Nearly two weeks later, Tavington had yet to find enough suitable dragoon candidates. In that time, he'd found fewer than a dozen men whom he'd deemed acceptable. The group he'd interviewed this morning had been the worst of the lot; none having the faintest clue about cavalry warfare. Because George Hanger had arrived the night before, Banastre Tarleton, had left Charles Town that morning along with his Legion, taking the best of the new recruits.

After sending the last interviewee back to headquarters with the recommendation that he be placed in an infantry unit, Tavington told Bordon to stay behind.

"Bordon, what is the problem?" Tavington asked Bordon after he'd sat down. "You've not sent me an even remotely acceptable candidate in three days."

"I'm sorry, sir," Bordon said. "But you should see the ones I've rejected!"

"That bad, hmm?" Tavington asked.

"Most of them aren't even fit to clean up after horses, let alone ride them," the junior officer said scornfully.

Both men chuckled heartily at the thought of this.

Now serious once more, Bordon continued, "But there is a problem. Nearly every time I find a promising candidate, General O'Hara steps in and takes him for the infantry."

"Pompous bastard," Tavington muttered. "Any idiot can be a good infantryman, but not just anyone can make an effective dragoon."

"I agree."

"O'Hara should be satisfied with the feeble minded farmers and let me have the good horsemen." After heaving a loud sigh, he said, "Just do the best you can, Bordon, and try to slip as many as you can past O'Hara."

"I'll do my best," Bordon replied, sighing heavily.

At that moment both men looked up to see Charlotte Selton standing in the doorway to the library.

"Excuse me for interrupting, gentlemen, but have either of you seen my maid, Molly, this morning?" she asked. "I told her to clean Colonel Tarleton's room after they left this morning, but the room is still a mess and I haven't seen her anywhere."

Tavington gave Bordon a knowing look, then cleared his throat. "She left with Colonel Tarleton this morning to join his baggage train," Tavington finally said. "I thought you would have known about it."

"No, I didn't," she replied. "She didn't say a word to me." Walking over and pouring herself a cup of tea from the pot on Tavington's desk, she continued, "She'd been in my employ for several years, starting out as an indentured servant. I let her out of her indenture two years early and then allowed her to stay on as a paid servant, and this is the gratitude she shows me!"

"Surely, you can find another servant?" Tavington asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, but it will take awhile to train a new maid," she said, "And with Mrs Powell sick, I don't have the time for that."

"It's nearly noontime," Tavington said, looking up at the clock. "Why don't we get Cook to pack us a picnic lunch and get out of here for a few hours. I think we both could use a break."

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I accept.:

"Excellent," Tavington said, returning her smile.

"Let me check on Mrs Powell before we go," she said.

"Of course."

Twenty minutes later, Charlotte and Tavington slipped out by the back terrace gate with a fully loaded picnic basket.

"Are you sure you can take the afternoon away from your duties, Colonel?" Charlotte asked as they walked slowly down the street.

"Bordon can handle it for one afternoon, Mrs Selton," he said. "It's not as if he had anyone worth my time to interview waiting for me."

"Please call me Charlotte," she said, after taking a deep breath. "I think that after two weeks of getting acquainted over our meals that we needn't be so formal any longer."

"I quite agree...Charlotte," he said, smiling. "And you must call me William." Hefting the large picnic basket from one hand to the other, he asked, "Your cook must have put enough food in here to feed all my dragoons."

Charlotte laughed merrily, her cares forgotten for the moment. "Not nearly that much, but enough for a feast for you and I."

Lifting the lid, he peered inside. "Hmm, what do we have in here?"

"There's a chicken she'd planned to serve us this evening, plus some bread, cheese, and a bit of fruit," she said. "And a couple of bottles of wine. Also, a linen sheet to spread on the ground to sit on."

"Sounds delicious," he said. "Where would you like to eat?"

"There's a small park with a beautiful flower garden down near the harbour," she said. "It's not far from here."

"Do you hear that?" Charlotte asked, nearly twenty minutes later as they approached the entrance to the park.

"What?" Tavington asked, listening.

"Music," she said, pointing into the park.

Following the sound, the couple came upon a small chamber group a few moments later. The musicians were set up in a small clearing, near a carefully tended flower garden.

"Why don't we sit here to eat?" she suggested.

"All right," Tavington said as he spread the linen down on the grass for Charlotte to sit on.

Charlotte sat down and began unloading the basket as soon as Tavington had put it down between them.

"I must compliment the cook," Tavington said a short time later. "The food is quite enjoyable." Looking into Charlotte 's eyes, he took her hand. "But not nearly an enjoyable as the company."

Charlotte did not immediately reply, but looked away, her face crimson. "The pleasure is all mine." After an awkward moment, she said, "The music is delightful. Handel, if I'm not mistaken."

"I really could not say," Tavington said. "My musical knowledge is rather limited, I'm afraid."

"Handel was my sister's favourite composer," Charlotte said. "But I'm afraid I don't know enough about him myself to identify this particular piece."

"No matter," Tavington said smoothly. "We don't need to know the name of it to enjoy it."

For the next few minutes, they sat in companionable silence as they ate and listened to the music.

"Shall we walk awhile along the harbour?" he asked after they had finished eating. "We've got a little while before we need to go back."

"I'd like that," she said as she finished packing up the picnic basket.

A few moments later, they were strolling along a path in the park that overlooked the harbour. A wrought iron picket fence paralleled the path on the harbour side.

"Such beautiful ships," Charlotte said, sighing, as she stopped to get a closer look at a ship just arriving. "They look as if they could almost fly away."

"Looks can be deceiving," Tavington said. "In reality, most ships are cramped and malodorous." With a rueful smile, he continued, "I'm afraid I'm not a very good sailor."

"Just as well you're a soldier, then" Charlotte said, returning his smile."

"Quite." Leaning against the fence, Tavington asked, "Have you never been to sea, Charlotte ?"

"Never," she replied. "My father used to travel to England on business occasionally, but he always went alone. Mother was never in good health, you see."

"I see." Still smiling, he said, "You haven't missed much, I can assure you. But it's too bad you've never been to England. It's a beautiful place."

"I would like to see England," she said sincerely. "Perhaps I will one day, when this war is finally behind us."

Heat lightning flashed in the distance as the couple continued to survey the ships in the harbour. Tavington looked up at the sky, which had turned an ominous, leaden shade. Charcoal coloured thunderheads were gathering even as he surveyed the horizon.

"It's going to rain, I'm afraid," Tavington said, as a low rumble of distant thunder sounded as if to emphasize his words. "We'd best head back."

Charlotte nodded reluctantly in agreement. "I've had a wonderful afternoon."

"As have I," Tavington replied as they headed to the park's exit.

As the couple walked quickly through the streets back to Charlotte 's home, the thunder grew louder and the lightning more frequent.

"I don't think we're going to make it," Charlotte said when they were still about a block from the house. Large, swollen drops of rain had begun plopping down as they stepped up their pace. Within seconds, it had quickly turned into a downpour.

At that moment, they were passing by an open gate at the back of an estate. Looking inside, Tavington spotted a tool shed not far from the entrance. "Hurry!," he said pulling her inside the gate. "We can take shelter in there until the rain stops. It shouldn't be more than a quick downpour."

--------

Thanks to those who have thus far read and reviewed. I hope you'll stick with me for the rest of this story

Next chapter: New Love and Old Friends