Chapter 6 Grief and Confusion

The days following Melanie's discovery of her family's deaths were a blur as grief possessed her and ran its natural course. She was listless and stayed in bed most of the time, crying and not speaking much to anyone. There were moments when her mind would roar and rebel in confusion, wondering about her family's last moments as they lay dying and how something like this could have happened. Other times, her soul ached for the loved ones she missed so much and would never see again. Sometimes she felt overwhelmed when she thought about what to do next with her life and how to go on without them. Other moments her mind was completely blank and her soul empty.

The officers, her doctor, and Miss Kilpatrick worried about the poor girl. They knew that the grief could set back her recovery, and they fretted that a loss of the will to live would do even more harm. So they kept working with her to at least keep her on a steady road to recovery while she grieved.

Turns were taken by the officers and Bridgett in helping her walk and regain her strength. She had to be prodded by them to get out of bed for just a few moments for exercise. Melanie didn't talk about the tragedy as she walked with aid; she just did as they wished, barely going through the motions, usually saying nothing. The girl had lost her appetite as well and ate hardly anything.

For Miss Prescott, her world had changed forever. She despaired in her loneliness and the walls of grief pressed in on her. Melanie no longer cared about anything, especially herself.

Major Bordon entered Miss Prescott's room to find her laying in bed staring blindly at the wall as Bridgett Kilpatrick sewed quietly. He set the bowl of soup down on the small table and turned to the servant.

"Miss Kilpatrick," he began, "Would you please leave for a few moments? I must speak with her alone."

She looked up from her sewing with a distrustful look. The servant had wished that the officers would leave the poor girl alone to grieve in peace. She was hesitant to leave her ward's side.

Bridgett frowned as she rose from her chair. "Major, try not to upset her more than she already is."

Bordon's eyes narrowed at the lady. He loathed the idea of an indentured servant telling him what to do. "Miss, I don't believe I can do or say anything that will surpass the fact that her family was slaughtered. Now leave us!" His tone was irritated and short.

Miss Kilpatrick picked up her sewing and left, not wishing to tangle with the officer. As she shut the door on her way out, Bordon picked up the bowl of soup and stepped closer to the bed. He placed the broth on the nightstand and sat down in the chair.

Melanie had been so wrapped up in her emptiness that she did not notice the officer. She continued to stare blankly ahead.

Alex studied the girl for a moment. To him, she was pretty even in the midst of grief. There was something about her forlorn look and demeanor that made her appealing, as if he wanted to protect her from something. Momentarily, his mind drifted as he wished she would cling to him, wanting to feel her body in his arms as she cried. He wanted to comfort her.

Her hair was in her face. Alex could not resist brushing the blonde, lifeless locks back away from it. After he did, he then slowly stroked her head and tussled hair, hoping to bring her out of her stupor.

"Miss Prescott," he spoke softly, "I have brought you some soup."

"I'm not hungry," she replied with a weak voice.

"You need to eat," urged Alex. "You must keep your strength up if you are to recover fully from this."

"I don't care," Melanie said, her voice trembling, "Recovery makes no difference to me anymore. I've nothing to live for."

"Nonsense," Bordon challenged. "You are young yet and still have your whole life ahead of you."

"You've not lost your entire family," stated Melanie. "You have no idea how I feel."

"True, I haven't lost my family, but I have known sorrow and grief," Bordon assured. He was starting to get irritated with her. This is war time, damn it! It is a time of death and sadness and everyone loses someone!

"Go away," said Melanie. She just wanted to close her eyes and fall into a merciful and dreamless sleep.

"Is there anything I can do for you," Bordon asked, keeping his irritation in check. He felt badly for her, and he understood that grief takes time, but he thought she wasn't doing enough to help herself through the process.

"No, not now," answered Melanie in a cold and faraway voice. "You should have left me there to die with them."

"Yes, well, if we' d have known that was what you wanted, we would have left you there to rot!," Bordon snapped back smartly. "But you're here now at the fort under our protection, so don't make us feel that our rescue efforts were all in vain. Humor us a little and try to get better, Miss Prescott!"

Tears began to sting at Melanie's eyes. She could not believe he'd just made that remark. Her heart was hurting enough already; she didn't need some officer making presumptions about her grief and how she dealt with it.

"Leave me alone!" she said as a tear rolled down the side of her face and disappeared into the hair upon her pillow.

"As you wish." Major Bordon got up and pulled the chair back away from the bed. He said nothing more to the ailing girl as he left the room. This southern campaign seemed to leave Alex without much patience these days.

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Melanie's feet seemed to carry her effortlessly across the dew covered grass on the Prescott plantation. The farm, though quiet like this early in the morning, seemed unusually still now. Instead of the peaceful calm that Melanie loved most about her home, an oppressive silence hung over the place like the grey mist that lingered just above the ground.

As she made her way through the fog, it lifted to reveal the estate and grounds to her. She looked about quietly, curious as to where everyone was and what tasks they undertook that kept them so silent.

Then, she saw her father. "Oh, my God!," she screamed. "Father, NO!" Melanie ran to where he lay awkwardly on the porch, and partially lodged in the door. She pulled his lifeless body into her arms as he bled and held him. "Father!" He did not respond.

Tears rolled down her face as sobs wrenched her gut. The girl laid her father back down and turned away from him. It was then that she saw her brother, the Priest, sprawled on the sidewalk.

Miss Prescott trod to where the young man lay. "Matthew?"

She knelt down and shook him, softly at first, then harder. Just after Melanie turned him over, she gasped at the sight of the side of his head, which had been obliterated by a bullet.

Feeling sick to her stomach, the sorrow she felt over ruled her and made her bawl even harder.

After a moment, fear gripped her, so she pulled herself to her feet. The girl looked about the lawn for her mother, her vision blurred by her tears.

"Mother," she called. "Mother? Where are you? Answer me, Mother!"

Knowing that she'd have to be strong and comfort the woman, Melanie stumbled into the house to look for her. Inwardly, the young lady desperately and selfishly wanted the security and comfort of her Mother's arms more than feeling the obligation to console the older woman.

Once inside her home, Miss Prescott saw the ghastly site of her Mother's body, lying still in a pool of her own blood. Melanie stepped over to where she lay and fell to her knees.

"Oh, no! MOTHER!", she shrieked. "No! God, NO! Not Mother, too!"

The young woman wrapped her arms about her dead mother's body and pulled her against her own. Melanie pressed her forehead to her mother's, weeping uncontrollably for the woman as she held her.

After lovingly placing her back on the floor, a tearful Melanie sat back on her knees, covering her face with her hands and crying into them. A moment later, she hugged her body with her own crossed arms, staring blankly ahead as she rocked absently back and forth.

Then in a flash, she remembered the little ones. "Jonathon? Josie?" she called out as she rose to her feet. Melanie was very worried about them. She had to find and protect them.

"If you're hiding, it's alright! You can come out! We're safe now!" There was only silence.

Miss Prescott went out the back door of the house, continuing her search. She ran up the road, shouting for them, her voice piercing the eerie stillness of the countryside. "Jonathon! Josie! Where are you!", she cried frantically.

She kept on running, unsure of where she was going to. Suddenly, Melanie stumbled and fell. As she rolled over to get up, her eyes widened to see that she had tripped over the bodies of her youngest brother and sister. A horrid yell tore from her throat. Tears flooded her eyes as she touched each of their small forms.

Poor Miss Prescott curled her body into a ball on the grass. She held her aching middle, hurting and sickly from the powerful sobs, and cried pitifully at the devastating loss of her entire family. It was then that she realized that she was all alone, and she became very afraid.

Then, Melanie whimpered as she felt her body yanked up off the ground. She screamed horribly as she felt a knife pierce her side, sending sickening, burning waves of pain throughout her body.

It was the middle of the night when Colonel Tavington slipped into his room where Miss Prescott lay sleeping. He had just returned from leading a patrol. He looked at the poor girl, still not well from her injuries of weeks before, and now, to compound the situation, having grief to work through. He sighed and shook his head quietly.

After a few moments, William looked up from his writing when he heard her stir. She muttered something incoherent. He smiled at her as she talked in her sleep. Will looked back down at his papers and read what he had just written. As he thought about what next to write, he heard the sleeping girl again.

At first, she groaned as if resisting something. Then, she began to whimper. After a moment of this, Miss Prescott started moving her arms and writhing in the bed. She gasped and cried terribly. Suddenly, her incoherent mutterings became clear as she cried out.

"Mother...Oh, God no!"

As she sobbed in her sleep even harder, a concerned Tavington rose from his desk and moved to her bedside. Melanie kept thrashing about all the while.

"Father!"

The Colonel reached the bed and saw that Miss Prescott's cheeks were wet with tears. He knew she was having a nightmare about her ordeal at the plantation.

"Mother!" she called out again. Now the girl wept even harder.

William sat down on the bed and gently grasped her shoulders. He shook her ever so lightly, enough to try to rouse her, but not enough to startle her.

"Shhhhhh...wake up. It's alright," he coaxed quietly. "It's only a dream. Shhhhhh."

After another gentle shake, Melanie jerked herself awake and sat straight up. She was whimpering a little still and panting. Disoriented, the young lady looked about the room first, then at Colonel Tavington.

The officer looked into her eyes, wanting to assure her. Knowing that she was frightened and confused, he spoke to her.

"It's alright, now," he soothed. "It was just a bad dream. You're safe."

Melanie quieted a bit, looked around the room again, then at William. She looked as if she was still trying to free herself from the bonds of a nightmarish sleep. Soon, her face cleared of its confusion as she recalled where she was, and that her family was dead.

Will stayed silent as she grasped for her bearings again. After that, he thought, he could talk with her or ask questions, if need be.

She said nothing as she continued to look about and tremble. Then, with no warning, her face contorted in anguish and she burst into tears. Lost and wanting comfort, she leaned forward slightly and buried her face in Tavington's shoulder.

The Colonel put his arms about her and held her as she wept. Although it was innocent and a gesture of comfort, he liked the feeling of her body against his. He quickly brushed that selfish thought out of his head, feeling that he was there to console her only.

The officer said nothing as he did. He felt badly for her, unable to imagine the depth of her sorrow, and hoping never to have to experience it on that level himself. His strong arms could not still her body as it shook against his, wracked with sobs.

"Why?" she sobbed. "Why me?"

William continued to keep silent, just letting her weep. Her tears flowed unabashed for yet another moment.

Then, as her crying slowed a bit, Melanie pulled in deep breaths as she still trembled slightly. Her throat hurt from all the weeping, and her eyes burned from the tears. Melanie's abdomen ached from the deep sobs that had wrenched her body only a minute before. The feeling of her mind and sorrow blending together, blurring distinction for a moment, made her head ache. The girl was exhausted.

As her sobs eased even more, she pulled back from Will's comforting embrace. Still sniffling, she laid back down in the bed and turned on to her stomach. She buried her face in the pillow for the moment.

Tavington listened to her muffled sobs as he looked down at her. He stroked her tussled blonde hair with his hand in a manner of comfort.

He laid his hand lightly on her back and rubbed it gently. He remembered his mother doing this for him when he was a child, and how much comfort it brought him as a little boy.

As she still lay on her front, Melanie turned her head to the side on her pillow, crying more softly now. William could tell that she was tired. He himself knew that nightmares could wear one out.

As her cries finally diminished, he watched her lay still for a moment. When she had been quiet another minute, he saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing had deepened and evened out. Will hoped that this would be a restful and merciful sleep.

Colonel Tavington pulled the covers up about her and padded quietly back over to his desk. He sat down and gazed at her sleeping form another moment before returning to his work. He wanted to stay there a while longer, in case she should wake up again in the throes of that same nightmare.

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"I am a virgin, William," she whispered. "I saved myself for you. I love you."

William sat on the edge of the bed in awe of the naked beauty in front of him. He was so taken aback that he could only stare silently at Melanie. Her body was so curvy and beautiful, and she stood in his room now smiling demurely at him. Will's heart and soul warmed inwardly that she had kept herself pure just for him.

Looking back at her, desire deepened the hue of his eyes to a dark blue. Tavington stretched his arm out to where Melanie stood before him and offered his hand. She took it and he pulled her to him at the side of the bed.

He ran his fingertips up the sides of her body, then caressed her soft behind. His lips nuzzled her breasts, then Will's hungry mouth drew in one of her nipples to taste its sweetness. Melanie's head dropped backward with her long blonde tresses cascading down her bare back. She gasped at the feeling of his lips and tongue on her chest.

After another moment, Will pulled her down onto the bed with him and rolled her over beneath him in one swift move. His mouth took hers in a deep kiss. She responded back, relaxing under his touch and opening her lips to accept his tongue.

Tavington's warm mouth outlined her jaw with soft kisses, slowly making its way to her ear. He nibbled it causing her to coo and sigh. Then, his lips traced an invisible line to her neck, which he nuzzled gently, covering it with light kisses.

"Oh... William...please...now," she urged in a voice overtaken by passion. "I want you now."

The officer complied and parted her legs with his own. He positioned himself between them then guided his stiff manhood to the wetness awaiting him. Will paused there for a moment to search her eyes. He saw love, desire, and trust there, all for him.

His lips met hers again in a passionate kiss. Melanie's fingers found their way up his body and snaked into his long, dark hair.

Her lips parted from his to look up at him and into his smoldering azure eyes. Her eyes begged for him.

"Will, please. Now," she pleaded.

William obeyed and entered her carefully. He watched her face cautiously as he did. Melanie closed her eyes and gasped as she felt the gentle invasion of her womanly virtue.

"Slowly, William," she beseeched. "Slowly."

As William eased himself in deeper, his hardness met a point of resistance. He looked into her eyes wordlessly showing her his love, then silently apologizing to her for the discomfort she would soon be feeling. Melanie smiled prettily back up at him, quietly forgiving him, knowing he had to do it.

With an insistent push, he broke through her virgin sheath and slid deeply into where no other man had ever been. Melanie groaned aloud as he destroyed the fragile shield and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Resting within her for a moment, William luxuriated in the feeling of her wet warmth and the taut, smooth walls which held his member firmly inside her. He caressed her breast with his right hand, then pinched and rolled the nipple.

When he felt her start to relax and her breathing slow and deepen, he eased himself up onto his forearms and elbows. Will then began to move himself within her.

As William's lips nuzzled her neck again, Melanie wrapped her arms about his body and held him close.

"Gently," she murmured in his ear.

The calm of the darkness in Will's room was soon filled with their lover's moans and gasps. Melanie sighed and cooed, arching her back against the bed and into him as a relaxing warmth saturated her body and being.

William continued to coax her with gentle, steady strokes deep inside her, feeling as though he was bringing Melanie close to her pleasure. Their eager mouths soon found one another's again, lips and tongues clasping the other's furiously and deeply.

After another moment, Will quickened his pace, panting as he did. Soon, he felt Melanie's womanhood tighten around his erection and her body become rigid. Her breathing was labored and she clung tightly to his body. In a heartbeat, she came, crying his name as she did.

"William! Oh...ah...mmmm...William!"

He could hold back no longer as he felt her tight, virgin walls squeeze his hardness and heard her cries of passion for him. Will let loose inside her, releasing his seed within as he called her name.

"Melanie! Oh God!"

Colonel Tavington's body jerked violently, waking him up from his beautiful reverie. He sat up from a dream that had been so real, only to find himself alone in his bed—and aroused.

A frustrated and panting Will laid back down on his bed. Tavington closed his eyes again, thinking about the vivid dream he'd just had; seeing and feeling Miss Prescott's body below his in his bed. Needing release, he put his hand on his stiff and aching member and tightened his fist around it. As he moved up and down the length of it urgently, William quickly coaxed himself to the edge of frenzy. Instantly, he came with force as his seed flowed onto his belly.

William relaxed on his back for a moment until his breathing and body calmed. Then, he reached for his handkerchief on the nightstand and wiped his abdomen clean.

Rolling over onto his side, Will pulled the covers back up around him and relaxed into his pillow. His mind raced as he tried to fall asleep.

Tavington admitted to himself that he was attracted to Miss Prescott. He thought her very pretty, and liked her even though he had not spent much time with her outside of helping her during her recovery. But, he knew he could not act on his desire.

Admonishing himself for his infatuation with her, he used logic to try to cool his developing feelings for her. Remembering his duty as an officer, he knew that he could not act on his emotions. It was against decorum to have relations with her.

The Colonel knew that many of his own Dragoons did not conform to propriety. He was aware of instances where his men took advantage of female prisoners they had captured, or even wards under their protection. Tavington, and Bordon for that matter, often turned a blind eye to the activity, as long as it was kept discreet and did not get out of hand. Yet, William held himself above this behavior knowing it could cost him his commission. He had worked too long and hard, and would not risk it for a ward of the British. If he needed sexual pleasure, there were plenty of whores, camp followers, British and Loyalist women who were attracted to him and his bed.

So, at least for the moment, William would not act on his feelings for Miss Prescott. It was probably just a passing fancy, anyway. But, maybe if they could put an end to this war soon, he conceded that he might pursue her then.