Chapter One
Disclaimer: I do not own T.P., just Patricia and Lark.
A/N: Wowzers! (Ok, I will never say that again...) The first chapter of my new fanfic! Since everybody loved the last one, I am posting the sequel... and here it is. Please review!
(Three months after the ending of 'Whatever Comes First')
"Patricia Dawn Kellings! Are you ready yet?" called Lark, running through the halls of the chapel. She stumbled over the folds of her dress, which signified her maid-of-honor-ness. She called Patricia's name again, looking for the bride.
Patricia, meanwhile, was finishing up in her room, fumbling with an annoying flower pin that just wouldn't stay on. She already had poked herself in the chest with it about four times, and she had two tiny holes in her dress from it.
She heard Lark yelling, and cried, "I'm in here."
Lark came in, closing the door behind her and sighing. "Need any help?"
"Not now... I'm okay."
Lark stared at her, in akimbo. She grinned. "You are the surest bride I've ever seen."
Patricia laughed, but it was more like a sigh. "That's only on the outside, I'm afraid."
Lark wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "It'll be nice to see you with a ring on your finger," she said, "And a few children by your side. That is,if William doesn't like children."
Patricia shrugged and raised her eyebrow, sighing tiredly. Personally, she thought William had enough on his mind, let alone children, but she answered, "I think he does... But if we were to have them, he'd make sure one was a boy." She laughed.
She sat down in a chair and put a hand to her head. "I'm scared."
Lark watched her for a few minutes. There was a silence, before she asked, "Well, I'll be going. Be ready in fifteen minutes." The door thunked behind her.
So much had happened over the last three months, it was understandable Patricia would want some alone time.
Yes, she and Tavington had a monogamous relationship, and they prided themselves in it. They were still in America, in Ohio, to be exact. Everyone else (Cornwallis, Bordon, etc...) had gone back to England. O'Hara had, too, but had Lark's hand in marriage. He would be coming back to see her at William and Patricia's wedding... and to see them. Tavington had asked Cornwallis if he could stay and reside in Ohio instead of returning to England, in order to keep his dignity, whereas in England, it would be lost.
He also did this for his fiancee's safety, knowing she would not be able to make the trip to England, and if she did, they would both be mocked.
And, Lady Cardian. She, in sorrow and in rage, had gone to Britain and was being courted (and was courting with) a young noble from Britain named Lord Burnisan.
Secretly, Patricia felt happy Lady Cardian had found someone, being a strong believer in the phrase, "There's someone out there for everyone."
Just not her William.
Meanwhile, Tavington was in his dressing room. He had to be out earlier than Patricia. He only had five minutes before he was expected to be standing out by the alter. O'Hara walked into the room, startling the ex-colonel (But we'll still call him colonel, anyway.)
"Colonel Tavington," O'Hara said, despite the unnecessary name, "There are some rebels outside."
Tavington stopped, dropping his comb. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and he whirled around.
"What?" he asked, disbelieving.
O'Hara knew he should've kept his mouth shut.
"There are rebel forces outside, sir," he said.
Tavington stared. There was a pause, before he turned around again, opening his drawer.
"It's can't be," he said, "Their leader is dead."
"Their leader is dead," O'Hara pointed out, "But they are not."
Another silence, and anyone could sense the growing anger in the room as the men faced each other, unsure of what to do.
"But don't be worried, though, "O'Hara spoke up quickly, trying to calm the furious man, "They say they are only here for the," He raised his eyebrows, confused, "'After party.'"
Tavington stared at him, before ripping open the drawer and slipping his pistol on the inside pocket of his suit. O'Hara looked horrified, knowing the colonel had just broken the number one rule at a wedding - No weapons in the church.
"My goodness, you can't — Jesus, Tavington, put that-" he started, but Tavington forcefully brushed past him to make his way to the door. He went to the cabinet at the far side of the wall and pulled open a compartment O'Hara had never noticed was there. He watched as the colonel slipped a razor inside his boot.
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, O'Hara. My wife and I are possibly in danger." He reached inside the drawer again and flipped him a pocket knife. "I want every single one of those stupid rebels removed from the premises. Have my soldiers shoot them if they refuse to move."
He stood at the door, his hand on the knob. "I'll be damned if I have a good wedding."
O'Hara watched Tavington seethe and head out. "I suppose it'll be peachy, sir," he said, mockingly, "Just peachy."