Notes: This was an experiment and I set it in the Civil War. I used more true to life personalities again as opposed to the TV characters. Peter is intelligent as opposed to an airhead, so if you see a discrepancy there, it's because I like his real personality as I see it better than show "Peter". The last names were changed to be more suited to the times, and the story was originally only for my friends and I, so I allowed it to have a heavy Gone with the Wind influence.

Victoria Bartlett sat gazing at the lawn from the window seat in her bedroom of the large house on her father's cotton plantation. Her beau was coming to see her soon and she had to let Mammy finish helping her get dressed as she was only clothed in her corset and pantalettes. The sight of the weeping willows on the lush grounds in the bright Georgia sunshine was drawing her in, however. She daydreamed of times past, and imagined herself a princess in the Middle Ages, all decked out in royal finery and living in a huge castle with Peter as her prince.

She was brought back to reality by Mammy's voice,"Miss Victoria. It's time. Mr. Peter gwanna be here soon and yous ain't even got yo dress on."

Victoria got up and answered the portly black woman, "I know, Mammy. It's just that the day is so beautiful and I'm so sad."

"Why you sad, honey?" Mammy hustled her into the huge hoop skirt undergarment as she spoke.

Victoria tilted her head as Mammy fastened the hoop around her, "Oh, it's just that there's been all this war talk lately and I know Peter is going to enlist. I love him so much and I wanted to marry him someday. I want to move to Savannah and have the biggest house in town. He doesn't like the idea of a war, you know. He abhors fighting."

Mammy took a pale yellow dress from the wardrobe and pulled it over Victorias head, "It's alright, honey. He be back real fast if he hafta go."

Mammy buttoned the dress and tied the bow in back as Victoria smoothed the skirt and settled herself into it. She went to the mirror and turned around, her skirts swishing as she did so. Her black hair was a good contrast to the yellow dress, she decided. Peter loved to see her in yellow and she smiled at her reflection, blushing at the attention he was certain to give her when he noticed how pretty she was. She loved him so very much and he was the best catch in the county. He only had eyes for her and the thought of that made her blush once more.

"Oh you just don't understand, Mammy." Victoria said wistfully, going back to the window seat. Mammy came up from behind and fixed a few of Victorias pipe curls then placed a solitary yellow rosebud in the top of the bun on her head.

"You mighty beautiful, precious. Don't you worry yo pretty little head bout it. Mr. Peter gwanna take good care of you."

Victoria nodded as she saw Peter riding towards the front door on his horse. The horse was white with brown, almost golden patches that practically matched Peters own golden hair. She sighed at the beautiful sight of him and got up like a shot, running down the stairs and out the front door to greet him.

When she ran out to meet Peter, he responded immediately, "Hello, little Angel. How are you?" He asked, climbing off of his horse.

She smiled broadly as he picked her up in a bear hug and swung her around. He finally put her down and held her at arm's length. She responded, "I'm much better now that you're here."

Peter held her closely again and said, "I love you. You're mighty pretty today."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "Aren't I pretty every day?"

He chuckled, "Of course you are, honey. Don't we have this same conversation every time I see you? You know you're the most beautiful, the only beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"I love you too, Angel. I was just asking." She giggled, working herself closer to him again.

Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the younger slave boys came and took Peters horse away, leaving the couple alone. Before the boy left, Peter had thanked him. He didn't believe in slavery or this war they were about to fight, but he knew if Georgia went to war, he would have to go as well.

Victoria giggled, "I'll never know why you thank them. That's what they're here for, you know."

Peter took her hand and walked her to the front porch where they sat on the steps. "Victoria, you know I don't believe in slavery. If we get out of this war intact and I inherit my father's plantation as planned, I'll just set the slaves free anyway. The ones that want to stay will be compensated for their efforts. It's just how I feel."

"You're silly." She leaned in to kiss him and almost fainted when his mouth touched hers.

His lips were so sweet, soft and warm on her own. They felt so right and she knew he was the one she needed and wanted to settle down with. She had received several other offers of marriage but turned all of them down. She knew Peter loved her and that he would ask when he thought the time was right. He was a great deal more cautious than she and would propose, but in his own time. The truth was that his eyes never saw another girl. He was completely devoted to his Angel. It was in what he said and did, but it was also a feeling. A deep one that she could not escape, even if she wanted to.

Their disagreement was forgotten as he smiled back at her, desperately wanting to carry her upstairs to her bedroom. The desire he felt consumed him daily, nightly, every second of the day. He knew almost every other young man in the county was interested in her and hoped that his would be the proposal of marriage she would agree to. He sighed heavily, knowing that this was the time.

"Victoria." He began, moving further down the steps, getting on his knees and taking her hands, "I have asked your father for your hand. I've gotten my grandmother's ring and I can only hope that you will accept my offer and make me the happiest man in the world."

She smiled down at him. This was the moment she had been waiting for, "Oh yes!" She exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck. "I love you so much. What took you so long?"

He beamed back at her for a moment then looked down at the stairs,"Angel, we're going to war soon. I would hate to go away not ever knowing if I'm coming back and not having had the courage to ask you to marry me before I left."

She frowned, "Let's not talk about any old war. I love you and we're getting married. That's what's important. Can we live in Savannah and have a very big house? Your father's going to be alive for quite some time yet and I don't want to live on his plantation, because I want a house all to ourselves. We'll be rich and we can afford it."

He was going to point out that the war was coming whether she liked it or not and that he may not even come back alive. If he did, he didn't know what condition his father's plantation would be in, if they would have any money, land or anything of charm left after the war. The look on her face stopped him. She was so beautiful in the semi-shadow of the pillar she sat next to and she was going to be his.

"We can do whatever you want. I'm going to do my best to make all of your dreams come true." He finally responded.

They kissed again, this time more passionately. She dared to gently pry his lips open with a soft gesture of her tongue. His met hers willingly and they held each other close. She backed away, breathless from Peters attentions,"Mrs. Ian Peter MacNamara. I love it."

"I'm glad and I love you, my really real Angel. Do you think we should go speak to your parents and start making plans?" He asked, standing and holding out a hand to pull her up.

Victoria allowed herself to be pulled to her feet, but pouted, "Oh, why do we have to go and do that now? I want another kiss."

"You'll get plenty of kissing later, but here's one for good measure." Peter answered pleasantly.

He took her in his arms, dipped her back slightly and treated her to the deepest, most wonderful kiss she had ever experienced. They were both wanting more when Victorias mother, Mrs. Bartlett, came outside and cleared her throat. The couple blushed and broke apart, preparing to tell Victorias mother that they were ready to go ahead with their plans for marriage.

The wedding went beautifully. Peter and Victoria were the most popular of the younger generation throughout the county and the ceremony drew plenty of guests, gifts and money for the couple that would soon be starting out on their own. It was decided that they would live with Peters father, Mr. Stuart MacNamara, at his plantation while their house in Savannah was being built. Peters mother had died in childbirth many years ago, along with the baby shed been carrying and Mr. MacNamara was looking forward to having a womans presence in the house again. It was painfully evident to Peter that his call to war was inevitable, but if Victoria wanted the house in Savannah, she would have it.

Peter and Victoria were only married a few short weeks when the call to war did come. They asked for volunteers to sign up and while Peter did not believe in fighting and hoped that Georgia and the other southern states would be allowed peaceful secession, it was not to be. He knew that he would have to fight for the cause. More than just his way of life, he was bound to do so by honor. He could have easily stayed home at Willow Pond with his beloved, but principle dictated that he must go to war to protect that all he, his wife, his father and everyone he knew held near and dear.

The afternoon he came home and told Victoria that hed signed up to go to war was the worst of her short life so far. She cried a river of tears in his arms and begged him not to go. He told her they would have one more week together before he went away, but it did noting to soothe her intense sorrow. Holding back his sobs and fears so that he could be strong for her proved to be very difficult. Peter did not wish to lie to Victoria, because he knew the South was set up to fail from the start, but he told her that the war could last no more than a few months at the most and that he would be back to her right away.

Peters father went off to the war as well, and in a short time, Victoria was left alone at Willow Pond with Mammy, whom shed brought, and the rest of the slaves Peter and his father had left behind. Victorias mother had done her best to try to convince her to come home and stay at Rosedown, but she was now mistress of Willow Pond and would not leave the house while there was a breath left in her body.

She waited alone through long months of war, receiving the occasional letter from Peter. The letters were always forced cheerfulness but she felt that he was suffering ardently. His correspondence was consistently filled with loving words and the need to come back to her was always the most prominent theme contained in them. His main duty was to protect her from the harsh realities of the world and he took great care to keep content regarding the war and the conditions he knew would be appalling to her to the very barest minimum.

A few months before the third anniversary of her husbands departure, Victoria sat in the dining room, thinking about Peter with her head in her hands. She thought it ironic that he had been the least willing participant in this war and had risen through the ranks so highly by showing a competency for leadership and strategy in battle. What was more important, he did it with a calm, and gentle but firm manner. She smiled bitterly to herself as she sat alone at the huge table that now just seemed another gloomy object in their home. The days of bright cheeriness had left, and she wondered if it was for good.

Not knowing the complete details of the conditions he was living in, she was convinced that he would be shocked at the state of their home life upon his return from war. Food and fine material were harder and harder to come by and almost every luxury they were used to having had become practically nonexistent. In addition to that, her father-in-law had been killed in battle a few short months ago, making this house seem even more empty, but haunted at the same time.

She anxiously awaited news of her husband and father every day and most of her time was spent praying for their safe return and an end to this ridiculous war that had torn their lives apart. Most of the slaves had even been called away to dig trenches for the southern troops, leaving her in this big, empty plantation house. All that accompanied her were the shadow of a dead father-in-law, a few house slaves, and the thought that news of her husbands or fathers death might come at any moment.

Suddenly, she heard strange footsteps down the hall, sounding like they were coming towards the propped open door behind her. Her eyes widened in shock as she turned her head around to see Peter.

His uniform was in sad condition, and he looked so much older and very tired. He walked with a slight limp, but upon seeing her beautiful young face, his brightened and he quickened his steps and held his arms open for her to hold him closely. He knew hed have to tell her that he was able to get away for a few days only because the fighting was rapidly getting closer and closer to their home. Deep in his heart, he hoped and prayed that their men would stop the Yankees before they got any closer.

Victoria immediately got up from her chair, knocking it down in haste, and ran the rest of the length of the massive hallway to greet him. Her tears fell as she hugged him tightly and felt herself being picked up and wrapped in one of his bear hugs. He whirled her around and whispered in her hair, "My little Angel. I love you so very much."

"Oh, I love you." She responded. He set her down, but kept his arms around her and she covered his face with small kisses. She continued, "I am not letting you get away from me again."

He looked into her eyes and she could see the pain within them before he deliberately hid it and decided not to tell her of his cold realities, "I missed you every second. I thought Id never hold you in my arms again." He paused then whispered, "Youre mighty pretty today."

The words that he had used in what seemed like a lifetime ago brought more tears and she rested her head against his chest while sobbing uncontrollably. Peter bit his bottom lip, holding back the tears he wanted to cry and stroked her thinning body with gentle motions of his hand in an attempt to soothe her. He pushed the thought far away that kept telling him this would be the last time he would see her. Hed regretted every day he had been gone and had, many many times admonished himself for being foolish enough to volunteer for this lost cause. All his involvement in this war would do was lose him the one thing that had meant the most to him, his sweet young wife.

Victoria only pulled away slightly and said, "Angel, you look so tired, warn and hungry. Why dont you come into the dining room and Ill have Sally get you something to eat. Its nothing like it used to be, but..." She trailed off, took his hand and led him into the dining room.

He noticed the changes that had settled over their home right away, but compared to the battlefields, this was heaven. The presence of his wife just added to the feeling, and Peter knew that if he died right now, he would do so a happy man.

"Angel?" Victoria finally asked. "How is it that youve come here? Have you really been let go?" She hugged him from behind and buried her face in his hair as he sat at the table. It was hard to believe he had been released, but she really didnt know the seriousness of the situation they were in, even though shed felt plenty of the effects. Shed always lived in a dream world and only saw what she wanted to see. The war had changed her slightly, but not enough.

Peter thought about his response. The fact was that hed made a deal with the greedy general in charge, promising him a huge chunk of their land in trade to be allowed just one day with Victoria. When the fighting had brought him so close to their home, he couldnt resist doing anything that would allow him to see her face for but a brief moment. What he received for sacrificing their land was the use of his horse and a reminder that if he did not return on the appointed day, he would be hunted down and taken to court martial.

Finally, he answered, "Angel, thats not important right now. Whats important is that Ive come to see you. Now, I can only stay one day, but.."

"Peter. Oh please dont leave again. I miss you so greatly and I want you here. Dont tell me youre leaving tomorrow or any other day. I love you so much." Victoria softly cried into his hair.

He sighed, turned his chair around slightly then pulled her into his lap, wrapping her in his arms. She was still a child, unspoiled by the fighting around them and he wanted to keep her that way. Hed done enough changing for the both of them. "My darling darling Angel. That is the way it has to be for now. I will tell you something though. The war cant go on much longer. The fighting is too close to our homes and the Yankees are in Atlanta. We will lose this war, but it will be over very shortly, then I can come back to you forever. If I didnt know your stubbornness, I would insist that you go and stay with your mother at Rosedown. Do not worry though, we wont let them get go you."

Victoria was not worried about that. She could take 50 Yankees or more if she was mad enough, and she surely would be if they dared invade her home. What did scare her was that Peter was leaving again and she tried to push out the fears about him getting killed like his father. He had made it this far, though. She just didnt want to be left alone without his comforting presence by her side. "I understand." She inclined her head and silently sat in his arms while they waited for the simple meal to come.

Before eating, Victoria apologized to him for the condition of the house and the lack of fancy food that they used to take for granted. Peter told her, very diplomatically, that the food at Willow Pond was infinitely better than what he had become used to eating while away from her. The meal was spent in relative silence but was finished quickly so that Victoria could get Peter a warm bath and they could retire to their bedroom. They spent long hours holding each other closely and getting reacquainted, staying up the entire night. Victoria had not thought about Peters possible tiredness on his ride back to the battlefield until the next morning when he prepared to leave. She felt so sorry about having been that selfish, it was what started her crying first thing. He soothed her tears by telling her that he couldnt have slept had he wanted to and he could think of no better way to spend his time.

Peter prepared to go after breakfast and held her tightly as they stood at the front door, "I love you, my little Angel. Say a prayer for me and I promise to return to you very soon."

Her tears started again and she only managed to whisper, "I love you and I will miss you every second until you come back to me."

They shared one more lingering, tender kiss. Finally and reluctantly, he had to pull away. His eyes did not leave those of his wife until he was on his horse and heading away from the house. Victoria could hardly make it back upstairs to her bed where she stayed for the next few days, even locking herself away from Mammy who begged, pleaded and demanded to be let in.

On the fourth day, Victoria got up and decided that she needed to eat. Reason dictated that it would do no good to die of starvation and be dust and bones by the time her husband did return to her again. She solemnly dressed in her customary black mourning in remembrance of Peters father, arranged her hair and headed for the stairs.

What she saw and heard at the bottom horrified her to no end. Mammy and Chester, the elderly head of the servants in the house, were arguing with what were obviously several Yankee soldiers. Right in her foyer. The scream that wanted to burst from the bottom of her soul just would not come out and she slowly continued down the stairs as the scuffle got louder. Her footsteps echoed and several of them broke through in a brief moment of silence, causing the assembled party to look up at her.

Everyone stilled and continued their silence as Victorias eyes locked with those of the officer apparently in charge. He was very lean, much taller than the rest of his men and under his cap, a hint of thick, almost black hair could be seen. His dark, almond shaped eyes had seemed cold and calculating for a split second then warmed quickly as he continued to hold her gaze. He stood very straight, unlike most people with his height, and had an air about him that indicated he was very powerful.

Victoria kept glaring into his eyes as she spoke to her servant, "Chester, what is going on here?"

Mammy responded in a panic, "Miss Victoria. I knowed yous tired and these Yankees, they come in here and they say they gwanna use this house as they headquarters. I done tole them no how, no way, but"

"Never mind, Mammy." Victoria cut her off as the imperious officer in charge looked her up and down, finally breaking their intense locking of eyes, but only for a moment.

"Miss Victoria." He said, thoughtfully, pushing past everyone to stand directly in front of her. He looked down upon her and watched her with great intensity, "Do you have a last name, Miss Victoria?"

His tone sounded condescending and it made her immediately angry. Shed already noticed that he was much taller than his men, but next to her, he was downright gigantic. She got closer to him and lifted her head to compensate for their proximity to each other so that she could continue to stare into his eyes, "Get out of my house, you horrid Yankee." She hissed, pointing to the door.

He chuckled at her, "Youre a regular little spitfire, arent you, Miss Victoria? I like that in a woman. Im afraid, though, that I cant leave just yet. Your mammy was right. We are taking your home for our headquarters. We can do this one of two ways, and I hope youll choose the right one."

Victoria raised her arms and beat at his chest as he got even closer and began to take her into his embrace, "Let me go!" She screamed and attempted to shake him off as he held her tightly.

"That was not the right one, but I like you and Im going to give you another chance." He did not let her go as he calmly gave several orders to his men, instructing them to leave the house alone for now, but to get the rest of the troops that were outside to check the grounds and report to him later. He even dismissed Mammy and Chester then chuckled at the way Victoria screamed, bit and fought against him.

"Tired yet?" He asked after long moments when it was evident that she finally was.

She did not answer him, but bored into his eyes when he turned her face up towards his own, placing one finger under her chin.

He interpreted her stillness as an affirmative answer, let her out of his arms and took her tiny hand in his. It was a surprisingly tender gesture, but the feeling Victoria got that ran from his body was that there was a great deal of power behind it. There was no way she was getting away from him without a gun, and that was upstairs in her bedroom. She did not struggle further as he led her through the house, looking around and finally finding the drawing room.

He took her inside, closed the double doors and sat in a chair by the empty fireplace, still keeping his large hand clasped around hers. Silently, he watched her for a moment longer then reached over to drag another chair closer to his. He positioned it so that it was facing him, "Please sit down, my dear Miss Victoria. I want to get to know you a little better."

She glared at him, but complied with his wishes. She was tired and weak from lack of food, but decided not to give up planning how to kill this filthy Yankee for the atrocity that he was committing by invading her precious Willow Pond and daring to touch her.

"My dear child." He continued in tones that sounded so condescending to her ears. His accent was not as bad as it could have been, not as awful as the men shed heard accepting his orders. "Let me tell you a little bit about myself and you can tell me a little bit about yourself. I am General Michael Sheridan. You may call me Michael. Those are my men outside and we need the temporary use of your plantation. We will try to be as gentle as possible with you and your home as long as you return us the same courtesy. Now, its your turn. Your last name, please."

"MacNamara." Victoria spat out.

"See, that wasnt so hard now was it? You dont sound or look Scottish to me, though. Dont most of them have red hair? Yours is as dark as the blackest night and so very beautiful, too." He said, a slight smile on his face. He was playing with her about being Scottish as hed noticed the large wedding ring on her finger already.

"My husbands parents were Scottish." She responded, her eyes still narrowed, "This was their home and now it belongs to us."

"Ah, your husband. And what is his name?" Michael asked, still smiling back at her with his evil grin.

"Captain Peter MacNamara, and if he comes home and finds you here, he will surely have your head. Do not doubt it for one moment." Victoria felt his hand squeeze hers.

Michael chuckled once more, "I dont think we have to worry about that. Our men will have every last Rebel eliminated in no time. The ones not done away with will simply be thrown in prison. Get used to it, Miss Victoria. I hate to be the bearer of bad news to a lady as pretty and fragile as yourself, but youre well on your way to being a widow very soon."

She struggled to hold back the shock and sorrow that his words made her feel. Theyd been like a knife in her heart, but there was no way possible she could let him see that. She just responded icily, "We shall see about that."

"We certainly shall." He continued his appraisal of her and it was evident that he liked what he saw.

Through her narrowed eyes, she saw a kindness for her in his own and filed it away for future reference. Something told her that not many people received charity from this man. It was evident that he was capable of being extremely dangerous and maybe if she exploited the tender feelings she seemed to be evoking, she could catch him off guard and eliminate him soon. She decided to show an interest in him, "You dont sound too very much like a Yankee. Where are you from?"

"Kentucky." He responded, "Just like Abe Lincoln. Lets say I was persuaded to fight for the side I knew would win. No point fighting for lost causes, now is there? But enough about me. Id like you to show me around your lovely home and get something to eat if you dont mind. I must say you look like you could use a little something yourself."

"I was on my way to the kitchen when you so rudely barged into my home, General Sheridan. I.. I havent eaten for several days." Victoria inclined her head.

"Call me Michael, please. Dont tell me that things are all that bad around here. Surely, you must have some food. A beautiful little thing like yourself cant be allowed to waste away to nothing. Ill send my men out looking if I must." His tone had carried a kidding note at first, but then became softer and Victoria detected genuine concern in there.

"No, theres food. Not as much as there used to be, but we still have some." Victoria responded and let him lift her face to look into his eyes once more. "Ive not been feeling well the last few days is all." There was no way she was going to tell him why.

He stood and pulled her from her chair, holding her to his body and petting her hair. She felt like a small child as he stroked her and she was too surprised and tired to fight. He spoke softly, "Well now, Ill just have to make sure that you get to feeling better again, wont I? We cant have our charming hostess feeling so poorly. Lets go see what your house workers can get us to eat, then Ill have to spend some time trying to get you back to good health."

Having nothing to say in response, Victoria gently pried herself from his embrace, turned and began to leave the room. Before she could get to the doors, he reached around her and opened them then stood to the side and held his arm out, indicating that she should go first.

"I didnt know men in the Yankee army were so polite, General Sheridan." Victoria said, avoiding his gaze and heading towards the kitchen.

"Its Michael, and youll find true gentlemen everywhere you go, my dear Miss Victoria. You are charming enough to inspire kind behavior from even the most base of men."

She held her response until they entered the kitchen. Sally, the girl there, stared over at Victoria who looked up at Michael and said, "Well, General Sheridan. Ill say one thing for you. You yourself are not lacking one bit in charm."

Her statement actually took him aback for a moment, but he recovered nicely and took both of her hands, "Miss Victoria, you will find that there is not very much I do lack. There is one thing only."

"Whats that?" Victoria asked, raising an eyebrow and putting a cynical tone in her voice.

"All in good time, my dear." He responded, then addressed Sally, "I need you to make your best meal for your mistress and myself. After that, Ive got quite a few men out there who need to be fed. Do whatever you have to do to see that it gets taken care of. But, make the two of us your first priority, and be quick about it, girl." Michael turned his attention away from her in a gesture of dismissal.

Sally caught Victorias gaze frantically. Her large brown eyes then darted to the hands of the pair standing before her. Sally was not the smartest of girls, but it was evident to her that, in addition to the fact that they appeared to have Yankees in their home, there was something else very wrong. This Yankee in particular seemed to have a severe appreciation for her mistress. Too deep for Sallys comfort. Thoughts of Mr. Peter flooded her mind and how he would surely be sick to death if he ever saw something like this. Everyone knew how deeply he treasured his bride and Sally wondered why Miss Victoria did not seem to be fighting off this Yankees advances, but said nothing as she whimpered as a way to ask her mistress if she should follow the Yankees orders.

Michael turned to Sally again and growled, "I said get to it and I meant it. NOW!"

Sally jumped and frantically began searching for something to feed this man and Miss Victoria right away, her body trembling in fear. She didnt know how she was going to feed all the men he had told her about, but shed ask Mammy or Chester when she got to that point. Right now, her main concern was taking care of this particular Yankee so that he didnt beat her within an inch of her life.

Michael seemed satisfied that Sally was finally getting things done to his wishes and he led Victoria into the dining room. The meal came and they ate in relative silence, only interrupted once by one of Michaels men who was quickly dismissed with a glare and a wave of Michaels hand. It was evident to Victoria that he had a very quick and violent temper which she did not wish to bring out, especially if she was going to get close to him so she could eliminate him later. His eyes said that he would not turn his anger toward her unless she did something drastic and now was not the time for her to do so, and she would just wait it out.

When they were done, Michael led her around the rest of the house, deciding to take Mr. MacNamaras library as his office and Peters former bedroom for his own. He told her that he would keep his men from her upper floor as long as she kept up her end of a bargain he offered her. He was very direct about the fact that he was enthralled by her presence, and said that he wanted her companionship for the time that he would be here. If she agreed to this, all would be well, he promised.

Victoria was somewhat innocent in the ways of the world, but very intelligent and she quickly came to the realization that if she did not agree, not only would the inner sanctum of their bedrooms be invaded, but some of Michaels men might get inappropriate ideas towards her, thereby compromising her personal safety and vows to her husband. At least Michael had not insisted that they share a bedroom, and she did not feel threatened by him in that manner. While he had made it plain that he held an attraction, he was somewhat of a gentleman, Yankee officer or not, and she did not believe that he would force himself on her any more than he already had.

The many days that followed were somewhat of a nightmare to her with Yankees filling her home, making loud noise with their horrid accents, touching her possessions and staring at her every chance they got. Michael had caught a few of them looking in her direction and put a stop to it, but when he was not immediately around, there was nothing he could do. She found it best to stay locked in her bedroom most of the time and began to feel that the only bright spots came when Michael visited her or took her downstairs to meals. She had to admit that while she desperately wanted these men out of her home, Michael comforted her in a way that shed not expected. To his chagrin, she still put a distance between them by referring to him as General Sheridan and she almost giggled thinking about the expression on his face every time she did so.

With Peter gone to war, she not only missed his love, but also intelligent conversation and companionship that she was not able to get from any of her house workers. The infrequent visits of her now aging mother had done little to relieve this frustration, and Victoria shook her head, suddenly realizing that her mother didnt even know Willow Pond had been invaded by Yankees. She wondered if Rosedown had been as well and for the first time since Michael and his men had come here, she was seized with panic at the idea that her mothers life might be in danger.

Immediately, she rose from her window seat and left her room, walking carefully down the massive staircase. Several of the Yankees made unsavory comments to her as she tried to get to the library and speak with Michael. Their noise got louder the further she walked through the house and suddenly, the library doors were opened with great force. They slammed against the walls on either side and Michael stood between them, fixing Victorias eyes with his own. The blatant anger left his features for just a moment as he gazed at her then the anger returned as he flashed his eyes at his men. He did not need to say a word, and the house became instantly silent. Victoria swore that one could have heard a pin drop, the quiet was so unwavering

"Please come in, Miss Victoria." Michael held his hand out to her.

She slowly approached him, took his hand carefully and allowed herself to be pulled into the library that he was now using for an office. He shut the doors behind her and bid her to sit down in a chair across from the desk. When she sat, he leaned back against the desk and looked down at her, a softness in his eyes that even he didnt quite understand.

Before asking what was on her mind, he just wanted to watch her for a moment. Victoria MacNamara was the most exquisite creature he had ever seen. He had certainly not come to war or to this house expecting to fall in love, but fall in love he had, and immediately. It was more than her angelic face, long raven hair, gem-like eyes, and tempting red lips. Her spirit was such that it shone through in her every expression and action. The way she had been unafraid when hed come and taken over her home, and the way it felt when they touched. It was a feeling that he could not even begin to describe, but when he thought about it, it made him shiver. Nobody had ever affected him that deeply before.

Never in his life had Michael hesitated in claiming what he wanted, but he was determined to take things slowly with her. Most important was earning her love and respect in return as he had no wish to leave this house without her and had resolved to make her his bride. The matter of her husbands existence would surely be cleared up soon enough and all he had to do was be patient and wait, but he found that patience in battle and patience of the heart were two different things entirely.

After several long moments, Michael leaned forward and took one of her small, ivory colored hands. Her skin felt like silk in his grasp. He cleared his throat and spoke, "I was just about to come and pay you a visit. Whats on your mind, my dear?"

When he had gestured for her to sit, she noticed that the portrait of her which was supposed to be in the drawing room had been moved in here to the wall opposite the heavy mahogany desk. It was directly behind where she now sat. She had said nothing, waiting to be invited to speak first. This was not something she would have normally done, but she needed to be on her best behavior with Michael. Now, her motivation had changed, though. She was learning more and more that she could not eliminate him. He was protecting her from the rest of his men and she knew it was to her benefit that he continue to be pleased with her while staying alive and well. Hed even earned a place in her prayers because of this.

She turned in her chair slightly, looked at the portrait of herself, and asked, "Did you not like the portrait of my late mother-in-law that hung here, General Sheridan? She was quite young and beautiful upon her death and never had a chance to grow old, you know. The particular piece you removed was done shortly before she became pregnant with my husband and was very striking, I thought."

He paused before answering, because he knew what she was getting at and he gave his most honest answer to her tricky question, "When will you begin calling me Michael?" He scowled, "Anyway, to answer your question my dear, I removed the painting and replaced it with yours because I do not find her or any other woman to be as alluring as yourself. The artist captured your likeness almost perfectly."

"It was my husband." Victoria responded, inclining her head.

"Ah yes. Done by one with love in their eyes for the subject. Those make for the best works of art. Your husband is a very talented man, Miss Victoria." Michael squeezed her hand and moved a little closer to her.

"I did not come here to discuss my husband." She said a little too quickly and angrily before she could stop herself. She hadnt wanted Michael to speak of Peter in any way. He did not know Peter and had no right to even think about him, much less form opinions and talk about him in that condescending manner.

"Now there, my little dove." Michael let go of her hand, stood directly in front of her seat and began to smooth her hair as he gently pressed her head against his stomach, "I didnt mean to upset you. What is it you really came to talk with me about?"

She looked up at him, her expression very solemn and worried, "General Sheridan, I am troubled about my mother. Its just occurred to me that Rosedown has probably been overtaken as well, and she is as much alone there as I am here."

Michael brought his free hand up to stroke the side of her face, and closed his eyes at the delicate feel of her high cheek bones. He thought for a moment then collected himself and asked her for the location of her mothers home so he could make the necessary inquiries, but that she should go back up to her room and wait. He found it hard enough to control his want for her when she was in another part of the house, but the way she looked up at him now and her intoxicating presence was having too powerful an effect on him at this moment. Her begging eyes and pleading tone were enough to break his heart and it was easy for him to imagine that she was using those eyes to plead for his affections. It was best to send her away before making a mistake that would ruin the controlled front he had put up so that he could give her time to love him in return.

He escorted her back to her bedroom and she spent the rest of the morning there until he came to collect her for their midday meal. Her thoughts ran quickly from what might to happening to her mother to being extremely relieved that Peter had gone by the time the Yankees arrived. They surely would have killed or at least imprisoned him. She didnt know how Michael would have reacted to her if shed had to fight to her last dying breath to keep a even a precious hair on Peters head from being harmed and she shuddered to think about it.

At precisely 12:00 when she opened her doors to greet Michael, there was an almost sad expression on his features and his tone of voice had changed. He took her hand, and once they were seated at the dining room table, he said softly, "Miss Victoria, I have looked in to the status of your childhood home and regret to inform you that your mother is no longer living."

"What?" Victoria hollered, shooting up from her chair. "What do you mean my mother is no longer living?"

Sally had come in to serve their food and tears sprung to her eyes at Victorias outburst. She seemed glued to the floor until Michael glared at her and growled for her to get out. She did so quickly, dropping a serving spoon in her fright.

After Sally had gone, Michael drew Victoria into his lap and stroked both of her arms then began his explanation in her ear, "Calm down, my little dove, and I will tell you what happened. You must promise, though, to hold your temper. It is not healthy for you to be so very upset. Unfortunately, some of my scouts were sent to your childhood home several days ago and it seems that your mother was literally frightened to death by their appearance. She did not have your strength or spirit, Im afraid."

"Why thats the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard." Victoria raised her voice loudly and squirmed in his grip. The fact was that she had been born late in her mothers life and she knew her mother might not have long to live as she was frail, had a weak heart and Mr. Bartletts absence had taken an immense toll on her as well.

Michael frowned and pulled her more closely, using gentle pressure and a soothing voice to try and calm her. "My little dove, please believe me. It pained me to have to tell you this, but...."

She began shaking with anger and cut him off and spat out her words, "You Yankee bastard. Not only have you all taken my husband away from me, invaded my home and killed my father-in-law, but now youve killed my mother as well. And dont try to tell me it was just your duty. You killed her, General Sheridan, just as if you had done it yourself, and there was no sense in it. My mother wouldnt even hurt a fly. I hate you."

Victorias words devastated Michael and he was stunned for a moment before he realized that she really did not hate him and it was just her grief talking. Over the time he had been here, shed warmed up to him considerably and shed even laughed with him on occasion. Hed seen the look in her eyes when he came to visit her during the day. It was not the same one he had when he looked at her, but it was a fondness just the same.

After taking a very brief moment to process these thoughts and frame his response, he addressed her again and began to smooth her hair, "Please remember that I may be an officer in the Union Army, but I am a southerner just like yourself. Ive told you before that I simply did not see the sense in fighting for a lost cause. The military was my life and I chose the side destined for victory. If you can honestly tell me that your husband thinks the Rebels can win this war, Ill eat my hat. From what Ive managed to glean, he seems like a fairly intelligent man and anyone with half a brain knows that the south doesnt stand a chance. You ask me not to tell you that your mother was killed in the line of our duty and you say that I might as well have killed her myself. Tell me, would you think differently if your husband was required to use some northern womans house for his headquarters? Yes, my darling child. It was done in the line of duty and I cannot be responsible for the actions of all of my men every second of the day. You know that I have done nothing to harm you and had I even been there to personally guarantee that your mother was treated gently, I could not guarantee her reaction. Did you ever stop to think about how violently all of you react to our presence? Frankly, I dont know how she was treated. I would hope that it was with dignity and respect, but she may have been just as frightened and worked herself up just as much, either way. You reacted to me in a violent manner. Had your mother possessed your strength of heart, she would more than likely still be with us today."

Victoria listened carefully to what he said. The part about her thinking differently if Peter possibly needed to use some northern womans house for his headquarters really got to her. Michael had treated her kindly, it was true. It would have been just as easy, or maybe even more easy for him to allow destruction of every square inch of her home and destruction of her as well. However, he had not allowed or participated in that and she was grateful.

"What did they do with her body?" Victoria finally asked.

"I was told that she was buried on the side of the house near what appeared to have once been a rose garden." He answered.

"Fine." Victoria turned around in his lap to sit sideways so she could see his face, "I want to see it for myself."

"My little dove, things are getting such that I cannot risk taking you out to travel even that short of a distance. It is my fear that I would be unable to protect you properly. Just know that your mother was given a proper burial and that I am eternally sorry for your loss." He knew she was fairly green in the ways of the world and hoped she would understand the seriousness of the situation around them. After all, if the fighting had not been so dangerously close, he would not even be here. It was evident that her husband had kept her sheltered and while Michael did not wish to ruin that, he also had no wish to lose her to a surprise attack along the way to Rosedown.

Victoria might have been sheltered, but she could usually tell a lie when she heard one. In addition to that, she had an uncanny ability to be able to tell the good people from the bad. Even though she hated to admit it, Michael was a "good" person. He was essentially honest, trustworthy and had a fierce desire to protect her.

In her exhaustion, she let her head drop against his shoulder and said, "I understand."

"Good, now I want you to try and eat something to keep your strength up." He said, standing her on the floor and pulling out the chair next to his for her to sit.

She ate enough to get him to stop pestering her, and shortly the meal was over. He escorted her back to her room like he had been doing all along since hed come here, and he promised to be back to get her at 5:00 for dinner. As soon as he was gone, she threw herself down face first on the large, soft bed, letting the grief of her mothers death wash over her as her body shook in violent sobs.

Several weeks later, Michael came to get Victoria for breakfast one morning and he had a large white box in his arms, tied with a blue bow. He silently held the box out to her and indicated that she should take it. She walked to the bed, put the box down and slowly untied the bow, peeking inside. It turned out to be a new dress made of the finest deep blue velvet. She held it up in front of her, trying to hide the large smile that came. It had been so long since shed had anything new and it seemed like she had been in mourning forever. Shed considered wearing other colors, of course, but could not possibly do such a thing, especially now that her mother had just died. Black was her favorite color and she thought it a shame that it was reserved only for mourning, but discovered she missed the freedom of deciding what color she would wear and when.

She had her face buried in the material for so long that he eventually came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, bending down and whispering in her hear, "Like it?"

"Michael, I" Victoria knew shed slipped up as soon as shed opened her mouth.

He began to turn her around and she let the dress she still held drop to the bed. He lifted her chin with his finger and looked deeply into his eyes. His expression was one of tender love as he spoke to her, "No more General Sheridan, I see. Is that because of the dress? You like it that much, do you?"

By now, hed been here over a month and she was surprised that shed managed to hold out this long. Breathing a sigh of relief that she didnt have to watch herself around him anymore, but greatly upset that shed let her guard down, she made a low giggling noise, "No, its not the dress, but I do like it. I only kept calling you General Sheridan because I knew it distressed you."

"Do you have a heart in there, Miss Victoria? You seem to enjoy driving your dagger through mine." He teased, still holding her chin up so that she had to look at him. He felt himself bending down further and drawing dangerously closer to her inviting lips. He could not tell if she was going to allow him to kiss her at this point, but suddenly he backed away and returned to the doorway. "I want you to wear that, please. It will be beautiful on you."

"You know I cant wear this. Im in mourning." Victoria answered, raising her eyebrow at him.

"Not anymore, youre not." He replied, "Ill send your mammy up here, then Ill be back in ten minutes to take you down to breakfast." He reopened the doors to her room and began to head out.

She frowned only slightly then looked at the dress again, biting her lower lip and blushing, "Michael." She called after him.

He turned around and raised his own eyebrow, "Yes, my little dove?"

"Thank you." Victoria inclined her head then turned her back to him. She was still blushing when Mammy came to her room.

When he came back ten minutes later, she was indeed clothed in the elegant dress he had bought for her. Before he got there, shed spent plenty of time turning around and gazing at herself in the mirror. She blushed, reflecting back to years ago when shed looked at herself like this, knowing shed get attention from Peter for her beauty. More red came to her cheeks when she realized that now, she was pleased that Michael would be giving the attention. She was almost angry at herself when Mammy let him into the room, shaking her head on her way out.

Michael was speechless as his eyes took her in. If she had been the most beautiful creature hed seen in his life until this moment, he did not have words to describe how she pleasing she was in the dress hed gotten for her. After a moment of trying to form an appropriate statement, he took the necessary steps to hold her close. He placed the side of his face on the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. She smelled like a delicately fragrant wildflower and the smell had filled his dreams since hed arrived. Nothing satisfied him like the real thing, though, and he held his breath for as long as possible, only reluctantly breathing out.

As he held her like that, resting his cheek on the top of her head and using the gentle pressure of his arms around her, she reflected on what their relationship had become. At first, shed allowed him to hold her because she wanted to trick him into thinking she liked it, wanting to get close enough and gain his trust so that she could catch him off guard and kill him when the time was appropriate. Next, shed come to the realization that she needed him to protect her and had let him hold her, resigning herself to the fact that it had to be, in order to pacify him. Shed tried once to pretend that he was Peter, but it had not worked because they were built nothing alike.

Now, searching herself, Victoria found that she enjoyed Michaels comforts greatly. He was strong, powerful and very charming. Shed seen his temper directed at his men and the house workers many times since hed come here, but he had never ever turned on her, no matter what shed done, wittingly or not, to make his temper rise. What was more, she realized that she and he had lived together already longer than she and Peter had.

Victoria remained silent and continued to think. Peter. She had not heard from him since hed managed to get away over a month ago and spend that one precious day with her. As her panic had risen when shed wondered about her mother, it did when she thought about Peter right now. What if he'd been captured or killed on his way back to battle? What if hed gotten back safely but had been captured or killed since then? She had been able to hold back her tears regarding her mother in front of Michael, but when it came to Peter, she could not do this. Sudden sobs began to hitch in her chest and she hated herself for her fondness regarding the feel of Michaels arms around her.

He held her away from him, a look of extreme worry and concern on his face as he watched her cry. No matter what shed been through since hed come here, he had seen no signs of anything like this. Whatever it was, it must be something shattering to her little world. He bent down and put his finger under her chin again, wiping the tears from her eyes with a handkerchief hed pulled out with his other hand. "My little dove, what troubles you?"

Victoria jerked her head away from him, snatched the handkerchief from his hand and turned around, wiping furiously at her eyes, "Its nothing. You wouldnt understand, Im sure, General Sheridan."

"Oh now, what makes you say such a thing? I thought wed come so far, but now youre back to General Sheridan. I hope Ive been understanding with you so far and wish youd give me the chance to understand whatever this is thats got you in tears. Victoria, its breaking my heart." Michael held his hand out to her back, but did not touch her or draw any closer.

She whirled on him, tears still streaming down her face, "Breaking your heart? What do you know about love and hearts? Ill tell you if you must know whats got me in tears. Its my husband. You remember him, dont you? He does exist and I have not heard from him since youve come here. Ill tell you a little something. The reason I was sick the day you got here was because hed just left me. Hed managed to get away from the fighting to come and spend one day here. One precious, wonderful day. It pained me greatly to see him leave here again. No, Ive not heard from him since he left and I can only assume the worst. But you wouldnt know or care about that, would you?"

He looked at the floor then put his hands in his pockets, the most boyish, insecure gesture Victoria had ever seen him use. Finally, after thinking for a moment, he spoke evenly and quietly, meeting her gaze. "Victoria, I hope you dont hold it against me if I continue to call you that, but I feel that Ive known you much longer than I actually have. Believe it or not, I understand love much more than you would think."

"How is that? Is there a Mrs. Sheridan at home?" Victoria asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There is no Mrs. Sheridan. Not yet. I told you before that my life has always revolved around the military and I meant that." Michael considered telling her that the reason that he understood love so well was that he was madly, passionately, hopelessly in love with her and that this was no passing phase or simple physical need, but a life long commitment he wished to make. He had held it in for so long, he thought his heart would burst, but this was an inappropriate time and might have the opposite effect on her that he wished it to have. The tears she cried just drew him closer to her and made him want to protect her all the more.

"I see. Then you really dont understand." She responded, turning around again and continuing to cry, although silently.

Finally, he did take some action to physically comfort her. He sat in a chair by the bed and held out his hand, calling her softly, "Victoria. Please."

Not even knowing why, she obeyed his request, but did what hed never thought or expected. Instead of taking his hand or sitting in his lap and curling up, she sat at his feet and placed her head against his knees. Michael made several false starts, then placed his hand on her head and smoothed her hair, making little shushing noises and telling her things would be alright.

When he spoke again, it was with a trembling voice. This was very hard for him to say, "I will try to find out where your husband is and if he is still alive. I cannot promise anything, but I do have access to certain information. I do not wish to upset you any further, but if he is imprisoned or has been recently killed in battle, I should be able to learn of it in a few days or so. I will only do this if you wish it, though."

She looked up at him with sorrowful brown eyes, having forced most of her tears to stop, "I would appreciate any information you could give me and I would be forever in your debt, Michael."

"Then it shall be done. Lets keep it at Michael, please. Now, I want you to come and take breakfast with me so that you can keep your strength up. You might need it."

Over the next month, Michael had a gift for her at least several times a week. Hed given her a necklace made of garnets and ear bobs to match, another necklace on which hung a solitary round diamond, a strand of pearls and matching bracelet, and even more elegant, expensive dresses of all colors and materials. She wore them, of course, but told him every time that she didnt know why she did. She knew, though. Shed always been a little spoiled and had missed it greatly. Michael had the power, money and resources to bring her the things shed missed along with the intangible things he provided that were simply priceless.

There had been no news of Peter, and Michael carefully avoided talking to her about it as to keep from upsetting her further. She knew he was doing what he could to find out and that was more than she could have ever expected, in reality. He did treat her very well, she thought, and by now they had lived together not just a little longer, but far longer than she and Peter ever had.

Her nights were spent tossing and turning while thinking about the love she held for a husband who, by all odds, would never return. As soon as those thoughts left her head, the subject would always turn to Michael and how she felt something towards him that was inappropriate, to say the very least. He was undeniably extremely handsome, magnetic and all of the other things she desperately wished he wasnt. Most importantly, he was warm. His embrace was so warm. She fought it tooth and nail, but it seemed the harder she struggled against the notion, the more time she was having to spend denying these feelings. This could only mean that, try as she might not to be, she was in love with her benefactor.

Michael, too, was sleeping less and less as time went on. The fact that Victoria was in the adjoining bedroom didnt help him one little bit. When he was able to sleep, his dreams were overrun with visions of her. Hed seen something in her eyes from the time they had first locked gazes, but knew that she loved her husband very much. She had warmed up greatly, though, and all the understanding, love, attention and gifts hed lavished on her didnt hurt. He wondered when and if he would find out about her husband and while he hated to admit it, he hoped the news would be one of Peter MacNamaras death.

Over time, Michael and Victoria had managed to grow extraordinarily close. The conversations they had during the day were deeper than any of the ones Victoria and Peter had ever shared. Shed known of Peter and his family situation most of her life, and theyd never had much to talk about in that area. In addition, Peter did not believe in war, slavery, or place a high importance on material items. Michael, on the other hand, was just the opposite. He believed more the way Victoria did and the fact that he was an officer in the Union Army did not mean he didnt believe in the southern way of life. What it did mean was that hed been wise enough to have a plan that would keep him just as prosperous after the war as he had been before it. He was fighting not for his past, but for his future, and now he was fighting for Victorias future as well.

Somewhere along the way, they lost track of how long theyd shared almost everything a happily married couple could, in this particular situation. There had been no single defining moment, but it was there just the same. They would certainly appear to be married to any outside observer even though Michael had yet to tell her he was in love with her. It was evident, though, and hed had many close calls. The only other lacking factor was that their physical closeness had not moved beyond the simple comforting gestures Michael provided. He always held her to him whenever possible, and there had been many times he had leaned in with the intention of kissing her and then moved away because he knew she was not ready. Hed controlled his reactions for too long to blow it in a minute of haste now. The time was coming, though. He could feel it.

One day well into the third month he had been there, he paid her a visit an hour or so after hed taken her back to her room from their midday meal. She had been sitting in her window seat, as usual, and was wearing the red, long sleeved satin and velvet dress hed purchased for her the week before. She liked this dress particularly, and had to admit that he had wonderful taste in clothing. She was picking at the satin skirt when he knocked at her door.

"Victoria, let me in, please." Michael called through the door.

The last time shed heard this tone in his voice was when hed told her that her mother was dead. She knew this wouldnt be good and tried to steel herself for whatever it was, hoping to God that it wasnt Peter who was dead or in trouble. It could be nothing else, though, unless it was her father. That thought only helped slightly.

Michael looked down upon her with genuine empathy as she opened the doors. He kissed her on top of the head (the only type of kiss he had ever given her) then moved her back only enough to enter the room and close the doors behind him. He took one of her hands and led her to the chair by the fireplace, gently pushing her into a sitting position then bent at the knees so he could look into her eyes more easily. He now held both of her hands in his and inclined his head for a moment.

"Whos dead?" Victoria asked bluntly. She could stand it no longer.

"Am I that easy to read, my little dove? Dont tell me you know all of my secrets." Michael responded softly. Now was not the time for his flirtations, though, and he went on, having raised his head to look up at her again, "My messenger returned this morning and Im afraid Ive learned that your father has been killed in battle. I also have news of your husband."

As insensitive as it might have been, Victorias grief for her father was cast aside as she waited for what Michael would tell her about Peter. After all, it was he who her life revolved around, at least until Michael had come and dominated her world. "What... what about him?" She asked, taking the handkerchief Michael offered her and wiping at the fresh tears that sprung to her eyes.

"Its not quite as bad as you might think. Not yet. He was captured along with some of the other men under his command and he is being imprisoned." Michael stopped for a moment to watch her reaction. She was crying in full force now, though silently. He held onto her free hand and reached up to stroke the side of her face with his other one, hesitating to tell her the rest of what she should know.

"What is it? Theres something youre not telling me. Whatever it is, I want to know and I dont want you to make it seem better than it actually is." She said through her tears, meaning every word. Victoria was very aware that she was continually sheltered and had played along all of her life. This time she needed to know the whole truth, no matter how badly it might hurt.

"Alright. The situation of a prisoner under these circumstances is never good, and you could not possibly imagine the poor conditions he is living in. I was also informed that your husband has pneumonia. It seems to be a very severe case and theres some doubt as to whether or not he will survive for very long. If he does, he will surely see himself shot or at the end of a hangmans noose within a short amount of time. You wanted it straight, Victoria. The fact is that your husbands fate has been sealed, one way or another. I am sorry." He was sorry. Very much so, and had never wanted to see an expression on her face like the one it held now.

He briefly considered travelling to where Peter was being held to make certain that he was at least being treated like a human being, but dismissed the idea right away. First off, he did not know how he would react to the man who held Victorias heart, and didnt know if his concern for her current wishes would override the impulse he might have to do away with Peter himself. Secondly, he could not leave here without either taking her with him and risking her life or leaving her and risking her safety at the hands of his men who would waste no time trying to get at her. No, it just was a bad idea and he would have to wait it out and see how long it took for Peter to either die on his own or to be executed.

Victoria stammered for a moment, "Well I. then, whats left for me?" She asked, hopelessly searching Michaels caring brown eyes. She had gotten past the point of blaming him personally for causing these things. That had been irrational and he, like Peter, and everyone on either side of the war were just doing what they thought necessary. He had made her see that long ago.

Michael wanted so much to see an end to the pain that took over her entire being. The poor little dear had suffered many losses since hed known her and he desperately wished that things could have been different. A woman as angelic as herself who was so loving, intelligent, spirited and completely unspoiled by the cruel ways of the world was a rare find indeed. It was a shame that she could not be allowed to live in the dream world she held so closely to her heart, but he wanted a chance to create another one for her. It might or might not be the time for him to confess his undying love, and he weighed the poor timing against the way it may make her feel. If she could possibly love him in return, it would give her something to cling to and lessen her heartache. If she could not love him, it might have the opposite effect and make her hate him forever.

"I dont want to live anymore." Victoria finally said, overwrought with hopelessness as Michael thought.

That snapped him back from his deep reverie and he clenched her hands tightly, bringing his eyes to hers once more, "My sweet young child. I have fought with this notion ever since the moment I first looked upon you and do not wish to add to your distress. But, it cannot have escaped your attention, no matter how hard I have tried to hide it, that for quite some time now, I have been consumed by a profound love for you. Before you respond, please know that I am painfully aware of your marital status and that it was not my intention to fall for you as I have. While I am greatly sorry for your losses and do not wish to want your husband dead or harmed in any way, for your sake, that I do just the same. I love you, my little dove and it is my desire to take you away from all of this once the war is over. It is my greatest hope that you will love me in return and do me the honor of becoming my bride. You will go on living and I want the opportunity to make you happy that you did."

Victoria was aware that hed held an affection for her and had, of course, discovered to her dismay that shed felt love for him as well. She was shocked by his confession, none the less because shed been telling herself that he had just been toying with her while he was here and that when the war was over, hed be gone, never to be heard from again. That thought had upset her in a way she wished it hadnt. Not only was she greatly attracted to him, much against her will, but he had become her best friend, strange circumstances or not. Her tears slowed and she responded softly, "Michael, I dont quite know what to say. I knew, but I thought ..." She didnt finish by telling him she thought she was just a passing distraction for his amusement.

At least that was a start. She hadnt reached out to smack him or begun screaming at the top of her lungs. A wave of relief washed over him, so pleased that he did not have to hold his words or actions inside anymore. "If you were thinking that you were just a sweet diversion for me while the war was on, you couldnt have been more wrong. Frankly, I dont know what I would have done if your husband had returned here. I hadnt got that far in my thinking, because I knew his situation was grim and while I do not wish him personal harm, I also couldnt live with the thought that he might return and pry you from my arms one day. I need you to come home with me."

Victorias eyes flashed back and forth as she searched the soul he had laid bare for her to see, "And you have had these thoughts since your arrival? Why did you not tell me sooner?"

"There was never an appropriate time, because it was important for me to have your love and respect in return. This is not even an appropriate time, but I had hoped that it would help to ease some of your pain as opposed to overloading you or making you despise me for my uncontrolled affections." He stood and pulled her to him, hugging her closely and smoothing her hair as he always did, sighing at how deeply he loved her and how heavenly she felt in his embrace.

After all that Michael had done for her, she felt that he deserved a proper response, but just could not come up with one at the moment. The feeling of extreme of guilt for loving him in return would not leave her heart, making her feel lost and unstable. Just when it seemed that there was something to cling to, thoughts of Peter would come crashing back and some small voice in her head reminded her that she was being untrue to him when hed done nothing to deserve such evil treatment. In fact, he was lying somewhere suffering right now, wanting more than anything to come home to her. What hed find when he got back would surely kill him if by some sliver of a chance he managed to escape the sickness that overtook him or the captors that wanted him executed.

Fortunately, Michael read her mind and spoke softly, "You do not have to respond to me right now. I know youve got too much to handle and are very confused. I just want you to know that Im here and love you more than should ever be allowed. To answer your previous question, I am what is left for you, if you will have me. Ive given my duties this afternoon to a captain I can trust and am at your disposal unless you wish me to leave."

"Stay." She murmured into his lower chest. She didnt want to be alone and was going to cling to him for all she was worth.

"Alright." He agreed softly, his heart beating quickly with the conflicting emotions rising up in him. He felt so much pity for her situation, but the shed given him hope of realizing his dreams for them, making him incredibly happy.

Gently, he led her over to her bed, sitting there for the first time, and held onto her hands as she began sobbing again. He sat up against the headboard and she laid down, resting her head in his lap while he smoothed her soft raven hair and watched her fall into a fitful sleep. He wondered what she usually dreamt about and if he had any part in it.

Michael had left strict orders that he was not to be interrupted for any reason and when Mammy knocked hours later, he growled more loudly than hed intended, "Go away."

"General Sheridan. Its Mammy. Its time for yalls suppah and I was a wonderin if yous was gwnna come eat or if I should bring it up" Mammy called from the other side of the door.

Victoria began to stir and Michael smiled down at her softly, "Bring it up, Mammy. And bring some brandy, too." He had lowered his voice greatly, but it was enough for her to hear though the closed doors.

"Yessir." Mammy mumbled. Her slowly retreating footsteps could be heard for just a moment.

"How are you, my little dove?" Michael asked her, "Your sleep didnt look very restful."

She realized that her head was still in his lap and that hed sat here with her the entire time. It must have been at least 2-3 hours, and that made her blush. She wanted to sit up, because of their compromising position, but the gentle pressure of his hand on her hair stopped her. His petting motions soothed her headache and she didnt want them to stop. When Victoria woke up, she was always a little out of it and Michael had never seen her like that before. Right now, she was too disoriented to make an effort to halt the purring noise that came from her throat.

Michael was startled at first that she would be making a noise of pleasure under his touch and his motions halted until she worked her head further into his lap and made a begging noise that sent a thrill through his body. He sighed and put his desire in check as a half smile showed itself and he continued petting her. It didnt matter one bit that she didnt answer his question. She seemed just fine to him.

Shortly, Mammy knocked on the door and entered when Michael told her to proceed. She carried a tray with various dishes and a bottle of brandy on it. Her eyes got wide as saucers when she saw Mr. Peters Miss Victoria on the bed with her head resting in the Yankee Generals lap. She had disapproved of them being up here together, and the bottle of brandy was something she liked even less. The laying down together would never ever do, she thought.

Michael chuckled at the look on her face and said, "Miss Victoria is not feeling well which is why we need the food and the brandy brought here. It would also explain the position were in, just in case youre wondering, Mammy." It even surprised him how much the hope of having Victorias love in return had calmed his manner. At any other time, he would have growled or worse at a look like that from someone. Now, it just seemed amusing to him.

Mammy scowled at him and shook her head, making several grunting noises and murmuring something about Yankees as she left the room and slammed the doors.

"Do you think your mammy would like to come with us when we leave?" Michael joked before he could stop himself.

Victoria looked up at him with a lost expression, "I never said I was leaving here, Michael."

"Right." He said softly, knowing she just needed more time. Hoping, more like it. There was a good chance and he just had to ride it out. If she refused to leave with him, hed just refuse to leave this house in return. There was no way he could leave her alone here with looters and who knew what coming around after the war was over. Victoria needed a man and with no husband, father or father-in-law, there was nobody for her. Nobody but him and he was going to be what she needed, one way or the other. He gently indicated that it was time to get up and led her to the small table that the food was sitting on.

They ate quietly, Victoria still too sleepy to say much, and Michael too intent on watching her every expression and making sure she got enough to eat. She certainly did get enough to drink and by the time the meal was over, she was effectively drunk. This was another side of her hed never seen and he smiled at how cute and silly drinking made her, once shed had enough. It made her open up even more than she ever had and, shortly, he knew all about her childhood home, parents, games she used to play as a little girl, and even the names of all their horses. Theyd talked about a lot of things before, but she had never gotten this far into detail and he found everything she said charming and delightful.

After a time, Victoria stood and silently teetered over to his chair, standing before him. He reached up and took both of her hands as she blinked back at him in a haze. He hadnt expected, at all, what she did next. Her eyes closed, she leaned in, and tilted her head back while waiting for a kiss. Never in his life had he been nervous about anything and the feeling was so overpowering that it made him hesitate, something he only ever found himself doing with her. Here he was, a grown man and a decorated Union Army General and this young lady had turned him to putty. But there was something wrong about the moment.

"Arent you going to kiss me?" She finally asked, hearing his quickened breathing and opening one eye. "Dont you want to?"

"Oh I want to." He said after recovering, bringing her head upright with his hands on either side of her face. When she opened both of her eyes and looked back at him, he continued, "You, my little dove, are far too intoxicated and are not ready. Ive controlled myself these last few months and will continue to do so until you want to kiss me and you are sober. I want you to remember it."

She began to pace the room, wobbling as she did so, her heavy skirts swishing, "But you told me you love me. You said you wanted me to marry you and now you wont even kiss me?"

"I do love you, with all of my heart, I might add. I do want to you to marry me, but what I want before that is a first kiss that you will remember for the rest of your life. That kiss will happen at the right time when we are both ready and for the proper reasons." He tugged on his jacket with both hands to smooth it then intercepted her, mid-pace placing his hands on her tiny shoulders, "Do we understand one another?"

Being tipsy had made her cheeks rosy and her eyes take on a surreal haze. She was peering up at him though that haze right now. His words made her stop and consider whether or not shed be asking for this kiss should she be sober. Probably not, she reasoned, but this seemed as if she was watching herself from somewhere else and was unable to stop laying it on so thick. It had been several years since shed flirted with anyone and being drunk had brought out that young child that couldnt resist baiting this handsome man whos attraction to her was so strong. Victoria was not aware of how much his heart was actually involved and the thought that she could hurt him wouldnt even have entered her head had she had not had so much brandy, much less now.

"I understand, General Sheridan." She used it because she knew the effect it had on him. "Youre simply toying with my affections. Arent you?" She molded her body to his and tilted her head back by placing her chin on his chest.

He held her closer, trying to keep the pressure of his arms gentle. He had held her many times, but this was the first time she had pushed against him like this and it made his heart wrench as he tried to hold back from claiming her right now. He began to smooth her hair, placing his mouth so close to hers that they took each others breath for long moments. "That is the last thing I am doing, and in case youve forgotten, weve been to Michael for what? Two months now? You and I know each other better than that and I do wish you would stop trying to toy with my affections by using my title and last name whenever it suits you. I love you more than any man ever should, I want you and I need you. Keeping from kissing you right now is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, but Im going to keep from it, because youll thank me later."

"Its going to be that great, is it?" Victoria asked, still pressing herself against him.

"You can take that to the bank, little miss. Just not a southern one." He chuckled and tried to change the subject before he could give in to her charms. He was head over heels for her and one more attempt on her part would certainly wear down the resolve hed had to make sure that the first touch of their lips would be right for her. He loved her that much. So much that it pained him not to kiss her, but so much that it would have pained him more for her to do it at a time she could forget even a second of it, or worse yet, hate herself for doing it when she woke up tomorrow morning. "Now, youve had a trying day, have a lot of things on your mind and are very drunk. I want you to get to sleep and Ill come and see you first thing in the morning."

"I dont want you to leave." She said, seeming to sober immediately, "I dont want to go to sleep alone."

He was unsure how to interpret her statement. Certainly, she did not mean that she wanted him to share her bed this night. Even if she did, it was not a request he could allow himself to comply with, however much he wanted to. If the time was not right for a kiss, it surely was not the time for something such as that. He decided to make her an offer, "I tell you what. Ill get Mammy to come up here and help you get undressed, into your nightgown, and take these dishes away. Meanwhile, Ill be waiting in my room. When she tells me youre ready, Ill come back until you fall asleep. Does that sound fair?"

"I guess Ill have to take that and hope for better things later." Victoria flirted in response.

He took a deep breath, putting his want for her in check once more and led her to the window seat, guiding her into a sitting position, more abruptly than hed wanted to. "You sit right here and Ill go get Mammy."

"Alright." Victoria sighed, arranging her skirt, "And Michael?"

"Yes." He turned around from his place at her bedroom doors. He was just opening them.

"Ill tell you when you get back." She smiled at him as he left the room, shaking his head.

Mammy came and helped her into her nightclothes, all the while giving her a lecture about getting drunk with the Yankee General in her room alone, no less. As if everything else had not been too much for Mammy to take, now Miss Victoria was going to be in here alone with him, drunk and in her bedclothes. It just wasnt right as far as she was concerned. News of Peters capture and imminent death had spread like wildfire thought the house via the Yankee messengers carelessness that day (in fact, some of the men and a few of the small handful of house workers thought Peter was already dead), and it made Mammy want to know if Miss Victoria was going to marry that Yankee General.

What she received in response was a sly smile and a twinkle of Victorias dazed eyes as she said, "I havent decided yet."

To Mammy, that sounded too close to a "yes" and she roughly hustled Victoria into bed, jerked the covers up around her shoulders, gathered the dishes and left the room. She did send Michael in, however, and he came to Victorias bedside with a loving look in his eyes.

He pulled a chair next to the bed and held her hand in his, "Now, you get your rest and I will see you in the morning."

He kissed her forehead briefly and noticed she was already half asleep. Whatever shed wanted to tell him would have to wait. After several hours, he reluctantly left her bedside, not wishing to invade her privacy by being there when she woke in the morning, but desperately wanting to stay the night by her side. He could watch her sleep forever, and thought how much she looked just like an angel.

The next few days were strained indeed. Victoria did not speak much, but sat silently during meals or when he came to visit her between them. When he was not there, her hours were spent crying in despair. Shed not even acknowledged the fact that Michael had told her of his love and intentions.

By the third day, Michael was desperately worried. He could not tell if her attitude could be attributed to the news of her imprisoned husband, or if it was because he had told her he loved her. What was worse, he didnt even know if shed been too intoxicated to remember being told of his love. Whatever was bothering her, he had let it go on long enough and if she did not change today, he would break through and get to the bottom of what was troubling her then offer anything to help brighten her spirit. He had one more gift to give, and that was himself. He prayed she would accept this one like she had all the others.

He was still thinking about this, and attempting to review a battle plan when the library doors opened. Michael shot up from his chair, scowled, and was about to tear into whoever dared come in without knocking. Hed been about to do it until he saw her standing in the doorway. Most of his men were not in the house right now, and Victoria had gotten to his office in silence.

"Come in, my little dove." He said, making sure his tone was gentle. He held out his hand and came out from behind the desk, noting that she was wearing the first dress hed bought for her, the blue velvet one.

She accepted his hand and sat in one of the chairs across from his desk. Inclining her head, she whispered, almost too quietly for him to hear, "Michael, I feel that I owe you an explanation for my rude behavior these last few days. Youve been wonderful to me and Ive behaved like a spoiled child. I am sorry."

"My dear, you are a spoiled child, but thats part of your charm. I love you for it." He couldnt help but chuckle and hoped she didnt take his comment the wrong way. She was just darling and she was spoiled, but sweetly so. Shed not been ill-mannered like most spoiled people hed met through the years, which why she was such a mystery to him, a rarity. The war had taken her pampering away, though, and he was bound and determined to give it back ot her.

"Well, I am not quite sure what to say to that, but I only think it fair to let you know that I return your love." Victoria was not looking into his eyes, but at the floor and her voice had been so quiet that he had to ask her again to make sure he was not dreaming.

His free hand found its way underneath her chin and he knelt before her, finding her gaze, "What did you say, my little dove?"

"I said I love you." She responded, more clearly this time, but soft just the same.

He was astonished to hear it, but could see the truth in her eyes. As soon as this first precious moment passed, he would ask her for an explanation, but right now was not the time to hesitate with her. In a split second, he placed his hands behind her neck and drew her into the longest, most impassioned kiss either of them could have dreamed of. It was filled with needful urgency and love too long restrained. Their kiss was hard and soft at the same time, too long yet not long enough. It was like heaven.

They broke apart only when Victoria was light-headed and quite out of breath. Against her will, shed had to pull back. Shed only ever kissed Peter before and while his kisses were wonderful, they were nothing like this one had been. It was as if this was her first kiss from a man as opposed to a boy and as if her eyes had been opened to a completely different world. Peter was sweet. Michael was seductive, powerful and godlike. For the first time in her life, she felt like a true woman, almost as if kissing him had made the child she had been disappear into thin air.

He kept his hands on the back of her neck and they rested their foreheads together while struggling for the proper words to fit the occasion. Both of them were more than a little taken aback, to say the least. Michaels first dream for them had come true and now he just needed to work on the rest. He took another kiss from her sweet lips, this time using great care to keep it soft and a little less intense, even though he yearned for another just like the first. He had no desire to make her faint and it was plain that she was fighting for consciousness. Had he been a lesser man, he would have been doing the same. As it was, it was hard enough for him to remain upright. He managed to stand from his kneeling position, pulled her up, sat the chair then took her into his lap, taking great care not to drop her in the weakness her kiss had caused him.

Knowing that both of them were painfully aware of how wonderful what theyd just shared was, he didnt see the point in asking her what she thought about it or telling her what hed thought. He wanted to know what had made her come to him, "Now, my little dove. Would you please do me the honor of telling me what made you decide to love me in return? Ive been very worried about you these last few days, as I am sure you know."

"Yes." She said, resting her head against his chest, "I am sorry about that. Michael, I do love my husband, and as odd as this seems, what you and I have doesnt make me love him any less. I have been attracted to you for quite some time now, and even before you said you loved me, I found myself afraid of what would happen when you left here. The thought of never seeing you again was frightening. Ive come to realize that Peter is not coming back, and even if he did, I dont know what I would do in your absence. I have greatly struggled with this notion these last three days. It is obvious that youve become my closest friend, you occupy a great deal of my thoughts, I do so enjoy being held by you, and" She paused at this point to choke out the words. This was very embarrassing, "I need another of your kisses." It was not a request he could even consider ignoring.

Against anything he would have done before meeting her, he put off all of his duties that afternoon so that they could share as much time alone together on this very important day as possible. She had mentioned nothing about accepting his proposal of marriage, but left it unspoken and Michael resolved to have a ring for her before asking again.

As the days and weeks continued, Victoria began to realize that the love she had for Peter was indeed not completely separate from the love she held for Michael, as she had first thought. Peter seemed more and more of a fond but sad memory while her love for Michael was all consuming and took up most of her thoughts. She had not heard from or any mention of Peter in so long that she had already resigned herself to the idea that he was gone forever and she had to go on with the rest of her life, as opposed to living in the past. Michaels life example had taught her a valuable lesson about that.

Shed accepted Michaels proposal of marriage just the day before and now sat in her bedroom at a small table, designing her wedding dress with tears of joy sparkling in her eyes. Their life together would be so wonderful, and would have a chance to really begin once this war was over. Michael had told her that the end was very near and she had been packing her things with the hopes of starting the next phase of her life within the month, leaving this place and moving to Kentucky with Michael to a fabulous new home, one that held no unhappy memories.

When she was done with her drawing, she rolled it up and tied a satin white bow around it, one she usually wore in her hair. She looked down once at the large diamond ring Michael had placed on her finger just yesterday. It gleamed and shimmered in the early afternoon light that shone through the large window of her bedroom.

Next, she ran down the stairs and towards the library, clutching the sketch of the wedding dress she wanted. Thankfully, most of the Yankees were outside again and she was able to run into the library without much notice from the ones that were there. When she opened the doors, there was a messenger standing in front of Michaels desk and he was speaking.

"MacNamara tried to escape just two days ago. He was shot and killed, sir." The messenger had not stopped when shed run in, maybe because he was too slow witted to do so.

It didnt matter why, but shed heard what she was certain Michael did not want her to hear. Not in that way, to be sure. She dropped the paper shed brought in, clutched at her heart, and began to sob uncontrollably.

Michael immediately came to hold her against him and smoothed her hair, then shouted at the poor messenger, "How ignorant can one person possibly be, Private Morris? Dont you know any better than to continue blurting things out like that when someone else enters a room? Get out of my presence before I kill you with my bare hands. And do not breathe another word of this to anyone." His growl continued in his chest until the messenger sheepishly left the room and closed the double doors almost inaudibly.

Victoria began to cry loudly, wailing about her poor Peter. She knew it had been coming one way or the other, but this was not the optimum way to find out. By convincing herself that hed already been dead and it was not something shed have to deal with in the future, the pain had been numbed. But now, hearing that hed been shot and killed while trying to escape and get back to her was enough to tear Victorias heart right of her chest.

The comforting gestures Michael used continued as he quietly shushed her and told her that it would be alright. There was nothing more for him to say and he knew she just needed his quiet care. After a time, he decided that she needed to go back to sleep, and bent down to pick up her sketch, placing it on his desk. He then carried her in his strong arms back towards her bedroom, passing Mammy on the way and instructing her to bring brandy, lots of it.

He spent the next several hours hovering over Victoria and making sure she was effectively drunk, sending her into a alcohol induced sleep. There were things to handle downstairs, and while he wanted to stay with her more than anything, he had to get back to them. Quickly, he fetched Mammy and made certain she would not leave the bedside until he was able to come and check on Victoria at dinner time.

Try as he might, Michael was not able to concentrate on his work for the rest of the afternoon. Hed unrolled the wedding dress design Victoria had brought down with her and smiled sadly at it, finally leaving it on top of many of the other papers on his desk so that he could glance at it from time to time. The drawing was beautiful, almost as beautiful as she was and he practically hated himself for looking so forward to their wedding day while she lie upstairs, consumed with nightmares about her now dead husband. It was all for the best, but it was not the way he had wanted her to find out. That messenger would be lucky to live another day, that much was for certain. Michael had already processed the paperwork to have him transferred to the most miserable unit in the entire Union Army, but that wasnt nearly enough punishment for what the wretched little slob had done.

Victoria was somewhat recovered after the next two days and Michael had an idea that he hoped would bring her out of it completely. He went to her room and knocked on the door. "My little dove, let me in please." He called out.

She came to the door and smiled up at him. Her tears had stopped some time in the middle of last night, and now things were beginning to settle for her. She hadnt felt like much kissing the last few days, but at this point, she really needed one and reached her arms up to put around his neck.

Sensing what she wanted, he bent down, and waited for her embrace then kissed her with passionate need. Hed been worried about her and now she seemed to be recovering, which was always good. When they broke away, he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out two plain golden rings, a large one and a tiny one. She looked into his hand then up at him. He closed her doors and said, "I want you to do something for me. I hope this will be as pleasing to you as it is to myself."

"Id do anything for you, Michael. I love you." She responded softly.

He sat in the chair by the fireplace and took her into his lap, having put the rings back in his pocket, "I love you too, my most delicate little dove. What I propose is that we get the company chaplain to marry us yet this day. When we return to Kentucky, we can have our extravagant wedding at that time. I need you and I want to be married to you as soon as possible. There is no reason to wait and I think it would be a great source of comfort to the both of us. Please say yes."

She nodded her head and he gave her another deep kiss then went to find Mammy and the chaplain. Mammy had found Mrs. MacNamaras wedding dress which Victoria wore for the service. It was beautiful on her, but she took it off as soon as it was over, feeling strange that she would be wearing Peters mothers dress to wed another man.

That evening, Michael and Victoria shared a bed for the first time, staying awake all night and giving each other all the love they could possibly fit into the small number of hours available to them. It seemed that their lovemaking was even more intoxicatingly perfect than their kissing. The two of them could not have been more wonderfully suited to each other and when it came time for Michael to retreat to the library in the morning, he found it extremely difficult to try and leave her.

They were still fighting the fact that the day had started, entangled in the sheets when there was a knock at the door. Michael turned instantly red with anger and threw on a nightshirt to go to the doors and personally demolish who ever it was that dared disturb them. Victoria pulled the bed covers up around her neck and watched with wide eyes as he flung the doors open.

"What?" He snarled at the lieutenant standing on the other side, "This had better be a life or death situation, and even if it is, Im not sure I wont break you in half."

"General Sheridan . sir" The man started, "Im sorry to bother you, but you should come quick. We captured a Rebel officer outside on the grounds."

Michael began to get more angry and clenched his fists, "Do you really think I would care about that? Hold him until someone can escort him to a prison." He gritted his teeth and Victoria wondered if hed explode.

"Youll care about this one, sir." The lieutenant shuffled his feet and looked at the ground, "Id rather not say why in front of your wife."

Michael looked the man up and down. Whoever this was downstairs, they were obviously pretty high in the Rebel command, someone very dangerous, or both. He sighed and slammed the doors in his mans face, shouting that hed be right down.

"Im sorry, Mrs. Sheridan." Michael said softly, coming back to the bed and placing longing kisses on her lips. "I will be back as soon as possible to escort you to breakfast. I love you."

"I love you too, Michael." She responded, also getting up to get dressed. For some reason, something about what the lieutenant said sparked her interest and she was going to check it out, her impish streak taking over. Maybe it was somebody great and famous like General Lee.

When he was dressed, Michael took her in his arms dramatically and dipped her back, giving her the longest kiss theyd shared yet. Like all of their kisses, it was full of want, need and deep running love and passion. He reminded her again that hed be back as soon as was humanly possible and left the room.

Mammy had come in, having seen Michael descend the stairs and finished helping Victoria into her clothing. When Mammy had gone, Victoria snuck out quietly, walking on tiptoe to the landing so that she could go downstairs, herself.

She immediately heard shouting and running footsteps then ran down the massive staircase as her curiosity had gotten the better of her. When she reached the bottom, she first saw Michael, a scowling look of fury on his features, then she followed his gaze. He was looking down at someone and it must be the important captive theyd come to get him for.

Slowly, her eyes traveled the way Michaels were directed and her gaze landed on Peter. He looked extremely dirty and ragged, but it was him just the same. Several of Michaels men were holding him and he was obviously panicked and despaired. He screamed, "Youre lying! I know my little Angel better than you think and shed never even consider marriage to some filthy, loathsome Yankee!"

Michael had opened his mouth to shout something back at Peter when he was cut short by the thudding noise Victoria made as she fainted to the floor.