My disclaimer
i dont own the patriot or any character ever associated with the film. Sophie is my creation intirely!
A farmhouse in the middle of south Carolina. The Jameson family is safely wrapped away in their own little world. this is a lead in to the chapters with Tavington, be patient hes coming! x
It was another breezy February day as Sophie watched, arms folded, as her father vainly tried to stay atop a rather enraged looking chestnut stallion. "There's life in the old boot yet!" he bellowed to the spectators. "Is he talking about himself or the horse?" whispered James. "Stop" she shushed but giggled none the less. "He'll have to go" sighed Mrs. Jameson, Sophie's mother. "Is she talking about theā¦." "Over my dead body!" interrupted Mr. Jameson.
Never one to admit defeat he was truly in the belief that he could some how manage to finally tame the appropriately named "Fire ball". After three years of failure Mrs. Jameson was adamant he would have to go. She had had enough of the drama and the straw that broke the camels back was Mrs. New Bridge being chased around the garden after the beast broke down the stable door and took an instant attraction to the ladies expensive wig.
"You have such a defeatist attitude, why all this beast needs is firm handling and" but the sentence was never finished as the horse stuck his head between his knees and lifted his rear skyward. Mr. Jameson went sailing over the animals head and landed in a heap some feet away. "Mr. Jameson!" shrieked his wife. Servants and family members alike scrambled over the fence and rushed to his side. "I'm alright woman! Stop fussing!" was the confirmation that he was still breathing.
"My nerves" whispered Mrs. Jameson fanning herself with her hand. "Buck up mother it could have been worse" said James playfully and Mrs. Jameson rounded on him. "Worse! Worse! What if he had been killed! I would be widowed, you and your sister fatherless, only the Lord would know what would become of us!"
"Well, I'm sure some how I could manage the place, we could marry Sophie off to some rich Lord and you could sit contently by the fire and go on at the servants about your poor nerves" "Don't patronize me you cheeky boy!" "I'm only saying!" "You're not too old for a boxed ear!"
"Oh shut up!" roared Mr. Jameson stomping back to the house. "The torture I must endure" screeched his wife, hitching up her skirts and striding head held high, back to her room. "Over reacts to everything" sighed James with a shake of his head, who went back to the stables followed by the grooms and the infamous "Fireball".
All that was left was Sophie and Mary, one of the maids. "Quite a bit of excitement wouldn't you say" said Mary. "we need some living here" sighed Sophie, "ah it aint that bad is it Miss" "I suppose not" " and maybe you will find some handsome young Lord like young Mr. Jameson said, and you could have a huge house and hundreds of dresses and not a care in the world!" "I'd get bored" "I worry about you sometimes Miss Sophie, what else could you possibly need!"
"Oh Mary, would you not want to go to far horizons, meet jungle tribes, see tigers and elephants, swash buckling pirates, Indian warriors and have fantastic adventures?!" Mary laughed, "I'm happy here, less likely to lose my head or be eaten by something or some one!" and with that she went back to the house. Sophie watched her go and then collapsed into the grass. Making daisy chains she wondered what else there was out there. She devoured books daily, trying to understand what she was missing out there. Only 19 years of age, she had spent most of her life on the farm, occasionally visiting London and visiting her neighbours weekly. Her mother was an avid socialite and to her it was inconceivable the idea of missing and engagement.
Sophie on the other hand was the complete opposite, she preferred talking to the servants about their travels or galloping around the property with her dogs. Mrs. Jameson would occasionally remark that she had two sons, as her daughter was the most unladylike of any young lady she had never known. Climbing trees, playing in the mud with the dogs, going off on a horse, exploring the forests were only a few of the heart aches Mrs. Jameson was forced to endure by her "unconventional daughter"
Not to say that Sophie didn't have her merits, her mother was just unconcerned with them. She was witty, clever, strong willed, sweet natured, compassionate and loyal to the last. The one attribute that Mrs. Jameson was overjoyed with was Sophie's natural beauty. The girl had been blessed with glossy thick deep brown hair, big brown eyes, a flawless complexion although it was some times streaked with mud and what Mrs. Jameson deemed as a "perfect nose".
At balls Mrs. Jameson would regale the other mothers, whether they liked it or not, tales of how Sophie was a beautiful baby and how she just knew she would grow up to be so stunning. This was of no benefit to her daughter who was shunned by all female company. Sophie had been ostracized because of the actions of her own mother not that she ever blamed her, it would have been a lost cause.
Watching a ladybird scamper up the side of her dress, Sophie's head was turned by the sound of hooves galloping up the drive way. A man atop a bay horse thundered through the trees causing Mrs. Jameson to reappear from the house.
Sophie watched him dismount quickly and rush to her mother, they conversed and Mrs. Jameson released a cry which brought her husband and son to her side. Sophie watched the expressions of her father and mother as she began to walk to wards them. What could it be she pondered. Hitching up her skirts she raced over as the mysterious rider mounted his tired horse and left as quickly as he had come.
"What is it father" cried Sophie looking at the pale expression of her mother. "The British are coming this way" said her father solemnly. Mrs. Jameson collapsed to the floor as the sounds of gunfire echoed from the distance.
