"Well," asked an eager Julia, "was it wonderful?"
"No."
Her face fell. She uncurled herself from the branch of the peach tree where she had been waiting for him, and slid to the ground. "It hasn't been very wonderful here, either. Jane, Mary, Frank, and the baby were all sick at once. None of us got much sleep."
Tavington understood all too well. He had returned to Fort Carolina to find a third of his command unfit for duty. Between malaria and yellow fever, the army's strength was drastically reduced. He himself had had a touch of fever, and he had heard that the Lord General had taken to his bed.
"But you and your sisters are well, I hope?"
"We are well enough, thank you. But Lilabet's been a little cross lately. She's been talking to that Mr. Pangbourne and it always upsets her. He's with her and Aunt Sarah Jane Minerva now."
"Who is Mr. Pangbourne?" Tavington asked, as Julia accompanied him up the walk.
"A lawyer. Aunt says he's living proof Jack Cade was right, whatever that means."
Tavington laughed. Julia tugged on his sleeve.
"That's not fair. Nobody will tell me the joke."
Tavington stopped and lowered his voice. "Jack Cade was a rebel long ago in England, and in a play by Shakespeare one of his followers says, 'The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.'"
Julia giggled. At that moment, the front door opened, and a short, middle-aged man came down the steps. He gave Tavington a distant nod, and Julia a pat on the head.
"Good-day to you, little lady."
Julia glared furiously after him. She took off her cap, shook out her hair, and replaced the cap with ostentatious display. She sulked to Tavington, "I hate being patted on the head. It's demeaning. And I dislike strangers putting their hands on me anyway. I am not a doll."
Tavington forbore to smile. "No, you are not a doll. It is only your short stature which induces people to conveniently rest their hands upon your head."
She laughed, her good humour restored. She took him by the hand and led him into the house.
Miss Wilde and Miss Everleigh were both in the parlour, and the air was thick with the sort of tension that lingers after quarrels. Though both women were silent, they did not seem angry with one another. Miss Wilde was very pleased to see him, though shaking off her unhappy mood with difficulty. He thought at first she was wearing an unseasonably heavy shawl over one shoulder, until he looked closer and saw that it was an infant cradled against her.
"Colonel, how happy we are to see you. Oh," she smiled, noticing his bemused gaze. "Let me present Miss Caroline Montgomery, who is visiting us from upstairs today. Charlotte needs her sleep, and Amelia and Zilphah have taken the other children out to study plants." She saw Julia, attempting to be invisible behind Tavington. 'I see that not everyone went along. Well, come in and sit with us, Julia. You can hold Caroline for awhile."
"Thank you so much," said Julia with enough sarcasm to earn a reproving look from her sister, and a hard one from her aunt.
"Colonel Tavington," said the old lady, "you are just what we need, after a morning with that wretch Pangbourne. I hope your time in Charlestown was spent pleasantly?"
"Quite," said Tavington briefly. Miss Everleigh laughed.
"Not one for balls, are you? Or was it the company that failed to please?"
"It was indeed more business than pleasure, madam. And I care little for dancing anyway."
"Infamous!" cried Miss Everleigh. "A good-looking man who refuses to dance has failed in his duty to womankind! You should have been marched around the wallflowers and been made to dance with every one!"
Tavington managed a smile. "A fearful prospect for the ladies. It would be punishment for them rather than for me. But indeed, I had little reason to dance. As you may know, a supply ship was blown up before our eyes, and the Lord General was very angry at the loss of his wardrobe."
Miss Wilde asked, "But why should he be angry with you? How could it possibly be your fault if the Royal Navy cannot defend its own ships? That sounds most irrational."
"Perhaps so, Miss Wilde, but it is no secret that I am not in the Lord General's good books."
"He's probably just jealous," declared Julia. She was rocking the baby a little too enthusiastically, and Miss Wilde took the infant back from her.
"Yes, indeed," agreed Tavington sardonically. "With his title, his wealth, and his one hundred thousand acre land grant, he has every reason to envy me." He leaned closer to Miss Wilde, admiring the little girl in her arms. She was an exquisitely pretty thing, with enormous blue eyes and a cap of golden hair. The baby took note of Tavington , and dimpled at him delightfully.
"Would you like to hold her?" offered Miss Wilde. She smiled at his hesitation, and gave him the child, showing him how to support the head. He had never held any human being so fragile or so young. It was not an unpleasant sensation, and in addition, he was sure that kindness to children would be noted and appreciated by Miss Wilde. The child smiled, nestled closer, opened its enchanting pink mouth, and emitted a sour-smelling bubble of milky fluid over the front of Tavington's uniform jacket. The Montgomerys had struck again.
"Oh dear!" exclaimed Miss Wilde, retrieving the infant and handing a cloth to Tavington.
"Ha!" laughed Miss Everleigh. "A taste of the joys of fatherhood! At least you didn't throw the little brat out the window!"
"She is not a brat, Aunt," protested Miss Wilde, who then saw the look of disgust on Julia's face. "Julia, she's just an innocent infant, and I've wiped your face and worse in my time, so don't turn up your nose at her, my dear!"
"Lilabet!" cried Julia, rising indignantly to her feet. "I can't believe you said that in front of Colonel Tavington! I am so mortified!"
"Oh, sit down, Julia," said Miss Everleigh. "There isn't a human being who hasn't been a smelly, puking infant, so don't get all high and mighty."
Tavington wiped the unappealing mess from his jacket, and tried to hide his confusion. "No harm done. I've had worse spilled on my uniform." He caught the amusement in Miss Wilde's eye and shrugged. "Much worse, in fact."
"Lizzie," said Miss Everleigh. "That baby will be fussing soon. Why don't you and Julia take her back up to Charlotte? I am sure the Colonel and I can find something to talk about."
Miss Wilde stared at her aunt, who stared back at her with an unblinking, sphinx-like gaze. Miss Wilde looked helplessly at Tavington, murmured an embarrassed "Excuse us, Colonel," and carried the baby out, a reluctant and bewildered Julia following.
Miss Everleigh sat back comfortably in her throne of a chair, and transferred her bright black stare to Tavington. Uneasily anticipating what might ensue, Tavington forced himself not to fidget.
The silence lengthened. Miss Everleigh's wrinkled lips curled in a thoroughly unpleasant smile, and Tavington recalled just how malicious she could be. He, for his part, assumed his most supercilious expression of polite boredom.
"By rights," began Miss Everleigh, "it should be Lizzie's father or even her brother speaking to you, but the poor girl has no one but me."
Tavington waited. Miss Everleigh, quite undismayed by his silence, continued after a moment. "Well, Colonel? Do you have any intentions? And if so, are they of the honourable kind?" She seemed quite willing to sit staring at him all day, and Tavington thought it best to be honest.
"I have the greatest regard and esteem for Miss Wilde. Nothing could give me greater pleasure than spending the rest of my life in her company. However, I am not in a position to offer her marriage at the present time."
"Why not?" Miss Everleigh asked bluntly. "If you have a previous entanglement, it would be best if you left this house, and never came back. It must be evident to you that Lizzie loves you. I won't have you trifling with her for a summer's sport."
"I am not trifling with her, and I do not regard her as an object of sport. Miss Wilde is everything I could wish or hope for in a wife. Indeed, she is far too good for me."
"Pah!" snapped Miss Everleigh, with an angry spark in her eyes. "Don't give me that shopworn excuse! Too good for you indeed! There aren't many women who aren't too good for most men! That never stopped a man from pursuing a woman he really wanted. What is the real issue, then?"
"I cannot afford to marry." There, the humiliating truth had been spoken. Miss Everleigh looked at him for a while, weighing his words.
"All right," she said. "Now what exactly do you mean by that? Are you saying that you are in debt, that your family ties make it inconvenient, or that your income is insufficient to support Lizzie?"
"I mean I have no fortune, no family, and nothing but my pay. I cannot provide Miss Wilde with the kind of life to which she is accustomed."
"Do you think she will enjoy becoming accustomed to the kind of life she is living here under my roof?" He looked at her, startled. Miss Everleigh continued ruthlessly. "Because that is her alternative. Unless she marries, Lizzie bids fair to becoming a poor relation, pressed into service as an old woman's companion, or spending a lifetime caring for and teaching other people's children. I suppose," she continued, with a sneer, "she might obtain employment at some school, but even that is unlikely, with her two sisters in tow. No," she said, "she will be someone's dependent, and treated as such."
Tavington felt himself becoming angry, despite his best efforts. "After the war is over and won, she can return to Arcadia, where she is mistress."
Miss Everleigh gave a nasty laugh. "From what Mr. Pangbourne tells us, that is not too likely, either." Tavington could not hide his surprise. "Between her father's will, her mother's will, the fact that she is a woman and her sisters are minors, and no one seems to know who their guardians are, it is not at all clear who owns Arcadia. Possibly my nephew Ned Everleigh, but he's off in Jamaica, and would never leave his sugar plantation and slave concubines long enough to do anything but send an agent to sell Arcadia and everything in it. He certainly would never offer the girls a home, nor would any home of his be a fit place for a decent woman." She gave Tavington a considering stare. "Of course, John Wilde had some kin in England, but no one knows them well enough to say if they would want the place or not."
"What you are saying is if the place were in her possession, it is unlikely there would be any legal challenge."
"But the place is not currently in her possession." She gave him a patronising smile. "I really think you should speak to Lizzie about this. Plainly, too, as you have spoken to me. You may find that living on a soldier's pay with a man she finds agreeable holds no terrors for her."
"No, it does not," said Miss Wilde, from the doorway. She looked unhappily at Tavington. "Would you please come walking with me, Colonel?"
"Not necessary, Lizzie." Miss Everleigh rose from her chair with the help of her stick, and nodded to Tavington. "I was just leaving. I find a nap very refreshing after a stimulating conversation." She left slowly, her stick tapping down the hall.
Miss Wilde made no move to enter the parlour. "Did she really---did she ask you your intentions? She had threatened to do so, but I thought it one of her cruel jokes."
"She asked me my intentions, and it was no joke."
"I am very sorry for it. I know how very disagreeable it is to be close questioned on a personal matter---"
"I think she is right, and that we should discuss this situation frankly."
"Very well." She came into the parlour and sat on the sofa beside him, looking at the floor.
He cleared his throat. "Your aunt asked me if I had serious intentions concerning you. I assured her of my sentiments—" She looked up at him, cheeks flushing. He felt a variety of unexplored emotions pounding in his chest, constricting his throat. He refused to be unmanned, even by tenderness, and struggled to preserve his usual cool demeanour. He cleared his throat again, and said. "But I told her the truth, as I have previously told you: I have not money enough to marry and provide the lavish manner of living you enjoyed at Arcadia.' She looked at him and shook her head, evidently distressed that he would think that material. He pressed on, "Back in the 17th Light Dragoons, the regiment I originally came from, it was very nearly all I could do to keep up my uniform and horse, and pay my mess fees. Most officers," he said bitterly, "have sufficient private incomes to afford these items without embarrassment. I am not so fortunate."
"Yes," she said, quickly and earnestly, "you told me of your family situation, but you cannot imagine that I care only for---" She stopped in confusion, and he continued.
"While my pay has increased with my rank, it is still, relatively speaking, a modest income. Nor are my prospects very promising. After the last war, the Crown gave out land grants, and I have been hoping for one, but with the Lord General so unfavourably disposed to me---"
She broke in. "There are other possibilities."
"We were discussing your possession of Arcadia. Your aunt seems to believe that there is some legal tangle there."
She laughed without mirth. "Oh yes, quite a tangle. I had been hoping to sell Arcadia."
"What! Sell it! But why? When the war is over---"
She looked at him, exasperated. "When the war is over! What then?" She calmed herself, and continued. "Colonel, even if all we hope for comes to pass-- the King restored in authority, and rebellion utterly put down throughout the Colonies-- it is perfectly clear that I can never live at Arcadia again." She swallowed, and sighed unhappily. "How can I ever again have decent human relations with my neighbors who robbed me? The King may rule the Colonies, but he cannot change my neighbors' hatred to friendship. And more seriously--" she hesitated.
"What?"
"More serious is the fact that I am now at blood feud with the Crawfords." Seeing his astonishment, she said, rather bitingly. "I suppose these things are handled quite differently in England. You probably just take one another to court, but that it not how it is here in the Southern Colonies. The Crawfords look upon me as a mortal enemy, and hold me responsible for the death of one of their own."
"How can they possibly hold you-----That is too absurd!"
"Colonel, I was seen!" She drew breath, rose, and began pacing around the room. Visibly attempting to maintain her composure, she went on. "There were survivors of the rebels' attack the day you brought me to Camden. They saw me, and Melly, and Julia, with you and the Dragoons. They saw Melly with a pistol in her hand. They saw that we were not prisoners. They must know that it was I who told you that the Crawfords supported the rebellion, and that it was I who caused the Crawfords to be burned out. I was such a stupid, spiteful fool to tell you I knew the men who robbed us!"
Tavington's astonishment had turned to anger. Walking over to the window where she stood, he turned her to face him. "And how can you imagine that I would not protect you? Why should you fear those cowards?" She would not meet his gaze. His voice dropped to a growl, and his grip tightened. "Have you been threatened?"
She became more agitated yet, and pulled away from him. "I will show you," she said, "but you must promise me to say nothing to anyone else. They would be so frightened." She left the room, and he heard her light quick step on the stairs. In a moment, she had returned and proffered a folded piece of paper.
Tavington smoothed the dirty, creased message back, and read: "If you were a Man we wud hang you Don ever com back you murderin Tory Hore We no you ar seein that Bloody Tavington We will kill him and show you and your Sisters wat we do to Traytors."
He sneered, "Not very elegantly put, but clear enough. When did you receive this?"
"Monday afternoon. It came with the regular post. Luckily it had my name on it. I don't believe anyone but Uncle Ganymede saw it, and I really have no idea if he can read or not. He has given no indication that he knows what the message contained."
"Sneaking cowards, to threaten a woman!"
"Yes, yes, that's perfectly true." She sighed and sank back onto the sofa. He pocketed the message, and sat beside her, taking her hand. She continued. "But you must see, Colonel, that not only can I not return, I do not want to return. I hate the thought of living there among people I detest and who detest me. Yes, I am sure they would never dare face you, but you could not always be there to protect me. Better to let it go, and start anew."
She squeezed his hand and looked at him with a diffidence unusual for her. "Since my aunt has subjected you to an inquisition as to your prospects, it is only fair that I be open about mine."
"She has expressed herself eloquently on the subject."
"My aunt may think she knows everything, Colonel, but she does not." She gave him a faint, wicked smile. "Do remember that chest you retrieved for me the day we met?"
He smiled back, pleased at her improved spirits. "The very dirty, cobwebbed object—heavy for its size?"
"The very one. My mother was a prudent woman, and had grave doubts about the outcome of the war. She secreted that chest as a resource for us all in case the worst came to pass."
"You told me there were important documents in it and some money."
"There is some money for common expenses. The chest also contains two thousand gold guineas."
"Good God!" he exclaimed. "No wonder it was so heavy. Had any one known what was in that chest, the entire county would have been at our heels!" He laughed. "Are there any other wonders for you to reveal?"
"Yes," she said, her courage evidently rising. "The documents in the chest are largely what you might expect: the deed to Arcadia, the wills of my father and my mother, the letter concerning my brother's death at the battle of Brandywine. There is also correspondence with Mother's bank in Charlestown, which shows a balance to her account of a little over two thousand pounds, and some British securities which could be worth between three to five thousand pounds. My mother was able to place my name on these assets, and they are comparatively easily available to us. My sisters and I are not destitute, by any measure."
He began to feel, for the first time in many years, a faint thrill of hope.
She went on, "You see now, why I wanted none of the rest of my family to know about this. Every male member of my family would try to claim guardianship of my sisters and their share of the money. After all the disputes were settled, there might be nothing left for the girls. Despite what the law may say, I think I can protect their interests as well as my Uncle Ned in Jamaica, or even my Cousin James."
"And that is not all. My father, you see, had a project in mind, to be undertaken after the war. He and Richard were to go west over the mountains, and begin a study of the plants and animals in the territories south of the Ohio River. He was in communication with a very old friend, Judge Richard Henderson, who heads the Transylvania Land Company. Judge Henderson treated with the Indians for a large purchase of land in Kentucky. My father's share was ten thousand acres. The grant papers are in my possession, and after arriving here in Camden, I wrote to Judge Henderson to see if he would honour our inheritance rights to the property."
"Have you heard from him?"
"No," she shook her head, "but very likely he has not yet even received my letter. If the letter reaches him, it will undoubtedly be some time before I receive a reply." She moved closer to him. "But I am very hopeful. The judge is a good and honourable man, and he knows us. It is good land, too, apparently. Kentucky is too far north for cotton or indigo, but tobacco does well there, and I know all about tobacco farming. We would have more than sufficient funds to equip ourselves and travel there." She reddened again, realising what she had implied, and faltered, "I mean, my sisters and I could—" She stopped, and looked at him, unable to continue.
Tavington was quietly elated. It was a possibility: a reasonable one. The money alone made a great difference in their situation. With a few words she had swept away a mountain of obstacles and years of waiting. "This is—very good news," he said slowly, gradually comprehending that his secret longings could be declared openly and at once. Miss Wilde's smile became radiant. Tavington slid his arm around her shoulders, and pulled her gently against him, hardly daring to believe his good fortune. "This changes our prospects markedly. Still, I think it very important to obtain a land grant through the Crown. After the war, land ownership will undergo great changes, and who knows what may happen to your friend in Kentucky?" He shook his head, and then, taking her hand, he turned it over and pressed a lingering kiss into her palm. She drew a long, shuddering breath. He closed her hand, as if giving her the kiss to keep, and looked at her, feeling a smile beginning at the corners of his mouth. "But I put the cart before the horse. My dear Miss Wilde-- my dearest, sweetest Elizabeth, knowing what you know of our mutual prospects, will you have me? There is no one but you whom I would wish for my friend, partner, and beloved wife."
"I would have you, William," she whispered, "knowing what I know of you." She turned her face up to him trustingly, and he caught her lips with his--very sweet, very agreeable, indeed. He kissed her again; brushing lightly against her upper lip, and suckling gently on the lower. Then her mouth opened like a flower; and he groaned with passion, crushing her back against the arm of the sofa. Exhilaration at having someone of his own beat in his chest like wings, exhilaration of a kind he had never before felt, except when risking his life in battle. I need never be alone ever again. The taste of her was beyond words, and he kissed her hungrily; while her hands fluttered at his arms and then his shoulders, and finally clasped firmly around his back, pressing him to her heart.
There was a loud gasp that he suddenly realized had not issued either from his newly betrothed or himself. Starting up, Tavington and Elizabeth found themselves observed by seven pairs of astonished eyes: Amelia had returned with the Montgomery children and their nursemaid, all of them bedecked with wilting, disreputable plant specimens.
Elizabeth Wilde recovered first, "Hello, children. Did you have a nice walk?" Tavington gave a reluctant laugh, and only held her the closer.
Amelia gasped again, and then started pulling at her charges. "Upstairs, children, now! Lilabet and the Colonel are occupied." With Zilphah pushing from behind, the two of them managed to herd the little ones towards the stairs, despite the frank curiosity of the two older Montgomery girls, and the disgust of their brother George.
As they thumped their way up the steps, Jane Montgomery asked Amelia, "Is he spreading the pollen on her now?"
Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. Tavington stroked her hair, slightly embarrassed, but amused in the main. He whispered in her ear, "When we are married, my love, I promise you we shall have a door that locks!"
Author's notes:
Judge Richard Henderson and the Transylvania Land Company were real. The Treaty of Sycamore Shoals was the largest private land transaction in U. S. ( or possibly world) history, involving the sale of 20 million acres. At this particular time, no tribe actually lived in most of what is now the commonwealth of Kentucky, but it was used for common hunting lands. After completing the purchase, Judge Henderson had the land explored by his agent, Daniel Boone.
A guinea was a gold British coin of the time, worth one pound and one shilling. It weighed 8.35 grams, so 2000 of them would weigh 16.7 kilograms, or about 37 pounds. That certainly was no problem for Tavington to carry, but was surprisingly heavy for the size of the chest. 2000 guineas would be worth 2100 pounds. It is hard to give relative values, because the value of money has changed, and today's expenses are so very different, but at the time, that would equal about $10500, and would be worth many times that today. In short, a serious amount of money.
I have made Tavington's original regiment the 17th Light Dragoons as a tribute to DocM, who gives a compelling argument for this in a footnote to her story, The Loyal Daughter. "I can't help but think Will would LOVE the 17th 's cute little helmet with the skull-and crossbones badge! It's very him, somehow…"
Thank you again to all my reviewers—Zubeneschamali, Redone, Foodie, Slytherin Dragoon, Vetarru Cetkarr, JaneyQ, Tara Rose, Runespoor Oracle, VivienneTavington, Anchovy Eater, Lintasare, and Badassgothicgirl. I very much appreciate all of you taking the time to give me your kind words and advice. Good ideas are always welcome, and they give me encouragement when Tavington's adventures become too arduous.