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Chapter 13: Destinations
August 3, 1781
Williamsburg
My dear Aunt Charlotte,
Have no fears for me, dear Aunt. I am well and safe, and received news of Father's triumphant arrival into New York Harbour. I shall write to him as soon as I hear he has returned home. We expect Lord Cornwallis to come back to us with the next few weeks, and perhaps then we shall know more about the arrangements made for all of us in the future.
My news is of a happier sort. I am married. My bride, Dinah, is the prettiest girl you ever saw, and the best and loyalest. She and I were married last Tuesday. Perhaps I am young to marry, but so much has happened, and so much may still happen, that I feel justified in seeking our present happiness.
My friends, Sam Willett and Billy Miller, attended us at the church. Dinah is a true soldier's wife, and wishes to stay with me at all hazards. If, however, I feel she needs a quieter place in the future, I know I can trust in my Father and in you to provide a safe haven for her.
I'm glad that Margaret and Susan have made friends with Miss Wilde. She is a lovely young lady, and very refined. I hope that they have learnt their music, for then Father promised to buy a pianoforte, the first ever at Fresh Water. We would all enjoy that very much!
Please say hello to my brothers and sisters for me, and give them the presents in the box. There should be names on all of them. The fan is yours because the lady painted on it reminded me of you!
Your loving nephew,
Thomas Martin
-------
Thomas and Dinah's marriage was not the only army wedding taking place. By the beginning of August, the banns were published, and Patrick Ferguson and Sarah Featherstone were man and wife.
It was a small wedding, with only Tavington and Polly in attendance. Sally was radiant in misty blue; wearing her mother's pearl earrings, and her hand adorned with a sapphire wedding ring. Polly had been nearly as lovely, dressed in pale peach silk and another magnificent plumed hat. With admirable self-command, she had smiled throughout the ceremony, and only wept later, after Pattie and Sally had gone to their room—theirs alone now—to consummate their nuptials. She had knocked on Tavington's door, and spent most of the night sobbing in his arms, curled in his lap as he sat in his favourite chair before the fire.
He had been horribly tempted to comfort her in the most obvious way. It would have been so easy and so pleasurable, but he had resisted taking advantage of a heart-broken, vulnerable woman. He was very fond of Polly, he admitted to himself. Once that Rubicon was crossed, there would be no turning back; and he would not only betray his bond with Elizabeth, but compromise Polly's chances, now surprisingly good, of making a decent marriage.
Without any of the four of them having spread the news abroad, the new-found wealth of the Featherstone girls had somehow become public property. Patrick's general popularity made his fellow officers hold their peace at the news he would wed his mistress, and it was, after all, not unheard of. The sisters' reputed fortunes had grown with every gossiping tongue, and they were now mighty sums. A few thought Pattie unfastidious: many thought him "damned lucky."
As to Polly, the story told was that she was the innocent sister who had been provided for at Sally's demand, and out of Patrick's well-known good nature.
Tavington was faintly surprised that nearly everyone seemed to be swallowing such a palpable lie with such good grace. I suppose there is some sort of plausibility there, but having seen them all together in quite informal circumstances, I know it cannot be true. Still, Polly was handling it well, holding her head high, and not displaying shame, or the slightest hint of feeling ill-used.
Pattie had gathered the girls' inheritance into his capable hands. He had been anxious to liquidate the Richmond property as soon as possible, since there was a question about its ultimate sovereignty. Hasty sales did not yield quite the amounts originally hoped for, but still, each girl received sixteen thousand, eight hundred forty-two pounds, six shillings, and thruppence. The girls had been escorted to the uncle's home in Richmond, to clear out whatever possessions they wished to keep. Pattie was busily investing the money for the best possible return, and as Polly would have control of her fortune, he had indoctrinated her in the evils of touching capital.
Tavington had ridden in from a patrol late one afternoon, and seen Sally's bright head down a side street as she walked arm in arm with Pattie. Desperately tired, and in need of a bath, he rode back to his lodgings, ordered the servants to heat some water, and was just opening his own door, when he overhead Polly's voice in conversation. Curious as to who might be calling, and even a little jealous, he paused by the closed door, and then heard an unmistakably female voice answer. He smiled, satisfied. A lady caller. How nice for Polly.
An hour later, far cleaner, he decided to pay Polly his respects. He knocked, and was invited in. To his surprise, Polly's caller was still there, a pretty young woman in a lace cap and ruffled muslin gown. They made a charming sight, the young lady seated at the table by the window writing a note, while Polly stood looking over her shoulder, giving advice.
Polly looked up and smiled softly, "Good day to you, Colonel."
Her companion was startled, and at the sight of him gasped, and nearly jumped out of her chair. Polly, however, grasped the girl's shoulder, and pressed her back down. "No need to hurry, ma'am." She whispered for the girl's ears. "Rise slowly to your feet, and make your curtsey as he makes his bow."
More gracefully, the young woman rose, and she and Polly acknowledged him. As Tavington straightened from his bow, wondering what this new game was, he recognised Polly's companion. "Mrs. Martin."
It was hard to make out the girl's expression with the light behind her, but he heard the embarrassment in her voice. "Colonel, sir."
Polly's expression was perfectly intelligible, and it warned him to behave himself. "Colonel Tavington, how delightful to see you. Won't you be seated?"
A very strange quarter of an hour ensued. Polite small talk, given with the definite air of a lesson. He had always thought Dinah Poole a pretty girl, but she was far better dressed than he had ever seen her before; and while she said very little, she did not offend with any gaucheries. The boy has taken my advice to heart, he concluded, and she has thrown herself on Polly's mercy.
He asked, well-mannered as a parson's cat, "And was your trip to Richmond a success, Miss Featherstone?"
Polly smiled, glad of such a topic. "Very much so. Sally and I brought back a small wagonload of treasures. So many things from my childhood—some books with my father's name in them, my mother's sewing box and jewelry box, family pictures, and some good silver monogrammed with an "F."
Tavington smirked, "How very convenient."
She laughed. "Some other nice things as well: a great treasure of household linens, and even the first sampler I ever made!"
Dinah Martin had been gathering her courage for some time. In the pause following Polly's last words, she managed to say with some composure. "I have had such a delightful visit, Miss Featherstone, but now I must be on my way. I am very glad to have seen you too, Colonel. I hope your patrol was not disagreeable." She rose, and Tavington followed suit, to bid her farewell.
She hesitated, then gave a nice curtsey; and walking more slowly than was obviously her habit, departed.
Tavington waited until the sound of her footsteps on the stairs faded before snorting a laugh.
Polly came over to sit by him on the sofa, and reproved him with a mock slap to his arm. "Don't laugh. She's doing very well. Among people who have never known her and are not excessively refined, she would seem passably genteel."
"So she has come to you to learn to comport herself as a lady."
"If you laugh at that, I really shall be angry. I had never thought to be a schoolmistress, but my scholar is improving daily. She is practicing very diligently at improving her hand."
"Ah."
"And it is pleasant company for me."
Tavington smiled. "With that I can have no argument."
-----Peace there would be, of a sort, and perhaps of short duration, but any peace was held to be better than none at all.
General Lord Cornwallis returned to Williamsburg in Mid-August. Tavington thought he looked more exhausted from the machinations of peace-making than he ever had on campaign. Cornwallis immediately called in his senior officers to brief them on the news.
"Gentlemen," he began. "A provisional agreement has been reached." There was a rushing murmur of comment and curiosity, but it quickly faded as the officers waited to hear what the future would hold for them.
While the final agreement would have to be approved in London, Cornwallis was sanguine that it would be ratified. Years of war had drained the nation's coffers and emboldened the opposition in Parliament. His own secret fear was that the King, well-meaning but pig-headed, would reject all their agreements and plunge them back into war. Cornwallis was convinced that given the current situation, the treaty was the best England could hope for. There was no guarantee that further warfare could put them in a more advantageous position.
Quietly and rationally, he explained the dispositions to his officers—sketching out the situation in the North, where the New Englanders had withdrawn into their rocky little territory like a turtle into its shell. The struggles of the rebel representatives to forge a government for the Republic of New England was not his business today. The Crown had its agents, learning the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of the faithless former colonies. Their time would come: but not now.
New York City and its environs would be a military district, under the direct supervision of a military governor. Its strategic worth made it too important to leave to the colonists themselves. New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania had recognised the King's sovereignty, "with provisions." Cornwallis did not bother to discuss that tangled issue today. He was happy to be back in Virginia and far from the problems that would have to be faced there, plagued as those places were with bloody militia warfare on both sides. Virginia, Delaware, and Maryland, related by blood and culture, had together forged a nation, called "The United Commonwealth of America." Baltimore was to be its capital.
He said a little more about "The Loyal Colonies," referring to the Carolinas and Georgia. Forgotten was the fact that they too had had representatives in the Continental Congress and had signed the Declaration of Independence. All seemed forgiven. Many Loyalists would be rewarded, and only the border of North Carolina and Virginia would require much military presence here in the South.
"And that brings us to our present situation," he continued gravely. "We are today in the capital of British Virginia, which, like New York City, is to be a military district." Aides unrolled a large map, which was carefully arranged on an easel. "As you see, we are maintaining control of a large parcel of southeast Virginia. It is, for the most part, south of the James River, though of course we are keeping the peninsula here between the James and York Rivers. We will have a post on the tip of the Gloucester peninsula. We, too, had to make concessions."
Tavington could see that they had. Richmond was indeed gone, but only that part north of the James River, which flowed through the town. The part that encompassed the girls' properties. Sensible of Pattie to have sold out. No, wait. The grist mill was on the south side of the river. Oh, well. I daresay they didn't want it anyway.
Cornwallis was still speaking. "We shall make a formal withdrawal from Richmond on the 22nd. I shall be present at the ceremony. The forces of the 'United Commonwealth,' as they now call themselves, will be moving into the town." He saw Tavington leaning forward, looking at the map with knitted brow. "Yes," he said, "there are certain other changes. In exchange for Richmond, we obtained a redrawing of the map, giving a small triangle of land in the westernmost part of Virginia to British Kentucky. It was felt that clear possession of Cumberland Gap would be of great strategic value in the future. In the next few months, a planned settlement of the new Kentucky Colony will be arranged, the charter issued from the Crown, and the spring shall see it implemented. Some of us will find it a splendid new opportunity."
Cornwallis smiled. He did not share the news that he would almost certainly be the new Governor of Kentucky Colony, with immense land grants replacing those Ohio territories that had now been ceded to the Indians in perpetuity. He was very pleased about the exchange, feeling that it had been a great improvement. He had received communications from Judge Richard Henderson, who had bargained with the Indians for the land. Some consideration would be given the man, though he had far exceeded the legal limits of any private individual to treat with the native peoples on such a scale. Cornwallis was tremendously excited about the potential of the new colony, and had undertaken plans for a new city to be built on the Ohio River, that would command the river traffic and the territory around it. The current small settlements should not prove a problem. They could be easily absorbed into the new structure of the colony. The colony would be populated with veterans, both Loyalist and British, who would be pensioned off with land grants. These new, loyal colonists would be a bulwark against rebel expansion. Everything would be carefully planned from the very beginning. There would be civilisation and cultivation, commerce and even a college within a decade. It would be the crown of his life's work.
I shall build a splendid home. And then, I shall send for my children.
----
The Lord General's good spirits extended to the arranging of a ball, to celebrate the peace. It was to be held on the British side of the James River on the night of the 22nd, after the withdrawal. The Commonwealth 'Separatists,' as the polite now called them, had also been invited. General Washington, the Marquis de Lafayette, Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe, James Madison were all invited; with some gentlemanly assurances, it was finally agreed that all would attend. The Virginian separatists, after all, were guardedly satisfied. They had obtained self-rule of a territory no smaller than many European states. They were free to follow their own destiny. Those whose dreams had been of wider scope, of all the colonies joining together in a new nation spanning the Atlantic seaboard, reluctantly put those dreams by. After all, Nova Scotia had never joined with them in the rebellion. At least New England, though profoundly different in culture and outlook, had also remained true to the dream of freedom, and would likely prove a useful ally and trading partner.
The day dawned, and the formal departure of the British troops from Richmond was carried off faultlessly. The British marched over the bridge spanning the James toward their own camp in what was now to be called Kingston. The Lord General's headquarters were properly festive, and the ballroom nearly exploded with the luminaries present.
The British muffled their laughter, as a new joke spread. There had been some difficulty decided what to call the citizens of the United Commonwealth. Apparently, they were having trouble deciding themselves. "American" was not specific enough. "Commonwealther" too cumbersome. Patrick Ferguson, keeping his face perfectly straight, suggested calling them "Round Heads," in reference to the old Commonwealth during the English Civil War. The name was in danger of sticking, and when General Washington was announced, and did indeed prove to have a rather, large, round head, it was all the livelier elements of the British side could do to keep from bursting out laughing.
It was certainly a great ball, and destined to be one of the most famous in history, given the significance of the agreement fulfilled that day. The air was full of political gossip, and Tavington heard tantalising snatches as he danced with Polly. She looked startlingly beautiful, in a gown of pearl satin and a petticoat with a rich floral embroidery. Her eye-catching jewels, she informed Tavington, had been her late, unlamented aunt's.
He smiled, thinking that the necklace, of cameos and pendant pearls, was fortunate to be shown off on so lovely a neck as Polly's. He went so far as to say, "I'm sure the jewels look better on you than they ever did on your aunt."
"That is a very pretty speech. I thank you."
Groups of men, here and there, were in heated discussion as they danced by.
"---There was no question about it! Slaves cannot be granted their freedom by the British in exchange for military service. It had to be stopped or every slave in Virginia would be running south!"
"—but Franklin's situation is unique. He is a world famous philosopher, and could be granted amnesty for his son's sake. After all, William Franklin is being reinstated as the Royal Governor of New Jersey—"
"---and it should be clear to the Separatists by now that the one thing Britain will not endure is for Boston and Baltimore to become French naval bases! Merchant vessels are one thing, but—"
Groups of women, here and there, were sharing their opinions more quietly, but with as much passion.
"---he has another family, you know, with one of his----"
"---she was nothing but a campfollower!"
"---Is it true that the married woman of New England are to have property rights?"
"---and there she is, bold as brass! Shady, very shady! I've heard that they were three to a bed—"
"—No! I can't bear it!---Oh, well, tell me more!"
Polly's pretty, dimpled smile was strained. Tavington threw a frosty stare at the old cat who was regaling her friends with gossip about the Featherstones. The dance ended, and supper was announced.
-----
Thomas and Dinah went in to supper behind the rest of the crowd. The junior officers in attendance were sitting at tables far from the grandeur of Lord Cornwallis and General Washington. They were just as glad to be a table full of British and Loyal American officers and their ladies. It was a great deal more pleasant than eating a meal while trying to be diplomatic. Thomas looked at Dinah with great satisfaction: she had made a beautiful dress of sea-green silk. It was not expensively trimmed, and her jewels were only her narrow gold wedding ring, and small gold earrings. Her only lace was a double ruffle around her neck. Nonetheless, Thomas thought her the prettiest girl there, and not ridiculous and pretentious like some of the affected, over-fine ladies sitting with the great men and tittering behind their fans.
He was proud of her. Her manner was more genteel now, and she had learned to speak softly and write elegantly. Even a lady like Aunt Charlotte would have to approve of Dinah. He was wondering what it would be like to go home and show her off to his family, when Sam Willett got his attention.
"Tom, stop dreaming! I said, did you hear about the Kentucky land grants?""What land grants?"
"Tom, you mutton-head! I heard Colonel Ferguson and Captain Monroe talking. There are plans afoot to settle Kentucky Colony with veterans, starting next year. The holdings are based on rank—and I heard," he dropped his voice secretively, "that lieutenants will be given a thousand acres each! Think of that! One thousand acres of land free and clear!"
Dinah gasped. Thomas shook his head, "That's a lot of land. Are you sure?"
"Sure as shooting sure! They have it all figured. A hundred for a private, two hundred for a corporal, up to five hundred for a sergeant. Then, a thousand for a lieutenant, two for a captain, three for a major, five for a colonel, and for a general," he grinned, "whatever he can fancy-talk for himself. I heard that Lord Cornwallis may be getting more than fifty thousand acres!"
Thomas tried to imagine it. A thousand acres! That was twice the size of Fresh Water! His imagination soared. He saw himself, master of all he surveyed, a pillared white house in the background, row upon row of fertile soil yielding crops of unexampled abundance. Yes, Mr. Martin is one of our foremost citizens. He built the place with his own hands, and look at it now! Thomas saw barns full of stock, paddocks full of fine horses, himself prosperous, respected—
---And not in the army! Thomas gave his head a little shake. He had joined the army to get away from farms and farming, and here he was dreaming about them. Besides, if he were to take up farming again, he was planning on going back to Fresh Water. He looked at Dinah, who seemed wildly excited.
"I thought you said women had to work too hard on a farm," he said.
"But a thousand acres, Tom! That's like being a king! And I wouldn't have to do everything myself. We could hire some help, and then," she stopped, and then whispered in his ear, "Our little baby would have a home of his own, and wouldn't be living in lodgings and tents, even if they are pretty nice sometimes."
The guests were getting a little rowdy. The servers were having difficulty getting past one of the tables, where a group of artillery officers, both Loyal and rebel, were stopping anyone carrying wine, and were hoarding it at their table. Some of their friends at other tables complained, and the admonished officers started tossing bottles to them over the heads of alarmed guests sitting between them. One of their superiors was sent to calm the men down and words were exchanged. A group left, to take the discussion outside.
At length, stuffed with delicacies, they were called back to the ballroom to resume dancing. Dinah was starting to look tired, and Thomas decided there was no reason to stay much longer. He indulged her with a last reel. They were dancing to "Soldier's Joy," and Thomas was preparing to give hands across to the lady facing him, when he recognised her."Anne!"
It was Anne, prettily dressed, wearing his mother's star necklace, and almost too pregnant to have any business dancing. She stared at Thomas in astonishment, and the other dancers nearly trampled them. They hastily left the dance, and Dinah, seeing Thomas walking away, excused herself and left too.
Anne and Thomas stared at each other, feeling awkward . They were both very happy to see someone they knew from their home, but they also were aware of the other's political views. Thomas saw Dinah coming, and motioned to her eagerly.
"Dinah ! Here's someone you should meet! Anne, let me introduce my wife, Dinah Martin. Dinah, this is my brother Gabriel's wife, Anne."
Anne stared, "Your wife! Thomas, you're only sixteen!"
"Seventeen," he corrected her. "Anyway, we're married."
Anne mouth was still open, but she was assessing Dinah rapidly, her clothes, her face, her figure—and then she smiled coolly and curtseyed. "Pleased to meet you."
"I'm very happy to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Martin," Dinah murmured, terribly nervous. She managed a shy smile in her turn. Thomas had told her all about Gabriel and his Anne, and she was afraid unpleasant things might be said.
"It is you."
Thomas turned, and met his brother's level gaze. Gabriel was handsomely dressed in Continental blue. He moved to Anne's side and took her arm.
"Gabriel," Anne said, looking at her husband with wide eyes. "Thomas is married. This," she said, waving a hand in Dinah's direction, "is his wife."
Gabriel's face broke into the kind of smile that Thomas remembered from boyhood. "You're married!" Gabriel turned to Dinah, and gave her a very polite bow. "I am honoured to make the acquaintance of my brother's wife, ma'am."
Dinah coloured, and made her curtsey, feeling better about Thomas' relatives. "Thank you kindly, sir."
Gabriel raised his brows and remarked to Thomas. "A little young, maybe."
"Colonel Tavington gave his permission," Thomas replied defensively.
Gabriel's mouth tightened. "And of course, we all know that Colonel Tavington is the ideal arbiter of proper human behaviour…"
Thomas flushed and stood straighter.
Gabriel stopped, recollecting himself. "I won't say anything about your Colonel, Thomas. I know you think he walks on water." He cast a quick, compassionate glance at the unhappy Dinah. "I don't mean to worry you, ma'am."
Dinah said softly, "Colonel Tavington has been very good to us."
Anne ignored her. "So when were you married, Thomas? Does your father know?"
"Well," declared a familiar voice, "I do now."
"Father!" Thomas and Gabriel exclaimed together.
Ben Martin, well-but-hastily dressed, beamed at his sons, and embraced each. His hair was escaping from its queue, and some of his buttons were undone. "Gabriel—Thomas—" he turned, and gave Anne a polite bow and smile. "Anne."
Thomas could not believe it. "How did you---I mean, it's like a miracle."
Martin smiled like a naughty boy. "Not at all. I knew Thomas was in Virginia. I knew British headquarters was in Williamsburg. So instead of going straight home to Charlestown, I broke my journey by taking a shorter voyage to Williamsburg in hopes of seeing you. I arrived and found out about the ball, and rode here as fast as I could. What's like a miracle is finding both my sons."
Gabriel was genuinely pleased. "And you were able to get an invitation to the ball, and—"
Martin lowered his voice confidentially. "Well, I wasn't actually invited. I just—sort of arrived and walked in. Anyway there's quite a fight going on outside and the guards are looking at that. Strange though: it looks like British and Continental artillery are fighting on the same side this time." He turned to Dinah, who was hiding behind Thomas.
"And you must be my newest daughter." He bowed, "I am very happy to meet you. I'm sure you are as good as you are pretty."Dinah blushed and nearly wept with relief. "Thank you, sir." Wisely, she did not attempt to say more.
"Father," said Thomas, "this is Dinah. We were married three weeks ago."
Benjamin Martin was far from pleased, but knew it would be useless to show it. Young people would be silly and thoughtless, and marriage to a pretty, gentle young girl was not the worst thing Thomas could have been up to. She seemed nice enough, if very shy, and could not possibly be as opinionated and willful as Anne.
He looked again at Anne, and asked, "You are well? The baby—"
She smiled more frankly this time, showing all her many teeth. "Yes, I'm very well, and the baby is too." She saw Dinah's eager curiosity, and volunteered, "In December. We're to have a Christmas baby."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Dinah congratulated her.
Some other guests had noticed Ben Martin, and the whispers began. "Thomas/Gabriel Martin's father. Yes—That Benjamin Martin. Recaptured the ship from the French, and killed nearly the entire crew……"
Thomas told his father, "You've been spoken of everywhere! That was some fighting, taking over the ship like that!"
Gabriel looked gravely at his father, "Everywhere is right. I read about it too. You were right to defend yourself. No one can say otherwise."
His father gave him an understanding nod, and led his sons and his sons' wives out of the ballroom. One of the sitting rooms was nearly empty. He was already considering what to do with the few days he had allotted to this side trip, before taking ship for Charlestown. He must buy a good wedding present for Thomas and ----Dinah! He would find a nice piece of jewelry for the girl, since he had given the star pendant to Anne. Then he would get them—what?—something good, something lasting, something portable. Some books? A pair of silver candlesticks? He would think it over. Gabriel, too, should have some substantial token of his family's love.
In the meantime, he would find out his sons' plans. Gabriel, he knew, would probably be remaining in the Commonwealth, but Thomas? Perhaps he would come home. He could at least suggest it.
-----
Tavington was looking for Polly. He had been caught by O'Hara and Hamilton, both interested in knowing his views about the settlement of the Kentucky Colony. The grants were tempting for many of the officers, but there would also be a need to keep the standing army fully staffed. Tavington was definite that he was not going to Kentucky himself. Despite Elizabeth's possible holdings there, he doubted she would ever leave Arcadia for the frontier. The grant would be useful someday, no doubt, and would become more valuable as the colony was settled up and land prices rose.
He finally escaped the masculine gossip of politics, promotion, and land fever, and returned to the ball room. He eyes swept the room, and found many others, but not the woman he wanted. There was Ferguson, spry, dapper, and merry, with his lovely bride. He hoped Pattie would not be joining the great land rush westward. He still had hopes of him as a neighbor: there were even some good arguments for it. Pattie would want to be nearer civilisation when it came time to send off the book he was planning for publication. He would want to have access to a seaport if he were ever to visit home again, which he was still talking about. Elizabeth had written, listing some very good estates within a day of Arcadia. And of course, there was no need for Pattie to buy a working plantation. He and Sally could live very well from her income and his half-pay and other resources. They could purchase a fine house in Charlestown, and Pattie would be a leading figure in the town's social and intellectual life.
He was not sure that Sally and Elizabeth would have much in common. Elizabeth would appreciate Sally's beauty and zest for life, and would respect her obvious devotion to her husband. Sally would respect Elizabeth's refinement and good sense, her love for her family. It was a start.
But where was Polly? He wanted to dance again with one of the prettiest women in the room.
Wilkins, towering over a group of officers, smiled at him across the room. Tavington responded politely. There was another problem. Wilkins was really not a bad fellow, and had certainly served loyally, but Tavington was not ready to have him underfoot constantly. Undoubtedly he would be staying at Arcadia for awhile until he could rebuild his own home. How long would that take? Still, Tavington could pursue his old plan of marrying Wilkins off to Charlotte Montgomery. That would remove both Wilkins and the plague of Montgomerys from daily intercourse.
Tavington passed by a group of ladies, evidently not of the Loyal sort, for they eyed him up and down in a hostile, furtive way. He resisted the urge to say "boo!" to them. Where was Polly?
He caught a glimpse of chestnut brown hair and pearl satin. Yes! She was sitting now, chatting with someone. There was an officer on either side of her, and another hanging about leaning from behind her chair. He recognised Allaire, from Ferguson's American Volunteers, and Duncan Monroe and Alan Cameron from the British Legion. No one could accuse her of being flirtatious. She looked tired, and perhaps had had enough of hearing gossip about herself for one night. Tavington headed in her direction, but before he could reach her, Monroe was leading her to the dance. Tavington leaned against the wall, watching her, feeling jealous and aggrieved.
They made an attractive couple. Monroe was nearly as tall as Wilkins. Tavington recalled that Monroe was a Virginian, like Polly. He had rebel cousins here tonight, and they had snubbed him when their paths had crossed. Monroe had lost his home, and situated where it was, far to the north, there was no hope that he would ever regain it. Probably he would be one of the most eager to apply for one the Kentucky grants.
Restlessly, he noted that they seemed to be having a good time. Polly was smiling now, and they were talking together with some animation. Tavington began to grow angry. Ordinarily he liked Monroe, but his behaviour tonight was beyond all bounds! How dare he engross Polly with his idle chatter!
He was so irritated, that when a friendly voice demanded his attention, he turned on the speaker rather angrily. Pattie looked back at him, brows raised in puzzlement.
"Sorry," muttered Tavington, his blood still pumping. "I'm rather out of sorts."
"Polly seems to think well of yon Monroe."
"They're just dancing, Pattie.""Oh, aye, very true. He's come calling, three—maybe four times. And those are the ones I know about." Pattie sighed. "She must find her own way. We canna be unfair—that is, Sally and I—and expect her be the spinster sister at our beck and call."
"No," agreed Tavington, sighing himself. "I can see that. And Monroe is not a bad sort. She could do better, though."
"Well," Pattie pointed out delicately, "that's for Polly to decide."
Sally appeared just then, giving a brilliant, fearless smile to a pair of disapproving hens. "Polly looks lovely, doesn't she?"
"Yes," Tavington answered. "We were just talking about all the attention she's been receiving. Pattie says Captain Monroe has been calling."
Sally patted his arm, and spoke frankly. "He's always fancied her, even before we became rich and suddenly respectable. I noticed it months ago--as far back as King's Mountain. He even tried to speak to her a few times, but she discouraged him pretty thoroughly. Since the wedding, though, he's been back."
Pattie observed mildly to his wife, "Will thinks she could do better."
Sally cast Tavington a sideways glance, that told him she understood him too well. She said pointedly, "Colonel Tavington has been a good friend to Polly. I'm sure he wants what's best for her. We all do."
They think I'm in love with Polly! Tavington realised. His next, uncomfortable thought was: Am I? Tavington felt himself flush, and knew he had been acting the dog in the manger. He could offer Polly nothing but a clandestine romance. She deserved more.
Feeling confused and ashamed, he excused himself, and decided to go outside and clear his head. There had been some sort of brawl by the entrance, and some of the male guests were still discussing it excitedly.
He must go home. He must stop mooning over Polly. He must see Elizabeth right away. His thoughts came in rapid succession. They had peace enough that he could request leave and spend a month or two in South Carolina. He would take ship for Charlestown, and reach Arcadia in less than ten days. Once at Arcadia, he would have time to think for awhile, and plan his future wisely. He had nearly forgotten Elizabeth's face. And Julia, too! How glad they would be to see him. He could be home for his child's birth.
He stood under the clear night sky, admiring the stars. Arcadia. It was just what he needed.
-----
Notes: No story points up the sad consequences of civil war more than the situation in Benjamin Franklin's family. The distinguished scientist was, of course, a guiding light of the Revolution. His son William, the governor of New Jersey, was a Loyalist and fled to England during the war. Thus, the grandson was forced to choose between his father and his beloved grandfather. Ultimately, due to geographical constraints, he was permanently separated from his father, who settled in England in our timeline.
George Washington's mother is often described as a Tory (Loyalist), but I am not sure she really was. She was a horrible old psycho who did whatever it took to humiliate her son. I won't get into the anecdotes of the things she said and did.
Thank you to my Loyal reviewers: As I grow closer to the end of the story, I wish to express my appreciation for your encouragement and support.
SlytherinDragoon: Thanks for the suggestion! I've thought long and hard about the Featherstones. It's a rough patch in many ways for them, but Polly is a very resilient young woman.Yes, I thought Dinah should meet the Martins. I thought it over for a while, and saw no logical reason it would be impossible for them to meet at the peace festivities. In fact, I decided that Ben, knowing it could be years—maybe never—before he has the chance to travel again, would strongly consider breaking his journey in the hopes of seeing Thomas; especially since he would know that the British were holding a comparatively small area in Virginia. I'm not sure yet if Thomas and Dinah will actually go to SC.
Pigeonsfromhell: Thanks! I'm trying to show how being far apart for a long time can affect even a happy couple. Tavington's been with the army and focused on the events around him so long that he's stopped thinking about Elizabeth and Arcadia as often. Absence doesn't always make the heart grow fonder. And remember what I said: people write fanfiction in all sorts of ways for all sorts of reasons!Zubeneschamali: Thanks for your insight! As you see, I found a way for Dinah to get some polish. And money didn't make Polly's problems go away, certainly, but it changed what kind of problems she had! By the way, David McKay is quite different in this story. The comparative success of British arms kept him from become disillusioned and disloyal. He's off to Kentucky next year, but in a far better frame of mind (though without Amelia, obviously). There's no way to write a decisive British victory after 1778, or even after 1776. The situation should never have come to war. The drivers were all asleep at the wheel.
Ladymarytavington: Thanks! Yes, complications arose, but I tried to make Thomas deal with them in a realistic way! He is a nice boy, after all.
LCWA: Thanks! Oh, how I have beaten my brains out trying to come up with alternative outcomes. It's hard work, but very interesting. New England is a rather cohesive unit, and I could see them sticking together fairly effectively. One of the most interesting things about the Revolution is that resistance to the British came first and strongest in the oldest colonies: Virginia and Massachusetts. Loyalists typically were either colonial officials, members of the Anglican Church (Episcopalians), or recent-to-second generation immigrants. All of these people had strong ties to Great Britain. In the colonies with strong Loyalist movements, you have a high proportion of recent immigrants to the total population.
Nomorebraces: Thanks! I'm glad you like the outcomes for Thomas and Polly. Yes, money helps. Of course, in the universe of my original story, Et In Arcadia Ego, Polly also had the inheritance, but since she never returned to Virginia, she never knew about it, and never received it. And I really didn't have the heart to dump Dinah. I couldn't imagine a sweet-natured boy like Thomas dumping her, either.
Wolfgal: Thanks! I'm kind of sad it's winding down, too.
Carolina Girl: Thank you for your lengthy review. You've hit on all the main threads I'm trying to tie together. It's been interesting, trying to write alternate history. I have to research, and then extrapolate different outcomes from the things that actually happened. As to Dinah—how much the family will ever really know about her is doubtful. Ben of course will ask a lot of questions when he gets Thomas alone. I may not show that particular conversation, but I will show the spin that Thomas put on her background. And no, Thomas and Dinah will not tell them about the baby right now. After the ball, obviously, Thomas and Dinah will not see Gabriel and Anne again, so Anne will not be a player in their family situation. (thank goodness!) Tavington's objections to Dinah were very class-related. Even if she had been a perfectly virtuous girl, Tavington would have thought her unsuitable to be the wife of an officer and a gentleman. And as to Tavington and the army: I've made him realise that he needs to get away and think things over before making a life-changing decision.
Next chapter: Destiny's Threads Untangled –Will they all live happily ever after?