Chapter Fourteen


Disclaimer: I do not own T.P.


A/N: Looks pretty good for Tavington and Patty now, doesn't it! Keep reviewing!


Patricia wanted to kick herself. Why did she have to tell Cornwallis? What were they hiding from her?

She needed to know.

After all this, she still loved him.

She decided to ask someone who she knew would hold the answers, and she had one on her list: O'Hara.

She found him training the calvary.

"Step to it, men! If you plan on serving under the Colonel, you'd better get this down flat!" he yelled. He laughed to himself, but stopped when he saw Patricia. He tipped his hat to her.

"May I help you, Mrs. Kellings?" he asked. Patricia smiled. "Yes, actually, there is something," she said respectfully. O'Hara raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he asked.

"What can you tell me about Colonel Tavington?"

O'Hara paused, straight faced. A cool wind blew. He looked stern when he was thinking. "Well," he said, "Gossip has it he has a big affair to attend to on the 17th of April, possibly being lifted to a higher rank. But aside from that, I could probably tell you anything."

"How old is he?"

"36."

"Do you happen to know if he shares affections with anyone?"

O'Hara opened his mouth to answer when Tavington rode up behind him.

"Ah, good day, Colonel!" O'Hara said, smiling. Tavington nodded, his horse shifting under him. Patricia felt small, with the two men sitting on horseback talking above her.

She saw Tavington glance down at her, angry and cold.

"Training the recruits?" he asked O'Hara, averting his eyes.

O'Hara laughed. "Recruits, sir? You can't call them recruits. They are farmers and gamblers. Goodness, they don't belong here!" he said, insultingly. "It's funny how set they are for being commanded under you."

Tavington stood, a smirk creasing his face, with the slightest hint of a pleasured smile. "These are the men who want to be Dragoons..."

"You there! Soldier!" he cried, addressing a recruit.

"Yes, sir?" the man asked.

"Do you wish to serve under me?"

"Yes, Colonel! I would like nothing better!"

Patricia found that amusing.

Tavington turned to O'Hara. "Tell me, O'Hara, what've you installed into them that makes them say that?" he asked. He chuckled. "They don't know I'm the most hated man in this war, do they?"

O'Hara shook his head. "That was the one fact His Majesty had left out," he said, "And you know these men, they don't know the difference between 'Best Colonel' and, 'Most Talked About Colonel,' whether it's good or bad."

There was a silence, before Tavington looked down at Patricia and asked, "Shouldn't you be running along now?"

She made herself scarce.

O'Hara leaned over his horse to whisper, "Colonel, she asked me some things about you."

Tavington jumped into controlled anger. "What!"

"She asked of me your age," O'Hara continued, "And that of any possible relations you might've had."

With a quick motion, Tavington whipped out his sabre and charged down the hill.

Patricia heard the gallop and spun around to see Big Ben speeding towards her. She heard the faint cries of O'Hara yelling at Tavington from atop the hill, and she ducked as she felt a sword whip over her head. She felt the rush of wind as the horse ran past. She watched as Tavington turned Ben around, and pulled up to a stop next to her.

She froze, and watched as the colonel seethed. He got off and squatted down next to her, his sword in hand.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She didn't say anything. She looked up the hill to see O'Hara running down. Maybe she could stall out until he came.

Tavington stared at her.

"You..." he said, through gritted teeth, "...I regret the day you were brought here...And, do you want to know something else...?" He leaned closer.

"My lord Cornwallis may have told me to... kill your husband...," he paused between words, "But it was I who found it rather... enjoyable."

Patricia stared, scared he might take a hack with the evil blade.

"You horrible creature," she whispered.

At that moment, O'Hara reached the bottom of the hill. "Don't you dare touch her, colonel!" he yelled. Tavington stood up and sheathed the weapon.

"Where are you going!" O'Hara yelled. Taking Patricia by the hand and helping her up, they both watched Tavington storm off.

"Something has to be done about that man," O'Hara said, brushing Patricia off. She shook her head.

"Something needs to be done about me."