This chapter spans a long period of time, about a month. So much happens here. But after this chapter, the other chapters will be a lot better. FINALLY, the story truly begins now.

Sorry it took so long to update. Also, if you're still reading and enjoying, please review. There's been less and less reviews with each chapter so if you're still here, thank you, but how about writing a quick review? That'd be nice.

Thanks to takethecurve, eliclarecammaya, Xlovestory33X, ForverInYourArms, alicia4568, DegrassiLover2010, legitdegrassi, The Sunshine ray, and Littlemissartsi for reviewing the last chapter. :)

Thanks for reading and please review.

After Clare's long bout of sickness, she finally regained her strength, slowly but surely, over the course of a month and a half.

The doctor diagnosed her with the measles, causing her to break out into a rash all over her body and a significant spike in her temperature. Having been bedridden for a long time and seeing no one other than a doctor and her mother, both of whom only spent a minute or so at a time with her, Clare was feeling extremely lonely.

With her sickness and loneliness, there was a scary moment during the month and a half when Clare had no more fight in her. The redness had taken over her entire body, causing likely permanent scarring of her skin, and there were days when she slept more than she was awake. So her mind was telling her to remain asleep.

One night during the worse of her sickness, she listened to her door opening and someone moving towards her. A cool hand felt good against her forehead and she managed to wake.

"I have something for you," the soft voice said. "I've been given a letter to read to you. I hope you do not mind."

Clare slowly shook her head. Jake's face became visible when he lit a candle and laid it on her bed side table.

"Dearest Clare," Jake began to read. "If you are currently reading this letter then Jake has successfully done his task."

A genuine laugh came from Clare. A quiet one but still, she smiled. "While I journeyed back to our tree I was caught by your step-brother who promptly informed me that you have been bedridden with a sickness. Jake fully described to me your symptoms. I wish to be with you during this time to encourage you to stay well, to hold your hand, to accompany you in your time of sickness, but I was told that aside from a doctor and your mother, no one is to enter your room."

From her half opened eyes, Clare saw Jake smile. "Your strength is no match for this sickness. You will be well soon, I know it. You will journey back to our special place where I will be waiting for you every day until you are well enough to join me."

With every single word, Clare felt more energy running through her. Her mind began to change its course.

"I think you should read the next parts yourself," Jake suggested. "Are you well enough to?"

Clare nodded her head. Jake moved the candle so Clare could clearly read the letter. Craning her neck slightly, she read Eli's beautiful words. "My heart is ever at your service."

Jake folded the letter and placed in on the table. "I agree with him. You will be well soon. So please, do not give into your sickness. Don't give up for me, my father, your mother, and…for Eli."

Jake placed his cool hand against Clare's hair, brushing it away from her face. "I need you here. Selfishly, I need you here. Who will offer me advice when I propose to Katie? Who will make me laugh across the table at dinner?"

"I will be strong," Clare promised. She could feel herself being pulled back into a long, deep sleep. But she stayed away long enough to hear Jake's parting words.

"I wished for you to find love as I have found mine," he said in a whisper. "And you have, that is clear. So do not give up."

"But mother," Clare managed to reply.

"She married for love, why should you be prevented from doing the same?"

Those were the last words Clare heard before she fell back asleep. The day after her secret talk with Jake, Clare's temperature was notably lower and she was able to sit up and eat small bites of food. After three weeks Clare was well enough to stand and walk around her room again where she spent a considerable time staring out her window towards the direction of the lake. She wrote Eli a return letter which she convinced her maid to give to Jake, who would know what to do.

By mid February the doctor gave her the permission to finally exit her room, after regaining her health. While she was no longer bedridden with fever, her body was still tired from having stayed in her bed for a long time. Also when she saw her skin again in the mirror, permanently scarred and red from the measles, she wanted to cry. Her skin had always been soft and unmarked. Now her skin was rough and running with faint red lines and spots.

But Clare reminded herself that the scars upon her body were nothing compared to the worse that may have happened.

More than a month after Clare was healthy enough to walk again, Clare found her mother in the midst of chaos in her home. There were flowers placed everywhere, many of the furniture of the main sitting area were gone, and the ballroom was being decorated.

She approached her mother and waited for her to finish her conversation with a man in a suit.

"We will need extra help for serving and such," Helen was telling the man. "Also for set up and clean up after the party. How many you see fit will be fine."

The man finished off with his notes and bowed toward Helen and Clare. "Oh Clare, why are you wearing only your stockings?" Helen exclaimed upon seeing her daughter. "You look like our help!"

"I've been ill, mother," Clare replied. "I have no energy to put on my corset and have a heavy dress surrounding me."

Helen was ready to reply but she sighed. "That's quite alright," she said in defeat. "But you will wear a beautiful dress for your party."

"Yes mother," Clare promised. Her birthday had passed already, with having been ill and sleeping her birthday away. But her mother was not about to let a day of celebration go to waste and she postponed the party until Clare was healthy enough to host one.

As her mother walked away, Clare grimaced as she thought about being constricted by a corset and the rough, expensive fabric of the dress grazing against her skin. But walking past all of the changes her mother made to the house for the big birthday celebration, she knew she could not let her mother down.

As she approached her bedroom she called upon her maid Beth and asked her to help put on her corset and dress. Clare ordered Becky to be gentle and to stop whenever asked. Before the corset was even around her torso, Clare was prepared to quit. The stiff corset was rough against her arms as Beth tried to slip it above her head.

It took Clare an hour to put on her corset and dress, neither of which were put on as tight as usual. She looked at herself in the mirror, tears welling up in her eyes at the sight of the unfamiliar body in the expensive dress. Her sickness had taken away her energy, the beauty of her skin, and her confidence.

"What is wrong, Miss Clare?" Beth asked.

"I cannot even put on a dress," Clare said through slight sobs. "My skin hurts too much for this itchy fabric, my stomach cannot handle being constricted, and look at all of these scars. My mother hardly believed I was beautiful like Darcy before. Her reaction to seeing my scarred skin will be horrible."

Beth stepped closer to her. "There is a salve you may apply to your skin to lessen the pain and the redness. And you have always been beautiful Miss Clare. Not a day has passed when I have not admired your beauty."

Clare wiped away her tears and said, "Beth, I had a feeling that you would respond in that manner."

"It does not make my words any less true," Beth replied. "Shall I find the salve?"

Clare nodded and as quickly as possible, took off her dress and corset and dressed in her more comfortable undergarments that covered her entire body. She stayed in her room for the remaining days until her birthday, claiming that she needed to rest for her big day. But she really just wanted to prevent more people from seeing her new appearance.

When the big day arrived, Clare was awoken very early in the morning at her mother's urging. Guests were to arrive at noon but her mother knew how long her daughter would get dressed and prepared for the long party ahead of her. So even before the sun rose, Beth was helping Clare bathe, wash her hair, apply salve all over her body, and then carefully and slowly into her expensive, new party dress.

As Beth had told her, the salve had done wonders for her irritated and red skin. But it surely wasn't helping with the corset which now felt even tighter than before her sickness. Also, because her mother bought her new dress during her trip away during November, it was heavy fabric and had even more layers than Clare was used to. By the time she finished getting dressed it was already a quarter to ten.

A while after noon, Clare was finally all prepared to head downstairs to meet her guests. Beth aided her down the stairs and by the time she reached the bottom of the large staircase, she was already winded.

"Oh my mother will be angry," Clare whispered to Beth. "It seems that everyone has arrived."

Many voices were trailing from the ballroom, along with Helen's distinct laughter, making Clare even more nervous than she was before. Once she got to the ballroom doorway, Beth stepped away from her slowly and gave her an encouraging smile.

Clare entered the ballroom inconspicuously as she watched the ballroom full of talkative and dancing guests. She didn't recognize any of them until spotting Katie Matlin and her younger sister speaking to her step brother. Clare attempted to make her way to Katie, Jake, and Maya without catching her mother's attention but failed as she started to be pulled to a backdoor of the ballroom.

"Young lady, where have you been?" Helen scolded Clare. "You are late to your own celebration."

"I was getting ready, mother," Clare answered calmly. She took in the appearance of her mother; pale face, rouged lips, and hair so fluffed that any object could get stuck in there and she wouldn't notice.

"Everyone has been waiting for you," Helen continued, disregarding Clare's answer. "There have been many eligible men asking if they may dance with you and of course I accepted. Oh so many of them would like to dance with you, you'll be dancing all day!"

Just the thought of even spinning around once made Clare's head hurt. "Mother, must I…"

"Yes Clare and you'll do so now," Helen said sternly. "We've had to postpone this party for months—"

"Because I was ill—"

"And you will not ruin it now simply because you don't want to," Helen pointedly said. "Now I will go introduce you to the first man to ask me for a dance with you and you will be polite and smile to this man. You will not speak, you will listen to him. And you will only spend a minute with him. Is that clear?"

Clare was in no mood to follow her mother's instructions. The dress was already making her too warm and the salve was no longer working and she longed to itch under her dress. Additionally, her mother was more harsh to her now than she had been before she'd been ill.

"Shall I give away my brain since I do not need it to talk to these men you've lined up for me?" Clare couldn't help but reply rudely.

"Clare Diana, you will—" Helen's hand raised close to Clare's cheek, causing Clare to flinch out of reflex, but the sound of an opening door caused both mother and daughter to freeze.

"What is going on here?" Glen demanded, taking a hold of Helen's arm and roughly pulling her away from Clare. "Were you about to hit our daughter?"

"No," Helen said in fear. "No!"

Turning his head away from his wife, Glen turned to Clare and softly said, "Clare, go ahead and attend your party. Find your friends. We will see you in there."

Clare nodded and quickly walked back into the party and darted toward Jake. Upon finding her step brother she grasped his arm and stood behind him, trying to catch her breath.

"Clare." Jake made no move to push Clare away but simply talked to her over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Clare's nervous voice came out and said. Clearing her throat slightly, she continued. "Yes. Mother's just making me dance with so many. I can hardly breathe as of right now."

"The party is an all day affair, I'm sure your suitors can wait as you catch your breath," Jake assured her. "Are you still feeling poorly?"

"I'm quite alright but nowhere near enough to dance with men I don't know. But mother is right. She's had to postpone for months, I can't refuse."

Jake turned around to face her and led her away from oncoming men waiting to speak with her. "Clare, that doesn't even make any sort of sense. Enjoy yourself," Jake urged her. "You haven't seen more than your bedroom and the scenery outside your windows. If a man wishes to dance with you, you choose if you would like to dance with them. There's only little time in this world and you should live it as you please."

Thought the speech was supposed to be encouraging Clare couldn't help but notice the seriousness in Jake's eyes. She could sense that Jake was no longer thinking about her having to dance with so many people; this was more than that.

"Jake, what do you really mean to say?" Clare tried to ask before Jake stepped away from her. She watched him weave his way into the large crowd and reach Katie, taking Katie's arms and whisking her onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for an unknown young man to approach Clare and after seeing her mother enter the ballroom again, Clare decided to agree to a brief dance. The song being played by the band was fast though and Clare stumbled trying to follow the boy's lead. The boy was courteous though, asking her questions of her party and her sickness, offering words of relief for her recovery. Once the dance was over, Clare asked for his name again. A blush appeared for on his cheeks as he answered with the words Wesley Betenkamp. Curtseying to Mr. Betenkamp, Clare walked away to catch her breath but with a smile on her face.

An older gentleman whose name Clare couldn't remember convinced her to dance a while later. As the man barely made the effort to match their dance to all of the other couples' dance, Clare was grateful for it but then also unsure. The man hadn't said a word; he simply looked over her head but swayed back and forth.

"You are sixteen now, yes?" the man asked her without eye contact.

"Yes," Clare replied.

"And your step-brother Jacob, is he around the same age?"

"Older."

"And how does he feel about war?"

"Opposed," Clare answered surely. "As any person would. What is the meaning of this?"

"Ms. Edwards, I apologize for my rudeness," the man said with a slight bow. "I did not mean to startle or scare. But the talk of war has been stirring for the past months after the cold winter. I had thought that since your step father has been participating in Boston meetings that he would have spoken to your family about the impending war."

"Impending war?" Clare questioned in terror. "I have been bedridden since December and have not heard any news since then."

The man's eyes widened. "Then I apologize for having scared you for no reason. I must be going."

"No," Clare grasped the man's arm and prevented him from leaving. "Please, tell me why you asked about my brother. And please tell me about what has been happening."

"I am sure your family does not wish for you to know—"

"You will tell me now," Clare demanded. "Mr…"

"Cameron," he answered. "Sean Cameron."

"Mr. Cameron. Please," she begged. "Your words will not contain the bias and the lies that my step father's or my mother's words will contain."

"Then we must find a quiet place to speak."

Clare lead the way to the opposite side of the house toward Glen's office. Once inside, Clare started to search for any of the step father's newspapers as Mr. Cameron began to explain.

"I am sure you were aware of the Southern states' threatening of succession months ago before the election. But since then, they have succeeded. Six states has now considered themselves to be separated from the country and I am sure that I do not have to explain the danger of this all," Sean Cameron said in a nervous voice. His eyes kept darting toward the door and it was clear that he was worried that he would be in trouble if he was caught spreading this information.

"They now call themselves the Confederate States and elected their own president, Jefferson Davis. The newspapers have not updated the North of the South's actions for a while but there has been talk that once the war does begin, some northern states will arrange voluntary regiments."

"Regiments?" Clare asked.

"Soldiers," Mr. Cameron clarified. "Some states will take volunteers to fight the war. Massachusetts will be one of them."

Clare stopped moving and looked over to the nervous looking Sean Cameron. He stood rigidly at the center of the office, holding his hat to his torso. "You are looking for volunteers," Clare whispered in shock, figuring out who he was. "You are here to take away young men, young men with futures to look forward to, not a war that they have no business going into."

"Ms. Edwards—"

"Who are you to come onto this property to take away men from their families and homes?" Clare asked on the verge of tears. "These men are good men!"

"Voluntary only," Mr. Cameron said to her. "But you must know this Ms. Edwards. This war is not as you think it is. There will be men in your ballroom, attending your party, who will volunteer for the regiment and head South. You must come to terms with that now before the war officially begins. We are days away and we need to prepare."

"Don't take my brother away," Clare pleaded. "Please."

"I will not take anyone against their will, that I can assure you," Mr. Cameron said. "But many boys have been speaking already of their willingness to defend their country. To protect their families and their homes. I am sure that your brother will want to protect you."

"He can protect me from here," she replied sternly.

"He may," Mr. Cameron nodded. "That is all I can tell you as of now, Ms. Edwards. If you can please keep this conversation between us. Your step father wished for me to conduct my business as quietly as possible."

"He knew? You mean…Glen knows you're here?"

Again, Mr. Cameron nodded. "At our last meeting, all were aware and attending this party and we found it to be a good idea if we conversed with men attending and approached them with the idea. I will tell you again Ms. Edwards. We are not taking men against their will. I understand your distress that we've done this on your day—"

"It's not that," Clare assured him. "It's neither my birthday nor my day."

"Regardless, I hadn't intended to worry anyone and you, especially. But if I may ask a favor of you?"

With a nod from Clare, he continued. "May you please keep this information to yourself. Discuss with your brother and father if you must but no women. A frenzy is the last thing we need."

"Yes, yes, I promise," Clare replied. Mr. Cameron headed for a door and bowed in her direction before exiting the office. Left alone, out of breath, sweating from her dress, and with her heart pounding from the information just told to her, Clare fell roughly onto the couch before falling to sleep.

Once she opened her eyes again she no longer felt her body constricted. She was no longer in the office either as she saw the very familiar walls of her room. Dressed now in sleep clothes and tucked under her soft covers, Clare turned her head and found a barely familiar face sitting in a chair beside her.

The person looked away from the book they were reading, letting Clare see their face and put a name to the face. "Gracie," Clare said. "What are you doing here?"

"Attending your party, as you asked," Gracie smiled. "Though the celebration has been cut short due to your spell. It is the next day."

"What happened?" Clare tried to sit up but felt her head spin at the attempt.

"Your friend Katie and I went looking for you and found you in your step-father's office, your skin very hot. We altered your mother who then promptly ended the party," Gracie explained. "Eli and Jake brought you here where you've slept for ages now. But your skin is no longer warm so I believe it was only a brief sickness."

Clare nodded and sighed. "I've been sick too long."

"But not rested enough it seems," Gracie told her. "The doctor has said that you must not wear corsets or dresses for at least a few weeks nor do any physical exertion. And you must eat."

"Yes," Clare couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I promise I will."

"Good," Gracie laughed. "Now if you excuse me, I must find Eli and ask if he may walk me home. My mother expected my arrival hours ago but I refused to leave without knowing that you are fine."

"I understand," Clare said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Can I ask you a question before you leave?"

"Of course." Gracie sat back in her chair. Clare couldn't help but notice that Gracie wasn't wearing a dress, much like the day in town, but rather, she was wearing a feminine version of a man's suit. The swell of her breasts were noticeable and the waist line of her dark pants were higher than a man's but it was still a man's outfit.

Clare thought to herself that she would have to ask her mother if she may wear an outfit like Gracie's if the doctor said that she should not wear corsets.

"Have you heard about…" Clare heard Mr. Cameron's words at the back of her mind, telling her not to tell women. But as strange as it was, Gracie didn't feel like the usual woman. She was still a woman in body but mentally was much like a man. Much like Eli, Clare thought.

"About what?" Gracie asked.

"The war," Clare whispered carefully, looking to the door quickly.

"Yes," Gracie nodded. "As has everyone. But the women pretend that nothing is happening while the men are whispering behind them. My mother has expressed her personal opinion of the volunteer regiment that has been proposed. My brother Drew has said that he will volunteer and my mother is against it."

"Your brother wishes to volunteer?"

"Yes, as do I, but seeing as I am a girl, I cannot," Gracie told Clare in obvious disappointment. "But Drew wants to volunteer. Eli as well."

Clare's jaw dropped and though not moving her body or head at all, she felt dizzier than ever. The thought of Eli off to the unknown, fighting a battle that he had no business in, the thought was just as bad as thinking of Jake going into the war as well.

"I must go now but I will return soon," Gracie assured her. "Follow the doctor's orders."

Clare was left in deafening silence after Gracie's departure. Her mind filled with thoughts of both Jake and Eli leaving and never returning. She couldn't bear the thought of either of them, both too young, risking their lives for a war that would start by narrow-minded people.

She couldn't allow it. She wouldn't allow it. And she'd make sure they knew how she felt about it. Now Clare had more reason to quickly get better. She had to stop them from making a big and possibly life threatening mistake before it's too late.