"Willow?"

"Dawn! What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Bath."

Willow extended her arms, frowning slightly as she watched Dawn hobble towards her.

"And what have you done to yourself?"

"Oh, it’s a long story, are you here for a reason, Willow? Has Buffy returned?"

"No, she’s not back. I’m so sorry Dawn." Willow embraced her younger cousin warmly, then helped her to a chair. "I’m here visiting your mama."

"And how is she?" Dawn regarded her anxiously, hoping against hope that her mother would be in better spirits.

"No better, I’m afraid. She keeps telling me to fetch Elizabeth from her room, and she’s still embroidering pillow slips for the wedding. I’ve just seen her up to her bed."

Dawn’s heart sank at this. There would be no hope of returning to Bath with Aunt Joan now. Her father would probably make her stay to look after her mother, a task she did not relish one bit.

"Aunt Joan thinks she may have news."

At this, Willow’s face lit up. "Really? I’ve missed Elizabeth so much. It was bad enough that she disappeared to America for four years, and now to go again so soon. Where is Aunt Joan, I must talk to her."

Right on cue Aunt Joan bustled into the room, folding Willow in a large hug.

"My dear, how are you? Not planning on gallivanting off too, are you?"

"Of course not. That is more your style, Aunt. And Elizabeth’s too. Do you have news for us?"

Aunt Joan chuckled to herself. "Unfortunately, it would seem that at least one Summers girl has taken after me, if not both of them." She stripped off her travelling gloves and gave them to the waiting servant. "Dawn was in no fit state to travel, but she was going to give me no peace until we were back in Devon. So here we are. And yes, Willow, I have a feeling I know where your cousin is. I need to talk with my brother and then I will be going on to Shell Cove House." She raised a hand as both Dawn and Willow opened their mouths to speak.

"No more now, it has been a long, tiring journey, and we both need to rest. Visit me soon Willow, and I will let you know what I’ve found out. Goodnight my dear."

Willow kissed her aunt goodbye, then stooped to kiss Dawn.

"Don’t worry, Dawn. If anyone can find Elizabeth, it will be Aunt Joan. And they say Caleb is quite recovered from his unfortunate accident. Poor thing, that must have been such a shock for her. I wonder if perhaps she thought she would be blamed in some way?"

"Perhaps." Dawn thought about it for a moment. "But it doesn’t make any sense. I thought she really wanted to marry him, she was so excited by it all."

"She was, at first. But then, I don’t know how to explain this to you." Willow hesitated, as if she was wondering whether she was breaking a confidence in telling Dawn this. "She found out that Caleb wasn’t the man she thought him to be and asked me to help her run away."

"And did you?" Dawn’s eyes were wide with shock now. "Do you know where she went?"

Willow shook her head sadly. "I would have helped her, but I didn’t get the chance. All I know is that she talked about going to Plymouth."

Dawn’s heart sank even further. "Plymouth? But isn’t Plymouth full of sailors? Do you think something might have happened to her? It’s been such a long time."

"I hope not. We must put our faith in Aunt Joan, but I have to say that even if she finds her, I fear that Elizabeth won’t want to return. She really doesn’t want to marry Caleb, but I hear that he still wants her back."

"Oh, dear. You must tell me, Willow. Why didn’t she want to marry him?"

"I can’t say any more, but I don’t think Aunt Joan will make her come back if she doesn’t want to." She looked at the clock on the mantle and picked up her reticule. "I must be going now…"

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because at that moment the drawing room door opened and the very last person they expected to see, walked in, and stood silently in front of them.

Dawn let out a small scream and Willow just stood, glued to the spot as they both surveyed the weary figure of Buffy Summers drop into an armchair in front of them, and burst into noisy sobs.

------------------------------------------------------------------

She’d looked so sad as she’d left the bedroom. He wanted to go to her, comfort her, but the way she’d turned her back on him had told him she didn’t want to be followed. So he just lay on the bed staring at nothing and thinking about what they’d both just done. The first time they’d done it like that. Loving each other without words. He’d found his release, but he didn’t feel relaxed, only more tense and wound up. The immediate danger of Ethan was gone but she still wasn’t sharing. Neither her experience in the barn, nor the contents of the letter, the envelope of which was in his trouser pocket.

What he needed was the anger back. Anger at least spurred you on. This despair was like a lead weight, holding him in place, and it seemed to have settled like a smothering blanket over the house. It had always been a spooky place, but just now he was feeling it like he never had before. The oppressive darkness was back. Her smiles had brought sunshine into the place so much so that he knew now he could never go back to how things were before she came. Even if she didn’t want to go with him, he decided he was going to leave, go to Rossendale, and start a new life.

His mind drifted back to the night he’d rescued her. To the way he’d picked her up and just taken her away, making the decision for her. That’s what he should do now. March into her bedroom and tell her she was going with him. It’s what Spike would have done. The slayer may have fought him, Buffy was so like her, but Spike would never have given up. He made sure he got his girl.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It certainly had a ring to it, and he could just see his Elizabeth in the role. Fighting the demons and vampires, her torrid relationship with Spike. Her joining him in the dark. It could have been written for her.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, but eventually he dragged himself from the bed, slipped back into his clothes, then poured himself a large brandy and drank it down in one go. Ethan’s body needed burying and goodness knows what state Alex and Tara were going to be in when they woke up. He tossed off another glass, welcoming the fiery heat as it burned his throat.

Ethan was dead, and the reality of it was only just beginning to hit him. One minute you were there, walking, talking, and then suddenly you weren’t. This morning he’d been warm living flesh and now he was lying cold and lifeless on the floor of the barn. It had all happened so fast, almost too fast for William to take in that he was now finally free. The man who’d made his and Alex’s life such a misery couldn’t touch them any more.

Because he was dead.

He closed his eyes for a moment as the effect of the brandy kicked in, then he was reaching for the bottle again and pouring another. He hadn’t realised how much his hand was shaking until he saw the liquid sloshing around in the glass. There’d been so much blood, and Ethan with his flesh burned and torn apart was a sight he never wanted to see again. Just a few moments, he thought, groping for the chair behind him and sitting himself down. Just to make sense of it all, calm himself down, and another drink for courage.

Bury Ethan first, then go and talk to Buffy. She was going to Rossendale if he had to drag her there, he decided. But he couldn’t seem to get himself out of the chair. He looked towards the window at the rapidly fading light, and a chill rippled down his spine as he thought about the grisly scene in the barn. He’d have to drag the body to the woods in the dark and dig a hole while it lay there. Had Tara closed Ethan’s eyes? He couldn’t remember. And suddenly he didn’t want to do it, just couldn’t face that shocked, lifeless face.

If there’d ever been ghosts in the house, they were all around him now, reminding him of things best forgotten.

His mother crying. His father, Ethan and other strange faces, laughing and roaring as they staggered through the house. Hands everywhere as they groped and petted him, pushing him from one to the other, calling him a pretty little boy. Someone dangling him from the window. Soft hands and a soothing voice telling him something he didn’t yet understand.

He hadn’t really known his parents, all he had of them were vague memories, flashes of pictures and sounds. But sometimes it felt as if they were right here with him, dragging him back.

Past. It was all in the past. And they were just ghosts. They couldn’t hurt him, not any more, because he wasn’t going to let them.

He rose from the chair, swayed and steadied himself on the edge of his desk. Find Buffy, hold on to her and never let her go, that’s all that was important right now. If he could do that, then everything else would fall into place.

She wasn’t in her room and as he looked around, wondering where she might be, his gaze fell on the envelope lying propped against her pillow. He didn’t have to read it. Without a second thought he was running down the stairs, taking them two at a time, flinging wide the front door and calling her name into the darkness. He ran, and kept on running until he reached the large ornate gate that marked the entrance to the estate, and then he knew that she’d really gone.

And there it was. Not exactly anger he thought, bending over and catching his breath, but at least he was feeling now. Enough that he could get up and do something about this. Kill Caleb himself if he had to, but she certainly wasn’t marrying him. Not if he had anything to do with it. They’d come too far for him to just give up.

He made his way back to the house, a little light headed from the run and the effects of the brandy. And the realisation that he did have some of Spike in him after all. Spike would have fetched The Slayer back from hell itself, and that’s what he was going to do for Buffy.

The unfamiliar façade of the house came into view as he trudged back along the drive, the soft night air restoring him a little. This was a view he’d rarely seen, the whole house outlined against the darkened sky. Bathed in moonlight, it looked enormous, and it was all his. He was a wealthy man, and wealth carried with it power. All he had to do was use that power to get the things he wanted in life. That’s how it worked. He’d use it to set Buffy free from Caleb, then it was up to her to decide what to do with her life. And if she decided that she didn’t want to be with him, then he’d use it to help her do whatever made her happy.

The house had always been a very quiet place, but tonight there seemed to be an extra stillness in the air. As if the living and perhaps even the dead, were all holding their breath and waiting. William let himself back in, locking the door, then making his way to the kitchen where he found himself something to eat and drink, because he hadn’t had anything all day. The letter was still where she’d left it on her bed and now he could go and read it. Because whatever it said, it made no difference. He’d already decided what needed to be done.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"Leave her alone, Harold. Can you not see how distressed she is?"

Aunt Joan fended off Buffy’s father as he continued with his incessant questioning. He’d done nothing but shout at her since she’d come back and now she was so weary she could hardly make out what he was saying.

Her aunt stood between them, trying vainly to calm her agitated brother down, but Buffy could see that she was fighting a losing battle. All the frustration and rage over what she’d done had come pouring out in one long tirade that had started from the moment he’d realised she was in the house and was starting to look as if it would never end. Willow and Dawn had been sent out, but her aunt had refused to leave and for that she was grateful.

Elizabeth closed her eyes in the hope that if she didn’t have to look at his florid face then it wouldn’t sound quite so bad, but it didn’t work. Everything was so loud here, so many people talking, all at once. And, it seemed, all to her. Asking questions, demanding to know where she’d been, how she was. Patting her and stroking her, insisting that she drink a cup of hot tea. Didn’t they know that all she wanted was to be left alone?

Dawn and Willow had nearly hugged her to death, her father looked as if he wanted to beat her to death and her mother had appeared, calmly asked her what kind of flowers she would be choosing for the wedding bouquet, and then left saying that she would pick them now. Only Aunt Joan seemed to realise that what she needed most was peace and quiet.

This transition back to the outside world had been harder than she’d ever imagined it would be. Everything seemed so noisy and bright and there were just so many people. As her father droned on at her, Elizabeth’s mind drifted back to her first morning at the Angelus mansion, remembering how quiet it had seemed and how accustomed she’d become to the still, calm of the place. She opened them to find him still there, and Aunt Joan now tugging at her hand.

"That’s it, I’m taking her to Shell Cove House with me. Come along Elizabeth, you may stay with me until this has been sorted."

And so she let herself be taken over by her aunt, who always seemed to know what to do, because, in truth, her father was scaring her half to death with the things he was saying. If she was going to go through with this marriage to Caleb, then she needed to get herself to a place where she could at least accept it. And that was never going to happen if her father continued with these accusations and threats.

"If you carry on like this you will only frighten her into running away again, will you be quiet."

It was Aunt Joan’s ‘I will not be disobeyed voice’ and Elizabeth was aware of her father backing down a little. At least he’d stopped shouting.

"You always were an interfering old biddy. You have no right to take her, Joan, anyone would think that she was your daughter."

"Stop snivelling, Harold. I’ve never liked that habit. Elizabeth is coming with me, and when we are all calm we will sit down and talk about this rationally, and without shouting. I can’t abide men who shout."

Elizabeth felt her aunt’s arm around her as she gently ushered her towards the door. Her father was still talking, taking on the petulant, whining tone that he always did when engaged in an argument with his sister.

"What am I going to tell Caleb? He is bound to hear of this."

Aunt Joan opened her mouth to reply but Elizabeth stepped in first. She only managed a small voice as she said the words, but they needed saying. It was why she’d come back, after all.

"Tell him I received his message, and I understand perfectly. He has only to set the date."

Her father was so surprised at her words that he took three steps backwards and bumped into a side table.

Aunt Joan kept her composure well, but Elizabeth saw the look of mild shock that flickered across her face. She glared at her brother one last time.

"Remember, I can call in that loan at any time, Harold. Elizabeth will not be forced to do anything that she does not wish to do voluntarily."

But her father wasn’t listening. Elizabeth could see that his mind had already jumped to the logical conclusion of what she’d just told him. He straightened his jacket, rubbed his hands together and patted her on the shoulder.

"I think you should visit with your Aunt for a while. I need to get in touch with your fiancée and tell him the good news. He has been most anxious for you Elizabeth."

And then as if to add to the surreal nature of the evening, her mother swept in clad only in her nightgown and carrying the embroidered pillow slips that she had been working on.

"So, Elizabeth, would you prefer roses or marigolds on these? It really doesn’t matter to me which, I have enough thread. But I think roses are so pretty."

She raised an expectant face to her daughter who stood in front of her thinking that it was just as if she’d never left, and her weeks at the Angelus mansion, William, Tara, Alex and Ethan had been nothing but a dream.

-----------------------------------------------------

It was the first time that William could ever remember the range being cold.

And it was strangely symbolic, a sign that it really was time to leave this place.

He left the kitchen, thinking that he needed to find the deeds to his properties in the north of England. They should still be in his father’s study, if Ethan hadn’t taken them, and that reminded him that they needed to do something about Ethan’s body. The law was unlikely to catch up with them here, but there was no sense in taking any chances. No one would ever understand why Alex had to do what he did.

Alex was just coming downstairs as he entered the hall, dishevelled and still covered in splashes of blood, he didn’t look any better today than he’d looked yesterday.

"Is she gone?"

William nodded to him, wondering how Alex knew that.

"She’s gone back to’im, ‘asn’t she."

"I don’t know. Has she?"

Alex turned for the kitchen and William followed him, trying desperately to swallow down the anger that Alex’s comment had made him feel. Store it up for Caleb, he thought. Alex doesn’t need this now.

"You knew she was going? Why didn’t you stop her? Or even better, tell me?"

Alex threw himself into Tara’s rocking chair and tipped back his head, closing his eyes and letting out a small groan.

"God’s blood, that laudanum is ‘orrible stuff, my ‘ead is splitting in two."

He opened his eyes again and looked levelly at William.

"She told me after she gave me the laudanum, she’s not stupid. And ‘ow could I ‘ave stopped ‘er anyway? Buffy does what she wants, you know that."

William folded his arms, his jaw clenched. That much was true, but they were helping her anyway, whether she wanted them to or not.

"What was in the letter that Ethan gave her?"

"Caleb said he was marrying ‘er sister unless she went back to him. ‘Ave you buried ‘im?"

"My god."

William’s first emotion on hearing that was strangely, one of pride. Just like Buffy to give everything up for the ones’ she loved. She’d put herself in danger protecting him from Ethan and now this for Dawn. It was quickly replaced by the feeling of annoyance that Alex seemed to know so much that he didn’t. Again, he controlled it, his hatred of Caleb growing by the moment.

"No, I haven’t buried him."

"Then I’ll do it." Alex rose from the chair and moved over to the sink where he worked at the pump, splashing his face and hair with water. "I killed ‘im, I’ll bury ‘im. Better do it before mother gets up. ‘Ow was she?"

William shrugged his shoulders. "I don’t know, shocked, hysterical. She loved him."

The distraught expression returned to Alex’s face momentarily, but he shook it off. "Don’t suppose she’ll ever speak to me again."

"Give her time, Alex. Everyone’s in shock right now."

"Aye." He finished slicking back his hair, then walked towards the kitchen door. As he swung it open William could see that he was steeling himself for the task, and suddenly it didn’t seem fair to leave it all to Alex. He’d killed Ethan for all of them.

"Hold on, I’ll help you."

"Don’t be daft William. What about the sun?"

"I’ll cover up." He snatched the old gardening coat that hung on the row of pegs near to the door and draped it over his head. "We’ll do it in the woods, in the shade. Let me help you."

Alex looked at him for a few seconds, then a very small ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Alright, come on. But you look mighty silly."

William followed him down the steps, aware that Tara had just come into the kitchen and glad not to have to face her just now.

"Do you know, Alex, I really don’t care. This isn’t about us any more, it’s about Buffy. And Dawn," he added.

"I’ll get the guns ready then."

"We’ll do what we have to do."

They both slowed as they approached the barn.

"What if ‘e not there?"

"Stop it, Alex. Of course he’ll be there."

"Reckon ‘e ‘ad the devil coming for ‘im. Like you father did. Did you know who ‘e was? Ethan, I mean."

"I’ve guessed he was part of the family. Am I right?" William dropped the coat as they cautiously entered the barn, relieved to see Ethan’s body outlined at the far end. Alex could spin a very bizarre tale when he wanted to. He thought back to the night where Alex had thought that Buffy was a vampire, and that reminded him why they were doing this.

"Your father’s brother. Bastard, of course."

"So, that makes you one of us."

"S’pose so. Don’t know as I like that."

"You can’t choose your family, Alex. Come on, let’s do this."

-----------------------------------------------------

"Ahh, Jonathan. Prepare the small carriage, I need to make a call this afternoon."

"As you wish, ma’am. May I be enquiring as to the destination?"

"You may, Jonathan." Aunt Joan turned to him, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "How are your nerves?"

"My nerves, ma’am?"

"Yes Jonathan, your nerves." She opened the drawer of her desk and drew out a supply of her Devon calling cards. "I really must get some new cards, these are so old fashioned." Then she rose and made her way to the window, pulling back the curtain. Elizabeth was seated on a bench in the rose garden, her expression much the same as it had been since she’d brought her to the house last night. Sadness mixed with resignation, and she still wouldn’t say why she was so adamant to go through with a wedding that she so obviously didn’t want.

Aunt Joan let the curtain drop. "The Angelus mansion. What do you know of it?"

She turned back to her coachman noticing that his face had blanched a little at the mention of it.

"Strange tales, ma’am. Don’t know as they’re true, but everyone’s heard the stories."

"Of the devil and vampires?"

"Yes ma’am. But you don’t mean to…"

She watched his discomfort with considerable amusement as it dawned on him just who they were visiting.

"Yes, Jonathan, it seems that we are finally going to find out if those legends are true. How do you think I should dress to visit a vampire?"

Jonathan’s eyes became impossibly wide at that as he mumbled his excuses, and fled to the coach house. Aunt Joan laughed after him, her expression turning serious as he disappeared. She’d never really taken the Angelus legend lightly and just the mention of the house was enough to inspire fear in the stoutest of hearts. But if her theory was correct, that was where Elizabeth had been hiding these last few weeks. And the only way to find out if it was true was to go there herself and ask.

--------------------------------------------------------

"You got that key then?"

William felt in his pocket. "Blast, it’s in the coat, I’ll go and get it."

As he turned there was a loud thud and the sharp crack of splintering wood.

"No need."

Alex kicked at the door once more and this time it flew open as the lock gave.

"Shall we?"

"I could have fetched the key."

"More fun this way. Where do you think ‘e keeps it?"

"The money?" William said, stepping into the room. "The wardrobe maybe, look in there, I’ll go through the desk."

"What if there isn’t any?"

"There has to be. I found the deeds in my father’s desk. I own a house and four cotton mills in the north of England Alex, and they’ve got to be making some money. I’ve never seen any of it, but it’s got to be somewhere. Keep looking."

"Right." Alex disappeared into the vast wardrobe and started throwing clothes out. "You going to pay Caleb off then?"

"I don’t know." Papers fluttered to the floor as William sorted through the desk drawers, frowning at the bills and official looking notes. Some covered with stamps and seals looked important, so he set them aside.

"It might not be that simple."

"Told you. We get the guns and just go fetch ‘er."

"And how far do you think you’d get with that? Damn, there’s nothing here, maybe it’s in a bank or somewhere. What does it even look like?"

"Be fun though, to see ‘is face." Alex re-appeared from the depths of the wardrobe. "Nothing ‘ere, either."

"There has to be. I can’t believe he didn’t keep some of it here. Look again, under the bed, everywhere, we’ll take this room to pieces if we have to."

As he looked towards the floor near to the bed something caught his eye. "What’s that?"

"What you looking at?" Alex came over to join him. "Loose floorboard?"

"Just under the bed."

They both dropped to their knees, William hooking his fingers under the loose board and pulling at it. It came away easily and the sight that met his eyes caused him to sit back on his heels and let out a long breath.

"My god."

"Think we’ve found it then?"

"I think we have. Some of it, anyway. I’ve never seen anything like it."

William reached out and picked up a handful of the gold coins that filled the void under the floorboard, weighing them in his hand, letting them drop through his fingers. It was like the games they’d played as children. Pirate’s treasure, only where that had been pure imagination, this was real. And he could feel the power in the heavy shiny metal as he buried his hand into the considerable pile.

Caleb could have it all, he didn’t care, as long as he gave up his claim to Buffy and Dawn. She’d have to go with them too, William decided. Buffy’s father was a greedy man, he’d be easily bought and Buffy would always be vulnerable if they left Dawn behind.

"We’re going to win this one, Alex. This is our ticket away from this place." He replaced the floorboard and straightened up. "We’ll get the girls and go to Rossendale. I need to get a lawyer to sort through all these papers, find out what they all mean."

Alex pulled himself up too, screwing his heel down onto the floorboard to push it firmly back into place.

"Girls?"

"We’ll have to take Dawn too. Caleb will always have her to hold over Buffy if we leave her behind."

"What if she don’t want to come?"

"Buffy will have to persuade her.

"I’ll get the guns."

William looked down at his blood smeared shirt and his stomach gave a little lurch as he remembered how they’d carried Ethan into the woods and buried him. "We can’t just march in and shoot Caleb."

"Why not?" Alex said, following him as he left the room. "I’d do it."

"No you wouldn’t. You’re not a murderer."

"What am I, then?"

"It was a crime of passion, you acted under great provocation and you did it for all of us. That’s entirely different from killing someone in cold blood. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

Alex shook his head and gave a small laugh. "You’ve got some fancy talk on you sometimes."

"And you’re not as stupid as you make out. What you did, it will change you, just as it changed Buffy. Did you know she thought she’d killed someone?"

"Yes."

"Christ, was there anything she didn’t tell you?"

They reached the grand staircase and began to climb down.

"No need to bite me ‘ead off. Not my fault if she wanted to tell me things, ‘cos god knows, you never talk to me. Nobody ever talks to me unless they’re shouting orders or insulting me."

"I don’t talk to you because you never talk to me."

"I’m talking to you now, ain’t? I?"

"This isn’t talking, this is arguing."

"No it’s not."

"Yes it is, Alex. You wouldn’t know how to start a sensible conversation."

"I bloody well would."

"Go on then, open up a topic of conversation and I’ll discuss it with you. See how far we get."

They were at the bottom of the stairs now, turning into the corridor for the kitchen.

"Alright then. What’s it like?"

"What’s what like?"

"You know, being in bed with a woman. What’s it like?"

"I am not telling you about that."

"See, you won’t talk to me."

"A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell, Alex. My God, what was that?"

The two of them nearly jumped clean out of their skins as they stood for a moment, taking in the sound they’d just heard. Turning slowly towards the front door, they both just stared at it, dumbstruck by the sound of the knocking.

Another great boom as the sound echoed around the great hallway and Tara came running out of the kitchen wiping her face with her apron.

A visitor. He’d never had a visitor before. Who the hell would want to call on him?

William’s mind raced through the possibilities, dismissing Buffy as soon as he’d thought of her. She wouldn’t knock. The law? It couldn’t be. But as he looked at Alex he could see that he’d had the same thought.

He caught hold of Alex’s shirt as the latter turned for the kitchen.

"It can’t be. Nobody knows what happened. Buffy would never have told anyone. We mustn’t panic."

Alex took several deep breaths in an effort to control himself. "I know, I know. I’ll be back ‘ere if you need me." He shrank against the corridor wall, watching William as he stared dubiously at the door. "You going to answer it then?"

The knocking sounded again, and then a man’s voice was calling hello through the door.

This day couldn’t get any stranger, William thought as he walked reluctantly towards it. He slid back the bolts, wondering all the while who he was going to find on the other side, then the bizarre thought that it might be Ethan risen from the dead popped into his mind and he hesitated.

Don’t be stupid, he chastised himself. Ethan was in his grave, and there he would stay, but who the hell was this? He opened the door very slowly, peering round it to be met by the site of a very short man wearing an overlarge coachman’s coat. Relief flooded through him as he took in the fact that this was a flesh and blood living person who, for some reason, wanted to visit this place. Maybe he was lost and needed directions, he thought, opening the door wide now so that the man could see Alex and Tara who’d both crept up behind him now, as well as himself.

He was just thinking of a suitable greeting when the man looked from him to Alex, then gave a shriek of terror, turning and running for all he was worth towards the carriage that William now saw was parked on the drive.

He could only make out one word as the man showed him a clean pair of heels and started to climb back into the driver’s seat.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Emptiness. As if every emotion had physically drained from her body, leaving her numb and without feeling. When she saw him approach, limping down the gravel path as he leaned on his cane, she couldn’t even summon up the energy to feel the revulsion that she should surely have. She watched as he waved away his serving man and continued towards her. She didn’t smile at him and neither did he at her.

"Elizabeth."

"Caleb."

"You’re looking tired."

"I am."

He sat himself carefully beside her, putting down his cane and stripping off his gloves.

"So, you’re back."

"Did you leave me a choice?"

He contemplated her for a moment. "Where have you been, Elizabeth? I’ve had the best detectives looking for you."

"He didn’t tell you, then?"

"Ethan. No, he kept it very close. More money, you see."

"This is most improper, you visiting while my aunt is away."

"Would you have refused me, knowing your baby sister is at home? Such a pretty girl, too."

"Stop it, Caleb." She found it then. Some feeling at last. At least she could feel for Dawn, if not for herself. "There is no need of this. I will marry you if you will promise to leave Dawn alone. You have my word." She raised her chin and gazed at him, calmly, realising that she didn’t fear him any more. This she was doing out of strength, not weakness. Leaving William was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, so nothing else in her life could ever be as bad. It was a small consolation.

"Do I have yours?"

"My word? Would you believe it if I gave it?"

She dropped her gaze so she wouldn’t have to see the self -satisfied look of a man who was enjoying his victory just a little too much. Picking at the fabric of her dress, she thought how unlike the beautiful regency gowns she’d become so used to wearing it was. A few spots of rain dropped lightly onto the material and she watched them spread and join up as it started to rain in earnest.

"You must promise me, Caleb. And know this. I am not the same girl who ran away from you, I’ve changed in more ways than you can imagine. And if I catch you anywhere near Dawn, I will finish the job this time. Make no mistake of it."

"Interesting. I look forward to finding out just how you’ve changed, my dear. Now fetch me my stick, we must go indoors or we will catch a chill in this rain."

"Fetch it yourself." Elizabeth made to get up but he grabbed at her dress, stopping her.

"Come now, where’s my dutiful fiancée? Fetch me my stick, my love."

She glared at him for a moment, then picked up the stick and jammed it into his hand.

"I cannot understand why you should still want to marry me. We’re not going to make each other happy. This is just perverse."

As she stood before him Elizabeth wondered if she should just kill him. There were guns in the house. All she had to do was what Alex had done to Ethan. It was almost worth hanging for.

He hauled himself up and she noticed for the first time how his face had altered after his injury, one side drooping slightly. He caught her looking and his expression darkened.

"You need to be punished, Elizabeth, and as my wife the law will allow me to do that. See what you did to me."

All she could do was run, but this time there wasn’t anywhere to go, because everywhere she went, he’d be there.

"I’ll do it," he called after her as she ran for the house. "You can’t escape me."

She kept on running until she was in her bedroom, slamming the door in the surprised servant’s face. She would get through this. She would. Because she was strong. All she had to do was endure and remember her time with William. Memories that would keep her going and get her through this.

Memories of happy times, Caleb couldn’t take those away from her.

But when she thought of William’s face, all it did was make her cry.

---------------------------------------------------------------

William watched as the coach executed a sharp turn on the damp, gravel drive. He caught a glimpse of the woman inside, a look of considerable surprise on her face, and then one of the horses shied, and reared up, causing the carriage to tilt dangerously. There was a shower of gravel as the coachman fought for control and then William was running towards it, closely followed by Alex.

"Mind their feet." Alex cautioned him, lunging for the bridle of the frightened horse and hanging on for grim death.

William went for the other and did the same while the coachman brought them to a halt, his face still carrying the terrified expression that he’d had earlier. Then, when William was sure that the horses were under control he ducked back into the cover of the porch.

They all waited as the door of the carriage opened, before the coachman could get down, and an attractive, middle aged woman peered round the opening.

Alex continued to calm the horses as the coachman scrabbled down to help her, opening an umbrella to shade her from the light drizzle, and then William found himself face to face with an older and considerably plumper version of Buffy. He smoothed down his shirt and raked a finger through his hair, only now remembering that both he and Alex were covered in blood. That coupled with the legend, and little wonder the man had thought them to be vampires.

It was fittingly ironic that the only proper visitor that he’d ever had, should arrive today, of all days. And this could only be Aunt Joan. He’d heard a lot about her from Buffy and as she made her way towards him he hoped fervently that she had come with news of her. And that it would be good news.

He didn’t know what to do, bow, shake her hand. Tara was behind him, mumbling something, but he couldn’t make it out so he extended his hand, thinking that she looked like a hand shaking sort of person.

"Well, that was terribly exciting." The woman winked at him, which took him aback somewhat, until he reminded himself that she was a Summers, and that the Summers women quite possibly didn’t represent the female population as a whole with their behaviour. Then she extended her own hand and shook his with a surprisingly robust grip.

"And who do I have the pleasure of?"

She kept hold of his hand as he tried frantically to remember his own name, which at that moment escaped him entirely.

"William." It came to him at last. "It’s William, madam. And you are?"

Was that rude? He didn’t know what the correct form was. Did one ask a lady who she was?

She didn’t seem to mind, in fact she seemed to be finding the whole incident extremely amusing. Shouldn’t she be having a fit of the vapours or something after her adventure with the carriage?

"Lady Joan Carlington." She pulled him a little closer, "and you’re supposed to bow to a woman and shake hands with a man. But I’ll take it as a compliment."

She regarded him, not unkindly as he blushed hotly at his faux pas. "Lord Rossendale?"

"Where?" He’d looked round before he remembered that he was actually Lord Rossendale, and then he managed a nod. "That’s me, I mean, I am. Please, you must think us terribly rude, would you like to come in out of the rain?"

Tara went into a frenzy of curtseying as Lady Carlington swept into the house, looking around her as she entered the grand hall.

"What a spooky old place." She stopped so abruptly that William nearly fell over her. "And who is this?"

"Alex, my cousin."

William gave Alex a push and made a small bowing movement, but he didn’t catch his meaning at all.. And Lady Carlington looked as if she was enjoying herself immensely, not thrown one jot by being presented to two men with no social skills whatsoever, who were both covered in blood.

She scrutinised them once more, looking them up and down approvingly.

"Well, I can see why Elizabeth didn’t want to come home. I certainly wouldn’t have. Perhaps we could have some tea?"

"Of course, er, would you like to come with me."

They all went, Tara and Alex too, as he led Lady Carlington to the drawing room. She settled herself down on the sofa and made a big show of smoothing down her skirts. Tara suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be providing tea and scurried away after another round of curtseying.

"So, my Lord. I have a very important question to ask you, and I demand an honest answer. I will have my curiosity satisfied."

William clasped his hands behind his back, hoping she wasn’t going to ask what he suspected she was going to. Because if she asked him to reveal the extent of his relationship with Buffy then he was going to die of embarrassment right in front of her.

"Don’t look so worried," she continued. "It’s a simple question. I’m dying to know. Are you a vampire, or aren’t you?"

Chapter 27

"Not a vampire, eh? Pity, you have the look, you know. Pale and interesting. Of course, I knew it as soon as I set eyes on you, but my word, you gave Jonathan a fright."

Lady Carlington appeared totally at ease as she sat in front of them, looking every bit like a queen graciously granting an audience to her subjects.

"So, Alex, and your country seat is where?"

"Reckon I'm sitting on it."

Lady Carlington roared with laughter at that, causing Alex to look at William in a mystified manner.

"But I am."

"I like you Alex, you amuse me."

She turned her attention to Tara. "And you my dear, are?"

"Tara, m'lady. Alex's mother and William's nurse."

William felt his cheeks going red again as Tara said that. The notion that she should still be describing herself as his nurse was suddenly terribly embarrassing.

"You've done a wonderful job with them both. You must be very proud.

Tara's face fell a little when she said that. William saw her flick a quick glance at Alex who was staring down at his knees and refusing to catch her eye.

And he knew that Lady Carlington was missing none of it. Engaging and light-hearted as the conversation was, he could tell that she was appraising them all. He wished desperately that he'd had the chance to change before she'd arrived.

"I was at the Battle of Waterloo, you know. The Duchess of Richmond's Ball was the event of the season, but the horror that followed was quite dreadful. Those memories, they never leave you. A man shot at close range is not a pretty sight."

As she said that, all three of them looked up at once, and William could see Lady Carlington's gaze flicking momentarily to the bloodstains on their clothes.

"Sorry about our appearance, er, the pig died."

"And we 'ad to chop 'im up," Alex chipped in helpfully.

"How unfortunate."

She picked up her tea and they all followed suit, the silence rather strained as they drank it. Alex looked more than once as if he was going to suddenly bolt out of the room, and when they'd finished, Tara took it as an excuse to gather up the cups and leave.

Lady Carlington sighed. "Now I suppose you would like news of Elizabeth?"

"I would, Lady Carlington." William tried to keep calm, and not sound so desperate but he couldn't stop the anxiety from showing. "Where is she, is she well?"

"She is at my house, and safe for now, but I have to tell you that she seems quite intent on going through with the marriage to Caleb. I cannot understand it, and I was rather hoping that you could enlighten me."

"He threatened to marry her sister if she didn't go back to him.

"Aha. Just wait until I get my hands on the man. What a scoundrel!"

"Is there anything we can do to prevent it? I love her Lady Carlington, she's going to marry me, not him."

"Unfortunately, my brother can be stubborn as a mule when he wants to be and he's a terrible snob. I'm afraid he's quite taken with this alliance he's struck with Caleb. They're a very old family, and Caleb's invested rather heavily in one of my brother's hair-brained schemes."

"But I can give him money." William felt his heart starting to beat a little faster at the prospect of a solution coming so soon. "And a title, surely he would prefer his daughter marrying a lord over a reverend?"

Lady Carlington looked at him, somewhat surprised. "You do know what they say about your family, don't you?"

"The vampire legend?"

"My brother would never want to be associated with this family. They say the devil came for your father."

"Nothing but idle gossip." William rose from the chair and began to pace the room. "She can't marry Caleb, you don't know what he's like. He's involved in all sorts of perverse activities. His reverend persona is just a façade."

"Who told you this?"

"Elizabeth did, it was why she ran away in the first place. She'll marry him over my dead body."

"And mine." Alex lifted his head, spoke, then went back to studying his knees.

Lady Carlington went very quiet, as if she was thinking through a difficult problem.

William waited expectantly, willing her to come up with a solution for them, and knowing that he couldn't go for much longer without seeing Buffy. It was only now that she'd gone that he was able to appreciate fully what she meant to him.

"Can I come and visit with her?"

"Shh, I'm thinking." Lady Carlington waved him away as if it was her house that they were in, not his. He obediently sat himself down and waited.

"I have it." She flashed them both such a mischievous look that William was beginning to see just who Buffy took after in her family.

"Now, boys, are you up for a little blackmail?"

------------------------------------------------------------

"I want you to talk to her Willow. You've more chance of getting her to open up. Ask her about William.

"William, who's William?"

"If I'm not mistaken, someone who loves her very much, but my main concern here is Elizabeth." Aunt Joan shuffled the papers on her desk and glanced at the top sheet. Hmm, very interesting. "Tell her I've seen him, but do not force the issue, let her tell you in her own words."

"What are you planning, Aunt? Have you found a way to stop this wedding?"

"I may have, my dear." Aunt Joan walked around her desk and slipped an arm around her niece. "But the success of it depends firmly on William. If he truly loves her, he will find the strength to succeed, with more than a little help from me, of course. But there are things even I cannot interfere with. My brother is at liberty to marry his daughters to whom he chooses, and I cannot stop him, unless I take drastic action. I would prefer to remain within the law."

She walked Willow to the window and they both looked out at Elizabeth who was sitting in her usual place on the garden bench. "I could do this myself, Willow, but I think it's important for both of them that he does it. It's something you will learn, my dear. Always let a man think that something clever was his idea.

"And is he? A hero?"

"I have a feeling that young William is about to surprise himself. I only hope I'm right, for both their sakes. Now, off you go, and tell Jonathan I need him to deliver some papers to Lord Rossendale. I think he's going to find these very interesting."

---------------------------------------------------------

"It's been two weeks since you came back, Elizabeth, when are you going to come and visit me?"

"Oh Willow, don't be offended. I just don't feel like going anywhere. I feel so trapped that I just can't move."

Willow sat herself next to her cousin and regarded her anxiously. "You don't look well, why are you so intent on going through with this wedding?"

Elizabeth turned away, unwilling to lie to Willow, who was being her usual steadfast friendly self. "Don't ask me that, I don't want to lie to you, but I cannot tell you, either."

"I think Aunt Joan knows what it is. Elizabeth, she's seen William."

"Has she?" Elizabeth turned sharply. "How does she know about him?"

"She's Aunt Joan, Elizabeth, she makes it her business to know.

"Who is he?"

"The man who saved my life."

"Do you love him?"

Elizabeth didn't answer. The very mention of William's name caused such an ache in her chest that she could scarcely breathe, let alone talk.

"I'll take it that you do."

"Oh, Willow." Elizabeth found her voice at last but it was full of despair as she spoke. "It was like finding something you've never dreamed of having. He rescued me on the night I ran away, and I did grow to love him, very much. He was so kind and gentle, and I've made such a mess of things. I thought I'd killed Caleb that night, and now here is my punishment. Did she say how he was?"

"No, only that she'd seen him. Why won't you let us help you, there are people here who want to share this burden with you. Why won't you let us?"

"Because I'm the only one who can do this, Willow. Don't ask me to explain, but I've always felt this, even when I was a little girl. I'm the one who has to protect everyone else."

"But we're not children anymore. And you're not alone any more either. Come, give me a hug and we'll talk about something more cheerful. Did you know that there is someone in the village that has a dancing dog?"

"Really?"

"No, not really, but it made you smile a little. William wants to see you, will you see him?"

"I can't Willow. If I see him I'll weaken, and I have to do this."

Willow engulfed her in another hug and she leaned gratefully against her. Nobody really understood the sacrifice she was making. What she was giving up to save Dawn.

And poor William, was he missing her as much as she was missing him? They hadn't parted on very good terms and that made this even worse. What if he did think she'd only been using him?

Her head ached from all the questions. Questions she suspected that she was going to be asking herself for the rest of her life.

-----------------------------------------------------

Sometimes you just don't notice that the years have slipped by and the person you once were isn't there any more. One day, when you're not looking, someone else sneaks in and takes your place.

Tara paused in front of the ornate mirror in the drawing room, gazing wearily at her reflection. Greying hair, plump figure, lined face. Where had she gone? That pretty young lass who'd come to this place all those years ago, who'd had such hopes and dreams. And who was this tired, old-looking woman that stared back at her?

Her breath caught as, for a moment she thought she saw Ethan standing behind her. But there was no-one there. All she had now were memories.

Ethan, who had dazzled her with his dark looks and strength, his sharp wit and his dangerous sexuality. From the moment she'd set eyes on him she'd been obsessed. All she'd wanted was him.

And there wasn't anything she wouldn't have done for him. She knew he dallied with other women, perhaps even William's mother, but it was always her that he came back to. She took care of him like no other woman ever had, and he knew that.

When she'd become pregnant she'd obeyed him and gone to a woman in the village who'd had made it disappear. Twice she'd done that for him. Bu the second time the experience had been so dreadful that she'd thought she would surely die. So that when she'd fallen with child a third time she'd kept it to herself, too frightened to do anything about it. Even to tell him, and when he'd found out he'd been so furious that she thought he was going to kill her.

He didn't need a bastard child to remind him of what he was himself. And what use was another bastard in the world anyway?

He'd said it so often that she'd started to believe it, and somewhere she'd made a choice. She couldn't remember doing it, but she had. Ethan or the child? It hadn't been a hard choice because Alex had been an undemanding child, sullen and withdrawn. As if he knew the world didn't want him and so he would have as little to do with it as possible. And besides, she had had more than enough to do with looking after and worrying about William.

Beside Alex's dark, ragamuffin looks, William had looked like a little Angel. On the few occasions that William's father actually remembered he had a son, he would demand that he be brought to the library and they would all make sport of him,

On more than one occasion some of them would think it hilariously funny to take him outside to see if anything amusing would happen to him. And all the while William would just stand and endure it, sometimes with a bemused smile in an effort to try and gain their approval.

Ethan had tried it with Alex once, but he'd shown his father up so much with his kicking and screaming that Ethan had beaten him until he couldn't walk. And that's where it had all started. The cycle of abuse and denial. Alex was wild, and needed disciplining, she'd convinced herself of that, and Ethan was doing it for his own good. And after a while Alex had stopped running to her for comfort , because he knew he wasn't going to get it. And the sport became teasing Alex, because it was so much more amusing to see his rage as they wound him up, than William's quiet acceptance .

William wanted to be loved, but Alex didn't. It had been as simple as that in her mind. But what was done was done. Just as she'd never have her youth back, so she could never have those baby days and little boy days back either.

She remembered what William's tiny arms had felt like as he'd hugged her, and how he would plaster her face with wet kisses, laughing all the while. And how soft his baby skin had been as she'd kissed him back. But she couldn't remember what Alex had felt like to hold as a baby, or when he'd taken his first steps, or said his first word.

She couldn't bring to mind a picture of him at five, seven , ten years old. It was as if she'd been handed a baby, had turned away for a few moments and suddenly here he was, a man.

It had taken Ethan's death to make her realise that she had a son after all. This dark-haired stranger who sat on the sofa, frowning at the pages of a book he couldn't read, was the baby she suddenly and desperately wanted back.

She knew she didn't deserve his love now, but there was something about growing older, about not knowing how much time you had left. The suddenness of Ethan's death, and the thought that she might die herself before she'd had a chance to say things that should have been said a long time ago.

She moved quietly to the sofa , sitting herself down beside him. It took a moment for him to realise she was there and when he did he put down the book and half stood up, but she stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm and pressed him back down.

He sat again, cautiously, a suspicious, guarded expression on his face. Avoiding eye contact as he usually did, so she hooked a finger under his chin and raised his face so that he had to look at her.

It wasn't going to happen just like that. There were too many years of neglect for her to expect that, but she could see from the bleak look in his eyes that he needed her as much now as he'd ever done. She couldn't change the past, but perhaps, if she started now she could make it up to him a little.

He flinched as her hand reached out to smooth back his hair, but she felt him lean against it as she lingered on his cheek. They'd always be her babies, she realised. No matter how grown up they became.

"How are you feeling Alex?"

The question seemed to startle him because he turned away abruptly, leaving her hand hovering in mid air. She brought it slowly back to her lap, relieved that he hadn't just got up and left and then she picked up the book he'd been trying to read.

"I could help you with this. Would you like that?"

He made a non-committal sound, shrugging shoulders that were shaking slightly and then he turned back to her, his eyes a little brighter, glazing over with tears he was desperately trying not to shed.

"You can't just expect me to suddenly start being your son. Just because 'es not 'ere any more."

He held himself stiffly away from her and then she knew for the first time what it had been like for him. What it was like to crave reassurance and comfort and have it denied.

"No, I can't, Alex, but can we try?"

He looked as if he didn't quite believe it. As if he might think she was only dangling this in front of him so that she could snatch it away just as he was reaching for it.

"'Spose so."

It was something. She needed to talk to him about Ethan, but now wasn't the time. As she opened the book she thought that this would do for a start and things could only get better from now on.

-------------------------------------------------

It was nearly finished. The portrait that he'd promised he'd paint and was now beginning to become seriously worried that she'd never see. He wasn't very pleased with it, the colours were all wrong. He'd had to improvise the flesh tones because he didn't have enough paint left to get the exact shade, but it had kept him occupied these last two weeks. And working on her picture at least kept her image fresh in his mind.

It terrified him that he might forget what she looked like, so he stared at it repeatedly. But now, two weeks after she'd left, the image was starting to look like that of a stranger. He was having trouble reconciling what was before him with the woman who'd changed his life so much. Like a half remembered dream, she was fading away and he was starting to think he'd imagined her.

He's sent her a message asking to see her to see her but she'd refused. He knew how stubborn she could be, but this determination that she was showing made him feel such panic. What if they couldn't resolve this in time, and she did go through with this? Where did that leave him? And would she survive it?

He picked up a rag and wiped his paint -stained hands. Where the hell was Jonathan? Aunt Joan had collected some interesting information about Caleb's activities, but they still didn't have enough to blackmail him with as they'd hoped to do. And he wasn't relishing at all the alternative that Alex talked about incessantly.

Sweeping in and snatching young ladies from under the noses of their wicked suitors only happened in novels, and they'd never get anywhere near Caleb, naïve as they were. The result would probably be a grand, romantic gesture that would either get them all killed, or sent to the gallows.

At the sound of the knocking he threw down the rag and raced for the front door. It was already open and a very reluctant Jonathan was being practically dragged inside by Tara. William had explained to him that there were no vampires or evil undead in the house but he could see that Jonathan was still terrified of the place, and of him. It should have been flattering, and a few months ago it would have been, but now he just found it embarrassing. Poor Jonathan, he didn't realise that all who lived here were just a desperately lonely group of very ordinary people.

He caught up with them in the kitchen, Jonathan now seated at the kitchen table while Tara made him some tea. As William entered Jonathan jumped to his feet and bowed.

"M'lord."

William pulled himself out a chair, and motioned him down.

"Please, it's William, we don't stand on ceremony here. Do you have anything for me?"

"Some papers, m'lord. Lady Carlington thought you ought to see these urgently." He reached into his coat, bringing out a large envelope and several smaller ones. "She told me to tell you that she's included the name of her lawyer in Plymouth. He already knows to expect a communication from you."

Jonathan dropped them on the table in front of him and scuttled back to his seat.

William picked them up, flicking Jonathan an exasperated glance. "For heaven's sake man, I'm not going to bite you." It wasn't perhaps the best thing he could have said. Jonathan shrank further into his coat and edged his chair backwards all the while, eyeing him warily.

"Will you take me to Plymouth, Jonathan? Some time next week, perhaps. I need to visit this lawyer, I think."

"Lady Carlington has put me at your disposal my lord."

"Good." William picked up his tea and indicated that Jonathan should do the same. "And Jonathan, there really are no vampires here."

"If you say so, my lord."

William watched, slightly amused now, as Jonathan drank his tea so fast that he must have burned his mouth on it. It was a strange feeling, being called my lord by someone who really meant it, and being bowed to and shown deference with no trace of irony or contempt. It was a very small taste of the power that his position would afford him in the real world. But it was one thing having power and quite another to have the experience to be able use it to get the things you wanted.

As he drank his tea he looked over the papers, thinking through the implications of what he was reading. It would seem that Caleb was a member of more than one dubious society. Clubs dedicated to devil worship and decadence, they were all here, listed by eye witnesses who'd seen him. But none of this was going to help unless they could get signed affidavits, people who would be willing to have it put down in writing that Caleb attended these things. And that would mean putting themselves at risk of exposure. If he could do this then Buffy and Dawn would be free, Caleb wouldn't want a scandal of the proportions that revealing all this would afford him.

He rubbed his eyes and dropped the paper onto the table, nodding to Jonathan as he scuttled past him, then something caught his eye. '… Very much a last resort', he read as he picked up the letter that Lady Carlington had written him.

The House of Lords, the upper house of the English Parliamentary System, and as a lord, he had a seat in it. That gave him a say in the legislative process and also apparently, something else.

…..You should also know, William, that anything you say within the chamber of the house is immune from prosecution by either the laws of libel or that of slander. This means that you can stand up and denounce Caleb, cause an enormous scandal, and there will be no come back to you. Of course, it may not do your reputation any good either, but I very much get the impression that you are not so worried about such things. This would be very much a last resort as hopefully just the threat of you doing so should cause Caleb to relent in his actions…..

Take his seat in the House of Lords? He might as well try and fly to the moon. Just the thought of going to Plymouth was causing such a knot of tension in his stomach that he thought he was going to be sick. What chance did he have of getting himself to London and then standing up in front of all the other lords and making his claims? If Caleb called his bluff then he'd be forced to do it.

And even if he did have the confidence to carry it through there was another matter that he had to clear up. What if he wasn't a lord after all? What if his father was still alive somewhere and he hadn't inherited the title at all? William knew that if someone was missing for a number of years, then they could be legally declared dead. But had his father ever been?

There was only one person left in the house who could answer these questions and she was bustling around collecting up the teacups and wiping the crumbs from the table. She smiled at him as he handed her his cup, then tilted her head and gave him an enquiring look as she caught him staring at her.

"What is it, William? Does Lady Carlington have news of Buffy?"

"No, Tara, it's not about Buffy, I need to talk to you, will you sit down?"

She moved over to the sink instead and started stacking cups. "I don't think there's anything I can help you with. Goodness, look at all this washing up."

William watched her for a while as she busied herself. It was almost as if she knew what he wanted to talk about but even after all this time she wasn't ready to face it. Then he got upand crossed the kitchen to where she was, stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She jumped as he touched her, then sighed and put down the cup she was cleaning.

"What do you want to know, William?"

He leaned over her shoulder and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Do I ever thank you enough for everything you do for us?"

"No, you don't, and flattery will get you nowhere, young man." She wiped her hands on her apron and turned around. "I love you very much William, you know that, don't you?" Her hand strayed to his cheek as she spoke, a slightly far away look in her eye.

"I know, Tara, but you've got to talk to me. There are questions only you can answer, please sit down."

She went, rather reluctantly, to the chair he indicated for her and sat, regarding him apprehensively as he settled himself opposite her.

"I don't remember much of my childhood. What was I like?"

"You were very sweet my dear." She fiddled with her apron as she spoke, inspecting the material closely then letting it drop. "No trouble at all."

"Was that because of the laudanum?"

"Partly." He saw her swallow and purse her lips, then she fished in her apron pocket and brought out a handkerchief. "I did it to keep you safe, William, you must realise that."

He closed his eyes to quell the very unexpected feeling of anger that her words provoked. Again he cautioned himself to save it up for Caleb. Tara did love him, even if it had been a little misguided at times.

"I'm glad you've made it up with Alex. We've lived a strange life here, haven't we? Why did you never tell me who Ethan was?"

"Because if I had, he'd have killed you. On the laudanum you were no threat to him and his plans."

"Please don't cry," he said, as she wiped at her eyes. "What's done is done, and we can't change the past.

He waited to see if she was taking in what he'd said, aware that he needed to tread carefully around her, this wasn't about blame and recrimination.

"Would it help if I said I forgave you? And if you saved my life, then I thank you, but I need to know about my past, Tara. I can't have a future unless you tell me."

She nodded into her hankie, then reached across and took his hand. "Don't send me away, William, I've nowhere to go."

He was up and out of his chair, his arms around her as she broke down. Mentally chastising himself for upsetting her so.

"Don't be a silly thing. Who's sending you away? Won't I need you to be nurse to my children?"

She managed a watery smile at the image that conjured. "When Buffy came, I had such high hopes for the two of you. It wasn't to be, was it?"

"Oh yes it was Tara. We're getting her back if we have to kill Caleb to do it."

"No," she grabbed at his arm as he moved back to his chair. "You mustn't, Buffy wouldn't have wanted that.

"Buffy thinks she has to save the world single-handed. I know what she's like, but I'm going to do this, Tara.

"You'll get yourself killed." Tears poured down her cheeks as she gazed lovingly at him, as she'd always done. "I couldn't bear it."

"Then help me to do it without bloodshed. I need to know what happened to my father. You've never answered that question. Is he dead?"

"Yes."

He didn't know whether to feel relief or sadness. What do you feel for someone you don't even remember?

"How?"

"He was on a ship, bound for America. It sank with no survivors."

Another moment to take it in. He'd had pictures in his mind about what had happened to his father, but never that one.

"I remember that night he left.

Tara was silent for a long while, opening her mouth to speak, then closing it several times. William leaned forward, encouraging her to continue, making eye contact when she tried to avoid him.

"What is it, you must tell me.

"I don't know how to say this, William." She looked at him then, almost choking on the words as she said them. "Ethan isn't the only one buried in the wood."

A chill silence settled over them as her words sank in, filling him with a terrible sense of dread as he realised who she was talking about.

"My mother?"

"I'm so sorry." It was her turn to comfort him now, rising from her chair and folding her arms around him. "They were drinking and there was a lot of noise. Ethan called me upstairs and showed me the body, and asked me to make sure all the servants were out of the way. There were marks on her neck, they knew they couldn't explain it away as an accident, so they buried her in the woods."

She was dead too? Somehow he'd always had a picture of her sitting on a terrace somewhere in Italy, drinking wine in the sunshine, happy because she'd managed to escape from her nightmarish life at the mansion.

"Are you alright, my love?"

He couldn't answer her, not trusting himself to speak at that moment so he just let her hold him. His mother was supposed to have run away, just as his father had, that's what he'd always thought. It was horrible to think she'd been murdered, but a strange relief to know that she hadn't abandoned him after all, and that she wasn't happy somewhere else knowing that she'd left him behind.

It would have been easier not to do this, confronting the past was painful, but at least now he knew. He hugged Tara tighter, knowing how awful it must have been for her to have carried the burden of this terrible secret all these years, then he accepted the handkerchief that she pressed on him and wiped his own eyes.

So he was Lord Rossendale, and all this did belong to him. And now he had no excuses left not to act. There was only one thing left to do and then all his energy was going into saving Buffy.

"Thank you for telling me, Tara. I know that wasn't easy for you. There's one thing more you've got to do for me and then we're going to close this chapter of our lives and look firmly to a new future." He stood up and walked over to the kitchen door, taking the coat from the peg and draping it over his head. Then he extended his hand to her as he opened it.

"Come on, I need you to show me where she is."

--------------------------------------------------------

"How are you, my dear?"

"I'm alright Aunt, please don't worry about me."

"And how can I not worry about you? Shall I sit with you for a while?"

Elizabeth nodded to her aunt and made room for her on the sofa. She surreptitiously pinched her cheeks to bring a little colour into them as her aunt turned away. She knew she looked pale and the sickness she'd been feeling these last few days had put her in even lower spirits than she had been. Her aunt missed none of it.

"So, Elizabeth, you know I've seen your William, don't you?"

"My William?" Elizabeth's cheeks coloured of their own accord at the mention of his name. "He's not my William any more, aunt."

Aunt Joan raised her eyebrows at that. "I think he is, Elizabeth. And you've caught yourself a lord too. I'm impressed."

"Please don't, aunt. I can't marry him and that's an end to it. Don't ask me why."

"I don't have to, Elizabeth. He's told me already. And I want you to know that none of us who love you are going to stand by and let this marriage happen. You must have hope that we will find a solution."

"But how, aunt? My father won't hesitate to marry Dawn off to Caleb if I refuse, or run away again. You know how enamoured he is of him. And even though William is a lord, he'd never want an alliance with the Angellus family. You know that."

"And I've already told William that, but he's determined to rescue you, so don't give up hope, please."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned back against the cushions. If only a solution were that simple and William could come and just sweep her off her feet like he did that night on the cliff path. But that wasn't the real world, that was a fantasy world that they'd conjured between them. A world where everything was possible because they had no one to tell them their love was wrong. Where no one cared about William's family's reputation, where they could be man and wife just because they knew it was the right thing to do. She'd found her true self at the mansion but now she was lost again.

"He's going to rescue Dawn too, him and that Alex. I do like him, he's very amusing. And I have to say I approve wholeheartedly of your choice, Elizabeth. It's just so, you."

"I couldn't face it, aunt. All this worry has upset my stomach so these last few days."

Her aunt gazed at her kindly. "I will ring for tea, it will do you good. Then perhaps you can tell me a little more about William. I understand he cannot go out into the sun."

Elizabeth stayed where she was lying back against the cushion having no energy to move at all. William had said she was his sunshine. He'd also said that he couldn't live without her and she'd said the same about him, yet here they were, still living and breathing. You didn't die of a broken heart, she thought, you lived with it. That was the cruelest twist.

"His skin burns very easily and it makes him sick. That's why no one's ever seen him. How is he?"

"Well, as far as I could tell. Missing you a lot, I think. But it's a strange thing. I very much got the impression that you'd given him strength, Elizabeth, but that he didn't need you for that anymore. That with you gone, he's found his own."

Elizabeth sat up at this, frowning as her aunt handed her a teacup. "Are you saying he doesn't want me anymore?" Her voice almost broke as she spoke. She may have left William but it had never crossed her mind that he'd ever stop wanting her, or even worse, find someone to replace her. Somehow she'd always thought that he'd sit quietly by and just endure this with her.

"I'll speak my mind, as I always do, my dear, and do not look so worried, he does still love you, he told me as much, but I have to say it. You leaving him was probably the best thing that ever happened to him."

"But how can you say that? His heart will be broken , I know it will. And I did it in the worst way. His mother and his father left him, and I did too. How do you think that will make him feel?"

It was the first time that she'd thought of that. Of his parents abandoning him, and now her too. How could that be good for him?

"Elizabeth, young William will grow and be a better man because of this, you mark my words. He's going to find a strength he didn't know existed and when he comes for you, and he will, he'll be a different person to the one you left behind."

"If he comes for me he's going to get himself killed. I tried to stop that, Aunt."

"And do you not think that is his choice? He will decide how much he wants to risk in this, the decision is his, not yours."

Elizabeth put down her cup as a mild wave of nausea overtook her. How could she let William risk everything for love? And how could she stand by and watch him die for her?

"You can't understand what I'm going through aunt. I love him more than my own life."

"And he loves you more than his. Can you not see that that is the point? It works both ways, Elizabeth."

"But he doesn't need to prove himself to me. Why does he think that?"

"He doesn't Elizabeth. He needs to prove it to himself, and you must let him. You'll never be happy together unless you do."

"Caleb will follow us wherever we go, he'll find us. How could we live, knowing that a madman was out there?"

Her aunt patted her arm, then pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry Elizabeth, have I been a little harsh with you? I think these things needed saying. And I don't mean to upset you when you are in such a delicate condition, but William has no intention of running away and believe me, if things go according to plan, Caleb will want to have nothing more to do with you, ever. Now do try and eat something."

Elizabeth stared at the tray of cakes, feeling a small spark of hope for the first time since she'd come back. Aunt Joan could be so convincing when she was in full flow, and if she was helping William then they might just succeed. But the thought of him putting himself at risk still tied her up in knots. And what was that about her condition?

"What condition, aunt? I have a nervous stomach, that's all. I don't mean to worry anyone."

Her aunt let her go and Elizabeth could see that the corners of her mouth were twitching as if she didn't think it appropriate to smile during so serious a conversation, but that she just couldn't help it.

"I'm assuming you shared William's bed while you were at the mansion?"

Elizabeth pulled away, her hands flying to her rapidly warming cheeks as she was overcome by a wave of embarrassment.

"I thought as much, look at me child. I do not blame you, I would have done the same had I been you."

"Really?" Elizabeth looked at her aunt through her fingers, then slowly lowered her hands and placed them in her lap. "You don't think I'm a fallen woman then?"

"Elizabeth, it's me you're talking to, not your father. But did you not consider what the consequences might be?"

Oh my god, she couldn't be. Not with child, she just couldn't be. There hadn't been enough time, or had there?

"You can't marry Caleb if you're having William's baby."

Her aunt carried on speaking but Elizabeth wasn't listening any more. Caleb wouldn't want to marry her if she was pregnant with another man's child, surely? But that might mean that he would go on and marry Dawn just to spite her.

And that was when she realised that she couldn't do this alone, neither should she do it alone, because the baby, if there was one, wasn't just hers, it was William's too. And she knew that if she kept this from him then it would truly break his heart.

"He needs to know." She turned back to her aunt. "You must tell him for me."

Her aunt looked alarmed at this suggestion and she very rarely looked anything but her usual confident self.

"I do not think we should tell Caleb of this, I fear for what he will do if he finds out."

"Not Caleb, William. He needs to know, and then he needs to come for us, Dawn and me. Tell him I need him to come for us soon, aunt, Caleb is a monster and he will not take this blow to his pride."

Another wave of dizziness overtook her as she thought through the implications of it all. Caleb wasn't stupid, and she wouldn't be able to keep this from him for long, and when he found out? It didn't bear thinking about. But she'd protect this baby to her dying breath, she knew that. And William could protect them both.

Him, and Alex. It really was time for them to go and be heroes.

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