The couple reached camp later than planned and Sarah felt her husband was nervous. He would deny it when she asked and she figured it was better not to ask again. She knew she was expected to translate paperwork. She found it quite intriguing and was very much curious about what she would find.

The couple walked in camp; James held her arm tightly. His attitude was very different, possessive she would say. Although she was glad she was not alone there, the camp was a maze made of the exact replica of a white tent. She could never find her way around, but James did easily. Many men on their path greeted her, lifted their hats when she would pass them by, but James never stopped and never greeted back any of them. He waved his hand, toward one man wearing the same uniform he was.

"Captain Wilkins, there you are. Colonel Tavington has been waiting for your arrival. This must be Mrs Wilkins. Your knowledge will greatly help us, madam," the man said as he took her hand and kissed it.

"Yes, Mrs Wilkins, this is Captain Bordon," James said as she nodded her head.

She noticed him did not mention her first name. She figured she would be Mrs for now on. She always felt old when she was address to like that.

Bordon held open the piece of tissue that must be the door and the couple entered the tent. Colonel Tavington was standing, one hand behind his back. Bordon introduced her to the colonel, who raised an eyebrow as his eyes set on her.

"What is your maiden name, Mrs Wilkins?" He asked, not even welcoming her

"Stuart, sir," she replied. The more she looked at him, the more he seemed familiar. It was not impossible their paths crossed in social events back in London.

"You are the younger daughter of Henri Stuart, Earl of Essex, isn't?" he stated.

"Indeed, sir," she didn't know how to address him, so she stuck with sir, hoping she was not improper. James could not help the bit of jealousy growing in his gut.

"Hm. Captain Wilkins here told us you could translate those letters we intercepted," he said as he handed her a pile of papers.

"I will do as best as I can. I have never spoken any military topic in French so I hope the extent of my vocabulary will be helpful."

She opened the first letter, which was very short, and started to read in her head. Her French was not as rusty as she thought it would be.

"Out loud," Tavington commanded.

"Well, this is not relevant…"

"I will judge what is relevant. Now translate as you read, if you will."

His tone was sharp; she did not want to argue with that man. She took it from the beginning and translated as she thought was the closest meaning.

"Dearest, it is with deep regrets that I now inform you that your brother has passed away," she lifted her eyes to meet the colonel; he nodded his head as a sign for her to keep reading. "I also wish to let you know that the ceremony with be held in Summerville, on September 3rd."

The three men were looking at each other.

"Summerville is a township known as sympathising with the rebel cause. Could this be the time and location for some meeting?" Wilkins spoke.

"This is only tomorrow. It is worth the shot to try and follow those letters, to see if they mean anything. If it is not true by any mean, we'll discard the rest, but if it is true, this could gives us an advantage. I think we must give this a try, considering who was carrying those letters," Bordon added.

Tavington took a deep breath in and exhaled before agreeing to this plan. Bordon would prepare the watch with a small number of men. As he got his order, he left the tent.

"Mrs Wilkins, please translate the rest of the letters. If this intelligence is proven true, we shall be ready. You may write down your translations here," Tavington said as he extended his arm toward his desk. "Wilkins, you will go on a patrol toward Black Swamp. The scouts reported there might be rebel activities down there. Take 20 men and leave now. Be back before the night."

James gave a concern look at Sarah, then back at the Colonel.

"Don't worry, Captain. You wife will be safe in my company here."

"Yes, sir." James knew he could not say anything more. He nodded his head and left, leaving Sarah.

Outside, he met Bordon who had not left yet.

"I know how you might feel; unsure about leaving your wife alone here. I have known Tavington for years now and there is not a man I would trust more than him," Bordon said in a reassuring way.

James swallowed hard as he nodded. He heard others stories about his ranking officer. He never really paid attention to gossip, but he could not help himself. At least, the patrol would keep him busy for the day and he hoped he would not be consumed by his increasing jealousy.

…

Back in the tent, Sarah was writing, focusing on her task. At least she was busy and the day flew quickly. For most part of the day, she was alone in the Colonel's tent. He came and went but left her undisturbed.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as he entered the tent once again.

"Yes, I am," she replied.

"I will see that dinner will be served here," he peeked his head out and yelled at someone. "It is curious; I did not take you for a reserved woman back in London."

"I am not in my comfort zone here, I must admit. I am deeply sorry, but have we met in London before?" she inquired.

"Not officially, no. Although we did attend much of the same events. I must admit I was hoping for the season you would be allowed for courting. The first thing I heard was that the Earl had moved for the colonies. You can picture my deception."

She felt her cheeks turn red. That man was quite straight forward and she was not used to it. She tried to remember as much as she could, but she could not recall him. Her thoughts were interrupted by a private bringing in dinner.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner, Mrs Wilkins?"

"Of course," she replied.

The meal was uneventful, Tavington was more social than he ever been since the beginning of this war. Sarah's company was enjoyable. He was glad to speak to someone with a similar background as himself. Although his father squandered his heritage, he grew up in a wealthy family. Being stuck with those colonials he never knew if he could trust them was hard on his nerves.

That night had fallen and James was not back yet. Tavington had a cot settle in his tent. He could not send this woman in any other tent in this camp since he could not ensure her safety. She was apprehensive of the night to come. She undid her hair and borrowed Tavington brush. She was planning on seeing fully clothes, but she saw the colonel had started to undress in the mirror's reflection. She was relieved when he kept his shirt and pant.

"Do not worry about your husband. Those patrols are often longer than we planned," Tavington said as he could read her mind. He walked toward her and took the brush off her hand to comb his own lock of hair.

"Thank you," she replied.

"Do you need any assistance with your clothing?"

"No, I plan to keep my dress on since we shall be sharing this tent. I am sure you understand."

"As you wish," he said as he laid down on his cot. "Good night"

"Good night."