0 comments/ 3053 views/ 0 favorites The Fall of York Ch. 58-62 By: nicecthulhu Thank you to searchingforperfection and catbrown for their hard work in editing and all of their suggestions. I appreciate all votes and comments, and I do read all the comments. This story is a sequel to The Doctor's Daughter. Both are set during the War of 1812. Since the death of Major General Brock in the fall of 1812, neither side has scored a decisive victory. There have been minor accomplishments for both the Americans and the British, but the War Hawks in Washington are eager for more promising actions that will validate Jefferson's boasts that the conquest of Canada is "a mere matter of marching". In the spring of 1813 Major General Henry Dearborn is ordered to lead his forces in an attack on Kingston, Ontario. He considers those orders and then attacks the town of York (later known as Toronto), instead. 58 Abigail reached out, grabbed her husband's hand and squeezed. Lawrence gave her an encouraging smile in return, as they listened to a tiresome couple exhort the barbarity of the Yankees. He had been to many similar functions in his life, but this was the first time his wife had been at a social event with such prestigious people. He knew when to simply smile pleasantly and await the end of a vapid conservation and Abigail wisely followed his lead. At last the couple dominating the small group were distracted by someone's arrival and the Orrs slipped away unnoticed. "You've endured this before?" asked Abigail, with a tiresome look on her face. "Many times," he replied. "The trick is to find a group with similar interests to your own, if you can be so lucky, and keep up with the topics." He gently led her in the direction of the ballroom, from which they could hear some pleasant melodies emanating. "Who's that with the Reverend?" asked Abigail, nodding to her left. Lawrence turned and saw Strachan leading a well-dressed, middle-aged woman towards them. "I don't know, but he is trying to meet up with us. Shall we make an escape?" "I think not, husband. After that last conversation a little depth would be welcome." "Ah, Major Orr!" called out the minister. The couple waited and watched as Strachan and the woman skilfully weaved their way past the mingling people. "Ah, Major and Mrs. Orr. I am so very glad you came to the Powell house tonight. May I introduce your hostess, Mrs. Powell?" They exchanged greetings politely. The older woman's eyes seemed to appraise Abigail and her smile indicated her approval. "Thank you for your generous invitation to this fine affair, Mrs. Powell." Abigail squeezed her husband's hand tightly. "I am a little curious as to why we were invited, though." Mrs. Powell turned to the Reverend. "You did not tell them why they were here, John?" He shrugged in response and Mrs. Powell raised a disapproving eyebrow. She turned back to Abigail. "Well, my dear. Why do you think you have been invited?" All three turned attentively to Abigail to listen to her answer. She glanced at Lawrence and saw him nod ever so slightly. "Well, Mrs. Powell. I hope you will forgive my forthrightness, but I believe the good minister here has some plan to elevate my husband's standing in York. Perhaps he intended Lawrence to meet the 'right people' or perhaps he has everything arranged for someone of note to offer my husband some specific position." "Very astute. And what of your husband?" The older woman gave Lawrence a casual glance. "Do you think he is up to whatever John has in mind for him?" Abigail did not hesitate. "Most certainly." Mrs. Powell smiled and put her arm out to Abigail. "You gentlemen may go on to whatever business you have with my husband, now." Lawrence and the minister exchanged looks without speaking. As their hostess led Abigail away, Lawrence heard her say, "Mrs. Orr, please call me Veronique. Let me introduce you to some ladies..." "Why do I feel like a mouse in a den of cats, Reverend?" asked Lawrence. The only reply was a wry smirk and the comment, "That's half my work done right there. Your wife has impressed a woman who is very hard to impress. Come with me, Major." The minister led him briskly through the crowd. A few people tried to engage them in conversation, but Strachan bulled his way through. At last they reached a closed door. The Reverend knocked twice and then entered, ushering Lawrence in. He closed the door behind them. It was a den, but a den that strongly suggested education, nobility and power. There was a large and ornate wooden desk in the centre of the room, and intriguing maps and beautiful paintings upon the walls. The room reminded Lawrence of his father's office. There were seven, well-dressed men in the room, of varying ages. Each looked confident and thoughtful, and intelligent. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Strachan and Lawrence. Chief Justice Powell sat behind the desk, looking almost kingly. "Reverend, you may go," Mr. Powell said quietly. Strachan's face fell, but he left without a word. Lawrence took a deep breath. "Have a seat, Major Orr." The Chief Justice pointed to a comfortable chair beside the corner of the desk. Lawrence obediently sat. A young man approached with a glass and decanter. "Would you like a drink to calm your nerves, sir?" "No, thank you." Powell laughed gruffly. "Someone who faces cannon and musket balls for a living doesn't require a drink to calm his nerves during an interview. He'll need the drink when we finish this meeting, though. Pour it for him, if you please Stephen, and leave it near him on my desk." "If I may be so bold, your honour, why am I here?" asked Lawrence. The atmosphere seemed restrained, but cordial. "You are here, sir, because we sit on the edge of a sword. On one hand are law and order and the stability of the British Empire. On the other hand we have chaos and anarchy as demonstrated by our American neighbours. The people of Upper Canada may not know which is the correct choice, and leaders must be chosen to help the people make the correct choice." Lawrence relaxed in the chair. "I recognize some of the faces in this room, even if I have not been formally introduced to the gentlemen. They are the leaders of York and Upper Canada. What can the likes of you want from a simple, retired Major?" "Simply put, sir, we need you." Powell took a drink from his glass. "Isaac Brock was painted as something of a hero, even before his death, and I do not mean to belittle what deeds he did, sir." Lawrence settled back into the chair. "I think it is now clear to everyone that with his leadership the war would have been over this year. As it stands now, the war hawks in the American government are slavering over the conquest of our colonies, thinking it is just a matter of time before they gain full victory. Britain keeps its attention upon the tyrant in Europe, and rightly so. We, along with the eager aid of the good Reverend John Strachan, will do our best to ensure that the civilians in Upper Canada help in holding back the Americans." He paused and stared at Lawrence. "You have said nothing that I disagree with, except that our American neighbours demonstrate chaos and anarchy." Lawrence looked about the room, wondering how many of these men were actually well-disposed to him. "I have found the Americans disorganized, while at other times they show fortitude, bravery and ingenuity. Like most aggressors, they bicker and argue over the best course of action while the defenders unify out of desperation." Powell nodded. "We lack someone with a military mind. We have solicitors, members of the legislature, officers of the militia and a clergyman, but there is no trained army man among us. We need you." "This talk concerns me, sir." Lawrence sat up straight, wondering if he had stumbled into a nest of traitors to the crown: men who would seek to usurp the King's representative once the Americans were beaten back. His eyes darted about the room. Powell pointed a finger at him. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! Stephen! Philip! John! Did you see that? None of us took that meaning, but this Major assumed we might be a threat to the King and looked about to mark our faces." One of the younger men stepped forward, opened his hands before him and spoke, "Major Orr, we are loyal to the King and his servants. We merely seek to protect our lands from American influence, whether it be through military or more subtle means." Lawrence examined his face and took him to be in earnest. "You were there when Brock died," began Powell, ticking off points on his fingers. "You were sent to warn the militia that the magazine in the fort was to be blown." "And failed," pointed out Lawrence. "You did your best, which was better than most would have done. You were captured by the enemy. You managed to escape when the magazine exploded. You pitied one of the enemy, who was about to drown in a river, and rescued him. You befriended York militiamen and offered them the safety of your home. You killed a traitor and felt guilt over the act. Yet, you challenged a cad to a duel and, I think, you felt no guilt over that man's potential death." Lawrence's jaw muscles clenched. "I do not like it that my actions have become the subject of gossip, sir." "Even when it works to your benefit?" Powell scratched his whiskered chin. "You have the ability to kill a man when the need arises, yet mercy is present in your heart. You are born from nobility, yet you treat the common man with respect. You and your wife took in that girl...what was her name?" he asked the others. "Millicent Grey," offered a voice. "Yes. Major Orr, you are liked and respected by the people of York. The military has retired you and yet I think you are held in respect there, too. So, we have an offer to make you." Powell steepled his fingers. "Let me tell you exactly what we have in mind, sir." 59 Millie rubbed the bridge of her nose. She had never thought that reading could be painful, yet so enticing. The more she read, the more she learned. The more she learned, the more she wanted to read. She closed the book and sat back in the chair. The candles had burned down quite a bit, indicating at least three or four hours had gone by. She placed the book back on the shelf and examined the spines of some of her employer's books. Mrs. Orr had described some of them and Millie was impatient for permission to look into several. The maid had little interest in Mrs. Orr's astronomy book, but the book on anatomy held a forbidden appeal with its images of the human body and the organs within. Mr. Orr's books on military tactics held absolutely no interest for her. Millie reached out her hand and placed her finger on the Bible. That was one book that she was eager to read and the books of fiction had her very curious. She sighed, realizing the time would eventually come when the Orrs would allow her the freedom to look at any book she wished. All she had to do was be patient. A sudden noise outside caught her attention. It was a scratching or snuffling sound, near the window by which she stood. Millie dashed to the window and stared out into blackness. There was a clatter near the rear of the house as some animal knocked over the gardening implements that she had left leaning against the wall. Shaking her head, the maid made her way through the darkened house to the kitchen. She grabbed the broom from its familiar corner and then went to the front door. She had chased pests such as rabbits, skunks and raccoons out of the garden on previous evenings and knew that often all that was required was a show of force and a clear route of escape for the beast. She threw open the front door and peered into the darkness. The stars were out and her eyes adjusted quickly. There looked to be nothing moving amongst the vegetables in the garden. She walked around the side of the house, but saw nothing there, either. "Well, I'd better give you a scare to make sure you don't wander back later," she said to the darkness. Marching to the rear of the house, she found she could hear no animal. She tapped the side of the house with the broom and heard an answering rustle in the bushes beyond the yard. Millie marched with determination to the line of trees and bushes that lay about ten yards behind the house. There were a few minor noises as she approached, but no sure sounds of a frightened animal rushing off into the pitch black of the woods. She struck a tree with the broom, trying to frighten off whatever pest was present. A growl sounded a few yards in front of her. What was that, she wondered as her heartbeat quickened? Then a breeze parted some branches in the canopy and moonlight shone across a furred and arched back that was level with her eyes. Millie froze. The branches shifted back to their normal positions and she lost sight of the animal. Her eyes opened wide as she tried to spot it in the darkness. She swallowed and sniffed the air, hoping that she would smell a horse or deer. She fervently hoped that it was some benign creature more frightened than she was, but she was sure that the animal just ahead of her was too large to be anything but a bear. She tightened her grip on the broom and wondered if a well swung broom would do anything more than anger the beast. She listened as if her life depended upon it. Everything was silent, except for the sound of something moving across the lawn behind her. The young woman whirled about and raised the broom over her head. "What's the matter, Millie?" asked Jacob from the darkness. She could make out his silhouette a short distance away. "There's a bear!" she whispered. "I heard a noise outside and thought it might be a rabbit, but when I followed it into the woods I saw a bear!" Jacob put a comforting hand on her shoulder and then took the broom from her. "Go back into the house. I'll deal with the bear." He gave her a gentle shove and then cautiously shuffled into the woods. Millie blinked twice and then ran for the Orr home. Reaching it quickly, she grabbed a hoe, turned about and ran to where she could see Jacob. "I told you to go into the house, Millie." "You're neither my master nor my husband." She stood a little behind him, with her hoe held out in front of her. "Where is it?" "I don't know. I've heard growling, but it doesn't sound quite like a bear to me." He put an arm across her chest, needlessly trying to keep her behind him. She wrapped an arm about his and hugged it to her tightly "It was right ahead of me, not more than a few yards. The branches parted and the moonlight shone across its fur. It's as big as I am," she said, looking up at Jacob's face. He took a step deeper into the woods and heard a growl again. "It sounds much smaller than a bear and it sounds like it's over there," he said swinging the broom to point out the animal's position. There was a loud thunk and then the sound of some animal scrambling away through the underbrush. Jacob chuckled and then pulled Millie forward. "You saw it right here?" he asked her. "Yes, I'm sure." "That's a tree, Millie." She lowered the hoe and glared at the American. "I did not mistake a tree for a bear," she said crossly. "And what was that beast that ran off?" "Perhaps a raccoon. I can feel a low branch here. I'm guessing it was on the branch when the moon shone on its fur, making it look to be the same size as you." "Are you sure?" "That wasn't a bear that just ran off and a bear would have scared off the other critter long before." "You must think me terribly foolish," she pointed out and she turned and stormed away to the Orr home. As she reached the side of the house Jacob grabbed her arm and held her still. "Millie, you made an honest mistake. If you'd gone deeper into the woods you would have found out it was no bear, not that I want you to go chasing bears." "I suppose I'd best invite you in. It would be impolite for me to say a simple goodbye to my rescuer." "You sound angry, Millie," Jacob pointed out. "I am! You laughed at me!" "I'm sorry. I was laughing at you fending off the raccoon, while you thought you were trailing a bear. You were very brave to come back with the hoe to save me from the raccoon, Millie." She chuckled, despite herself and then swatted at a biting bug. "Come inside, Jacob, just for a few moments. I'll get you something to drink and a bite to eat." He followed her around to the front of the house and then the two went inside. Jacob waited in the parlour while Millie fetched a cup of water and some bread. She returned to the candle-lit room and handed the goods to the American soldier. He carefully set them down on a table and her brow furrowed. "I...I had hoped to talk with you privately at some point, Millie," he began. Her heart shrivelled as she feared he was probably going to say goodbye to her. She held back her tears and concentrated on listening to every word he said. "You do understand why I duelled John, don't you?" She nodded her head. "Because you're an honourable man and he wronged me." "No, he wronged you but I could not believe you ever capable of such behaviour, Millie. And I really don't care what anyone in York thinks about me or about you, well, aside from the Orrs and the Croydens." "Do you think I owe you something..." she asked nervously. "No! No. You owe me nothing, Millie." He reached out for her hands. She let him take hers and hold them between his. "I fought John because I love you, Millie." "Oh!" She pulled her hands away, quickly, and began to fidget. She turned her back to him, then heard his sigh. Biting her lip, she turned back to face him. "You wanted to tell me this before you went back to the United States?" Now it was his turn to fidget. He shuffled his feet and looked at the floor. "Well, Miss Millie Grey, I was wondering exactly how you felt about me. I think you have some feelings for me and if you do, then I am determined not to leave unless I take you home as my wife." "What?" "Do you think you could love me, Millie?" "I...I do love you, Jacob. But...to get married? And leave Upper Canada? To become one of the enemy?" "It's not like that Millie..." "But it is exactly like that!" She stepped away from him. "To go back to America with you and then raise sons to send off and conquer my homeland? How can you expect me to do that? Why can't you settle down here?" "I'm a Yankee, Millie. And I expect my wife to be one, too. And all of my family is in New York State." He rushed forward and grabbed her arms. "Look, it's not like you think it is. Some of the states were opposed to attacking the colonies. A lot of people where I lived thought I was a damn fool for joining up. And a lot of us that did join up were lied to. I wouldn't send any son of mine to attack any country that didn't attack us first." "But...to leave everything here?" "To be honest, Millie, what have you got here? You have no family. The Orrs treat you very well, but are you going to be a maid all your life? You said you love me and I'm giving you a chance to start a new life. It might take a couple of years, but the men in my family will help me clear some land and build a house, and that will be our farm and our house." "I am tempted, Jacob. I do love you. I thought I'd die when I saw John shoot you." "I'm not asking for you to accept a promise, Millie. My term is up at the end of July. I can return home and not be concerned about being brought back to fight. And I'll have my pay from one year's service as a soldier. It's not much, but I can borrow the money from Major Orr to buy you a wedding gown and then pay him back once I'm paid. Will you marry me, Millie?" "I...I...if Major Orr gives his consent, then I'll marry you, Jacob." "Major Orr?" The Fall of York Ch. 58-62 "He's the closet thing I have to a father. It's only right that you should have to ask someone for permission to marry me." A big smile grew upon Jacob's face. "Agreed! I'll talk with Major Orr in the morning and get everything settled. I wish you'd smile, Millie. A bride as pretty as you would be even prettier if she smiled." Millie smiled, shyly. "Maybe you should go now, Jacob. We don't want the Croydens wondering where you've run off to or why. And the Orrs could be home at any time!" Jacob brushed her chin with his thumb and then nodded glumly. He walked to the door, opened it and then Millie flew into his arms. "What?" he asked in surprise, as he was nearly knocked off his feet. She hugged him tightly and then turned her head up to his. "I am very happy, Jacob. I thought you wanted to tell me you were leaving for good and it's taken me a few seconds to adjust." He leaned his face down and she closed her eyes. Their lips touched and it was like everything she'd dreamed it would be. She felt feminine and soft and many odd sensations shot through her body. She felt hot and her blood rushed through her veins. Millie wanted his lips to kiss her cheeks, her eyes, her throat and then every part of her. Then she blushed at the thought. Jacob pulled away while Millie held still, hoping that he would decide to kiss her again. She opened her eyes and he licked his lips. "Perhaps I had best go now. I wouldn't want to cause a scandal." Millie opened her mouth to say her bedroom was just up the stairs, but instead she squeaked, "Yes, you're likely right." She knew she was still blushing and didn't care if he could see it. He was going to be her husband! Jacob walked out the door and across the dark yard. He stopped at the gate and turned back to smile at her. She watched him walk all the way back to the Croyden's house and counted at least ten times that he turned to smile back at her during his walk. Millie closed the door and stood with her back against it for a full minute. She was going to get married! She had so much to talk to Mrs. Orr about! She was going to be a wife! She had a lot of questions for Mrs. Orr that she could only ask a married woman. 60 Lawrence waited for the final trick to be taken, then approached the table and tapped Abigail on her shoulder. She turned her face up, saw him and gave him a smile. "Excuse me, ladies. I'm afraid I must bow out of the next game as my husband and I have some pleasantries to exchange." Abigail stood and took her husband's hand. "Pleasantries?" asked one of the women. Lawrence noted that she was about the same age as his wife, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Mrs. Powell spoke up, "They are but newly married." "Ah," said the first woman as if in fond remembrance, "pleasantries." Lawrence found himself blushing, much to his surprise. "Remember to drop by for lunch on Wednesday, Abigail," said the third woman at the table. "I will and thank you for your gracious invitation." Lawrence escorted his wife from the room, but he could feel three sets of eyes upon him. "I thought you didn't like cards." "I don't. We weren't playing cards; we were talking." He gave her a look of disbelief. "Well, we were playing cards, but those three discuss heady matters while they play cards. The discussion was most interesting and it took quite an effort to keep up with both the change in topics and the game." "I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself." She sighed. "They are the first people I've met, aside from you, that I could really discuss subjects that I find fascinating. Barbara and the other girls near Queenston were pleasant," she winked at him, "but I always had to keep a face on. How was your meeting, dear?" "Oh...very informative." He hoped she couldn't smell the brandy on his breath. He'd drunk down his first glass in celebration with the other men and then the Chief Justice had everyone's glasses refilled and they all drank to the King. "You have precious little to pass on after such an intriguing meeting, husband," Abigail observed as they walked through a crowded room. One of the young ladies was playing some music in the corner, but neither of the Orrs had much interest in listening to it. "It's a pleasant evening. Why don't we go for a walk in the garden?" Abigail asked Lawrence led her to a side room which had a set of double doors leading to a patio and then the garden. They passed outside and closed the doors behind them. The air was pleasantly warm, the garden was dark and the stars twinkled above them. "You look lovely, Abigail." "Thank you, kind sir," she responded with some dramatic flair. "Yet, I cannot help but feel you are trying to put us off on a tangent. I know you have good news for me: what is it?" He put his hand on her arm and led her a little deeper into the darkness. The sounds of conversation muted as they walked further from the Powell's home. "His honour, Chief Justice Drummond Powell, will name me a magistrate in a couple of days." Abigail clapped her hands. "I'd rather see you busy than sit idle in retirement, but you don't have any experience, do you?" "No, and I never perceived any reason to be interested in it. But, Powell explained that they need a man of my experiences to sit in judgement over others. I have very definite ideas of right and wrong, but there is mercy within my heart it seems. I'm to be given one of Powell's star pupils as an aide to make up for my lack of legal knowledge." "That is wonderful news, Lawrence. I'm so proud of you. But there is something more isn't there?" "There was talk that I could eventually move from deciding law to making law at some point in the future." "That would require your winning an election. Have you any interest in politics?" "The Chief Justice described it in very eloquent terms as serving the people. He and the others were confident that I would be a very popular candidate in the correct riding. I've never been interested in politics, but times have changed and I'm keeping my options open. In ten years, who knows?" Abigail frowned. "You are sure that they aren't offering you things in exchange for future favours? I find myself liking Mrs. Powell a great deal, but she could be a schemer. I don't think she would marry a man who wasn't her equal." "Just like you. No, I think this is all based on simply finding me to be of like mind to them. There was no talk of favours. In fact, the Chief Justice implied that my taking the position of magistrate would be a personal favour to him." "From major to magistrate. Is that a step up or a step down?" "As if you really cared about that!" "No, I mean...you seem to be rising so high." She interrupted him before he could respond. "I recall that you're the son of a Lord, but I'm just a doctor's daughter. Sometimes I feel a little out of my depth with you and the circles that you might find yourself in." "That from a woman who has become instant friends with the Chief Justice's wife! Where I go, my dear, you go with me. It is only with the strength and love of my lovely wife that I am able to perform any useful service to my King and fellow man." Abigail put her finger over his lips to silence him. "How is it that a man trained for mortal combat upon the battlefield can say such tender things to his simple wife?" Lawrence nibbled the tip of her finger and they both went silent. She leaned against him and stared up into his face. "You are anything but simple, my love," he said to her quietly. She smirked and ran the fingers of her free hand through his hair. "It's dark, warm and no-one is likely to leave the party. We could...", then he lifted his eyebrows. Abigail stepped back and put a hand to her mouth. "Such a scandalous suggestion, sir! And to a married woman!" His smile widened in response to her playfulness. "Although...I suppose if we were another two or three yards further from the door it would give us sufficient privacy that you might enjoy your 'privileges of rank'." She took a couple of steps away from him and raised an eyebrow. Lawrence lunged forward with his arms extended, but his wife stepped to one side and his fingers missed her. He took a quick step to his left and managed to grab her arm. She leaned back against a tree and a few blossoms fell around her in the starlight. Lawrence inched forward until they stood chest to chest. The only sound was their breathing, coming faster and faster, in anticipation of their lovemaking. He released her hand, leaned forward and kissed her. Her arms wrapped about his neck and pulled him against her. The fragrance from the blossoms blended with her own and Lawrence felt almost overwhelmed by the sensuality of the moment. He put his hands on her back and began pulling her down. "Wait!" she disengaged herself from his arms. "The ground is moist and everyone who sees us afterward will know that you've ploughed my field." "And sown it, with any luck. I don't care what other people think, but I can throw my jacket across your back..." Abigail shook her head. "I'll not have people whispering about the carnal hunger of York's newest magistrate. And as for getting me with child, I think you've done that deed, Lawrence. I'll know for sure in a few more days." "That's wonderful news, Abigail." He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. "Uhm, that is one more reason to celebrate so perhaps we should return home." Abigail reached out and ran her fingers along the front of his trousers. "I think you are as eager as I and I have an idea." She unbuttoned his pants and freed him into the night air. Her hands caressed his length. "If not the muddy sod, then...?" "Lift me into that hollow there," and she nodded to where a low branch joined the trunk. Before she could turn back to him, she felt his hands under her shoulders and she was lifted off the ground. He set her gently in the crook. "Now, as I lower myself down, lift my legs and throw back my skirts," she suggested. She wrapped her arms around some branches as he prematurely lifted her skirts. They gathered around her waist, hiding the lower part of their bodies from her view. She did feel his hands as they caressed each of her bare legs, from ankle to thigh. Then he reached under her bottom and pulled her from the tree a little. Abigail made sure her grip was tight. She could feel him move between her legs and then squeeze between her thighs. Bending her knees allowed her to further separate her legs a little and then she felt his member testing her lower lips. Lawrence struggled to aim his erection into the cleft but, despite the stiffness of his member and the moistness of her sex, he could not manage to couple. He released one of her legs and she obligingly wrapped it partway around his hip. With his hand, he slid his cock along the fleshy folds. The teasing brought forth a stifled whine from Abigail. Her leg started to slip, so Lawrence plunged himself into her and she gasped. He lifted the slipping leg with his free hand and leaned forward until he was as deep into her as he could go. Abigail huffed several times. He felt her muscles contract tightly around him and he withdrew a little. She shook her head and he plunged in again. "Keep going!" she demanded. He swallowed and then withdrew and thrust in a second time. Her vehement nodding told him what he had expected and he began to thrust at a steady pace. There was the repeated 'schlock' every time he went deeply into her. Blossoms fell around them. Abigail's breathing came faster and faster. In the starlight, he could see her breasts heaving with their exertions, with the cleavage appearing and then disappearing in a fast but steady beat. She bent her legs, trying to draw him in deeper, but instead he increased his rhythm. Her nails clawed into the bark of the tree and blossoms fell upon her face and hair. Lawrence was reminded of fair Titania and he chuckled at the question of whether he was more Bottom or Oberon. Abigail heard the chuckle and glared at him for it had interrupted his rhythm. He regained his pace and felt himself losing control and thrusting harder and harder into her moist depths. He could feel a familiar and pleasant pressure building within him as his seed readied. Suddenly all thoughts of prolonging their pleasure fled as his hips bucked and his essence pumped through him and into her. She let out a loud gasp that she muffled by clamping her mouth shut. She squeezed her eyes as he gave a second, almost painful thrust. All her muscles stiffened, then he slipped out of her. She gasped in disappointment, but she was still mid-orgasm and it was all Lawrence could do to hold her legs so she did not fall from the tree. Lawrence bowed his head and tried to force his breathing to slow. He had a mild headache, but felt washed clean from the inside out. Abigail's muscles relaxed and she seemed almost to sag into unconsciousness. He lifted and pushed her, so she was more firmly set into the hollow between the branch and the trunk, and then leaned against the trunk. Lawrence felt her hand seek him out and then she buried her fingers in his hair. A sudden noise startled both of them from their very relaxed euphoria. "I'm sure I heard some noise out here," said a man. "I believe the Orrs came out here a few minutes ago. Maybe it was them?" asked a woman. Lawrence and Abigail peered through the branches, but could not see the speakers. "Oh, well. Perhaps it was an animal. And I cannot blame the Orrs for sneaking off early." "Why is that?" asked the woman. "Didn't you hear? Major Orr is to become a magistrate now that he's retired from the military. He fought beside General Brock, stayed to help defend York against the Yankees after Sheaffe fled, and rescued that poor American lad who was drowning in a river." "Oh, the brave, young lad who duelled?" "The same." "Who told you all this, Eric?" "Mr. and Mrs. Charles." "Oh, let's go and learn more!" There was the sound of the double doors closing, followed by the sound of Abigail and Lawrence releasing their breath. He helped her from the tree and then held her steady, as her knees were not as supportive as she usually found them. They adjusted their clothes quickly, so as to avoid any embarrassing surprises. Lawrence brushed away some of the tree bark that had been caught up in his wife's dress. "Oh, let us go home, Lawrence," Abigail pleaded. He offered his arm and she placed her hand upon it. "First, we say goodbye to our hosts." "Of course. Mrs. Powell will understand and explain our early departure to any who ask." Lawrence wondered exactly how much Mrs. Powell would understand, then upon reconsideration he prudently put the question out of his mind. 61 The next day, Jacob and Mr. Croyden came to visit Major Orr and the men secluded themselves in the parlour while the women stayed in the kitchen. Millie was unusually cheerful and Abigail put the puzzle pieces together quite easily. She kept the maid busy so the time would pass by quickly. The women heard footsteps in the hall between the two rooms and Millie stopped her cleaning and stared expectantly at the door. "Ah, ah," chided Mr Croyden, "you're not going to see her for the next few days, Jacob. Come with me, young man. We have preparations to take care of." The women heard Major Orr wish his visitors a good day and then close the door. Abigail went directly to the kitchen door. "Mrs. Orr!" gasped Millie. "I know it's impolite to suggest that we could hear that their visit was completed, but I also know my husband, Millie. He will sit up there smirking until he believes that we can no longer take the suspense and only then will he come to give us the news. Come with me." The maid followed her mistress through the doorway and down the hall. As they entered the parlour, the two observed Major Orr placing chairs back into their normal locations. Abigail stood with her hands on her hips, impatience radiated from her. Millie clasped her hands together and chewed her lip. "Have a seat, Abigail. You also, Millie." The ladies sat on the couch and he then relaxed in a chair. "So, you can guess why they came to visit." "For Jacob to ask you for permission to marry me, sir," offered Millie. "Yes, I was a little surprised by that. I know I'm your employer, but Upper Canada is hardly an elite social circle where a servant must have permission to marry. Why did you tell him to come to me, Millie?" "I don't have any parents. The two of you have been like parents to me and I hold your opinion in great esteem. If either of you thought I was making a mistake then you would forbid Jacob from marrying me." Millie raised her eyes and folded her hands upon her lap. "Well, I think you two are a good match, Millie. And since you chose to honour us as if you were our daughter then Abigail and myself have some leeway in our generosity to you. The wedding will be the afternoon of July thirty-first." "That's inconveniently soon, Lawrence," interjected his wife. "Jacob is determined to return home as soon as he can. His one year of service expires on that day, so he and his new bride can leave the next day. I'm sure I can arrange some passage to the Niagara Peninsula. Barbara and your father, or perhaps my friend William, can help them cross the border safely." "It still sounds dangerous, Lawrence." "I would not have them try crossing the lake. I can get papers for him that will offer him protection while he's in Upper Canada. Once he's among his own people he said he'd find some way to establish his identity. I don't believe he'd put Millie at undue risk." "He would never," Millie declared. Abigail put her hands on her knees. "Well, we'll be very busy for the next few days then! Lawrence must make arrangements for your safe travel, and you and I," she said eying the young woman, "have many things to arrange for your wedding!" "I thought that perhaps a minister could come here and we could invite the Croydens," suggested Millie. Abigail rolled her eyes and Lawrence chuckled. "Young lady, we'll keep it to a small group, but I intend to make your wedding day as special as I can," the mistress of the house said. 62 The morning of the wedding began brightly, with a purple-pink sky in the east. Then the shout went through the town that the Americans were back. Lawrence left the house for several minutes, while Abigail and Millie fretted. Upon his return, Mrs. Orr glanced once at his grim face and remarked, "So, it's true then." Millie closed her eyes and tried to be strong. She feared that Jacob would be taken away from her mere hours before they were to be wed. She opened her eyes and went to the eastern window in the parlour, watching the goings on at the Croyden house. Jacob was busy putting belongings in a cart for the older couple. He didn't look over at the Orr house. "Well, the wedding is still on!" declared Abigail. Millie and Lawrence looked at her in shock. "They've been here before and they didn't murder us all, so I doubt they're here to do that now. Maybe they'll leave some soldiers to hold York this time, but they have no reason to stop a wedding. Especially when one of their own is marrying a local girl," she explained. Lawrence rubbed his chin. "I'll take Jacob and meet with their commanding officer. An explanation before the fact may smooth things over and ensure there's no trouble. He can issue orders that the wedding is not to be disturbed. In the meantime, let us have breakfast." "How can you eat?" asked Millie. "He's a soldier," explained Abigail. "While men can eat at almost any time of night or day, the soldier is a special breed that is able to eat and sleep at absolutely any time and under any conditions, sometimes simultaneously." Lawrence was grinning at his wife and Mrs. Orr winked at Millie. The Fall of York Ch. 58-62 While the ladies busied themselves with last minute preparations on Millie's wedding dress, Lawrence walked over to the Croyden's house. After a brief conversation, Jacob left with him dressed in his uniform. They walked down to the lakeshore and waited for the Americans to reach land. The boats seemed to be rowed very slowly. With one small cannon I could put a quick stop to this second incursion into York, thought Lawrence. "It's another invasion, sir," stated Jacob, idly kicking some stones into the water. Lawrence glanced at him and then realized the young man was very ill at ease. "You have a lot of mixed feelings right now, don't you?" "That's a heavy ship, there. See how low it floats in the water?" Lawrence peered out at the boats. "The larger ones all sit heavy. I suspect they're full of troops again. Ah, here comes a boat." "Have you been on many ships, sir?" Lawrence kicked a rock into the water. "Yes. I never liked the navy much. Crowded ships that stink of urine and excrement. The food goes bad very quickly and navy officers seem to take it as matter of fact that once you fall overboard you're likely dead. I suppose it's because so few sailors can swim." "So that's why you joined the army?" "I joined the army...I joined..." he hesitated and thought over his answer. He'd joined the army because he had nothing else to do but become a wastrel or a fop. The excitement and danger filled the time, when he had craved something to fill his time. Now, having Abigail in his life, he had other priorities and other needs. Yet, if he hadn't joined the army and things hadn't gone as they did, then he would never have met Abigail. "I suppose I joined because God had put a Lawrence Orr sized hole right there for me to fill. And now...and now that hole stands beside Abigail." "I think I understand, sir. At the time it seemed like it was your place, your fate. Now that I'm to be married to Millie everything just seems right, even if parts of it are so wrong. The world would seem so alien and devilish if I was apart from her." Jacob picked up a flattened stone and skipped it across the calm lake waters. They stood silent for a few more minutes and then hailed the boat as it drew near. Reverend Strachan rushed up to join them and they could hear an officer mutter from across the water, "Oh God, not him again." There was a brief exchange once the boat reached shore and a Captain disembarked with a squad of soldiers. The officer ordered Strachan, Lawrence and Jacob to wait where they were and then waved a blue flag at the ships. Lawrence spied a number of other boats filling with soldiers and officers. "Whatever you have to discuss with their commanding officer, Mr. Orr, can wait until after I've talked with him," said Strachan as the boats approached. Lawrence nodded in reply. At last, the boats reached shore and soldiers and officers disembarked. Strachan strode purposefully toward a General and began haranguing the grey-haired man. "I'll go to your church shortly, parson. Now go away!" Lawrence heard the General say in an angry voice. Ignoring Strachan's protestations, the General strode toward Lawrence and Jacob. "I was informed that you wished to speak to me regarding one of my soldiers." He eyed Jacob with contempt. "Sir, I am Major Lawrence Orr, retired, now a magistrate in York. This soldier was captured by me upon your last visit, but was grievously wounded. My wife and I returned him to health and here he stands before you, fit. Now, he has fallen in love with a young lady in town and they are to be married this afternoon and you are welcome to attend. We wish you to ensure there will be no disruption due to the unfortunate timing of your second invasion of York." "Glad to meet you, Major. I have no problem with one of my soldiers taking one of your local girls as a wife and I shall issue orders that the wedding party is not to be disturbed. However, at the end of the service he is to report for duty and we will not be bringing his bride with us when, or if, we leave." Jacob cleared his throat. "General, sir? My year of service ends today, so I don't need to report after that. And I'd like my pay before you leave York. If you're not willing to escort my bride and I back to the United States, then I'll have to find another means of getting home." Lawrence was shocked by the familiarity and disrespect in Jacob's words and manner, but the General seemed all too used to it. "Soldier, I am extending your year of service to two years and you will be paid out at the end of that two years." "No I won't, General, and I want my pay now!" "I can have you put before a firing squad, son. You should have learned by now to do whatever a General orders you to do." Lawrence interrupted Jacob's reply. "General, perhaps I should inform you that Jacob has given me his parole. So he is of no use to you as a soldier." And don't ask me exactly what the promise I asked of him was, Lawrence prayed. The General's eyes narrowed. "Sir, if you have his parole then you are still effectively in the war. I will simply have you arrested, unless you choose to release this soldier from his promise?" Lawrence instantly regretted playing that bluff, but had no choice now. "I will not..." "Wait!" spoke up Jacob. "I'll fulfill my obligations. General, as a soldier I have no choice but to report to you as you ordered. Please don't take this gentleman prisoner." "Jacob..." Lawrence began. "Agreed!" declared the General. "I'll see you in the evening then. That should allow you some time with your new bride, following the service. Now, for other matters. Major, was anything stolen from your home upon our last visit?" "Why no, sir." "Then I have nothing to return to you. You are dismissed." The General strode away, followed by a gaggle of officers and soldiers. Lawrence waited for the Americans to be out of ear shot and then, "That was very foolish, Jacob." "I wasn't about to have you taken from your wife and home, sir. Besides, I only signed up for one year and that ends today. By night time, I'm no longer a soldier and I don't have to follow that windbag's orders." He glanced at Lawrence and chuckled. "I don't think he was planning to pay me whether my service ended now or in another year. We've lost a lot of militia and regular soldiers right before battles because the officers wouldn't pay us." "Son, with the way your mind works you should have been in the legislature, not farming." Jacob laughed heartily in response, causing some of the American soldiers nearby to cast suspicious glances his way. The entire story is completed and a portion will be posted every couple of days.