Author's Note: ladymarytavington- I am so pleased that you enjoy my story
as much as I do yours! Thank you for your reviews!
Chapter Seven: Recovery
I awoke several times throughout the night, coughing and wheezing, but somehow I made it through until morning. Abigail visited me briefly in the morning, bringing me some warm tea to drink and placing some cool cloths on my still warm forehead.
"Thank you," I told her. She had been so helpful, even though I was nothing more than a stranger to her.
"Just doing my job," she had answered, but the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her face told me that even if it was not her responsibility to take care of me, she would still visit me.
After Abigail left, I spent the majority of my morning lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing. There was a part of me that relished the mere idea of doing nothing, but I was quick becoming restless.
After what seemed like hours of boredom, I fell asleep once again. I awoke some time later to a short, rapping knock on my door. I awoke and gasped from the surprise, which sent me off coughing again. As soon as I had recovered, I pulled the covers up tight around me, and answered the visitor.
"Come in," I called. My voice was still raspy, but was somewhat stronger than the previous evening.
The door opened and the bright light from the hallway poured in. I had not realized, in my drowsy state, how dark my room actually was.
To my great surprise, Colonel Tavington entered the room with a tray of food and a book. He came to my bedside.
"Don't you have work or something?" I asked, surprised that he would be bringing my food on a tray, especially considering that I was his captive.
He gave me a questioning look, and then answered, "I have one day's leave, since we just arrived, and I decided I would check on you. If you want though, I could leave." Something about the way he spoke made me feel somewhat sorry for him.
"No, no," I explained. "I didn't mean it like that. You are welcome to visit me. It simply was not expected."
"You know, Miss. Peterson, I may seem a terrible brute, but I do have some heart." I could not tell if he was serious or teasing me.
"Of course you do," I said sarcastically. "You simply hide it terribly well."
Once again, he looked hurt. For a big mean soldier, he seemed to be emotionally hurt quite easily.
"I'm sorry," I said, sighing. The quick outburst of air made a harsh high pitched wheezing sound.
Colonel Tavington gave me a shocked look. "That sounds awful!" he said, looking at me.
"It really doesn't feel that wonderful either," I admitted.
He chuckled, and shook his head.
"What?" I asked, not sure why he was laughing at me.
"Nothing," he said, still laughing quietly.
"No really, what are you laughing at?"
"You," he said, grinning. "Some of the things you say just strike me as funny."
I smiled. "Must be the fever," I quipped.
He chuckled again. "Things like that."
He took a seat in the chair next to my bed and I munched on some of the food he had brought up to me and drank some more tea. It was a bit stronger than what my mother would have made, but good nonetheless. However, thinking of my mother made me think of my siblings, which, in turn, caused my thoughts to veer towards the memory of John, my poor brother, shot at the mere age of fifteen.
Colonel Tavington noticed that my eyes were moistening, but he said nothing, which I appreciated. I did not want him prying into my personal affairs, especially considering that he and his men had brought about much of my recent sadness. On the other hand, something about the twinkling in the colonel's amazing blue eyes, and the way I could make him laugh made him seem quite attractive to me. I shook my head, as though the thought would simply exit my mind, but I could not shake away the fact that Colonel Tavington may not be as awful as I had assumed.
"What?" he asked me, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"Nothing," I answered.
To my surprise, he did not press the issue. "You seem somewhat better today," he said, instead.
"Yes," I answered. "I feel somewhat better as well. I think getting a good night's sleep last night did me some good."
"I'm glad. I felt bad about having contributed to your illness."
I thought about that, and it hit me. The only reason the colonel was visiting me was to ease his own conscience. He felt bad about me getting sick because of him, and so he was here with food and drinks for me, so that he would feel better!
"You really don't have to feel bad about it," I said, not wanting him here just because he felt bad about his actions.
He nodded. "But I do," he said.
"Well, you needn't," I answered him stubbornly.
He got up, taking the hint. "You know," he said, glaring at me. "If you wanted me to leave, you could have simply told me so."
He gave me one final look and left the room. Something in his eyes when he had looked at me told me that he really felt badly about the whole situation, which made me feel bad. But I didn't need him pitying me and sitting with me just so he could feel better. He had captured me, and if I ever wanted to escape from Colonel Tavington and the British Green Dragoons, I could not allow myself to become involved with him.
The thing that made me saddest was that no matter how I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was attracted to Colonel Tavington.
Chapter Seven: Recovery
I awoke several times throughout the night, coughing and wheezing, but somehow I made it through until morning. Abigail visited me briefly in the morning, bringing me some warm tea to drink and placing some cool cloths on my still warm forehead.
"Thank you," I told her. She had been so helpful, even though I was nothing more than a stranger to her.
"Just doing my job," she had answered, but the twinkle in her eyes and the smile on her face told me that even if it was not her responsibility to take care of me, she would still visit me.
After Abigail left, I spent the majority of my morning lying in bed, doing absolutely nothing. There was a part of me that relished the mere idea of doing nothing, but I was quick becoming restless.
After what seemed like hours of boredom, I fell asleep once again. I awoke some time later to a short, rapping knock on my door. I awoke and gasped from the surprise, which sent me off coughing again. As soon as I had recovered, I pulled the covers up tight around me, and answered the visitor.
"Come in," I called. My voice was still raspy, but was somewhat stronger than the previous evening.
The door opened and the bright light from the hallway poured in. I had not realized, in my drowsy state, how dark my room actually was.
To my great surprise, Colonel Tavington entered the room with a tray of food and a book. He came to my bedside.
"Don't you have work or something?" I asked, surprised that he would be bringing my food on a tray, especially considering that I was his captive.
He gave me a questioning look, and then answered, "I have one day's leave, since we just arrived, and I decided I would check on you. If you want though, I could leave." Something about the way he spoke made me feel somewhat sorry for him.
"No, no," I explained. "I didn't mean it like that. You are welcome to visit me. It simply was not expected."
"You know, Miss. Peterson, I may seem a terrible brute, but I do have some heart." I could not tell if he was serious or teasing me.
"Of course you do," I said sarcastically. "You simply hide it terribly well."
Once again, he looked hurt. For a big mean soldier, he seemed to be emotionally hurt quite easily.
"I'm sorry," I said, sighing. The quick outburst of air made a harsh high pitched wheezing sound.
Colonel Tavington gave me a shocked look. "That sounds awful!" he said, looking at me.
"It really doesn't feel that wonderful either," I admitted.
He chuckled, and shook his head.
"What?" I asked, not sure why he was laughing at me.
"Nothing," he said, still laughing quietly.
"No really, what are you laughing at?"
"You," he said, grinning. "Some of the things you say just strike me as funny."
I smiled. "Must be the fever," I quipped.
He chuckled again. "Things like that."
He took a seat in the chair next to my bed and I munched on some of the food he had brought up to me and drank some more tea. It was a bit stronger than what my mother would have made, but good nonetheless. However, thinking of my mother made me think of my siblings, which, in turn, caused my thoughts to veer towards the memory of John, my poor brother, shot at the mere age of fifteen.
Colonel Tavington noticed that my eyes were moistening, but he said nothing, which I appreciated. I did not want him prying into my personal affairs, especially considering that he and his men had brought about much of my recent sadness. On the other hand, something about the twinkling in the colonel's amazing blue eyes, and the way I could make him laugh made him seem quite attractive to me. I shook my head, as though the thought would simply exit my mind, but I could not shake away the fact that Colonel Tavington may not be as awful as I had assumed.
"What?" he asked me, bringing me out of my thoughts.
"Nothing," I answered.
To my surprise, he did not press the issue. "You seem somewhat better today," he said, instead.
"Yes," I answered. "I feel somewhat better as well. I think getting a good night's sleep last night did me some good."
"I'm glad. I felt bad about having contributed to your illness."
I thought about that, and it hit me. The only reason the colonel was visiting me was to ease his own conscience. He felt bad about me getting sick because of him, and so he was here with food and drinks for me, so that he would feel better!
"You really don't have to feel bad about it," I said, not wanting him here just because he felt bad about his actions.
He nodded. "But I do," he said.
"Well, you needn't," I answered him stubbornly.
He got up, taking the hint. "You know," he said, glaring at me. "If you wanted me to leave, you could have simply told me so."
He gave me one final look and left the room. Something in his eyes when he had looked at me told me that he really felt badly about the whole situation, which made me feel bad. But I didn't need him pitying me and sitting with me just so he could feel better. He had captured me, and if I ever wanted to escape from Colonel Tavington and the British Green Dragoons, I could not allow myself to become involved with him.
The thing that made me saddest was that no matter how I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was attracted to Colonel Tavington.
