You guys were really quiet this week. Hopefully this chapter is more to your liking.

Chapter quote: If they had been in another place, and two different people, he would have had no qualms claiming her for his own.

Chapter 36: A Look Through His Eyes

Tavington POV

He had watched her enter into the tent housing the cooking ladies, completely oblivious to his observations. Tavington was listening to the accounts Bordon was giving him but his eyes did not want to leave the form of the girl. Absentmindedly nodding his head, he thought about the experience by the river, and how strange it was to see Stephanie relaxed and happy. She was a completely different person when he went and visited her that afternoon. She wasn't the snobbish girl at the ball, nor the hellcat militia fighter. She seemed to just be a girl enjoying a relaxing afternoon with no troubles and no strings. She seemed to be . . . free.

Dismissing Bordon to carry out some drills for the new recruits, Tavington stalked over toward the cookers tent, not quite knowing what he was going to do when he got there. He stopped outside the entrance when he heard the angry argument between Stephanie and another woman.

"…It's called walking, maybe you've heard of it?" Tavington smirked. Stephanie was definitely a spitfire, and too sarcastic for her own good.

Standing there, he would have thought from what he was hearing that Stephanie had won the little spout, however, the comeback of Mrs. Bowne, whose voice he recognized, just about sent him into the tent himself. Luckily he was saved by the commanding tone of Mrs. Cunningham who broke up what was no doubt going to be a nasty fight, and Tavington would bet everything he had that Stephanie would have come out the victor.

That thought almost made Tavington wince. When did he learn so much about the girl? To be able to predict how she would act? He knew how she thought, the way she walked, he even learned that her eyes sparkle when amused and blaze with fire when she's angry. Tavington felt that he knew far more about her than he should. How did that happen?

Tavington also came to realize, standing outside the tent and listening to the women inside, how alike he and Stephanie really were, and that was why he was attracted to her. There was no used denying it anymore; Colonel Tavington was infatuated with the rebel woman from the militia. Talk about ironic. However, maybe now that he had admitted to that fact, he could rectify it. The last thing he needed was to lose his heart to a girl who likes to argue and fight, and seems to take joy in being sarcastic and somewhat cynical.

That's what he liked about her though. She intrigued him and challenged him in ways no other woman had. Most women fall down at his feet, practically begging for attention, and yet she stood tall and straight, almost as if she was a queen and he a lowly subject. She didn't bend to his will, but had her own that she followed, and as annoying as that was at times, Tavington admitted very quietly to himself that he admired her for it. Not many women in society disagree with a man so publicly and verbally.

He could even understand her being a rebel for she seemed to have a problem with authority. Of course she would join the side where she could fight against the supreme ruler.

When the subject in the tent turned towards him, Tavington ceased his wayward thinking and pressed closer to the canvas, trying to hear what was being said.

"Honey, if you can't see the way he looks at you, you're not as smart as I thought," he heard Mrs. Cunningham say. Was it really that noticeable?

The line from another girl was a bit startling, if not very inappropriate, but Stephanie's comment of "hardly, I doubt the Colonel has it in him to even care for me," made Tavington feel slightly defeated. She was right. There hasn't been much that he has done to her other than belittle and curse her. Maybe there was a way to show her that he did have a kind side and that he did care for her, but what? (After all, if a man could not be honest with himself, what good was there for him?)

Well, he could grant her a little more freedom, something she asked of him. A time without a guard would do the trick, but she could easily run away again. She may have promised not to, but Tavington knew if he was given an opportunity to escape his prison, he would take it so why wouldn't she? Alright then, she keeps the guard. What if he took her for a ride? An image of her beneath him flashed in his head and he had to hastily end that thought before more came from it. That was definitely not what he meant. Damn it, what could he do?

Sighing, in frustration, annoyance and overall exhaustion, Tavington was about ready to head back to his own tent, when the flap was thrown aside and Stephanie came walking out, her head bent low and serious look of concentration on her face. For once her hair was down, falling in large, soft curls over her shoulders and hanging down her back opposed to falling out of the ribbon like she usually had it, and her dark blue skirts swished almost provocatively around her hips, drawing his eyes downward.

"Oh, hey there, Colonel. What's shaking?" She asked, smirking when his eyes moved to hers. Tavington had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat as she gazed up at him with her jeweled eyes and a smile upon her lips as if she could read his thoughts. Hell, she probably could, and that spark of amusement in her eyes compelled Tavington to stand up straighter and taller.

"'What's shaking?' What on earth does that mean?" Tavington asked gruffly. At least I didn't squeak, he thought ruefully.

She grinned as if saying 'you know exactly what that means.' Unexpectedly the moon moved out from behind a cloud, it's pale, silver rays falling down and illuminating the two people as if they were on a stage and that's when he noticed a white powder gracing her nose and half of her left cheek. He tried not laugh, but a snort did escape.

"What's so funny?" Stephanie scowled indignantly, her hands moving to her petite waist.

An evil smirk appeared as he reached up to scratch the side of his nose. "You have, ah, something gracing your features."

She cocked her head to the side, staring at him confusedly. "Huh?"

Tavington sighed, rolling his eyes, and then reached up to dust the flour off her face, cupping her cheek with one hand to hold her still, while the other brushed the particles away. He didn't, however, anticipate the reaction that would stir in him, and in her. The instant he touched her, her eyes darkened to a dark, rich, chocolate color that was sparkling like the stars above. His mouth went dry and he visibly swallowed, feeling something foreign and unique rousing within him.

She nuzzled his hand, her eyes closing briefly in pleasure before they opened again and regarded him with such innocent trust and affection it was almost unbearable. One hand dropped down her side, his arm encircling her tiny waist and pulling her to him before either could understand what was happening.

"Maybe I should get stuff on my nose more often," Stephanie practically purred, her hands running up his chest to circle his neck, pressing herself up against him and making him want to groan. The feel of her warm body through his cotton shirt was far more pleasurable than what should be allowed.

"I think you should, too," Tavington whispered huskily. He wanted to kiss her, just bend down and take what he knew she would give, but he knew that wouldn't work. Not anymore. She deserved gentleness and compassion, not aggression. He could see the desire in her eyes too. Why doesn't he just do what he sought, reason be damned? Because there are far too many people around and you're drawing too much attention as it is. Damn his mind, for it was right.

Tavington glanced up, breaking the spell between him and Stephanie, noticing how some of the soldiers were eyeing the two of them discreetly out of the corner of their eyes. Even though night had fallen, they were both in the lime light from the moon. Tavington wanted to curse anything and everything for his own stupidity. He needed, really truly needed to control his body and his actions. Now was not the time.

Scowling he reached back and seized Stephanie's wrists, disentangling himself from her clutches. Reflexively her hands formed fists as she gazed at him with more confusion and some disappointment. Hell he was disappointed. If they had been in another place, and two different people, he would have had no qualms claiming her for his own. As it were, they were both far too conspicuous to have anything happen between them. What he was thinking before was nothing short of insanity, as she so delicately put by the river.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.

Yes, like this whole arrangement for starters, Tavington reflected. Keeping the scowl on his face and glaring down at the shorter girl he growled, "You should learn not to be so informal, Miss Hawkins."

Her eyes widened with surprise and hurt, flashing quickly to golden anger. "Me? You're the one you started it," she spat, yanking her wrists out of his hands.

Tavington shrugged nonchalantly, going for a noncommittal approach. "I was merely trying to stop any embarrassment from happening to you. It was you who nuzzled my hand."

"Well you made no moves to stop me before," she huffed. If he hadn't known any better, Tavington would have bet that she would have stomped her foot in frustration. But why would she be frustrated? She doesn't care for him, she'd made that painfully obvious in the way she spoke to him. However, her reactions seemed at times complete polar opposite to her words. "Besides, you were the one being so informal by the river!"

Damn, she had a point. "That was what you called insanity, wasn't it?" he growled right back. She gave him an incredulous stare, disbelief clearly written across her visage. "More to the point," Tavington muttered, brushing past her to head back to his tent. If he could get away, he might actually save something of himself. "That was all in seclusion. No one saw us there."

Suddenly the air seemed to have dropped in temperature by about twenty degrees. Tavington became aware of the stillness and silence as he walked away. Stopping he turned back around, a perplexed look on his face when he heard, "So that's it then?" Stephanie spun around to glare at him, her eyes harder than granite. Tears began to gather as she continued, "only when there's no one around, that's when it matters. That's when you want to be 'informal?'" If the air temperature had dropped, it was nothing to the coldness in her voice.

Tavington sighed; tempted to run a hand down his face but his pride would not allow him to show that kind of weakness in front of the girl. "It's a little more complicated than that—"

"What's so complicated about it? Either you care for me or you don't. There is no other option."

Where the hell had that come from? Stephanie didn't seem to know either for she caught her lip between her teeth, an action she did when nervous or had made some kind of a mistake.

Tavington stood there, not sure how he could go about answering a question that he himself was loath to answer aloud.

"That pause was the conformation I needed." Her voice was soft and full of such pain. She curtly brushed past the Colonel, bumping into his shoulder as she passed. He grabed her upper arm and spun her around to face him.

"Stephanie, don't do this," he whispered in a voice known to make women's knees turn to jelly. "You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself."

Using the same trick that she had in the past, Stephanie spun her arm around, forcing the Colonel to let her go. "You made yourself perfectly clear; and made me a fool on top of that. Seriously! What kind of person leads another on and then tells them they don't care about them?"

"I never said I didn't care," Tavington barked, his annoyance and anger growing quickly.

"Well you have a funny way of showing you do," she countered. "Just . . . leave me alone, alright?" This time she turned and ran away, her skirts billowing behind her like the wings of a wraith and her hair a tangled mess of curls behind her. Even in her state she was breathtaking.

Colonel Tavington stared after the girl, desperately wanting to chase after her, to apologize and beg for forgiveness. However, his feet remained steady and his eyes were the only ones to follow. With a sigh, and running a frustrated hand through his hair, Tavington stomped towards his tent, yelling at any soldier that so much as looked at him, ordering them to get back to whatever they were doing. Stopping just outside his tent flap, Tavington risked a glance at the little shabby piece of canvas cattycorner to his own, noticing no candle was burning inside the little marquee. Hardening his resolve, Tavington frowned and entered his tent.

Dragoon POV

Both Captain Wilkins and Captain Bordon had watched the exchange from their place by the fire, each one wincing at the harsh words spoken between Colonel Tavington and Stephanie Hawkins. Both Captains were intelligent enough to know that sparks definitely were flying between their commander and his supposed prisoner, and both knew the girl and the colonel were far too stubborn and proud to admit to these feeling for one another.

When Miss Hawkins stomped away, clearly upset, Bordon and Wilkins knew it was time for intervention. Tavington and Stephanie needed to collaborate and work their differences out so that they may actually come together like both Captains were hoping to see.

It didn't bother them in the slightest that Stephanie had once belonged to the militia. Sure at first they were quite stony towards the girl, but once both men got to know her, they realized she wasn't as bad as they thought. She was actually quite funny, with a very different sort of humor and a kind heart.

Soon following Stephanie, Colonel Tavington seemed quite perturbed himself, yelling at anyone who so much as glanced his way. If neither Captain stepped in, they both knew there would be hell to pay tomorrow. It always seemed that after a fight between Miss Hawkins and Colonel Tavington meant extra drills or longer and rougher raids for the men. For both their sanity, and their Colonel's, action must be taken tonight. But who would get the honor of talking to the colonel?

Both Captains debated over for a few minutes before they realized it was useless. They were going to have to draw straws. Thinking of the same thing, both men nodded, pounding their right fists on their left hand as they said, "Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot!"

They had learned that particular game from Miss Hawkins along with a score of other ones including Tic-Tac-Toe and Hangman. Now Bordon wished he had never heard of the game, seeing as he picked scissors and Wilkins rock. Scowling, Bordon suggested best two out of three, but in the end, he knew it was his job as second-in-command to go speak to the Colonel. Bordon only prayed, as Wilkins walked over to Stephanie's tent, that the Colonel wouldn't kill him; at least not before he heard him out. This was going to be interesting.

And interesting it will be... stay tuned for next week!