The Thing About Gossip Is

Colin marched up the steps of the Tisdale manor and rapped smartly on the large oak door. Several hours had passed since his confrontation with Bordon but he was still furious over the turn of events. It had been most gratifying, informing Cilla that she was allowed to attend his wedding, she had teared up instantly and Colin had known he'd made the right decision. But now he had the unpleasant task of informing his gentle betrothed that in order to invite Cilla, he'd been forced to invite a Goddamned strumpet.

A large African opened the door and Colin was admitted into the house.

Harmony was nice enough, he conceded as he walked into the house. Friendly, had a willing smile for everyone and a quick wit as well. But he had visited the tavern where she worked, he'd drank ale and played cards with the Middleton twins, Simms and Wilkins several times. He'd seen her wafting from table to table, had seen the men groping her rump as she leaned across them to place jugs of ale or bottles of wine before them. She usually laughed and shoved their hands away, waggled a finger at them in admonishment before wafting away to serve at another table where she was groped all over again.

And this was the quality of woman who would be at his wedding?

The Tisdale parlor was large and warm - welcoming. The fire was not lit - it was far too hot even at night to have a fire burning. Candles in the wall sconces and on every flat surface made the room bright and cheery. It did not match his mood - not at all.

Colin was not surprised to see Captain Trellim and his cohort Banksia were already there. With Mark Putman imprisoned, Mr. Tisdale's manor had become a headquarters for the Patriots who had been placed within Tavington's ranks.

Spies.

Tisdale himself had made it clear to Colin that Tavington's conduct with his wife - Vera Tisdale - had lost any Loyalty the Crown could have hoped to enjoy from him. It had been a simple thing for Colin to convince his future father in law to allow the Patriot spies to use his house for their meetings.

Mary smiled up at him from the chaise. Colin's breath caught, his anger began to melt as he stepped deeper into the room and sat beside her, taking both her hands in his. He pressed her fingers to his lips then draped one arm across her shoulders to draw her close. Trellim and Banksia nodded a greeting, both men seemed on edge as though waiting for something. Or someone. Mr. Tisdale sat across from them with a leather bound book in his hand. Colin met his eyes over Mary's head.

"Is something amiss, son?" Mr. Adam Tisdale asked. "You look ready to chew rocks."

Mary's contended smile slipped and she drew back to study Colin carefully.

"What's wrong?" She asked with a concerned tone.

Colin blew out a heavy breath.

"The damned Redcoats, thats what," Colin muttered. "Mary, Cilla was distraught over not being able to attend the wedding -"

"Oh, I know. It's terrible, Beth won't be there and I won't have Cilla either!" Mary began to wring her hands in her lap, her eyes welled with tears. "I know I'll have Rebecca and Sarah but I miss Beth so much!"

"I know. Dear heart, while I can't possibly find a way for Beth to be at the wedding -" he paused as a stab of fury jolted through him. Beth had been his closest companion growing up along the Santee and it infuriated him that circumstances had taken her from him - the one woman he would have wanted above all others at his wedding. And it all came back to Lieutenant Colonel Fucking Tavington and the Goddamned Redcoats! Suppressing his fury, he continued in a mild tone, "I've managed to organise for Miss Putman to attend."

Mary placed both hands over her mouth and gasped.

"Truly?" She cried, then threw her arms around Colin's neck. "Oh, Colin! That's wonderful."

"It comes at a cost, however," Colin ground out. He pursed his lips and gently pried himself loose from her slim but surprisingly strong arms. Sitting back to gaze down at her, he gathered his nerve and said, "I was forced to allow Captain Bordon to bring his mistress, Miss Jutland."

The room grew so quiet, Colin imagined he could hear the crackling flame from the many candles dancing on their wicks. Pure fantasy, of course. All eyes were on him, but it was Mr. Tisdale who spoke first, in a very cold and hard voice.

"You were forced to do what?"

"I'm sorry, Sir," Colin said apologetically. "But I had to allow it - or we would have been denied Miss Putman."

Adam was quiet for several moments, then he leaned forward menacingly.

"It was bad enough that I had that woman here in this house - rogering Bordon only a door away from my daughter's chamber!" His voice rose, he was clearly incensed. "While my wife fucked Tavington in his!"

Mary gasped, her fingers at her throat.

"Sir, please! Not in front of Mary!" Colin protested hotly and Adam tightened his lips, striving for calm.

"Forgive me, Mary," he said to his daughter.

"That's alright, father," Mary said a little breathlessly.

"Mary, it's the only way - I am so sorry," Colin said earnestly, shifting his gaze to Mary.

"Colin, I want Cilla there, I truly do. The horrible thing is, when I first met Miss Jutland, I really quite liked her! She does not behave as I'd image a... a mistress to behave, so perhaps all will be well."

Banksia scoffed. "It's not as though she'll start dancin' on the tables, if that's what you're fearin'."

"No, I am certain she will conduct herself in a manner which will do us all proud," Colin shot back, his voice thick with sarcasim.

"Yes, just don't allow the other guests to pat her bottom," Trellim said primly.

"Ah, but it's such a nice, firm bottom," Banksia quipped. "I've patted her many a time and she's given me such a lovely smile for my troubles. Bordon's a lucky bast... Ah, that is, Bordon's lucky, is what."

Even Mary knew that Banksia had been about to say 'bastard'.

"Sweet Lord above, what sort of woman is she to allow such?" Tisdale's bellow took them all by surprise. "This is absurd, to expect us to -"

"Sir!" Colin protested, knowing that Tisdale was about to forbid Harmony from attending. "I know what you would say and I could not agree more. But as it was pointed out to me, not many will know that Miss Jutland is Bordon's mistress - they will merely think he is courting her. I am certain she will behave appropriately and if we forbid her from coming then Miss Putman misses out and that I simply can not allow."

The two men locked gazed and Mary held her breath as she waited. Her father had a muley, stubborn expression on his face and she just knew he was about to hold firm, such was his hatred for Redcoats since his humiliation at Tavington's hands.

"Father, I don't mind, I truly don't," she told him. "I agree with Colin. Miss Jutland - I've seen her at formal affairs and she does conduct herself respectfully. I want Cilla there, Papa - please, don't gainsay this."

Adam blew out a heavy breath but he eventually nodded with defeat.

"Very well," he muttered. "But those damned Redcoats, thinking they can blackmail and bargain! I doubt that Tavington would expect his British born Gentlemen to make such concessions! They would not be forced to accept mistresses and courtesans at their weddings!"

"That's what I said," Colin agreed. "Actually, Tavington did too. He took me by surprise, seeing that he's got that Linda in his bed still. She's become his mistress now."

"No!" Banksia hooted and smacked his leg. "Agh - not Linda Stokes, from the tavern where Miss Jutland works! I've lost count of the times I've..." He paused, shooting Mary an apologetic glance. For her benefit, he modified what he was about to say. Instead of 'I've rogered that pretty cunny of hers for the cost of a few guineas', he said "ah - yeh, I've lost count of the times I've spent an enjoyable evening with her... For a handful of coins, if you take my meaning."

Mary was aghast. However, while she indeed took his meaning well, it was the discovery that Tavington's mistress had been a prostitute that shocked her.

"Dear Lord!" She cried. "He is bedding a… whore? He's supposed to be a Gentleman! That... That... Oh, I don't know of a word strong enough to describe him!"

"A good thing you don't," Tisdale said and sniffed primly. "He better not be thinking of taking that one to the wedding! I'll damn well draw the line there!"

"No, Sir," Colin assured him. "In fact, he seemed quite shocked that Bordon wanted to take Miss Jutland. He went on to say that Bordon needed to learn the difference between wives and mistresses. There is no fear that Tavington will bring Miss Stokes."

"I still can't get over him taking her as a mistress," Banksia chortled. "I know so many whose been with her!"

"You haven't, I hope!" Mary said coldly to Colin. His eyes widened with shock and he stammered.

"No! Mary - you know I haven't... That is... I've never…" his eyes flickered with embarrassment toward the other men. He lowered his voice as he continued, "Mary! How could you say such a thing?"

Banksia chortled again. He wanted to rib Colin for declaring himself a virgin but decided to behave himself in front of Mary.

Tisdale and Trellim were far more serious.

"My daughter's wedding," Tisdale mused, his eyes locked on Trellim's. "They show us utter disrespect, these Redcoats. Why didn't I see it before?'

"They hide their true selves behind their Redcoats, thats why," Trellim replied. "They are Gentleman on the facade, only."

"That reminds me," Colin spluttered, furious all over again. He began to rage. "Bordon let slip that while he would conduct himself as a Gentleman back in England, he is amongst Colonial aristocracy now. I believe he thinks he can treat with our women however he sees fit, because he does not see them true Ladies!"

"Of course he believes that," Tisdale snapped. "So does Tavington - who bedded my wife the first night he resided in my home! He does not believe we Colonials are deserving of respect at all!"

Mary watched nervously as the four of them began to discuss their opinions and experiences in a heated tone. She was glad that heavy parlor doors were closed from prying ears. She would not want her servants repeating some of the things these men were saying about Tavington, to Tavington himself. He frightened her no end, especially after being cornered by him and being told in no uncertain terms that she was never, ever to spread gossip about him again. His eyes had been so cold and hard, he'd seemed as though he was restraining himself against a violent need to lash out.

She had, she didn't mind admitting to herself, actually been afraid for her person! And never mind that it had been her duty to Beth, to inform her friend of the Officer's horrid intentions!

::::::

"What we need, Gentleman, is Mr. Mark Putman!" Colin said hotly. Mary was pulled abruptly from her revery and she stared at Colin, white faced with fear. "We can not leave him languishing in jail!"

"That we can't, boy," Trellim said firmly. "We have a plan in place already. But what we need is a Redcoat - a proper one - a British man born and bred."

"Private Watson," Colin and Banksia said in unison.

"Private Nicholas Watson," Trellim agreed. "He will be here shortly, we were waiting for him when you arrived."

"And the plan?" Colin asked. He tried to hide the thrill of fear and nervous excitement flashing through him. It felt so good, so right, to be doing something to help Mark but at the same time it set him on edge. Christ, if they were caught...

He shuddered, then drew a deep breath and hardened his resolve. Fishing in his despised Redcoat, he drew forth a pilfered parchment and handed it to Trellim. "I've done my part. It's one of Tavington's reports, written in his hand, with his signature at the bottom. I snatched it from the table when Bordon was arguing with Tavington."

"Well done!" Trellim praised as to took the parchment and had a long hard look at the signature. "This will do perfectly, what do you think Banksia? Can you forge the Butcher's hand writing?"

Banksia took the parchment and began to study it.

"I thought that we could write the order to include Mr. Putman as well," Colin said, referring to Trellim's plan.

They needed an example of Tavington's handwriting and signature in order to forge a command demanding Mr. Edward Rutledge's release. It would be a simple matter to add Putman's name on the order as well. The written order, coupled with a British Officer (Watson) should be all they needed for the command to appear authentic enough for the unwary guards at the jail cells. Trellim had organised a group of eight Patriots so far unknown to Tavington, to accompany Watson. The men would wear pilfered Redcoats, accompany Watson to the cells and if luck was on their side, they would be leaving with Rutledge and Putman.

A simple plan as far as rescues go, but deadly to those involved if they were caught.

"This will do nicely," Banksia confirmed.

"Good," Trellim then turned to Colin. "I agree - it will be easy enough to put Putman's name on the written orders. It is the timing that I am afraid of."

"Me too, we'll need to get Mrs. Putman and Cilla away as well - we can't leave them in Redcoat hands."

"No we can't. We'll have to time it perfectly so the two coincide. I will need time to think of how we'll get Mrs. Putman out. In the meantime however, Banksia, you will need to get to work copying Tavington's handwriting and practicing to forge his signature."

Trellim turned to Mr. Tisdale. "Thank you for allowing us to meet here, we had need of a safe location for these discussions."

"Not at all, though I could wish Mary had not heard what she has heard this evening," Tisdale sighed heavily. "I do not want my daughter put at risk. I am beginning to think it is quite foolish, sending her to camp with you, Colin. When you're married, that is. If you are caught - what will become of Mary?"

"Oh, Papa, don't say it," Mary answered for Colin with a shudder. "I want to stay with Colin, despite the dangers."

"Hmm," Tisdale murmured, his eyes lingered on Mary and Colin's intertwined hands. "I know you do. Trellim, how quickly can you put this plan in place? I'd like to see Rutledge and Putman freed."

"We'll make a Patriot of you yet," Banksia declared and the former Loyalist Tisdale smiled politely.

"I'll admit I do not ask the question entirely out of my new found leanings toward Independence," Tisdale murmured. "But out of the need to ingratiate myself with Governor Rutledge.

Banksia chuckled indulgently. "Good enough for me."

"As soon as possible," Trellim answered Adam's question. "Putman faces a hanging if Tavington can get enough evidence of his 'treasonous' activities. Nevertheless, rescuing his family might complicate the plan and it could very well fall apart around our ears."

"I understand," Tisdale agreed.

Colin shifted uneasily in his seat. He swallowed and gazed at the men, wondering if he should tell them what he had over heard about Mage and Bordon, or leave it well enough alone.

"Out with it," Banksia barked, seeing Colin's uncertainty.

"Well... It's just..." Colin sighed heavily. "It's something I heard Tavington saying when I approached him this afternoon with regards to Cilla attending the wedding. As I came into the dining room, he was saying to Bordon, 'I'm still livid with you by the way, that you managed to get beneath her skirts instead of I.' "

"Whose skirts?" Trellim frowned and Colin blushed. Of course the men could not follow his train of thought and he had not told them who he was speaking of.

"Ah... Well... they were speaking of Mage Putman."

"Dear Christ!" Tisdale snapped while Trellim and Banksia exchanged worried glances.

"Are you certain? Perhaps he was lying or perhaps you heard wrong -"

"No Captain Trellim," Colin hung his head. "I wish I was."

"Jesus Christ," Banksia muttered.

Colin glanced at Mary, whose mouth had fallen open with shock.

"You see?" Tisdale barked suddenly. "They treat our women with utter disrespect - seducing married women left, right and centre! It's despicable! Then again - how stupid is Mrs. Putman, to allow herself to be seduced? What the Devil is Putman going to make of it?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Trellim replied heavily. "For now, lets just concentrate on freeing him."

::::::::::

At the same time as the spies were meeting at the Tisdale residence, Wilkins and the boys were stumbling into their third bar for the evening. Each one of them was well and truly on the way to being completely and utterly crocked.

Simms slammed the heavy oak door shut behind him and the other patrons - already sitting around tables and playing rounds of Faro, turned with frowns and scowls.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he stumbled after his friends.

Most of the Patrons wore Redcoats, but some of them were Loyalist men in normal gear, hoping to become acquainted with the British soldiers. Many of them wished to join the elite Green Dragoons, but Tavington was rather selective. He took only the best riders and shooters, placing the rest of his Loyalist recruits in his infantry.

Wilkins stumbled past the rows of tables looking for a place for him and his boys to sit when he caught sight of the Lieutenant Colonel himself, sitting with Bordon and a few others, already playing a round.

"Tavington!" Wilkins called out with delight. "Bordon!" He stumbled toward the table and collapsed into a chair uninvited. The Middleton boys and Simms following suit.

"Deal them in," Tavington commanded and cards began to fly across the table toward Wilkins and the boys.

"Mighty kind of you," Wilkins quipped. "How you doing over there, Captain Bordy? Your got that temper under control?"

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you Captain Wilky," Bordon rolled his eyes. If too many of the men heard Wilkins calling Bordon 'Bordy' the epithet would surely stick. He chose to ignore it for now. "How much have you had to drink, James?'

"Lost count," Wilkins shrugged carelessly. He had to hold his cards close to his face and cross his eyes to see them better - he was seeing double of everything. Then he smiled appreciatively, he had been a rather good hand.

Bordon glanced at Tavington and smirked.

"Wilkins is giving himself away," he whispered. "I can read him like a book. I think we'll win some sovereigns from these wealthy and soused Loyalists tonight."

"I dare say," Tavington smiled. "Just keep your temper. After your outburst this afternoon, Wilkins is going to put you through your paces, I suspect. He likes to taunt, he does."

"As long as Harmony doesn't over hear," Bordon glanced around and spied his mistress serving at table. "It will distress her to know I had to wrangle to get a bloody invitation for her."

"I think it will distress her even more if she over hears them speaking about your tryst with Mrs. Putman," Tavington murmured back. "No doubt they all know of it by now."

Bordon's eyes widened in shock.

"Agh, cock and balls, you're right!" He lamented. "Perhaps I should simply leave before Wilkins gets a chance to blurt that out when Harm is close enough to hear."

"Hmm, perhaps," Tavington sniffed. "It would serve you right for stealing my quarry out from under me."

"You still harping on about that? I'm telling you, Mrs. Putman would not have bedded you!"

"Oh ye of little faith," William smirked. "My charms and abilities are far greater than you could possibly imagine."

Bordon rolled his eyes again. It heartened him to hear the Commander banter again, almost like his former self. William's pleasure over Beth's warning letter to Arthur Simms a few days previous had been short lived. Tavington had soon slipped into his dark mood again - Miss Martin had truly gotten under his skin. Until this evening, Bordon had been increasingly concerned for him.

"Another round then we'll leave," Tavington said.

Prior to Wilkins abrupt entrance, the tavern had been at a low din. A hum of men talking, laughing, drinking. With Wilkins arrival, and the other lads to be sure, the clamour had risen several octaves. James was already regaling the other Officers at their table with a story of some conquest or other - he was well known for not keeping to his wife's bed. The others were laughing and he spoke increasingly louder to be heard over the Officer's guffaws.

"You're leaving with me?" Bordon asked, throwing down a card.

"Hmm, I'll collect Linda on the way," he fixed Bordon with a stern eye. "Seeing that you've had your way with Mrs. Putman."

"Christ, you're not going to let it go, are you?"

"Not in a hundred years."

"Huh - you should visit her in the dark tonight, pretend to be me. The same as we did to Vera Tisdale - putting Ban in her bed."

"The Hell I will!" Tavington said with mock outrage. "She'll damn well know it if I am to roger her."

"Roger who?" Wilkins called across the table. Too late Tavington realised he had spoken a tad too loudly. "Who are you to roger, then? Out with it."

"Your sister," Bordon called back. The men exploded with laughter, James included.

"She has more sense," Wilkins chortled while the men still sniggered. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Harmony was not in hearing distance, then leaned forward, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not like Mrs. Putman, I hear. Quite the conquest, I take my hat off to you, Sir."

Bordon scowled, but only half heartedly. He'd never intended to keep his seduction of Mage to himself, after all. He just wished they could discuss it anywhere except the tavern in which Harmony happened to be working!

"At least he has the ware withal to check for Miss Jutland before shooting his mouth off," Tavington observed to Bordon.

"Sir! I'd say nothing that would compromise Captain Bordy's happiness with the beautiful Miss Jutland," Wilkins declared, then turned his bleary eyed gaze to Bordon with a lusty smile. "No matter how much I'd like her to be free of you so I can roger her myself."

"Roger you? She has more sense," Bordon quipped loftily, mimicking Wilkins words and tone from a few moments ago.

"Clearly, she does not have more sense!" Wilkins laughed. "Seeing that she's bedding you!"

"And who, exactly, might you be speaking about, Captain Wilkins?" A woman asked tartly behind him.

Wilkins whirled in his chair and found himself face to face with Harmony Jutland. She stood over him, holding an empty jug in one hand, her other hand on her hip and her foot tapping with irritation.

"Ah, Miss Jutland -" James began but Harmony cut him off.

"You were speaking of Captain Bordon bedding someone, weren't you?" She arched a brow. "Someone without sense."

Bordon chortled, sensing Wilkins was about to get the tongue lashing of a lifetime. The other men fell quiet, amused, to watch Wilkins shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"Ah, yes," Wilkins tried to turn on the charm. "I was merely expressing my jealousy, Miss Jutland. You are quite a vision after all."

"A vision who lacks sense?" Harmony asked pointedly. "Am I…" she tapped her lip with one finger, pretending to search for the right words, "a stupid vision then?"

"No! Not at all!" Wilkins cried. "I assure you, I believe you are as intelligent as you are beautiful."

Harmony shifted her gaze past Wilkins to the chuckling Bordon across the table.

"Dear heart," she said to him. "He really is quite lucky this jug is empty," she held the jug high then upended it slowly above James' head. If it had been full, Wilkins would've been drenched with ale just then.

"I dare say," Bordon sniggered. "Though I am certain you can find another use for it - you could smack it over his head."

"Indeed I could!" Harmony agreed, she widened her eyes with exaggerated comprehension. "Though I was too stupid to think of that myself," she continued with a pointed look at Wilkins.

Harmony then tightened her grip threateningly on the jug and Wilkins waved his hands up in surrender.

"Please! Save my poor head, Miss Jutland. I beg for your mercy. I meant no such thing - merely that you are beautiful and intelligent and utterly wasted on Bordon."

Harmony scoffed and wafted away from them while the men exploded with more laughter and began teasing Wilkins unmercifully.

"Phew - she is a handful." He wiped a hand over his brow in feigned relief.

"She's my handful and don't you forget it," Bordon said lightly.

"Lord - she's too much for me! She's all yours! Dear Lord though - she's an excitable thing," Wilkins muttered, then a sparkle of mischief entered his eyes. "Tell me, how is she in the -"

"Enough!" Bordon roared with outrage. "Jesus Christ, you don't know when to shut it, do you?"

"- In the sack," Wilkins finished. Scoring a hit, he preened smugly while the others laughed.

His smug expression turned to a scowl, he was losing the hand at a very fast rate.

This lifted Bordon's spirits of course, for even if he did not win the hand, he would take great enjoyment at watching Wilkins lose. Which James did, when Tavington took his turn and showed his hand by placing his cards on the table. William had won the round, the coins in the middle of the table were his.

"Thank you very much, Gentlemen," he preened as he pulled the coins toward him, then rose from his seat. "It's been most agreeable."

This announcement was met with a chorus of protests from all of the Officers, not just James.

"You're not leaving!"

"No - that was the last of my coin!"

"Come now - one more hand!"

Tavington laughed and shook his head.

"I'm afraid not, Gentlemen. A good evening to you all."

"Simms, escort Harmony home would you?" Bordon asked. "She finishes in an hour."

"Yes, Sir," Arthur slurred.

As the two left, the men at the table heard Tavington telling Bordon he would fetch Linda and they'd be on their way.

"Christ, you should hear the two of them," Private Brownlow began gossiping at once. A few of the Officers, Corporal Simms included, resided with Tavington and Bordon at the Putman residence. "She screams like she's being caned."

"That is because she is being caned," Ensign Dalton snickered. "I've heard she likes it!"

"What of him - bellowing like he does? Surely he wouldn't let her do it to him? Not Tavington!"

"I don't know, but I happened to glance down at his wrists when he was pulling his gloves on this morning and his skin was red and grazed like he'd been bound!"

The men guffawed and chortled.

"I would never let a woman tie me up, even that pretty Linda," Wilkins bantered. "I'm not one for rough play, myself."

"I'll bet he's sore over Miss Martin leaving," Marcus Middleton said wistfully. "Linda's got not a patch on Beth for beauty,"

"Oh-ho!" Wilkins cried. "You aren't carrying a flame for our little lass are you?"

"Perhaps a small one," Marcus smiled. "Well - don't you? I saw you flirting with her at the ball - and you're married to Arthur's sister!"

"Ah, but a married man can only be truly happy if he has a lovely mistress!" Wilkins declared.

Arthur laughed right along with the others. In his opinion, James could do no wrong. He worshipped the ground his brother in law walked on and turned a blind eye to James' many infidelities.

"Miss Martin seemed quite receptive of me that night," James continued in a boasting tone. "She flirted with me, told me she thought I was handsome. I thought I had a chance with her - I reckon I could've encouraged her to a quiet corner and spent the rest of the night kissing those lovely plump lips of hers."

"Kissing only?" Michael Middleton quipped. "I'm surprised at you, I thought you'd want more than a few stolen kisses from any girl."

"I would've tried for more, but I doubt very much Miss Martin would be the type to give it," James pinioned.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Arthur scoffed drunkenly. He regretted his words immediately as all eyes turned to him, all of them astonished and eager to hear more. "Shit on it, I shouldn't have said that," he moaned. He was too soused by far and he'd said the words before his brain could stop him.

"Well, well, well," James smiled brightly. "Me thinks my little brother has a tale to tell, lads."

"I think he does too, if you ask me," Marcus bantered. "Michael?"

His twin was nodding agreement. Brownlow and Dalton joined in eagerly.

"Do tell," James coaxed and Arthur groaned, knowing the other men were not going to let it go.

"Christ, Tavington'll kill me. And Miss Martin - she did right by me and my family, so you keep this to yourselves, mind? I like my head right where it is, safely on my shoulders."

"My lips are sealed," James said eagerly and the other men nodded, promising never to repeat a word. A hush descended over the table as they waited with bated breath for the information Arthur had to share with them. Unfortunately, Arthur had been drinking for most of the evening and he did not lower his voice as much as the situation warranted, other patrons nearby could hear his words clearly.

"It happened at the mansion, the night of the ball," Arthur confided in what he thought was a hushed tone. "Tavington came to me and told me he wanted to slip away with a young woman for a short while. I knew he meant Miss Martin, he'd barely left her side all evening, after all. I suggested my chamber and gave him the key, and directions - the most direct route is through the library and I told him it would be devoid of life seeing that most of the guests were in the ballroom or on the grounds. So when, a short while later, I saw Miss Martin disappear into the library, I was not surprised in the least."

James began chuckling as he exchanged glances with his amused companions.

"Perhaps I would have had a chance after all - if it weren't for Tavington! You've managed to keep this to yourself, little brother. I'm most disappointed in you." He said, though the rebuke was not a serious one.

"Sweet Lord above - Tavington would've killed me. Anyway - thats not the end of it," Arthur continued and the laughing men fell silent again. "Now remember, my parents wanted me to marry Miss Martin, didn't they? Well, the following morning, Mama began tearing strips off me. She said that the maids had seen 'evidence of coupling' on the comforter on my bed. She meant they had seen white stains - seed -"

James burst out laughing, unable to contain himself.

"Was there blood too?" He sniggered. "Was little Miss Beth Martin a virgin that night?"

"No blood," Arthur shook his head. "Trust you to think of that, James! So no, I don't think she was a virgin. Anyway, I couldn't deny it without exposing Tavington so I had to sit there and listen to a lecture on bedding women in my bed- under her roof!"

"Your mother's a damned dragon," Wilkins commiserated, speaking from experience, the woman being his mother in law of course.

"Hell, why do you think I've been staying with the Dragoons at the Putman's?" Arthur asked emphatically. "Anyway, get this. She asked me what Miss Martin would think of it if she found out about my debaucheries! Mama was fuming, because she thought that it would ruin my chances to marry the girl! But was Miss Martin in my chamber with Tavington, all along!"

"Oh, the irony!" Michael Middleton cried.

"So, Tavington did indeed bed little Miss Beth Martin and it was not their first time at it! That wiley old bastard!" That from Wilkins.

"I wonder when he took her virginity then?" Marcus mused, feeling somewhat dejected. "When would he have had the opportunity?"

"The public ball!" Michael announced, after much thought. "She and the other girls stayed at the Tisdale's that night, remember Marcus? Becky was one of them. And that was when Tavington was still quartered there."

"Of course!" James slapped his palm against the table top. "I'll wager you're right - he probably told her to leave her door unlocked!"

"And crept on in when everyone else had retired for the evening!"

"Ah, wouldn't that cook Old Ben Martin's goose?" James crowed. "All those years of prating that Patriot nonsense at the Assembly meetings and his daughter ups and loses her virginity to a Redcoat! I wonder if she'll give Old Ben a half Patriot, half Loyalist bastard?'

This time the tittering was not contained to Wilkins table - other patrons at the tables close by began to laugh.

Then, when they were asked what the great joke was by others too far to have heard, the tale was repeated again and again. News of "Old Ben Martin's" daughter losing her virginity to a Redcoat began to spread like wildfire through the tavern.

"Do you think that's why she fled Charles Town - was she pregnant?" Marcus asked reluctantly.

"You don't know much about the facts of nature, do you boy?" Wilkins snorted. "It would be a little too soon to tell. Perhaps Tavington refused to marry her after taking her virtue. Perhaps he got what he wanted and then he disdained her afterward. The poor dear fled with her heart broken."

"Then why'd he go after her like that?" Dalton asked in his British accent. "It wasn't to chase after Marion the Fox, I know that much. Besides, he was calling her his fiancé. He even told Marion to hand his 'fiancé' over, before the skirmish started."

"I agree," Simms said as Harmony came to their table with a tray filled with glasses and a jug of ale. "And judging by how surly he's been, I'd say she left him."

Harmony began to laugh. She placed then tray on their table then put both her hands on her hips, giving each Officer a mocking look in turn.

"Aren't you a bunch of brave ones, aye? To gossip like a cluck of old hens about Tavington when he is not here?"

"You're close to him," Wilkins said to Harmony. "How about you enlighten us, hmm? Why did Miss Martin leave Charles Town - was it -"

"Oh - ho!" Harmony cried, throwing her hands up before her. "You are not involving me, no Sir!" She laughed again and began to stride away, but a flirty Wilkins jumped up and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing her back to his chest.

"Come now, my beautiful one," he whispered close to her ear. Harmony rolled her eyes. She pushed at his hands on her stomach but they would not budge, he was far too strong. Wilkins laughed down at her, she was well and truly caught in his embrace.

"Miss Jutland, on my honor I will release you as soon as you answer my question."

"The drink has addled your wits," she said tartly. "You'll release me or my Richard will have your head."

"Just one little question, pretty please?" He coaxed. She sighed heavily and Wilkins smiled with triumph. "Why did she leave?"

"How in the world would I know that?" Harmony frowned. "I barely know Miss Martin."

"Has Tavington said anything to Bordon, that he has passed along to you?" Wilkins pressed.

"You're absurd if you think I'll break Richard's trust!" Harmony laughed. She tilted her head back to gaze up at Wilkins. "He'd have my head too!"

"So, there's nothing you can or will tell us?" Wilkins asked, disappointed. Then he realised that Harmony was not struggling in his grip, that she was gazing up at him with a small smile. Such a pretty creature, he'd desired her for the longest time. He began running his hands across her stomach over bodice. "Perhaps we can make better use of our time..."

Harmony smiled and turned in his embrace, she reached up on the tips of her toes as if to brush a kiss across Wilkins lips. Without a thought for what Bordon would think, James smiled broadly and bent his head to receive her kiss.

At the last moment, just before their lips touched, Harmony announced loftily, "no, I've changed my mind." She jerked her head back abruptly, leaving James Wilkins kissing empty air. With a laugh at his expression, she disentangled herself from his arms and began to walk away while the men at the table began tittering at Wilkins.

But a thought occurred to her and she turned back to James, her face grave.

"I've heard the talk that is spreading through the tavern, that Miss Martin lost her virginity to Tavington. There is one thing I will tell you," she said quite seriously, with no hint of her earlier amusement. "And that is Miss Martin did not bed Tavington, no matter how much 'evidence' there was on Simms' comforter."

"No?" Wilkins arched his eyebrows. "How do you know?"

"They had an argument that night, before the fireworks were let off over the mansion. I heard Miss Martin myself - when she told Tavington that she regretted stealing away with him, that she was glad she had not given him her virginity." She emphasised the last words - they were the only evidence she had to save the other girls virtue.

"Oh-ho!" Wilkins chortled. "Then it definitely was Miss Martin Tavington took to Arthur's room?"

"Yes, but..." Harmony frowned. "You're not listening! I am telling you, she is a virgin!"

"Yes, I'm certain she's a virgin," Wilkins gave her a slow wink and Harmony scowled with frustration.

"By tomorrow, all of Charles Town is going to believe otherwise and she will be ruined, her virtue destroyed!" She said passionately.

"Even if she is still a virgin - which I highly doubt - she was in Arthur's chamber alone with Tavington," Wilkins pointed out. "They could have been reading passages from the Bible to each other in there and it would make not one bit of difference."

"Sir, don't you understand how devastating this could be -" Harmony tried again but James cut her off.

"It was not so innocent, however. She carried on with Tavington, pleasured him enough that the evidence was splattered all over the bed. Either way - virgin or not, I'd say Miss Martin is quite ruined, my beautiful Miss Jutland."

He bowed to her politely and turned back to his companions, who immediately began to discuss the unlikelihood of Beth still being a virgin.

Oh well, I tried... Harmony thought sadly as she continued serving. At each table she visited, she heard the patrons speaking of Miss Martin and Tavington, alone in Arthur's bed chamber. There was nothing she could do for the girl now, the gossip had taken hold of the entire tavern. It was beyond Harmony's ability to quash, she would've had an easier time of stopping a wild fire with her bare hands.

It bothered her greatly that a woman's respectability and stature would be destroyed for no damned good reason. She had liked Beth! Harmony had always liked strong willed women over simpering fools and she had seen a lot of herself in Beth.

Nevertheless, it was as Wilkins predicted. Whether Beth bedded Tavington or merely fooled around with him, it would have made no difference. She had been alone with the Officer, in a bed chamber, and that was infraction enough.

The rumor took on a life of it's own. As drunken men stumbled from the tavern - for the next tavern or to visit a doxy or even to stumble home to their wives, they took the tale with them, embellishing it with each telling.

Of how 'Old Ben's' daughter had bedded a Redcoat. How he had refused to marry her. How she had left Charles Town all in a rush, because not only was she ruined and heartbroken, but because she had discovered she was carrying his child. Sometimes the story changed, depending on who told it.

Patriots told of how Miss Martin had rejected Tavington. She had refused his marriage proposal, fearing her father's disapproval. Then she'd fled when the Butcher became too jealous and possessive. Even still, they spoke of her opening her legs for him and that she was now carrying the Redcoat's bastard.

The following morning, Ladies of the aristocracy throughout Charles Town - Loyalist and Patriot alike - were discussing Beth's predicament over tea. Other lower born women were speaking of it at market or while they did their chores.

News traveled quickly enough within Charles Town, but gossip traveled even faster.

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A/N - to Ms A: You read the story over and over? That's so cool! I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you have the others. Thanks for another awesome review!