They returned to the British camp four days later, tired and in need of a good meal. They had delivered the convoy to the next escort and returned by the same route. The weapons they had found along the way were split, half continuing on with the convoy and the other half returning with Tavington. Lord Cornwallis was so pleased with their find that he gave the forty Dragoons and Infantrymen a day of rest.
Beth's first desire, on return to the camp, was for a wash. With no chance of a tub full of steaming hot water, she had to settle for a bucket of cold water in her tent. Before stripping off she made sure the ties of her tent were securely done up, she didn't want to take any chance of being seen again, by anyone. She stripped bare, dropped a scrap of canvas on the ground and washed herself from head to foot. As the cloth swept across her breast her imagination thought of William's hand in its place. She was about to lower her hand between her legs when she stopped herself. Damn it she thought it's only been four days, I've got to stop thinking about him all the time. Beth finished her makeshift bath and put on a clean uniform before heading for dinner, the first hot meal she'd had in days.
The next day was to be a day of rest for the forty men who'd been on the convoy but as Beth left her tent in the morning she saw Tavington and Borden approaching on horseback. The Colonel shot her a brief glance as he rode by. True to his word he was not giving anything away. The gossip in the camp had ceased as the men had no reason to suspect any action the Colonel was taking. Beth was not even privy to extra information from him, so she could only assume that the two of them were off to meet with Cornwallis.
Beth spent the morning grooming her horse who was also enjoying the calm silence after six days of marching. After lunch, however, she found herself getting bored. She was so used to work of any kind that sitting around with nothing to do was wasteful in her mind. Her life had been filled with farm work and now she led the life of a Dragoon, sloth was not a state of being that she was familiar with. She drifted off to sleep mid afternoon and was woken with a start, a couple of hours later, as horses thundered by.
Oh good he's back, maybe we'll have new orders, she thought as she jumped up from her cot. Beth hadn't even finished straightening her uniform before a young Private was outside her tent with a command from Tavington.
"Lt. Charleton? Colonel Tavington wants you at his tent….now." He was nervous about sounding like he was issuing the command to a superior officer, but the Colonel had told him to impress upon the officers the urgency of his orders. Beth exited her tent and saw the tension in the young man's face.
"What's going on, Private?" She asked.
"Not sure Sir, but he's not in a good mood."
"Thank you Private." Beth said as she walked off in the direction of the Colonel's tent. As she approached his tent she could hear his raised voice, obviously she wasn't going to be the only one here, this time. She swept the flap aside as she entered his tent. Tavington and Borden turned at the sound.
"Reporting as ordered Sir." Beth said with a quick nod of her head.
"Take a seat." He snapped, "We have a…situation." Tavington sneered. It was obvious his meeting with Cornwallis had not gone well. "It seems our tactics have inspired the formation of a new militia. Cornwallis is demanding that we capture them as he feels we are responsible for the…." At that moment Hamilton walked into the tent ahead of another Dragoon. Beth had seen him in the camp before but he'd never traveled with them. "Ah Captain Wilkins, I understand you can help us find these men?" Tavington's tone of voice revealed his lack of trust in this new man.
"I'll do my best Sir." Wilkins nervously answered as four sets of eyes locked on him. Tavington motioned for the two of them to take a seat with the others.
"They are the colonials who are raiding supply shipments using some unconventional tactics. Finally Cornwallis has seen fit to grant me permission to seek out their leader and his rabble, using whatever means I deem necessary." All of them exchanged knowing glances, they knew the brutal tactics the Colonel had used in the past few months. Houses and farms had been burned, horses and slaves were commandeered for the British Army and even a child, a boy no more than 15 years old, had been shot dead. "We will find him, destroy him and the moral of these rebellious colonials." He announced with sheer contempt in his voice.
He informed them that they would continue to escort the convoys in hopes of encountering the Ghost and his men. They were dismissed and told to be ready to ride in the morning.
That night, as the men slept, a dark figure dressed from head to foot in black crept through the camp. He carried no lantern and stayed alert for any movement of the guard. The camp was dark, with little light provided by the moon as the figure stopped outside a tent. His gloved hand reached out and untied the flap of the tent and he moved inside. There was not enough space for the broad shouldered man to stand up straight. He knelt down beside the bed and placed his hand over the mouth of the bed's occupant.
The soldier in the bed started to fight, a hand holding a knife shot up towards the intruder's face. He grabbed the awakened soldier's wrist and slammed it down to the pillow. The determined soldier kept wriggling to get free from the intruder who leaned over the face of the prone soldier.
"Beth, it's me." Tavington whispered in her ear, as his long hair tickled her face. She immediately relaxed and he removed his hand from her mouth.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, scaring me like that?" She whispered hoarsely.
"Now, now, you're the one with the knife." He still hadn't let go of her wrist. She opened her hand and let him take the knife. "I couldn't sleep." He told her as he looked and the weapon before putting on the ground underneath Beth's bed. "I still owe you one."
"One what?" He said nothing. Then she remembered the night in the shed. "Here? Now?" She whispered so quietly, her small tent feeling far too exposed a place for them to make love.
"It's as good as any." He answered as he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips parted and he removed the dark winter cloak he'd worn over his uniform to conceal himself.
"What did you have in mind?"
"I think I'll start…here." He said as his hand reached the buttons of her breeches, undoing them and pushing them off her hips. He kissed the soft warm skin across her hips and belly, moving slowly to the center and descending to the curls of hair between her thighs. Her breeches bunched around her knees not allowing him full access but he managed, his tongue pressing between her lips finding her clitoris. Her breathing grew louder as his tongue circled it, flicked across it, his fingers pushing into her. She ran her fingers through his hair as she pushed herself against his face. She wanted more of him.
"William." She sighed. He lifted his head, his fingers still pumping into her.
"Yes?"
"Oh please….do it now." She knew that with her uniform still on there was only one way he could take her. He removed his fingers and rolled her over, pulling her hips off the cot and resting her knees on the ground. She raised herself up on her elbows and watched as he undid his breeches, releasing his erection. "Oh yes." She sighed in delight as she felt the head of his penis enter her. He pushed in fully and rested there to enjoy the feeling of her surrounding him. She tightened herself around him as he pulled out and was rewarded with the groan she'd so enjoyed hearing from him before. He started a quick, steady rhythm, reaching around with one hand to rub the spot his tongue had been teasing.
The Private on guard duty listened carefully. There, he'd heard it again. A strange creaking sound, like wood being stressed, and it wasn't stopping. He didn't think it could be one of the men turning in his sleep, it would have stopped by now. There were other noises too that he couldn't quite identify but he started moving closer to the source of the noise. With every step it became easier to close in it, now he could tell the creaking was accompanied by…moaning and heavy breathing. He hadn't seen any of the camp followers passing through so he wondered who could be making the noise. He finally closed in on the tent the noise was coming from, the tent of Lt. Frank Charleton. Now he could also hear whispered commands, "Faster….harder." He knew he should just turn away, leave whoever it was to their pleasure but curiosity got the better of him. He stepped closer and slightly opened the flap of the tent.
Inside, with his head thrown back in the height of orgasm, was Colonel William Tavington, on his knees behind Lt. Frank Charleton, who was quietly gasping with his own release. The young Private just about choked. He let go of the canvas flap and ran as fast as he could. In his young life he had never seen anything like it. He knew he couldn't report this to anyone, he was scared of what the Colonel would do to him if he did.
At least I won't have any trouble staying awake now he thought once he had calmed down, I'd probably have nightmares anyway. He tried to shake the image of the two officers engaging in….he didn't want to think of what they were doing let alone tell anyone.
"Did you hear that?" Beth asked her breathing laboured, "it sounded like someone was outside."
"Maybe it's Borden, spying on us." William whispered.
"Don't even make jokes about that." She warned.
"Relax, you're worrying about nothing. I didn't see anyone on my way here." He tried to reassure her as he continued to slowly grind against her as he softened. He pulled out and buttoned his breeches as Beth rolled over, rising to sit on the edge of the bed. William sat on the small stool opposite her and grabbed her right hand. He turned it palm up and stroked his other hand across it.
"Your hands are rough." He commented. "They would never have given you away." His eyes stayed on her hand, avoiding looking into her eyes.
"I've done farm work all my life," she paused, " What's wrong William?"
"That explains those strong arms of yours." He said, avoiding her question.
"William, talk to me." She insisted. He sighed. He knew things were going to get ugly in this conflict now, more intense, more personal. Their chances of survival reduced significantly by the nature of their pursuit of the Ghost. He also knew he had no chance of protecting her from any of it, she wouldn't allow it.
"Do you ever think about what you will do when this war is over?" He finally asked. She sensed it wasn't what was really on his mind.
"Occasionally, I suppose I'll return to my family's farm and continue what my father started. My brother Robert won't be interested in it, he hates horses. What about you?" She asked almost dreading his answer. She didn't want to hear that he would return to England and a wife.
"I hadn't even thought about it until recently and I honestly don't know what I will do…if I even survive." He kept looking at her hand, he wasn't overly comfortable discussing personal matters.
"William, this Ghost, don't even consider sacrificing yourself in order to get him." She insisted, suddenly scared that maybe he secretly harboured a deathwish. "This may be war but he is not worth dying over, besides…." She stopped, not wanting to cross a line she'd imposed on her relationship with him. She wouldn't fall in love….no matter what!
"Besides what?" William was curious, he wondered if she was feeling what he couldn't admit to himself. Beth paused, she didn't want to admit to her mind what her heart was feeling.
"The British can't afford to lose such an experienced officer." She finally spit out, taking a deep breath, a truth but not her first thought. They exchanged looks, both knew that other wasn't telling the whole truth and eyes, being windows to the soul, spoke more than their voices did. William raised his right hand to her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. He moved towards her, dropping off the stool to his knees in front of her and slowly brought his lips to hers. He pressed his lips against hers, slowly moving against her. His tongue swept across her lower lip and her mouth opened to him as she laced her arms around his neck. They stayed that way for several minutes, the slow, sensual kiss saying all they weren't prepared to speak aloud.
They parted and he rose to leave, their unspoken admission changing everything and nothing between them. Just before he left the tent, he turned.
"Don't worry Beth, I have no desire to die." He said and left her alone in the dark.
The next morning Beth sat with Captains Hamilton and Davies in the kitchen tent enjoying a hearty breakfast. Borden had come in and seeing Beth there had taken a tray of food and left. Every time Beth looked up to address Capt Davies, who sat across the table, she noticed a young man staring at her. As she looked at him, he panicked and turned away. The visual cat and mouse game continued throughout the meal.
"Captain Hamilton, who is that Private over there?" Beth asked
"Which one?" Hamilton questioned, scanning the crowded tent.
"The young one, two tables over."
"They're all young Lieutenant, too young. Can you be more specific?"
"The one with the reddish-brown hair that's not yet tied back." Beth said, nodding in his direction.
"Oh him, don't know his name. He was on guard duty last night though, I could find out for you. Why?" Hamilton asked. Beth nearly choked on her food as he said the young man had been on guard duty. Had he been what she'd heard during Tavington's visit to her tent?
"He keeps looking over here, almost jumps out of his skin whenever I look up." Beth answered.
"Would you like me to talk to him?" Hamilton offered.
"No thanks, I'll talk to him myself." Beth rose from the table as she saw the Private leave, "excuse me Sirs, I'll see you at the meeting."
The young man had seen her leave the table and he increased his pace. Beth followed, until they were at the edge of the camp. He was almost running now.
"Halt Private." Beth ordered. He stopped and stood at attention, panic all over his face. "Why are you running? I only want to know what the problem is, why were you staring?" He said nothing but she could see by his eyes he was searching his nervous mind for an answer. His hesitancy worried her, she was convinced he had seen something. "Spit it out Private." She commanded.
"Sir? I….it's nothing Sir." He stammered. He was trying to avoid eye contact with her. Beth stood directly in front of him, he was so young that even she was looking slightly down on him. She raised her eyebrow in doubt and he cracked. "I'm sorry, so sorry…Sir…I didn't mean to see anything….I just couldn't…." The words tumbled from his mouth.
"Didn't mean to see what Private?" She asked. She had a good idea of what he had seen but she needed to hear it from him to be sure.
"I saw…you and…and...him! And he was……behind you. I won't say anything Sir, not a thing." He cried, scared to death of the Colonel's reputation. Beth smiled and the young man shivered. She could use his fear to her advantage.
"See that you don't Private, those who spread gossip are not well liked." She warned. "Dismissed." He didn't move immediately almost as if he hadn't realized that she meant that he was free to go. He turned and walked hurriedly away, looking over his shoulder to see if the Lieutenant following him.
Beth smiled to herself, enjoying the rush of power she felt from frightening the living daylights out of the boy. She set off for Colonel Tavington's tent, time to find out what the new orders were. She wouldn't tell him what the guard had witnessed, the last thing the poor boy needed was the Colonel threatening him.
Autumn brought temperatures colder than Beth had felt since she was a child. The winter cloaks were distributed and not one man was arrogant enough to leave them behind when they left the camp for an extended period of time. The thick, black wool covering was welcome to any man left sleeping outside.
Lord Cornwallis had also ordered the move of the men into winter quarters as a precaution against severe weather. He had seen what a winter was like in America and wasn't assuming that the southern location was a protection against harsh weather. The temperature some nights had already been cold enough that sleeping in tents had become uncomfortable.
Tavington had been allowed room for himself and four of his officers in Cornwallis' own house within the fort. The Colonel had the largest room and Borden was next door. Hamilton and Davies were left sharing a room that looked like it had belonged to a couple of young brothers before the war. Beth was put up in a small room at the end of the hall. A room so small it had probably belonged to a servant of the household but she didn't care about its size. She was just glad to be out of the cold.
Three days after they had settled in they were once again preparing to leave. Another convoy to protect. An extra blanket, gloves and the winter cloaks were packed by each soldier with the hope that, by being prepared, nothing would happen. Once she was packed and ready for the morning, Beth settled into bed for the last good nights sleep she would have until they returned in six days.
Beth woke to the sound of a creaking door, the light from the lantern the visitor was carrying hurt her eyes even though she kept them closed. She never assumed it was Tavington coming to visit her as he did often in the middle of the night. Her left hand slipped under her pillow and around the hilt of the knife she kept there for protection. She listened to the shuffling sound of stocking feet moving across the floor. She heard the sound of the lantern being carefully put on the floor and felt a hand slide up under her shirt, pressing against her belly. Then she heard a voice that turned her blood cold.
"I know you're awake. If you're good enough to be his whore then maybe you can…." Beth sat up fast. She pulled the knife out and had it at Borden's throat before he could finish, her right hand grabbing a handful at his crotch and squeezing. He stifled any scream of protest.
"Tell me Borden do you have a wife back home?" She hissed through grit teeth. He nodded yes. "Do you think she'd notice if something was missing?" She asked, squeezing harder to emphasize her point. He nodded again. Borden was squirming, terrified of more pain should he try to escape her grip. "I know you won't run to the Colonel with my…insubordination. After all he did order you not to treat me differently," she paused, "or do you visit other young officers in the night?" Borden's eyes burned in disgust.
Beth stood, keeping a grip on the knife at his throat and his balls as she pushed him towards the door. "Open it." She ordered. He cautiously reached over, turning the door knob, opening the door as she pushed him through with a final shove to his genitals. "Stay the hell away from me Captain." She warned and slammed the door shut.
Tavington heard the sound and shot from his bed, opened the door and looked up and down the hallway. The door to Borden's room was just closing and at the opposite end of the hall stood a young guard with a dumbstruck look on his face. Tavington motioned for the guard to come to him but the young man stood still, staring down the hall. The Colonel walked up to him and stopped directly in front of him, making the guard jump.
"Private, what is going on here?" He asked
"Sir? It was Captain Borden Sir. He was coming out of Lt. Charleton's room," He paused as Tavington looked down the hall, his mind racing, but before he could form any conclusions the Private continued, "Sir? He looked like he was in pain, a lot of pain, Sir."
"Thank you Private, keep this to yourself," Tavington ordered.
"Yes Sir….goodnight Sir." The Private turned and walked the opposite way down the hall.
Tavington returned to his room. He knew if he went to Beth she wouldn't tell him anything but he had heard enough from the guard to realize that Borden had tried his luck with Beth only to be injured for his efforts. He decided to be patient and see how things looked in the morning.
As they left the next morning, Tavington noticed Beth was in a foul mood and was avoiding being anywhere near Borden. The Captain was taking great care descending the stairs as they left and lowered himself very slowly into the saddle. The Colonel had seen enough to be certain of what had happened the night before. He would let him suffer the pain of riding in the saddle with an injury to his most sensitive flesh and then he would confront him with his suspicions. He didn't want to make a public spectacle of the man, not yet anyway, but he needed to be put in his place.
At the first nights camp a small tent was erected to house a wood stove, a fire to provide warm food and drink to stave off the cold night air. Once a fire was burning, Tavington ordered everyone out, telling them to send in Borden. The Captain sheepishly entered the tent, all day he had felt that the Colonel was watching his every move. His only regret from the evening before had been that he was the one who was attacked and he felt rather ashamed of himself for being bested by a woman. As sore as he was he had tried to ride normally, though the pain between his legs was excruciating while riding. His saddle had felt like it was made of stone.
Tavington had unsheathed his sword and was polishing the long curved blade as Borden entered. Borden inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves, having recently acquired an aversion to blades in the hands of others.
"What were you doing in Charleton's room last night?" Tavington asked calmly, as though this was going to be a normal conversation.
"I knew that bitch would run to you sooner or later." Borden spit. Tavington spun around, the sharp edge of his sword flew up between the Captain's legs, slamming into his balls. Borden gasped, his eyes closed as his face grimaced in pain. He was so sore that it felt as though the blade had cut through the fabric of his breeches and into his testicles inside. He took a deep breath, fighting a wave of nausea and regained his composure enough to open his eyes, only to find Tavington's icy blue eyes staring at him in anger.
"Lt. Charleton has said nothing, I haven't even asked her about it. You were seen in the hall, by the guard, you idiot." Tavington snarled. He took a step closer, the blade pressing even harder against Borden's bruised balls. The Captain fought to maintain control of the pain he was feeling. "Stay away from her, if you dare touch her again," He paused while twisting the blade, he arched his eyebrows and with a false smile said "I'll cut off what she doesn't." He pushed the sword up a final time before dropping it down to his side and walking out of the tent, leaving Borden standing in shock, his hands crossed protectively in front of him.