Love and War

Chapter V - Losing The Battle


C'mon guys, I know how many of you are really reading the story; I do have a hit counter. I know, I know, reviews aren't everything, but they help us authors and get us motivated to write. Please, save an author. Write a review.


Tavington was thrown off guard by her answer. No family would leave their daughter in the Americas alone. Cornwallis narrowed his eyes and sputtered out an answer. "I'm sure your parents would not leave you here, Miss Foster. I assure you, you'll be home by night-."

"No, I won't," Marion said, her voice soft but strong. Her gray eyes became steely as she surveyed Cornwallis, "My stepmother would never miss that boat. Not for the King himself."

Cornwallis couldn't help but nod his head. He had met Elizabeth Whitely Foster more than once; the woman was a nuisance, to say the least. She was a social climber, a mountaineer in her own right. He didn't doubt a thing Marion was saying. "But surely your father wouldn't leave you?" he said steadily, returning her gaze.

That struck a nerve in Marion, and both men knew it. Her hands clenched on the wood armrests, her knuckles turning white. "My father is practically a vegetable, sir. He has no say in what direction his - or my life, for that matter - is going." Her voice ebbed to a whisper and she looked away quickly.

The general blinked a few times and cleared his throat, "Your parents-, your father and stepmother that is." Tavington didn't miss Marion wincing at the mention of Elizabeth. "They are aboard The Cambridge, yes?"

Marion nodded her head. Where was he going with this?

"The Cambridge docks in Boston for a week before beginning the voyage to England. I can have you on a ship to Boston tomorrow morning, Miss Foster, and you'll be able to meet them before they leave for England."

Tavington raised an eyebrow at Marion's reaction. She bit at her lip, squeezing her eyes shut, turning her head to one side. This girl certainly was not who she made herself out to be. Cornwallis, however, did not notice her response as he had glanced down at the parchment on his desk. Marion recovered quickly, looking up with a new resolve behind her eyes.

"But, sir," she said, her words coming quick and firm, "I'm not meant to go to England."

Cornwallis looked up sharply, "I beg your pardon, Miss Foster?" Tavington looked at her shrewdly. How was she going to dig herself out of this?

"I'm to be married before the year's end, sir. Unless I wished to miss the wedding, there is no feasible way I could journey to England." Marion felt herself shiver as she spoke. She had vowed never to married, after seeing the imbeciles her family would force her onto.

Tavington was surprised to feel something inside him deflate and shrivel as she spoke. Then he remembered what an elaborate liar this girl certainly was. He was even more surprised to feel himself inflate again, and he visually puffed out his chest.

"You are to married and yet your only family in the Americas is leaving for England?" Cornwallis said, disbelief etched into his words.

Marion met his eyes, "They weren't sure how long this war was going to last, and with the rumors of the French," she trailed off, sighing heavily for effect. "It pained them to go, but it was something they had to do."

The general couldn't help but nod his head, jaw agape, "I see." Though difficult to follow, her story was in a stretch, believable.

"To whom are you to be married, if I may ask, Miss Foster?" the colonel said wryly, his eyes cold as stone.

Marion shifted her gaze to him, and for a moment it was a battle of wills. "Charles Abbot," she heard herself blurt. True, Charles was planning to purpose to her (as all of Charleston knew) but Marion despised the man and found herself repulsed by his presence. Why she said his name, she still does not know. "I'm to marry Charles Abbot, Colonel."

He only narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her. But the general drew her eyes away. "My congratulations, Miss Foster," he said, sounding as if he was losing interest in this light interrogation.

"Thank you, sir," she said, making to stand, "I'll be sure to remember your kindness, General," she made sure to 'forget' Tavington, "Now, I'd be much obliged for the use of one of your horses?" Marion finished, now standing.

Before Cornwallis could answer, Tavington broke in. "A horse? For what, Miss Foster?"

Marion blinked. She was almost home free. "For the journey to the Abbots' plantation, Colonel. Surely you do not expect me to walk, sir," she said with a slight laugh and a shallow smile.

"Nonsense, Miss Foster," Tavington shot back. He was not about to let her out of his sight; she was hiding something. Why else would she try so desperately to escape them? "It is highly improper to be living under the same roof as your betrothed!" He allowed himself a devilish smirk as he watched Marion's face seem to crumple.

"Quite right, Colonel," Cornwallis chirped, standing as well. "You must stay here, Miss Foster. I assure you, you will never have to see the common soldier, and the accommodations will be up to your expectations." Cornwallis gave her a genuine smile, thinking that he was doing the best thing he could for the young woman. "Tomorrow Colonel Tavington will escort you to your plantation and you may bring whatever you need here."

At this, Tavington nearly blushed and he began to sputter, "But, sir, the Dragoons and I-."

"Peace, Colonel," Cornwallis warned. "You will escort the young lady."

Tavington could only surrender to the general's will. "Yes, my lord," he sighed. Marion turned, obviously in a huff, and left the room, her footsteps echoing down the hall.

She had lost the battle. But she refused to lose the war.

Cornwallis waited until her footsteps died away. "I don't fully trust her, Colonel," he muttered, glancing at Tavington. "Something about her, just- just doesn't sit well with me."

Tavington almost smirked. It was the most intelligent thing he had ever heard the general hear. "Nor with I."


Marion had resorted to pacing again. She hated pacing. There was a furious flush in her cheeks as she bit at her rough nails. She was so close, so close. Cornwallis was eating out of her hand, but Tavington. "Damn, Tavington," she cursed shaking her head.

She felt a shiver go down her spine as she spoke his name and she credited it to fear of the Butcher. But she pushed the sudden reaction to the back of her mind; she would need to tie up some loose ends if she was to pull this off. She would need to write to Charles, accept the proposal (it wouldn't be as if she would be around to follow through), and keep up appearances until she could escape.

Her mind was racing, trying to think of ways or means of escape. She didn't know how long she could subject herself to this torture before breaking.

Tomorrow, she thought suddenly, At the house. I'll lose Tavington in the house. I can outride him with a good head start. I'll go to Pembroke. The Howards will take me in.

she thought suddenly,

But a knock on her door drove a spike through her thoughts, splintering them like shards of glass. She took a breath, gathering her strength. "Yes?"


REVIEW