Revolutionary War Roleplay! [CLOSED]

"Fair enough. We're fine, Simcoe." Chadine spoke curtly to the soldier. He harrumphed in acquiescence.

"Go. Please," Jane urged. "Don't fuss over me."

Chadine stood up, "Ms. Jane, I hate to be like this, but you're being absolutely insufferable," she kept her voice quiet. "If you keep on like this, you're gonna hurt yourself and the baby. Or Simcoe will,"

She shivered slightly at the thought and gently caressed her stomach. "I understand. But I don't want you to get sick either. Now rest."

Her jaw tightened, and she left the room with a body tense in stifled frustration.

Jane's eyes closed once Chadine left.

John had told her in his last letter– in two weeks he would be home. Just fourteen more days..

John's soon return was the only thing that kept her going. "Oh John…" she murmured aloud.

Two weeks closer to giving birth.

Jane felt little Roo kick. Joy sparked inside of her.

She heard feet shuffle outside her door. Chadine had shut it behind her; was she back again?

Her eyes opened and looked at the door. "Chadine, I told you to rest."

"She is," Simcoe answered through the door. He turned the knob and opened it. "I made sure."

Jane's eyes widened. "Where is Chadine?"

"Asleep." He replied curtly, entering the room and shutting the door behind himself.

She coughed quietly. "Did you hurt her?"

"Why would I do that?" He replied with a cold smile. He wandered to her bedside.

"Did you?" she asked again, trying to hide her fear.

He didn't answer her, and left her question open to any answer her imaginaton dared to propose. He sat on the bed by her feet. "How is…your baby, Ms. Jane?"

"Fine," she whispered faintly. Another cough followed her answer.

"Surely not, when his mother is sick." He spoke, eyeing her. "Surely."

Roo kicked again. Jane's smile was hampered by the burning sense of danger from this seemingly quiet man.

Simcoe stared long and hard at Jane, absolutely silent.

"He's doing fine for the circumstances," she eventually replied.

"I visited a tavern on the night before I returned home," Simcoe spoke forbodingly, "I heard some.. rumors."

"Oh?" she asked quietly.

"About your husband." He smiled cruelly.

Her eyes narrowed. "And what would that be?"

"That he experienced a bit of a passionate night with an unmarried woman, drowned senselessly in his glass of hard alcohol," Simcoe replied.

Jane's heart stopped. "What?" she asked in the faintest whisper possible.