Thanks, once again, to those of you who reviewed. Someone on their profile page mentioned that reviews are like drugs...crack, I think this person said. I've never done drugs...don't intend to, but I can say this...the reviews I've gotten so far have been as good as eating chocolate. :-) Yum!
Legalities and all that stuff...I don't own Patriot or any of its characters. Laura and Shadow are my creations.
Chapter 7
"Miss Hanson, be reasonable!" Wilkins and Borden ran after me, catching up just as I reached the tent. I ignored the two captains, and pulled aside the flap to enter. And as I did so, it seemed I collided with a brick wall. But the wall suddenly grew arms that went about my waist, steadying me. I looked up and found the wall also had eyes, and they were none-too-happy to see me.
"I thought I told you two incompetent fools I didn't want to see this woman in front of me," Tavington barked, without taking his gaze off of me.
"She has a mind of her own, sir," Borden mumbled.
Tavington let his arms fall back to his sides, and I stepped away from him. I opened my mouth to retort, to tell him all the angry things I wanted to say, but I suddenly lost my nerve. Those eyes...they seemed to hypnotize me.
"I just came to get my personal belongings." I raised my chin, hoping to match his arrogance.
"Very well." He stepped aside and waved toward the cot where my clotheslay. "Just be brief." I rushed past him, and gathered my things, feeling his gaze on me the whole time. And in the time it took me to pick up my clothes, my courage returned. I whirled around, clutching my jeans and flannel shirt to my chest.
"You have got to be the most despicable, hateful, and deceitful human being I've ever had the displeasure to meet. How could you have acted so kind when all the while you were still planning to kill me? I trusted you, and–" Even as the words spewed from my mouth, I realized my anger was not truly geared toward him, but toward myself for believing him.
"You trusted me?" He smirked, taking a step in my direction. "Maybe you should spend a little time looking in the mirror. First you tell me some cockamamy story about being from the future. Then you concoct another, more ridiculous drama hoping to play on my sympathies. I believe lying would be considered the ultimate in deception, don't you agree?"
"I realize how impossible my original story sounds. I find it hard to believe myself." I shrugged, feeling every drop of anger drain from me. "Yet here I am, and I have no other explanation for my presence here. And if it's hard for me to believe, then I know it's even harder for you. That's why I invented the other story. I'm sorry for lying, but you wouldn't believe the truth." There was no use talking to him. I'd said what I wanted, although it didn't make me feel any better. In fact, now I felt worse. Not for having blasted at him. He deserved that and worse. But for one who prided herself in being sensible, I had been so terribly naive.
I strode for the tent exit, but Tavington stepped in my way. "Don't think this is over, Miss Hanson. I will find out who you are, no matter what that fool, O'Hara and the Lord General think or say."
I shook my head. "You won't. I've told you who I am, and it's the truth. But I have no way of proving it." At least not yet.
He paused, studying me for a moment. "Who is the Ghost? Don't deny you're with him. I can sense the same kind of rebellion in you." Tavington flashed me the Judas smile and softened his voice. "Maybe if you tell me who he is and where I can find him, we can make some sort of arrangement and let you go free."
"The Ghost?" I frowned. Why did that nickname sound familiar? But his condescension rekindled a little of my anger, pushing the annoying thought to the side. "I don't believe in ghosts, Colonel, and I'm surprised a man like you would."
He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. "He's not a real ghost, of course. He's a man. Just a man. But as elusive as a ghost." His hand rolled into a fist and his jaw clenched.
"The Ghost. Ok, well, if I see him, I'll be sure to let you know." I gave a short laugh and turned away, humming Yankee Doodle as I stepped outside.
Borden was no where to be seen, but Wilkins, who'd been standing like a sentry guarding the king's gold jumped to my side.
"You are one crazy lady, Miss Hanson. You took him by surprise. That's the only explanation. Otherwise he might have shot you on the spot."
"Captain Wilkins, I'm afraid your colonel is all bark and no bite."
Wilkins snorted. "You say that because you don't know him." He took my arm and stopped me. "I am serious. If you value your life, you will stop playing these games with Tavington. He's not a man to trifle with. You don't know what he's capable of."
I rubbed my neck where the noose had been just a few minutes earlier. "I have an idea."
Once breakfast was over, Colonel Tavington, Captain Wilkins, and two other dragoons set out to take me to Fort Carolina to meet the famous General Cornwallis. I admit, the thought of meeting a great man from the past was exciting. I wished I was going to meet George Washington, or Ben Franklin, but I suppose that was asking too much. I also realized I had been given a gift...an opportunity like no other. It would be rather disappointing if I awoke to discover all of this was just a dream, or the result of a knock on the head. Whatever future the past held for me, I looked forward to it with a new, mounting excitement.
We rode for several hours before we arrived at the fort. Although I rode well, and I had spent hours in the saddle at various times in my past, it was not an every day thing. My legs were sore and tired when it came time to dismount.
For decency's sake, I had slipped my jeans back on, under the dress Colonel Tavington insisted I wear. There was no way I was going to give in to demands to ride side saddle, and although showing a little leg was no big deal for me, I knew it was for those of the eighteenth century. What a sight I must have been! Feminine dress...blue jeans they thought was men's clothing, and my black riding boots. But at least, I thought, my appearance added to the distinction I had of being no ordinary woman.
Colonel Tavington dismounted and waited, making every effort to show his impatience, while I,too,dismounted and stretched the kinks out of my back and legs. And the more he snarled and stamped his feet, the more time I took. Finally I looked up at him, smiling sweetly.
"Shall we go and get this over with?"
He narrowed his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. I figured it was better I didn't hear it anyway, since it probably wasn't very nice. As we walked into the building, I wondered what I could tell the men who were going to question me. The truth, of course, but how much of it?
We entered a large, sparsely furnished room. I saw the man I knew to be General O'Hara standing behind a seated, white-wigged man in a fancy red coat.
"Miss Hanson, I'm glad to see you arrived safely." O'Hara gave a small smile and a very short bow, then turned his glaring gaze to Tavington.
"Thank you, General," I said, and fixed my gaze to Cornwallis. I had read about this man in history class. Had gloated at his defeat, then as I matured, felt sorry for him for the blow to his ego it must have been. And now, by some freak of science, or a miracle, or whatever, I stood before him.
"Miss Hanson, I have been looking over your case, what information I have been given, and I am a little perplexed." The lord general was not one to beat around the bush! Straight to business. But I liked that about him. I was anxious to get this over with.
"Sir, I don't know what kind of proof you need, but I am not a spy. I did not steal my horse, and I was not running away from anything. When Colonel Tavington and his men came upon me, and rescued me from my run-away horse, I had just taken the animal out for a ride. He belongs to my uncle. My only error in all of this was in disobeying my uncle, for he told me the horse was too wild for me. I didn't believe him, and wanted to prove myself, so I took the horse out on my own. That is the truth."
General Cornwallis made a few notes on a piece of paper, then looked up at me.
"You say that Colonel Tavington rescued you?"
"Yes. I lost control of the horse. He jumped over a fence, and in the process I dropped the reigns. Colonel Tavington," I nodded in the colonel's direction, but avoided eye contact with him, "raced ahead along with Captain Borden. The colonel pulled me from the horse, to safety, and Captain Borden then managed to catch the reigns and bring the horse to a halt."
A deep furrow creased Cornwallis' forehead. "So he saved your life only to try to take it from you the following day?"
I shrugged. "He thought I was a spy." I wanted to kick myself, hard. It sounded almost as if I was defending the brute. Not that I'd had any intention of doing so. The words popped out of my mouth before I could catch them. Once again I could feel his gaze boring into me. He was probably as surprised as I was.
Cornwallis turned to Tavington. "What were your reasons for believing this young woman was a spy, Colonel?"
Tavington straightened his shoulders, cleared his throat, then began. "Sir, she didn't exactly lose control of the horse until after the jump over the fence. No beginner or infrequent rider would have been able to remain mounted under such circumstances. She has obviously been trained. The horse only took advantage once she dropped the reigns. And sir, if you see the horse, it is a fine animal. Not the kind of beast a poor farmer's niece would be riding about for fun."
"So you naturally assumed, because of her skill as a rider, that the horse did belong to her, and therefore that she was a rebel spy."
"That is correct, sir." Tavington cleared his throat again.
"All circumstantial, don't you agree, Colonel? What proof do you have?"
"None. And that is what I was trying to acquire. I was not truly going to hang Miss Hanson, but I hoped to gain a confession of some sort, then leave the hanging to you." He paused a split second, then looked the general straight in the eyes. "She has lived in the area for eleven years, sir. She would know the Ghost or his whereabouts. I'm sure she has some kind of information we could use to capture this–" He glanced at me, cutting off the expletive he obviously wished to use. So there was some remnant of a gentleman in there...somewhere. Or maybe it was just a show for the lord general.
"I see your point, Colonel." General Cornwallis studied me, nodding slowly. "Miss Hanson, where do your sympathies lie in this...conflict?"
Oh boy. What did I answer?
"I-I, um, well–"
"It is a simple question. Are you loyal to the king, or are you not?" A note of impatience tinged the general's voice.
I swallowed hard and looked about. I didn't expect support from anyone in the room, certainly not Tavington. But as I tried to think, our gazes met. For the briefest moment–so brief I might have only dreamed it–I thought I saw sympathy. Maybe even a touch of remorse. That look, whether imagined or real, gave me strength to speak.
"General Cornwallis, I respect the English presence in the colonies. I believe there was a time when amends could have been made. But too much has happened now, to turn back. Errors were made on both sides, in my humble opinion. Americans will have their independence, and there is nothing you and your soldiers, your king or your parliament can do about it. It is inevitable."
A loud drumming in my ears was the only sound in the room. And I was sure only I heard the drumming, for it was the sound of my heart pounding wildly against my rib cage. So now what would they do with me? As if with a will of its own, my mouth opened again.
"England and America will become friends again, though. It will take a little while, but we'll all be on the same side eventually." I wanted to bite my words back. How stupid was that? I knew it to be the truth, but from their perspective, how in the world could I have known that? "A-at least, that's what I feel in the depths of my heart. We will always owe our heritage, our roots to the English. We may some day be free to govern ourselves, but we will never be free of the influence of England."
So shut up already, I told myself. This was only making matters worse.
"I was sorely mistaken, General." Tavington broke the second, intense silence, causing me to jump. "This woman is simply insane. She could never be a spy." He gave a short laugh. "And even if she is sane, what could a woman possibly know about politics? You heard her. What a silly speech."
"There is no need to offend the young lady, Colonel," Cornwallis snapped. "But I do believe you are correct." He continued to stare at me, a look that contradicted his last words. He saw something in me, or in my words, that he believed to be true. I wished I could see into his head and read his thoughts. "Do you remove the charge, Colonel?"
Tavington opened his mouth then snapped it shut without speaking.
"I see." Cornwallis sat back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So there isn't really much we can do. But it wouldn't be wise to just let her go free. What do you suggest, Colonel? What do we do with Miss Hanson?"
Tavington stared at me a moment, then looked back to his superior. I was struck with another thought. If they set me free, where would I go? My home didn't exist yet.
"I know it is unconventional, but I would like to keep her with us for a few days."
I nearly choked at the colonel's words.
"If she does belong to the Ghost and his band of rabble, they will want her back. It might be a way to draw them out."
"Then I put her in your charge, Colonel. But you will treat her with respect and dignity. She is a woman, a weaker vessel, and at this point, still a subject of our king."
"Yes, sir." Was that a note of satisfaction in the Butcher's voice? Exactly what was his scheme? I suspected it was more than drawing this Ghost out. He had no proof I even knew the Ghost. My heart began to race anew.