Dear Diary,

I have become a scandal, it seems. Though they swear their fealty, I can see it in their eyes. My servants, the people of my estate, are scandalised and disgusted by me. Every time I walk past, I can feel it in their gazes. The men are revolted because they must obey a woman, and the women are revolted because the gentle lady they have made it their pride to serve, dares to order the men about and see to the affairs that should be left to the men.

I have grown tired of despair and weeping. I have grown tired of pacing, day by day, on the balcony over-looking the road that my love will have to pass to return to me. I have become weary of worrying about what I should be doing. I have decided to take action. The estate needs much work, and the workers are not willing to do it. So I dress in men's clothing, and I dare to use their tools and attempt to do it myself.

I dishonour them, but frankly, I care not. Someone needs to do something around here, otherwise winter will surely see us all cold and starving. The fields have fallen to ruin, and the supply of wood is sorely under-stocked. The fever has passed, and while few remain weakened, most are well and should be continuing their duties as normal. But they will not obey me. Because I am not a man. Their stubborn stupidity is frustrating, especially when they do not realise the grave condition we are in. If we cannot produce enough from my land to support us through the winter, there will be no purchasing of anything in town. Most of my inheritance has been used to pay taxes, used to fund the war that keeps Andrew from me. 'Tis bittersweet, now isn't it?

Robert, darling brother of my heart, has been a great help these days. He is my strength, it seems. He also helps to enforce my rule over my sullen help. The hypocritical attitude that seems to possess them all is so astounding. They swear that they would serve their lady to the death, but when she asks the slightest thing of them, she is not worthy of being obeyed. I just hope that things will improve.

Katherine

* * * *

"Carter, don't you dare tell anyone. I swear I will kill you if you do. Or better yet, I'll never speak to you again," Cairo threatened.

"And that's a bad thing?" he asked with a grin.

"Ni-ick! You know how much I hate to define my mortality in years and admit I'm growing older, so don't you dare," she warned.

"What, is it your birthday or something?" AJ asked, watching the scene with amusement.

"NO!" Cairo protested, swinging around to glare at him. Behind her back, Nick mouthed the word "yes".

"Carter, don't you dare think that I don't know what you're doing right now," she warned him.

"What?" he asked, innocently.

"So, how are we going to celebrate this?" Kevin asked.

"There's nothing to celebrate!" Cairo protested. They all ignored her.

"We could visit the pub in town. Check out the local night life," Howie suggested.

"We could, but what would be the point? We could just as easily get drunk here," Cairo said.

"But we can't do that for your birthday," AJ said.

"It's not my birthday!" she said, feeling like tearing her hair out in frustration.

"Sounds like a plan," Nick decided. Cairo glared at him, turned on her heel, and stomped into her library, slamming the door shut behind her. She counted to three and turned to see Nick in the study, just as she expected.

"Kay, do you realise that you are the hardest girl to be with? And I'm talking in the entire world. You don't let me buy you things, you don't let me do sweet things, you don't let me celebrate our anniversaries, you don't expect flowers when I've messed up. And you won't let me celebrate your birthday. You gotta let me something, otherwise I'll have four guys on my case, telling me that I don't treat you right! So like it or not, Miss Cairo Williams, you are going to let me celebrate your birthday," he said.

"It's my party, and I can deny it if I want to!" she said, smiling a little.

"What don't you like about birthdays?" he asked, sitting down beside her, gathering her into his arms.

"It's being in this house, Nick. Grandmother-dearest and I didn't exactly have the greatest relationship and everything here reminds me of her, despite the fact that the charming décor doesn't reflect her personality. She came to visit us every single year, always around my birthday. She'd bring cards and gifts for my wonderful siblings, even give all that shit to them on my birthday, but she wouldn't even wish me a 'Happy Birthday'. So, after awhile, I just stopped caring," she said, leaning her head against his chest. Ever since she had decided to speak to him after the incident with the horse, he had been clinging and over-concerned with her. She was enjoying the attention, figuring that she would save up all the affection she could, because sooner or later, he'd be back on the road again.

"Well, baby, you are going to have a great birthday today," Nick promised.

"Then get out of here so I can get some work done before we go out tonight," she said, pushing him off the couch.