Chapter 39 The Breaking Point

"Hello, Miss Prescott. How are you feeling?", Colonel Tavington greeted as he entered the ailing girl's room. It was nearly two days into Mrs. Bordon's visit, and William had not heard whether or not his subaltern had been able to visit his mistress or not during the time. For some strange reason, the commander felt compelled to visit the young woman, as if in her lover's stead.

"The same," Melanie replied pushing herself up slowly and sorely into a sitting position. "Weak still."

There was quiet as the young woman took a minute to adjust her pillow. Reaching behind her seemed to hurt, and the officer could see that she was struggling. He reached over to help her get situated. When she eased and seemed to rest comfortably back, he continued on.

"Uh……I gave the major an assignment," William apologized hesitantly, feeling he had to make an excuse for his aide-de-camp. "He may be away for awhile."

The girl looked up at the ceiling and let out a heavy sigh. "You don't have to lie, colonel. I know his wife is here."

"Oh," he answered somewhat taken aback. He had assumed that Bordon and the rest of the fort was keeping it a secret from her. "How did you know?"

"Voices carry down the hallway," replied Miss Prescott in a far away voice.

"Oh….I'm sorry," Tavington stammered, again not knowing what to say.

"So am I," she agreed in a forlorn tone.

"I believe it is an unexpected visit, if that makes you feel better," remarked William hopeful that this would alleviate some of her apparent yet unspoken doubt.

"No. It doesn't," said the young woman, her voice flat and lifeless now.

"I'm sorry. I didn't wish to lie—just to shield you," apologized the colonel. "I thought it might be better if you didn't know of it during your recovery."

"I understand. Please, I don't want to talk about it," Melanie declared, fighting back tears, trying half heartedly to be stoic.

She became silent for a moment, which made the dragoon commander feel awkward. The thought of exiting now and cutting the visit short flashed across his mind.

Miss Prescott broke the silence. "Colonel Tavington, may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"A few days ago at one of the houses you raided on the Santee, there was a mother and son.," she stated, recalling in her mind the red haired woman and the small, curly headed boy with the same flame hued hair.

"Yes," Tavington recollected.

"Did you shoot them?"

"Miss Prescott, it's not appropriate to talk of dragoon bus—"

"Yes, Alex tells me that, as well", she cut him off. "You seem to forget that I was there."

"You were blindfolded," he reminded her.

"I heard everything you and your men did," Melanie pointed out. "My mind put its own pictures with the sounds."

"I'd rather not discuss this with you," Tavington stated.

The girl continued on, affirming her feelings of the situation to him. "I witnessed what you did in Pembroke. I can imagine what you did at other places."

The dragoon commander was tiring quickly of her interrogation. He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and looking intently at her. "Just what do you want to know?"

"Did you shoot that woman and her little boy?"

Colonel Tavington paused a moment before answering, wondering if he should confirm what she suspected. He took a breath, then answered her query.

"Yes. They were uncooperative."

"Oh," commented the girl, with surprisingly little emotion. The young woman shifted in the bed slightly and looked toward the window.

The officer broke the contemplative silence with a question of his own. "Why? Why did you have to know that?"

"I just needed to know if you killed them."

"Needed to know?", asked Will sarcastically. "You mean 'you wanted to know'."

"Yes—I wanted to know what happened," admitted Miss Prescott. "I'm sure they were innocent."

"They were rebels."

"No," she disagreed. "They were like me—innocent victims of this nonsense."

"They were uncooperative and withheld information," the colonel pointed out firmly. "And they most likely helped the rebels at one time or another."

"You assume," she shot back smartly.

"Pick your fights with Bordon, Miss Prescott—not me!," scolded William, his irritation with her now showing through.

The two were quiet again, both frustrated with one another. After a minute, Tavington spoke up again, hoping his answer would stifle anymore intrusive questions about dragoon procedures.

"Yes. I killed them both," he acknowledged.

"Nonsense. The shots were too close together. You couldn't have reloaded that fast," insisted Melanie. "Did Alex shoot one of them?"

"No."

"You're lying again."

"Please don't make me answer the question," insisted the officer. "You won't like it."

"Just tell me," she prodded.

William sighed, still quite irked at the girl. "Yes, Major Bordon killed one of them," Tavington confessed. "He and I raised our pistols at nearly the same time. I will not tell you which one either of us shot."

Melanie was thoughtful for a moment, not at all startled by the revelation that her lover killed a probable innocent colonist. In two years, she had witnessed the gamut of things perpetrated by dragoon officers reaching from one end of the scale to the other.

Miss Prescott spoke up again. "Colonel, when the rebels captured me, then hobbled me, there was a man in the camp who took care of me. He was a colonial minister…….from Pembroke. That must have been his church you burned down. And that must have been his congregation—"

"Must you bring things like this up?"

Melanie shot him a look of surprise, then disgust. Her mind spun, not so much astonished at the performed atrocities, but that the officer was so peevish when asked about it after no hesitation or blink of an eye at the time the gun had been raised.

The girl sighed and shook her head. "When this war is over, I hope I never, ever see another soldier for as long as I live."

Tavington had lost patience now and was tired of playing this game with the ailing girl. "Stop it! Quarrel with Bordon—it's his wife that's here! He's the one that made a whore of you, not me!"

"Oh! So you forget who took advantage of who one certain time whilst Bordon was away?," she defended. "You wasted no time getting under my skirt."

"You seduced me to get back at him! You didn't even give me a moment to refuse your advances!"

"You and Alex are just alike!," the young woman retorted, "taking advantage of any woman near you no matter what the situation is!"

"At least I had restraint enough not to make you my mistress," William shot back.

"You wanted to!"

"Yes! I did," the officer admitted.

"But Alex beat you to my bed," she reminded. "You can't stand that!"

Colonel Tavington did not answer her accusation, but instead countered with one of his own. "You've had me and Bordon. You've probably been in Tarleton's bed as well."

Melanie gasped, aghast at the sinister turn in the conversation from what began as a friendly visit. The girl suddenly felt sick and shaky, realizing that the depression and need for blame had caused her to start a fight out of spite and her own need to vent her despair.

"No," she answered his accusation in a quiet tone fraught with embarrassment. "I've only been with you and Alex….and look what it's done." With that, she dissolved into tears.

"I didn't wish to fight with you," William apologized. "I came here to sit with you. I feel badly over everything that has transpired and am sorry that you're hurt—"

She interrupted him. "I appreciate you coming to visit, but I'd rather be alone. I'm tired."

A painful moment of quiet passed between the two again, neither knowing what to say. Melanie spoke again.

"Please….just…..I wish everyone would leave me alone," she stammered. "I don't want to see anyone, least of all Alex."

"I understand," the colonel acquiesced. "But Major Bordon is very worried about you, as many others are."

"Worried……" she echoed, then added, "And gossiping, I'm sure."

"That shouldn't be anything new to you!," William remarked with no hesitation. "Why is this situation any different?"

His words caused the girl to cry harder. It hurt her to have it confirmed that there was idle talk of her tragedy.

Realizing now how bad his words sounded, he apologized right away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said—"

He was interrupted by her tearful lament. "I've lost my child! I'll never have another one and I'll never have Alex!"

"Oh, Miss….," his voice trailed off, unsure of what to say; how to comfort the poor girl.

"Please, colonel," she implored through sobs, "just leave me."

The officer nodded simply, saying nothing. He instantly left the room, leaving the girl alone in her sorrow.

**************************

Bordon and his wife had passed an uneasy couple of days together. Fortunately for Alex, the afternoon that she arrived, he had been scheduled to lead a night patrol and was out, leaving Paulette and his son the bed in his cramped quarters.

Out of concern for Melanie, he did not visit her during his wife's stay, not wanting to worry the girl during her recovery. He was also afraid that Mrs. Bordon might follow him to Miss Prescott's room and that there would be a confrontation.

This particular evening, little Henry Bordon was being entertained by some officers at the request of Paulette so that she and Alex could spend some time alone. She could tell that her husband, who hadn't said much, was clearly uncomfortable with her. The woman wanted desperately to relieve the uneasiness as they sat alone in the major's quarters.

"I've missed you. So has Henry," Paulette Bordon said tentatively.

"He doesn't even know me," Alex retorted in a curt tone.

"He would if you were around. He needs his father."

Alex dispensed with the cordial conversation and cut right to the point. "Why did you come?"

"I want you to come home," she requested.

"That's out of the question," Alex replied. "The generals would never permit me to leave during this campaign."

"Then why not allow us to move in here with you?"

"There's no room."

"But there's room for your mistress!," Paulette shot back.

Alexander said nothing back to her, not wanting to alert her of Melanie or give her any reason to go looking for his recovering concubine.

"I've heard the talk," Mrs. Bordon remarked.

"I don't have to confirm anything to you," the officer said crossly.

"Yes you do," she argued. "I'm your wife!"

"Only in name," Alex whispered to himself after he'd turned away from the woman.

She walked to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm, making him turn to look at her. "I know we did not have a good start to our marriage, but I want us to reconcile," she began. "If we try, we can make a fresh start of it. I'm begging you to reconsider. Please come home so that we can be a family."

Paulette stepped away from him, looking sadly at the floor. "Being the subject of gossip is horrible for Henry and me. It's disgraceful enough that you have taken a mistress and people know, but having to make up excuses as to why we don't reside together is embarrassing. Think of our son—"

Her pleading was met with the hardness of anger in his face. "Just stop this! We both know this marriage is in name only. I don't love you. I felt some affection for you at first that might have grown, but you ruined that when you trapped me into marriage."

"I didn't become pregnant by myself," she defended. "You shouldn't have taken me to bed."

"You shouldn't have enticed me into it! A lady wouldn't have spread her legs!"

"Alexander! You're Horrid!," she interjected, tears in her eyes.

Major Bordon grabbed her arm and pinioned her to the wall. "You knew that if you got your bellyful that I'd have to marry you. You wasted no time helping yourself to my family's name, money, and social position!"

"No! I did not plan it," Paulette affirmed. "I tried to be a good wife when we were together. You could have tried a little harder to be a husband and enjoy it."

"You destroyed my trust before we married—"

Still pinned to the wall, his wife looked up at him with pleading in her eyes. "Can't you forgive?"

"No, I don't think so," answered Alex as he let go of her. The officer gave her a menacing look as he continued on. "You see, I think of you as a whore. You used me for money and advancing the social standing of yourself and your family."

"I did love you! I still do," she insisted resolutely.

"Don't," the officer warned in disdain.

There was quiet now as each of them caught a breath after the heated exchange. Paulette was desperate to reconcile and have a normal life with her husband.

Mrs. Bordon spoke again, breaking the silence. "If you won't come home," she began tentatively, "will you at least give me another child?"

"Absolutely not. You have enough from me now as it is," answered the officer. "And I don't care to share a bed with you."

"Then I'll take a lover and have another man do the job!," she shot back, trying hard to be as cruel as he was to her back to him. She wanted to hurt him.

"That's fine," the major said, walking sinisterly toward her, scaring her enough to make her step backwards away from him. "But I won't claim it. You'll disgrace yourself and the family."

Another painful silence passed between the quarreling couple, frustration weighing heavily on each of them. After a moment more of this passed, Mrs. Bordon spoke up, changing her tone, letting his last cruel assertion pass without comment.

"Alex, please forgive me. Come home. Help me raise Henry."

Alex sighed and turned away from Paulette. She moved slowly toward him and lightly touched his shoulder. He spun instantly around to her, their faces now very close. She leaned in to kiss him sensuously, but he was cold and did not kiss back, staring blankly at her. But she did not let that deter her. His wife moved her lips along the skin of his face, grazing it lightly with kisses, then began to nibble his neck. The woman reached down and caressed his manhood through his breeches as she breathed on his skin. He grabbed her hand to stop her, partly because he had no sexual desire for her in his heart, and because he was afraid that physically, his body might betray him.

As he held her hands steady, she stared him directly in the eyes as if to let him know she was not afraid and would not give up on him. Paulette then knelt down on her knees before him, humbling herself, yet preparing to and knowing that she could weaken him and break the officer down. She was determined to get her husband into bed and make him to leave his seed within her.

Mrs. Bordon then began to undo his pants with both hands. He took hold firmly of her wrists stopping her. He looked down at her with light scorn. "Don't."

Paulette pulled her hands from his grip and looked up at her husband. She gave him her best alluring gaze. "Let me," she pleaded lustily.

She inched his britches down slightly and took his flaccid penis into her mouth. She worked it within as seductively as she could then smiled when she succeeded in bringing on an involuntary erection.

Though he felt no affection for the woman, he enjoyed the feeling of someone going down on him, and let her continue. An audible sigh escaped Alexander's lips, much to his chagrin. Although the thought of relations with her no longer aroused him, his body reacted to her ministrations out of habit, exactly what he did not want to happen.

Before he could get any further along, he stopped her then violently jerked her up off the floor. The officer then bent her forward roughly over his bed's footboard. Surprised, she gasped, then willingly raised her skirt, bearing her bottom to him.

"Yes, Alex! Please! Now!," she cried.

Her husband pushed his fingers into her, causing a pent up groan to be released. Paulette soon gripped the wood with both hands, securing himself for their imminent, and hopefully lusty coupling. As he did this, Bordon spotted his jacket, gloves, and riding crop thrown onto the bed. He stretched to reach them.

The movement of his fingers in her womanhood felt so good to her as it had been months since she'd had a man. It left her begging for him. "Alex PLEASE! I want you inside me now darling! It's been so long."

Her pleadings were answered with the sudden feeling of a sharp stinging pain across the back of her thighs when the crop met with them.

"Oh no!" she wailed in surprise as she struggled to push herself up.

As she did, his free hand pushed her back down hard against the wood, making her wince.

"Alex, please don't!" she implored.

As she protested, he raised his arm then struck her bare bottom with the crop, hard and sharp, making her jump.

"No! Stop!" cried Paulette, tears in her eyes as she was not sure now what this may be leading to.

Fortunately, this was the end of the whipping, making Mrs. Bordon ease. After a moment, she let out a breath, then begged for him again. "Please Alex! Put yourself inside of me."

With that, he turned the riding crop around, gripping the middle of it above the handle on the whip end. He pushed the rough leather handle of the crop up into her womanly wetness.

"No! No! Alex. Please!"

Her husband leaned over and whispered ominously into her ear. ""There you go. Now cry out like the whore that you are," he degraded. He moved the instrument in and out of her, making her wince.

After a moment, he withdrew the crop and let it drop to the floor. He then pushed his pants down slightly and drove himself hard into her slickened womanhood.

His wife moaned and cooed in relief to finally feel him again within her. "Oh, God Alex! That's it! Oh don't stop!"

As Major Bordon moved himself in and out of her, he closed his eyes, trying to pretend she was just some doxy from one of the tents. He started to get lost to the feeling, warmth traversing his hips as it did.

Paulette began heaving herself back against him, coaxing him on toward orgasm, needing his fertile seed to fill her up. She relished feeling his hardness inside her again and didn't want it to end.

Alex opened his eyes as he felt himself getting close to satisfaction. With utmost discipline, he stopped himself and pulled out of her.

"No, what are you doing?, "she protested, "Don't stop, Alex, please!"

With his erection still slick with her womanly lubrication, he slid himself into her anus, making the poor woman cry out. "Oh no. Alex no! It hurts!"

"But you should like it this way," he jeered as he pushed painfully into her. "This is how whores want it done to them. They want it rough!"

He continued on, with the tightness of her in that area bringing him close in only a few more strokes. "Go ahead and cry out, you whore! Say that you like it!"

She could not. All the woman could do was whimper at the invasion and bear it as best she could. Paulette closed her eyes and prayed that he would satisfy his need soon.

A few seconds later, Alexander groaned as he came. He pulled himself out, still panting, and quickly pushed his now spent manhood back down into his breeches.

Mrs. Bordon pushed her skirt down then collapsed in a heap on the floor at the officer's feet. She wept in degradation and sadness, her hopes for a happy reunion with her estranged husband severely dashed.

Major Bordon did nothing to comfort the woman. "Go home," he simply said.

As he stepped away, Paulette looked pitifully up at him. "Please don't send me home," she sobbed.

"There is a stage tomorrow afternoon," stated Bordon. "You will be on it."

*******************

With Melanie's miscarriage now a few days behind her, the midwife had advised that she could now get out of bed for short periods of time to sit or walk about her room. This afternoon she sat at her window upon the window bed, relaxing and taking in what view she could, much of it blocked by a large tree near the house.

The girl was still very weak, and feeling a little pain and cramping from her miscarriage. Mostly, she was sad and confused. She was still reeling from the revelation that she would never bear children, and from the loss of Bordon's baby. The young woman wondered if things in her life could ever be 'normal' again, and when the damned war would end.

But amidst her depression, she managed a small smile and perked up a bit when she saw Alexander appear across the courtyard below. And although she had told Bridget that she didn't want to see him, she had missed him, and hoped he would visit her soon. She sat up even straighter and her heart raced when she saw him striding across the green toward the house. Maybe he is coming to see me, she thought.

Melanie saw him stop short of the house and could see him talking to someone, but the tree obscured her view. She then saw Alex reach out, and through the foliage, she saw a pretty woman take his arm. Miss Prescott watched the scene in confusion.

Next she saw a young boy hug Major Bordon's legs as the man leaned over and kissed the top of his head. A moment later, Melanie saw Alex embrace the woman and give her a very chaste looking kiss. She surmised that this must be Paulette Bordon and became disappointed that her lover's wife was still present.

Miss Prescott continued to watch, though she knew she should just close the curtains and get back into bed. Still watching intently out the window, she saw the woman part from Alexander's side. Then suddenly the woman flew back to the officer, throwing her arms around him, kissing him passionately and hanging on to his body for a moment. She could see his wife whispering something in his ear and dabbing at tears on her cheeks.

With this, Melanie's heart sank. She looked away from the window, no longer wanting to see anymore of the scene. Her mind spun crazily with questions and assumptions. Did he lie to me of his feelings for her? No—he wouldn't have lied. Maybe they reconciled? Maybe he does really love Paulette? What if he does love her? Maybe he doesn't love me after all.

Her heart breaking, Melanie broke down in heaving sobs. This was it for the poor girl—she had reached her breaking point. The girl's mind continued to spin itself in circles. Miss Prescott had lost her beloved family and her plantation had been confiscated. She herself had nearly been killed. The rebels had captured her, flogged, humiliated and raped her. The British flaunted her and used her in their schemes. She'd fallen in love with a married man, becoming his mistress. She'd suffered a painful miscarriage and could now never conceive again. With no hope for more children, it lessened the chance of marriage with any future suitor. And now to top it all off, her lover, after making her pregnant, had abandoned her and returned to his wife.

This was too much for Melanie to bear. She continued to sob, unable to stop, feeling physically sick to her stomach. But after a few minutes more of weeping, she became exhausted and could no longer cry. She sat quietly still in the window bed looking blankly about the room, her mind numb now. Strangely, the young woman felt a cold quiet in her soul, as if she had turned to stone.

**********************

Major Bordon forced a cordial smile and wave at the carriage as he watched it take his wife and child away, done as an act for all that watched him across the courtyard. His wife's last words, which she had whispered to him while clinging to his body before leaving, rang through his mind. "Please don't make us leave. Please reconsider. I do love you, Alex," she murmured in desperation to him. He simply replied back to her softly, "No. There's no use for you to stay," causing more tears from his wife, but he was not swayed by her weeping and pleading.

As the coach disappeared through the fort gate, the officer breathed a sigh of relief. He smiled to himself as he could finally now pay Melanie a visit, and he could not wait; Alex had missed the girl terribly and needed to see for himself how she fared. As he stepped on to the porch intending to head straight to Miss Prescott's room, he was stopped by a messenger.

"General O'Hara requests your presence," the private announced.

"I was just heading to check on something," replied the major. "Can it wait?"

"No sir. He asked for you to come to his office immediately."

"Oh, bloody Hell," he swore in a low voice.

"I'm on my way," he told the private, heading now to meet with the general and disappointed that his visit to Melanie would have to wait.

************************

Miss Prescott, having been seated still on the window bed, rose unsteadily to her feet, wincing as she did. She stood still for a moment to get her bearings, feeling just a little dizzy and weak. After a few seconds had passed, the girl took a few tentative steps across her room. When the young woman arrived at her bureau, she opened a box that had been left atop it by the doctor.

The surgeon, often occupied with soldiers in the tent, could not necessarily drop what he was doing and rush to the third floor of the main house to attend to a sick, miscarried woman, so he'd left some fresh dressings, medicine and herbs for sleep and recurrent bleeding in this makeshift kit so that Bridget could take care of Melanie in his stead. Left also, packed discreetly into the bottom of the box, were three glass vials of the painkiller Laudanum: a partially used bottle and two full.

Miss Prescott took the three vials of the opiate from the box and carried them with her toward the bed. She uncorked the tops, then swallowed the contents of each vial as quickly as she could, for the painkiller, usually mixed into some other liquid upon administration, had such a bitter taste. After only a moment or two, she felt nauseous and collapsed onto the floor. She heaved and wretched violently, her whole body shaking, but could bring up nothing but a bit of liquid as she'd had nothing to eat and an empty stomach.

Surprisingly, the nausea passed almost as quickly as it came on, and the girl pulled herself by the bedcover back up to standing. She looked down at her hand and noticed she was still clutching one of the Laudanum vials. Her body and mind seemed to lose control and grow numb. Melanie couldn't seem to get her hand to let go of the glass bottle.

Next, she felt extremely tired and fought to keep her eyes open. No longer able to feel her legs, they gave way and she collapsed across the bed, her head near the footboard and legs now dangling off the side. A quiet stillness settled over the girl as she felt her breathing seem to slow down, and her heart slowing as well, no longer beating hard and fast with anticipation.

After another few moments, the girl was completely numb and could no longer feel anything at all. Melanie did not welcome the feeling yet did not fight against it surrendering completely to it. Her vision soon blurred, then her sight went black as her eyelids fell closed.

A strange sort of peace seemed to hang over the room now as Melanie Prescott lay still and quiet across the bed, one of the glass vials still clutched fast in her hand.