I don't own the Patriot

Icy blue eyes secretly scanned through Charlotte's Plantation. People walked and went around with their usual activities as if they didn't suspect that something wicked was coming their way. A brunette resident, in her middle twenties, flipped through the letter that her husband had sent her. He was a militia man and he had gone with Benjamin Martin to fight against the British. She sighed when she read the letter in her hand.

My dearest Jane,

My God! War is not what I had expected it to be. I see blood and death everywhere and everyday that I wake up. Fellow militia men have been brutally slayed in front of my eyes as their bodies collapse on the dead grass. I am well and I hope you are too my dearest.

Your loving husband,

John

Jane slowly put the letter on her table and looked at the words. This was the last letter that she had received from him. She wondered whether he was safe from harm or just dead. If he was dead, she could get herself another man. She thought that she was still young and a young lady like her should find another husband rather than having to suffer to husband's death. She hadn't been that much attracted to John during their relationship. Sure he was romantic, but he wasn't handsome like she had wanted him to be. I don't want personality. I want good looks in a man Jane thought as she placed a hand under her chin and looked out the window.

A loud knocking suddenly made Jane jump. Jane shot up from her chair and stared at the door as if someone was going to burst through it. The knocking sounded brutal, which was something that she hadn't heard while living in this estate. On instinct, she peeked out the window and saw a series of men in red coats escorting the residents of the estate out of their homes. She'd heard about these men from her possibly dead husband's letters. She whipped her head towards the door when she heard the loud knocking once more.

She frantically ran towards her closet and hid there.

On the outside of the house, a British Dragoon stepped away from the door. "Colonel Tavington," the soldier notified him, "no one is in this house."

The proud soldier that was mounted on his horse, turned his cold gaze at him. He sighed at said, "direct every resident into the church. I will be with you shortly," he said as the soldier obeyed and joined the others. The British Dragoon, Colonel William Tavington, jumped off his horse and proceeded to the house.

He approached the house and placed his black gloved hand on the doorknob. He turned the doorknob and he was surprised to find that the door was open. He slowly opened the door and stepped inside. His boots made contact with the wooden floor as the heels tacked against the wood. He had a suspicion that someone was in this house. All he needed to do was just stay quiet and wait until he heard a noise.

"Achoo!" a sneeze came from the closet. Tavington turned his head to the closet as a smile made its way to his lips. He walked over to the closet and pulled its doors open. Inside the series of dresses was a young girl with green eyes and brown hair. Tavington reached in, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out.

"Let go of me!" she snapped as she pulled her arm from his grip. "Just who do you think you are?" she snapped.

Tavington lashed out and grabbed her chin with his hand. "Watch your tongue girl or it will cost you your life," he hissed as he pulled her close. "You might have a good reason for hiding in your closet."

Jane pulled her face away from him. "I know nothing," she said knowing that he wanted her to tell him where Benjamin's army was.

Tavington looked from her, to the table that was filled with the letters that John had written. He picked the stacks of letters and went through them. "It seems to me that you do have a slight knowledge about Benjamin Martin's militia."

Jane's eyes slowly looked at the papers in his gloved hands.

Tavington raised his eyes from the papers and looked at her. "Letters from your husband. John is it?" he squinted at the cursive writing.

"He's dead," Jane told him. Once Tavington turned his eyes on her, Jane's stomach flipped. She deeply gazed into those ocean eyes. Her eyes looked at his body and she imagined herself trapped in those muscular hugs. It had been so long since she had felt a man's touch.

"Well isn't that a shame," Tavington sarcastically said. "Was he a young man with auburn hair and brown eyes."

Jane looked at him in a surprised expression. "Yes," she said.

"Well he is dead," he replied. "My bullet pierced through his heart and it instantly killed him."

Jane wanted to glare at the monster standing before her but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Her husband's death meant that she was free from that boring man. This man had given her the freedom to flirt and have other men in her life.

Tavington raised an eyebrow when he noticed the look of pleasure in her eyes. "You look ecstatic about the news," he informed her.

"I didn't want to hear his death but since he isn't around anymore, I am free to love again," Jane said as she clasped her hands together and bought them close to her chest.

Tavington squinted at her. "Do you mean that you never loved him?"

"Not really," Jane said, "he was a loving husband but I felt like I didn't really connect with him."

"You did not love him," Tavington insisted, "its seems that you have waited for his death to come just so you could free."

Jane folded her arms against her chest. "What is wrong with that?"

"You foolish girl!" Tavington snapped, "you have taken advantage of him," he hissed as he towered over her.

Jane felt hypnotized by his shiny blue eyes. A slight smile formed in her rosy lips. "I will tell you where the militia is under one condition."

"What might that be?" Tavington asked.

Jane smiled once more. "Kiss me and marry me," she said, "just one look at you and I know that you will be the perfect man for me."

"I will be in your command when you tell me where they are," Tavington said in a soothing and satisfied voice.

"According to my husband's letters, he told me that they were residing at the Black Swamp by the Old Spanish Mansion."

This was all he wanted to hear. However, he had to satisfy this woman's need. He slowly approached her and cupped her cheeks in his hands. He neared his face closer to hers and planted a planted a kiss on her lips. "I thank you," he said. Jane blushed from the kiss. Wow she thought. He kisses much better than John used to.

As Jane was distracted in her thoughts about this man, she failed to notice that Tavington was pulling his pistol from his side. He directed the pistol to her abdomen. "But I will not be taken advantage of," he hissed as he pulled the trigger.

The pistol let out a sharp noise as it pierced through Jane's stomach. Jane gasped as her eyes bulged. She slowly looked down at her stomach and saw a dark red stain, seeping through her white dress. She raised her glassy eyes and looked at Tavington one last time before she collapsed on the floor.

Tavington placed the pistol at his side and walked out of the house. He mounted back on his horse and prodded towards the church. It was time for the people to suffer a punishment that they did not deserve.

With one betrayed kiss, he took her life away.