SKIP THIS PART THIS IF YOU ARE NOT MAD AT ME!
A/N TO IZZY AND THOSE WHO AGREE WITH HER: All I have to say is NYAH! So I 'lied' twice because the story just would not work the way I had planned it…ooh, call the freaking Karma Kops! And who wants to hear about Constance's uterus? People certainly don't care to hear the saga of MY uterus… (There's no saga folks, I'm only 16) Though, I guess I gotta give you credit for the injury idea, and the lauding of Constance. Interesting—I may toy with those ideas…. Anyhow, *mandatory eye-roll and loss of air.* Just to spite you, I am going to jump directly to Chapter 11! HAHAHAHA! Ok, enough now of the illogical—of course I can't just jump to chapter 11. Had you scared though, huh? BTW—Tav goes kinda Haldir the Happy/Lord Farquaad bonkers in this due to job related stress. *Hugs to poor Will*
"Joseph Carleton" had slipped in discretely in the middle of the night and went straight to William's tent. Constance barely batted an eye as Don Quixote came sailing at her head. She dodged it and crept closer to her brother. He was in a fury and at the moment, was not above a temper tantrum. Tavington grabbed her wrist and wrenched his sister to him.
"Dammit, Constance! You are not getting involved again! I won't have it!"
She went to embrace him in hopes to calm him, but he would not allow her affection.
"Don't you even try to pull this now, girl! You go change into respectable clothes this instant. This is my fight, not yours, and I will not drag my sister into the middle of an ambush."
"William, let me come. I—"
"I said no!"
"You cannot do that! I am a soldier! You need me!"
He turned away to undo his cravat. "Put it out of thought, Constance. We are riding out in the morning to set a trap, and you will not be joining us. Go put on some normal clothes."
"I am a soldier!" she persisted. "I cannot just sit here while the rest of you are out fighting."
"You are a woman, Constance Tavington, and most of the time, no better than a little girl!" The colonel returned his eyes to her with an expression so horrifying that she shrank away, convinced that this brute before her was only a fraud masquerading as her brother. "Fine, play soldier. Follow my orders! Stay here in the morning. And get dressed, God damn it!"
"Brother, I promised that I would protect you!"
"You can protect me by remaining right where you are," he sighed, repentant for his nastiness. "Just think how the general will praise me if you get hurt and it's discovered that Joseph Carleton is really a woman, and my sister no less! I'd be blamed for letting you get yourself into this, it would be as much my fault as if I had leveled my gun at you and fired. I would be forever shamed more than you can imagine. I cannot let you go."
"No!"
Colonel Tavington took hold of her face, cupping her cheeks in his palms. "Look at me. Am I doing this to be cruel? That's the last thing on my mind, and you know that. I want you to be safe because you are worth so much more than you imply you are by sacrificing yourself to ingrates. Please, Kitty, stay here." He kissed her forehead. "I'm worried for your safety."
There was no reasoning with him. She nodded sadly as she betrayed her vow. Her brother held her tight in his arms, and Constance felt tears fall into her hair. Poor Will, she thought. So frazzled and under appreciated. She realized he really could be sweet and a good big brother, when he tried.
"Thank you, Kitty. I cannot promise you I'll be safe, but I'll do my best."
---
No one had any memories of the party prior to the explosion. It had only been a few hours earlier when dawn found the dragoons assembling at the encampment. Tavington was very subdued, but it had nothing to do with lack of sleep. He had been cursed by Lord Cornwallis for the better part of an hour, because, some how, the ship bursting into flame naturally had to be the colonel's fault. And then there was the squabble with Constance….
Constance emerged from her brother's tent with a white lawn shawl wrapped tight around her shoulders. Tavington pressed her hand in assurance before riding up to organize his corps. Bordon walked up beside her, leading his horse.
"You look distraught, Miss Tavington," he said softly, forcing back a yawn.
"I'm worried about William, is all. He's been stretched so thin to appease everyone that I fear he may drop his guard and get hurt." She focused her gaze now on the captain and smiled wanly.
"I will keep an eye on him for you. I won't let anything happen to him." He offered a well-meaning grin and brought her hand to his lips. "Promise."
She nodded, pulling her shawl even closer. "Thank you, captain." Their eyes met and locked. There was something radiant sparkling in his iris' while hers were dull and concerned. He did something no one would have ever thought prim and proper John Bordon would dare to even think of. Captain Bordon swept her to him with an arm around her waist and kissed her. Constance was astounded and confused.
"Yes, I'll keep an eye on him now that he won't let you ride with us," Bordon said with a wink when he parted from her.
"What? You know?" Her face drained of its color to a pallor dimmer than that of her shawl.
"I'm not a fool, Miss Tavington. I figured it out days ago."
"Does—does Lieutenant Fife know?"
Bordon shook his head. "I do not think so. Your secret is safe, dear, do not fear."
She lowered her eyes, and he climbed into the saddle. Captain Bordon studied her for a moment before he went to join Colonel Tavington. In a moment, the men were organized and galloping away through the meadow. Constance stamped her foot with a scream when they were gone. She did not know if she were more angry or frightened.
---
Thank God! William thought as he peered through his spyglass down at the slowly proceeding baggage train. Now he did not have to worry about fighting twice as hard to keep both himself and his sister alive. She could think she was an apt fighter and a soldier as much as she liked, but there was no way in Hell she would live through even a little skirmish in the woods. Constance would be more likely to flee than fight when it came down to it.
Captain Bordon joined him at the crest of the hill. It would be any moment now when that ill led band of militia would materialize from the trees to take the bait. Then would they ever be in for a surprise! That wagon was not loaded with supplies and personal effects of the general, but instead it was full of armed soldiers ready to massacre the militia. But that was not it. Even better still was when the cavalry would charge down the hill and end this insurrection within an insurrection. Just thinking about how stupidly simple, but perfect, this plan was made Tavington beam like the proud papa of this strategical brainchild.
He was almost giddy with malign delight when a line of militia appeared and halted the sergeant at the head of the procession. There seemed to be some exchange of words between the two, and then the plan sprang into action. The wagon's cover was ripped away and out jumped the troopers. The militia took a step back, and then someone pointed out the dragoons. A minor bother to be discovered, but oh well. This would still be fun. The colonel collapsed his telescope and tucked it away before leading the charge down the hill.
A shot was fired by the militia leader, that "Ghost" fellow, as he fled. Tavington giggled in his head and ploughed headlong into the running farmers. He was like a sugared up kid in a pastry shop—this was fun! He may even bag himself a Ghost! Tavington gutted a yokel with what he thought was true finesse as he searched for that elusive farmer that was causing him so many problems. Yes, when this backwater colonel fell, the rebellion was as good as over. No colonist would dare wave a starred banner when they were no longer winning. The colonel fired a shot and took out another of the peasants.
Bordon had a tough time of keeping up when Will was so motivated, but he had to keep his word to Constance. The captain thundered after his leader and sliced away just as Tavington did.
The colonel caught sight of the Ghost riding away and spurred into his mount to give chase. Bordon followed, naturally. However, it was too late—the militia leaders had slipped off via the river and were sloshing through the water back toward their camp. Tavington fired after them with half effort, but it was some consolation to find that his bullet felled one of the retreating riders.
The Ghost had slipped away again, but no matter. There was a significant amount of his men captured or dead to keep the bumpkin quiet for a while. And oh, would the rebel colonel get his soon enough, no matter what. The ambush was not a total loss, though they prodded the prisoners, sans apparition, to Fort Carolina to be hanged.
Tavington whistled a little ditty all the way to the fort, quite pleased with himself.
Next chapter: Constance sojourns to the fort, and meets the
man that is causing her brother so much grief.