Following his stingingly off-handed dismissal by the Lord General, Tavington had a few quick and biting words with the carriage driver about returning the vehicle to Charlestown immediately and then stomped off in the direction of the manor's side entrance. Bordon stared after him a moment, then remembered his horse and had it taken to the stables while he assisted the shaken private who'd ridden it there in finding his legs enough to climb into the coach for return to the city.
Tavington, Bordon and a number of other officers of lesser rank had taken rooms above the house's servant quarters, while the Generals had larger rooms on the other side of the manor. The Colonel slipped in through the side door, which served as an entrance to one of the kitchens, letting it slam shut behind him before storming up the narrow flight of stairs toward his room. In this part of the house, a number of small bedrooms were arranged on either side of a long hallway. The occupants of these rooms changed every day or two, with officers coming and going as some units left and others returned. The quarters were far from fancy in their appointments, but adequate and comfortable, making for a nice change to those officers coming in from weeks of sleeping on simple cots in the field.
Reaching his room at the end of the hall, Tavington entered and closed the door behind him quickly, leaning back against it. His hands knotted tightly behind his back and he clenched his teeth as he stood there completely still for several minutes, allowing his temper to cool some before walking further into the room in fear that he might unleash it in a way that might damage the already limited furniture.
'Damn Cornwallis! Sir Henry's only been gone for two days(1) and already he bloody acts as if he were the King himself!'
A sudden tapping on the other side of the door startled him. Straightening himself, Tavington turned and opened it a crack. He was met by a rather large bottle of wine held at eye level, blocking his view of whoever held it on the other side.
"Thought I heard you come in, Tav! Lookit what I managed to liberate from the home of a naughty Rebel in Georgetown... vintage '63! Not bad, eh?"
Tavington rolled his eyes, "When did you get back?"
"Two hours ago. I'd been taking the time to 'reacquaint' myself with the maid staff downstairs when I thought I heard you oh-so-quietly sneak in." The bottle lowered to reveal the roguishly grinning face of relatively short man in his mid-twenties. Despite his small size and boyish features, Lt. Colonel Banastre Tarleton was powerfully built and projected an air of absolute confidence.
Tavington sighed and walked away from the door, which Tarleton promptly pushed open. "Thank you so much for that lovely mental image... Isn't it a bit early in the day for drinking, Ban?" He sat down at the small oak desk that was positioned near the room's single window and sifted through the stack of papers that one of the clerks had delivered earlier in the morning.
Tarleton laughed and shut the door behind him, "Why, if it were possible I'd say you seem even grumpier than usual!" He crossed the room and stood opposite the desk, setting down the bottle and a pair of glasses. "So, what's the matter? You might as well tell me, because if you don't you know I'll just get it from Bordon later!" He grinned and drew a small knife from his belt, using it to pry the cork out of the bottle.
Tavington cast him a reproachful look which didn't phase Tarleton at all, the latter arching an eyebrow and grinning even wider. Tavington's expression softened and he raised his hands slightly in a gesture of surrender. Ban poured each of them a glass from the bottle and held his up in a quick salute before taking a gulp as Tavington began to relate the morning's events.
"I had one of my little exchanges with his Lordship a while ago." His teeth grated audibly, "He had Bordon and I ride down to Charlestown to pick up his brat niece, Emily..."
Ban sputtered and coughed violently, causing a spray of droplets to spatter most of the paperwork on Tavington's desk with patterns of fine red spots.
"Emily Durnham?! Here? You're pulling my leg..."
Tavington glared at Ban, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the spots before they soaked permanently into the papers' fibers.
"Hardly.. she came in through Charleston earlier today. Yours-truly had the luck of being chosen to meet her when she arrived." Tavington rolled his eyes. "But come now, Ban, I thought you were up-to-date on the comings and goings of every female within fifty miles!" Realizing his efforts at wiping up the mess were doing little more than turning red spots into red smears, he cast the soiled kerchief aside and gathered the papers into a rough stack.
Panic colored Tarleton's normally jovial face. "By God, I guess you aren't joking! Well.. if that's true, let me be the first to warn you- that girl's a demon! Take my advice and stay as far away from her as..."
A smile suddenly cracked Tavington's features and he laughed loudly, tilting back in his chair casually and bringing both of his feet to a rest on the top of the desk.
"Oh come now, Ban! Your exaggerations, entertaining as they may be at times, are surely overblown in this case.. Granted, she is Cornwallis' niece, which is enough in itself to guess at the quality of her personality, but I've met this girl! She seems harmless enough..."
"Fine then, take your chances!" Ban's expression was haughty. "I tell you, by the end of one week in the company of that girl you'll be drinking yourself blind down at the town pub- which is fine by me, because it'll give you the opportunity to buy me a few drinks while we discuss my 'exaggerations'..."
Tavington raised an eyebrow challengingly, "The pub, eh? Thank God I'm not in the habit of taking my papers down there... At any rate, how are you acquainted with this 'demon'?"
Tarleton took another sip of his drink, "That's a story for another time, I'm afraid." He wrinkled his nose and looked down at the glass, swirling the contents a bit. "I've got to go make my report to Cornwallis. I'll leave you with that bottle... it seems these southern Colonials know nothing about the proper storage of wine." He downed the rest of the glass with a grimace before turning toward the door.
"Be forewarned he's probably still in the company of your little Angrboda(2)..." Tavington took an experimental little sip from his own glass. He blanched and coughed, quickly setting the glass back down and pushing it as far away from him as the small surface of the desk would allow.
Tarleton halted with his hand on the doorknob. "Hm... you're probably right. Maybe I can convince one of the sweet ladies downstairs to have a peek in on him and see if the coast is clear before I head over there." With a final smirk he slipped out the door, leaving Tavington to his paperwork and curious thoughts about everything Ban hadn't said...
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Notes- 1) If the story is accurate with the real historical timeline, then today would be June 10th according to Tavy, as Clinton departed for New York on the 8th.
2) Angrboda is a giant demoness often referred to as the "Bringer of Sorrow". She was supposedly the consort of Loki, a half-god/half-demon that would bring about the end of the world. I thought this a suitable connection for Tavy to draw between Emily and Cornwallis, assuming he read of the myth somewhere ;) On a side note, Angrboda is said to have given birth to three monsters, Fenrir (a giant wolf), Jormungand (a vicious serpent), and Hel (the ruler of the dead)... draw your own connections to our three boys. More on this myth can be found at http://www.vikingage.com/vac/lokis-kids.html