27th May, night with camp followers

When Gabe had finally finished his duties, probably a lecture from Vickery, and when Joe was finally installed in the surgeon's wagon and Jenny had disappeared, clean and new-dressed in Maggie's convent frock, Maggie went in search of her husband to bring him to her fire.

Cotton felt drained and wished he could have done more. At least, he reflected, Joe had done his best by Jenny, even if he'd got a kicking for it. And that made him a better man than Cotton, who'd blithely slept on as Maggie had been enduring God only knew what, yards away.

The gloomy mood he was sinking into was not an emotional state he was particularly used to feeling, and that only made him feel worse.

He cheered up a little as he saw Maggie approaching, and wondered how he would ever have managed to cope if she'd decided to return to Lisbon. The few days without her had been among the worst of his life.

"Maggie. Is everythin' all right?"

She nodded and simply wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight.

He put his arms around her, and held her tight. "If... I keep thinkin', now, how I let you down. I'm real glad Joe was there for Jenny. I should've bin there for you, like that."

Though Newbury had suffered - was still suffering - for it.

"No no no no," she muttered, pulling him down to sit by the fire. "Don't talk about that." She pulled his arm around her shoulder and slipped her own around his waist to hold him close. "What did Vickery say? Are you in trouble?"

"He thinks it's his fault that Joe got beat up - he left him with Jenny, after all. And wanted to know if me an' Pye were all right stayin' back here, what with those provosts on the prowl. Only, they ain't any more, 'cause he's - the Captain - is puttin' 'em on a charge for... for beatin' Joe up." He shrugged. "Y'know I'm back here for a punishment anyhow, for lettin' him go runnin' off on his own. Either way, I've gotta pay for that."

She listened earnestly and chewed on her lip. "So are you gonna stay? With me? And the baggage?"

He nodded. "Don't know that I'd be willin' to leave you an' the others. 'Sides, he've got 'em in cust... custard... under guard. So they won't be makin' trouble any time soon." Though their friends might, he thought, but kept the thought to himself.

Her breathing was getting heavy and her heart was beginning to pound, but she twitched a smile at the word custard. Dear Gabe. "Good." Because she was not ready to let him leave. Not yet. Something to be done first. Get it done. Don't stop to think. Don't stop to think about it. Now.

She took a deep breath, as if for a dive, grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down with her. "Come on, quick, before I change my mind."

Cotton gave a startled squawk as Maggie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him down on top of her. What was... Oh. Oh, of course.

He smiled at her. "Love you, sweeting. You'm too good for me," he said, gently reaching for the strings of her stays. "You..." He wanted to tell her that she could tell him to stop at any time, but feared that if he said the words, she would change her mind.

"Hurry up!" she barked.

"Jus' tell me... tell me if you want me to stop," he said, fumbling a little awkwardly with the buttons of his trousers fall. He bit his lip and dropped a quick, gentle kiss on her breast, where the worst of the bite-marks had been, even as he pushed her skirts up.

She cringed and closed her eyes. "Hurry up!" she repeated through gritted teeth.

"All right, all right," he said and ran a finger down her cheek. "Look at me, please." He wanted her to know it was him, not anyone else.

"No!" She realized that that particular answer might be confusing, so she opened her eyes briefly and looked up. "Just keep going, I can do it. Keep going, damn it!"

"Please?" he said, but got on with it anyway, trying not to fumble too much. He kept up a stream of soothing chatter that was probably complete nonsense, stroking her cheek and neck as he did. He couldn't last for very long, and didn't really want to, because of the tension Maggie was under.

He smiled and pulled her on top of him as he rolled over, finished. "Love you, sweeting. Allus will."

She had been biting her lip and now it was bleeding. She did not notice, however. It was over, thank God it was over. Now she began to cry, her fierce urgency gone and replaced with a frightened relief, a lucky escape, a sense of safety after terrible danger. She curled up against him and cried like a child, eventually subsiding in squeaks and hiccups.

"Ssh," he said, smoothing her skirts down and holding her close, stroking her hair. "Ssh. It's all right. It's all right." He wasn't sure what he felt. Sad that she'd had to force herself to go through with it, glad that she trusted him. He loved her so much it hurt. He reached down with one hand to attempt to button his trousers up. "Ssh. Oh, Maggie. I do love you, so much."

She just nodded. She knew that. And she was relieved to have gotten past that one awful hurdle. Awful, but not after all completely unthinkable. She had survived it, and Gabe seemed to be all right.

He drew her head down to rest against his shoulder and smiled. Maybe it wasn't so unlikely that they would have kids, after all. She did seem to be a lot better now. Her heart-wrenching sobs had subsided to hiccups, and he kept stroking her hair soothingly.

"I'll do better next time," she finally said.

"Ssh. It's all right. I... I know you will." He hadn't expected there to be a first time, not quite so soon, but found he was glad they'd finally laid that ghost, however unorthodox it was for the woman to initiate proceedings. They had consummated their marriage now. He twined a strand of her hair around his finger.

"We'll have those kids, an' I'll take you home to live in a cottage in the country with honeysuckle round the door, an' roses in the garden, how 'bout that?" he said, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

She sniffed and nodded. "Aye." The sound of his voice was comforting. And the idea of a far-away peaceful place. "And what else?"

What else, indeed?

"It's a white weatherboarded cottage, outside of the village proper but only a short walk away. An' there's fields an' woods nearby, and the old mill-stream. We'll have a cow on the common, an' ducks an' chickens." It was a pleasant sort of dream-home, with more than a little owed to the memory of the small cottage where he'd grown up.

"Ducks?" she repeated with a hopeful sniff.