So I removed all mention of Abigail having alcohol since it seemed to really upset someone, but I stand by the historical probability that she would have acted in such a way. But in this forum, I guess it is not really all that important to the plot. I would ask my readers though to remember the time periods I write in and that their understanding of what is right or heathy or their moral codes ect., are not ours. You can't judge them based on our societal norms.

It is one of my biggest pet peeves.

Thank you.

Chapter Fifty Two:

She was concerned that it was shallow of her, the happiness she felt in that moment. When she married Braxton, the first time, and it was known only by a fair few people, she was filled with bliss and warmth, excitement, happiness, every good emotion a person could feel, but somehow this was different. To be pronounced man and wife in front of everyone they knew, rich people who mattered, and to see such a handsome smile on his face, sent tingles down her spine and a feeling so powerful rush through her that tears came to her eyes. It felt final, real, complete. Everyone knew, they spoke their vows before more than just God and themselves. She was filled with completeness.

The first tear fell, dribbling down her right cheek and she brushed it away, turning her face from those watching on. Braxton's eyes softened and he murmured to her softly, voice somehow reaching her ear over the reverend's booming voice. The soft I love you brought another tear from her left eye and she sniffled, giggling at him. His smile widened and he gently squeezed her hand. She glanced over toward George and Charlotte and smiled at them. They were behaving much better than she had believed they would. Charlotte looked like she was watching a prince and princess get married before her very eyes and George's happiness had him rocking back and forth in his seat, but quiet.

When he had been told that she and Mr. Braxton were getting married his now six year old brain could not really fathom husband and wife, without likening it to mommy and daddy. She had explained to him the best she could that she was not his mother and that Braxton was not his real father, but he struggled to understand. He asked, after her long and gentle explanation, if that meant he could call her mama now. She sighed, told him Abby was just fine, and he jumped up and down, running to the household, previously informed, that he had a mamma and papa again. Luckily, she did not have to tell him not to call her mama, for the next time they spoke, he called her Abby.

She looked back to Braxton as the Reverend finished his final words. When they were pronounced man and wife she could have fallen down. She might have if there were not so many eyes on her. She smiled, and reached for the pen the reverend handed her. She pretended to sign in the same spot of the log book they had previously signed. Braxton gave her a knowing, amused smile, and accepted the pen from her. He did the same and just like that, they were married…. Again.

"Now the world knows," he murmured to her. She heard the reverend, but did not listen, and simply gazed up at Braxton. "We are lucky in a way, after all this. We shall have two wedding nights."

She heard the applause and they walked down the aisle arm in arm. She squeezed his arm with hers, smiling up at him as they moved toward the end of the church.

"This is the third happiest day of my life," she told him

and he frowned, turning his head to look at her.


"Yes," she said. "Today is the third, the second, our first wedding, and the first… the day you let us in."

He smiled at her.

"Yes… I suppose that was when it all began," he replied and they stepped outside. People were following them and she paused when she felt a hand on her shoulder and an arm wrapped around Braxton's shoulders.

"If you both would be so kind," Mr. James Ashcroft said, a smile on his face. "Might you join myself and your wedding guests at my home. I have planned a small party of celebration."

"Good lord, I said no party," Braxton scolded but Ashcroft's laugh and smile brought one from Abigail. He, being probably the most wealthy, the best educated, and the most elitist, had been the warmest and most welcoming of anyone.

"Will there be champagne there, Mr. Ashcroft?" she asked.

"A celebration without Champagne?" he looked offended. She looked to Braxton who looked less than enthused.

"Do you wish to?" he asked.

"A little," she answered and he nodded.

"Very well, Ashcroft."

"Wonderful!" he cried and turned to those leaving the church. "A celebration shall commence!"

She giggled as everyone cheered and Braxton looked as if he was hardly holding back a groan.

They ended up leaving the Ashcrofts a little after one in the morning. As they climbed into the carriage Abigail scooted in close and leaned into Braxton, pressing her face to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and the carriage began to move on, both quiet.

"We could have stayed," she told him, pressing her chin to the chest so she could look at him. "Ashcroft kept offering."

"I wanted to wake in my own bed," he answered. "And you are in my debt now."

"How?" she asked, sitting up slightly. It was not nearly as grand as the ball had been and everyone had been able to sit at a single table to play cards.

"Because I had wanted to spend the night in bed with you. Now I will simply have to spend all day tomorrow in bed with you," he answered and she smiled.

"Anything for you," she murmured and reached up to touch his cheek.

"Hmmm…." He murmured and she giggled when a hand moved to her breast. He brought a finger to curved his lips.


His fingers prodded gently at her breasts and his other hand went to grab the fabric of her dress.

"Thomas," she breathed and his mouth found hers.

"We need to be quiet," he breathed and she nodded. It happened fast, her brain hazy, but her pleasure was so great she had to bite down hard on her bottom lip, drawing blood. When she finally came down from the high she was straddling his lap, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and he was placing soft kisses to her chest.

"I love you more than life," Braxton whispered, pressing his face to the swell of her breasts. She gently played with the hair at the back of his neck, kissing the top of his head.

"I love you more than anything," she answered. He looked up at her. It was difficult to see him in the darkness and their faces were close. They were both completely content to simply look into each other's eyes.

"Abigail," he said as she snuggled into his side. They had been in bed nearly all day, as he had promised, and had just picked up the newspaper to read while Abigail recovered. "Abigail."

She moaned in protest and pressed her face into his side. His frown deepened.

"Abigail," he said sharply and she looked up, a frown on her own face now.

"What?" she asked. He held the newspaper out to her and she examined it a moment.

"There will be a war," she said softly, shaking her head. "I'm sure of it now."

"We might avoid war yet," he cautioned.

"This isn't a soldier firing into an angry mob," she said, sitting up. She pulled the blanket up to cover her breasts as she sat up. "This was organized… purposeful. An American army fighting an English one –"

"There is no American army," he cut her off. "There is a group of rebels, nothing more."

"Not to people like you," she agreed. "To people like me, it is an American army."

His jaw clenched and he fought down his impulse to grow angry with her.

"Well your army will not last long. They were driven from the hill," he pointed out. Abigail smiled softly and leaned in to kiss him.

"I wonder what really happened," she said and he frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"This paper will only say what the Crown wants you to hear," she replied. "I will ask Hannigen the next time I see him."

He said nothing but looked at the paper, not really reading the words as he examined them.

"What's wrong?" she asked and he sighed.

"Mrs. Braxton cannot be seen frequenting a rebel newspaper," he told her as gently as he could.

"Then I won't be seen," she answered simply. "Thomas, I will do what I must to maintain appearances. I understand how important it is. I really do. And I want to make you happy, and I want you to be proud of me. Nothing would horrify me more than knowing I embarrassed you. In return I am asking you not to tell me I have to stop."

She looked at him and he looked back wordlessly, heart pounding. He was quite certain, in the months to come this conversation will be the basis for resolving many many fights they were to have.

"I can support you expressing your opinion," he said carefully. "and I will… but… if you plan to… I need you to promise me that you will not take any actions that constitute treason."

"I can't," she answered. He looked at her, wanting to demand it out of her right now, force her to vow to him right now she wouldn't, but he remained silent.

"You were angry with me that I was not more excited about your contracts," she pointed out. "It is difficult for me too."

"But I do not plan on breaking the law. On…" he tried to keep him frustration and anger under control, to honestly try and understand where she was coming from. It was a difficult struggle.

"If I might? I think we should handle each situation as it comes," she offered. "Trying to lay out ground rules… it doesn't seem right to me. You don't even think there is going to be a war."

"I said we can still avoid it. I did not say I did not think it might happen."

"I will promise you this. I will never stop loving you. And nothing will ever change that. And I promise that when we fight and we will, and I say things that are mean and even hateful, that I don't mean it. I promise that at the end of every night, I will be in bed with you, and even if we don't speak, or touch, or anything, I'll kiss you on the cheek and tell you I love you."

"Promise?" he asked she nodded.

"I promise."

"Then… I promise too."

Here it is! Thank you very much for all the love and support! Let me know what you think! I'm not good at ending stories, so I might come back to this and touch it up, change it a bit. I wanted it slightly open ended, a half resolution kind of. Hopefully I did that well enough.

The reason I ended it as I did, is even though I believe that the sequel will focus on Elijah (no promises), Braxton and Abigail's married life will be a huge part of it, and I want to leave that for then.

The first new chapter of A Woman's Weapon is up. I took it back a bit, so that I can develop the relationship a little between Jane and Reynolds before I dive into it. Check it out and let me know what you think!

Thanks again!