Chapter 11 -- Sent Home
Late the next morning, James Bordon awakened when bright rays of sunlight shone through the window into his eyes. He gazed lazily down at Anne, whose head rested on his chest, eyes still closed in sleep.
As he regarded her with loving eyes, his hands came in contact with her pregnant belly. No sooner had he touched her than the baby within chose to kick. He frowned to himself, immediately reminded of the fact that Tavington stood between him and Anne, and always would because of the baby she now carried. This simple truth had not crossed his mind once when he and Anne made love the night before, but now, the harsh light of day caused him to confront some rather sobering realities about his feelings for Anne.
His eyes wandered further and fell upon the simple gold band that Anne wore, which, no doubt, was her wedding ring from Gabriel Martin. Tavington had given her more elaborate rings out of the plunder they brought in, which she wore from time to time, but the simple gold ring was a constant, a testament to the feelings she still had for the man she married.
All at once he was overcome with a overwhelming sense of guilt for having taken advantage of Anne's vulnerable position to press his own suit. Anne had come to him for comfort and he'd made use of the confused young woman to satisfy his own lust. He belatedly realized that even if she truly loved him, her interests were truly conflicted, and last night was neither the proper time nor place for him to declare his love, let alone consummate it.
Despite the fact that Tavington had betrayed her in a particularly cruel manner, he knew that Anne's feelings toward the man were decidedly mixed. Indeed, if she'd cared nothing for him, the sight of him in the throes of passion with another woman would not have hurt her so deeply.
Though Bordon regarded his commander as nothing better than an amoral libertine, he knew that Tavington had an uncanny knack of drawing women to him like a moth to a flame, making them almost blind to his moral faults.
And, of course, there was the matter of Anne carrying Tavington's by-blow. If she was anything like most women, she could not help but carry a bit of tender feeling, however small, for the father of her child. Bordon remembered Anne's behaviour at the ball the night before, that even in the midst of their lively conversation, she kept looking for Tavington to appear. He mentally chastised himself for being so blind as not to have realized what that meant.
Bordon sighed to himself, knowing that he had to pull back from the situation and give Anne the space to work out her conflicting loyalties and to decide what she really wanted. As much as he hated to do it, he had to let her go, knowing she'd not be able to properly work through her feelings until after the baby was born.
Several minutes later, as he continued to lie there brooding next to Anne, her eyelids finally fluttered open.
"Good morning," he said, giving her a quick kiss. "Did you sleep well?"
"Not all that well, I'm afraid" she admitted, giving him a tentative smile. "I couldn't keep thoughts of what happened yesterday with William and Gabriel out of my mind, no matter how I tried."
It was exactly as he'd feared.
After stretching the kinks out of his back, Bordon rose from the bed and went over to the window facing away from Anne, still clad in only his shirt and dragoon jacket. Looking out, he said, "I think we've missed breakfast; it must be nearly ten o'clock." Surveying the courtyard, he saw Tavington heading in the direction of Cornwallis' office. Noting that Anne had moved to stand by him, he said, "He's alone. It should be safe for you to return to your room now."
Anne frowned at the sight of her lover, completely disgusted with him. "Well, at least I can go back and change my clothes," she said.
"I think I'll go have a word with him while you do that," Bordon said, turning to find his breeches and boots.
Noting his morose silence as he quickly dressed, she asked, "What's wrong, James? You seem as if something is troubling you."
Turning slowly to face her with a stricken expression, he quietly said, "I do love you, more than you will ever know, but what happened between us last night was a mistake. I should have never taken advantage of you in your vulnerable condition." Glancing away from her, he harshly muttered, "You came to me looking for comfort and what did I do? I used you to slake my own lusts, never thinking of the fact that you carry the child of another man and are married to still yet another. I simply added to your burden, instead of relieving it."
Moving to take her hands in his, he said, "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my behaviour."
Looking up into his earnest, troubled face, she said, "There's nothing to forgive, James. I asked you to make love to me and, believe me, it was very much of a comfort to me."
"Was that all it was -- comfort?" he demanded. "Any port in a storm, then?"
"You mustn't say that, James," she cried, squeezing his hands. "I do care for you, but as you said, I don't quite know what to do now. Gabriel is a prisoner and I don't know what's going to happen to him. I'm about to give birth to William's child and I have no real idea what he plans to do with me and the baby once it's born. And then last night, you confess that you love me! I've never been so confused in all my life.
"I'll take you back to your room now," he said quietly. "There is still that matter of me having a word with Colonel Tavington."
"Please don't say anything you may later regret," she pleaded. "This isn't worth losing your career over."
"On the contrary," he said. "You would be well worth it."
Anne blushed, looking away from him, more confused than ever.
After parting with Anne at the door to Tavington's quarters, Bordon hurried outside in search of his commanding officer. He found him returning from Cornwallis' office, striding angrily back across the compound.
"Bordon!" Tavington called out. "There you are! Where have you been?" Not waiting for a reply, he plunged on, "I cannot believe how stupid Cornwallis is! You simply will not believe what he's done now!"
Knowing that Tavington was wound up, Bordon remained silent, waiting for his commanding officer to continue.
"Ban Tarleton does me the favour of capturing several of Benjamin Martin's men, including his son, and what does that pompous ass Cornwallis do? He turns the entire lot of them loose! And before we can conduct any intensive interrogations!" Stabbing the air with his index finger for emphasis, Tavington continued, "When I went to ask him why he'd done this, he told me it was a Christmas amnesty gesture." Tavington spat scornfully at this notion. "We'll never win this war with that kind of soft headed sentiment!"
Having spent his ire, Tavington looked at Bordon for the first time, noticing his rumpled uniform. "What's the matter, Bordon? Did you sleep in your clothes?" With a wicked grin, thinking of the night of passion he'd had the night before, he continued, "I can assure you that I most certainly did not spend the night in my clothes. That woman from the party was as extraordinarily talented in bed as she was beautiful."
Noting Bordon's baleful stare, he rolled his eyes and asked, "What is it, Bordon?"
"Have you not even given a thought as to how Mrs Martin spent last night?" he demanded, barely controlling his fury. "She discovered you in bed with that woman when I escorted her back from the party."
"I can't see how this is any of your business," Tavington snapped. "Or Anne's, for that matter. It's not as if I'm married to her."
"My God, man, she's about to give birth to your child!" Bordon exclaimed. "Or have you forgotten that?"
"Actually, I have given the matter some thought," Tavington said casually. "It's time to send Mrs Martin back to her husband, I think. I've adequately made my point to the Martins, so it's time to move on. It was quite pleasurable to...educate....her, but it's gotten tiresome. She is awfully young, after all, and she's beginning to bore me."
Bordon was speechless with disgust. Tavington's cavalier attitude about Anne sickened him.
"She's within weeks of giving birth!" Bordon had finally found his voice. "You just can't turn her out at the gates of the fort!"
Tavington rolled his eyes in annoyance. "I have no intention of doing any such thing," he said. "In fact, considering that you are so concerned about the fate of Mrs Martin, why don't you escort her home?"
"You would allow that?" Bordon asked, incredulous.
"Of course," Tavington said offhandedly. "I don't hate the woman, nor do I wish her any harm." After a pause, he added, "And there is the little matter of her carrying my child, which makes her safety that much more important to me."
"When can I take her?"
"Right away," Tavington said. "She won't be able to travel much longer."
"I'll go tell her." Bordon said.
"No," Tavington said. "It is my place to tell her." As almost an afterthought, he said softly, "And I want to say goodbye to her in private."
Bordon looked at Tavington closely. As much as it galled him to admit it, it seemed as if the man cared more than he was willing to admit.
"You may take five men along with you," Tavington told him. "Plus, the slave woman, Sally, will accompany you to see to any personal needs Anne might have."
"Yes, sir," he replied, his voice deliberately bland.
Bordon did not dare express the conflicting thoughts that were running through his mind at that moment. As much as he hated to see Anne leave, he knew she was better off with her husband than remaining with the philandering, cold-hearted Tavington. Bordon's only hope was to remain available to pick up the pieces in the instance that Anne's husband was unwilling to accept her back after she'd been with Tavington all these months.
"You have two hours to make preparations," he said briskly. "We will meet you back here then." Tavington was already walking off in the direction of his quarters.
Five minutes later, he opened the door to his room and found Anne sitting by the window, facing away from him. She did not acknowledge Tavington's presence in any way. As he walked over to her, he noted her tear-stained cheeks.
"Anne," he said softly as he put his hands on her shoulders, then reached up to brush a tear from her face.
She remained silent, but continued to twist the handkerchief she held in her lap.
"I have some good news for you," he said.
She looked up at him for the first time, waiting for him to continue.
"Come over here and sit by me and I'll tell you," he said, taking her hand and leading her over to the bed.
"I've decided to let you go back to your husband," he said after they'd seated themselves at the end of the bed. Leaning over to kiss her tenderly, he said, "Merry Christmas, Anne."
"Just like that?" Anne asked, not quite believing him. Looking at him with narrowed eyes, she said, "Oh, I think I understand now. It would be rather awkward for you take a new mistress when your old one is still around, great with child."
Tavington sighed in irritation. He despised jealous women. However, he wanted to end it with Anne with as little fuss as possible.
Leaning his forehead against hers, he put his arms around her. "You know it cannot work out between us in the long run," he said earnestly. Kissing her again, he continued, ""You aren't in love with me; that's just your pride talking."
"You're right," she admitted. "You know, all this time I've been with you, I've dreamed of this day, when I'd finally get to go home to Gabriel. But now that it's going to happen, I'm scared. I'm afraid he won't want me back because I'm carrying your child."
"If he doesn't, then perhaps he doesn't love you as much as you thought he did," Tavington said. "Do you doubt his love for you?"
"No. Not really. I'm not sure." Anne wasn't sure about anything any more.
"Let's not talk any more," Tavington said, easing Anne back onto the bed. "Let's say goodbye properly...something for you to remember me by."
"I think you've given me quite enough to remember you by," Anne said with a cynical laugh as she placed his hand on her stomach at the precise moment the baby chose to kick.
"Oh!" he said, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "He's an active little fellow, isn't he?"
"You could say that," she said. "The kicking keeps me awake most nights."
"Just like his father, hmm?"
"Oh, yes." Anne said, finally giving him a wan smile. "No doubt about that."
With his arms still around Anne, Tavington kissed her hungrily as he began to slowly undress her.
As the familiar feelings of pleasure began washing over her, Anne's anger at him melted away like snow in the morning sun. She clung desperately to Tavington as he started making love to her, urging him on. The sex was hard and furious, their passion spent quickly. Afterwards, they lay side by side, both panting raggedly.
A few minutes later, Tavington got out of bed and walked to the window, still naked. Several mounted dragoons were milling about near a waiting carriage in the courtyard. Captain Bordon stood talking to the carriage's driver, while Anne's maidservant, Sally was placing packages inside the carriage.
"It looks as if Bordon is nearly ready to leave," Tavington said. Looking back at Anne who was sitting on the side of the bed, he continued, "Time to get ready to go, my sweet."
"All right," she said hesitantly.
A short time later, Tavington helped Anne up into the carriage, where Sally already sat waiting for her. Standing outside the open carriage door, he handed her a large sum of money and said, "If you need anything at all for the baby or yourself, have word sent and I will see to it. If you need my protection, never hesitate to ask for it." Taking her hands, he leaned forward and gave her a last, tender kiss. "Remember me," he whispered in her ear. After Anne gave him a long, penetrating gaze, he stepped back suddenly, turned and hurried away, without looking back.
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A/N "By blow" is eighteenth century slang to refer to a child born out of wedlock. It was a somewhat more polite way of referring to such a child than "bastard", but not quite so genteel as the euphemism, "natural child".
Next chapter: Bittersweet Homecoming