Margaret's Complaint
Tavington watched Margaret covertly as she glided across the room to join the Colonial, Mr. Simms. That had been a surprise, that she was a close acquaintance of the Loyalist Aristocrat.
His eyes lingered on her - she had quite a fine figure and was easily as tall as he. He was having a hard time keeping his mind on the business at hand for images of her long, bare legs kept flashing through his mind. After a short while, the doors opened again and Captain Bordon - with several more of William's Dragoons - escorted an inebriated Major Brendon into the room, along with Private Binnings and the African Tavington assumed was Miss Putman's butler.
She was not wrong - the man is huge!
Tavington's eyes fell on Brendon and a cold sneer crossed his lips. The two men had had their share of wrangles before and William hid a pleased smile when he saw the deep and bloody farrows Margaret had scored along the Major's cheek.
When confronted, Brendon spoke in his defence. It was all drivel, of course - that Miss Putman had thrown herself at him.
When they secluded themselves in the chamber away from the others, Private Binnings gave Clinton the true account of what had taken place. The African body guard, Jonah, was questioned also. Both accounts matched what Margaret had told Tavington earlier, which made it a simple matter for Clinton to decide Brendon's guilt. They returned to the office and Clinton pronounced his judgement and just like that, Brendon was taken away.
Tavington, satisfied that Brendon was finally to be put down like the dog he was, wore a small smile of satisfaction. He glanced over at Margaret and his smile vanished. The woman had her head buried in Mr. Simms shoulder and was quietly weeping. Her tears cut William to the bone, for some odd reason. There had been rapes and the like over the past four years that he had served in the army. Plenty of women had been dispossessed as their homes were burned to the ground or as they watched their husbands hang for treason. He had become hardened over the last few years, it had been a very long time since he had felt moved by any woman's tears.
William continued to watch her as she gathered herself and turned to face them.
Clinton addressed her, asking if he could still quarter Officers in her home. There were so many Officers that Clinton did not have enough lodgings for them all as it was. To lose Miss Putman's now would be a blow - especially considering the location of her manner - on Tradd St - barely a five minute walk from the Assembly Hall.
"Yes, I will allow it, if they are Gentlemen, Sir." Margaret had replied finally and William was forced to stifle his amusement at her words. Brendon was most certainly not a Gentleman! He never had been.
"Come, Margaret, let's get you home," Mr. Simms was saying now.
Miss Margaret Putman, William thought. Now where have I heard that name before?
He was certain he'd heard of her, though he could not pinpoint when or where. Though Charleston was a small place and all of the aristocratic families knew one another. Catherine Chambers had probably mentioned her, William realised. Though he would not seek Mrs. Chambers out to ask her of Margaret, for he had been trying to avoid her of late. When her husband returned several days ago, William had felt certain their liaison would come to a natural end. It would be too risky carrying it on with the man of the house home. Catherine, however, had other ideas. She sought him out as often as she could, pulling him into his room or an empty storage closet. She had even left him a note to meet her in the cellars - she'd left it right there on his pillow!
What if one of the maids had come across it and reported back to Mr. Chambers? It would be a disaster, if his dalliance - with a married woman whose house he was quartered in - was to become common knowledge! What if Clinton found out? The Commander in Chief would be less than pleased. He did indeed expect his Officers to comport themselves to a high standard - he had been telling the simple truth there! The discovery that Tavington had entered into an adulterous affair with a married woman would be disastrous to his career. He almost wished he had let Evans have the stupid woman, those weeks ago when they first arrived! Evans didn't have as much to lose as Tavington.
Though, he mused ruefully, the tryst with Catherine in the cellar had been quite enjoyable. She had such a way with her tongue, he could barely breathe when she was on her knees sucking him. And she was so abandoned when he was buried to the hilt inside her. Quite delicious, actually. But William tired of the same woman easily and his affair with Catherine was simply not worth the risk any longer. He was uncertain what to do about it - considering the two were living in the same house. It was not as though he had the will power to turn her away when she slipped into his room at midnight! But if her husband were to discover it…
Tavington pushed the disquieting thought aside, returning to the matter at hand. Miss Putman - Christ, but she was beautiful. He gazed at her now as she put her handkerchief in her skirts pocket and linked her arm through Mr. Simms. The two were approaching now, of necessity they would pass closely by him to make their way to the door. He met her gaze and when she drew alongside of him, she stopped. Mr. Simms stopped also, his expression startled.
Margaret reached out and boldly took Tavington's gloved hand in hers. William's eyes widened as he stared into her blue eyes made bright from her tears. She gave his hand a firm squeeze before releasing it. She blushed then, seeming only to realise the boldness of her gesture now, and she explained all in a rush.
"Sir, I can not thank you enough for your assistance today," she said breathlessly. William's startled expression became warm and his lips quirked in a rare smile. "I am sorry for my earlier conduct," she continued. "I was angry and upset and… I don't know what you must have thought of me! But you helped me and…" she paused, somewhat at a loss. "I truly am grateful to you."
"It was my duty, Miss Putman," William replied. Then, when he realised how cold that sounded, he continued, "and my pleasure. As for what I think of you, I think quite highly of you. Your conduct was exactly as I would imagine any woman's would be, after the trauma you were put through today. Hopefully we shall meet with one another again under less straining circumstances."
Margaret smiled and of course, William read a whole world of meaning in it. The smile seemed to say she hoped for as much also.
Mr. Simms held his hand out to William and the two shook hands firmly.
"You've done my family a service, Sir," Mr. Simms said, nodding curtly. William inclined his head.
And then Mr. Simms was leading Margaret away, her giant ox of a body guard following in her wake. William's eyes lingered on her figure, her back was to him now of course, but he continued to stare until the door was closed behind her. Then he shifted his gaze to his long time companion, Captain Philip Bordon, whose brows were lifted speculatively. The Captain was smirking at Tavington knowingly and William heaved a sullen sigh. Nothing got past his Captain. Not a damned thing.
Ignoring Bordon, he turned back to Sir Clinton, coldly attending the business at hand.
"After his flogging, Brendon should be put on the first ship back to England," he said firmly. "If he doesn't die of the whipping, that is."
"Indeed. Colonel Tavington, you will see to it personally," Sir Clinton commanded, then he began to rage. "Mr. Simms' daughter in law! Or close enough to make no difference! This could have been a disaster! If I lost Simms support now, with so few Loyalists coming forward to assist us… Yes - a disaster! I should hang Brendon from his bloody useless neck!"
"The world would be a better place for it," Tavington sneered. "Still, even if he survives the whipping, you have expelled him from the army. He will never cause us problems again."
"No, he won't," Clinton agreed, slightly mollified. "Tavington, you will also see to the removal of the other Officers - Brendon's unit - stationed at Miss Putman's manor. I doubt they will continue any further folly, but the sight of them may offend her. And I get the feeling that if anything offends Miss Putman, it would also offend Mr. Simms."
Private Binnings, standing forgotten in a corner, shifted uncomfortably and wondered exactly where he and his unit would wind up being quartered. Probably in the camp beyond Charles Town, in a canvas tent, as far from Miss Putman's eyes as possible. He did not mind residing in the tents, but it saddened him that he might never see Miss Maisy Harper again.
"Yes, of course," Tavington began, then he paused, an idea suddenly forming in his mind. Miss Putman had said she would still quarter Officers in her home and if Brendon's unit were removed, perhaps she would have room for William's unit! The idea of living in the same home as the beautiful Miss Margaret Putman was an appealing one on its own. But Tavington had more incentive than her comeliness.
Just one slip, just one little mistake would be all it took for Mr. Peter Chambers to discover the Colonel's affair with his wife, Catherine. One little blunder on either William or Catherine's part, and the Colonel would be in as much disgrace as Major Brendon was now! He wouldn't be whipped, of course, but the damage done to his reputation would be calamitous.
He couldn't end the affair effectively while living in Catherine's home, not when she was slipping her hand down his breeches at every opportunity! Flesh and blood - thats all the Officer was. No willpower to guard him from a seductive women.
However, if he was to leave her residence and move into Miss Putman's, he could end the tryst with Catherine for once and for all, before her husband became aware of it! Thinking fast, William prepared to word his request to Clinton carefully.
"Sir Clinton," he said coolly - though it was an effort to keep the eagerness from his voice. "As you are aware, by the time the Green Dragoons arrived in the township all of the nearest accommodations had been taken. Miss Putman's home is on Tradd St - not even a five minute walk from here. I would like to request moving the Dragoon Officers from my current billet to Miss Putman's, seeing that her home has just become available."
"I have no problem with that," Clinton agreed with a nod. "She seems grateful to you and after todays disaster I would rather quarter Officers who have earned her trust in her home."
William could barely hide his elation. He carefully kept his gaze from Bordon's, knowing what he would see in his friends expression. A roll of his eyes or another smirk, no doubt.
"It would be prudent in case of an emergency also," Tavington felt the need to press his point, even though he already had Clinton's approval. "I would be far closer to the Assembly Hall, you could summon me that much more quickly."
"I agree," Clinton inclined his head. "Very good, Colonel. I am certain Miss Putman will be pleased."
"Thank you, Sir. I will leave you now to begin the preparations," Tavington said formally, bowing politely. "Bordon." He called abruptly as he turned on his heel. His adjutant fell in beside him and they strode from the office.
Bordon bided his time until the two were relatively alone in the corridors. When he was certain no one was paying them any attention, Philip scoffed under his breath.
" 'It would be prudent in case of an emergency'," he teased in a fair imitation of Tavington's cold voice. William ignored him, not rising to the bait. Undaunted, Philip continued. " 'Not even a five minute walk from here,' " he scoffed again. "Yes, because Mr. Chambers home was so very far away. An entire ten minutes on the back of a horse."
"Ten minutes could be the difference between life and death," Tavington argued. "It could make all the difference in battle, as you damned well know."
"Yes, but you weren't thinking of battle or being close in case of an emergency," Bordon said forthright. "And I damned well know that, too!"
"You want me to admit it, don't you?" William accused as they trotted down the broad stairs and through the foyer on the ground floor. "Fine. I shouldn't have begun that affair with that stupid wench. It was foolish of me to take up with a married woman, knowing her husband would return eventually. I can only end this affair effectively if I am able to distance myself from Catherine. When it comes to women, however, we can not all be as disciplined as you."
Bordon laughed. "If Mrs. Chambers had thrown herself at me, I'm certain I'd have caved also. I'm a man made of flesh and blood just like you. Still," he paused as they stepped out on the Assembly Halls front steps, both blinking in the bright sunshine. "It does mean we have to move now. Evans won't be happy, he's been enjoying himself with that maid - Betty."
"He'll have to relieve himself on tavern doxies from now on," Tavington shrugged, uncaring. The two began to make their way across the road toward Tradd St. "I will not give Miss Putman's staff any cause for complaint. Her maids are not to be touched."
"Good luck," Bordon laughed softly. "Especially if any of them are as lustful as Betty."
"I can't see Miss Putman hiring women like Betty," Tavington said primly. He himself had taken the maid to his bed, several times, she was unrelenting in her need to couple. William frowned suspiciously and turned to gaze side long at Bordon. "How do you know how lusty she is? Have you and she…?"
He left it hanging and Bordon didn't answer him. Not verbally, in any case. The Captain's cheeks reddened, however and he almost tripped over an obstacle on the footpath that was not there.
"That would be a yes," William began to laugh, a hearty deep laugh. "Not so disciplined after all! Has she left teeth marks on you also?"
"And what of Miss Putman?" Bordon shot back, ignoring the question. Of course he had teeth marks on him, Betty always sunk her teeth in at the height of her pleasure.
It vexed him to be caught out by William, when he always tried to keep his dalliances discreet. William was still ignorant - even after all these years - of Philip's adoration for Eleanor, and his intention to marry her, for the Bordon's had not given him permission to reveal it as yet. Nevertheless Philip's feelings toward Eleanor remained unchanged, he would one day marry her if his parents permitted it. For four years he had managed to keep Rose's keepsake safe - the small portrait of Eleanor she had slipped into his pocket so long ago. Philip gazed at her likeness often, when he was certain he was quite alone.
Even still, though he was far from chaste, he did his utmost to ensure Tavington knew as little of his affairs as possible, for he knew William would not allow Eleanor to marry a man he perceived to be a debaucher. Over the years, Philip had developed a reputation of discipline, of self restraint. However, these descriptions could not be further from the truth, he had merely learned to hide his roguery well.
"I'm not so foolish as to believe your motives for moving to her residence are merely to get away from your tryst with Mrs. Chambers," Philip continued. "If you ask me, your head has been turned by yet another pair of blue eyes."
"Well, Christ, can you blame me?" Tavington asked wistfully. "You saw how beautiful she was!"
"Sweet Lord, you're fickle," Bordon accused. "And you tire of the same woman far too quickly. I can't imagine you ever being faithful to your wife if you were to marry."
"Marriage?" Tavington scoffed. "Hell, thats the last thing on my mind just now. Still, I do enjoy gazing at a pretty woman and Miss Putman is one of the most beautiful I've seen in an age!"
"Yes, and she was also nearly raped today," Bordon said abruptly and William sobered, his small smile disappearing. "We're here," the Captain continued, opening the iron wrought front gate. Bordon was the Officer William had spoken to outside Clinton's office, the one he had sent to summon Major Brendon, so the Captain had already been to Margaret's residence. William, however, had not.
"Jesus," he swore softly as he gazed at the large manor. It was much like the other stately Colonial homes lined up on the affluent street, a three story structure with large white columns. The second floor balcony spanned the entire front of the house, though from his angle Tavington could see smaller balconies along the east side, private balconies for the bed chambers no doubt. The large bank of windows on both the ground and second levels were almost floor to ceiling. Judging by the size of it, Tavington estimated the house to have at least fourteen sleeping chambers!
To think, he had left his mother in that small, six bedroom apartment. And here was Miss Putman, living all alone in her large stately manor.
"She's far more wealthier than I thought," he said quietly as the two strode up the path toward the front verandah.
"Why would you think she was anything else?" Bordon asked him. "She was to marry into the Simms family after all. Though I can't help but wonder how much she is worth…"
"Are you considering marriage now Bordon?" Tavington quipped.
Philip shook his head, a small mysterious smile playing across his lips as his thoughts again turning to Eleanor Tavington.
Jonah opened one half of the double front doors just as the Officers began climbing the steps to the verandah. The large butler greeted them, then invited them in to the wide foyer. Tavington's eyes lingered on the expensive marble statues placed on delicate tables, the large oil portraits lining the walls and the luxuriously woven rugs on the thick carpeted floor. All luxuries the Tavington family had enjoyed themselves, a long time ago. Until his father had become so debauched, he had squandered their wealth. Though William had managed to claw his name back to prominence through his deeds over the last four years, he was still very bitter toward his late father for bringing the family to the brink of ruin.
"I'll tell Miss Putman you're here, Sir," Jonah said now. He turned and knocked on a door to Tavington's right, he disappeared within to announce the visitors. A few moments later, Margaret, Mr. Simms and a pretty, dark haired woman emerged from the chamber. This woman's dresses were of far simpler cut than Margaret's, and were made of wool and cotton rather than silk. She hung back and lowered her eyes, her hands crossed before her.
Miss Putman's maid, perhaps, Tavington mused. Definitely a pretty little thing, Evans will be pleased. But no - I'll not allow him to pursue Miss Putman's maids…
"Colonel Tavington," Margaret greeted him warmly. She smiled shyly at him and at Bordon both.
"I do not believe I have introduced my adjutant, Miss Putman," William said now. "Captain Philip Bordon."
The two bowed and curtsied politely. Margaret then introduced Mr. Simms and Miss Harper to the Officer's.
"Please forgive the interruption," Tavington said after inclining his head toward Miss Harper. "Sir Clinton asked me to come here in person to see to the removal of Brendon's Officers," he said, explaining his unexpected presence.
"Oh, wonderful - thank you! They are upstairs…" Margaret gazed up the broad stair case in time to hear a loud 'whoop' coming from the large parlor. "I haven't gone near them since we returned here a short time ago."
"I don't blame you," William said as he shared a dark look with Bordon.
"We were just now discussing how we would get them out of the house," George rumbled. "I should have known Clinton would have every thing in hand."
"Indeed he does," Tavington inclined his head. "Shall we?"
He began to stride up the stairs purposefully and the others fell in behind him.
"This way," Margaret said tentatively when they reached the second landing. She led the way to the parlor, then hung back at the door, allowing Tavington and Bordon to step through before her, George and Jonah. Maisy, who had no desire to see the drunk Officers, met Margaret's gaze and signalled her mistress - she would go about her duties.
Tavington stopped dead just inside the parlor, he scowled as he took in his surroundings.
The drunk Officers, those who were not passed out on the sofas and chaises, gradually became aware of the superior Officers in their midst. Cursing, they stumbled to their feet, trying to stand at attention. William eyed the weaving Officers, his glare taking them in from head to toe before shifting his gaze to Margaret standing slightly behind him.
"This from only five bottles of wine?" He asked in a politely incredulous tone. "Just exactly how big are these bottles?"
"Perhaps the Officers drank five 'kegs' of Miss Putman's wine, not five 'bottles', Sir," Bordon said dryly.
"Ah… Do you think they might have had something else as well?" She asked them uncertainly. At William's nod, she headed toward the bureau and opened the small door.
"Jesus Christ!" she spat suddenly as she pulled forth an almost empty bottle of Irish Whiskey. Bordon and Tavington exchanged shocked glances but in her rage, Margaret seemed unaware she had sworn at all. Mr. Simms came forward, his face thunder.
"I gifted that bottle to your father years ago!" He said furiously before turning back to Tavington. "Do you have any idea of its worth?"
Tavington could hazard a guess but before he could answer, the enraged aristocrat turned on the drunken Officers.
"More than you useless fools put together could earn in five years of service, I can tell you that right now!" He shouted. "It was too good for you louts to piss against the wall!"
"As if stealing my wine was not bad enough!" Margaret folded her arms over her chest, bright spots of fury colouring her cheeks.
"Brendon said we could," one Officer said in his defence.
"You're the one who called me a bitch, aren't you?" Margaret said in a tone filled with wrath.
Tavington stiffened with fury. His cold gaze lingered first on Margaret, then shifted to the Officer in question.
"Did you now?" He asked softly. Tavington's temper was infamous and the Officer quailed, fearing the Commandants brutal and swift retribution.
"Sir, I ah…" he glanced quickly at Margaret and swallowed hard. "I am sorry if I offended you, Miss Putman."
" 'If' you offended? As if I couldn't be anything but offended at being called a bitch," Margaret murmured. "It is the pilfering of my wine and now my whiskey that offends me, however."
The Officer hung his head, unable to come up with a suitable explanation or apology. His comrades - those who were not unconscious, watched warily despite being soused.
"You have outstayed your welcome," Tavington informed them crisply. "Each and every single one of you will leave this parlor, immediately. You will return to your rooms and begin packing your belongings."
"Where are we going?"
"To the tents," William decided on the spur of the moment, knowing fully well the Officers would dislike that very much. To go from such luxurious lodgings in the middle of Charleston, to the tent city which sprawled in the countryside beyond would be a kick in their pants indeed.
The Officers stared at him with shock, one opened his mouth to protest but snapped it shut when one of his wiser comrades stomped on his foot.
"I had originally planned to find you proper lodgings elsewhere, as Clinton suggested," Tavington informed them. "Your conduct has gone against you, however. You have proven yourselves to be unable to behave in a manner befitting your rank, therefore you will return to the tents where you will have to piss and shit in the latrines with the rest of the common soldiers."
Margaret's eyes widened to hear Tavington swear in front of her. Very un-gentlemanlike, but she couldn't bring herself to be even remotely offended. Not when she witnessed the Officer's chagrined expressions.
"You have your orders," William continued firmly. He stood ramrod straight, glaring down his nose at the drunk soldiers as they attempted to rouse their comrades, finally stooping to carry the unconscious troopers out of the parlor.
When they left, Margaret laughed brightly and clapped her hands together like an excited school girl.
"Oh, that was wonderful to watch, Sir!" She said in a voice filled with admiration and respect. Her cheeks were flushed bright with mirth. "Simply wonderful. How did you do that? They were terrified of you and you didn't even raise your voice!"
A small smile quirked William's lips as he basked in her praise.
"The rank of Colonel is a powerful one," Bordon explained. "Those men could be whipped at Tavington's command alone and they all know it."
Margaret sobered then, thinking of the flogging Major Brendon would receive.
"Fear not, Miss Putman," William said now, mistaking the cause of her silence. "I will not leave until the last of that lot has packed his belongings and vacated your house."
Margaret smiled weakly, allowing Tavington to believe that it was the presence of Brendon's Officers that caused her disquiet. In truth, it was picturing Brendon secured to a post, his arms spreadeagled and his bare back covered with blood and broken, ripped skin. He had tried to rape her and had almost succeeded in doing so. She imagined she could feel the head of his manhood pressing against her, even now, and had a serious need to bathe herself in very hot water.
But still, fifty lashes! It could kill the man! She was distracted from her thoughts when several maids, led by Maisy, entered the parlor with tentative expressions on their faces. They began tidying the room quickly and efficiently.
"If thats the case, Colonel Tavington," Mr. Simms began as the maids worked around them. "If you don't plan on leaving just yet, then I really must be away. Margie, will you be alright now?"
"Oh, yes, of course, Sir," Margaret assured him.
"Miss Putman will be safe enough now, I assure you," William told the older man.
"Again, you have my gratitude, Colonel Tavington." Mr. Simms said, nodding gravely before sweeping from the chamber.
The maids finished up and began to leave. Maisy hung back for a moment, her eyes on Margaret.
"Can I get you anything, Miss Margaret?" She asked solicitously.
"No, I'm fine, Maisy. Thank you," she said and her maid followed the others out. Tavington spoke briefly - and quietly - to Bordon, who turned and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.
Margaret found herself alone with Tavington, for the second time that day.
"You have my absolute assurance that this will not happen again, Miss Putman," he said, breaking the silence.
She gave him a tremulous smile and fidgeted with the lace on her sleeve, her fingers twining through it somewhat nervously.
"I have to admit I was half expecting to be sent on my way when I entered the hall with my complaint, I was not expected to be taken so seriously," she confided softly.
"I assure you, we take rape very seriously. Major Brendon will be disciplined harshly for this."
"Yes, but... A flogging?" Margaret asked faintly. "It is harsh... And he could die of it."
"We can only hope," Tavington said firmly, stepping forward to stand before her. "If he does manage to survive, he will be shipped back to England on the first boat."
My Lord she is beautiful. He could not help it, his gaze lingered on her face. Her lovely full lips, her large blue eyes, a shade far darker than his own pale blue. He didn't even need to lower his gaze to meet hers, such was her height. And her figure... He sighed heavily and tried not to stare.
"You hope he dies?" Margaret whispered, seemingly oblivious to the Colonel's attraction.
"As I said, we take rape very seriously," Tavington replied. "If he had succeeded in his attempt, he would have been hanged."
Margaret turned away slowly, presenting William with her back. He took a gentle hold of her arm and turned her around to face him. His touch was gentle but his eyes were cold and hard.
"Don't you dare feel sympathy for that man," he said sternly. He released her arm reluctantly, it had felt good to touch her.
Margaret's face was ashen and her hands trembled. Sweet Lord, she would have been raped! Why she should feel sympathy for Brendon was beyond her! But it was there, no matter what Tavington commanded her to feel.
Even still, she nodded meekly and walked over to the bureau to see if there was any wine left in the open bottles. There was, she was pleased to see and she poured herself a generous portion before holding the bottle up to Tavington questioningly. He nodded and she poured him one also.
"You might not wish me to feel sympathy for Brendon," she said as she handed him the goblet then sat down in one of the comfortable arm chairs. William took his cue and sat across from her. "But I do feel quite poorly for Private Binnings. He was the only one in his unit worthy of being called a Gentleman. And my maid - Miss Harper was fond of him. He disobeyed orders to protect me, what will become of him?"
"Hmm, I'll have to give the matter some thought," William said. "It would not do, to leave him in with his unit - they might seek retribution, if they decide to blame him for their current situation. For assisting you in the cellar, I mean."
Margaret frowned with concern. "I do hope you don't leave him to wallow in the tents with that unit. Can he be transferred? I admit I don't understand how such things work."
"He can be transferred," William nodded. "As I said, leave it with me. I'll not allow one such as he - a half decent Officer despite having Brendon for a Commander - to be wasted."
"Oh, I'm glad," Margaret was profoundly relieved. "Do you know who Sir Clinton will station here, Sir?"
"Actually Miss Putman, I do," he said, feeling somewhat hesitant. He hadn't so much as asked Margaret's permission to move into her manor, after all. Still, he couldn't think of a single reason why she would refuse him. "I have decided to move my own unit here."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "But, aren't you already billeted?"
Tavington shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Of course he could not explain it all to her - about Catherine Chambers and his tryst. He decided to give as few details as possible.
"Yes, but it is not a... desired residence," he informed her, then took a long sip from his goblet. "Hmm, very good," he complimented.
"It is good, is it not? Far too good for that... That...!" She was obviously having trouble thinking of a word strong enough to describe Major Brendon.
"Poxy bastard?" William offered with a small smile.
Margaret was shocked at first but she quickly began to laugh. Tavington enjoyed listening to her rich laugh, her whole face lit up when she smiled.
"Yes," she said, chuckling. "That describes him perfectly!"
"You are very beautiful, Miss Putman, especially when you smile," Colonel Tavington said, turning on the charm. "Though your anger earlier was impressive. A woman is at her most beautiful when angered. I think I am going to enjoy staying here."
She lowered her eyes and blushed shyly at his bold comments. William hid his smile by taking another sip of wine.
"Just don't throw me up against the wall," Margaret said, finally finding her voice. "And I believe we'll get along just fine."
Astonished, William almost spluttered on his wine.
I will have to control myself from doing just that! He thought, as the mental imagine of heaving his erection inside her while her back was pressed against the wall, caused an aching in his breeches.
::::::::::::
The two spent an enjoyable hour in one another's company while Brendon's unit packed their belongings. Tavington spent the time flirting subtly, delighting in her blushes, her shy smiles and her soft, musical laugh. Eventually Private Binnings returned and after packing his own belongings, he came into the parlor and announced the Officers were ready to leave. Tavington's reason for lingering had come to an end and he bid Margaret a reluctant farewell.
Once he returned to his quarters, Tavington explained to Mr. Peter Chambers that he and his unit had found lodgings closer to the Assembly Hall and would be leaving in the morning.
Peter didn't question the Colonel of his intentions or even where he was going to billet in future. He was just more than pleased to see the back him. Catherine had been behaving strangely indeed with Tavington living in the house. Although Peter hadn't raised the subject with Tavington himself, he had noticed the smokey and lingering glances his wife had sent the Colonel's way. Over the dinner table or in the parlor when they all sat around a table playing cards in the evening. Peter had become increasingly uncomfortable - and insulted - by those lingering gazes. It shamed him that his wife would behave so and Peter had planned to speak to her about it most firmly, that very night in fact. The only reason he had not done so earlier, was because Tavington had not seemed to encourage those glances. Peter had only ever seen Tavington show Catherine cool politeness, he never flirted with Peter's wife - he never so much as glanced warmly back in her direction.
Tavington's announcement that he was leaving set Peter's mind to rest. With luck, they would not encounter the Colonel again and Catherine would simply forget her infatuation. Still, it was shameful behaviour and an embarrassment to him and he resolved to ensure she conducted herself more accordingly with whomever took over Tavington's billet within his home.
After speaking with Peter Chambers, Tavington left the man and began making his way through the house to his chamber with the intention of packing. Before he could reach the stairs, however, a soft hand seized his wrist, tugging. Startled, William glanced over his shoulder and met Catherine's eyes. He sighed heavily, about to refuse her when -
"Just a quick one?" She whispered mischievously, still tugging his wrist. "I can't wait until tonight, darling!"
She was a demanding thing, he had known it from the first. His own cock was still aching since Margaret's pronouncement to not throw her against the wall and the slew of subsequent images that had been flashing in his mind ever since. And so he allowed himself to be pulled along, a short way down the hall to a small, dark closet.
"In here," Catherine giggled, opening the door and pulling him in.
"A closet, Catherine?" William arched an eyebrow as she shut the door, enclosing them in darkness.
"We can't go to your room, not with so many Dragoons and servants about," she replied, her fingers already stroking over the front of his breeches. "Do you like that?" she asked, giving his hard bulge a playful squeeze. William sighed.
"I certainly do," he murmured thickly. I just wish it was Miss Putman's hand, not yours.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out the dim outline of her shape before him. Her head was tilted back expectantly awaiting him to kiss her.
"A quick in and out, you said?" He asked.
"Thats all we have time for just now," she pouted.
"Then turn around," he commanded. Without obliging her with a kiss, he took hold of her arm and turned her. Catherine leaned forward, presenting her backside to him eagerly, even giving it a wiggle. William reached down and bunched her skirts up in his hands, pulling them up over her hips. Her pale rump seemed to glow in the dark confines of the closet and William sighed with pleasure, imaging it was Margaret he had bent before him. He was glad it was so dark, he would not see Catherine's face at all, leaving him free to fantasise about Margaret while he pummelled the other woman.
Letting go of her skirts - which stayed up around her waist for she was bent so low, he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his breeches, pushing them down far enough to free his aching erection. He bent his knees to position himself - the whole while thinking he would probably not have to bend half so much if it was the tall Margaret he was about to enter! He took hold of his hard cock and angled himself at Catherine's opening, entering her with a long, hearty sigh.
"Ah, yes," he whispered. "This is exactly what I needed."
"Oh, me too," Catherine gasped and whimpered. She began moving against him at once, meeting his thrusts. Tavington curled his fingers around her hips and began to guide her. He closed his eyes and, as his cock was welcomed by her enveloping heat, he his thoughts drift to the beautiful Miss Putman.
"Just don't throw me against a wall," Margaret was saying.
"But darling, I think you'd enjoy it against the wall," William smiled at her mischievously, reaching down to gather her skirts in his hands.
"Oh," Margaret breathed. She swallowed, gazing at him with her bright blue eyes. "Well, perhaps I would at that," she managed to whisper.
"I'll ensure it," he smiled. His hands were beneath her skirts now, drifting along her smooth thighs, gradually moving inward to caress through her dark curls. Margaret's breath caught and she parted her lips, her eyes beseeching him now to kiss her. He was only to happy to oblige, barely having to bend his head to hers to do so. Catching hers lips with his, he began with a soft brush, then an equally soft nibble. Her lips were pliable beneath his, parting slightly to receive his tongue.
"So sweet," he murmured at that first taste, then stroked his tongue along hers again. Her slim arms draped over his shoulders, her soft rubbing his back over his Redcoat. Under her skirts, he slid his finger lower, tracing her folds before dipping between them. Margaret gasped for air, his kisses and his fingers on her quim making it difficult to breath.
"Do you like that, darling?" He murmured against her lips as his finger began to circle her swelling bud slowly. She nodded frantically and tightened her hold on his shoulders.
"Oh, I do, I do!" she gasped, rocking her hips back and forth against his finger tips. He glided them lower to circle her entrance, finding that she was moist, her arousal was slippery and warm.
Tavington's eyes glazed with pleasure. His grip on Catherine's hips tightened, his pelvis snapped back and forth, his length sliding in and out, gaining speed with each thrust. Catherine moaned, she braced her legs to steady herself, her fingers clutching at the wall for purchase. And still he pounded into her, oblivious to her moans, to her pleasure. Her slick heat was all he cared about, as he continued to drift in his fantasy.
"I did this to you, didn't I?" he taunted softly, his fingertip spreading her moisture around her opening, preparing the way for him.
"Yes, oh yes!" Margaret whimpered. William was unsure if she was answering him, of crying out with the pleasure his fingers were drawing from her body.
"I need more from you now, sweet Margie," he moaned against her lips, his fingers withdrawing from her core. She gave a disappointed moan, desolate at their loss. Then his hands gripped her waist he he lifted her against the wall.
"I didn't throw you, see?" he smiled up at her, her face was above his now, smiling down with anticipation.
"Yes, you're so much more of a Gentleman than Brendon," she whispered back, her fingers stroking his smooth cheeks.
"I'll show you how wonderful it is, when you are with a real Gentleman," he murmured. "Wrap your legs around me, darling."
Her legs came about his hips and he pressed forward, the tip of his manhood seeking her moist entrance. She frowned down at him, suddenly alarmed.
"Shh," he whispered, reaching up to brush away a stray strand of hair. "You'll enjoy this, I promise you."
He began to press inside her, gliding into her moist heat.
"Oh," she clutched at him, her expression shifting to one of fright. It was her first time, after all. He leaned up and began covering her face with kisses, her mouth, her cheeks, her foreheads, even pressing a gentle kiss on each of her eyes.
"I've prepared the way, darling," he whispered as he kissed her, still pushing inexorably forward, deeper into her. "I doubt it will hurt a bit."
Her face relaxed, her fear dissipating, her expression trusting.
"Deeper now, sweet Margie," he said softly, sensing she was ready. He was only a quarter way inside her and he waited for her nod before continuing. "All the way now…"
Margaret swallowed, but she accepted his kisses and reassurance, accepting the hard, foreign member as it impaled her deeply within her core. With a quiet shudder, she took him inside of her, all of him.
Tavington's heart pumped wildly, blood roaring in his ears. Catherine was gasping and writing before him. Grunting softly with each thrust, William reached past her and planted his hands against the wall, palms gripping for purchase, he braced his body. His pelvis slapped her backside, again and again and all the while, he gulped and gasped for air. The tension, the ache in his groin built and built until he felt he would surely explode, shatter into a thousand pieces.
Her welcoming heat fit his hard erection like the tightest glove and he almost cried out from the all encompassing pleasure of it.
"Margie, sweet Margie," he whispered against her lips, his tone becoming agonised the more he said her pet name, the more he thrust in and out of her body. Margaret's fear completely gone now, she began to lose herself in the passion of the moment, kissing him deeply, far deeply than before. Her tongue circled his and she whimpered, rocking her hips back and forth, her legs as tight around him as they would go. Tavington struggled to control his breathing, fought to hold back his orgasm, wanting both to wait for her but also to wait forever, be inside her until the world ended. But the joy of it was just too much, the little noises she made in his ear, her warm breath puffing, her face flushed with awakened bliss. It was overwhelming, devastating and so damned good that he could not hold on. Reaching the point of no return he arched his back and cried out, his hips bucking furiously, her hands clutching, grasping at him, her eyes wild and bright. Suddenly he pushed her higher up the wall, buried his face in her neck to muffle his scream as he erupted, his seed exploding along his length and deep into her body, the intense pleasure and pain and joy shooting from him, spurt after spurt. He felt her tight walls convulse and grip him, he savoured the mewling noises spilling from her lips. She tensed in his arms, grappled his shoulders, surging up and pushing her pelvis forward, straining, trying to draw out her climax.
Tavington slowly opened his eyes to the small storage cupboard, he swallowed hard, trying to catch his breath.
Christ, did I black out?
He wasn't certain, but it had felt like it. Perhaps it was just the darkness of the closet and being so deeply embedded in his fantasy of Margaret, perhaps he had lost long wonderful moments that made him feel as though he'd passed out. He didn't remember bending his trunk over Catherine, didn't remember pressing his cheek to her back, didn't remember placing his fingers on her hips again, to force her to fuck him all the harder. He remembered none of it, and when he came down from the lofty heights of his powerful climax, he found himself thoroughly disappointed, almost empty, to discover he was not with Margaret after all.
Catherine drew deep, ragged breaths, the rise and fall of which he could feel beneath his cheek. Gulping hard, he lifted his head and straightened, relieving her of his weight.
"Oh, William," she whispered, slowly straightening also. "You are the best of lovers, but I am certain…" she had to pause to take another huge breath. "I am certain that was the strongest climax you've given me."
She turned to him and he could make out her lazy smile in the sparse light. All he could do was nod in agreement. Thoughts of Margaret had impassioned him, he had been undone, unbridled. His hands shook as he jerked his breeches back up his thighs, buttoned his breeches and buckled his belt.
Catherine had continued to speak, her voice growing stronger by the word, gushing over the wondrous climax. William barely heard her, his mind was still so filled with Margaret.
"Oh, my darling," she said finally. "I'll peek out the door and leave first, you wait here for five minutes, alright? So no one sees us coming out together."
"Yes," he said thickly, it was a good plan, if his mind was not working so sluggishly he'd have suggested it himself.
Catherine reached up and kissed him, he didn't resist her.
"Until tonight, my darling Colonel," she whispered. True to her word, she opened the door ajar and peeked out, then the rest of her body followed. Blowing one last kiss his way, she slid from the closet into the hallway. William waited the five minutes that she suggested. It was just as well, it took him that long to recover from his climax.
:::
From the storage closet, he went straight to his chamber to begin packing. As he had been invited to dine with a family of Loyalists that evening, William kept aside his lace cravat and his ceremonial Redcoat, which he never wore into battle, preferring to keep it pristine for more formal occasions. Everything else was packed into his trunks and once he was finished, he strode next door to Lieutenant Evan's chamber.
"Bordon and the others are almost all packed," he said by way of greeting. He shut the door behind him and flopped down on Evan's bed. He lay on his back, crossed his boots at the ankle and folded his arms beneath his head. "We'll be ready to leave first thing in the morning."
Evans scowled at him. He moved about the room, tense and furious, folding his clothing viciously and throwing the items into his trunk. Tavington smiled, his childhood friend was having a temper tantrum, it seemed.
"We wouldn't have to leave at all if you hadn't mounted Mrs. Chambers, Tavington," Stephen said peevishly.
"You'll like this place better, Evans," Tavington's smile broadened with mischief and he sighed wistfully. "It overlooks the harbor, the square and the Gardens. The view is... Spectacular."
"Oh, no…" Evans, who had been bent over his trunk, straightened to glare down at the Colonel. "Wonderful. You'll get us thrown out of this new place, as well"
"What?! We haven't been thrown out of here!" Tavington argued. "We are leaving of our own accord."
"William, you are getting out before it all turns to shit, and you know it," Evans growled. "The way that stupid woman moons over you, even when her husband is present - I'd be surprised if he's not beginning to suspect."
"I am well aware of that. And she insists on taking ridiculous risks as well," William agreed. "Do you want to hear me say it, do you?"
He arched an eyebrow at Evans, who gazed back with surprise.
"Very well," Tavington continued. "I should never have rogered her. I knew her husband would return eventually but I assumed the affair would stop when he did. I was mistaken. The stupid woman has her hands down my breeches at every opportunity. I rogered her not thirty minutes ago in a bloody storage closest downstairs, for crying out loud!"
"Did you now?" Stephen asked, amusement threading through his irritation.
"Yes! She all but dragged me in there and never mind that her husband's office is only a few yards down the hall! So yes, it's only a matter of time before we are caught. Clinton…" William shuddered. "I don't even want to know what Clinton would say about me bedding our hosts wife. My days of gambling and revelry - back before I joined the military - are almost forgotten but if word of this gets out, it would remind everyone all over again!"
"Yes, you've worked hard to make the Tavington name respectful again," Evans said, slightly mollified now. "I understand the need to leave but Christ, William! I'll have to give Betty up, and we both know what a talented little thing she is! I enjoy her company!"
"As do I, my friend!" Tavington laughed. "And Bordon too, it seems."
"Jesus! Not Captain Abstinence himself?" Evans scoffed. "Christ, the world is being turned upside down if Betty could tempt him to loosen up a little!"
"I know, I was astonished myself. Here - you can have Mrs. Chambers tonight," Tavington offered. "That will even the score, surely?"
"Leaving you free to have Betty?" Evans scowled. "Besides, Mrs. Chambers will be coming to you!"
"No, I've had my fill of her, Stephen. I won't take her again, even if I have to sleep elsewhere tonight."
"Not even one last romp?" Evans asked. "You shock me, Sir."
"I shock myself," William murmured, shifting his gaze to the ceiling. Evans stared down at him in askance but when William was not forthcoming, he turned back to continue packing.
Tavington began to brood over Margaret and the strength of his feelings - the intensity of his fantasy. This woman, this Miss Margaret Putman… He had to admit it to himself that she had gotten under his skin. Perhaps it was because he had helped her and she had been so grateful. The damsel in distress saved by the powerful Knight. He had been able to play the hero for a change, it was not often that happened. He usually bought fire and destruction upon families, upon women. But this beautiful woman had gazed at him, her bright blue eyes shining and moist, her warm hand squeezing his.
Her breathless words came back to him now.
"Sir, I can not thank you enough for your assistance today."
And:
"You helped me and I truly am thankful to you."
William smiled at the memory and felt a well of pride flush through him.
The actions of a Gentleman, he mused happily.
"Lord, she's beautiful," he said now as Stephen began packing away some books into the trunk.
"I can't wait to see her," Stephen smirked.
"Hands off," William said threateningly, then he continued to muse over Margaret's beauty, describing her to his friend. "Yes, definitely beautiful. She's as tall as I am. And such a fine figure, in her silks. She's wealthy, she is. And you should see her house!"
"I'm about to, remember?" Evans laughed. "I've no choice, seeing that we'll be moving there. I do hope she has a pretty maid or two."
"She has - Miss Maisy Harper. Dark hair, blue eyes, pale complexion. Pretty," Tavington waved his hand in dismissal despite Evans sudden interest. "But I was speaking of Miss Putman, Evans. She's young - twenty four, perhaps. Golden hair - I can imagine stroking my fingers through it when its down - I wonder how long it is?"
"So you do plan on bedding her? Miss Putman - thats a good omen, at least this ones not married," Evans taunted. William shrugged the comment off.
"Catherine has to wear powder, have you noticed? Not so Miss Putman. Pale skin, not a single blemish except for a freckle or two. Blue eyes, a darker shade than mine."
"Are you done?" Evans jeered. "Christ, who'd have thought you capable of such romantic observations?"
To avoid more teasing, William fell silent, though his mind was still on Margaret.
He could not discern her thoughts, which was unusual for him, he could normally read people like a book. Once she had calmed down and regained her composure, she had become closed to him. Her expression was regal, even haughty without marring her beauty. Her long fingered hands were placed calmly before her, and she had stood straight and tall, while they waited in the hallway to be admitted to see Sir Henry Clinton.
Because of her bearing, William had been very surprised to hear the vulnerability in her voice, when she asked him if she would have to describe her attack all over again. Tavington's offer to speak for her left him feeling very gallant indeed.
The knock on the door interrupted his musings; he rose to a more dignified position, sitting perched on the edge of the bed, as Evans crossed the room to open the door.
Catherine darted in, her eyes bright with unshed tears. Tavington frowned, his good mood fleeing. Without so much as a glance toward Evans, she rushed to stand before William, her fingers clutching her at her skirts.
"My husband told me you are leaving!" She burst out despairingly. "Is it true? Are you leaving?"
Cursing like a sailor, Tavington jumped to his feet and raced to the door, shutting it firmly. Christ, that was all he needed, for her husband to hear her now! It could be the ruin of everything! He turned back slowly to face her, his lips tight, his face set like stone.
"Pull yourself together!" He hissed quietly, "your husband might hear!"
"I don't care, even if he set me aside!" She cried out. Her silks rustled as she raced to stand before him, her fingers beseeching, clutching at the front of his Redcoat. "My darling, I don't want you to leave!"
Tavington blew out an angry breath, filled with disdain. Miss Putman was almost raped and she kept better composure than this silly woman! Definitely time to be gone.
"You ridiculous woman!" He sneered coolly, raising himself to full height to loom over her. "What makes you think I would keep you, if he set you aside?"
She stared up at him in shock, her tears spilling onto her cheeks.
"You don't want me?" she quavered finally.
Tavington shook his head with incredulity; a laugh of derision burst from his lips. Now that he was leaving her, finally leaving her, he allowed all his contempt to come to the fore.
"I have had all I wanted from you, and do not require any more," he curled his lip. Equal measures of consternation and incredulity flashed over her face.
"I thought you cared for me," she whispered.
"I cared for this," he reached up and groped her breasts and even as she recoiled, he reached down to press her between her legs. "And for that. But for you? No," he scoffed. "I cared nothing for you."
Catherine's breath caught in her throat. She stared at William, her eyes wide and wild.
"This needs to end now, before we are caught," he continued implacably. "I will not tolerate having my career ruined by you!"
Catherine whimpered as William jerked away from her. He cast her one last, icy glare before throwing the door open and striding from the room.
Once he was in his own chamber, he stalked back and forth furiously, seething over her foolishness. As if dragging him into the closet had not been enough, she visits him in a bed chamber - in the middle of the afternoon? Stupid wench, she would send him plummeting back to his ruin with those actions! He perched to the edge of his bed and dropped his head in his hands, breathing deeply to try and control his anger.
A short while later, a much more compose William left his chamber to seek Evans out once more. But when he reached the Lieutenant's room, just as he placed his hand on the door knob, he heard the very distinctive sounds of coupling. The squeaking of the bed, and the stifled sound of moaning.
It was clearly Catherine, he recognised the moaning. Betty's moans where harsher, sharper. Evidently, Mrs. Chambers had turned to Evans for comfort in her hour of need. Shaking his head with incredulity, he strode off down the hall toward Bordon's chamber to fill Philip in on all that had happened, almost certain that his Captain would find great amusement out of the whole affair.
