Author's Note: I finally wrote another chapter! Not only was last week a
stressful week for me, but I was experiencing some serious writer's block!
I think I have recovered though, so here is chapter eight! I hope you like
it!
Chapter Eight: Around the Mansion
By the next morning I was feeling a great deal better. However, the confrontation with Colonel Tavington was still gnawing at me. I had given it all a great deal of thought throughout the night, and I came to the conclusion that I had acted rashly. Colonel Tavington had done nothing to disrespect me, he had simply paid me a visit.
I would have sought him out and apologized, were it not for the fact that I was still bedridden, by order of Dr. Stanton. I was physically back to normal, though I did become short of breath on occasion. Besides, the colonel had never apologized to me for capturing me, nor had I received any apology for the killing of my brother...not that it would make any difference.
I spent the morning laying in bed alone. I pulled open the drapes, hoping to let some sunlight in, but it was still raining heavily. I peered out into the gloom and saw that there were large ruts and muddy puddles forming in the dirt pathway that lead from the wooden gate up to the mansion.
I heard a knock on the door and scuttled back to my bed, pulling the covers high over my chest. "Come in," I called. I was now able to speak without coughing.
The door opened, and in walked Abigail. She looked out the window and made a face.
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" I asked her, jokingly.
"Only if you're a duck!" she retorted.
I laughed, and she walked to my bedside. She felt my forehead, which was no longer hot and perspiring.
"You certainly seem better today," she said, pleased with my recovery.
"Yes, I feel better," I replied.
"Hmmm...you may be able to get out of bed and walk around the mansion a bit...I'll fetch Dr. Stanton and send him up to have a look at you."
She turned and exited the room, and within a few minutes she returned with the doctor.
"Well, hello Miss. Peterson," said Dr. Stanton. "Abigail tells me you've improved greatly."
"Yes sir. I was hoping maybe I would be able to get out of bed today," I stated hopefully.
"We'll see."
Dr. Stanton walked to my bedside and used his instrument to listen to my breathing once again. He felt my forehead and cheeks, as Abigail had done, and nodded. He gave me a small smile, and though it seemed forced, I was thankful for it.
"Yes well, I think that today you are well enough to get dressed and go downstairs a bit. No work for at least a week, though. I'll inform Colonel Tavington for you."
"Thank you, sir," I said, although Abigail could have given me the same exact information.
Dr. Stanton turned to Abigail, as though he had read my thoughts. She was standing near the door quietly, no doubt hoping not to be thrown out of my room, as she had been the last time Dr. Stanton had examined me.
"You help her getting dressed and down the stairs and such, in case she becomes short of breath. And if any of her symptoms return, I want to hear it from you right away. Do you understand?"
Abigail nodded, but from her eyes I could tell that she despised Dr. Stanton. He spoke to her as though she was a child, and for that I did not like him very much myself. And I could not forget how he had acted like I wasn't even there the night he had come to examine me.
He left the room and Abigail walked over to me.
"Well, that's good news. I have to say you were quite a sickly little thing that first night you came here."
"Thank you Abigail," I finally said what was already long overdue.
"For what?" she asked me, confused.
"For helping me so much. For becoming my friend."
She waved her hand as if to say that it was nothing, but it really was. If I was ever going to survive here, I would need her help. I had nearly given up on my plans of escape. Even if I could get away, where would I go? And with winter fast approaching, my hopes had been nearly dashed.
"I'll be right back," said Abigail, hurrying off for something.
I got out of bed and stretched. It was good to be able to move around. I could never stand to sit still, even for brief measures of time.
Abigail returned, clutching a dress and shoes.
"These are for you," she said. "They used to be mine, but I've since outgrown them." She chuckled, placing one hand on her round belly.
I looked at her questioningly. "Abigail...do you have a family?" I asked, trying not to sound nosy.
She grinned. "I have a husband. He works in the kitchens. And as for a family, there's one well on its way." She patted her stomach once again.
"Oh, Abigail! It never occurred to me!"
"Well, you were sick, and why would you have thought to ask?"
"I wouldn't have, I suppose," I admitted, shrugging.
"Of course you wouldn't," she said. "Now, I want you to have these. You can keep them if you wish. I very much doubt they will fit me again, even after I have this baby."
She held out a pair of black leather shoes, shined to perfection, and a deep red dress with lace trimming the collar and the elbow length sleeves. It was otherwise quite simple, but very beautiful.
"Thank you," I breathed rather than said. "Abigail, you have been so kind to me. How am I ever going to repay you?"
"Well," she said, thinking. "After I have this baby, you can help me take care of it, for starters. They have lots of doctors around here, so unless there is an emergency, I don't think they'll really need your medical services anymore."
"How did you know that was my job?" I asked her.
"Colonel Tavington told me. Said you took a good look at some muscle injury of his. Spoke quite highly of you, actually, which is a lot coming from him."
"Is he really as awful as they say he is?" I asked.
"Well, he can be, but I don't think that's who he really is. He can be a bear of a man, but on the whole he's always treated me with respect, which is not something women around here encounter very often. Some of these men, like that Captain Williams, are real brutes."
I nodded in agreement.
"Well," said Abigail, looking around my room, which had grown quite disorderly from my visitor's comings and goings. "You go on down the hall and wash up and I'll straighten things up in here."
I nodded, and left the room, clutching the dress and shoes under one arm. I hurried down the hall, afraid that one of the men would catch me in naught but my nightdress, but fortunately the hallway was, for the time being, deserted.
I found the washroom and cleaned up, washing away the stench that always accompanied illness. When I was satisfied that I was as clean as I was going to get, I got out of the tub. A soft warm towel was waiting for me, and after drying myself off, I got dressed. My undergarments from the first camp had been cleaned and pressed flat, and were waiting for me. I made a mental note to thank Abigail once again for all that she had done for me, as, undoubtedly, it had been she who had taken care of my things.
I brushed the knots out of me long golden red hair and pulled it back into a long braid. I still, amazingly, had the leather cord that I had grabbed from the dressing table the last night I was in my home. I sighed sadly, thinking of the dreadful events of that evening.
You have to stop this, I thought sternly. You cannot keep thinking about it if it only worsens your mood.
I gazed into the mirror and, satisfied with my appearance, I left the washroom and returned to my own quarters. Abigail had made the bed and put the book that Colonel Tavington had brought me, which I had scarcely touched, on the small table next to my bed. The drapes were pulled open evenly and even though I had only been out of it for a few moments, my room seemed to be entirely made over.
Abigail smiled at me, eyeing me from head to foot. "You look very nice," she said finally. "That color suits you. You have such fair skin."
"Yes, it always burns dreadfully in the summer," I said, feeling my cheek self consciously.
"Do you want to go downstairs?" asked Abigail, walking up to me. "They'll be serving supper about now."
"Can you join me?" I asked hopefully.
"No, I'm afraid not," she said, looking quite downcast. "I have to get back to my chores. Don't fret though, I'll get my food later on."
I nodded. "Very well."
Abigail and I exited my room, shutting the door behind us and made our way for the stairs. There were footsteps approaching us, and we moved aside. Captain Williams himself made his way up the stairs, scowling all the while. He glared at me when he reached us.
"Feeling better?" he asked, but his voice relayed no form of concern.
"I'm very well, thank you," I answered curtly.
He rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning upward in a sneer. Then he turned away from us and walked on. As soon as he was out of earshot, Abigail looked at me, scowling.
"Horrible man! Just horrible!" she muttered, shaking her head.
She took my arm and helped me down the stairs. The entryway doors were wide open and a large group of muddy soldiers were entering, leaving a dirty trail behind them. Just as we were leaving on our way to the dining hall, Colonel Tavington entered. He was not dirty like the rest of the men, probably because it was he who had been giving the orders. Abigail explained to me that the men were simply being trained, new recruits for the British Army.
"Don't worry," she said, grinning. "They won't be eating with you."
"Who will I be eating with?" I asked, curiously. Surely a captured girl was of a lower status than a British soldier.
"You'll be eating with me," came a voice from behind me. I turned to face Colonel Tavington, his blue eyes sparkling. He was smiling, which confused me a bit, but he did seem genuinely happy to see me.
"With you, sir?" I asked. Abigail had left my side, most likely to go and tend to her other chores, and I suddenly felt terribly alone and somewhat intimidated in front of the notorious Colonel Tavington.
"Yes," he answered. The doctor told me you were back on your feet, so I decided to invite you to dinner with myself and the other officers. A few other women will be eating with us, so you needn't feel out of place. Many of the men bring their wives to the mansion here for safety."
"Ah," I said. That made sense. "And you just assumed that I would accept your invitation?" I was simply teasing him, but he looked somewhat disappointed, so I quickly added, "I do accept, by the way."
"Good," he said. "I'm glad. I've had a rotten day training the recruits. A sorry bunch, they are!"
I nodded, not sure how to comment. Then I remember the afternoon before, and our awkward argument, if one could even call it that.
"Sir, please allow me to apologize for yesterday. I was feeling quite depressed, and you were only trying to be kind." I added silently that it would have been kind for him to have left my family alone.
"It's been long since forgotten, Miss. Peterson," he said. "Though I did give it some thought last night, and I can understand why you might not have wanted to spend the afternoon making small talk with your captor."
I considered this, and replied simply, "Now I can make small talk with my captor over dinner."
Colonel Tavington smiled. "Yes, I suppose so..."
"Don't worry about it," I said, smiling at him.
"I wasn't." He extended an arm, which I took, and we walked into the dining hall.
Chapter Eight: Around the Mansion
By the next morning I was feeling a great deal better. However, the confrontation with Colonel Tavington was still gnawing at me. I had given it all a great deal of thought throughout the night, and I came to the conclusion that I had acted rashly. Colonel Tavington had done nothing to disrespect me, he had simply paid me a visit.
I would have sought him out and apologized, were it not for the fact that I was still bedridden, by order of Dr. Stanton. I was physically back to normal, though I did become short of breath on occasion. Besides, the colonel had never apologized to me for capturing me, nor had I received any apology for the killing of my brother...not that it would make any difference.
I spent the morning laying in bed alone. I pulled open the drapes, hoping to let some sunlight in, but it was still raining heavily. I peered out into the gloom and saw that there were large ruts and muddy puddles forming in the dirt pathway that lead from the wooden gate up to the mansion.
I heard a knock on the door and scuttled back to my bed, pulling the covers high over my chest. "Come in," I called. I was now able to speak without coughing.
The door opened, and in walked Abigail. She looked out the window and made a face.
"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?" I asked her, jokingly.
"Only if you're a duck!" she retorted.
I laughed, and she walked to my bedside. She felt my forehead, which was no longer hot and perspiring.
"You certainly seem better today," she said, pleased with my recovery.
"Yes, I feel better," I replied.
"Hmmm...you may be able to get out of bed and walk around the mansion a bit...I'll fetch Dr. Stanton and send him up to have a look at you."
She turned and exited the room, and within a few minutes she returned with the doctor.
"Well, hello Miss. Peterson," said Dr. Stanton. "Abigail tells me you've improved greatly."
"Yes sir. I was hoping maybe I would be able to get out of bed today," I stated hopefully.
"We'll see."
Dr. Stanton walked to my bedside and used his instrument to listen to my breathing once again. He felt my forehead and cheeks, as Abigail had done, and nodded. He gave me a small smile, and though it seemed forced, I was thankful for it.
"Yes well, I think that today you are well enough to get dressed and go downstairs a bit. No work for at least a week, though. I'll inform Colonel Tavington for you."
"Thank you, sir," I said, although Abigail could have given me the same exact information.
Dr. Stanton turned to Abigail, as though he had read my thoughts. She was standing near the door quietly, no doubt hoping not to be thrown out of my room, as she had been the last time Dr. Stanton had examined me.
"You help her getting dressed and down the stairs and such, in case she becomes short of breath. And if any of her symptoms return, I want to hear it from you right away. Do you understand?"
Abigail nodded, but from her eyes I could tell that she despised Dr. Stanton. He spoke to her as though she was a child, and for that I did not like him very much myself. And I could not forget how he had acted like I wasn't even there the night he had come to examine me.
He left the room and Abigail walked over to me.
"Well, that's good news. I have to say you were quite a sickly little thing that first night you came here."
"Thank you Abigail," I finally said what was already long overdue.
"For what?" she asked me, confused.
"For helping me so much. For becoming my friend."
She waved her hand as if to say that it was nothing, but it really was. If I was ever going to survive here, I would need her help. I had nearly given up on my plans of escape. Even if I could get away, where would I go? And with winter fast approaching, my hopes had been nearly dashed.
"I'll be right back," said Abigail, hurrying off for something.
I got out of bed and stretched. It was good to be able to move around. I could never stand to sit still, even for brief measures of time.
Abigail returned, clutching a dress and shoes.
"These are for you," she said. "They used to be mine, but I've since outgrown them." She chuckled, placing one hand on her round belly.
I looked at her questioningly. "Abigail...do you have a family?" I asked, trying not to sound nosy.
She grinned. "I have a husband. He works in the kitchens. And as for a family, there's one well on its way." She patted her stomach once again.
"Oh, Abigail! It never occurred to me!"
"Well, you were sick, and why would you have thought to ask?"
"I wouldn't have, I suppose," I admitted, shrugging.
"Of course you wouldn't," she said. "Now, I want you to have these. You can keep them if you wish. I very much doubt they will fit me again, even after I have this baby."
She held out a pair of black leather shoes, shined to perfection, and a deep red dress with lace trimming the collar and the elbow length sleeves. It was otherwise quite simple, but very beautiful.
"Thank you," I breathed rather than said. "Abigail, you have been so kind to me. How am I ever going to repay you?"
"Well," she said, thinking. "After I have this baby, you can help me take care of it, for starters. They have lots of doctors around here, so unless there is an emergency, I don't think they'll really need your medical services anymore."
"How did you know that was my job?" I asked her.
"Colonel Tavington told me. Said you took a good look at some muscle injury of his. Spoke quite highly of you, actually, which is a lot coming from him."
"Is he really as awful as they say he is?" I asked.
"Well, he can be, but I don't think that's who he really is. He can be a bear of a man, but on the whole he's always treated me with respect, which is not something women around here encounter very often. Some of these men, like that Captain Williams, are real brutes."
I nodded in agreement.
"Well," said Abigail, looking around my room, which had grown quite disorderly from my visitor's comings and goings. "You go on down the hall and wash up and I'll straighten things up in here."
I nodded, and left the room, clutching the dress and shoes under one arm. I hurried down the hall, afraid that one of the men would catch me in naught but my nightdress, but fortunately the hallway was, for the time being, deserted.
I found the washroom and cleaned up, washing away the stench that always accompanied illness. When I was satisfied that I was as clean as I was going to get, I got out of the tub. A soft warm towel was waiting for me, and after drying myself off, I got dressed. My undergarments from the first camp had been cleaned and pressed flat, and were waiting for me. I made a mental note to thank Abigail once again for all that she had done for me, as, undoubtedly, it had been she who had taken care of my things.
I brushed the knots out of me long golden red hair and pulled it back into a long braid. I still, amazingly, had the leather cord that I had grabbed from the dressing table the last night I was in my home. I sighed sadly, thinking of the dreadful events of that evening.
You have to stop this, I thought sternly. You cannot keep thinking about it if it only worsens your mood.
I gazed into the mirror and, satisfied with my appearance, I left the washroom and returned to my own quarters. Abigail had made the bed and put the book that Colonel Tavington had brought me, which I had scarcely touched, on the small table next to my bed. The drapes were pulled open evenly and even though I had only been out of it for a few moments, my room seemed to be entirely made over.
Abigail smiled at me, eyeing me from head to foot. "You look very nice," she said finally. "That color suits you. You have such fair skin."
"Yes, it always burns dreadfully in the summer," I said, feeling my cheek self consciously.
"Do you want to go downstairs?" asked Abigail, walking up to me. "They'll be serving supper about now."
"Can you join me?" I asked hopefully.
"No, I'm afraid not," she said, looking quite downcast. "I have to get back to my chores. Don't fret though, I'll get my food later on."
I nodded. "Very well."
Abigail and I exited my room, shutting the door behind us and made our way for the stairs. There were footsteps approaching us, and we moved aside. Captain Williams himself made his way up the stairs, scowling all the while. He glared at me when he reached us.
"Feeling better?" he asked, but his voice relayed no form of concern.
"I'm very well, thank you," I answered curtly.
He rolled his eyes, one corner of his mouth turning upward in a sneer. Then he turned away from us and walked on. As soon as he was out of earshot, Abigail looked at me, scowling.
"Horrible man! Just horrible!" she muttered, shaking her head.
She took my arm and helped me down the stairs. The entryway doors were wide open and a large group of muddy soldiers were entering, leaving a dirty trail behind them. Just as we were leaving on our way to the dining hall, Colonel Tavington entered. He was not dirty like the rest of the men, probably because it was he who had been giving the orders. Abigail explained to me that the men were simply being trained, new recruits for the British Army.
"Don't worry," she said, grinning. "They won't be eating with you."
"Who will I be eating with?" I asked, curiously. Surely a captured girl was of a lower status than a British soldier.
"You'll be eating with me," came a voice from behind me. I turned to face Colonel Tavington, his blue eyes sparkling. He was smiling, which confused me a bit, but he did seem genuinely happy to see me.
"With you, sir?" I asked. Abigail had left my side, most likely to go and tend to her other chores, and I suddenly felt terribly alone and somewhat intimidated in front of the notorious Colonel Tavington.
"Yes," he answered. The doctor told me you were back on your feet, so I decided to invite you to dinner with myself and the other officers. A few other women will be eating with us, so you needn't feel out of place. Many of the men bring their wives to the mansion here for safety."
"Ah," I said. That made sense. "And you just assumed that I would accept your invitation?" I was simply teasing him, but he looked somewhat disappointed, so I quickly added, "I do accept, by the way."
"Good," he said. "I'm glad. I've had a rotten day training the recruits. A sorry bunch, they are!"
I nodded, not sure how to comment. Then I remember the afternoon before, and our awkward argument, if one could even call it that.
"Sir, please allow me to apologize for yesterday. I was feeling quite depressed, and you were only trying to be kind." I added silently that it would have been kind for him to have left my family alone.
"It's been long since forgotten, Miss. Peterson," he said. "Though I did give it some thought last night, and I can understand why you might not have wanted to spend the afternoon making small talk with your captor."
I considered this, and replied simply, "Now I can make small talk with my captor over dinner."
Colonel Tavington smiled. "Yes, I suppose so..."
"Don't worry about it," I said, smiling at him.
"I wasn't." He extended an arm, which I took, and we walked into the dining hall.
