Charly hummed softly as she held up the beautiful gown against her and watched her reflection in the full-length mirror in front of her. The dress was satin and lace. A low neckline (maybe a bit 'too' low for her modesty!) and short puffed sleeves. The dress was a general color of powder blue and the lace was white. There was also a set of long gloves that went to her elbows that were the same pale blue with tiny pearls from the wrist to about halfway up.

There was to be a ball in a week and a half. It seemed Cornwallis needed to make himself feel 'important' again and thus had invited all of the military officers and brass he knew and their wives. The generals were all expected to attend and the invitations were extended to the majors and colonels and captains at the fort as well. That was two months ago.

Nothing of a surprise when Tavington hadn't "really" been invited - or let's say, not 'expected' to attend. But when he advised Cornwallis he would in fact be there. And bring someone with him. The rumors and innuendos flew as to which horse was the lucky date but he didn't hear any of it. He knew he'd have the most wonderful lady there so he merely smirked when he heard the jokes and went on with duties until then.

One duty had been to get the gown for Charlotte. He'd known that some of the women attending the ball had connections in New York and were getting their own dresses from makers there so he contacted one or two and finding someone reliable, he commissioned - listen to him! Everything was not the war, Colonel! He "paid" for the dress and waited until it arrived 3 weeks later. Getting the girl's size wasn't an issue. He had a good eye for things of that sort and had told the maker what (he hoped) she liked. When the gown arrived, Charly - AHEM! Charlotte was thrilled. She wouldn't stop going on about it and the fine silk and the gorgeous pearls. The gloves. The petticoats that would have to be underneath it all... She had everything...

"To be a princess." She said softly as she looked at the gown up against herself for the 100th time in the last 2 weeks. The time was drawing near for the ball. They'd known about it for so long and at first he'd "expected" she attend with him. Then a week ago he'd asked if she wouldn't mind. Charly spun around once more just imagining what it was going to be like. Being not very rich she'd never had a gown like this and never attended such a ball. She'd seen preparations going on for the last few days and was starting to get a bit nervous, but being on William's arm she knew nothing in the world would hurt her.

Ten days. They had ten days.

She was so busy watching the reflection in the mirror that she didn't hear the Colonel in the doorway and a smile as he watched her as well. "Some things just can't be any more perfect," he said that soft baritone washing over the quiet of the room.

Charly jumped a bit but then a shift of blue eyes in the mirror to catch him and a shy little smile. "And how long have you been standing there, sir?"

A shrug and he straightened up and walked in slowly, over to behind her to catch her fully as if she had the dress on as well. "Only for a minute or two, how are you doing, love?"

Charly brought her glance back to the dress, her, and the Colonel all in the mirror. "I'm doing fine. Nervous...I guess, though."

He chuckled softly and shook his head just a bit, leaning down to kiss the back of her neck and a soft mumble. "You will be...the finest woman there. And damned be to the very ninth level of Hell who says different."

Charly trembled feeling the kiss and his breath and leaned back against him just a bit. Her support, remember? And the smallest of smiles which was to vanish only a moment later, when she asked, "William, how do they...dance...in England?"

A blink at the question. "How do we..." he left off."Well just as you dance here in the Colonies, I'd assume, hm?" And with a want to continue the talking later, he went back to nuzzling at the wisps of hair she that had fallen when she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail earlier that morning.

Charly watched them both in the mirror and chewed at her bottom lip. "I'm serious. What if I make a fool of you?"

A soft sigh and a gentle chuckle as he shook his head and turned his gaze to look at her in the mirror. Their eyes locked and one hand slipped around her waist pulling her close against him. "There is no way in Heaven or on Earth you could ever embarrass me, sweetheart. Now relax." And this was true. Tavington had stayed away from the 'affairs' of Cornwallis as long as he could. He didn't care for the drunken ladies and the general idiocy of the whole thing. But here...here he had a reason to show them all up. Here...he would prove to be the better man. And here...he would make the announcement of engagement.

She studied his eyes for a long moment. She was still nervous. And he could tell.

"Charlotte, I have something for you." he said softly with a half-smile. And with his other hand which he had been holding behind his back, he brought out a small plain paper wrapped package and held it up in front of her. Charly's eyes brightened and so did her smile as she took the gift with one hand, refusing to let the dress go and reluctantly doing so when he finally took it from her and laid it across the foot of the bed.

"May I open it now?" she asked, moving along and following him, her eyes still on the present.

"Of course you may." was his answer and he sat down on the bench at the foot of the bed as well. Charly sat beside him and with all the aplomb of a kid at Christmas, she tore off the paper and found herself looking at a small metal box. Delicately carved, with a glass inset on the lid. The filigree over the glass was molded in the shape of a firefly. Head, body and wings. All very general but all Charly knew. She lifted the lid and found the inside a rich deep green velvet. She felt her eyes welling with tears and looked up at him. "It's a beautiful jewelry box. Thank you," she said quietly and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

"Ah, but wait! The old Colonel has a few surprises still in him," he said with a smile as he closed the box in her hand and turned it over to turn the key on the bottom and then a quiet, "Go on. Try it again."

She opened it once more and the softest strains of a gentle waltz floated through the room. Charly had to seriously fight the onslaught of tears. She finally "Ahem"med and gently set the small box down and stood up, taking his one hand in two of hers and tugging. "Come with me! Up on your feet, Colonel!"

A confused look but not able to deny her anything, he stood. "What's wrong, Charlotte?"

She shook her head and rested one hand on his shoulder and turned the grip on his other hand to lay her hand in it. "You, Colonel Tavington, shall teach me to dance like they do in England. So I will in no way be a hindrance to you in 2 weeks at this...silly ball." And she began stepping slowly with the music.

Tavington had to chuckle at her and shook his head as he took the lead and began to float with her across the floor. The music. The night. It was all going to be so special. He'd give his life if only he could make her half as happy as he was at this moment.

Around the room they moved, slowly and gently. Humming softly along with the music box. He watched her for the longest time and then when a look crossed her face, he said softly, "Charlotte, what's wrong, darling? You seem perplexed? You're doing everything right."

She had been staring at the second button on his coat. The red coat he wore as his uniform. He'd come from a meeting with Cornwallis when he'd caught her looking in the mirror and hadn't even taken time to shed the coat. She sighed softly and looked up at him, their gazes meeting. "Will...why don't you ever call me 'Charly'? That's what my family all called me. It's what my friends all used. Yet you use the proper."

He smiled and his hand on her waist pulled her just a bit closer. Still leaving a good foot between them as propriety demanded, but to let her know he understood, fingers would dig into her for a moment of recognition.

"Because." He said simply.

Normally she wouldn't have taken that answer if God himself had said it. But from him? She was willing to accept and agree to it.

He was waiting for the comeback and when he didn't get it, he went on. "You are a lady. Not some child or better yet not a boy. Whereas others in your familial circle may have used it as a 'nickname' or term of endearment...I find that when I'm with an angel God has created that is more beautiful than even the sunsets he offers every night, I have no logical reason in my being to call her anything else than what she had been bestowed with on her birth. Others may call you what they wish, Charlotte. But if you wouldn't mind I would prefer to remain calling you what your name truly says. You are strong...and most fierce. Intelligent and loyal. These are attributes that you need to survive in times like this." And then a "stern" look down at her in a 'warning" way. "And I'd expect you to act as such, milady, during this affair."

She snorted softly and tilted her head up in that truly classic 'Let them eat cake" pose and he back stiffened. "I shall, my Colonel. And let no one attending say a word against the most fearsome and bravest protector there. Or else they shall have to deal with me!"

They laughed and relaxed and finally when he mumbled softly, "Dancing lesson is over," he pulled her close against him and wrapped his arms around her but they kept moving as the gentle strains of the music box faded out. He rested his chin on the top of her head and stared out the open door to the balcony. Thinking.

"Charlotte...?" He asked in almost a whisper.

When he pulled her closer, she slipped her arms around his waist and melted against him. They were meant to be together. They just...fit! And her eyes had closed as she listened to his steady heartbeat. "Yes?"

"I --" but he didn't get it out. There was a thudding on the door which scared them both and he jumped, but tightened his hold on her instinctively. A soft growl and a kiss to the top of her head before he let her go and moved across the room. Captain Wilkins stood there, harried and an apologetic look offered to Charlotte before his gaze turned to Tavington.

"There'd better be a good explanation, Captain." The Colonel snarled.

"Colonel! The militia has trapped 10 officers and General Cornwallis has told me to fetch you as the leader is demanding that you come yourself to treaty and return them."

Tavington frowned. "Why me? What makes this so important that I --"

"It's the Ghost, Colonel. And he wants you."

Tavington looked over his shoulder at the girl and a heavy sigh. "All right. Get my horse." There was no time for good byes. But Charly -- Charlotte knew. She offered a small smile and moved to the bench at the end of the bed.

She'd wait for him.