Chapter Thirteen: The Dinner

I made my way down the stairs. I felt somewhat clumsy and self-conscious in the dress that Abigail had lent me, and I knew that some of the men were eyeing me, most likely out of curiosity. Most of them still didn't know who I was.

Colonel Tavington was waiting at the bottom of the staircase for me. He extended an arm, which I took, gratefully.

He leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "You look very nice."

I smiled, and could feel my pale cheeks blushing crimson. "Thank you," I said. "Um, you look nice also."

I hadn't really noticed his attire until then, but I looked him up and down to see whether he really did look nice or not. He was wearing his usual army uniform, with a green vest and some green trim on his jacket, because he was a Dragoon. His hair was pulled back neatly and he looked clean shaven. His blue eyes twinkled.

We walked along avoiding the stares of curious onlookers. There were several women milling about, most escorted by a soldier, like myself. They were Loyalist women, no doubt. Several shot flirtatious glances and sweet smiles at Colonel Tavington, and then sneered at me. Obviously, the colonel was the object of many women's affection, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering how many of them he had ever escorted to dinners such as this.

We entered the dining hall, and I was amazed by how different it looked compared to when I had last been in it. A long, silky white tablecloth covered the table. There were new candles burning everywhere, casting a golden glow about the room. Center pieces of dried flowers and multicolored fall leaves were scattered along the table.

"Who did all this decorating?" I asked Colonel Tavington.

"I'm not really sure, I'm afraid…" he admitted.

"Oh," I answered. I was somewhat disappointed that Colonel Tavington was oblivious to the daily lives of his captives, except, it seemed, for my own.

"So, um…" he said, shifting on his feet, uncomfortably. "I never really know what to do at these things…"

"I've never been to anything like this," I admitted. "So I'm sure you have a better idea of what to do than I do."

"Right, well…they'll be serving dinner for the officers and their, um, guests soon, so we can go ahead and be seated."

I nodded. "Very well."

We walked along the long table until we found the same seats that we had occupied the last time we ate dinner together. I was disappointed to see that Captain Williams was still sitting in the seat across from me. He was leering at a girl, about my age, with long dark hair and pale skin. He had one arm over her shoulder, his hand lingering close to her breast. She had a dazed look on her face, as though she wasn't really aware of what was going on around her. I noticed the empty glass in front of her. There was a sort of murky white film around the brim. I made a mental note to never drink anything offered to me by Captain Williams.

Soon there were large silver platters of food placed in front of us. The dinner for the night was chicken, and a variety of vegetables. I picked around at it, absentmindedly.

"Is your food alright?" asked Colonel Tavington.

"Oh, yes, it's wonderful," I said. "I'm just still not very hungry. I think maybe it's from being sick before…" It was true that I hadn't been hungry since I had been ill, but I think it was mostly because I was constantly worried and on edge in the mansion. I was always thinking, planning in the back of my head. I could not assume that I was always going to be treated with such hospitality. In fact, I had never expected it in the first place.

I sat in silence for a while. Colonel Tavington was discussing raids with General O'Hara. Occasionally, I looked up at the poor girl sitting next to Captain Williams and wondered what, if anything, was going through her head. I pitied her, and had I not been so afraid of Captain Williams, I would have scurried around the table, taken her hand, and got her out of there, and away from him. The fact that I was too terrified of Captain Williams to do anything made me feel like a coward.

Suddenly, Colonel Tavington spoke to me again. "You look bored," he said. He wore a teasing smile on his face.

I shrugged. "Maybe a little," I admitted.

"If you're done eating, we can leave," he said.

I took advantage of the fact that the colonel seemed to want out of the dining hall just as much as I did, and we left. We headed out into the crowded hall.

"Do you want to go outside where it's not so crowded?" asked Colonel Tavington.

"Yes, I'd like that," I said.

We left through the back door, as we had the night he had informed me of my brother's desertion. The sky was sprinkled with bright, glowing stars, and the full moon made things light. We stood alone in the field, the only people outside.

"Thank you for coming to this thing with me," said Colonel Tavington.

"Your welcome," I said. Then, thinking, I said, "I wasn't quite sure why you invited me in the first place."

He didn't answer my question, but instead, said, "Well, do you want to go for a walk?"

"Alright," I answered.

We walked along through the fields, in silence. We passed a long while like that, just walking, not saying anything. It was oddly intimate, just walking through the fields with no one else around. It started getting cold, so Colonel Tavington took off his coat and put it around my shoulders.

"Thank you," I said.

"Your welcome. It this cold air going to make your cough bad again?"

"I don't think so. I feel fine," I answered.

"Can I tell you something?" he asked me. He put his hands on my shoulders and turned me so that I was facing him. I had to look up to make eye contact with him.

"What?" I asked, feeling suddenly conspicuous.

"I admire you," he said.

"For what?" I asked, laughing nervously.

"For…for being so strong. I realize you've been through a lot, and I know I do little to help…I…I'm not a very emotional man, but I just wanted you to know that."

"Thank you…" I laughed. "You're not drunk, are you?"

He chuckled, a big loud laugh. "No, I only had a glass of wine."

"I'm glad," I said. "I was afraid maybe you didn't mean it."

"No, Char-I mean, Miss Peterson, I meant it."

"You can call me Charlotte," I told him.

"Very well. And, when not in the presence of my superiors, you may call me William."

I nodded. Then, impulsively, I asked a question that had been on my mind for the entire evening.

"Colonel, I mean William," I smiled as I said his name. "Are you married?"

He was quiet for a long time, and then answered, "No. I was engaged once, but things didn't go as we had planned. I suppose I'm not an easy man for a woman to contend with."

I laughed. "Perhaps not."

By that time we had made it through the field and back to the mansion. The crowds in the hallway seemed to have dispersed and we walked to the base of the stairs. Colonel Tavington took my hand and raised it to his lips. Quite awkwardly, he kissed it.

"Well, goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight…" I mumbled.

He turned and walked away, and I made my way up the stairs.