"Are you sure that you're up to this?" Tavington asked Caroline the morning of James Wilkins' funeral. "Perhaps you should stay here and rest. I can convey your condolences to Mrs Wilkins just as well."

Tavington would have preferred to have skipped the funeral entirely, but as the man's commanding officer, it would have been a serious breach of military etiquette for him not to attend. He would go and do his duty, but no more than that.

"Yes, I'm up to it," Caroline said firmly. "Deborah Wilkins has been such a good friend to me and I'd never forgive myself if I didn't stand by her in her time of need. I must go."

The young woman had entirely forgotten about her husband's threat to take revenge on Captain Wilkins, thus it had never occurred to her that the Captain's death had been anything other than being killed in battle.

Tavington sighed in resignation. He could forbid her to go, but he didn't think it was worth the effort. He could afford this small gesture to keep the peace between them.

"Shall we go, then?" he said. "The service starts in ten minutes and I don't want to call attention to ourselves by arriving late."

"By all means," she said. "Let me check on Jane one last time before we go, though."

He followed his wife into the nursery, where Mary, a camp follower who had recently given birth, was nursing the baby. He made a silent note to himself to find a more suitable wet nurse for little Jane, perhaps one of the indentured servants around the fort. Tavington had lain with Mary several times in the past before becoming attached to Jane, and the young woman had dropped some not so subtle hints that she would like him to start visiting her tent again.

Tavington was not entirely averse to the idea, especially considering that Caroline was so close to her time of confinement and she'd be unable to engage in relations for several weeks after their baby was born. He would most definitely need some relief during that time if he wished not to become short tempered with his young wife and also his men.

Nevertheless, it was essential to him to keep any whoring separate from his family life, no matter how convenient it would have been to install Mary into their suite for his personal pleasure. Nor did he wish for the doxy to fall in love with him; he intended to keep it strictly business between them. He was also determined not to sire any more bastards, as Mary was of a different character altogether from Jane.

After the couple was satisfied that the baby would be fine while they were at the funeral, they headed for the chapel on the other side of the fort, which had a sad, forlorn little cemetery behind it.

"Are you warm enough?" Tavington asked Caroline absently as they made their way carefully down the wagon-rutted path that led to the church. It was a grey, blustery day, with dark, ominous clouds that promised rain some time later that day.

"Yes, I'm fine, William," she said. "I'm actually glad to get outside for some fresh air."

They were among the last to arrive for the funeral. Generals Cornwallis and O'Hara were in attendance, along with Ban Tarleton and Captain Bordon, plus nearly all the dragoons who were not presently on duty.

Tavington guided Caroline to a pew to sit by Ban Tarleton with Bordon on the other side.

The service began shortly after they'd seated themselves and it was mercifully short. Tavington was glad not to be called upon to give any sort of eulogy. He imagined that this was Deborah Wilkins' doing, as she was no doubt aware of her husband's antipathy toward him.

After the service, Caroline turned to her husband and said in a low voice, "I'm going to pay my respects to Deborah and say goodbye to her." The grieving widow had decided to leave the fort and return to their farm, then to their home in Charlestown as there was no longer any reason for her to remain.

"Fine," he said. "I'll wait here for you. I need to discuss a few things with Bordon, anyway."

"Oh, Caroline, I'm so glad you could make it," Deborah Wilkins told her a few moments later. "It means so much to have you here. Jim always spoke so highly of you."

"I'm so sorry for your loss," Caroline said, hugging the older woman. "And I'm going to miss you terribly. I hope you'll consent to write to me."

"Of course I will," Deborah said, giving her a sad smile. "And I hate to leave you here without a friend. I hope and pray that you'll be all right."

"I'll be fine," she said. "William and I are getting along much better now than we did at first. The baby has made such a difference."

"I'm happy to hear that, truly," the other woman said. "Knowing that, I won't worry about you so much."

"I don't wish to impose on you, but could you please give my Aunt Charlotte a message if you happen to see her?" Caroline asked.

"Surely," Deborah said. "I would be glad to."

"Please tell her that I'm doing well and that I miss her and Father, and the rest of the family," she said. "Tell her that I'm keeping them in my thoughts and prayers and I hope to see them one day again when this horrible war is over."

"Consider it done," Deborah told her warmly.

"Good luck to you," the younger woman said. "May God go with you."

---

Three weeks later, Caroline Tavington awakened her husband in the middle of the night. "I think it's time, William!" she said as she leaned over in bed to shake him awake.

"Hmm?" Tavington's mind was still cobwebbed with sleep.

"The baby!" Caroline said urgently. "I think it's coming! I've been having pains for hours." She had held off telling her husband until she was sure of what was happening.

Tavington was wide awake now. Sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed, he said, "Wait here. I'll go send for the doctor and the midwife."

Caroline laughed softly. "I'm not going anywhere." As she watched Tavington quickly pull on his breeches and button them up, she added, "But hurry, please."

"I'll be back as soon as possible," he said. "I'll go get Colleen first and have her sit with you until I get back." Colleen was the wet nurse he'd finally engaged, who had replaced Mary, and was asleep in the next room with the baby girl.

"All right," Caroline said, as she tensed up for another wave of pain. She was glad that they'd hired Colleen, as the young woman had made Caroline's life easier in many ways. Now that Deborah Wilkins had left the fort, Caroline needed Colleen more than ever. The young woman sorely regretted that her Aunt Charlotte and her father could not be here with her now, but was sufficiently distracted by the pain of labour that she did not spend much time brooding about it.

By the time Tavington returned with the doctor and the midwife, Caroline was well into labour, with the pains coming three minutes apart. After a quick examination, the doctor turned to Tavington with a smile. "Everything is in order, Colonel and I can assure you that this will be a smooth delivery," he said. "Both mother and baby are doing fine."

"Thank you, doctor," Tavington said, obviously relieved. In the back of his mind, he'd feared that Caroline might die in childbirth as Jane had, though rationally he knew that this wasn't likely because of his young wife's glowing good health.

As they spoke, a cry came from the other room. Colleen, who had been sitting by Caroline, rose and said, "I'll be back shortly, Mrs Tavington. I need to go feed the baby."

"Take your time, Colleen," she said. "I'll be fine now."

After the young Irish woman had disappeared into the next room, Tavington sat with Caroline for about fifteen minutes, then went in to check on his daughter, as the doctor had said it could be several hours before his wife gave birth. Colleen was sitting in a rocker in the corner with little Jane up on her shoulder, burping her, as Tavington entered the room.

"Give her to me and I'll hold her for awhile," Tavington said to the wet nurse. "Go make up the other crib and have it ready for when Mrs Tavington gives birth."

"Right away, sir." The young woman refastened her bodice, then rose to do the colonel's bidding.

Tavington rocked his daughter, holding her close, for nearly an hour. As he gazed down at her little face, a lump caught in his throat. The baby girl had little wisps of the same auburn hair as her mother and would no doubt grow to resemble her. He didn't realize how much he still missed Jane until this moment. While he continued to rock her, memories of his time with Jane Thompson washed over him, with tears coming unbidden into his eyes.

The sharp sound of a baby's cry from the other room brought him back to the present. He rose, then gently placed his daughter back into her crib, then quickly wiped any trace of tears from the corners of his eyes.

"You have a son," the midwife told him with a smile as he returned to the bedroom.

"A son?" he said, a silly grin spreading across his face.

"Come see our son, William," Caroline said with a tired smile as the midwife placed the baby in her arms. The young woman looked down in loving awe at the squalling red faced infant she held.

Moving to sit by his wife on the bed, he murmured, "He's absolutely perfect, Caroline."

He also noted with relief that Caroline, with her sweat stained shift and greasy hair had obviously been through quite an ordeal in labour, but her steady voice and sparkling eyes assured him of her continuing good health.

"He looks just like you," she said softly. "He definitely has your eyes." With a shy smile, she added, "I thought we'd name him after you: William Jeremiah Tavington, Jr."

Tavington nodded in agreement, saying, "I think I like that idea." He reached out to gingerly take the baby's tiny hand into his own. With the other, he took Caroline's hand. "Thank you, Caroline, for our son."

Caroline did not reply, but looked up at her husband with a warm feeling of contentment. A relationship begun in sorrow had now turned into one of love and hope. Seven months ago, she'd entered unwillingly into marriage with William Tavington, now she looked forward to spending the rest of her life by his side.

--
Next Chapter: Epilogue