Chapter Nine: Dinner with the Officers
The dining hall was a large room with fine, dark wood furniture and beautiful silver placed carefully on the long table. Lord General Cornwallis himself sat at the head of the table. Colonel Tavington lead me past the questioning stares of several seated officers, to the end of the table opposite the Lord General.
He took a seat near the head of the table. Then, reconsidering this, he rose again and pulled out the chair next to him.
"Thank you," I said, sitting. He pushed the chair in gently, then took his seat next to me once again.
"These dinners are always so dull," he said, glumly.
I nodded, not knowing what to say. I gazed about the room, in awe. I had never seen anything so fancy, and it amazed me that the British were still living this well while Colonial soldiers in the North were freezing to death. I returned my stare to the table, and the men around me. I looked to Colonel Tavington and was startled to see his bright blue eyes staring back at me.
"What?" I asked, shifting in my seat. Being watched always made me uncomfortable, particularly by such a strong and imposing man.
"Nothing," he said. "I was just trying to figure out what you were thinking about."
I stared at him, puzzled. "Why would it matter?" I asked. I could not imagine why Colonel Tavington would even care what I was thinking about.
He shrugged. "It doesn't really," he said, feigning apathy. "You're just difficult to read, and I am not used to people who don't look terrified around me."
"I just don't let you intimidate me," I lied, hoping that he couldn't tell how nervous I really was in his presence.
Suddenly, a large group of men and women wearing clean pressed white aprons entered the room, carrying large silver platters, which they proceeded to place in front of each of us.
I stared down at the several sets of silverware in front of me. I had no idea which to use, so I simply sat there as a waiter placed a large salad in front of me.
"These are the last of our fresh vegetables," Colonel Tavington informed me. Then, as if noticing my distress, he added, "I always start with the utensils farthest from the plate."
I nodded, sighing in relief. "Thank you," I whispered. "I didn't grow up in quite this fancy an environment."
He chuckled softly. "I'm used to it. My family was very aristocratic, so this is normal life for me."
I nodded, trying to picture Colonel Tavington with a family, or as a child. Try as I might, I couldn't conjure the images in my mind. He seemed so constant, as though he had been born a strong willed adult, prepared to kill whenever the need arose. My thoughts strayed to my brother, Nathan. I wondered where he was. I wondered if he knew where I was, or that John was dead. Surely if he knew of our situation he would hasten here as soon as possible. And yet, after nearly three days in the mansion, I had heard nothing of him.
I was about to ask Colonel Tavington if any word had come from my brother, but another man, sitting next to Colonel Tavington initiated a conversation first.
"You seem awfully quiet, miss," he said, and I couldn't notice that he seemed to be sneering at me.
"I have nothing to say," I answered simply.
He nodded, then continued. "I am General O'Hara. And what is your name?"
I cleared my throat. "My name is Charlotte Peterson," I said, introducing myself.
"Ah, yes," he said. "I've heard about you." He laughed a little. "Our young captive, no doubt."
"Yes, sir," I answered. "Regrettably so." I looked away, not wanting to make small talk with General O'Hara. I was not interested in what he had to say. My stare drifted to the seat directly from me and I jumped a bit in my seat.
My eyes had met the cold stare of Captain Williams. He had a woman next to him, about my age. She had long black hair and amber colored eyes, and was staring up at him lovingly, leaning into him. I looked to her wine glass. It was empty, and from her glazed look, had been refilled and drunk again several times. However, Captain Williams didn't seem to notice her presence. Instead he stared at me, thoughtfully.
I squirmed in my seat, once again uncomfortable. I needed to get out of there. I suddenly felt paranoid, as though everyone was staring at me, malcontent evident in their eyes. I turned to Colonel Tavington, who was staring off into space. He looked dreadfully bored.
"Sir," I said. "I am feeling a bit feverish. Perhaps I should get some air?"
He nodded. "Yes, I'll go with you."
"Oh no," I said a little too quickly. "I mean, I'm sure I'll be alright."
He smiled, then leaned in to whisper something to me. "I'd do anything to get away from these buffoons!"
I nodded. The colonel excused us both, saying simply that he was taking me to get some air, and we left the dining hall together. I could not help but feel the eyes of several soldiers following me.
Finally, we left the room and went into the hallway. I moved to go through the front door, but the colonel took my arm.
"There's a back door," he explained. "We can go through there and walk in the fields if you like."
"Very well," I said. We walked down the hallway and out a door at the end of it. We emerged from the stuffy building and into the cool night air. The sun had set and the clouds had cleared, so the stars were clear and bright in the sky.
"We shouldn't stay out too long," he said. "You are still not completely well."
I agreed. Then, sensing the opportunity to ask about my brother, I said, "Have you heard from my brother Nathan?"
Colonel Tavington sighed. "Miss Peterson, perhaps we had best discuss this later."
"You've been saying that for days," I observed. "Please. Whatever it is, I have a right to know." I hated pleading with him, but if I ever wanted to know what was going on, it was the only way.
"Miss Peterson," Colonel Tavington began. "I have received word from the Colonials-that is what you call them, correct? I always refer to them as the rebels."
"Yes, and stop changing the subject," I said. He was obviously avoiding the subject.
"Right well, I have received word that your brother and a band of his men have fled North."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Miss Peterson," said the colonel gravely. "Your brother has deserted. He won't be coming to get you because he doesn't even know you've been captured."
And in that moment, my world, as it was, stopped.
The dining hall was a large room with fine, dark wood furniture and beautiful silver placed carefully on the long table. Lord General Cornwallis himself sat at the head of the table. Colonel Tavington lead me past the questioning stares of several seated officers, to the end of the table opposite the Lord General.
He took a seat near the head of the table. Then, reconsidering this, he rose again and pulled out the chair next to him.
"Thank you," I said, sitting. He pushed the chair in gently, then took his seat next to me once again.
"These dinners are always so dull," he said, glumly.
I nodded, not knowing what to say. I gazed about the room, in awe. I had never seen anything so fancy, and it amazed me that the British were still living this well while Colonial soldiers in the North were freezing to death. I returned my stare to the table, and the men around me. I looked to Colonel Tavington and was startled to see his bright blue eyes staring back at me.
"What?" I asked, shifting in my seat. Being watched always made me uncomfortable, particularly by such a strong and imposing man.
"Nothing," he said. "I was just trying to figure out what you were thinking about."
I stared at him, puzzled. "Why would it matter?" I asked. I could not imagine why Colonel Tavington would even care what I was thinking about.
He shrugged. "It doesn't really," he said, feigning apathy. "You're just difficult to read, and I am not used to people who don't look terrified around me."
"I just don't let you intimidate me," I lied, hoping that he couldn't tell how nervous I really was in his presence.
Suddenly, a large group of men and women wearing clean pressed white aprons entered the room, carrying large silver platters, which they proceeded to place in front of each of us.
I stared down at the several sets of silverware in front of me. I had no idea which to use, so I simply sat there as a waiter placed a large salad in front of me.
"These are the last of our fresh vegetables," Colonel Tavington informed me. Then, as if noticing my distress, he added, "I always start with the utensils farthest from the plate."
I nodded, sighing in relief. "Thank you," I whispered. "I didn't grow up in quite this fancy an environment."
He chuckled softly. "I'm used to it. My family was very aristocratic, so this is normal life for me."
I nodded, trying to picture Colonel Tavington with a family, or as a child. Try as I might, I couldn't conjure the images in my mind. He seemed so constant, as though he had been born a strong willed adult, prepared to kill whenever the need arose. My thoughts strayed to my brother, Nathan. I wondered where he was. I wondered if he knew where I was, or that John was dead. Surely if he knew of our situation he would hasten here as soon as possible. And yet, after nearly three days in the mansion, I had heard nothing of him.
I was about to ask Colonel Tavington if any word had come from my brother, but another man, sitting next to Colonel Tavington initiated a conversation first.
"You seem awfully quiet, miss," he said, and I couldn't notice that he seemed to be sneering at me.
"I have nothing to say," I answered simply.
He nodded, then continued. "I am General O'Hara. And what is your name?"
I cleared my throat. "My name is Charlotte Peterson," I said, introducing myself.
"Ah, yes," he said. "I've heard about you." He laughed a little. "Our young captive, no doubt."
"Yes, sir," I answered. "Regrettably so." I looked away, not wanting to make small talk with General O'Hara. I was not interested in what he had to say. My stare drifted to the seat directly from me and I jumped a bit in my seat.
My eyes had met the cold stare of Captain Williams. He had a woman next to him, about my age. She had long black hair and amber colored eyes, and was staring up at him lovingly, leaning into him. I looked to her wine glass. It was empty, and from her glazed look, had been refilled and drunk again several times. However, Captain Williams didn't seem to notice her presence. Instead he stared at me, thoughtfully.
I squirmed in my seat, once again uncomfortable. I needed to get out of there. I suddenly felt paranoid, as though everyone was staring at me, malcontent evident in their eyes. I turned to Colonel Tavington, who was staring off into space. He looked dreadfully bored.
"Sir," I said. "I am feeling a bit feverish. Perhaps I should get some air?"
He nodded. "Yes, I'll go with you."
"Oh no," I said a little too quickly. "I mean, I'm sure I'll be alright."
He smiled, then leaned in to whisper something to me. "I'd do anything to get away from these buffoons!"
I nodded. The colonel excused us both, saying simply that he was taking me to get some air, and we left the dining hall together. I could not help but feel the eyes of several soldiers following me.
Finally, we left the room and went into the hallway. I moved to go through the front door, but the colonel took my arm.
"There's a back door," he explained. "We can go through there and walk in the fields if you like."
"Very well," I said. We walked down the hallway and out a door at the end of it. We emerged from the stuffy building and into the cool night air. The sun had set and the clouds had cleared, so the stars were clear and bright in the sky.
"We shouldn't stay out too long," he said. "You are still not completely well."
I agreed. Then, sensing the opportunity to ask about my brother, I said, "Have you heard from my brother Nathan?"
Colonel Tavington sighed. "Miss Peterson, perhaps we had best discuss this later."
"You've been saying that for days," I observed. "Please. Whatever it is, I have a right to know." I hated pleading with him, but if I ever wanted to know what was going on, it was the only way.
"Miss Peterson," Colonel Tavington began. "I have received word from the Colonials-that is what you call them, correct? I always refer to them as the rebels."
"Yes, and stop changing the subject," I said. He was obviously avoiding the subject.
"Right well, I have received word that your brother and a band of his men have fled North."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Miss Peterson," said the colonel gravely. "Your brother has deserted. He won't be coming to get you because he doesn't even know you've been captured."
And in that moment, my world, as it was, stopped.
