made her angry and a little bitter. It was all in the past. That door was closed, by choice. She could have stayed in Charleston, perhaps even convinced herself to carry on some pale imitation of a relationship with him. She wasn’t fool enough to think he would have stayed away or that she would have resisted him forever.

But she would have grown to hate him for it. So this was her here and now, a small fire, a cozy room, a quiet night. Her well worn copy of Jane Eyre ready for another read when she settled in for the night. She’d never had such appreciation for Jane as she did now.

It would have to be enough.

Chapter 21

Anya suppressed a weary sigh as the last of the night’s clientele exited in the dark of the small hours of the morning. It was a relatively early evening for the house as it was mid-week. But she was exhausted none the less, from the revelations and drama of earlier in the day, to that unruly Parker Crawford who had to be watched like a hawk. He’d asked for Katie tonight, a good girl, always did her job, but left complaining he’d received inferior service.

Anya blew out the last lamp and started back down the hallway to her bedroom. She’d deal with it tomorrow.

For tonight, she just wanted to unlace the layers of steel and bone that were binding her ribs, slide into her cool nightshift, and fall into bed. And not think about Xander being gone.

It was odd, that. He’d become nearly a constant in her life since she’d met him, first with his relentless attempts to attract her attention, and then with his quiet and gentle courtship. Undemanding but persistent.

Almost too undemanding. To the point of frustration. She set the lamp down by her bed side and began loosening the fastenings on her dress. She’d appreciated his early reticence, the way he asked her if she’d like to bring one of the other girls alone as a chaperone when he took her for buggy rides, a fact that had Faith howling almost on the floor at the thought. A whore serving as the watchdog for another whore’s virtue.

It was indeed a ludicrous thought, but something about it had warmed her, slowly convincing her that things could be different with him, that he might just be able to, as the old saying went, make an honest woman of her yet. And though she was loathe to admit it, although she often railed at the "nice" ladies of the town who found her inferior, she sometimes wondered what it would be like to be respectable. Not poor white trash Anya Jenkins.

Despite that, there were times when they were alone that she wished he’d just abandon this notion of protecting her virtue so much and forget himself for once. She used to be able to bring men to their knees, to leave them worn out and gasping and overwhelmed with passion. She’d become was the highest paid girl in the house within weeks of starting and had fast been taken on as a mistress, removed from the necessity of servicing an ever-evolving clientele of men. Didn’t she still have it?

For Xander seemed mostly immune to her charms - or at least had the power to resist them. He’d give her a chaste kiss, hold her hand, all the things she assumed proper folks did when they were courting. But never more than that, other than the looks he gave her. They were enough to set her on fire, smoldering passion dancing behind his eyes that let her know that there was indeed a spark burning between them, he was just keeping it tamped down for the moment.

Anya slid her nightdress over her head and blew out the candle. Knowing that he’d left town just intensified the ache and loneliness and made her face the reality that in spite of her best intentions, she was hopelessly gone for Alexander Harris. She punched her pillow a few times for good measure to conform to her head and tried to settle in to sleep.

Tap, tap. Tap, tap.

She started awake. What was that? She fumbled with nervous fingers to light the lamp, but dropped the match before she could get a spark. Cursing silently she tiptoed to the window to find Xander outside, grinning.

She raised the sash quickly. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled and pulled himself to clamber over the sill. "Came to see you, saw you’d already locked up for the night."

He turned and shut the window and pulled the curtains back into place, leaving the room dark again.

She spoke to his back. "I thought you were leaving town?"

"We were. Took us all day before we finally tracked this Graham character down. They were out at the fort. We took the lad out, bought him a few drinks and he loosened his tongue."

"And?"

"Miss Cordelia was right, the good old army’s already written the boy off. They’re afraid to send someone upriver for fear they’ll bring back the fever to the barracks. This Finn apparently went further in than the plantation he was supposed to be staying at, and the last the owner had heard was a message that Finn was on his deathbed."

"So are you still going?"

Xander nodded. "Likely he had the marriage certificate with him, Graham’s already looked through his personal effects here and couldn’t find it. We’ll no doubt be needing that. And if he’s still alive, that poor girl’s going to need a father for her babe."

Anya couldn’t help but smile a little. Xander likely to present a tough, no nonsense exterior much of the time, but he was loyal to a fault with his friends and had a soft streak she’d seen on more than one occasion.

He stepped forward and she was suddenly aware of their surroundings and the intimacy of the situation. She reached out a hand and found his arm in the near dark. "So why did you come here tonight?"

"Because I realized there was some chance, however slight, I might not come back. And I couldn’t leave without asking you something. I think we’ve waited long enough."

The low intensity in his voice as he said those words had her heart rate accelerating and she started to lift her night rail eagerly before he stopped her.

"No, Anya wait."

She paused as she sat at the edge of the bed confused, and watched him pace nervously in front of her.

"See, I haven’t ever done this before, and I’m not quite sure how to start."

She couldn’t stop the giggle. "Xander, don’t be silly. Of course you have." She reached for his arm. "And even if you’ve forgotten, I’m sure we can refresh your memory very quickly."

He dropped to his knees with a chuckle and caught her face in his hands. "That’s why I love you Anya. You’re so straightforward and to the point. There’s no subterfuge or second guessing with you. You just say what you think."

She knew he’d said quite a mouthful there but her mind had frozen on his opening line. That’s why I love you. That’s why I love you. That’s why I love you.

He loved her?

"Anya?"

She slowly regained her focus. "Yes?"

"Did you hear me?" His face looked a little frightened, with that wrinkle he seemed to get in his brow when he was earnest about something.

"No, what Xander?"

"Will you marry me? I know that there are things we need to work out, but I . . ."

She was lucky her initial whoop didn’t wake the whole household. Or her other exclamations as Xander soon lost his inhibitions about preserving her virtue as she exercised her powers of persuasion on him.

When he finally left her bed as the sun began to rise, yawning mightily, she pulled him back for one final tight embrace.

"Hurry back?"

"You know I will. I have something to come back for."

She flopped back on the pillows as he quietly let himself out, the biggest grin of her life plastered on her face as she admired the sparkle of the beautiful ruby ring Xander had placed on her finger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy watched as the chattering girls filed from the classroom. The clock on the wall had just chimed noon, and she had a few free hours before the afternoon poetry class she was to assist with. Enough time to leave the small campus and avoid any unwanted run-ins with certain individuals. She hurried back to her room to gather her hat and gloves. Perhaps a visit to the little bookstore, see if there was anything new in that could occupy her time.

She’d almost made it to the rear gate when she heard the voice of one of the other staff call her name.

"Buffy? I’m awfully sorry to have to ask, but Ellen isn’t feeling quite up to par, she needs to go lay down for a bit. Could you take rose garden duty today?"

She sighed. "Of course. Let me go get a book to read." The rose garden was a lovely small nook at the rear of the campus, but it had a gate that led out into the city, so during the girls’ free periods, a teacher routinely held post there to make sure the more enterprising types didn’t sneak off campus to wander around the town. Buffy was more than aware of this, as she’d used that particular exit on more than one occasion herself. As she turned back to her room to fetch her book, she resigned herself to the change in plans. At least it was secluded, she was unlikely to run into anyone unexpectedly there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miss Greenlee gestured to the seats in front of her large desk and settled herself comfortably in her chair.

"Mr. Montgomery, you come with the highest of references from some of my dearest former pupils. And Dawn, I’ve heard strong praise for you as well. You’ve been dealt an unusual situation in life, but you’ve shown strong character."

The thin girl whose eyes had been darting nervously around the well-appointed office dared to peek at her for the first time. "Thank you ma’am."

"Now I understand that your educational opportunities up to this point have been sporadic. We’ll be working to remedy that, I’ve arranged for a special tutor for you for the time being. But you must promise me that you’ll work very hard to catch up with the others."

Dawn darted a look at William, who nodded encouragingly. "Yes ma’am. Of course I will."

Miss Greenlee nodded approvingly. "Very well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and fetch the older pupil who’ll be your tutor."

She gave the pair a glance as she quietly closed the door, knowing the girl needed a bit of reassurance from the older man. She’d looked pale, but resolved. It was good to see the little thing had pluck. Miss Greenlee determined she’d have to keep a close watch on this little chick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How’re you holding up there?"

Dawn’s smile was a little wavery. "Alright. It’s just different."

"How about I make you a promise? You try this place for six weeks. If it doesn’t suit, we’ll bring you back. You can go to school in Charleston, and the wagging tongues be damned. We’ll give you some exotic background, let you make it up yourself. You can be my little sis who’s been secreted away in a nunnery, how about that?"

Her smile grew a little firmer.

"That’d be good."

"But you have to give this a try, alright? You’re a Montgomery now, and we don’t quit."

"I won’t." She surprised him then by coming over and enveloping him in a hug. "Thank you William. For everything."

He patted her back awkwardly, his heart strangely moved. If anyone had suggested he’d have been fostering strays who wormed their way into his heart when he’d left England to come to the States, he’d have insisted they were lunatics. But he wouldn’t change this now for the world.

"There, there, bit. Dry your eyes. I don’t think Miss Greenlee will be too impressed by your tears." She sat back down, dabbing away with her new embroidered handkerchief as she tried to remove the evidence of her tears. "And I expect regular letters on how things are going, you must keep me up to date."

She nodded. "Will you write me back? Tell me how Buffy and the others are doing?"

"Absolutely."

The door opened then and the pair turned to see Miss Greenlee standing with another girl. "Dawn, this is Katherine. She’s in her final year and she’s agreed to be your tutor for the next few months until the term ends. She’ll also show you around and introduce you to the other girls."

Dawn stood nervously and turned to William. "I’ll have the first letter in the mail tomorrow."

"I’ll be looking for it."

She followed the other girl into the hallway then, and he was happy to hear a soft chatter begin between them as Miss Greenlee closed the door.

"I understand that you are somewhat unsure if this is the right choice for Dawn, Mr. Montgomery. Katherine will be able to relate, I believe, she’s one of our scholarship students, and a kind girl. Dawn should soon feel at home."

"I’m certainly relieved to hear that."

Miss Greenlee straightened the papers on her desk. "We’ve drawn up the final papers for you to review and sign. Of course we’ll keep you updated on Dawn’s progress and you may visit at any time. We try to discourage families from having students leave for visits in the middle of terms, so as to not disrupt their studies."

He began to read the papers she handed him, nodding absently. "I can understand that, it was much the same at my school."

"Mr. Montgomery, might I be so bold as to ask why you are fostering this girl?"

He raised his head, surprised by the straightforwardness of the question. "There are a number of reasons Miss Greenlee. But I suppose that at heart I initially agreed because a dear friend asked me to, and since then I’ve come to realize what a special girl Dawn is. She deserves better and I have the means to grant her that. Nothing more."

"And would this dear friend be Mrs. Crawford?"

Her tone and inflection in how she said it almost caused him to drop the papers. The old bat had a twinkle in her eye now, and he wondered just what she was getting at here. "Mrs. Crawford did in fact request my assistance with Dawn, but I assure you, Miss Greenlee, that I hold her in the highest regard."

"Funny, that’s exactly what she said about you."

He felt a glow of pride at the compliment until he mulled the comment. "Have you spoken with Miss Buffy?"

Miss Greenlee nodded. "She’s recently arrived in Boston and taken a position here."

"She’s what?"

Miss Greenlee feigned confusion that didn’t fool him a bit. "Oh, she must not have had time to inform you due to your journey. Well, I’m sure you’ll want to see her before you leave. Since you both hold each other in such high regard."

There was definitely a twitch of a smile on her lips. William found the signature line, scrawled his endorsement and handed the papers back. "There, those look fine. Where is she Miss Greenlee?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was a sight for sore eyes. The afternoon sunlight illuminated her face as she tipped back her head beneath the brim of the hat she wore, like a rose opening its petals for the sun. He stopped for a moment at the opening to the small garden, content to simply see her again in the flesh, after the weeks past of fevered dreams about her presence. Or about how he would approach her, with the ring he now carried in his pocket that was a family heirloom of the Darlingtons.

He refused to think about why she was here, not in Charleston. Why she’d fled while he was away. Because he was going to change her mind.

Her eyes were closed but she must have heard his footsteps as he started forward.

"Halt, who goes there," she called out, a small grin on her face as she rose to deal with the sneaky schoolgirls seeking to slide out.

And then she stopped cold as she realized who was before her. "William? How did you . . . ."

He stepped forward smoothly, caught her elbow and guided her back to the bench where she’d been seated. "Miss Greenlee told me where to find you. Seemed to think you might want to see me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was here. Right in front of her. Holding her hand.

She fought to hide the tremble as she slid her hand away, needing to put distance between him and her and gain some sort of control over her emotions. It had been easy to leave, to slip away when he was gone, to avoid scenes and good-byes and the impassioned pleas that she saw in his eyes. But to have to do it here, now, with him sitting so close, every bit of her body longing for him with an intensity she thought she’d conquered? She wasn’t sure it was possible.

She bit her lip, almost drawing blood as she steeled herself to look into his eyes. She hated to do this, but it was the only way. She squared her shoulders and turned to him.

"It’s good to see you again, Mr. Montgomery. What an unexpected surprise."

The formality in her tone caught him off guard. "Yes, I’ve brought Dawn."

That must have sounded as stiffly formal and obvious in his head as it did aloud as he cleared his throat and tried again. "Buffy, I’ve been thinking a great deal about you."

She smiled politely. "That’s most kind of you to say."

He carried on. "And I know now that I erred in my pursuit of you and . . ."

She stood abruptly, cutting off the impromptu speech. "Mr. Montgomery, I accept your apology. I too have reflected on our indiscretion. I apologize if I might have misled you as to the notion that I nursed some grand passion for you. You owe me no obligation, though your efforts to preserve my good name speak highly of you. I believe it would be best if we just put the incident behind us."

She turned to walk away. He rose swiftly, turning her back to face him as he pulled them further into the shade of an arbor that shielded them partially from the possibility of passersby.

"No, Buffy. You can’t dismiss what we have between us that simply. I won’t let you. I know that I made a mistake. I’ve made a right cock-up of all this. I never expected to fall in love with you, never knew how that could change things."

Her heart twisted with his declaration, knowing that those words would be things she’d treasure in the days ahead. But they weren’t going to change her decision. Carrying on a relationship with him would only cause heartache and sorrow, haunted by gossip and speculation. She couldn’t love another woman’s husband.

She smiled and he relaxed a bit, though he refused to let her go. Taking a deep breath she sought to keep her voice firm. "William, there’s the problem. I don’t love you."

If she’d punched him, he might have had less reaction. His face twisted and he seized her shoulders. "Buffy, don’t lie to me. You wouldn’t have gone to bed with me if you didn’t care."

She pushed him away, needing space. "William, I’m sorry. Truly I am. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I . . . I wanted to know what it was like with another man. My husband wasn’t kind in that regard. You were. But it was nothing more. If I misled you, I am deeply sorry."

She almost broke at the look in his eyes then, the disenchantment and pain that so readily appeared. He stepped away from her. "Do you really mean that? That you don’t care . . . don’t love me?"

She held his gaze. "I’m sorry, William."

He nodded once, his eyes frozen and cold now. "Very well them. Mrs. Crawford, I’m sorry for troubling you. Good day."

He walked out of the garden without a backward glance. Her knees gave out then, as he disappeared from view around the hedge, and she sank to the ground. She’d done the right thing. She knew she had in her mind. Her heart simply needed to be quiet.

William opened the door to the suite and stormed inside towards the privacy of his room. He needed a moment, just a moment, he assured himself, to get his emotions back under control. The cool way she’d treated him, the clear dismissal, and worst of all the calm denial that she’d ever cared for him had cut him to the bone.

If she’d been more vehement in her rejection, more full of the fire he knew lurked beneath the calm exterior she showed to the world, he might have questioned her sincerity. But her calm dismissal of what had passed between them had crumbled the foundations of the castles he now knew were built on air.

And their demise left him feeling empty and numb. There was anger in there, a part of him that wanted to go back and take her in his arms, kiss her senseless and force her to acknowledge there was something between them. But the numbness at her rejection overrode that crazy notion.

So he’d do what he’d always done in the past when life disappointed him. He’d take a moment, get himself together, and push on. No looking back. He wasn’t going to beg and plead and be her lap dog. A part of him knew that there was fault on both sides in this, he should have been up front with her from the beginning about the arrangement with Harmony. But if he had, they’d have never come to this place at all, she’d have never let him in to start with. And if she’d never let him in, he’d never have realized how much he loved her. Which brought it all back around in a confusing circle.

A circle he wasn’t going to think about now. There’d be time in the coming nights to ponder this further. Right now, he needed to move on or he’d be a crying nancy boy in moments.

He’d almost made it into his room when the rustle of skirts emerging from the other bedroom connected to the small sitting area alerted him that he wasn’t alone.

"William, you’re back! Did you get Dawn settled? Did she like the school?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. Best to just answer Willow’s question, get it over with. He focused on keeping his voice steady. "She’s fine. Seems to be taking to the place. Miss Greenlee had an older girl picked out, she’ll tutor Dawn and whatall. She’s promised to write to us, give us updates. I think she’ll be happy once she’s had a few days to settle into the place."

"That’s wonderful." Tara’s quieter tone carried across the room. He knew the smartest thing to do was just to get away from them right now, before they probed and prodded and made him talk. He really didn’t want to talk.

Except he had to know. He turned around. "Did you know she was going to be there? Did you?"

The blank look on their faces answered his question. At least he wasn’t the only one she’d left in the dark. "Never mind."

But he’d piqued their curiosity and they were hot on his heels now, drawing him back to perch on the mostly ornamental sofa, flanked by two determined females.

"William, what’s going on, who did you see? Miss Greenlee?"

"Yes, that’s who I saw." He changed the subject abruptly. "Would it be possible for you to be packed up so that we could leave this evening? I’ve arranged to meet with the Chesterfields in an hour and I have no other appointments here. I though we might make an earlier start back, if that’s alright with both of you."

The two girls exchanged brief, but amused, glances.

"Eager to get back to Buffy?" Willow smiled at him and was startled as the vehemence in his reply.

"No." He rose and headed for the door, but they were quick as a hound after a hare.

"William, wait, what’s happened?" Willow caught his arm as he reached the door.

He shrugged. Best get it over with, they’d find out soon enough. "Buffy’s here, she’s taken a position at Miss Greenlee’s."

It was clear this turn of events was as confusing to Willow and Tara as it was to him.

"She’s teaching here? When did she arrive?" Tara asked.

"Not long ago. We had a little chat, she made it clear that she intended to stay here and that’s that." His jaw clenched tightly as he kept his emotions under control. "Now I’d best be off."

"William, no wait a minute." Willow laid a hand on his arm again, and he stood foolishly between them. "Buffy has a tendency to get frightened and I’m sure running away up here was something she’ll know was a mistake, if you just tell her how you feel. You can explain everything to her, just like you planned. It’s just a lover’s quarrel."

He laughed then, a sharp, hoarse bark that was devoid of mirth. "I don’t have to tell her Willow. She was very clear on her feelings for me."

"And what were those?" He was surprised that she’d had the voice to ask him, but the fairer of the pair that had him cornered was watching him with her big eyes, sure there was a happy ending hidden in there somewhere.

"She doesn’t care for me, doesn’t . . .love me."

"No William, don’t say that, Buffy’s just being stubborn. Let me go and visit with her, talk to her. I know she’ll come around if she only hears everything you’ve done and are doing to make things right"

He shook his head. "Just leave it be, please Willow. She made her choice, I won’t try to change it." He looked her square in the eye. "Promise me you won’t go talk to her."

He noted the stubborn look on her face and added a plea. "Willow, please. Don’t go to her. Perhaps we’re better off this way, before we hurt each other any more."

It was easy to see he was lapsing into quite a funk before their eyes. Willow and Tara exchanged a silent glance behind his back.

"Very well, William. We won’t talk with her, you have our word. And we’ll see to getting things packed here and moved to the ship. We’ll see you there this evening."

He clasped one of each of their hands loosely in his. "Thank you both. You’ve been kind to listen. Let’s not speak of this again."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Willow headed for their room to gather outerwear and hats for them both, her eyes sparkling in the way they did when she had an idea. Tara followed more slowly. "Willow, you promised William that you wouldn’t speak to Buffy. We aren’t going to see her, are we?"

"No, I gave him my word. No talking to Buffy. We’re going to do something even better."

Tara eyed her suspiciously. "Willow, what are you planning?"

Willow raised her hand as though to waive away the concern in Tara’s voice. "I know Buffy when she gets like this, stubborn as a mule and no amount of persuasion from us will change her mind. She’s convinced herself she has to be out of his way. Don’t you see Tara? That means she really does love him."

Tara looked perplexed. "She left because she loved him?"

"Exactly. If she hadn’t cared, she would never had felt she needed to run away. She’d afraid of him, of what he can make her feel. After Angel, she didn’t want anyone to make her feel again. But William has. We can’t allow her to ignore that, Tara, to run away from true love."

Tara nodded slowly, still skeptical. "I see that. But how will you convince her to come back to Charleston? Should we go convince William to try speaking with her again?"

Willow shook her head, a devious glint in her eyes. "He’s as bad as Buffy in his own way. No, the better solution is to force them to talk things out, clear the air. And where’s a better place to do that than on a voyage at sea? They can’t ignore each other then."

Tara finished tying her bonnet strings as they closed the door to the suite. "Willow, you promised not to speak with her. Besides, Buffy’s not going to agree to come back with us."

"Oh, I know. We’re just not going to give her the choice." Willow’s grin turned impish as she watched Tara’s eyes widen as she realized just exactly what was in the works.

"Why Miss Rosen, are you planning what I think you’re planning?"

Willow giggled. "Yes, Miss McClay, I am. We’re about to become kidnappers."

~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon classes had dragged by and Buffy was relieved when the clock finally reached the point where Mrs. Bishop dismissed the group. She felt drained, as though all the things that made life sparkle had suddenly gone. She should go find Dawn, she must be here now, but she needed to pull herself together before that.

Maybe a bit of a lie-down would help. She hated to think she was sulking in her room over this, but her nerves were on edge, her mind replaying over and over again the confrontation in the garden. What would she have done if he’d called her bluff, taken her in his arms and kissed her senseless? Begged her to come back, to be his? She was so pathetic. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to refuse, she’d almost gone after him as it was.

She heard a knock out in the common room that served as the sitting area for the teachers who shared the small cottage with her and the attendant sound of someone answering the door. Then a knock sounded at her door. She rose and straightened her skirts as she went to open it.

"Elizabeth, there’s a gentlemen here with a note, says it’s urgent."

She took the folded piece of paper and saw familiar handwriting, Tara’s careful precise script. Her eyes scanned the page. Willow taken very ill, please, can you come help?

She hurried out to find the man she vaguely remembered from William’s ship sitting and waiting. "Mr. Clement?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Miss Willow, is she alright?"

He shook his head. "I don’t rightly know ma’am, Miss Tara, she just came up and asked if I could bring that note to you, she seemed all kind of concerned."

"Have they summoned a doctor? Or her family?"

"I’m sorry ma’am, she just asked if I would hurry and find you. She said you’d know what to do."

"Well, wait just a moment, let me get my things." She hurried in and gathered her wrap and purse, snatched up a blanket.

"Ellen, I’ll be back in a bit, my cousin’s taken ill and I must go see to her." The other woman nodded and Buffy hurried out with Clement.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"They said they’d be in the captain’s cabin I believe, ma’am."

They had reached the ship in record time, the stately Anne that floated in the harbor. There was much bustling and loading about it, but she ignored the confusion, intent of getting aboard. He was likely to be there, must have told Tara she was here, but she’d cross that bridge later. Her stomach twisted at the thought of Willow being ill.

She remembered where the captain’s cabin was, where she’d had her little heart to heart with William so many weeks ago and she knocked softly at the door before pushing it open. The room was empty, save for a bundle curled under the blankets on the bunk in the corner.

She hurried across the room. "Willow, are you . . ."

And then she heard the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finn? He’s at a farm about another half day up the river. I wondered when they were going to send someone after him. The boy’s taken pretty bad, last I heard."

"That’s what we’d been told. Mr. Randolph, I thought he was to come stay here with you?" Wesley asked the lanky man as they stood on the small river dock.

Randolph nodded. "He did, for the first bit. But making bricks is hardly a scintillating activity." He smiled. "Once he was satisfied that the operations were proper, he said he was going to scout out the area, make some new maps of the swamp region up river."

"And that’s where he was taken ill?"

Randolph nodded.

Xander spoke. "Would you be able to give us directions to the cabin where he was staying?"

"I should be able to, he lodged up there with the Fosters, they aren’t too hard to find."

Randoph paused, "If I might ask, you two don’t appear to be with the U.S. Army. Why are you so set on finding Finn?"

"His wife is a friend of ours and she just found out she was expecting. When we heard of his illness, she asked us to try to find him."

His face softened as he listened to their story. "I didn’t know Finn had a wife, poor thing. Well I expect she’ll be wanting his kit he left here as well."

Wesley and Xander exchanged glances. "Yes, that’d be wonderful. Do you still have it?"

"Sure, come up to the house with me and we’ll get it."

They strolled from the dock up towards the large home that graced the swell of a hill, chatting about the latest news in Charleston, where Randolph kept a home, and the business interests he had there. He was clearly intrigued by the new option they offered in the local shipping community.

"Would you care to stay the night and make a fresh start in the morning? It’s getting late in the day, you wouldn’t be able to reach the Fosters before nightfall."

Wesley and Xander exchanged a glance. They didn’t wish to delay, but Randolph’s suggestion made sense.

"That would be most hospitable of you."

"Excellent, I’ll have you shown to your rooms and Finn’s kit brought to you. We’ll have a causal supper and I look forward to talking with you more."

He excused himself and they were led to their rooms. Within moments, a dark skinned girl appeared at the door and handed them the bundle of Finn’s belongings. Wesley rapidly flipped through the papers and found what he was searching for quickly.

"He did carry it with him." He held up the marriage certificate in triumph. "Dated and witnessed." He eyed the paper. "So do we head back? Or go on after him? This is sufficient for what we need."

Xander looked at the paper. "You know, it may seem like a wild goose chase, but I think we should go. I can’t say I hold a great deal of love for the Wilkins family in my heart, but she seemed to really be quite taken with this boy. I know Harmony’d like to know for sure how he is, and what it means for her and the child."

Wesley nodded. "So we’ll push on in the morning?"

"I think so." He smiled. "Am I turning into a sentimental fool, Wes?"

Wesley chuckled. "I’ve heard love will do that to a man."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy whirled to the door. And then looked again at the bed. She marched across to the bundle of blankets and pulled back the covers with a flourish to reveal nothing more than a mound of blankets and pillows.

Her shriek would have been heard back to Boston if the Anne hadn’t been such a well-built ship.

She retreated back to the door, trying the handle which refused to give, then pounding on the unforgiving wood in frustration. "William! You’d best let me out of here now."

But there was no sound from the other side of the door. She paced back and forth, her fury increasing with every step. How dare he do this? Trick her into coming on board ship and locking her in his cabin. Did he really think she’d be more inclined to talk with him now?

And then it hit her and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Was he planning to take her back to Charleston? Just cart her off like, like some sort of cargo? Had she ever thought she loved this scheming, nefarious . . . pirate?

She bit her lip so hard she drew blood as her eyes narrowed and she paced back to the door. She might not be able to get out it now, but he’d best watch his step when he came through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

William made it back to the ship with only moments to spare before the tide began to change and they needed to draw anchor and begin the voyage. He’d sent a final note to Dawn, and included a little extra pocket change for her first bit of allowance, and then, ignoring the pull to go back and try to plead his case with Buffy one last time, he bade Boston farewell.

The crew offered him some strange looks as the flurry of leaving port went on around him, but he ignored them as he headed to his cabin. Clem would have everything under control, and all he wanted was a stiff drink and time to himself. He thought briefly about finding Willow and Tara, but dismissed the idea. They’d likely want to chat more, and he just wasn’t up to it at the moment.

He found the door to his cabin locked from the outside, an unusual occurrence, but he shrugged, turned the large key and unlocked the door as he swung it open to find himself with an armful of very angry Buffy.

"You bastard." She slapped his face and tried to wriggle around him as he stood planted in the doorway. He caught her just as one of the sailors rounded the corner and gawked at the pair in the doorway. William glared and shut the door behind them as he lifted her back into the cabin for privacy. He still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but he intended to find out.

"Let me go." She squirmed again against him, her voice laced with venom.

He finally found his voice. "Buffy? What are you doing here?"

She gave up the struggle for the moment as she hissed at him, "Oh, that’s most amusing, Mr. Montgomery. You trick me, kidnap me, and then want to know why I’m here? Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, let me off this ship?"

He stared at her, chest heaving from her exertions, hair falling down for that prim little hairstyle that must be her teacher look, and all he wanted to do was kiss her silly. He strongly suspected she’d bite his tongue if he did so, so he refrained. Then her words filtered through. Kidnap her?

"Buffy, I didn’t kidnap you."

She pulled away from him them and marched to the bed, pointing to the disordered mess. "So what do you call this?"

Had she become a bit touched in the head? He sincerely hoped not. "My bunk?"

She stomped her foot. "No, the body?"

"The body?" He was starting to worry now.

"Yes, the body. Willow? My ‘sick’ cousin who you lured me here with? Who clearly isn’t ill." The look she gave him was full of reproach that cut him even though he was entirely innocent. "How could you do that, William?"

Oh. Oh. It was becoming clear to him what had happened.

"Buffy?" The big sad eyes were now filling with tears. "No, sweetheart, don’t cry."

She wiped at her eyes furiously. "Don’t call me sweetheart."

Right, endearments later. "Buffy, I didn’t do this. I’ve been in town all day since I left you, I didn’t ask you out here or lock you in. But I think I know who did."

She looked at the blankets again and then back to him. "She wouldn’t?"

"I think she might. What do you say we go have a little talk with your cousin?"

She searched his face. Either he was a very convincing liar, or she was going to have to strangle her cousin, because he looked remarkably guileless and had seemed as confused by her presence as she was.

"Very well. Let’s go speak with Willow. And then I want off this ship."

He briefly wondered if he should mention they were already headed out of port, but decided against it. While he wouldn’t have pulled this little stunt, he was a firm believer in making the most of one’s opportunities. And Buffy being here was clearly a heaven-sent one.

Maybe there was a chance to change her mind after all.

Chapter 23

The door to the cabin swung open unexpectedly and Willow shot a quick glance at Tara. “I think she’s figured it out.”

“Willow! Tara!” With flashing eyes and the righteous fury of a Valkyrie, Buffy charged into the cabin, William heavy on her heels, grinning broadly.

They both rose to their feet sheepishly. “Buffy, what a surprise, what are you doing here?” Willow asked, avoiding her gaze.

“Willow, you’ve never been a good liar, don’t start now. What were you thinking?” Her lips were tight as Buffy stalked forward.

“I’m just going to leave you ladies to chat for a bit.” William hastily stepped to the door. There was a storm brewing and he thought he’d just as soon not be a party to the wrath of Buffy. After all, he needed to stay on her good side if he planned to try to woo her back to him.

Willow made a helpless sound as the ungrateful William ducked out the door.

“Alright Willow, what is this all about?” Buffy brandished the note. “I was frightened beyond belief when I received this. I thought you might be dying.” The tremble in her voice brought Willow up short.

“Oh Buffy, no, we didn’t mean to scare you. Did we, Tara?”

Tara shook her head. “Buffy, I’m sorry, we were wrong to trick you that way, honestly we know that. We just didn’t want you to miss your opportunity for something special. We didn’t mean any harm.”

“My opportunity for something special? What are you two talking about?”

“William.” Willow said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh no, don’t you start an Anya on me now, Willow.” Buffy fluttered back and sat down on one of the bunks, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know what he’d told you, but it was a mistake, one I regret, and one I won’t repeat.” Her face softened for a moment. “I appreciate what you were trying to do here, but Willow, Tara, that’s simply not the life for me.”

The pair looked at each other, confused. “Buffy, I think there are some things you don’t know.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, then why don’t you fill me in?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy opened the door to the cabin and slowly walked into the narrow hallway, breathing in the salt air that stung her lungs just a little.

William really loved her. Or so he’d declared to her closest friends, to his brother even. And he was going to break the contract, for her, no matter what the cost.

Had they gotten that right? Was it possible? Or was it just another line he’d fed them to salvage their opinion of him after her abrupt dismissal the day they’d left. After all, it wasn’t as though he wasn’t capable of spinning pretty words when he wanted something.

Yet they’d seen so convinced, so sure of his sincerity.

It startled her, that he would do that. That he thought she was more important than the arrangements made to further the passage of ships and trade and all the things that men’s lives revolved around. That he would rather have her.

She paused before knocking on the cabin door. Was she ready to face him? Knowing this? Because it meant a risk for her as well. She’d known Richard Wilkins since she was a little girl. He was ruthless about getting what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was William and his connections. There would be a price to pay for her and him if they went forward.

So the question was, would she go the safe route and return to Miss Greenlee’s, or would she take the chance and accept what she thought he would offer her when she entered that door?

She realized she didn’t know the answer yet as she knocked softly on the door to the captain’s cabin, but she could start with an apology. She tried to calm the flutter in her stomach as the door swung open.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Buffy?” He seemed surprised to see her so soon. “Get everything sorted out then? All patched up?”

She nodded. “Willow and Tara had some interesting things to tell me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh did they now? What exactly about?” His tone was still slightly stiff.

“You, mostly.” She motioned to the small table. “What do you say we have a little chat? And would you happen to have a cup of tea?”

A small smile crept onto his face. “I think that can be arranged. Give me a moment.”

She settled her skirts as she folded her hands primly on the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He returned in moments and gave her a steaming cup, settling across the table with the other. His breath caught just a little as he watched her take a delicate sip to the dark liquid. He almost wanted to pinch himself. Was she really right across from him? Calmly regarding him with her solemn green eyes? And why the sudden calmness in her demeanor? She’d been so furious before, and now, now she seemed positively sedate.

He’d learned enough about her to know such a facade masked still waters.

“I think we have some unfinished business to discuss, William.”

Hearing her say his name gave him hope. She’d dropped the formality again and he took it as a positive sign. And yet he was still left without the swagger of before. He wanted to say something cunning and flip, to see if he could coax a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips like he had so often in the past.

But that was before he’d lost his heart to her. Before it meant anything. Now . . . now, he didn’t dare do anything that might cause her to skitter back into her shell again. Because now it really meant something.

He was ready to grovel if necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“So.”

“So indeed.” She lifted her teacup again. “I’m guessing we’ve already started for Charleston, haven’t we?”

He was a little surprised she’d figured that one out, but then again he’d always known Buffy was a sharp tack from the first day he’d met her.

“We’re a ways out from port now. No turning back.”

She pondered that for a moment. “No turning back. Then I suppose we can only look forward?”

“I suppose so.” He titled his head to the side as he studied her. There were faint shadows under her eyes he hadn’t noticed before, traces of sleepless nights that gave him pause. She was thinner as well. He should have put his foot down, insisted she come with them, have straightened out this tangle long ago. And now she was giving him the moment, the chance, the opportunity to do so.

He tried to compose precisely how he should say this as he fingered the emerald ring nestled in his pocket. The one that had been in the Darlington line for years, and rightfully sat on the Lady of the family’s finger. The ring he wanted to slip on her finger. But he needed to get this right, to have the perfect words to persuade her of his devotion and affection.

He didn’t have the chance. She took the lead.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier? That you loved me?”

“With all my heart Buffy. I--”

She raised her hand to stop him. “No, please, it’s alright. I believe you. It seems I have an apology to make.”

“You do?”

She slid her hand across the table and lightly laid it across his, the light touch causing him to shiver with remembrance of what her soft flesh felt like between his. “I do. I lied to you, William, in the garden, when I told you that I didn’t love you.”

If his heart could have danced independent of his body around the room it would have kicked up its heels in the wildest of reels at her statement.

She release her clasp of his hand. “But I’m not sure that it’s enough.”

The music stopped with a screech and his heart missed a step in its dance.

“What on earth do you mean? I love you and, you me. What more is there to ask for?” He already knew the answer to that, knew that merely loving the other party wasn’t enough. Passion and fire would burn, but trust and affection would provide a foundation for something that would see them through the hard times that would lie ahead. And she obviously knew it as well.

“I’m not sure if I can trust you, William. I just need some time.”

“Buffy, I’m not going to marry Harmony . . .”

She stood and stopped the desperate flow of words tumbling from his lips. “William, please. I’d rather you didn’t explain right now.”

He rose too, stepping closer, sure that is she’d just let him press his case, he could convince her. She closed her eyes and stepped away from him, leaving him facing her back, slumped shoulders and bowed head silent testament to the futility of pleading his case.

He followed her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “Buffy? What can I do?”

She was very still, barely breathing it seemed, until she exhaled slowly and whispered, “Just give me some time, William. This . . . you . . . everything is just a little overwhelming right now. Could you do that? Please?”

It took everything in his power to slowly withdraw his hand, but he turned and left the cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight of the small dock protruding into the dark water was welcome after the day spent working their way up the river. Though the weather was cool and they weren’t plagued with the pests of summer, the exertions under the heavy wool of their coats combined for an uncomfortable extremity of heat and cold as dusk threatened to descend.

“You think he’ll be here?” Wesley looked back at Xander.

“I hope so, after all this. The Fosters were sure he was headed in this direction when he wandered off. If he’s not here, I think we may have to assume the worst.” Xander sighed. “I’m not sure he’ll be half the man this Harmony seems to think he is, but if we can find him, at least he’ll serve to stop Wilkins from forcing Will to go through with that daft contract he signed.”

They glided along the dock until they were in reach and Wesley tossed the rope and moored them securely. The path was well-cleared as they walked through the forest of pine.

”Who are you?”

Xander started at the sudden intrusion to the peacefulness of the day’s end quiet, marred only by the occasional call of a bird. The voice belonged to a small girl, clad in a well-washed calico and firmly clutching a rag doll to her chest.

Wesley knelt to look the child in the eyes. “I’m Mr. Wyndham-Pryce and this is Mr. Harris. We’ve come to see about a guest, a Sergeant Finn who we think might be staying with your family.

The little girl plucked her thumb from her mouth. “The sick man?”

Wesley shared a look with Xander. “Yes, the sick man. Can you take us to see your father?”

The little girl nodded and began trotting up the path, Wesley and Xander close on her heels. The house that came into sight was neat but small, little more than a wooden enclosure that would provide some measure of shelter, but little else. A woman appeared in the door as they drew closer, shading her eyes.

“Sarah? Where did you get off to?”

“Mama, Mama, look what I found!” Sarah grabbed Wesley’s hand and tugged him as she continued to clutch her dolly tightly with the other. Xander noticed the stiffening of the woman’s back as she took in the two well-dressed men.

“Ma’am, we’re so sorry to call on your home in this unexpected manner. My friend and I are searching for a gentleman named Riley Finn on behalf of his wife, who has been most distressed by his long absence.”

“His wife?” The woman’s face softened slightly. “We didn’t know Sergeant Finn was married. The poor man’s just now starting to recover, he’s been so ill he’s hardly had the strength to speak. Likely explains why he’s been thrashing around so, eager to get home, I reckon.”

“Indeed.” Wesley permitted Sarah to lead him closer to the door and made a small bow. “Allow me to introduce myself and my friend, Mrs. . . . .”

“Edwards. Sadie Edwards. My husband’s Elijah, and he’s been out hunting this morning. He’ll be back soon.”

Wesley smoothly introduced launched into introductions, watching as Mrs. Edwards took their measure. She seemed slightly nervous, but he assumed most women living out here might be a bit thrown by two strangers arriving unannounced. He suspected their clothes and groomed appearance helped matters somewhat, but she still appeared ill at ease.

“So you’re just here for Sergeant Finn?”

“Yes ma’am. His wife is expecting and has been quite distressed in his absence.”

That seemed to seal the matter. “Oh, poor girl. Well, come with me, he’s been staying out in the barn, we just don’t have the room in the house.”

She shut the door to the house firmly behind her and led them around to another wooden structure and pulled open the door to reveal a man laying on a pallet, shivering under his blanket, still clearly racked by the lingering vestiges of a fever.

Xander walked in and knelt beside the pallet. He laid his hand on Finn’s forehead and noted the slight flush in his checks. He’d been in Charleston long enough to have seen a case or two of the dreaded swamp fever. Finn, though wan and haggard, seemed to be through the worst.

“Sergeant Finn, can you hear me? My name is Xander Harris, I’m a friend of your wife.”

It seemed with some effort that Finn’s eyes slowly opened. He motioned and Mrs. Edwards reached for a bucket to the side, lifting a hollowed gourd full of water to his lips. “The fever takes the water out of a man, makes him right thirsty.”

Riley took several swallows and seemed to find his voice, cracked though it was from disuse. “Harmony? You know Harmony?”

Wesley stepped forward and nodded. “Yes, we’ve met Mrs. Finn and I know she’ll be most delighted to see you’re on the mend. The last word she received indicated you had succumbed to your illness and she’ll be most delighted to see you again. She has some wonderful news for you.”

A smile crossed the thin face. “I was worried she’d given up on me.”

Xander shook his head. “No, she’s quite devoted. But we really must see about getting you back as soon as possible. I’m sure Mrs. Edwards has provided excellent care, but you could use the services of a doctor.”

Mrs. Edwards nodded. “Poor man stumbled out of the woods a few months back, wild-eyed and raving and near about dead. Wouldn’t have been Christian to turn him away. But he’d be better off getting back to his missus.”

“Mrs. Edwards, I hesitate to impinge further on the hospitality you’ve already shown to Sergeant Finn, but could we trouble you for lodging for the night so that we might make a fresh start in the morning? I’m afraid neither Mr. Harris nor myself are familiar enough with the river to attempt to navigate it in the dark. You’d be amply rewarded, of course.”

Mrs. Edwards picked up Sarah, who’d been clinging to her skirts throughout and glanced at the house and then back to the gentlemen. “Well, like I said, we just don’t have no room in the house, but you’re welcome to bed down out here if you want. I can bring you out some supper once we’ve got it made.”

Xander managed to suppress his laughter at the expression on the rather fastidious Wes’s face at the prospect of bedding down with the cows and horse that were the current occupants of the barn.

“We appreciate the offer, Mrs. Edwards, and we accept. We’ll be just fine out here,” Xander told her.

“Good. I’ll bring back some blankets.” Sarah watched them over her mother’s shoulder, giving a shy wave as they disappeared back around the corner to the front of the house.

Chapter 24

“William, you keep going at that rate, and you’re going to wear a hole in the planks. The Anne’s a good ship, but she can only take so much, man.” Clement looked as though he were hard pressed not to laugh at the display in front of him.

William stopped. “Very amusing. Here I thought I was paying you to pilot a ship, not play the court jester.”

Clem raised an eyebrow. “Now, Will, don’t be tetchy. Women are enough to drive any man a bit over the edge. Especially small, pretty, blonde ones. I prefer mine smooth, sleek, and seaworthy, like this beauty.” He patted the rail with fondness.

William joined him along the railing. “Now that is the truth. Unpredictable they are, you know that, Clem?”

“So what happened?”

William sighed. “I made an error in judgment. I thought I could fix it, keep her from finding out, but I wasn’t quick enough. So now she’s convinced she can’t trust me.”

“Is that all?” Clem snorted. “Will, I’ve seen you walk into many a bar and chat up the lasses, have them ready to follow you to the ends of the earth by the time you’re ready to leave. You’re a silver-tongued devil. I’d have thought you could talk any woman into trusting you.”

“Not her.” William shrugged. “Buffy’s had some experience with silver-tongues that bit her good and proper, so she’s a bit shy. And I knew a bit of that, wasn’t trying to just chat her up, you know.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “I want to make her my bride.”

Clement smiled. “Well any cross-eyed fool could see that, Will. I’ve never seen you moon over a woman before, so I imagine if you’re that taken with her, she must be something else. I reckon you’ll just have to give her time, win her trust back.”

William nodded. “I suppose so. It’s just that sometimes I wonder if we’ll wait too long.” He glanced up at the sky as the choppy waves brought a sharp roll to the deck. “Wind’s picking up, looks like we might have a storm coming in.”

Clem followed his gave to the rapidly moving clouds. “Does look like it might get choppy. I’ll get some extra hands on deck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Edwards had brought plates of food and extra blankets as promised. After a welcomed meal, a bit of rearranging of the piles of hay created beds that were adequate, if not plush. The day’s exertions had taken their toll, and Wesley and Xander settled into the barn near the Sergeant, who’d quietly drifted back to sleep after a few more questions about his wife’s welfare.

“Seems like he does care for her quite a bit,” Xander mused, trying to find a comfortable spot in the hay.

“Indeed. We can feel quite the Cupids I suppose, reuniting them and clearing the way for William and Buffy,” Wesley replied.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Speak for yourself, but I’ll pass on the role as a small winged cherub, my friend. I’ll just be happy to get back home. There was a time when this would have been quite comfortable, but I’m afraid feather mattresses have spoiled me.”

“I’ll second that,” Wesley murmured. “Do you think it odd that we never saw Mr. Edwards? I’d have thought he’d come out and greet us at the least.”

“I don’t know if he ever came back. Maybe he’s gone off somewhere else to hunt and she just didn’t want us to know she’s alone.” Xander rolled to his side and gave the pile of hay one last punch as he finally found a comfortable spot. “See you in the morning, Wes.”

“Goodnight, Xander.”

Wesley shifted again, but couldn’t find a position where something wasn’t poking him in a horribly unpleasant manner. He sat up, stifling a groan as he felt something pop in his back. Maybe a short walk would help.

He quietly slipped from the barn and out into the moonlight that bathed the small clearing that comprised the Edwards’s homestead. The night was mostly quiet, with only the occasional chirp and trill that still sounded strange to his ears. He’d have never guessed that he’d be sleeping in the barn outside some backwoods cabin when he’d left London only a month ago. His mother would quite possibly have a fit if she could see her youngest. He smiled at the thought.

A flash of white caught the corner of his eye and he turned to see a pale apparition floating towards him. He stifled a scream as he realized that the ghost was merely a young girl, perhaps thirteen at the most, with pale features and almost white blond hair. Must be another of the Edwards, little Sarah’s older sister perhaps.

He wondered idly how many children they must have. Mrs. Edwards had mentioned them not having much room. Of course it wouldn’t take many to fill that tiny cabin. The ghostly girl drew nearer and glided to a stop a few feet away.

“Are you gentlemen here to take me back?” Her voice was low and broken and she barely raised her head as she asked him the question.

“What? Us? No, no, we’re not here to take you back.” Wesley backed a step away as she raised her dark eyes to his, her face resolute.

“Mistress Glory wishes me to service you here then?” She reached for the edges of the thin cotton sheath and Wesley watched with horror as the child pulled the cloth over her head, revealing a stomach several months along.

He caught the gown and held it back to her, eyes averted as a lantern cut through the gloom of the night and a man’s voice barked, “Tabitha, what you doing out there, girl?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy watched the door with trepidation. He was going to come back. She knew that. His eyes had grown large when she’d announced her lack of trust for him, and her need for him to give her time. He’d started to protest, but she’d refused to listen. And then he’d risen to his feet and left the room.

Leaving her alone. Which of course was what she’d requested of him. But the problem was that now she was lonely, with nothing to do but think. A tiny part of her wished that he’d stayed, protested his love for her, swept her off her feet. Literally.

She shook her head. She really must stop reading those sorts of novels.

She could always go and talk with Willow and Tara. But although she didn’t doubt their good intentions, she still felt slightly miffed at their chicanery in luring her to the ship. No. Best keep to herself for now.

She wandered the cabin, sparsely furnished with the essentials and little else until she came to his trunk. It was unlocked, half thrown open. She reached for one of the shirts that lay exposed and admired the softness of the fabric. Buffy couldn’t resist the urge to pick up the cloth and inhale the scent that was uniquely him. It made her body flush, remembering the way he’d held her that night, her face buried against his neck, soaking up his essence.

She hoped he’d stay away almost as much as she hoped he’d come back.

The cabin was growing dark as she made her way back to the bunk, pushing aside the pillows and blankets that had been piled beneath the covers so that she could slump dejectedly in their place. She pulled out the small watch tucked in the pocket of her jacket and glanced at the dial, but couldn’t quite make out the hands. It must be growing late.

She considered for a moment lighting the lamp that sat on the table, but realized it wasn’t worth the effort. She was tired. The day had started early, and she’d never expected it to end this way, somewhere afloat in the Atlantic, lying in William’s bed. She hoped he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable wherever he’d been forced to bunk. She felt the slightest twinge of guilt at uprooting him from his cabin; after all, it wasn’t his fault that she was here. But not quite enough to leave.

Buffy started to slide beneath the blankets, but considered the state of her dress. She was rumpled enough already and she’d not have a change until they reached Charleston. She stood and crossed to the door, firmly turning the lock before she began rapidly unlacing the fastenings. She slid the layers of fabric over her head, straightening the wrinkles as best she could as she carefully laid out the garment over a chair.

The corset was next and she breathed a sigh at its removal, laying it discreetly under the folds of the dress. Her boots unlaced, she was finally comfortable enough to sink down unto the mattress and lose herself in sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley was sure that he would awake at any moment from the ludicrous dream he was having, in which he was holding the shift of a pregnant child somewhere in the backwoods of South Carolina.

He opened his eyes to the bright glare of the lantern. Right. Not a dream, then.

He shielded his eyes and continued to proffer the gown back to the girl, who seemed in her own trance-like state.

Xander appeared at the edge of the clearing as the man behind the lantern grabbed the girl and pulled her behind him.

“What’s going on here?” Xander demanded.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” the man demanded, spitting emphatically as though to underline his point. “Now I told ‘im, if I take these girls, I don’t want no one coming up here and botherin’ them no more. We’re gonna raise’m up right, as God in Heaven intended.”

The girl had slid the garment back over her head and now stood behind the man, a near wraith-like shadow aside from her bulging belly. She watched them with frightened, distant eyes.

Xander stepped closer to the light. “Sir? I assume you’re Mr. Edwards? Your wife allowed us to shelter here in your barn for the night, so that we could make a fresh start to return our friend, Sergeant Finn, to the city. We mean no harm to the girl.”

The man regarded him squarely before lowering the lamp slightly. “Tabitha, get on back in the house now, girl. You need to get your rest.” His tone was gentle and she turned and retraced her steps as requested.

After she was out of earshot, he turned back. “I’m Elijah Edwards. You’re Mr. Harris, and Mr. Pryce?”

“Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, actually,” Wesley broke in, but stopped at a look from Xander.

“Wyndham-Pryce. Quite a mouthful there. My wife told me you was here. She thought you seemed good folks, coming way up here to find the Sergeant for his wife. I just got a trifle concerned when I seen the front door open and Tabitha gone.”

He sighed as he directed the lantern towards Wesley. “I’m sorry if I startled you, son. Tabitha’s got a habit of sleepwalking that’s nigh on impossible to break her of, and it’s getting worse as it gets to be her time. Didn’t mean be to so tetchy.”

Wesley nodded. “I apologize as well, what you saw . . . I must assure you that I did not try to take advantage of Miss Tabitha.”

Elijah shrugged off his apology. “I saw you trying to hand her clothes back. I reckon most men wouldn’t be so polite like about it. Well, sorry for the disturbance, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

Elijah gave a curt nod and started back towards the house. Xander shook his head and turned towards the barn. Wesley stood frozen. Something, something the girl had said . . . Glory. Wasn’t Glory the lady of the night that had threatened the ward William had taken in?

“Sir? Mr. Edwards? Could I ask you one more question? Why did Tabitha ask me if Miss Glory wished her to . . . er, service me? Who is Miss Glory? And who brought that child here after doing that to her?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

William seized the rope and hung on for dear life as another enormous wave washed over the deck, tilting the Anne dangerously starboard. He yelled commands into the wind as the ship’s mates raced to fight the effects of the storm and keep the ship from keeling under the forces of the wind and water.

By the time the worst of the storm had passed in the early hours of the morning, he was soaked to the bone and chilled to the marrow, but exhilarated at the battle with the elements. He’d missed this, the tug of war that was part and parcel of riding the sea, the teamwork of the crew pulling together like a well-oiled machine at his command.

“I think we’re through the worst, just rain from here on, judging by those clouds. Winds have slowed a good bit.” Clem appeared by his side. “I’m putting on the night watch, sending the rest below to dry off, sleep a bit before morning, if that’s alright with you.”

William nodded and clapped Clem on the back. “Tell them they did well, that was a hell of a storm and the Anne came through with only minor damage. Give an extra pint round, too.” He started towards the causeway to the captain’s quarters. “I’m going to change into something dry, call me if the weather picks back up.”

He reached the door and turned the handle, jolted as he realized it was locked. Buffy. He’d thought she might have joined the other women, but apparently she was still holed up in his cabin.

He considered for a half second walking away. Then with a slow smile he slid the key to the cabin from his pocket and unlocked the door. He wasn’t walking away anymore.

Chapter 25

Buffy clutched the edge of the blanket, as the roll and pitch of the ship made her stomach swim. She’d woken as she tumbled from the bunk and landed in a heap on the hard-plank floor.

The howl and scream of the storm made it a live thing, swirling banshee-like around the masts, tearing at the small port holes as though it would rip the very ribs of the ship apart. Buffy rushed to the door and listened to the shouts among the sailors outside, hearing as footsteps sounded back and forth.

Surely William was alright? He’d sailed for years, she knew that, but this storm seemed so horrific, as though it would devour them whole. What if he were washed over? Even the best of sailors could be caught unawares, swept up by an unsuspected wave into the gaping black of the sea. Willow’s Daniel had been a fine sailor, but he’d been lost nonetheless.

She paced for a few minutes, but the toss of the flooring was more than her balance could withstand and she curled back into the bunk, pulling the covers tightly around her as a stark realization clutched deep in her gut.

She didn’t want to lose him. Not to the sea. Not to Harmony. Not to anyone. The knowledge washed over her as the wind and rain began to slow and she felt a sudden sense of calmness for the first time since she’d traveled to Boston.

She’d spent years striving to be the faithful daughter, the model wife. But a sense of dissatisfaction had burrowed deep within her, even as she’d sedately followed her father, then husband’s directions. She’d had her small rebellions since then, but she’d always been afraid to stray to far in her personal conduct from the well-schooled lessons of how a lady should conduct herself, afraid of what other might say. She’d been so careful to stay within the boundaries, to be the perfect widow since Angel’s death, so that she could have her small freedoms. It hadn’t been hard, really. There was nothing she wanted for herself but to be left alone, nothing to gain by flaunting society’s conventions.

Until he’d come along. She could feel the hot blush rise in her cheeks as she remembered the night he’d come to her and how easily she’d capitulated. Not because of loneliness or naivety, but because he’d awakened something within her, the stirrings of a happiness she hadn’t thought possible.

She sat back up, gripping the edge of the bunk as the ship rolled sharply again. Snatches of raised voices sounded as men hurtled along the passageway outside the cabin’s door. She strained to hear what was said, but the howl of the wind swept away the words.

She pulled the blanket from the bunk around her and staggered closer to the door again, pressing against it, trying to gain some sense of what was happening, of where William might be in all of this. But the voices moved on, a sharp command that might have been him sending the footsteps pounding towards the front of the ship. She slumped against the hard wood and sank to the floor, bundling herself closer in the rough wool as she waited.

She wouldn’t ask him to sacrifice his dream for her, flaunt his agreement with Wilkins and bring down his wrath and those of his connections in Charleston society, but she knew she couldn’t bear to be without William. Which left only the option she hadn’t wished to consider. She would become his mistress, discreetly, quietly, in the way those things were done. But at least he’d still be hers. The loss of her good name seemed a small price to pay anymore for the warmth and love she knew would fill her life with him in it.

She’d refused to hear him out before, refused to give him a chance to explain. She prayed she hadn’t waited too long to have that chance as she nervously shuffled back to the bunk again and waited in the dark as the sounds of the storm began to dissipate.

The key rattled in the lock and as the door swung open, she breathed a sigh of relief she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. In the half light from the door she drank in his shadowed form with hungry eyes as he fumbled for the lamp and holder in the box affixed to the table and struck a match with a hiss that cast a dim light over the room.

He shut the door as she watched. He was drenched, soaked with the water from the storm that pooled beneath his feet and plastered his thin, once fine shirt to his torso.

He’d never looked more beautiful to her. She struggled to find her voice as he turned towards her. “Buffy? Love, are you alright?”

Whatever last dam of reserve she’d been clinging too, whatever last shred of propriety that she’d clutched to herself as reassurance that leaving Charleston and temptation had been the right thing, disappeared as he stood there in front of her.

After all, Jane had come back to find her Mr. Rochester in the end, hadn’t she?

She rose from the bunk and crossed the small cabin, engulfing him despite his dampness in a consuming hug. “William, you’re alive. I’m so glad you’re alive. I was so worried,” she murmured against his sodden shirtfront.

She could feel the slight tension in his body as he slowly lowered the lamp to the table and ran his hand up her back. She shivered as the feel of his fingertips as they smoothed across the bare skin of her shoulder and tilted her chin up to force her to meet his eyes.
She could see the surprise there and the hunger as he searched her face.

“Buffy? You’re alright?”

She knew words were needed between them. The right words this time. Not the pretty words he’d spun to seduce her with that night before he’d left Charleston, nor the cold words she’d use to cut him and castigate him for the way he’d treated her in Boston. They needed something new, vows of promise and commitment, of forgiveness and acceptance of their reality, where they would go from this moment.

But right now she didn’t want words. She felt the longing in the touch of his lips against her fingers as she stopped him from speaking, and the desire in his eyes as they traced over her.

There’d be time enough for words later. She took his hand and turned to lead him back to the bunk.

++++++

He wasn’t sure where he managed to find the strength, but he stopped her as she pulled him towards the bed, her intentions clear. “Buffy, wait.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder, her golden hair cascading down her back and he stepped closer, unable to resist the lure of the invitation in her eyes. But he wasn’t making the mistake he had before, rushing headlong without an understanding that she would truly be his.

“Love, no, wait. We need to talk.”

She sat on the edge of the bunk, letting the blanket wrapped around her shoulders fall away, her skin glowing in the dim flicker of the lamp. He felt in his pocket, reassuring himself that the delicate circle of gold was still there, as he nervously knelt in front of her, clasping her hands in his as he struggled to find the right words.

“William?” She pulled one hand free and raised it to clasp his face. “I love you. And tonight, listening to that storm howl outside, wondering if you were still there and or if something had happened to you, I realized something. I don’t want to be without you, regardless of what anyone might say.”

He looked at her, dazed for a moment. “Buffy . . . are you saying . . .”

“I want to be with you, William. No matter what.”

A smile broke across his face and he pulled her to him, smothering her face with kisses as she clung to him. He felt a sense of elation bloom within that he hadn’t felt since the morning he’d left her sleeping side.

He broke away, fumbling in his pocket for the emerald ring that he took out with shaking fingers, as he grasped her left hand. “I love you, Buffy, so much. I will cherish you for the rest of our days, I promise you.”

She stared down at the ring and then up at him, confused. “William?”

“Buffy, will you marry me?” he asked.

She blinked down at the dark fire of the emerald and then back up at him. “William, no, you don’t have to, I . . .” she took a deep breath, “I will be your mistress.”

“But I don’t want you as my mistress.” He sat back horrified. “I want you as my wife, Buffy. And nothing less.”

She blinked. “But . . . Wilkins . . . and the contract. William, he’s as good as promised to make things impossible for you, and I don’t wish to be the cause of that.”

William frowned. This was not how he’d imagined the proposal going. She was supposed to yes and smile and kiss him and . . . He took a deep breath and tried again. “Sod them all. I’ve cracked tougher nuts than Wilkins in my time and Harmony can barely stand to be in my presence. I’ll settle a nice dowry on her and cheer the little sheep right up. And Wilkins even dares to try to besmirch your name, he’ll regret it, I’ll see to that. You are the only woman I want to be my bride, contract or no contract.”

She still had not answered. He sat back, the ring cutting into his fingers as he gripped it tightly in his hand, a thought striking him that left him cold. “Is it that . . . you don’t wish to be married again? Buffy, I promise that I’ll treat well, it won’t be like with Crawford.”

She frowned. “How do you know about Angel?” she asked, her voice faint.

He took her hand again, cradling it gently. “Willow told me that he was unkind to you, but, love, you must know by now that I have no wish for a bride that’s for show. I foolishly thought that would suffice, but . . .” he leaned closer, gently kissing her lips, “I was more the fool to believe it. I cannot imagine my life without you, Elizabeth Summers Crawford. I want you to be the mother of my children, the keeper of my home, my love and life for the rest of my days.”

He realized there were tears streaming down her face, and he wiped one away with his thumb as she threw her arms around him. “You truly wish me to be your wife?” she murmured against his ear.

He smiled and pulled her back so that he could meet her eyes. “With all my heart.”

He could see the smile that began in her eyes and lit up her entire face as she nodded. “Yes.”

“Yes?” he asked again.

“Yes! I’ll marry you, William!” she exclaimed, giggling as he caught her lips in a passionate kiss that ended with them tumbling onto the bed. He managed to pull himself back to catch his breath and reached for her hand, kissing each slender digit until he reached her ring finger and slid the large emerald onto her hand.

She held it out in shock, “It’s rather . . . large.”

“The better for other blokes to know you’re taken, my love,” he murmured, exploring the soft skin of her arm with his lips as he worked his way to the curve of her shoulder. He was starting to wonder how he’d managed to be apart from her for so many weeks, now that he had her in his arms again, the memories of their night together rolling back. He’d dreamed of this, her soft body against his, flushed and warm and welcoming. He let his hand roam, feeling the soft swell of her breast against his palm, as he traced the lace edge of her thin garment.

“William?” Her voice was hesitant as she’d turned to face him completely, her hand caressing his skin, and he could feel the cool metal of the band against his cheek.

He cursed himself inwardly and pulled his hand away from the swell of her breast. Right. What the hell was he thinking? He’d asked her to marry him, assured her of his love and respect, and then promptly toppled her onto the bed like a two-bit doxy to have his way with her.

“You’re dripping wet,” she reminded him.

He looked down at his sodden shirt and rolled away, sitting back up on the edge of the bunk. “Right. Sorry, sweet, I’ll just be changing and then I’ll go and see if I can bunk with . . .”

“How about you just take it off and then come back,” she patted the spot next to her, “here.”

He glanced back, eyes wide. “Sweetheart, no, we’re going to do this proper.” He stood up before he lost his resolve and started to walk away to his chest for a dry shirt. “We’ll wait until after-”

“William?”

He turned completely and lost his breath at the vision of his bride-to be wearing nothing at all as she waited for him in his bed, rising from the tangled blanket like a Venus made just for him.

“I don’t want to wait,” she said softly, holding out her arms to him

He hastily unbuttoned his own shirt. “As you wish, my love.” He finished disrobing and crossed the cabin in a few strides, laughing with her as she giggled and mock-shivered at the coldness of his skin still chilled from the rain, wrapping herself around him with the whispered promise that she’d keep him warm.

He felt it then, something deep inside long damned up burst forth and flood through him, the knowledge that he’d finally found the love he’d been searching for.