Several days later, Charlotte Tavington was slowly adjusting to life in a busy Army fort. Having lived alone for the last several years, she was unused to living among so many people, but she was handling the change much better than she thought she would.
She and William had eaten dinner with General Cornwallis on the evening they'd arrived, as Lord General had kindly invited them to dine when he'd heard that William had brought her along to the fort. Cornwallis had proven to be a gracious and attentive host, regaling her with tales about his recently deceased wife, Jemima, and their two children. General O'Hara, Colonel Tarleton, and Captains Bordon and Wilkins had joined them, and it had proven to be a most enjoyable evening.
The evening had ended quite pleasantly, as she and William had excused themselves early and had spent the remainder of the evening "christening' their new bed and she'd fallen asleep that night entirely contented.
In the days since, Charlotte had decorated their quarters enough to make it feel like home. Once she had finished with that, she and Ruth spent hours exploring every inch of the camp to get to know their new home while William was on duty. She'd met a few wives of other officers and while they were all nice enough, there were none she had much in common with.
This morning, Charlotte had awakened to find William lying half on top of her, lifting her shift. In the short time they'd been married, she discovered that her new husband was a nearly insatiable lover. But she did not mind, as she'd spent several lonely, celibate years and now felt as if she was making up for lost time. Since being with William, she'd felt fifteen years younger.
They'd made love, quickly and wordlessly, as Tavington had to report for duty within a short time.
As he reached completion and rolled off her, he murmured, "I can't think of a better way to start my day than to take you into my arms. After lying with you, I can even face General O"Hara with a smile."
Charlotte laughed softly, knowing how much William detested the man.
"I hate to leave you, my dear, as there's nothing more I'd like to do than lie in bed with you all day long," he told her a few minutes later as he stood at the mirror braiding his hair. "But duty calls, I'm afraid."
"You're going to be at the fort all day today, correct" she asked.
"Yes, I expect so," he replied. "I must go to the infirmary to speak with a recovering soldier who may have useful information for me, and then in the afternoon, I will be conducting some training exercises with the men."
"Wonderful," she said happily. "I hope we'll be able eat together at noon?"
"I don't see why not," he said smiling. "We might even be able to come back up here for some private time together after lunch, as Bordon is quite capable of starting off the training exercises on his own."
Charlotte gave him a seductive grin, knowing exactly what he mean by "private time".
A little more than an hour later, after he and Charlotte had finished breakfast, Tavington headed to the fort hospital to see if the doctor would now allow him to question the sole surviving soldier from the ambush.
As he entered the hospital, he found Dr Campbell checking the soldier in question, who was now sitting up in bed, which was on the opposite side of the room.
"Dr Campbell!" Tavington called out imperiously as he strode across the room. "It would seem as if your patient is now sufficiently fit for questioning."
The veteran physician sighed as he turned to acknowledge the impatient dragoon leader. "You may speak with him for a few minutes, Colonel," he conceded grudgingly. "But he's been through a lot and still has quite a ways to go before he is fully recovered, so I don't want you to tire him out."
"This shouldn't take all that long," Tavington assured him. "I just need to ask him a few questions."
After the doctor had moved off, the dragoon pulled up a chair to the soldier's bedside. "Relax, Private…" Tavington began.
"Jones, sir," the young soldier supplied.
"Private Jones," the older man repeated. "I just need to ask you a few questions about the ambush."
"I don't remember much, sir," the ailing soldier said weakly.
"Any detail you might recall might prove useful to catch the ones who killed your fellow soldiers," Tavington prodded. "Just tell me what you do remember and try to recall what your attackers looked like and how many there were."
A few minutes later, after the infantryman had told him what he could remember, Tavington was convinced that it had to have been the farmer who had come to rescue his son himself. Tavington still did not know who had helped him, as the private had insisted that he only saw the one man. This made little sense to Tavington, especially when the man had insisted that their attacker had been "like a ghost". But at least he now had a place to start.
Getting up from the soldier's bedside, he said, "Thank you, Private Jones. Now get some rest."
There was still a good bit of time before lunch, so he decided to go find Wilkins to see if he might know the farmer's identity. He now wished he'd taken Wilkins along with him the day of the skirmish.
He found his junior officer a few minutes later, spotting the man coming from the direction of the camp followers' tents, whistling a happy tune as he neared his commanding officer. Tavington grinned to himself, correctly guessing that the Loyalist officer had just had an assignation with one of the camp doxies, if the contented look on his face was any indication. The dragoon knew that the Lord General would prefer to ban such women from the fort, but Tavington was all for anything which would improve the morale of his men, knowing this would make them more effective soldiers.
As Wilkins came within hearing distance, Tavington called out, "Captain, I need to confer with you to see if you can help me clear up a matter." After a pause, he added, "Why don't we go to my office?"
Tavington had been assigned a small closet-sized office in the main mansion the day after he'd arrived, but it would be sufficient for his needs.
"Of course, Colonel," Wilkins replied, good-naturedly. "I'll be glad to help in any way that I can." After a pause, he added, "Do you need Captain Bordon, too? I believe he's still down with the camp followers if you want me to go back and roust him out of bed with whichever doxy he spent the night with."
"That won't be necessary," Tavington said, chuckling at both his adjutants' healthy libidos. "We'll leave Captain Bordon to his pleasure, as I need to confer with you about the local residents."
A short time later, the men entered the Colonel's office, after Tavington told a passing servant to bring in a pot of tea.
"I need to ask you some questions in relation to the ambush on the infantry detachment the other day," Tavington began. "I just questioned the lone survivor and he gave me enough information that I believe that I've identified one of the assailants, who is most likely the ringleader."
"Sir?" Wilkins was baffled, considering that he'd spent the day at Charlotte's plantation.
"From what the private said, I'm guessing the attacker was the farmer from the farm we fired near the battlefield," Tavington elaborated. "We'd taken his son into custody for espionage and I'd had to kill his other son for shooting at some of the foot soldiers, so it's logical to assume that revenge was the motivation for this attack."
"I see," Wilkins said, frowning in concentration.
"I didn't get the man's name at the time, so if I describe him and his farm to you, you might know who he is," Tavington explained.
Not waiting for Wilkins' reply, Tavington continued, "I'd say the farm was about a mile from the battlefield and roughly seven miles from my wife's plantation. It was a fairly good-sized home: white clapboard with a large porch. I'd say it had perhaps four rooms upstairs and four below."
After pausing to take a deep breath, the dragoon went on, "The farmer was in his early to middle forties, colouring similar to my own, and somewhat below middle height, though taller than Colonel Tarleton. There were seven or eight children, ranging in age from about four years old to a young man of 20 or so, who was the Continental spy."
"I think I know who it was," Wilkins said slowly. "And I'm afraid you'll not like what I have to tell you at all."
"Please elaborate, Captain."
"From what you've described, I'm almost certain the man's name is Benjamin Martin," Wilkins told him. After a pause, he added quietly, "And he is Mistress Tavington's former brother-in-law."
"Are you certain?" Tavington demanded. "I heard the farmer call his oldest son 'Gabriel', and the teen boy I had to shoot was called 'Thomas'."
"I'm quite certain," Wilkins said seriously. "Those are indeed the names of two of Martin's sons."
"Damn," Tavington swore. Turning away from Wilkins for a long moment, he stood to look out the window. He did not regret what he'd had to do that day, but sincerely wished that it had not been Charlotte's family.
Suddenly turning back to the junior officer, he said, "If you will excuse me, Captain, I must find Mistress Tavington. It seems as if she and I need to have a talk."
"Yes, sir," Wilkins said, not envying his commanding officer at this particular moment.
A short time later, Tavington found his wife in the main mansion's morning room having tea with a few of the other officers' wives.
Charlotte happened to look up as he appeared in the doorway. She took tell from the expression on his face that he had something serious on his mind. Excusing herself quietly from the other women, she went to greet her husband.
"What's wrong?" she murmured as they stepped out into the hall. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon."
"Let's go back to our rooms," he said. "There's something we need to discuss."
Charlotte frowned, wondering what it was that he could not wait until the noon meal. She did not comment, but merely followed William up the stairs to their suite.
"Sit down, love," Tavington told her after he'd closed the door to their rooms. He waited until she'd settled herself on the sofa, then took a seat beside her."
Taking her hand, he began, "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you." Not waiting for her response, he continued, "I was conferring with Captain Wilkins this morning in order to gain more information about something that happened the other day after the battle. Normally I would not trouble you with such matters, but what he told me concerns you."
Heaving a gusty sigh, he said, "I don't quite know where to begin…"
"It's all right, William," she said gently. "Just take your time."
"All right, then," he replied. "It's going to be a bit of a long story, I'm afraid." Knowing there was nothing for it, he launched into his story.
"The matter I was conferring with Captain Wilkins about was a massacre that was perpetrated on a detachment of infantry soldiers to whom I'd entrusted a spy I'd captured shortly after the battle," Tavington told her. "The soldier in the infirmary whom I saw this morning was the only survivor of the massacre. I went to see him in the hope that he could give me some clues as to who attacked the soldiers,"
Charlotte did not speak, but merely waited patiently for him to continue.
"I had my suspicions as to who orchestrated the attack, and what the soldier told me only confirmed my suspicions," he went on. "You see, after the battle, when my men and I were combing the area for stragglers, we came upon a farmhouse, where wounded soldiers were being cared for."
Taking a deep breath, Tavington continued, "I sensed something wasn't right almost as soon as we rode up, as the farmer and his oldest son were quite nervous. To make a long story short, incriminating papers were found in the home and it turned out that the farmer's son was a spy. I had him taken into custody to stand trial for treason back at Fort Carolina. Before we could leave, however, the farmer's other son, started a diversion. He grabbed a pistol from one of my men and tried to kill the men who were about to lead the spy away."
Sighing again, he admitted, "I ended up having to kill the second son to regain control of the situation. It was quite unfortunate, as he wasn't quite a man yet. But it was necessary, as many others could have been hurt, including the other children, if I'd not immediately intervened."
Charlotte felt a sudden fear grip her and fervently hoped that her husband wasn't about to tell her what she thought he was going to tell her.
"I consulted Captain Wilkins because he is from this area and with the details Private Jones gave me, I thought that the captain might be able to provide me with a name." After a significant pause, he added softly, "He was indeed able to tell me who it was."
Tavington looked deeply into his wife's eyes and said, "It was your brother-in-law, Benjamin Martin. Captain Wilkins confirmed it. And it was your nephew, Thomas, whom I had to shoot."
"Oh, William!" Charlotte cried, as Tavington confirmed her worst fears. She allowed him to take her into his arms, as she cried for her nephew, whose short life had been so tragically cut short.
Tavington held her wordlessly, rubbing her back as she mourned Thomas. "Shh," he murmured. "Let it all out." Tavington did not regret the actions he'd taken on the Martin farm, but he hated to see his beloved wife in pain.
After a few minutes, Charlotte lifted her head from Tavington's shoulder to look straight into his eyes. Taking his face in her hands, she murmured, "I don't blame you, love. You had no idea who they were. I've hesitated talking about my sister's family with you because my brother-in-law had been so annoyingly persistent in trying to get me to marry him after John died. It was an embarrassment to me."
Tavington did not speak for a long moment, but merely took her lips in a gentle kiss. "It's not your fault, Charlotte," he finally told her. "You did not cause them to act in a foolhardy manner."
"You're right, William," she conceded. "Thomas always had a reckless streak to him; he was very much like his father.' After a long pause, she said, "Still, I cannot help but wonder how things might have been different if I'd discussed my sister's family with you."
"You mustn't brood about it," Tavington told her, patting her hand. "What is done, is done. We cannot change the past."
"What about Gabriel?" she asked. "What happened to him?"
"From what I can piece together, his father led the attack on the infantry detachment and he escaped then," Tavington said. "There was no sign of him when the rest of Tarleton's infantry came upon what was left of the detachment."
"What will happen now?" Charlotte asked nervously.
"Your brother-in-law and nephew are guilty of treason," he told her quietly. "It is my duty to bring them both to justice. This is why it was so important for me to question the surviving soldier and Captain Wilkins. I'm sorry that your family has made such unfortunate choices, but I cannot allow your connection with them to deter me from my duty."
"I understand," Charlotte said, putting a gentle hand on his arm. "I wouldn't expect you to do any different. But it's the children I'm worried about. Ben has always been so hot-headed -- I wonder if he even thought of his little ones when he went after Gabriel."
"War is a terrible business," Tavington agreed. "But I intend to do my duty to the utmost so I can help to end it as soon as is humanly possible."
Rising from the sofa, he took Charlotte's hand and led her to the bed. After easing her down onto the mattress, he murmured, "Let me help you to take your mind off things for awhile."
Charlotte did not answer, but simply lost herself in her husband's passionate embrace.
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Author's Note: Thanks to my readers and reviewers for sticking with this story. It keeps me writing knowing there are people waiting for new chapters.
Cornwallis lost his beloved wife, Jemima, in 1779, and was able to travel back to England to be with her in her last days before returning to be in command of the Southern Campaign.
Next chapter: On the Trail of a Fox