William Tavington and his dragoons finally arrived at Charlotte's plantation early that evening, without further incident, much to Tavington's relief. He was glad to get his new wife safely to their home, but he'd still not feel entirely comfortable until he'd escorted her to Fort Carolina, a couple of days hence,
As Tavington was helping Charlotte down from her horse in front of the house, two house slaves came out onto the porch, a dignified looking man in late middle age along with his wife, who was the cook. Some field hands had also emerged from their cabins in curiosity when they'd heard the thundering sound of the approaching dragoons.
"Missus Charlotte!" the male servant greeted, surprised to see the plantation mistress arriving home with a troop of British dragoons. "We all thought you were staying in Charles Town!"
"A bit of a change in plans, Rufus," Charlotte said, laughing. Turning to Tavington, who had taken her hand as they climbed the porch stairs, she said, "This is my new husband, Colonel William Tavington. We've only just been married."
Rufus exchanged a stunned look with his wife, but did not otherwise comment, as all the slaves had expected that she would eventually marry her widowed brother-in-law, Benjamin Martin. His wife, however, recovered quickly from her surprise. She came forward, a big smile on her face. "Oh, Missus Charlotte!" she said. "I'm so happy for you!
"Thank you, Magnolia," she said warmly. "I'm pretty happy for myself!"
Indicating both slaves with a slight gesture, Charlotte said, "William, this is Rufus, my major domo, and this is Magnolia, my cook, who is also in charge of the housekeeping staff. Rufus was also my late husband's manservant, but I believe I'll assign Rufus' son, Lucius, to be your manservant."
After nodding perfunctorily to each servant in turn, Tavington followed his bride into the large spacious home. Wilkins and Bordon had remained outside with the men for now, supervising the set-up of camp.
As he walked from one well-appointed room to another, Tavington's smile grew wider; James Wilkins had not exaggerated when he'd described how well-off Charlotte was. He looked forward to the end of the war, when he could reap the profits this plantation could garner for him. Still smiling, he thought he'd done very well for himself, indeed. An attractive, loving wife who brought equally attractive financial assets into a marriage; what more could a man want?
"And this will be our bedroom," Charlotte said, as she concluded the tour of the house, purposely saving it for last. She turned to her husband with a seductive smile and said, "I can't wait to try it out later tonight."
"Why wait?" Tavington murmured and he took her into his arms to give her an unhurried kiss. "No time like the present, I always say." He briefly broke away from his wife to firmly shut the bedroom door behind them.
"Oh, we don't have time," Charlotte protested feebly. "What if one of the Captains comes in and catches us?"
Tavington thought to himself that both men would simply envy his good fortune, but merely said, "My officers know not to barge into a room with a closed door." Kissing her neck urgently as he began raising her petticoats, he murmured, "And this one won't take long, but will only be a quick foretaste of what is to come later tonight. Forgive me, my dear, but I've been wanting you all day long and I cannot wait any longer."
Charlotte shivered in anticipation as she felt the cool air hit her legs. She was just as desirous of William as he was of her, her misgivings about discovery forgotten.
"Lean against the windowsill," Tavington instructed her. "This is going to be a quick one."
Charlotte obeyed, leaning over to brace both hands on opposite sides of the windowsill. She looked out at the dragoons pitching tents at various places on her grounds, as William finished lifting her skirts and getting into position behind her.
She heard the rustle of her husband unbuttoning his breeches, then pushing them down far enough to free his erection from its cloth confinement. Within seconds she felt his warm breath on her neck along with one arm around her waist, the other caressing between her legs.
Tavington found that his new wife was already aroused, so he eased forward, only giving perfunctory attention to the preliminaries. He entered her smoothly, pausing for a moment as she sighed in pleasure to be filled.
After a moment, he began moving, slowly at first, then with increasing vigour, knowing that they only had a few minutes before the two Captains would come looking for him.
"Oh, William, you're so delightfully decadent," Charlotte moaned in pleasure as he continued to pound into her rapidly
"I aim to please," he growled into her ear as he rushed toward his climax. Within seconds, he came with a satisfied grunt.
No sooner than Tavington pulled out of her than they heard the sound of boots pounding on the stairs, followed a moment later by a knock on the door. "Colonel!" Bordon called. "Are you in there?"
"I timed that one just right," Tavington murmured to Charlotte, raising an eyebrow, as he tucked himself back into his breeches.
"Two minutes sooner and he'd have heard us!" Charlotte hissed in mock embarrassment as she straightened her petticoats.
"Just a moment, Bordon!" Tavington called out through the door. Turning back to Charlotte, he gave her a kiss, then said in a low voice, "We'll continue this later tonight, I promise."
"I look forward to it," she said with a not-so-demure smile.
Tavington reluctantly broke away from her to open the door for Bordon. "What is it, Bordon?" he demanded impatiently.
Bordon began to walk into the room until he noticed the flushed faces of both his commander and his new bride and realized the reason for the closed door. He flushed, embarrassed as to have barged into this intimate moment between the newlyweds, while simultaneously wondering why couldn't they have waited until bedtime.
"Uh, ah, err," he stammered awkwardly, as he backed out of the room.
Tavington sighed at Bordon's obvious discomfiture as he followed him out of the bedroom, giving Charlotte one last, longing gaze as he did so. "Spit it out, Bordon," he finally said, once he'd closed the door and the two men stood alone in the hallway.
"It was nothing important, sir," the Captain said lamely. "I merely wanted to report that the men have set up camp and I've taken the liberty of having several sentries posted around the property."
"Excellent," Tavington replied as they made their way down the stairs. "Send a detachment out the reconnoiter the surrounding area for any rebel activity and also to find forage for the horses."
"Right away, sir," Bordon said, hurrying out of the house.
Some time later, Tavington and Charlotte were sitting around the dinner table with Bordon and Wilkins eating a late dinner.
"I must compliment your cook," Tavington said after finishing his meal. "The food is excellent."
"I'm sure Magnolia will be quite pleased to hear your praise," Charlotte said, giving him a warm smile. "She takes great pride in her cooking."
"I must agree,' Wilkins said to Tavington. "Before the war, I was always glad to accept an invitation to dine with the Seltons, knowing I'd get a good meal."
"So, you came just for the food, then?" Charlotte teased her old friend.
"Of course not," he quickly amended. "But it definitely made me accept your invitations much more quickly."
Leaning back in his chair to look at Wilkins as a young maid served after dinner drinks, Tavington said, "So, when was the last time you were able to visit your home, Captain Wilkins?"
"It's been a few months," the tall dragoon replied.
"What do you know of the loyalties of those living in this area?" Tavington asked, as he sipped the wine he'd been served.
"Well, I'd say that a good many of the farmers here would rather just be left alone to work their farms," Wilkins began slowly. "But, if made to choose, I'd say most of them would likely be rebels. There are a few that are loyal, such as myself, but I believe we're the minority."
"It would seem as if we have our work ahead of us, then," Tavington replied.
Two days later, shortly before dawn, a muffled knock sounded at the Tavingtons' bedroom door. As the couple had spent some time making love after retiring for the night several hours earlier, Tavington did not immediately awaken. A second knock came, this time louder, accompanied by a hushed voice.
"Colonel Tavington?" It was the young dragoon who had been posted to sentry duty on the home's front porch.
Tavington awakened this time. "What is it?" he called out groggily as he got out of bed and stumbled to the door, stopping only to hurriedly throw his banyan on over his naked body.
"I'm sorry to wake you, sir, but there's a messenger waiting downstairs to see you," the young dragoon explained. "The infantry commander from Tarleton's Legion sent him."
"All right," Tavington said. "Tell him I will come downstairs momentarily."
"Yes, sir."
Several minutes later, Tavington descended the stairs, having hastily pulled on his breeches and shirt and stuffed his feet into a pair of bedroom slippers.
As reached the foot of the stairs, he found the young courier standing at the end of the hall by the front door with the sentry in quiet conversation.
"Colonel Tavington?" The courier turned to give Tavington his full attention.
"Yes," the dragoon commander said tersely. "What is it?"
"I'm sorry to awaken you so early, but Major Cochrane is requesting the presence of your dragoons near Wakefield right away," the young soldier explained. "Our scouts have spotted a Continental unit near there and our men are preparing to engage them. Colonel Tarleton had taken our dragoons further upcountry toward the Waxhaws two days ago, so we are currently without dragoons."
"All right, then," Tavington said. "We will be on our way as soon as possible."
"I'm to wait and guide you to where our men are waiting," the courier said.
"Yes, of course," Tavington replied. Turning to the dragoon sentry, he said, "Go wake Captains Bordon and Wilkins and have them meet me down here in ten minutes. Then go find Lt. Ogilvie and have him muster the men immediately."
"Right away, sir," the young dragoon replied.
As Tavington entered his bedroom to dress a couple of moments later, he found Charlotte sitting up in bed waiting for him.
"I'm sorry," Tavington murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"What's going on?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"
"There's a battle afoot a few miles from here," he explained. "It's Tarleton's infantry preparing to engage some Continentals. Tarleton took his dragoons upcountry a few days ago, so they're in need of dragoons."
"Oh, my," she said, obviously worried. "I do hope you'll be careful."
"Of course, my dear," Tavington said smoothly. "As a precaution, I'll be leaving Captain Wilkins and a detachment of dragoons here to protect you while I'm gone. I would imagine we'll be able to return tonight at the latest."
"I'll be praying the entire time that the battle goes well and that you return home safely to me," she said.
Leaning over to give her a kiss as he stood by the bedside, he said, "And I'll keep you in mind while I'm gone." Moving to stand by the mirror, he began to comb his hair in preparation of arranging it back into a queue. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, he added, "You might as well go back to sleep; there's no need for you to get up this early."
"Oh, I can do that after you've left," she said, as she put on a robe over her shift. Taking the comb from his hands, she said, "Let me do that. It will go quicker if I do."
"You're right," Tavington agreed, as he fastened his cravat while Charlotte combed and arranged his hair into a queue.
After he'd finished dressing and cleaning up, Charlotte said, "Let me get Magnolia to fix you something to eat on the way while you're briefing your captains. There should be some biscuits left over from last night that should take just a moment to pack."
Leaning over to kiss her again before heading to the door, he murmured, "Ah, you do spoil me. I could get quite used to this, you know."
"I'll feel better about you going into battle if I know you've had something to eat," she said. "Surely you will fight better on a full stomach."
Within a half hour, Tavington and his dragoons were on their way, moving stealthily through the countryside. By the time the first rays of the coming dawn appeared, they'd met up with Tarleton's infantry. The skirmish that ensued shortly thereafter was anticlimactic, as the British force surprised the sleeping Continentals in their camp before the sentries could sound the alarm and was over in less than a half hour
Directly after the battle Tavington took the dragoons into the surrounding countryside to mop up and to round up stragglers, leaving the infantry to deal with the dead and the wounded who were unable to leave the field.
About a mile from the battlefield, they came upon a farmhouse which apparently had been converted into a makeshift hospital. As they rode up to the house, Tavington noted that there were several wounded soldiers on the house's porch, both British and Continental. Two men, several children, and a couple of slaves were tending to the men. Tavington's instincts told him that there was something more going on there than simply medical care, so he ordered a few dragoons to search the house and outbuildings.
His suspicions soon proved to be correct. After a few moments of questioning the decidedly nervous farmer, one of the dragoons came out of the house with a case that contained a handful of rebel dispatches.
Tavington noticed the two men from the farm exchanging uneasy glances as he took the leather case from the dragoon and began riffling through the papers within. Finding letters from General Gates to Thomas Sumter and Francis Marion that included future battle plans, Tavington knew he'd intercepted a spy, fortunately before the dispatches could be delivered. He knew that the Lord General would be quite pleased with the papers, which he intended to turn over to Cornwallis at the earliest opportunity. But first, he had to ferret out the spy amongst them.
Looking up from the papers to the group on the porch, he demanded, "Who carried these?"
Dead silence greeted his question. If it had been night, Tavington was sure he'd have been able to hear crickets chirping in the utter quiet.
Now thoroughly put out, Tavington raised his voice. "WHO CARRIED THESE?"
The younger of the two men reached down to slip on a discarded blue Continental regimental coat. "I did, sir," the blond headed man said, stepping forward nervously.
"Gabriel, don't," the older man warned in a low tone.
"It's all right, Father," Gabriel said. He knew he had to step forward to protect his family.
"Oh, he's your son," Tavington said, rolling his eyes. "I see now." Having made a decision, he made an announcement to the group., "Those who harbour enemies of the King will lose their homes."
Turning to Lt. Ogilvie, he ordered, "Fire the house and barn. If there's a wagon, take it and any horses you find to transport our wounded. If there's any room left in the wagon, take Continental wounded, but only the ones who are likely to survive. Put the dying ones out of their misery."
"Yes, sir."
Turning to a group of about twenty British infantry soldiers who had recently straggled into the yard, he addressed their leader as he pointed to Gabriel. "Bind this man and take him to Fort Carolina to be hanged as a spy."
"You can't hold him as a spy!" the farmer protested feebly. "He was carrying a marked case and according to the rules of war ---"
Tavington cut him off with a smirking laugh. "We're not going to hold him, we're going to hang him!" Easing his pistol out of its holster, he pointed it first at the man, then at the children on the porch. "Perhaps you or your children need a lesson in the rules of war?"
The farmer immediately backed down. "No lesson will be necessary," he said miserably.
One of the older children, a teenage boy, who was standing in the yard near a tree watched this exchange with increasing agitation. If his father didn't do something quickly, his brother was going to die.
"Father, do something!" he said urgently.
"Quiet!" the older man hissed, desperately hoping Thomas would keep his mouth shut.
However, the teenage boy couldn't stand by and watch his brother being led to his death. If his father wasn't going to do anything to stop it, then he would. As he frantically tried to think of what he could do to help his brother, his eyes fell on a nearby dragoon, whose holstered pistol was in plain view.
Acting instinctively, he ran up and grabbed the pistol, hoping it was loaded. Thomas rushed toward the two infantrymen who had bound Gabriel's hands and were about to lead him away.
He fired at one of the soldiers, but the shot went wild, with the bullet thunking harmlessly into a tree.
William Tavington, also acted instinctively after seeing the teenage boy rushing forward with the weapon. He drew his own pistol, with his shot coming a split second after Thomas' shot. The dragoon, however, did not miss, with the shot hitting the teenager squarely in the back.
Thomas had nearly reached Gabriel when the shot hit him. Gabriel saw his brother's eyes widen in shock before he fell, mortally wounded. He was unable to go to his brother's aid, as the two infantrymen held him in place. Instead, he watched in disbelieving horror as his father went to his fallen brother's side.
Tavington sighed loudly and rolled his eyes as the farmer turned his face up to him with sheer loathing after the boy had died in his arms. It was regrettable that he had to kill the youth, but it had to be done in order to maintain control of the situation.
Sneering down at the man, he hissed, "Stupid boy," then spurred his horse as he turned to leave the yard.
As he left the yard, followed by his aides, accompanied by the hiss and crackle of flames consuming the farmhouse, he did not hear the farmer's plaintive words: "Was that necessary? He was just a boy."
A short time later, as the dragoons headed back to the plantation, Tavington put the incident out of his mind. He looked forward to a hot meal and his wife's welcoming arms, and urged his horse on.
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Author's note: A "banyan" was the 18th century version of a man's bathrobe. Banyans were also worn over a shirt and breeches for casual wear.
Next chapter: Meanwhile, Back At The Plantation.