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.

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.

Chapter 19

“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.

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