Vivienne lay there, covered in blankets, safe from the cool night air. But she could not get to sleep for the buzzing of her mind. Vivienne was thinking about sex. What was it like? She had come terribly close to finding out more than once. So many times she could have given in to temptation, but something had held her back each time. She had been raised with the ideal of saving her virginity for her husband, and she intended to do just that. And, of course, there was so much more to a happy marriage than what went on in the bedroom. A shock of tension zipped through her previously relaxed body as she realized how likely it would be for Tavington to just have his way with her and then forget the whole marriage business.
It was quite some time before Vivienne could quiet her mind enough to sleep. She told herself she had plenty of time to decide whether she could love Tavington and left it at that. She would make sure they talked more at their next meeting.
"I always dreamed of a home out in the country, away from all this," Vivienne said the next night, gesturing at the camp of soldiers. She sat in the cool grass, Tavington across from her.
He didn't respond, which Vivienne noticed. She felt doubt rising in her mind once again about the whole situation. To ease herself, Vivienne floated away into her favorite dream, the one with her little country house, children playing in the yard, and her husband's arm wrapped lovingly about her waist . . .
"When we are married, where shall we live?" she asked with a dreamy little sigh.
"I shall have to remain here until the war is over, so I suppose you shall stay in a town near by," he replied.
"Of course, but after the war is over . . . ?"
"I don't know. I haven't given the matter much thought, really."
"And . . . suppose we were to find a fine little house surrounded by rolling hills and sunny skies, we would have a family? With children?"
"Children? A bit soon to be worrying about that, is it not?"
"It never hurts to plan ahead."
He was silent in response. Vivienne sat, leaning back on her elbows.
"Don't you want children?"
"Not particularly." There. He said it. But why did he feel ashamed for saying so. . . ?
Before she could reply, the bushes nearby rustled in the way of something moving through them. Tavington bolted up, a pistol in his hand. He grabbed Vivienne's wrist, forcing her behind him. A large shape moved in the darkness and Vivienne's heart pounded like a war drum. Tavington cocked his gun.
"Show yourself," he barked with the air of a true colonel.
Benjamin Martin stepped out of the brush, his face expressionless. Tavington felt rage course through him, but he remained still as the despicable man, responsible for the humiliation of Tavington himself, and the rest of the British army, came forward.
"You're wasting your time with this man. He'll only bring you misery," Martin said solemnly, addressing Vivienne.
She peeked around Tavington at this man with his American accent, his long hair pulled out of its queue by branches and wind. Tavington sneered at Benjamin Martin,
"Don't speak to her," he growled at his enemy. Ignoring Tavington, Benjamin Martin continued to stare at Vivienne.
"He didn't tell you what he truly thinks of children, did he?" Martin's voice was low and calm, but he was struggling to keep it so as his gaze was locked with that of this lovely lady, which the likes of Tavington certainly didn't deserve.
"He killed my son, my fifteen-year old son, with pleasure, and with that very pistol." Martin's control wavered a bit and his ache to wring Tavington's neck made his knees go weak. Vivienne stammered in protest, protecting her fiancé.
"No, no he would never - " she broke off as Tavington didn't say a word, but held his icy gaze steady, the point of his pistol locked on Benjamin Martin, denying not a thing. Tears caught in her throat as she looked from one man to another, trying to choke out something, anything.
But as the seconds passed and not a word came from anyone, the truth of it descended on Vivienne. She tore her wrist from Tavington's grasp and ran out into the forest, a sob escaping her. Tavington's eyes flicked to her departing form. But he had erred in breaking his concentration. In the moment he looked away, Benjamin Martin had disappeared into the foliage.
Cursing under his breath, Tavington ran after Vivienne, following the sound of her sporadic sobs.