Chapter 24: A Splendid Opportunity
The letter came with a bundle of correspondence. It was sorted with the rest, and duly delivered to Tavington. He read it at headquarters, and then read it again. His heart leaped violently: so violently that he was forced to get up, go out, and walk up and down the street a few times. He returned to the map room at Headquarters, and read the letter once more. A fierce, triumphant smile spread across his face. He left immediately. Jane must hear this news.
"A letter from my mother, with a letter from Horse Guards attached." He was positively beaming. Jane had never seen such a smile on his face.
"Your mother is well, I trust."
"Mamma? Oh, perfectly well. I thank you. She has some marvelous news, Jane." He took out the letter, and read it again, savoring the message.
Jane waited, and then, growing impatient, said, "Well? Is it a state secret?"
Tavington tossed the letter onto the table, and took Jane by the shoulders, twirling her about in an impromptu victory dance. She laughed and protested. The baby, until now undisturbed in his cradle, took note of his parents' strange antics and began making noises. Jane broke away and hurried over to him. She turned, child in her arms, and asked again, in laughing exasperation, "Well, what is it? I am all suspense."
"My dear Jane--" Tavington began, aglow with the pleasure of it. "My dear Jane, through a connection we had despaired of, I have been granted a new command. You are looking at the new colonel of the Third Dragoon Guards! A full colonelcy at last!"
Jane could understand his pleasure in having a command of his own again, and observed, "A promotion! That is a fine thing."
"Jane," Tavington said patiently, "This is one of the most distinguished regiments in the army! 'The Prince of Wales' Own!'"
"When does the regiment arrive?"
"Jane!" Amused and provoked by her obtuseness, he slapped the wall impatiently. "The regiment is in London. It is I who am joining it. We are for England, as soon as may be!"
"England!" her cry of astonishment was echoed by little Will. His grey-blue eyes were wide, and Jane cooed the baby back into complacency. The tiny eyelids drooped, and Jane laid him carefully back in the cradle. More softly, she continued her questions. "We will be leaving soon, you say?"
"As soon as I can secure passage for us. This is a splendid opportunity. I knew my mother's connections would prove useful some day. Better late that never!" He walked around the room, unable to calm himself. "Is there any hope of tea?"
Jane immediately called for Letty, who glided in, glided out, and returned shortly with the tea things. Jane looked anxiously after her retreating figure. "I must speak to Letty. This will be such a change for her."
She poured the tea and handed the cup to her husband.
"I daresay," Tavington grunted, eyes narrowed in thought. "One would think so." He had been thinking for some time about Letty. He prided himself on paying his debts, and he owed the pretty creature a great deal. She had been a party to saving his life; her mother had died defending his wife and child; and she had been cruelly oppressed by Jane's father, whom Tavington loathed. Jane would need her when transplanted to a strange land. He had been playing with a most radical notion for some time, and had developed it more since the escapade of the African Ball. Now he would approach Jane with it. "She'll be a free woman in England, you know…"
Jane lowered her cup, eyes wide. "Free! I mean—how wonderful…." Her voice trailed off, and she looked at Tavington in horror. "She could leave me!"
Tavington assumed a properly sympathetic expression. Just the reaction I'd hoped for. "Well, of course she could, my dear, though if you paid her sufficient wages she might stay for some time. Of course, there is a way to keep her bound to you forever—"
His wife was hanging on his words, obviously terrified at the possibility of losing one so dear to her. Tavington hated toying with her feelings, but in this case it was unavoidable. It was a dreadful thing to be brought up so blind to the realities of one's life. He would have to bear the storm that was certain to result in his next words. "A servant is bound only by wages, and may leave when it is convenient, but a sister is always a sister."
Jane set her cup down, looking at him as if he had spoken Greek. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She sat there, breathing quickly, and swallowed. She licked her lips, and whispered, "A sister?"
"Come, my dear," Tavington urged her, tired of South Carolina, its Slave Code, and all its unsavory ways. "You must know perfectly well that your dear little Letty is your sister. Your father as much as boasted of it to me one night over his wine. He went on at some length about his relations with poor Biddy, talking about her in such crude--"
"Oh, don't!" Jane cried, nearly weeping. "Don't say anything about Biddy! If you knew how it hurts me that she's gone!"
He was determined to press the matter. "All the more reason that her daughter should receive just treatment, Jane. Letty is a gentleman's daughter. A natural daughter, true, but a gentleman's daughter all the same. In England, an acknowledged natural child would be brought up accordingly. Letty would most probably have been sent to school, educated as becomes a lady, had some money settled on her to secure her future. Instead, her father here enslaved her, made her work as a house servant, never troubled himself to protect her from---"
"Stop!" Jane was more and more distressed. "I can't listen to this! It's so impossible! Letty is an octoroon! Letty is a quarter Cherokee! Letty is a slave! She can't be my sister!" Starting up, Jane ran into their bedroom and slammed the door. Tavington followed, grimly intent on having it out. He saw Letty standing wide-eyed by the staircase. He gave her a little ironic smile, and a nod. Her mouth opened, too, just like Jane's, and he was briefly amused at the unexpected resemblance.
Well, he would pay his debt, and this girl would be acknowledged as his sister-in-law. Tavington loved his sisters, and the thought of them treated as this girl had been disgusted him. It would be a pleasant piece of revenge to raise someone that Jane's father had so kept down. He wished he could see the man's face when he heard of it.
"Never fear, Letty," he said gravely, seeing the girl's fright and bewilderment. "I shall sort out the matter. We were just discussing our departure to England. I have received a new appointment there, and we will be going very soon. Of course we wish you to come with us."
"To England?" Letty whispered.
"Yes, yes, to England, where, as I explained to Jane, you will be a free woman."
The girl seemed to bloom at his words, an expression of unbearable longing making her lovely face radiant. "Free!"
Well, Tavington admitted to himself, it was an oversimplification. Lord Mansfield's ruling on the case of an escaped slave in England a few years ago had seemed to set a precedent to that effect. No one who mattered to Tavington would think other than he did, however. "Yes, free, my dear. And I was just speaking with---Jane—about how much your situation would change once we leave South Carolina." He paused, wanting to put it simply enough. "You will find England a very different place. Now, if you will excuse me. I need to speak a little more with my wife."
Letty watched him disappear into his bedchamber, and heard him speaking quietly and firmly to Miss Jane. What she had overheard had shocked her deeply. Yes, of course she knew that the Old Master was her father. Mama had told her that long ago, but she had always understood how little that meant. The Old Master had let her be raised in the nursery with Miss Jane, and had never given her heavy work. He had even let her be baptized as a little girl, a very unusual favor for a slave. Nonetheless, she had always known she was nothing but a slave to him. If Miss Jane had fallen sick and died, Letty would have belonged to the Old Master, and he would not have hesitated to sell her on the auction block in Charlestown, if there was profit to be made from it.
But the Colonel had come right out and talked to Miss Jane about Letty being her sister! She hoped Miss Jane would not be angry with her or punish her. Miss Jane was the most important person in her life, and her goodwill was everything in the world to Letty.
She sat down by the cradle, tucking in the sleeping William Francis. The way the Colonel talked, this little baby might someday call her Aunt Letty! She tried to imagine what it would be like to sail away to a land where she would be free. She might actually wear a beautiful ball gown again, and dance in public with gentlemen who would not sneer at her. It seemed an impossible dream. She had read the books with Miss Jane, and she could picture a kind of England in her mind: a green, cool place with the great city of London, a city bigger than Charlestown; a place where Jenny Peace and Polly Suckling happily went to Mrs. Teachum's school; a place where the King lived, a great gold crown on his head, and with palaces full of Princes and Princesses; a place where a pretty white servant like Pamela could marry a gentleman; a place where half the men, it seemed, wrote poetry that she had read along with Miss Jane on those long, dreamy evenings. What she could not picture there, however, was herself, Letty, among those sights—and certainly not as the sister of her own mistress.
-----Tavington closed the door behind him, and sat on the edge of the bed. Jane was lying on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow. Her shoulders were shaking, but she did not appear to be weeping. Rather, she seemed to be in shock, as it Tavington had breached every standard of decent behavior, and inflicted a grievous wound
"Jane."
She did not turn, but quieted a little. He heard her draw a deep, ragged breath.
"Listen to me. I cannot imagine how difficult it is for you to overcome the attitudes and customs of your birthplace, but so it must be. You are an Englishwoman. You will be living in England." He repeated what he had said to Letty. "You will find England very different than South Carolina."
She was listening, at least.
"I know that you love Letty. How can you condemn her to a life of misery and servitude? Think of all we owe to her—and to her mother. No, don't start weeping again. This is too serious a matter. Your sister has been gravely wronged by your father. He has treated her even worse than he treated you. You cannot allow yourself to be governed by his prejudices and small-mindedness. Think for yourself, rationally and independently, about Letty's situation. Should she not have her birthright? You must understand how she longs for it." I certainly can, he thought. The events of the past week have made it starkly apparent.
Jane's voice was hoarse, and muffled by the pillow.
"It's so strange—so unheard of!"
Impatiently, Tavington snapped, "It's only unheard of in the southern colonies, which is really a rather small place in the grand scheme of things!" He mastered himself. "And really, think how much more pleasant it will be to have Letty as a sister. She will live with us and be your companion as she has always been, but it will be in your power to treat her with even greater kindness. You have told me yourself how you like to see her dressed well."
Jane made a little noise of grudging agreement.
"Well, in England you can indulge yourself without any reference to the ridiculous Slave Code. Letty can sit with you, be your public companion, and thus be a better support for you in your future life in England." An unpleasant realization crossed his mind. "She can read, can she not?"
Jane turned around then, and lay listlessly on her side, appearing exhausted from the sudden onslaught of new ideas. "Oh yes, quite well. When Miss Gilpin was teaching me, Letty often overheard the lessons, and sometimes we played school, and she learned to write, too." She sighed. "I suppose I've always known, underneath it all, that Papa was also her father. She's always been so important to me, and we were closer than I would imagine people consider proper for mistress and slave." She bit her lip, and then confessed. "After Miss Gilpin was gone, and we were in Charlestown, where she slept in my room, we would read and talk all night long. And—" she glanced up at him uneasily. "—that's when I started teaching her to play the spinet."
Tavington actually laughed. So that was how it happened. "Very nicely, too; though she will never equal you there, my dear Jane."
"I was afraid you would be angry."
He did not comprehend her immediately. Then—"Angry at you for teaching her? No, not at all. I am glad that my—" he enunciated the words clearly—"sister-in-law has something of an education. Our voyage will last some time. We can help her become accustomed to her new role, and encourage her to speak as she should."
"I think Letty knows how to speak properly. It's just that she wouldn't have wanted to seem—above herself. It might have caused trouble for her."
"Very well." He took off his boots, and lay down beside Jane, putting a comforting arm around her. "I know, Jane, that this will be a great change for you, but in the end, it will be for the best. Both you and she will be the happier for it."
"Please—give me some time to get used to the idea. It still sounds so outlandish to me."
"Not too much time. I must be finding us a ship soon."
She laid her head against his shoulder. "So you are saying that the minute she steps onto the ship, we should start treating her as a lady?"
"Well—I think we might start practicing a little here at home. But yes, when she embarks, it will not be as Letty, slave to Mrs Tavington, but as Miss Laeticia Rutledge!"
-----
Jane was still struggling with the idea of accepting Letty as a sister, but there were many other decisions to made before their departure.
When she left South Carolina, she would be leaving forever, and leaving behind everything she had known. It had been her dream for years; but now, confronted with her dream's imminent realization, it occurred to her that she would be very much alone, but for her husband and Letty. Letters might come on occasion, to keep her apprised of events on this side of the great gulf of Ocean, but she would have no friends or family to call upon. William promised her the friendship of his sisters, but they were an unknown quality.
The baby wriggled in her lap, and she watched Moll going through a crate of clothing.
A few days after they had called on her father, the crate had arrived, filled with all of Jane's possessions from Cedar Hill and the townhouse that she had not been able to take with her on her journey north. A tactful note from Aunt Alice was enclosed, and Jane was finally forced to revise her opinion of that quiet little woman. It was very kindly thought of, indeed. The bulk of the contents consisted of clothing. Most of if was old, but some of it was in good condition, and could be made over, or cut up for other garments.
Much of it also needed a good laundering. Moll was sorting through the garments, humming a tuneless song. No, it was not quite humming, but a strange fluting, puffed out on her breath as she worked. Jane was used to the sound, unmusical as it was, and used to Moll and her hearty ways. She was a good soul, and so very brave and reliable. Little Will knew her and seemed content to be held by her…
"Moll, there is something I should speak to you about."
Moll looked up, still busily folding. "Yes, ma'am?"
"It seems that Colonel Tavington has received a new appointment." She paused, thinking through what to say. "He has been given command of a regiment in England, and it appears we will be leaving Charlestown quite soon."
The petticoats were not dropped, but clutched instead in an impulse of surprise. Moll looked blankly at her, and then panicked.
Her mouth arranged itself in a semblance of a smile. With an effort, she rallied, and said, "I'm right glad for you, ma'am. The Colonel ought to be rewarded for all he's gone through in this here war. You reckon you'll be gone in a month or two?" She tried not to show how upset she was by the news. This place with the Tavingtons had been the first piece of real luck she had had since the start of the war. She and Bob Royston had built up a nice little place in the first few years of their marriage, but with the war, everything had gone wrong: they had been driven out of the county, their little boy had died, they had joined up with the Dragoons, and then the rebels got Royston too. She was getting on, too: she was over thirty now, and what chance did she have to find a good man and settle down in the middle of a war? A camp was no place to raise a baby. She'd seen for herself what the mothers suffered, and she wanted no part of it.
What would she do if Colonel Tavington left? Who would give her a place? She had no money, no family, and had nothing but hard work and hunger to look forward to. She was so frightened at the sudden vision of her future that she did not hear what Jane said to her at first.
"We—I mean I—I was hoping that you might consider traveling with us to England. Little Will needs a nurse we can trust, and he is used to you. I can guess what you're thinking. The voyage will be long and hard, but remember that when it is over, we shall all be in a land at peace. Do consider it, Moll. I shall be so alone in England—"
"Yes."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Yes, ma'am. I'd be proud to go with you." It had taken only a split second to make her decision. In that moment, a host of memories flashed before her: Royston, his image already fading; Baby Charlie's unmarked grave; her father whittling outside a tiny log cabin while a little Moll, red braids bobbing, ran through the dappled light of the dark forest; her mother's telling her of her voyage from England as they boiled soap. All her work, all Royston's work, all her parents' work: years of work, and nothing to show for it. And now she was the last of them, with only Mrs. Tavington's good will between her and poverty.
Jane was surprised at Moll's instant agreement. Pleased, of course, but uneasy, wondering how Moll would react to her next piece of news.
"Before you make any promises, Moll, there is something you should know. Letty will be coming with us, of course, but her circumstances will be altered." Moll did not understand what was meant, and waited for an explanation. Jane took a deep breath, and danced around the matter a little.
"Do you remember, when we first met, how you took Letty for my sister?"
"Well--yes, ma'am." Moll remembered it perfectly. Of course she had taken Letty for Mrs. Tavington's sister when it was plain as the nose on your face that Letty was Mrs. Tavington's sister.
"Well—Letty really is my sister, and Colonel Tavington does not like it that a gentleman's daughter should be a slave. They don't own slaves in England, you know. He wants her to travel to England with us as my sister, and as a---lady."
Not quite understanding the difficulty, Moll waited for more information. Jane felt she must be blunt.
"Will you be uncomfortable being a servant in a household where Letty is treated as a lady?"
Moll considered this. Ordinarily it might seem shocking, but she was already used to the idea that Letty was her mistress' sister. Letty had a lady's education: she could read and write and cipher some, and she could do fine needlework and play on the spinet like other fine ladies. She was a pretty little thing, too, and looked as much a lady as any of them. Moll did not deceive herself that she was in any way Letty's equal when it came to manners or learning. All she wanted was a good, safe place with good people. And it would break her heart to bid farewell to that little boy…
"No, ma'am, I can get used to that. I can call her 'Miss Letty,' if that's the way you want it. Wouldn't be right for me to look down on her for being a slave. My own mother—well, she come over more'n fifty years ago, and her indenture was sold to a real bad man. He was only supposed to keep her for seven years, but there was always something—some money he made out she owed him—or some such trick. She was in his house for nigh on ten years, and was no better'n a slave there herself. In the end she had to run away with my Pa. No, ma'am, if you want to call your sister by her right name, it ain't for me to make a fuss. I'm mighty happy here, and I'd just as soon go along with you all."
She looked down and saw that she had wrinkled the petticoats, wringing her hands in her fright. They would have to ironed all over again. It was a small matter. Mrs. Tavington was keeping her on. It was the best opportunity she was ever going to have, and she'd curtsey to the Devil and call him 'sir' before she'd let it slip from her grasp.
-----
Tavington broke the matter to Seth himself, after calling in at the menservants' quarters to see how Silas was faring. The old man was not recovering as he ought. Martin's last victim, he reflected, sorry that he had not killed his enemy earlier. His womenfolk and Mrs. Todd's maid were taking good care of Silas, but Tavington suspected he would not last more than a month at most. After chatting for a little while, and making a present of some good rum for the old man to enjoy, Tavington took Seth aside to discuss his plans.
"No, sir, Colonel. You know I can't go and leave him—" Seth jerked his head toward his father, resting on the narrow bed. "'Sides, I got things to tend to here'bouts."
"I quite understand. I am sorry you cannot travel with us, but I did not expect you to leave your old father behind. Before I go, of course, I want to see that the two of you are provided for. In England, faithful old servants like your father are pensioned off. At the very least, I shall give you both your freedom—"
Seth looked up, eyes alight. "Thank you, Colonel!"
Tavington smiled briefly, unaccustomed to so much gratitude. Besides, he had more to say. "Freedom is all very well, but hardly suffices. I am more concerned that you have a way to make your living when we are gone. An annuity is a possibility—"
"Beg pardon, Colonel?"
"A sum of money to be paid to you regularly. But I thought instead to give you the carriage and a pair of horses. You could hire yourself out as a hack driver and thus have a steady income that might well be better—"
Seth was grinning like the eternal Sun.
Tavington raised a brow. "I take it that this is agreeable to you?"
"Yes, sir!"
Really, it is a very pleasant thing to make honest servants happy. It would be a waste of time and money to try to transport the carriage and horses. It took weeks for horses to recover from a long voyage, and he was impatient to be home. He had already made his plans. Once ashore, he would hire a hack chaise to take them to London. There he would be at leisure to order the latest fashion in carriages and scout out a first-rate team and driver. It would be unattractively tight-fisted to haggle over the sum that the outmoded chariot would bring, and it eased his conscience in the bargain to make the young man the present.
Feeling even better about his generosity, he did more. "Think over which of the horses you prefer. You shall have your choice of them."
"Thank you, Colonel! Thank you! I can't wait to tell Pappy! Two horses! I never reckoned I'd have this kind of luck!"
"Yes—well—you're a good fellow, Seth. We'll take care of the manumission tomorrow—but understand that I expect you to remain in my service until the day I leave."
Seth nodded, still exulting. It appeared to Tavington that he had understood what he said, and so he left; while Seth, still glowing, ran to his father to tell him the great news.
-----
Bordon had taken the last trick and was smiling quietly. Tavington was glad to be his partner at whist. They were winning consistently tonight—an uncommon run of luck for Tavington. A few extra guineas in one's purse was always pleasant.
"Shall we have another rubber?" asked Bordon.
"Not I," decided Tavington. "It's growing late, and I would like to be home by ten." He waved a servant over for another glass of brandy. The house, one of the establishments that had sprung up to accommodate the influx of soldiers, catered to the officer trade, and was part gaming house, part brothel. It was one of the best of them, in Tavington's opinion. The service was acceptable, the girls pretty to look at and not unduly loud, and while the menu was limited, the food and wine were good.
Their less fortunate opponents took themselves off to the girls, good-naturedly decrying Bordon's skill at cards. Bordon gave Tavington a keen look, and remarked, "I hear we are to lose your services presently."
"Yes. A great stroke of good fortune. A guards regiment, and in London! I never expected such an appointment."
"I am very happy for you."
"And what of you, Bordon? Will you stay here and wait for the Crown's rewards?" Tactfully, Tavington said nothing of his friend's injuries. Bordon's arm was not healing well. He described an unpleasant, tingling sensation, and had difficult in achieving the needed range of motion for a soldier. The surgeons had proclaimed it "nerve damage." There was little likelihood that he would ever be fit enough to engage in combat again.
"We both know that the rewards for this war will be slim—or nonexistent. You know my opinion of the Virginia strategy."
"Indeed. And I share it. One hardly knows what to make of the dispatches. Cornwallis is carrying all before him—but his army is constantly shrinking, and the rebels keep drawing him on. I fear a disaster in the making, and I do not want my name associated with it. As much as I hated it, perhaps my wounds were providential."
"Perhaps." Bordon grimaced. "While I would not go so far myself, I too am glad to be in Charlestown in comparative safety. Military glory is all very well when one is younger, but I have a wife and two children and I want very much to see them again."
"What have you decided to do after the war?"
"Well, it's obvious that my military career is over. No," he said, shaking his head. "I am not afraid of the truth. I plan to stay here as long as possible, drawing my pay, but I've had my share of adventure, and would welcome a change."
"Will you try planting? You were interested in the West Indies."
"I think—not." Bordon looked out the window, studying the harbor, partly visible from the gaming room. "There's money to be made in sugar, no doubt, but it means gambling with one's own life and the lives of one's family. We've both seen what fever and heat can do. And I've decided that I'm not the stuff of which slave drivers are made. I would not want my son to witness such things and learn to be a slave driver as well. No. I've thought it through. It's time to go home."
"To England?" Tavington felt a rush of pleasure. Perhaps he could see Bordon again, if they were both in England.
"Yes, back home to Berkshire. I have my savings and a little inheritance; and Harriet has a bit of money from her family. Altogether we should live quite comfortably, if not grandly."
"You would not want to be idle, I think. Will you attempt the history of the campaign?"
"Don't laugh. Someone must do it. Perhaps I shall do a bit of writing. And I am determined to have an occupation. I shall take orders."
Tavington was astonished. "You will become a clergyman?"
"Why not? I already have my degree. I shall see the bishop and be ordained as soon as I return. Perhaps my uncle can find me a living somewhere. I don't ask much: a curacy in the country would do. After my experience with chaplains in the army, I've decided I could hardly do worse than they. Perhaps better."
:"I have no doubt you would be an excellent clergyman. It's just—such a change."
Bordon put his cards away, and shrugged. "Life would be a dull thing, if we decided at twenty how we would spend the rest of our days. This will be something new."
"Do you think Mrs. Bordon will like being a clergyman's wife?"
"Yes, I rather think she would. Or at least I think Harriet would like seeing a bit more of me than she has in the past few years, anyway."
Tavington finished his drink and rose. He had a pressing appointment tonight. A chance meeting with his one-time mistress, pretty Nan Haskins, had revealed that she was soon to be married to a sergeant. Tavington had wished her joy, but made plain that he would like to bid her a farewell in a place more private that the street.
He left Bordon to the pleasures of the house, forbearing to laugh tonight at his friend's cautious use of the beribboned sheepskin prophylactic he scrupulously washed after every use. Bordon never seemed put out at Tavington's jokes, but smugly said that he preferred to remain one of the half of the army that was not poxed. "And hardly an attractive gift to take home, I think."
"No, indeed."
-----
Nan had a little garret room above a wigmaker. She had told Tavington not to knock and awaken her landlady, but to allow her to let him in the back door at nine o'clock. The shop he found without trouble, and the door opened for him as soon as he made his way through the little vegetable garden behind. She must have been looking for me, he thought, pleased.
Hurriedly, she showed him in, asking him to walk softly on the narrow, squeaking stairs. "I oughtn't to do this, Colonel. We'll have to be mighty quiet."
He nuzzled her tiny ear, and murmured. "Silent as the tomb, dear Nan." They passed the bedchambers above, and went up the next flight of steps to the garret. It was a tiny room, with a small bed, and walls that slanted in on either side of the single casement window. Nan silently shut the door behind them and then flung herself at Tavington, covering his face with kisses.
He clutched at her, overwhelmed with excitement. Hunger, desperate hunger cancelled thought and reason. He needed a woman, and Nan was here and ready. Better to satisfy his desires now than plague poor Jane, who still needed weeks of recovery before she could resume her wifely duties.
Nan was as eager as he, her eyes sparkling with merriment as she fumbled with his buttons. "Hurry!" she urged, smothering a laugh as he tried to kiss her. "Later!"
His coatee and waistcoat were off, and he helped her in his turn, unfastening her plain cotton gown and helping her unknot her petticoat ties. When she began unlacing her stays, he grunted with impatience, and lifted her in his arms to take her as she was. She kicked her strong legs playfully, letting him lay her on the bed.
Which squeaked, most horribly. She made a face, and drew up her shift invitingly. Feeling that his breeches were entirely too tight, Tavington nearly ripped the buttons from them in his impatience.
Nan's voice was smoky with desire. "You're a fine, upstanding man, Colonel. As always."
With a sharp laugh, Tavington lowered himself onto her, and the bed complained alarmingly. "Not made for two, it seems," he whispered.
In revenge, she clawed his shirt up and dug her nails into his back. Tavington reared back, lifting her legs around him, and eased into her slowly, amused at her quivering, impatient rage.
"Now!" she growled. "'Tis not gentlemanly to tease a poor girl."
"Patience is a virtue, my dear."
"Oh Lord, sir! Faster!"
His hips slammed into her in a mad hammering. There was no squeaking bed, no suspicious landlady, nothing but the woman beneath him, whose hand grabbed at his flanks, pushing him in, in, in…
It would be so easy to surrender to it, so easy for it to be over in seconds. Tavington, with a fierce effort, controlled himself, taking his time, savoring the pleasure and taking care that the woman underneath him would remember him fondly. He had always liked Nan, anyway, and liked her more than ever at the moment. She deserved his best. What little thought he was capable of channeled into remembering just how she liked being touched--yes, that was it. A little longer, and she began thrashing, clutching at him spasmodically. No need to wait any longer--no--faster, now. Another moment, and he gave a deep, long groan of relief.
He lay there, pleasantly dazed, and croaked, "I should be on my way."
"Oh, rest a little, Colonel. No need for you to run off."
Very carefully, he rolled away, remembering that the bed was narrow. He stretched out beside her, letting her curl up against him and stroke his chest. "Well, certainly not before I give you your wedding present," he mumbled, trying not to fall asleep. This was certainly very comfortable...
"You brought me a present! Where is it?" She giggled, and her hand stroked lower. "Is this what you mean?"
"Saucy wench." He sat up and reached over the side of the bed for his discarded waistcoat. From the pocket he drew out a little necklace. Dangling it before an enchanted Nan, he declared, smirking, "With my compliments on your impending vows."
"Oh! How pretty!" It was a heart carved from rock crystal, mounted in gold, with a thin gold chain. Nan fastened it around her neck at once. "I ain't never seen finer!" She thanked him with a hearty kiss. "I'll wear it to be married in!"
Tavington found the idea of Nan wearing his necklace to her wedding rather amusing. "I do wish you and Sergeant Welburn every happiness." On impulse, he retrieved some of his gaming winnings from another pocket. "Look here. It's a bit of money I came by. Perhaps it will help you get established in your married life."
"Twenty pounds!" she cried. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she whispered. "What I can't do with twenty pounds!" She opened the little pouch, letting the coins clink over her palm in wonder. She took a deep breath, and put them carefully back. Without warning she threw herself on Tavington.
"That's two presents, Colonel. I reckon I should do something to deserve them!"
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How nice to have a wife to come home to. Tavington ran silently up the steps to his lodgings. Jane was still up, feeding his little son.
"Did you have a pleasant meeting?" she asked, with that milk-drowsy smile she often had on her lips when she nursed William Francis. He settled into the chair opposite her, enjoying the pretty sight.
Ah, yes, the meeting. "It went extremely well. Captain Bordon sends his compliments. And—oh! I must tell you. He's taken it into his head to go into the church after the war!"
To his surprise, she did not find it absurd, as he did, but seemed very pleased. "Really! What a good idea! Will he return to England?"
"Yes. We may be reunited there someday, and that would be pleasant indeed."
"Oh, yes! And perhaps I shall finally meet Mrs. Bordon. I feel as if I already know her. I sent off a letter to Miss Gilpin today, to let her know I was coming to England. How pleased she will be!" Will was finished on the right, so she deftly moved him to her left breast, without losing the thread of the conversation. "I spoke to Moll about our journey, and she is quite resolved on accompanying us. She even understood about Letty. It is as if she regards Letty as a lady already."
"Moll is a very sensible woman. I am glad she will be with us. If the French attack, we'll be well defended."
She laughed. Tavington was glad to see her spirits returning. She was looking very much improved, as well. It would be most agreeable when they could resume their relations. At least another month, he reminded himself. I must be patient.
He told her, "I've decided to free Seth and Silas. By way of pension, I am giving Seth the carriage and two of the horses. He should be able to earn his bread well enough so."
"I should think so, indeed. That is very generous of you."
"You disapprove?"
"No—" She thought, and then repeated, "No. Papa doesn't believe in freeing any of his slaves, but I can see that freeing them after good service would give the others something to look forward to. It might make them work better, even." Will was finished, and gave her an enormous grin of satisfaction. She laughed, and drew Tavington's attention to his son's expression.
"The little villain," he laughed. "Already a gourmet!"
Jane brought the child up to her shoulder, rubbing the small back. The boy responded with a resounding belch that made Tavington laugh again. "He'll need to learn some manners, I daresay!"
The baby was gathered up in his quilt, and Jane took him into the room Letty and Moll shared, where his cradle was kept at night. When she reappeared, she was thoughtful.
"Will you take Letty with you, when you sign the papers for Seth and Silas?"
Tavington had thought about this, and answered, "No. It is important for the men, as they will be staying here, and will need legal documents to protect them. For your sister, the point will be moot. As far as I am concerned, she should never have been considered a slave in the first place. For her, manumission only emphasizes that she was indeed a slave. I would prefer she put that chapter of her life entirely behind her." There was a another reason too. He did not want his intentions about Letty known here in Charlestown before they left. Letty was legally Jane's property now, but if she were free, Rutledge might be able to make trouble, and claim control of her as her father.
Jane blew out a breath. "It is a change indeed. If she is to be truly my sister, I must needs see to her traveling clothes!"
Tavington rose, and took her hands in his affectionately. " And we must make our calls on your lawyer and your bankers, to have your fortune put in order for the voyage, as well. Letters of credit—some coin and banknotes—it must all be arranged. But that is for tomorrow, certainly. You need your rest, my dear. Come along."
"I am a little tired."
"Then let me be your tire-woman, and put you to bed." He kissed her ear playfully. "I shall unlace your stays, brush out your hair, and see that you are entirely comfortable."
Shyly, she kissed him back. "Sometimes you are so nice, William."
"Sometimes!" he repeated, with mock indignation.
"Yes, you are," she softly affirmed. "I confess I very much look forward to the time when I can—be a proper wife again."
He kissed her again, very pleased with her. "And so do I, my Jane; but we must not be in too much haste. I promised never to hurt you again, and I can wait perfectly well until you are completely recovered."
As he shut the door of their bedchamber behind them, he caught her against him, murmuring, "But that does not mean that there are not other ways to amuse you!"
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Next—Chapter 25: Over the Horizon