William opened the door to the suite and stormed inside towards the privacy of his room. He needed a moment, just a moment, he assured himself, to get his emotions back under control. The cool way she’d treated him, the clear dismissal, and worst of all the calm denial that she’d ever cared for him had cut him to the bone.

If she’d been more vehement in her rejection, more full of the fire he knew lurked beneath the calm exterior she showed to the world, he might have questioned her sincerity. But her calm dismissal of what had passed between them had crumbled the foundations of the castles he now knew were built on air.

And their demise left him feeling empty and numb. There was anger in there, a part of him that wanted to go back and take her in his arms, kiss her senseless and force her to acknowledge there was something between them. But the numbness at her rejection overrode that crazy notion.

So he’d do what he’d always done in the past when life disappointed him. He’d take a moment, get himself together, and push on. No looking back. He wasn’t going to beg and plead and be her lap dog. A part of him knew that there was fault on both sides in this, he should have been up front with her from the beginning about the arrangement with Harmony. But if he had, they’d have never come to this place at all, she’d have never let him in to start with. And if she’d never let him in, he’d never have realized how much he loved her. Which brought it all back around in a confusing circle.

A circle he wasn’t going to think about now. There’d be time in the coming nights to ponder this further. Right now, he needed to move on or he’d be a crying nancy boy in moments.

He’d almost made it into his room when the rustle of skirts emerging from the other bedroom connected to the small sitting area alerted him that he wasn’t alone.

"William, you’re back! Did you get Dawn settled? Did she like the school?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob. Best to just answer Willow’s question, get it over with. He focused on keeping his voice steady. "She’s fine. Seems to be taking to the place. Miss Greenlee had an older girl picked out, she’ll tutor Dawn and whatall. She’s promised to write to us, give us updates. I think she’ll be happy once she’s had a few days to settle into the place."

"That’s wonderful." Tara’s quieter tone carried across the room. He knew the smartest thing to do was just to get away from them right now, before they probed and prodded and made him talk. He really didn’t want to talk.

Except he had to know. He turned around. "Did you know she was going to be there? Did you?"

The blank look on their faces answered his question. At least he wasn’t the only one she’d left in the dark. "Never mind."

But he’d piqued their curiosity and they were hot on his heels now, drawing him back to perch on the mostly ornamental sofa, flanked by two determined females.

"William, what’s going on, who did you see? Miss Greenlee?"

"Yes, that’s who I saw." He changed the subject abruptly. "Would it be possible for you to be packed up so that we could leave this evening? I’ve arranged to meet with the Chesterfields in an hour and I have no other appointments here. I though we might make an earlier start back, if that’s alright with both of you."

The two girls exchanged brief, but amused, glances.

"Eager to get back to Buffy?" Willow smiled at him and was startled as the vehemence in his reply.

"No." He rose and headed for the door, but they were quick as a hound after a hare.

"William, wait, what’s happened?" Willow caught his arm as he reached the door.

He shrugged. Best get it over with, they’d find out soon enough. "Buffy’s here, she’s taken a position at Miss Greenlee’s."

It was clear this turn of events was as confusing to Willow and Tara as it was to him.

"She’s teaching here? When did she arrive?" Tara asked.

"Not long ago. We had a little chat, she made it clear that she intended to stay here and that’s that." His jaw clenched tightly as he kept his emotions under control. "Now I’d best be off."

"William, no wait a minute." Willow laid a hand on his arm again, and he stood foolishly between them. "Buffy has a tendency to get frightened and I’m sure running away up here was something she’ll know was a mistake, if you just tell her how you feel. You can explain everything to her, just like you planned. It’s just a lover’s quarrel."

He laughed then, a sharp, hoarse bark that was devoid of mirth. "I don’t have to tell her Willow. She was very clear on her feelings for me."

"And what were those?" He was surprised that she’d had the voice to ask him, but the fairer of the pair that had him cornered was watching him with her big eyes, sure there was a happy ending hidden in there somewhere.

"She doesn’t care for me, doesn’t . . . love me."

"No William, don’t say that, Buffy’s just being stubborn. Let me go and visit with her, talk to her. I know she’ll come around if she only hears everything you’ve done and are doing to make things right"

He shook his head. "Just leave it be, please Willow. She made her choice, I won’t try to change it." He looked her square in the eye. "Promise me you won’t go talk to her."

He noted the stubborn look on her face and added a plea. "Willow, please. Don’t go to her. Perhaps we’re better off this way, before we hurt each other any more."

It was easy to see he was lapsing into quite a funk before their eyes. Willow and Tara exchanged a silent glance behind his back.

"Very well, William. We won’t talk with her, you have our word. And we’ll see to getting things packed here and moved to the ship. We’ll see you there this evening."

He clasped one of each of their hands loosely in his. "Thank you both. You’ve been kind to listen. Let’s not speak of this again."

As soon as the door shut behind him, Willow headed for their room to gather outerwear and hats for them both, her eyes sparkling in the way they did when she had an idea. Tara followed more slowly. "Willow, you promised William that you wouldn’t speak to Buffy. We aren’t going to see her, are we?"

"No, I gave him my word. No talking to Buffy. We’re going to do something even better."

Tara eyed her suspiciously. "Willow, what are you planning?"

Willow raised her hand as though to waive away the concern in Tara’s voice. "I know Buffy when she gets like this, stubborn as a mule and no amount of persuasion from us will change her mind. She’s convinced herself she has to be out of his way. Don’t you see Tara? That means she really does love him."

Tara looked perplexed. "She left because she loved him?"

"Exactly. If she hadn’t cared, she would never had felt she needed to run away. She’d afraid of him, of what he can make her feel. After Angel, she didn’t want anyone to make her feel again. But William has. We can’t allow her to ignore that, Tara, to run away from true love."

Tara nodded slowly, still skeptical. "I see that. But how will you convince her to come back to Charleston? Should we go convince William to try speaking with her again?"

Willow shook her head, a devious glint in her eyes. "He’s as bad as Buffy in his own way. No, the better solution is to force them to talk things out, clear the air. And where’s a better place to do that than on a voyage at sea? They can’t ignore each other then."

Tara finished tying her bonnet strings as they closed the door to the suite. "Willow, you promised not to speak with her. Besides, Buffy’s not going to agree to come back with us."

"Oh, I know. We’re just not going to give her the choice." Willow’s grin turned impish as she watched Tara’s eyes widen as she realized just exactly what was in the works.

"Why Miss Rosen, are you planning what I think you’re planning?"

Willow giggled. "Yes, Miss McClay, I am. We’re about to become kidnappers."

~~~~~~~~~~

The afternoon classes had dragged by and Buffy was relieved when the clock finally reached the point where Mrs. Bishop dismissed the group. She felt drained, as though all the things that made life sparkle had suddenly gone. She should go find Dawn, she must be here now, but she needed to pull herself together before that.

Maybe a bit of a lie-down would help. She hated to think she was sulking in her room over this, but her nerves were on edge, her mind replaying over and over again the confrontation in the garden. What would she have done if he’d called her bluff, taken her in his arms and kissed her senseless? Begged her to come back, to be his? She was so pathetic. She knew she wouldn’t have been able to refuse, she’d almost gone after him as it was.

She heard a knock out in the common room that served as the sitting area for the teachers who shared the small cottage with her and the attendant sound of someone answering the door. Then a knock sounded at her door. She rose and straightened her skirts as she went to open it.

"Elizabeth, there’s a gentlemen here with a note, says it’s urgent."

She took the folded piece of paper and saw familiar handwriting, Tara’s careful precise script. Her eyes scanned the page. Willow taken very ill, please, can you come help?

She hurried out to find the man she vaguely remembered from William’s ship sitting and waiting. "Mr. Clement?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Miss Willow, is she alright?"

He shook his head. "I don’t rightly know ma’am, Miss Tara, she just came up and asked if I could bring that note to you, she seemed all kind of concerned."

"Have they summoned a doctor? Or her family?"

"I’m sorry ma’am, she just asked if I would hurry and find you. She said you’d know what to do."

"Well, wait just a moment, let me get my things." She hurried in and gathered her wrap and purse, snatched up a blanket.

"Ellen, I’ll be back in a bit, my cousin’s taken ill and I must go see to her." The other woman nodded and Buffy hurried out with Clement.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"They said they’d be in the captain’s cabin I believe, ma’am."

They had reached the ship in record time, the stately Anne that floated in the harbor. There was much bustling and loading about it, but she ignored the confusion, intent of getting aboard. He was likely to be there, must have told Tara she was here, but she’d cross that bridge later. Her stomach twisted at the thought of Willow being ill.

She remembered where the captain’s cabin was, where she’d had her little heart to heart with William so many weeks ago and she knocked softly at the door before pushing it open. The room was empty, save for a bundle curled under the blankets on the bunk in the corner.

She hurried across the room. "Willow, are you . . ."

And then she heard the door shut behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Finn? He’s at a farm about another half day up the river. I wondered when they were going to send someone after him. The boy’s taken pretty bad, last I heard."

"That’s what we’d been told. Mr. Randolph, I thought he was to come stay here with you?" Wesley asked the lanky man as they stood on the small river dock.

Randolph nodded. "He did, for the first bit. But making bricks is hardly a scintillating activity." He smiled. "Once he was satisfied that the operations were proper, he said he was going to scout out the area, make some new maps of the swamp region up river."

"And that’s where he was taken ill?"

Randolph nodded.

Xander spoke. "Would you be able to give us directions to the cabin where he was staying?"

"I should be able to, he lodged up there with the Fosters, they aren’t too hard to find."

Randoph paused, "If I might ask, you two don’t appear to be with the U.S. Army. Why are you so set on finding Finn?"

"His wife is a friend of ours and she just found out she was expecting. When we heard of his illness, she asked us to try to find him."

His face softened as he listened to their story. "I didn’t know Finn had a wife, poor thing. Well I expect she’ll be wanting his kit he left here as well."

Wesley and Xander exchanged glances. "Yes, that’d be wonderful. Do you still have it?"

"Sure, come up to the house with me and we’ll get it."

They strolled from the dock up towards the large home that graced the swell of a hill, chatting about the latest news in Charleston, where Randolph kept a home, and the business interests he had there. He was clearly intrigued by the new option they offered in the local shipping community.

"Would you care to stay the night and make a fresh start in the morning? It’s getting late in the day, you wouldn’t be able to reach the Fosters before nightfall."

Wesley and Xander exchanged a glance. They didn’t wish to delay, but Randolph’s suggestion made sense.

"That would be most hospitable of you."

"Excellent, I’ll have you shown to your rooms and Finn’s kit brought to you. We’ll have a causal supper and I look forward to talking with you more."

He excused himself and they were led to their rooms. Within moments, a dark skinned girl appeared at the door and handed them the bundle of Finn’s belongings. Wesley rapidly flipped through the papers and found what he was searching for quickly.

"He did carry it with him." He held up the marriage certificate in triumph. "Dated and witnessed." He eyed the paper. "So do we head back? Or go on after him? This is sufficient for what we need."

Xander looked at the paper. "You know, it may seem like a wild goose chase, but I think we should go. I can’t say I hold a great deal of love for the Wilkins family in my heart, but she seemed to really be quite taken with this boy. I know Harmony’d like to know for sure how he is, and what it means for her and the child."

Wesley nodded. "So we’ll push on in the morning?"

"I think so." He smiled. "Am I turning into a sentimental fool, Wes?"

Wesley chuckled. "I’ve heard love will do that to a man."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy whirled to the door. And then looked again at the bed. She marched across to the bundle of blankets and pulled back the covers with a flourish to reveal nothing more than a mound of blankets and pillows.

Her shriek would have been heard back to Boston if the Anne hadn’t been such a well-built ship.

She retreated back to the door, trying the handle which refused to give, then pounding on the unforgiving wood in frustration. "William! You’d best let me out of here now."

But there was no sound from the other side of the door. She paced back and forth, her fury increasing with every step. How dare he do this? Trick her into coming on board ship and locking her in his cabin. Did he really think she’d be more inclined to talk with him now?

And then it hit her and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. Was he planning to take her back to Charleston? Just cart her off like, like some sort of cargo? Had she ever thought she loved this scheming, nefarious . . . pirate?

She bit her lip so hard she drew blood as her eyes narrowed and she paced back to the door. She might not be able to get out it now, but he’d best watch his step when he came through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

William made it back to the ship with only moments to spare before the tide began to change and they needed to draw anchor and begin the voyage. He’d sent a final note to Dawn, and included a little extra pocket change for her first bit of allowance, and then, ignoring the pull to go back and try to plead his case with Buffy one last time, he bade Boston farewell.

The crew offered him some strange looks as the flurry of leaving port went on around him, but he ignored them as he headed to his cabin. Clem would have everything under control, and all he wanted was a stiff drink and time to himself. He thought briefly about finding Willow and Tara, but dismissed the idea. They’d likely want to chat more, and he just wasn’t up to it at the moment.

He found the door to his cabin locked from the outside, an unusual occurrence, but he shrugged, turned the large key and unlocked the door as he swung it open to find himself with an armful of very angry Buffy.

"You bastard." She slapped his face and tried to wriggle around him as he stood planted in the doorway. He caught her just as one of the sailors rounded the corner and gawked at the pair in the doorway. William glared and shut the door behind them as he lifted her back into the cabin for privacy. He still wasn’t sure what she was doing here, but he intended to find out.

"Let me go." She squirmed again against him, her voice laced with venom.

He finally found his voice. "Buffy? What are you doing here?"

She gave up the struggle for the moment as she hissed at him, "Oh, that’s most amusing, Mr. Montgomery. You trick me, kidnap me, and then want to know why I’m here? Why don’t you tell me? Or better yet, let me off this ship?"

He stared at her, chest heaving from her exertions, hair falling down for that prim little hairstyle that must be her teacher look, and all he wanted to do was kiss her silly. He strongly suspected she’d bite his tongue if he did so, so he refrained. Then her words filtered through. Kidnap her?

"Buffy, I didn’t kidnap you."

She pulled away from him them and marched to the bed, pointing to the disordered mess. "So what do you call this?"

Had she become a bit touched in the head? He sincerely hoped not. "My bunk?"

She stomped her foot. "No, the body?"

"The body?" He was starting to worry now.

"Yes, the body. Willow? My ‘sick’ cousin who you lured me here with? Who clearly isn’t ill." The look she gave him was full of reproach that cut him even though he was entirely innocent. "How could you do that, William?"

Oh. Oh. It was becoming clear to him what had happened.

"Buffy?" The big sad eyes were now filling with tears. "No, sweetheart, don’t cry."

She wiped at her eyes furiously. "Don’t call me sweetheart."

Right, endearments later. "Buffy, I didn’t do this. I’ve been in town all day since I left you, I didn’t ask you out here or lock you in. But I think I know who did."

She looked at the blankets again and then back to him. "She wouldn’t?"

"I think she might. What do you say we go have a little talk with your cousin?"

She searched his face. Either he was a very convincing liar, or she was going to have to strangle her cousin, because he looked remarkably guileless and had seemed as confused by her presence as she was.

"Very well. Let’s go speak with Willow. And then I want off this ship."

He briefly wondered if he should mention they were already headed out of port, but decided against it. While he wouldn’t have pulled this little stunt, he was a firm believer in making the most of one’s opportunities. And Buffy being here was clearly a heaven-sent one.

Maybe there was a chance to change her mind after all.

Chapter 23

The door to the cabin swung open unexpectedly and Willow shot a quick glance at Tara. “I think she’s figured it out.”

“Willow! Tara!” With flashing eyes and the righteous fury of a Valkyrie, Buffy charged into the cabin, William heavy on her heels, grinning broadly.

They both rose to their feet sheepishly. “Buffy, what a surprise, what are you doing here?” Willow asked, avoiding her gaze.

“Willow, you’ve never been a good liar, don’t start now. What were you thinking?” Her lips were tight as Buffy stalked forward.

“I’m just going to leave you ladies to chat for a bit.” William hastily stepped to the door. There was a storm brewing and he thought he’d just as soon not be a party to the wrath of Buffy. After all, he needed to stay on her good side if he planned to try to woo her back to him.

Willow made a helpless sound as the ungrateful William ducked out the door.

“Alright Willow, what is this all about?” Buffy brandished the note. “I was frightened beyond belief when I received this. I thought you might be dying.” The tremble in her voice brought Willow up short.

“Oh Buffy, no, we didn’t mean to scare you. Did we, Tara?”

Tara shook her head. “Buffy, I’m sorry, we were wrong to trick you that way, honestly we know that. We just didn’t want you to miss your opportunity for something special. We didn’t mean any harm.”

“My opportunity for something special? What are you two talking about?”

“William.” Willow said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh no, don’t you start an Anya on me now, Willow.” Buffy fluttered back and sat down on one of the bunks, slightly embarrassed. “I don’t know what he’d told you, but it was a mistake, one I regret, and one I won’t repeat.” Her face softened for a moment. “I appreciate what you were trying to do here, but Willow, Tara, that’s simply not the life for me.”

The pair looked at each other, confused. “Buffy, I think there are some things you don’t know.”

She took a deep breath. “Well, then why don’t you fill me in?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy opened the door to the cabin and slowly walked into the narrow hallway, breathing in the salt air that stung her lungs just a little.

William really loved her. Or so he’d declared to her closest friends, to his brother even. And he was going to break the contract, for her, no matter what the cost.

Had they gotten that right? Was it possible? Or was it just another line he’d fed them to salvage their opinion of him after her abrupt dismissal the day they’d left. After all, it wasn’t as though he wasn’t capable of spinning pretty words when he wanted something.

Yet they’d seen so convinced, so sure of his sincerity.

It startled her, that he would do that. That he thought she was more important than the arrangements made to further the passage of ships and trade and all the things that men’s lives revolved around. That he would rather have her.

She paused before knocking on the cabin door. Was she ready to face him? Knowing this? Because it meant a risk for her as well. She’d known Richard Wilkins since she was a little girl. He was ruthless about getting what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was William and his connections. There would be a price to pay for her and him if they went forward.

So the question was, would she go the safe route and return to Miss Greenlee’s, or would she take the chance and accept what she thought he would offer her when she entered that door?

She realized she didn’t know the answer yet as she knocked softly on the door to the captain’s cabin, but she could start with an apology. She tried to calm the flutter in her stomach as the door swung open.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Buffy?” He seemed surprised to see her so soon. “Get everything sorted out then? All patched up?”

She nodded. “Willow and Tara had some interesting things to tell me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh did they now? What exactly about?” His tone was still slightly stiff.

“You, mostly.” She motioned to the small table. “What do you say we have a little chat? And would you happen to have a cup of tea?”

A small smile crept onto his face. “I think that can be arranged. Give me a moment.”

She settled her skirts as she folded her hands primly on the table.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He returned in moments and gave her a steaming cup, settling across the table with the other. His breath caught just a little as he watched her take a delicate sip to the dark liquid. He almost wanted to pinch himself. Was she really right across from him? Calmly regarding him with her solemn green eyes? And why the sudden calmness in her demeanor? She’d been so furious before, and now, now she seemed positively sedate.

He’d learned enough about her to know such a facade masked still waters.

“I think we have some unfinished business to discuss, William.”

Hearing her say his name gave him hope. She’d dropped the formality again and he took it as a positive sign. And yet he was still left without the swagger of before. He wanted to say something cunning and flip, to see if he could coax a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips like he had so often in the past.

But that was before he’d lost his heart to her. Before it meant anything. Now . . . now, he didn’t dare do anything that might cause her to skitter back into her shell again. Because now it really meant something.

He was ready to grovel if necessary.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“So.”

“So indeed.” She lifted her teacup again. “I’m guessing we’ve already started for Charleston, haven’t we?”

He was a little surprised she’d figured that one out, but then again he’d always known Buffy was a sharp tack from the first day he’d met her.

“We’re a ways out from port now. No turning back.”

She pondered that for a moment. “No turning back. Then I suppose we can only look forward?”

“I suppose so.” He titled his head to the side as he studied her. There were faint shadows under her eyes he hadn’t noticed before, traces of sleepless nights that gave him pause. She was thinner as well. He should have put his foot down, insisted she come with them, have straightened out this tangle long ago. And now she was giving him the moment, the chance, the opportunity to do so.

He tried to compose precisely how he should say this as he fingered the emerald ring nestled in his pocket. The one that had been in the Darlington line for years, and rightfully sat on the Lady of the family’s finger. The ring he wanted to slip on her finger. But he needed to get this right, to have the perfect words to persuade her of his devotion and affection.

He didn’t have the chance. She took the lead.

“Did you mean what you said, earlier? That you loved me?”

“With all my heart Buffy. I--”

She raised her hand to stop him. “No, please, it’s alright. I believe you. It seems I have an apology to make.”

“You do?”

She slid her hand across the table and lightly laid it across his, the light touch causing him to shiver with remembrance of what her soft flesh felt like between his. “I do. I lied to you, William, in the garden, when I told you that I didn’t love you.”

If his heart could have danced independent of his body around the room it would have kicked up its heels in the wildest of reels at her statement.

She release her clasp of his hand. “But I’m not sure that it’s enough.”

The music stopped with a screech and his heart missed a step in its dance.

“What on earth do you mean? I love you and, you me. What more is there to ask for?” He already knew the answer to that, knew that merely loving the other party wasn’t enough. Passion and fire would burn, but trust and affection would provide a foundation for something that would see them through the hard times that would lie ahead. And she obviously knew it as well.

“I’m not sure if I can trust you, William. I just need some time.”

“Buffy, I’m not going to marry Harmony . . .”

She stood and stopped the desperate flow of words tumbling from his lips. “William, please. I’d rather you didn’t explain right now.”

He rose too, stepping closer, sure that is she’d just let him press his case, he could convince her. She closed her eyes and stepped away from him, leaving him facing her back, slumped shoulders and bowed head silent testament to the futility of pleading his case.

He followed her, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. “Buffy? What can I do?”

She was very still, barely breathing it seemed, until she exhaled slowly and whispered, “Just give me some time, William. This . . . you . . . everything is just a little overwhelming right now. Could you do that? Please?”

It took everything in his power to slowly withdraw his hand, but he turned and left the cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sight of the small dock protruding into the dark water was welcome after the day spent working their way up the river. Though the weather was cool and they weren’t plagued with the pests of summer, the exertions under the heavy wool of their coats combined for an uncomfortable extremity of heat and cold as dusk threatened to descend.

“You think he’ll be here?” Wesley looked back at Xander.

“I hope so, after all this. The Fosters were sure he was headed in this direction when he wandered off. If he’s not here, I think we may have to assume the worst.” Xander sighed. “I’m not sure he’ll be half the man this Harmony seems to think he is, but if we can find him, at least he’ll serve to stop Wilkins from forcing Will to go through with that daft contract he signed.”

They glided along the dock until they were in reach and Wesley tossed the rope and moored them securely. The path was well-cleared as they walked through the forest of pine.

”Who are you?”

Xander started at the sudden intrusion to the peacefulness of the day’s end quiet, marred only by the occasional call of a bird. The voice belonged to a small girl, clad in a well-washed calico and firmly clutching a rag doll to her chest.

Wesley knelt to look the child in the eyes. “I’m Mr. Wyndham-Pryce and this is Mr. Harris. We’ve come to see about a guest, a Sergeant Finn who we think might be staying with your family.

The little girl plucked her thumb from her mouth. “The sick man?”

Wesley shared a look with Xander. “Yes, the sick man. Can you take us to see your father?”

The little girl nodded and began trotting up the path, Wesley and Xander close on her heels. The house that came into sight was neat but small, little more than a wooden enclosure that would provide some measure of shelter, but little else. A woman appeared in the door as they drew closer, shading her eyes.

“Sarah? Where did you get off to?”

“Mama, Mama, look what I found!” Sarah grabbed Wesley’s hand and tugged him as she continued to clutch her dolly tightly with the other. Xander noticed the stiffening of the woman’s back as she took in the two well-dressed men.

“Ma’am, we’re so sorry to call on your home in this unexpected manner. My friend and I are searching for a gentleman named Riley Finn on behalf of his wife, who has been most distressed by his long absence.”

“His wife?” The woman’s face softened slightly. “We didn’t know Sergeant Finn was married. The poor man’s just now starting to recover, he’s been so ill he’s hardly had the strength to speak. Likely explains why he’s been thrashing around so, eager to get home, I reckon.”

“Indeed.” Wesley permitted Sarah to lead him closer to the door and made a small bow. “Allow me to introduce myself and my friend, Mrs. . . . .”

“Edwards. Sadie Edwards. My husband’s Elijah, and he’s been out hunting this morning. He’ll be back soon.”

Wesley smoothly introduced launched into introductions, watching as Mrs. Edwards took their measure. She seemed slightly nervous, but he assumed most women living out here might be a bit thrown by two strangers arriving unannounced. He suspected their clothes and groomed appearance helped matters somewhat, but she still appeared ill at ease.

“So you’re just here for Sergeant Finn?”

“Yes ma’am. His wife is expecting and has been quite distressed in his absence.”

That seemed to seal the matter. “Oh, poor girl. Well, come with me, he’s been staying out in the barn, we just don’t have the room in the house.”

She shut the door to the house firmly behind her and led them around to another wooden structure and pulled open the door to reveal a man laying on a pallet, shivering under his blanket, still clearly racked by the lingering vestiges of a fever.

Xander walked in and knelt beside the pallet. He laid his hand on Finn’s forehead and noted the slight flush in his checks. He’d been in Charleston long enough to have seen a case or two of the dreaded swamp fever. Finn, though wan and haggard, seemed to be through the worst.

“Sergeant Finn, can you hear me? My name is Xander Harris, I’m a friend of your wife.”

It seemed with some effort that Finn’s eyes slowly opened. He motioned and Mrs. Edwards reached for a bucket to the side, lifting a hollowed gourd full of water to his lips. “The fever takes the water out of a man, makes him right thirsty.”

Riley took several swallows and seemed to find his voice, cracked though it was from disuse. “Harmony? You know Harmony?”

Wesley stepped forward and nodded. “Yes, we’ve met Mrs. Finn and I know she’ll be most delighted to see you’re on the mend. The last word she received indicated you had succumbed to your illness and she’ll be most delighted to see you again. She has some wonderful news for you.”

A smile crossed the thin face. “I was worried she’d given up on me.”

Xander shook his head. “No, she’s quite devoted. But we really must see about getting you back as soon as possible. I’m sure Mrs. Edwards has provided excellent care, but you could use the services of a doctor.”

Mrs. Edwards nodded. “Poor man stumbled out of the woods a few months back, wild-eyed and raving and near about dead. Wouldn’t have been Christian to turn him away. But he’d be better off getting back to his missus.”

“Mrs. Edwards, I hesitate to impinge further on the hospitality you’ve already shown to Sergeant Finn, but could we trouble you for lodging for the night so that we might make a fresh start in the morning? I’m afraid neither Mr. Harris nor myself are familiar enough with the river to attempt to navigate it in the dark. You’d be amply rewarded, of course.”

Mrs. Edwards picked up Sarah, who’d been clinging to her skirts throughout and glanced at the house and then back to the gentlemen. “Well, like I said, we just don’t have no room in the house, but you’re welcome to bed down out here if you want. I can bring you out some supper once we’ve got it made.”

Xander managed to suppress his laughter at the expression on the rather fastidious Wes’s face at the prospect of bedding down with the cows and horse that were the current occupants of the barn.

“We appreciate the offer, Mrs. Edwards, and we accept. We’ll be just fine out here,” Xander told her.

“Good. I’ll bring back some blankets.” Sarah watched them over her mother’s shoulder, giving a shy wave as they disappeared back around the corner to the front of the house.

Chapter 24

“William, you keep going at that rate, and you’re going to wear a hole in the planks. The Anne’s a good ship, but she can only take so much, man.” Clement looked as though he were hard pressed not to laugh at the display in front of him.

William stopped. “Very amusing. Here I thought I was paying you to pilot a ship, not play the court jester.”

Clem raised an eyebrow. “Now, Will, don’t be tetchy. Women are enough to drive any man a bit over the edge. Especially small, pretty, blonde ones. I prefer mine smooth, sleek, and seaworthy, like this beauty.” He patted the rail with fondness.

William joined him along the railing. “Now that is the truth. Unpredictable they are, you know that, Clem?”

“So what happened?”

William sighed. “I made an error in judgment. I thought I could fix it, keep her from finding out, but I wasn’t quick enough. So now she’s convinced she can’t trust me.”

“Is that all?” Clem snorted. “Will, I’ve seen you walk into many a bar and chat up the lasses, have them ready to follow you to the ends of the earth by the time you’re ready to leave. You’re a silver-tongued devil. I’d have thought you could talk any woman into trusting you.”

“Not her.” William shrugged. “Buffy’s had some experience with silver-tongues that bit her good and proper, so she’s a bit shy. And I knew a bit of that, wasn’t trying to just chat her up, you know.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. “I want to make her my bride.”

Clement smiled. “Well any cross-eyed fool could see that, Will. I’ve never seen you moon over a woman before, so I imagine if you’re that taken with her, she must be something else. I reckon you’ll just have to give her time, win her trust back.”

William nodded. “I suppose so. It’s just that sometimes I wonder if we’ll wait too long.” He glanced up at the sky as the choppy waves brought a sharp roll to the deck. “Wind’s picking up, looks like we might have a storm coming in.”

Clem followed his gave to the rapidly moving clouds. “Does look like it might get choppy. I’ll get some extra hands on deck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Edwards had brought plates of food and extra blankets as promised. After a welcomed meal, a bit of rearranging of the piles of hay created beds that were adequate, if not plush. The day’s exertions had taken their toll, and Wesley and Xander settled into the barn near the Sergeant, who’d quietly drifted back to sleep after a few more questions about his wife’s welfare.

“Seems like he does care for her quite a bit,” Xander mused, trying to find a comfortable spot in the hay.

“Indeed. We can feel quite the Cupids I suppose, reuniting them and clearing the way for William and Buffy,” Wesley replied.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Speak for yourself, but I’ll pass on the role as a small winged cherub, my friend. I’ll just be happy to get back home. There was a time when this would have been quite comfortable, but I’m afraid feather mattresses have spoiled me.”

“I’ll second that,” Wesley murmured. “Do you think it odd that we never saw Mr. Edwards? I’d have thought he’d come out and greet us at the least.”

“I don’t know if he ever came back. Maybe he’s gone off somewhere else to hunt and she just didn’t want us to know she’s alone.” Xander rolled to his side and gave the pile of hay one last punch as he finally found a comfortable spot. “See you in the morning, Wes.”

“Goodnight, Xander.”

Wesley shifted again, but couldn’t find a position where something wasn’t poking him in a horribly unpleasant manner. He sat up, stifling a groan as he felt something pop in his back. Maybe a short walk would help.

He quietly slipped from the barn and out into the moonlight that bathed the small clearing that comprised the Edwards’s homestead. The night was mostly quiet, with only the occasional chirp and trill that still sounded strange to his ears. He’d have never guessed that he’d be sleeping in the barn outside some backwoods cabin when he’d left London only a month ago. His mother would quite possibly have a fit if she could see her youngest. He smiled at the thought.

A flash of white caught the corner of his eye and he turned to see a pale apparition floating towards him. He stifled a scream as he realized that the ghost was merely a young girl, perhaps thirteen at the most, with pale features and almost white blond hair. Must be another of the Edwards, little Sarah’s older sister perhaps.

He wondered idly how many children they must have. Mrs. Edwards had mentioned them not having much room. Of course it wouldn’t take many to fill that tiny cabin. The ghostly girl drew nearer and glided to a stop a few feet away.

“Are you gentlemen here to take me back?” Her voice was low and broken and she barely raised her head as she asked him the question.

“What? Us? No, no, we’re not here to take you back.” Wesley backed a step away as she raised her dark eyes to his, her face resolute.

“Mistress Glory wishes me to service you here then?” She reached for the edges of the thin cotton sheath and Wesley watched with horror as the child pulled the cloth over her head, revealing a stomach several months along.

He caught the gown and held it back to her, eyes averted as a lantern cut through the gloom of the night and a man’s voice barked, “Tabitha, what you doing out there, girl?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy watched the door with trepidation. He was going to come back. She knew that. His eyes had grown large when she’d announced her lack of trust for him, and her need for him to give her time. He’d started to protest, but she’d refused to listen. And then he’d risen to his feet and left the room.

Leaving her alone. Which of course was what she’d requested of him. But the problem was that now she was lonely, with nothing to do but think. A tiny part of her wished that he’d stayed, protested his love for her, swept her off her feet. Literally.

She shook her head. She really must stop reading those sorts of novels.

She could always go and talk with Willow and Tara. But although she didn’t doubt their good intentions, she still felt slightly miffed at their chicanery in luring her to the ship. No. Best keep to herself for now.

She wandered the cabin, sparsely furnished with the essentials and little else until she came to his trunk. It was unlocked, half thrown open. She reached for one of the shirts that lay exposed and admired the softness of the fabric. Buffy couldn’t resist the urge to pick up the cloth and inhale the scent that was uniquely him. It made her body flush, remembering the way he’d held her that night, her face buried against his neck, soaking up his essence.

She hoped he’d stay away almost as much as she hoped he’d come back.

The cabin was growing dark as she made her way back to the bunk, pushing aside the pillows and blankets that had been piled beneath the covers so that she could slump dejectedly in their place. She pulled out the small watch tucked in the pocket of her jacket and glanced at the dial, but couldn’t quite make out the hands. It must be growing late.

She considered for a moment lighting the lamp that sat on the table, but realized it wasn’t worth the effort. She was tired. The day had started early, and she’d never expected it to end this way, somewhere afloat in the Atlantic, lying in William’s bed. She hoped he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable wherever he’d been forced to bunk. She felt the slightest twinge of guilt at uprooting him from his cabin; after all, it wasn’t his fault that she was here. But not quite enough to leave.

Buffy started to slide beneath the blankets, but considered the state of her dress. She was rumpled enough already and she’d not have a change until they reached Charleston. She stood and crossed to the door, firmly turning the lock before she began rapidly unlacing the fastenings. She slid the layers of fabric over her head, straightening the wrinkles as best she could as she carefully laid out the garment over a chair.

The corset was next and she breathed a sigh at its removal, laying it discreetly under the folds of the dress. Her boots unlaced, she was finally comfortable enough to sink down unto the mattress and lose herself in sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wesley was sure that he would awake at any moment from the ludicrous dream he was having, in which he was holding the shift of a pregnant child somewhere in the backwoods of South Carolina.

He opened his eyes to the bright glare of the lantern. Right. Not a dream, then.

He shielded his eyes and continued to proffer the gown back to the girl, who seemed in her own trance-like state.

Xander appeared at the edge of the clearing as the man behind the lantern grabbed the girl and pulled her behind him.

“What’s going on here?” Xander demanded.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” the man demanded, spitting emphatically as though to underline his point. “Now I told ‘im, if I take these girls, I don’t want no one coming up here and botherin’ them no more. We’re gonna raise’m up right, as God in Heaven intended.”

The girl had slid the garment back over her head and now stood behind the man, a near wraith-like shadow aside from her bulging belly. She watched them with frightened, distant eyes.

Xander stepped closer to the light. “Sir? I assume you’re Mr. Edwards? Your wife allowed us to shelter here in your barn for the night, so that we could make a fresh start to return our friend, Sergeant Finn, to the city. We mean no harm to the girl.”

The man regarded him squarely before lowering the lamp slightly. “Tabitha, get on back in the house now, girl. You need to get your rest.” His tone was gentle and she turned and retraced her steps as requested.

After she was out of earshot, he turned back. “I’m Elijah Edwards. You’re Mr. Harris, and Mr. Pryce?”

“Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, actually,” Wesley broke in, but stopped at a look from Xander.

“Wyndham-Pryce. Quite a mouthful there. My wife told me you was here. She thought you seemed good folks, coming way up here to find the Sergeant for his wife. I just got a trifle concerned when I seen the front door open and Tabitha gone.”

He sighed as he directed the lantern towards Wesley. “I’m sorry if I startled you, son. Tabitha’s got a habit of sleepwalking that’s nigh on impossible to break her of, and it’s getting worse as it gets to be her time. Didn’t mean be to so tetchy.”

Wesley nodded. “I apologize as well, what you saw . . . I must assure you that I did not try to take advantage of Miss Tabitha.”

Elijah shrugged off his apology. “I saw you trying to hand her clothes back. I reckon most men wouldn’t be so polite like about it. Well, sorry for the disturbance, I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

Elijah gave a curt nod and started back towards the house. Xander shook his head and turned towards the barn. Wesley stood frozen. Something, something the girl had said . . . Glory. Wasn’t Glory the lady of the night that had threatened the ward William had taken in?

“Sir? Mr. Edwards? Could I ask you one more question? Why did Tabitha ask me if Miss Glory wished her to . . . er, service me? Who is Miss Glory? And who brought that child here after doing that to her?”

~~~~~~~~~~~

William seized the rope and hung on for dear life as another enormous wave washed over the deck, tilting the Anne dangerously starboard. He yelled commands into the wind as the ship’s mates raced to fight the effects of the storm and keep the ship from keeling under the forces of the wind and water.

By the time the worst of the storm had passed in the early hours of the morning, he was soaked to the bone and chilled to the marrow, but exhilarated at the battle with the elements. He’d missed this, the tug of war that was part and parcel of riding the sea, the teamwork of the crew pulling together like a well-oiled machine at his command.

“I think we’re through the worst, just rain from here on, judging by those clouds. Winds have slowed a good bit.” Clem appeared by his side. “I’m putting on the night watch, sending the rest below to dry off, sleep a bit before morning, if that’s alright with you.”

William nodded and clapped Clem on the back. “Tell them they did well, that was a hell of a storm and the Anne came through with only minor damage. Give an extra pint round, too.” He started towards the causeway to the captain’s quarters. “I’m going to change into something dry, call me if the weather picks back up.”

He reached the door and turned the handle, jolted as he realized it was locked. Buffy. He’d thought she might have joined the other women, but apparently she was still holed up in his cabin.

He considered for a half second walking away. Then with a slow smile he slid the key to the cabin from his pocket and unlocked the door. He wasn’t walking away anymore.