The couple had move to a house in Charleston. William was attended by doctor several times a week; to make sure he was recovering properly. Weeks after the battle of Cowpens, he was still not allowed to ride, and laying in bed all day was not for him. The first weeks of his convalescence, he had no energy and was sleeping all the time. But now he was better, time was passing by slowly.
The only thing he was glad was to spend all his time with Charlotte. Her belly was expending quite fast. He never saw her body change as much the last time she was with child. She was glowing, handling the house, still taking care of his wound. She was going to be such a good mother.
He could not help but wonder what kind of father he would be. Surely, he did not wanted to be like his own father. The man was now dead and Tavington felt relieved of a burden. Bad memory from his childhood submerged him.
When he was 5 years old, the boy was learning to ride, in the family estate in Liverpool. He kept falling off from the pony. Once the boy arrived in the stables, his father was waiting for him. He had too many drinks, again, and could barely stand on his own. You'll never achieve anything good in life if you can't even stay on a horse, young boy. His words were lettered in his mind. He got back on the horse every day until he could perfectly master riding, hoping to make his father proud.
When he was 7, his mother was with child. She had many pregnancies before, but had miscarriages or still born child. William did not remember the other pregnancies before this one. He remembered his mother's screams in the night. The screams were soon replaced by sorrow and tears, as she lost yet another child. Young William opened his bedroom door, watched his father in the hallway. I cannot believe you will be my only child. He shook his head and left. William closed the door and cried until the morning.
When he was 9, he had gotten in trouble in school and came home with a broken nose. Other young boys were picking on him and he fought them to defend himself. Rumors about his father were spread in town and the boys were only repeating derogatory remarks they heard. The minute his father saw the blood on his shirt, he took out his belt and hit the boy until he had to more tears to cry. His mother was yelling for him to stop, but she was also hit by the belt.
When he was 12, he came home for Christmas from the boarding school he was attending. He had his school report in his bag that needed his father signature. He knew he would get beaten for his grades. Not that his grades were bad, but they were never good enough. He seriously thought about forging his signature. His father's reaction was not what he expected, as he was ready to meet his belt once again. But he made him copy the bible of around 10 hours a day, every day until he got back to the boarding school.
When he was 16, he went in a tavern and got drunk for the first time. The disputable establishment was chosen to celebrate one of his friends birthday. Late in the evening, women started to sit down at tables, looking for men to pay for their company. A woman yelled and a tavern worker held a man's arm. When he looked around, he was shocked to see his father, completely drunk, thrown in the street for assaulting a wrench. He now understood those nasty rumors about his father to be true; he was spending all his money on alcohol and women.
When he was 21, he came home for his mother's funeral. He had joined the army as soon as he could to run away from his home. He wrote to his mother a few times, but all he wanted was to cut every bridge with his family. He had to stay for a few days, since he could not make the trip back from Liverpool to London in a day. When all the guests left the gathering after the funeral ceremony, he was alone with his father. He was drunk again. I knew you were never going to achieve anything. His words were full of hate. William was not the small boy he once was. He grabbed his father's arm: Don't ever talk to me like that again. I made a life of my own, based on my own achievement. He was tempted to hit him, but his father did not even deserve his anger. He took his horse and rode all night.
When he was 28, he received a letter from his father. The old man was ill and had not long time to live. He wanted to see his son before his death. William did not reply and did not indulge his father on his last wish. He made his way to Liverpool only when his father's lawyer summoned him to read his will. He was not surprised when he learned his father had squandered his inheritance. He could still sell the family house but this would be the only money he would get.
Now, he looked back at his own family; how lucky was he with Charlotte by his side. She would always know how to handle him, even when his temper was boiling. Anger lived in him for so many years, it was easier to yell and hit than talk and listen. Slowly, she was changing him for the better. He promised himself he would not lose his temper in front of his son. He would be proud of him. Whatever he would do, he would support him.
He clearly hoped this child was a boy. His heir. Even if his tactics used in this war might have been questionable by some, he was still a renowned officer of the British army. He changed the reputation linked to his father's name and wanted his bloodline to survive.