A/N: Ok, should have posted this with the beginning chapter, but well, I didn't. So, here it is! No, don't own The Patriot. Don't own Benjamin Martin(thank God). Definitely don't own Colonel Tavington(wish I did!). However, I DO own everything else.
Mona stood back in the shadowy alcove listening.
And watching.
She saw the elderly servant usher her sister, and Colonel Tavington into the dining room, then return to the kitchens. All had gone quiet after that.
Though, it had not been quiet before this.
No, she had stood there listening to the conversation between them. And as she listened, fire seemed to spread throughout limbs and body...fire she not thought possible after all these years.
Fire. She shuddered involuntarily. The Rebels had burned their stables. The slave quarters and most of the fields. The only thing they had left untouched, was the house.
Shadowgate.
They had left it miraculously untouched. And, she knew why. It was a huge plantation house. It would make the perfect place to hole up, if it came down to it. And she knew also, that eventually, it would serve that purpose.
But for now, the Green Dragoons, were their sole protection from the pest-like Rebel Army. And the sadistically charming and handsome, Colonel Tavington was their saviour.
She laughed coldly at that thought.
Mona knew the stories that surrounded him. Knew what they called him. And knew with a clarity born of many years of being in her father's house, that when stories such as that, made their way halfway around the countryside...well, they must certainly be true.
The Butcher.
Again, she laughed coldly.
Killer of Rebels, innocent or not, and thorn in her father's side. Yes, Colonel Tavington was their saviour...a Killer Saviour.
One needed to kill in order to save. Isn't that how God went about it? Yes, that was exactly it. Be killed...in order to save. But that wasn't how Tavington operated.
No, he KILLED others, in order to save what he believed was worthy enough to save.
He was their Killer Saviour. And, as far as she was concerned...he was welcome here, no matter how much the servants and slaves balked at his presence.
He was welcome.
And now, as she had listened from her vantage point, he was claiming what he believed was worthy enough to claim.
Her sister.
As well as herself.
She shuddered slightly.
Tavington, in a few hours, would bed her elder sister, and if she waited long enough, and patiently, he would take her to his bed, also. Stange how things worked themselves out in time of war...how everything fell neatly into place.
When you thought, and not without good reason, that everything was most certainly lost.
No, their father had seen to it, that his daughters recieved the best protection he could offer them. In the form of Colonel William Tavington, The Butcher, and the elite Green Dragoons.
How stupid he had been, to think that they would be safe from his own legion! That Tavington would be an honourable man.
No, her father never thought beyond himself. He had simply passed off his daughters into the hands of mad man. Albeit, a charming and very handsome, mad man...
He had kissed Catherine. Despite not having seen it firsthand, she had overheard the wagging tongue of the elderly servant, as he informed the others of this fascinating situation.
Mona shivered. As if a cold breeze had crawled over her...as if...
As if.
But, there was nothing to be done now about this. Unless, of course, she put a blade in his gut...but no, no she could not do that. There was something about him, that kept her from harming him beyond just words. And she would harm him in that way...her tongue could be acid when called upon.
Just as her sister, Catherine, could be as dangerous as even one, of her father's Dragoons.
Catherine was the perfect match for Tavington in that area.
And Mona?
She was his match in another area. She could plot, scheme, arrange and carry out orders, as if they were but second nature to her.
And they were.
The ground back behind the plantation house was proof of that. The bodies buried beneath it, again, proof of what both Cornwallis sisters could do.
When she had encountered Colonel Tavington earlier in the day, she had wanted to boast of this. had wanted to inform him, that they did not need him, or the Dragoons. They could protect themselves.
But, she had reacted with cold indifference to him. Had put herself far above him, and had kept him at a safe, but still close enough, distance. She could keep him there...could watch him.
Want him.
Need him.
Desire him.
And he would never know this.
Let him play with Catherine for awhile. Let him take her as often as he wished, Mona would wait. She was very good at waiting.
And when that wait was over...
Tavington...
Mad Man.
Butcher.
Charming, handsome snake that he was.
And when it was over...
He would not know what hit him.
