Author's Note: I was glad to hear
that Ban's part in chapter 4 was enjoyable ^_^ I assure you he wasnt just
a one-shot cameo, and to prove it, here he is again later in chapter 5!
This is a long one, so hope you guys like it! Since all the preliminary
stuff is finished by the end of chapter 5, direct tie-ins to the plotline
of the movie start here. I've done my best to make connections to what
was ACTUALLY going on historically in the same timeframe and make the movie
fiction fit in as best I could. I've marked the factual warpings I've created
in doing so, but apologize for any mistakes I may have missed. Numbered
reference notes are included at the end of each chapter.
-------------------------
Chapter 5- For the Sake of Appearances
Emily sipped her tea quietly and surveyed her surroundings. The study Cornwallis had claimed as his office was a room of generous size and lavish décor. It amazed her how quickly her uncle had managed to personalize the place. She looked up at the painting of her late aunt, hung in a prominent position above the study's centerpiece, a large and ornately carved cherry wood desk.
Since the Lord General stepped out of the office a few moments previously to meet with some minor officer, Emily took the opportunity to reflect on the events since her arrival at Middleton Place. Her introductions to the owners of the plantation and to her uncle's subordinate, General O'Hara, had been pleasant enough. O'Hara was a cheerful sort, and Emily had found his unique accent(1) quite charming. A shame that he'd excused himself so soon, but it was understandable in light of his cold. The man really hadn't looked well, despite his efforts to seem otherwise. The Middletons were kind people as well. They were an older couple with two adult children, a daughter married to a lawyer in New York and a son who'd been Emily's age when he was killed at Bennington in '77. Mrs. Lillian Middleton had related this and the history of the plantation as she'd given Emily a quick tour of the house and grounds.
Emily frowned at the thought and set her teacup back on its saucer. War was a dirty business, but there was something so real about it. She rose from her chair and walked to the study's large set of windows, looking out over the great expanse of the army camp. It was a constant mill of activity, with units conducting small drills and stable attendants putting the cavalry horses through their paces. On the main road into camp, a steady stream of mounted messengers and supply wagons were continuously coming and going, kicking up swirling clouds of dust in their wake.
'What would these men be doing, if not for the war?' Emily rested her hands on the windowsill and leaned close to the glass, absorbing the sight. 'Rotting away on farms or making petty business... isn't this better than all that?' Freedom, adventure, and best of all, it meant something. She envied them. It was a feeling that forcefully rose up in her so swiftly and powerfully that she wanted to scream. Instead she forced it back down as she always did, feeling it tighten into a writhing knot in her stomach. That knot was always there, like a vicious little caged animal eager to escape. She feared that sometime it might do just that, and when it did it would tear, bite and claw all the way out. But the creature was always patient and bided its time, waiting until she was alone to stir in its confines, taking every opportunity to remind her of its presence.
The sound of the door opening sent the beast slinking into a dark corner for the time being, and she painted herself with a winning smile before turning toward the entry. Cornwallis looked pleased as he gave the door a light push closed, a small ream of papers in his hand.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, my dear," he said as he returned to the large and comfortable chair behind the broad desk.
"Not at all, uncle." Emily returned to her own chair at the General's side and sank down into it, picking her teacup up again. "I know you must be busy, and don't worry, I hardly expect the war to halt just to accommodate my little visit." She smiled and sipped her tea slowly.
"I know you don't, but part of me wishes it could all the same." Cornwallis smiled regretfully, "On that note however, I'm afraid I've some disappointing news."
Emily's eyes widened with worry and she lowered the cup from her lips, "Oh no, has something happened? That report... was it bad news?"
"No, no... actually it was quite good news, as far as the war is concerned, but on a personal front it's quite regrettable. You see, I'd planned to throw a nice little welcoming party for you here, to take place two days from now, but based on this," the General raised the paper in his hand, "I'm afraid it's going to have to be delayed... You see, there's a matter which requires my personal attention, and it's going to take a few days. Fort Carolina is nearly complete and I must supervise its completion to ensure all has been prepared in a satisfactory manner."
Emily tried to look and sound disappointed, "Oh uncle, you needn't worry about me. I'm sure it would have been a lovely party, but I understand that such matters to do with the war cannot wait." On a more honest note, she frowned and added, "But I will most certainly miss you having to leave so soon... may I accompany you to the Fort?"
Cornwallis sighed and shook his head, "I'm afraid it's better that you stay here until I return. The area is still not completely secured from threat of the Rebels and I'd feel better knowing you were here where it's safe. They'd never strike here with most of our army camped outside! The Middletons are good people and if you need anything while I'm gone don't hesitate to ask them." Emily's hand rested on the desk, and he patted it reassuringly. "I promise to return as soon as possible. Hopefully preparations can be finished quickly, and I should be back by Friday." His expression brightened with a smile, "At any rate, we've about an hour before I will be leaving, so how about accompanying your dear old uncle on a stroll through the gardens?"
Emily laughed lightly and grinned, "General, sir, I would be delighted!"
------------------
Mrs. Middleton's garden was large and beautifully maintained. All of the plants were local species, most of which Emily had never seen before and found quite interesting. General Cornwallis pointed out those plants he'd come to know in his time there, and she did her best to remember their names. To the regret of both however, the hour passed quickly and a staff sergeant soon came to inform the Lord General that his escort was ready to leave for Fort Carolina.
Emily embraced her uncle and said goodbye on the same steps where they'd greeted one another a scant few hours earlier. She stood on the landing and watched the group depart until they vanished in the distance before she turned and walked back into the house. Closing the door behind her, she sighed quietly and leaned back against the doorframe, staring down at the neatly polished floor of the foyer. Emily could hear the sound of men laughing somewhere else in the large house, and a flutter of nervousness passed through her. She realized then that she'd miss more of her uncle than his company. With him around, she had someone she knew nearby, someone she could trust. Now she was alone, an ocean away from her home in England, in a house full of strangers.
She heard footsteps approaching and was relieved to see Mrs. Middleton come around the corner. The older woman noticed Emily's agitation and smiled kindly, "Well now, what are you doing in here all alone? You must be exhausted after all your travel today. Come on, I'll show you back to your room. I'm afraid my little tour for you earlier was so hurried, you must have quite forgotten where it is!" Lillian took Emily's hand gently and led her off through the house. The pair cut through one of the richly decorated parlors where three finely uniformed officers were conversing at the far end of the room. Emily failed to notice the man in a green dragoon jacket quickly turn and hide his face behind a book as they entered, listening as Mrs. Middleton pointed out that her baggage had arrived and been taken to her room.
---------------
Ban Tarleton heaved a heavy sigh of relief as the pair disappeared through a far doorway and tossed the book onto a nearby table. Bordon looked up from his drink, confused by Tarleton's odd behavior and the even stranger grin that had formed on the face of William Tavington, who was lounging on a nearby couch with a drink of his own. At the same time he tried to hide his disappointment that Emily hadn't looked in their direction and seen him, as he'd raised his hand in greeting when they entered, but the pair of women breezed through the room so quickly neither noticed.
He set his glass down on the table next to Ban's discarded book and looked at the two Colonels questioningly, "What are you two on about?"
The trio had been raiding Mr. Middleton's bourbon cabinet and planning the patrol the dragoons and Legion infantry would be conducting the next day. Orders for the action had been included in the stack of papers delivered to Colonel Tavington earlier, and while Ban was disappointed at not having much time to rest before going out again, he was certainly eager to escape the possibility of a chance encounter with Emily. Lillian Middleton openly disapproved of her aged husband's drinking, citing it was bad for his already less than perfect health, and had snuck the three officers the key to the cabinet under his nose, hoping they'd clean it out before he noticed.
Tavington stretched and snagged a bottle of liquor from the same table and refilled his glass as he quirked an eyebrow at his fellow dragoon. "Yes, Ban, why don't you clue us in on what it is about our esteemed commander's niece that sends the head of his Majesty's Legion scurrying for cover?" His tone was good-natured, even playful: a distinct change from his usually surliness. Being in Tarleton's company seemed to have that effect on everyone, and apparently not even Tavington was immune. Bordon suspected, however, that the Lord General's recent departure played a far larger role in his commander's newly found good mood. Bordon himself rarely drank but had given into Ban's prodding and accepted a single glass of the fine, rust colored bourbon.
Now it was the two older officers who prodded and Ban who stood silent, pouring his attention on a map spread across the table in front of him. Obviously he wasn't eager to tell the tale. Bordon nudged him with his elbow.
"You know Ms. Durnham?" Now he truly was curious.
Ban tapped the toe of his highly polished boot against one of the table's legs, his face reddening slightly. "Well, knew, yes..."
In his reclined position, Tavington drained his glass and filled it once more, thoroughly enjoying Ban's obvious discomfort. "It seems Colonel Tarleton has a less than positive opinion of our new arrival, though he quite neatly sidestepped telling me why when I questioned him on it earlier. Don't think you'll get away twice, Ban." There was an edge to his voice that made the statement seem threatening, despite his playful manner.
Tarleton sighed and sunk into one of the plush parlor chairs. Since he and Tavington held the same provisional rank, Tavington couldn't order him to disclose anything, but the two had been working together closely since arriving in South Carolina and Ban knew William's disposition quite well. Once his mind was set on something, he was not to be avoided, much less reasoned with. While he wasn't intimidated, he often gave into the older officer when their opinions differed, in the field and off it. Their methods of command were endlessly different, but Tarleton looked up to Tavington in many ways. Few other officers had the guts to stand up to Cornwallis and the other generals like he did, and while Tarleton had no disagreements with the commanders himself, he admired Tavington's willingness to conduct himself and his dragoons as he saw fit- regardless of how others might view his actions.
Ban frowned, "I don't doubt you wont let me out of this room until I do tell it, so fine, I surrender! See, about fifteen years ago..."
"Fifteen years? You would'of bin children!" Tavington slurred a bit, as the bourbon was finally starting to get to him.
Tarleton glared and crossed his arms, "Do you want me to tell it or not? 'Not' suits me just fine."
"Sorry, sorry," Tavington smirked and set down his now empty glass, fixing his full attention on Ban. As full as possible, anyway, for the alcohol was starting to make his mind wander.
"As I was saying, about fifteen years ago my father was running a moderately large import business out of London- you know, bringing in various sorts of rarities- fine furniture from the Continent, china and other bits of glassware, you get the idea. Anyway, Gregory Durnham, the demon's father, had a minor investment in the company and was also a frequent customer, so he and my father had a sort of professional relationship. We used to be invited to their parties, and my father would meet with Mr. Durnham occasionally to discuss matters relating to the business. Not long after this arrangement began, my father decided to haul me along to one of these meetings. I would have been about ten years old at the time."
Ban paused reflectively, "We went by carriage to the Durnham home, grand big thing in the posh section of the city. I'm sure the whole afternoon would have been quite uneventful if not for the fact that a certain little monster was lurking in wait there. While my father and Mr. Durnham met in the study, they left me to 'get acquainted' with Mrs. Durnham and their children in one of the parlors. It all seemed well and good, until she came in... She tore into the room like a pack of wolves, screaming about something or other. I think she must have been about five. Once she set eyes on me, I was done for."
"It may seem hard to believe now," Ban smirked, "But at the time, being as I was only ten, I had an extreme distaste for company of the female sort. Ms. Durnham seemed to catch onto this instinctively, and proceeded to impose herself on me in every way possible. It started with giving me a full tour of their house, much to her mother's amusement, but it hardly stopped there.. oh no.. Before I knew it, the little beast was everywhere I went! She actually insisted to her father that I be brought to all of their meetings, and that's in addition to my required attendance whenever we received an invite to the Durnham's various social gatherings. I was suddenly 'Emily's little friend' and all of my friends mocked me for it! She made my life hell for a year and a half! After that, my father changed businesses and Mr. Durnham found his new commodity(2), well... distasteful... and their dealings came to an end, which freed me from her clutches. I can happily say I hadn't seen her since, until today. Of course, I knew she and Cornwallis were related, but I never thought she'd actually come here!" Tarleton's look was one of pure distress.
Bordon and Tavington stared blankly at Ban in silence for a few moments, and before simultaneously bursting into raving fits of laughter. Tavington, in his tipsy state, managed to laugh himself right off the couch and onto the floor where he landed with a thud.
Ban looked down at him disapprovingly, his expression both hurt and reproachful. "Alright, alright! Now that you two've had your little laugh at my expense, can we finish our planning for tomorrow?"
Bordon patted Tarleton's shoulder apologetically and tried to suppress his grin, "Sorry, Ban, but you must admit it is quite funny. Are you really taking a little childhood grudge so seriously? I'm sure you have nothing to worry about her now... if there's a 'pack of wolves' in this house now, it's US!"
Tavington collected himself off the floor, his own smile quickly dissolving. "Indeed... Let's finish preparing our hunt, shall we?"
---------------------------------
Notes: 1) The real O'Hara was commandant of the British Africa Corp in Senegal for about 10 years before taking part in this war. While I haven't found any actual reference to suggest his acquiring an accent, he did speak the native language and I figure ten years of that might have tinged his already Irish accent.
2) Tarleton's father was in the slave trade. I don't know if he had any business before that, so my mention of him running an import company is purely fictional.
-------------------------
Emily sipped her tea quietly and surveyed her surroundings. The study Cornwallis had claimed as his office was a room of generous size and lavish décor. It amazed her how quickly her uncle had managed to personalize the place. She looked up at the painting of her late aunt, hung in a prominent position above the study's centerpiece, a large and ornately carved cherry wood desk.
Since the Lord General stepped out of the office a few moments previously to meet with some minor officer, Emily took the opportunity to reflect on the events since her arrival at Middleton Place. Her introductions to the owners of the plantation and to her uncle's subordinate, General O'Hara, had been pleasant enough. O'Hara was a cheerful sort, and Emily had found his unique accent(1) quite charming. A shame that he'd excused himself so soon, but it was understandable in light of his cold. The man really hadn't looked well, despite his efforts to seem otherwise. The Middletons were kind people as well. They were an older couple with two adult children, a daughter married to a lawyer in New York and a son who'd been Emily's age when he was killed at Bennington in '77. Mrs. Lillian Middleton had related this and the history of the plantation as she'd given Emily a quick tour of the house and grounds.
Emily frowned at the thought and set her teacup back on its saucer. War was a dirty business, but there was something so real about it. She rose from her chair and walked to the study's large set of windows, looking out over the great expanse of the army camp. It was a constant mill of activity, with units conducting small drills and stable attendants putting the cavalry horses through their paces. On the main road into camp, a steady stream of mounted messengers and supply wagons were continuously coming and going, kicking up swirling clouds of dust in their wake.
'What would these men be doing, if not for the war?' Emily rested her hands on the windowsill and leaned close to the glass, absorbing the sight. 'Rotting away on farms or making petty business... isn't this better than all that?' Freedom, adventure, and best of all, it meant something. She envied them. It was a feeling that forcefully rose up in her so swiftly and powerfully that she wanted to scream. Instead she forced it back down as she always did, feeling it tighten into a writhing knot in her stomach. That knot was always there, like a vicious little caged animal eager to escape. She feared that sometime it might do just that, and when it did it would tear, bite and claw all the way out. But the creature was always patient and bided its time, waiting until she was alone to stir in its confines, taking every opportunity to remind her of its presence.
The sound of the door opening sent the beast slinking into a dark corner for the time being, and she painted herself with a winning smile before turning toward the entry. Cornwallis looked pleased as he gave the door a light push closed, a small ream of papers in his hand.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, my dear," he said as he returned to the large and comfortable chair behind the broad desk.
"Not at all, uncle." Emily returned to her own chair at the General's side and sank down into it, picking her teacup up again. "I know you must be busy, and don't worry, I hardly expect the war to halt just to accommodate my little visit." She smiled and sipped her tea slowly.
"I know you don't, but part of me wishes it could all the same." Cornwallis smiled regretfully, "On that note however, I'm afraid I've some disappointing news."
Emily's eyes widened with worry and she lowered the cup from her lips, "Oh no, has something happened? That report... was it bad news?"
"No, no... actually it was quite good news, as far as the war is concerned, but on a personal front it's quite regrettable. You see, I'd planned to throw a nice little welcoming party for you here, to take place two days from now, but based on this," the General raised the paper in his hand, "I'm afraid it's going to have to be delayed... You see, there's a matter which requires my personal attention, and it's going to take a few days. Fort Carolina is nearly complete and I must supervise its completion to ensure all has been prepared in a satisfactory manner."
Emily tried to look and sound disappointed, "Oh uncle, you needn't worry about me. I'm sure it would have been a lovely party, but I understand that such matters to do with the war cannot wait." On a more honest note, she frowned and added, "But I will most certainly miss you having to leave so soon... may I accompany you to the Fort?"
Cornwallis sighed and shook his head, "I'm afraid it's better that you stay here until I return. The area is still not completely secured from threat of the Rebels and I'd feel better knowing you were here where it's safe. They'd never strike here with most of our army camped outside! The Middletons are good people and if you need anything while I'm gone don't hesitate to ask them." Emily's hand rested on the desk, and he patted it reassuringly. "I promise to return as soon as possible. Hopefully preparations can be finished quickly, and I should be back by Friday." His expression brightened with a smile, "At any rate, we've about an hour before I will be leaving, so how about accompanying your dear old uncle on a stroll through the gardens?"
Emily laughed lightly and grinned, "General, sir, I would be delighted!"
------------------
Mrs. Middleton's garden was large and beautifully maintained. All of the plants were local species, most of which Emily had never seen before and found quite interesting. General Cornwallis pointed out those plants he'd come to know in his time there, and she did her best to remember their names. To the regret of both however, the hour passed quickly and a staff sergeant soon came to inform the Lord General that his escort was ready to leave for Fort Carolina.
Emily embraced her uncle and said goodbye on the same steps where they'd greeted one another a scant few hours earlier. She stood on the landing and watched the group depart until they vanished in the distance before she turned and walked back into the house. Closing the door behind her, she sighed quietly and leaned back against the doorframe, staring down at the neatly polished floor of the foyer. Emily could hear the sound of men laughing somewhere else in the large house, and a flutter of nervousness passed through her. She realized then that she'd miss more of her uncle than his company. With him around, she had someone she knew nearby, someone she could trust. Now she was alone, an ocean away from her home in England, in a house full of strangers.
She heard footsteps approaching and was relieved to see Mrs. Middleton come around the corner. The older woman noticed Emily's agitation and smiled kindly, "Well now, what are you doing in here all alone? You must be exhausted after all your travel today. Come on, I'll show you back to your room. I'm afraid my little tour for you earlier was so hurried, you must have quite forgotten where it is!" Lillian took Emily's hand gently and led her off through the house. The pair cut through one of the richly decorated parlors where three finely uniformed officers were conversing at the far end of the room. Emily failed to notice the man in a green dragoon jacket quickly turn and hide his face behind a book as they entered, listening as Mrs. Middleton pointed out that her baggage had arrived and been taken to her room.
---------------
Ban Tarleton heaved a heavy sigh of relief as the pair disappeared through a far doorway and tossed the book onto a nearby table. Bordon looked up from his drink, confused by Tarleton's odd behavior and the even stranger grin that had formed on the face of William Tavington, who was lounging on a nearby couch with a drink of his own. At the same time he tried to hide his disappointment that Emily hadn't looked in their direction and seen him, as he'd raised his hand in greeting when they entered, but the pair of women breezed through the room so quickly neither noticed.
He set his glass down on the table next to Ban's discarded book and looked at the two Colonels questioningly, "What are you two on about?"
The trio had been raiding Mr. Middleton's bourbon cabinet and planning the patrol the dragoons and Legion infantry would be conducting the next day. Orders for the action had been included in the stack of papers delivered to Colonel Tavington earlier, and while Ban was disappointed at not having much time to rest before going out again, he was certainly eager to escape the possibility of a chance encounter with Emily. Lillian Middleton openly disapproved of her aged husband's drinking, citing it was bad for his already less than perfect health, and had snuck the three officers the key to the cabinet under his nose, hoping they'd clean it out before he noticed.
Tavington stretched and snagged a bottle of liquor from the same table and refilled his glass as he quirked an eyebrow at his fellow dragoon. "Yes, Ban, why don't you clue us in on what it is about our esteemed commander's niece that sends the head of his Majesty's Legion scurrying for cover?" His tone was good-natured, even playful: a distinct change from his usually surliness. Being in Tarleton's company seemed to have that effect on everyone, and apparently not even Tavington was immune. Bordon suspected, however, that the Lord General's recent departure played a far larger role in his commander's newly found good mood. Bordon himself rarely drank but had given into Ban's prodding and accepted a single glass of the fine, rust colored bourbon.
Now it was the two older officers who prodded and Ban who stood silent, pouring his attention on a map spread across the table in front of him. Obviously he wasn't eager to tell the tale. Bordon nudged him with his elbow.
"You know Ms. Durnham?" Now he truly was curious.
Ban tapped the toe of his highly polished boot against one of the table's legs, his face reddening slightly. "Well, knew, yes..."
In his reclined position, Tavington drained his glass and filled it once more, thoroughly enjoying Ban's obvious discomfort. "It seems Colonel Tarleton has a less than positive opinion of our new arrival, though he quite neatly sidestepped telling me why when I questioned him on it earlier. Don't think you'll get away twice, Ban." There was an edge to his voice that made the statement seem threatening, despite his playful manner.
Tarleton sighed and sunk into one of the plush parlor chairs. Since he and Tavington held the same provisional rank, Tavington couldn't order him to disclose anything, but the two had been working together closely since arriving in South Carolina and Ban knew William's disposition quite well. Once his mind was set on something, he was not to be avoided, much less reasoned with. While he wasn't intimidated, he often gave into the older officer when their opinions differed, in the field and off it. Their methods of command were endlessly different, but Tarleton looked up to Tavington in many ways. Few other officers had the guts to stand up to Cornwallis and the other generals like he did, and while Tarleton had no disagreements with the commanders himself, he admired Tavington's willingness to conduct himself and his dragoons as he saw fit- regardless of how others might view his actions.
Ban frowned, "I don't doubt you wont let me out of this room until I do tell it, so fine, I surrender! See, about fifteen years ago..."
"Fifteen years? You would'of bin children!" Tavington slurred a bit, as the bourbon was finally starting to get to him.
Tarleton glared and crossed his arms, "Do you want me to tell it or not? 'Not' suits me just fine."
"Sorry, sorry," Tavington smirked and set down his now empty glass, fixing his full attention on Ban. As full as possible, anyway, for the alcohol was starting to make his mind wander.
"As I was saying, about fifteen years ago my father was running a moderately large import business out of London- you know, bringing in various sorts of rarities- fine furniture from the Continent, china and other bits of glassware, you get the idea. Anyway, Gregory Durnham, the demon's father, had a minor investment in the company and was also a frequent customer, so he and my father had a sort of professional relationship. We used to be invited to their parties, and my father would meet with Mr. Durnham occasionally to discuss matters relating to the business. Not long after this arrangement began, my father decided to haul me along to one of these meetings. I would have been about ten years old at the time."
Ban paused reflectively, "We went by carriage to the Durnham home, grand big thing in the posh section of the city. I'm sure the whole afternoon would have been quite uneventful if not for the fact that a certain little monster was lurking in wait there. While my father and Mr. Durnham met in the study, they left me to 'get acquainted' with Mrs. Durnham and their children in one of the parlors. It all seemed well and good, until she came in... She tore into the room like a pack of wolves, screaming about something or other. I think she must have been about five. Once she set eyes on me, I was done for."
"It may seem hard to believe now," Ban smirked, "But at the time, being as I was only ten, I had an extreme distaste for company of the female sort. Ms. Durnham seemed to catch onto this instinctively, and proceeded to impose herself on me in every way possible. It started with giving me a full tour of their house, much to her mother's amusement, but it hardly stopped there.. oh no.. Before I knew it, the little beast was everywhere I went! She actually insisted to her father that I be brought to all of their meetings, and that's in addition to my required attendance whenever we received an invite to the Durnham's various social gatherings. I was suddenly 'Emily's little friend' and all of my friends mocked me for it! She made my life hell for a year and a half! After that, my father changed businesses and Mr. Durnham found his new commodity(2), well... distasteful... and their dealings came to an end, which freed me from her clutches. I can happily say I hadn't seen her since, until today. Of course, I knew she and Cornwallis were related, but I never thought she'd actually come here!" Tarleton's look was one of pure distress.
Bordon and Tavington stared blankly at Ban in silence for a few moments, and before simultaneously bursting into raving fits of laughter. Tavington, in his tipsy state, managed to laugh himself right off the couch and onto the floor where he landed with a thud.
Ban looked down at him disapprovingly, his expression both hurt and reproachful. "Alright, alright! Now that you two've had your little laugh at my expense, can we finish our planning for tomorrow?"
Bordon patted Tarleton's shoulder apologetically and tried to suppress his grin, "Sorry, Ban, but you must admit it is quite funny. Are you really taking a little childhood grudge so seriously? I'm sure you have nothing to worry about her now... if there's a 'pack of wolves' in this house now, it's US!"
Tavington collected himself off the floor, his own smile quickly dissolving. "Indeed... Let's finish preparing our hunt, shall we?"
---------------------------------
Notes: 1) The real O'Hara was commandant of the British Africa Corp in Senegal for about 10 years before taking part in this war. While I haven't found any actual reference to suggest his acquiring an accent, he did speak the native language and I figure ten years of that might have tinged his already Irish accent.
2) Tarleton's father was in the slave trade. I don't know if he had any business before that, so my mention of him running an import company is purely fictional.