Chapter Seven
Disclaimer: I don't own T.P.
It was abut 6:30 a.m. when Patricia felt a tap on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to see Tavington and O'Hara standing there.
"Colonel Tavington will escort you down to Lord Cornwallis' room," O'Hara said.
Patricia yawned. "What time is it?" she asked, drowsily.
"6:48 a.m. I can give you two minutes to get dressed."
Patricia nodded and shooed them out.
Tavington frowned. "My god, O'Hara, can't you take her? You know how I...don't get along with people like that. Do you think it really wise to trust me with someone who shot one of my men?" he asked, quite angry.
O'Hara glared. "Honestly, man, you justkilled her husband! Have some pity, if you can! Can you blame her for being the way she is?"
"For attacking an officer, I can think of many ways."
Before O'Hara could answer, Patricia opened the door, dressed. O'Hara smiled obnoxiously at Tavington and left. "Come on," Tavington ordered, quietly. Patricia followed, silent.
As she walked, she studied him. He was tall, about 6'1, with brown hair neatly pulled back in a wrapped braid. He was in his late thirties, but his eyes were still...young. They alone were untouched by the changes made unto his face by battles long past. He had a painful-looking scar, below his left ear.
She watched him, until he noticed she was staring.
"If there is anything wrong," he started, "Be sure to tell Lord Cornwallis about it." This was his polite way of telling her to 'stand straight, shut up, and leave me alone.'
"I just want to know the face of my husband's murderer, so when he is alone, I can kill him."
Tavington laughed. "You stupid wench. Maybe it would do you good to have a lesson in watching your actions," he said, looking straight ahead.
"And this comes from the man who...is known as the Butcher?"
To this, Tavington prickled.
Suddenly, he pinned her against the wall of the hallway, standing above her. He glared down, Patricia being ready for anything.
"You know..."he said, menacingly, "The time can come along when anything can happen. So.." he stared at her, "Just be ready...when the days comes, and you find a bullet through your chest faster then you can say 'Mercy.'"
Patricia looked up at him, pressed flat on the wall. After a minute, she grinned, cocked her head and said, "Going to kill me?"
Tavington stared at her, saying nothing. Finally, he pulled away. Instantly, he was back into his gentleman state, marching along like it was no one's business, his hands behind his back in an intelligent manner. He looked like a man of great status and authority. And, indeed, he was.
They walked on for a bit, and finally reached the room. With a loud knock to the door, and a "Come in," they entered.
"Sit down, both of you," Cornwallis said. Tavington grew distraught.
"My lord, I was only told to drop her off," he said.
"Well, Colonel, now you are being told to sit down, and if you don't, then I'll drop you down a rank and send you through the basics of war again!" Cornwallis yelled.
Tavington, with his better judgement, sat down. He was not to argue with the man who payed him, if you could call it pay.
"Now, you both probably do not know why you are here, and I'll tell you," Cornwallis let a silence build up. "Patricia Kellings, is that your name?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, we are giving you the option of working as a servant in the homes in the fort. It is up to you."
Patricia did not like that idea. "Are there any other options?"
Cornwallis looked upset that Patricia did not regard his offer. "Well, the one other option is the death sentence...carried out wonderfully by our own Colonel Tavington,' he said, and laughed at his own joke. Tavington managed a small smile.
Patricia looked at the colonel, and hated him. She knew he wanted her to act the patriot and say, 'No! I'd rather go down then serve you Redcoats!', but just to spite him without being maimed, she let a, "I'll choose the first," slip from her lips.
Cornwallis clapped his hands. "Excellent, excellent," he said, and turned to Tavington.
"And you, colonel. As a fitting punishment for killing and attacking some of our fellow countrymen"
Tavington stood up, bristling. "My lord, I think that is enough."
There was a deadly silence in the room.
Cornwallis stared in shocked-amazement at this daring remark. "Excuse me?" he asked, his voice soft.
Tavington took a breath. "Might I need remind you, sir, whom it was that gave me the order to raid the village and attack Eric Kellings?"
There was another awkward silence, and Patricia stood up. "What?" she asked, shocked.
Tavington sat, letting his words take effect in the quiet room. He had said, maybe, too much.
"Colonel, you dare to take that tone with me?" asked Cornwallis, flustered. Tavington respectfully bowed his head. "Forgive my outburst, my lord. It was very rude."
"Very rude indeed! I should have you dismissed for that!"
Tavington looked at him. "I beg you to reconsider."
"Wait, it really wasn't Tavington who shot Eric!" Patricia asked, confused. She was still standing up. Both men looked at her.
"Dearest Patricia, I ask that you sit down and we can talk this out," Cornwallis said, feeling rather overwhelmed. These two damned folk were bound to start a riot!
"I won't sit until I know what happened," Patty said, simply. There was another deadly silence, and she felt Tavington's eyes on her.
Cornwallis made himself comfortable in his chair.
As he spoke, the words hit her worse then Tavington's bullets.
"First, let me tell you, Patricia, your husband was not being loyal to you."
Patricia said nothing.
"After we found this, we searched his home. We found a large debt he owed some British taverns that he never payed. We also found..." Cornwallis trailed off.
Maybe he had been waiting for her to ask, "What?", but she didn't, so he continued.
"A plan to kill you and three other women that he was disloyal to," he said.
Patricia stared. "A reason for murder?" she asked, still not seeing their point on the subject.
Cornwallis leaned back."A reason not to murder!" he countered.
Patricia stood up. She was quiet for a minute, before saying, "I think I've heard enough. Thank you for your time, Lord Cornwallis."
As she walked out the door, she heard Tavington say, "And that's all she wrote."
