*indicates* italics since I can’t seem to get the formatting right.

Usual disclaimer - not mine, fun, no profit.

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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

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.

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."

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.

"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.

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