"Your Lordship?" Tavington stood at attention. He had finished his patrol and was eager to return home, but Cornwallis had, as Tavington had expected he would, called the Colonel into his tent.
"You are never late, Colonel. Punctuality is one of the few things I can rely on you for. However, now even that is in question." Cornwallis leaned forward on his desk so he could glare more fiercely into his defiant Colonel's eyes. "You put yourself closer and closer to expulsion from this army, Colonel. I grow sick, bloody sick of your attitude!"
Tavington nodded impatiently, silently begging Cornwallis to make this short, but it seemed the Lord General was in the mood for a good rant, and Tavington was unfortunately forced to hear it. Just wait it out, there's no way you can get out of this, Tavington thought restlessly.
By the time he was free to go, after checking in with the other captains and receiving reports, it was dusk. Tension wound in coils up Tavington's spine, and he still had to make his evening patrol before he could return home. He flung aside his tent flap to find himself face to face with a curvaceous blonde woman. They stared at each other for a moment before Tavington broke the silence.
"May I ask what you are doing here, before my tent, miss?" She giggled, sticking out her chest.
"You give me far too much credit there, sir. I's no proper young 'miss.' That's for sure." Her voice was sultry as she gave him a look that spoke volumes about why she was there.
Tavington's pride soared. He had always been popular among the camp followers. Tavington looked the woman over, not realizing how much he had missed picking out a different whore for each night. Vivienne was his wife, yes, but she was his property and would contend with his conditions to their marriage. If he wanted a taste of something new, she could hardly object.
"Come," he invited, putting his arm around the woman's waist as he led her into his tent "Can I offer you a drink?"
"Sir!" Bordon brushed aside Tavington's tent flap to deliver news of the evening patrol, only to find the colonel locked in the embrace of a blonde woman. The Captain stood still, paralyzed with shock as Tavington broke from the woman in annoyance.
"Can you not see that I am busy, Bordon?" He growled, eyes cold. Bordon nodded stiffly, all thoughts of his report vaporized as he bolted back through the tent flap.
Vivienne sat nervously in the kitchen. Tavington had never been this late before. It was dark, and her stomach was cramping in hunger. Perhaps General Cornwallis has kept him for being late this morning, she thought with worry, hoping that her husband's lateness was not her fault.
When at last she heard the door creak open, she leapt to her feet, dashing to the foyer.
"Will - "
She stopped when she saw him. His hair was unwound from its queue and his clothes were askew, his cravat unknotted. However, it was the cloying stench of perfume emanating from him that made her most suspicious. He closed the door and turned to her.
"What is the matter, Vivienne?" He was perfectly calm. "Well?" He held up his arms and she obediently stepped into them, kissing him as she always did. She breathed in shallowly to avoid the scent of the perfume, parting her lips to let his tongue entwine with hers. Suddenly, she pulled away.
"William, you taste different. What –" No, he wouldn't . . . "You haven't . . . been with another woman?" Say no, please. She silently begged him to laugh at her silliness and take her in his arms.
"And if I have?" His voice was cool as the metal blade of his rapier, piercing her heart.
"How could you?" Vivienne was stunned, but not too stunned to be furious with him.
"It was not planned, darling. But I needed a fix and you weren't there - "
"Is this what our marriage is worth to you? Is this what our love is worth to you? How can you take so scared a sacrament and shatter it? What rules will you obey?" Her voice had risen to a scream, her eyes fiery, hazed in red.
"Vivienne, stop all this," Tavington interrupted sharply, his lip quivering in anger. "Let's have dinner – "
"I will not sit down to eat with an adulterer - "
"That is enough!" Tavington's hand came down across her cheek, the resulting smack resounding through the air. She tottered backwards, breathing shakily as she clutched her throbbing cheek. Tavington came forward, backing her against the wall.
"You will not speak to me in such a way, Vivienne. You are my wife, and I am able to do with you as I please. If I desire to have another woman, I am lawfully free to do so, and you will have no say in it. But such an occurrence is not routine. You are carrying my child and therefore the most important woman in my life." He kissed her cheek before striding off into the dining room.
Tavington felt a pang of guilt as he left his stricken wife standing in the foyer. Bedding the blonde had been instinctual, and, though he once would have congratulated himself on another conquest, this time he felt sick with himself for betraying Vivienne so. He had not intended for her to find out, but the disarray of his clothing and hair would have been hard to ignore, not to mention the stench of perfume. Why was it that whores always wore such strong perfume?
He sighed, silently acknowledging his mistake. There would be no more whores. As it was, he had pained his wife deeply, and carrying a child, she was substantially more delicate these days.
Vivienne came to sit at the table, eyes empty. She sat next to her husband as she always did, but her usual smiles and flirtations were absent tonight. Silence thickened between them as the servants brought out the food. Soft scrapings of forks and knives on ceramic resounded painfully in Tavington's ears, but his pride would not allow him to apologize.