Charlotte was moved to a weird village by a river. Or was it the ocean? She had no clue about where they were. She was able to locate herself easily when she was riding at her father's country house, but she knew the surroundings. Here, she had only been to a couple of places, in a carriage. The village was mostly lived in by slaves, or were they free wokers? She was only there with Benjamin Martin and his son, Gabriel. She was resigned to listen to them now, too scared of what might happen if she didn't.
Martin heard Tavington was destroying every house along the Sante. He had to hide Charlotte somewhere and this village was the perfect spot. He wanted to give days off for his men time to grief, some lost their families and their home.
There were a bunch of children in this village and Charlotte understood they were Benjamin's children since they run toward them at their arrival. He presented them rapidly for Charlotte to know, and introduced her as Lady Charlotte. She couldn't help but think of how her father introduced her at her first dinner. She suddenly felt lonely and sad. The smallest boy came closer to her.
"Lady Charlotte, can I ask you something?" the young boy said.
"Of course," she answered as she bent down.
He put his hand to her ear and whispered "Are you a princess?" She smiled sincerely. The boy took her hand and guided her through the houses. Ben let her wander around; she had nowhere to run.
The next day, as Martin's daughter Margaret was braiding Charlotte's hair, they saw a carriage arrived in the village. Later this afternoon, she attended Gabriel's wedding to the woman who came earlier that day. She watched them exchanged their vows with a lump in her throat, thinking about her own wedding day, almost 3 years ago now.
After the ceremony, she wasn't feeling like celebrating, so she sat on the beach, a glass of wine in her hand. Benjamin sat next to her.
"Lady Charlotte, may I sit with you?"
She gestured with her hand, showing the empty place next to her
"Seeing you with your family makes me miss mine," she said as she looked at the sea.
"Tell me how you can be married to such a monster."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You know that Colonel Tavington is nicknamed The Butcher, right?"
No. She didn't know. She knew her husband could have a temper. But he was a good officer. He never lost a battle; it was an accomplishment he was quite proud of. Her father would not thrust him as much if he had this bloody reputation.
"My dear, let me tell you the day I met him," Martin said softly.
She swallowed hard as he proceeded to tell her how his husband burnt his farm, killed his son. She didn't know if he was telling the truth or if he was trying to mess with her. After he was done talking, they sat there in silence. She took a sip of wine. She looked at the horizon, still hoping William was coming for her. But she couldn't help to believe part of this story was true.