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just to avoid the pain of another spanking.
    She was going to have to get away from him. Somehow. She didn’t know how she was going to do it yet, but she would keep her eyes and her ears open for any reasonable opportunity.
    In the mean time, she would stay as strong as she could and resist him as completely as she could without risking her own health, and without feeling guilty when she couldn’t. After all, he was more than twice her size. There was only so much she could do.
    She wasn’t running, Wolf’s still somewhat sleepy mind noted, but she also wasn’t coming over to him as she knew she should. He sighed heavily, lumbering towards her with much less grace than he usually owned, cold and tired and just wanting to crawl back into the warm bed.
    Hannah reacted purely by instinct and shied away from him. Not running, not screaming, not even holding up her small hand against him. She hunkered down, away from him, folding in on herself, and presenting a smaller target, keeping her eyes firmly on the glowing embers of the fire.
    Wolf stopped in his tracks, his heart clenching tightly within his chest. He didn’t like the fact that she was, in effect, cowering from him. Perhaps he had pushed her a little too far. But he didn’t want to deal with it right now. He was already half asleep again, just from the warmth of the cabin. He continued towards her, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her back to their bed, tucking her in for the second time between the wall and his own bulk, which was at least as unyielding as the wall.
    His left arm fell around her waist naturally as he settled his head near her ear and ordered gruffly, “Sleep.”
    And, surprisingly, she did.
    ***
    Having gotten to sleep so late, Hannah understandably overslept the next morning. When she awoke and stretched, she regretted the movement immediately, since her bottom was apparently still aflame from last night. She was both gratified and surprised to find that she was alone, her purported husband apparently had better things to do, and she was immensely grateful for that fact.
    She rose quickly and went about a seriously abbreviated version of her usual morning routine, getting washed and dressed and buttering a slice of bread to eat on the way to Mrs. Wentworth’s. She yanked the cabin door open, prepared to trot as quickly as she could to work, only to find a painfully young Redcoat standing directly in her way, looking as surprised as she felt.
    Belatedly, he brandished his rifle at an angle across his body, saying in what he must have hoped was an authoritative tone but what just ended up cracking boyishly at the end, “Halt!”
    Nonetheless, he had a gun in his hands, and Hannah respected that, if nothing else. For a long moment, they had a stand off, then Hannah smiled broadly, and said in her softest, most feminine tone, “I was just going to work.” She wasn’t at all above using what few feminine wiles she owned to get her way, although she knew she wasn’t that pretty so she didn’t rely on them very often.
    “His lordship, the Colonel, said that I was to watch and make sure that you don’t escape.”
    The boy’s Cockney accent sounded hard on her ears after so long with the softer, colonial lilt. Still smiling, she moved slowly towards him, saying, “Well, I have no intention of escaping whatsoever. I just want to work. I work at Mistress Wentworth’s, as a seamstress.” She tied a frayed bonnet over the hair she’d hastily piled on top of her head, still smiling sweetly up at him. “You wouldn’t want me to lose my job, would you, Corporal - ” she left his name hanging.
    “W- wilkins, Ma’am,” he fumbled nervously, bowing slightly and tipping his hat.
    Hannah looped her arm boldly with his, gently guiding him along on her route to work, chatting him up flirtatiously so that he barely noticed the trip. When they’d arrived, she turned to him and said, “I’m here until six thirty this evening, Corporal .