My note to readers: Thanks again for your continued support and for reading and staying with this epic of a story. I truly did not want or even think it would get THIS LONG! Also, thanks for your patience when I run 10 days to a couple of weeks between updates--sometimes I just can't get to it in a timely manner. Thanks to the crew: Trace, Est, Cal, and Mel (you know who you are) for your support, suggestions, help!

I honestly can not tell you all to enjoy this chapter. I am sure you will understand why.

Thanks

JScorpio

Chapter 62 The Cost Of Defiance

As the Wilkins' carriage bounced along during the short ride between plantations, Mrs. Tavington dozed off. Though she had slept well and secure at her neighbor's home, the revelation about her husband's action had left her worn out mentally and emotionally.

Soon the carriage came to an abrupt stop, enough to wake the young woman from her short sleep. Melanie looked out the window and up at her house. She took a deep breath before exiting the vehicle, not sure what William's mood would be today. Surely, she thought, that he had calmed down and with some sleep, had realized why she was upset and had to get out of his presence temporarily.

As she ascended the steps to the porch, she was immediately dismayed to see two strumpets from the camp lounging on her veranda, sipping wine. The scowl on the plantation mistress' face was apparent as she stepped off the stairs.

"Why are you here?" she demanded in a less than cordial tone.

"We were invited," one of the harlots answered in a thick, East London accent.

"Yes, by the general," the other one chimed in with the same accent.

"Well, you can leave now and don't ever come up here again," Melanie exclaimed.

The two whores left their wine glasses on the small table, got up and left, giving Mrs. Tavington mean, spiteful looks. She glared back at them. Once they were down the steps, they looked back at her and taunted.

"Your husband is very good in bed!" one teased.

"Yes! He satisfied us over and over again," the other one called in a sing song manner.

Melanie was livid, especially after having given her husband the benefit of the doubt that he would understand her own dismay. She could not believe that he had brought those two harridans into her house.

The young woman entered the house and spied Diedre, the house maid. "Where is the general?" she asked.

The young maid gulped and hesitated before answering. "Um….he's….a…he's in the study, Ma'am." The girl curtsied quickly and hurried into the kitchen equally as fast.

Mrs. Tavington arrived at the door of the study. From the doorway, the sight she beheld made her even more furious. Her husband was sitting on the edge of his desk, running his fingers up and down the side of the shapely hips of a young doxy. Both Tavington and the girl did not notice that they now had company.

Melanie cleared her throat. Her eyes shot tiny daggers at the two. "Ahem…..get out!" she said in a raised voice to the girl. The young whore lifted her skirts and pressed past the mistress of the house as fast as she could.

"I am absent one night and you bring those trollops into our house; our bed!" Melanie yelled.

"You weren't here attending to your wifely duties, were you," William shot back accusingly.

Her husband had gone too far this time, she thought. "From now on, we are married in name only," she announced. "I'll be taking a different bedroom."

Will got up from the desk and walked menacingly toward his wife. "Oh no," he proclaimed. "This will not be a marriage in name only. You will attend to your wifely duties without question and complaint…..or else!"

"You will never touch me again, William Tavington!", she proclaimed defiantly.

"I won't, hmmmm?"

With that, Melanie began to back away from her husband. With a fast lunge he caught her arm in a tight grip. The officer began to drag his wife behind him from the office and across the grand hall heading toward the stairway. She was pulling and struggling behind him to get free from his bruising grasp.

"It seems that you need to be reminded of your place and duties as my wife!" snarled Tavington as he pulled her along.

"No! Stop! Let go of me, William!" She continued to fight, trying to dig her heels in and attempting to hit him with her free hand.

Melanie's screams of protest brought the servants running. They stood aghast, watching the master and mistress of the plantation fight. Will took no heed of them, continuing to force his wife toward the stairway.

At the bottom of the steps, Tavington strongly picked his wife up and slung her body across his shoulder, keeping a tight hold on it. He was quiet as he carried Mrs. Tavington up the curved stairway, with her protesting and beating on him with her free hand all the while.

"Put me down! Stop this!" she screamed.

Once on the landing, the officer continued to carry his wife down the second floor hallway to their bedroom. After they entered, he locked the door quickly, then dropped her onto the floor on her bottom.

She scooted away from him backwards on her bum. By the bed side of the bed she pulled herself up and looked for something nearby to hurl at his head.

As she scanned the room, Will walked toward the bureau where his weapon belt hung. The general calmly pulled his riding crop from the belt. He whacked it lightly, but enough to make a threatening noise, into his palm.

Melanie's eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. She started to inch her way toward the door, trying to put whatever little distance she could between her and William.

"Time for a little discipline," William growled.

The young women took a deep breath, then jumped toward the door. She twisted the doorknob with one hand, and pounded crazily on the door with the other. The girl couldn't get the door to open, sending her into a deeper panic.

"Help me! Somebody help me!", screamed Melanie through the door. "PLEASE!"

General Tavington grabbed his wife around the waist and carried her away from the door. She fought him the short way across the room, her limbs flailing as he lifted her off the floor with one strong arm.

Suddenly he slammed her down to her feet and bent her forward roughly across the small table in their room. He leaned his body sideways onto the trunk of hers, effectively pinning her down, the girl wriggling beneath him still trying to free herself.

William threw the back of her skirts up to her waist, exposing her bare bottom and thighs. With his right arm, he raised the riding crop high then brought it down, landing a hard strike across Melanie's soft ass. The young woman let out a blood curdling scream on contact.

"Don't you ever leave this house again to speak of our business to anyone!" Tavington shouted, then punctuated his demand with another strike to her bare skin. This one landed where her bottom met the top of her thighs.

A scream from Mrs. Tavington cut the air again as the pain from the swat radiated up and down her skin. William raised his arm again.

"Do not ever refuse me relations again!" Will shouted, a third hit cutting across the mid level of the back of her thighs.

Melanie saw stars before her eyes, nearly blinded with the pain. Her legs felt weak, sure that they were going to give out.

"Don't ever lock me from our bedroom again!" William said, hitting Melanie hard a fourth time.

She screamed as the whip lapped across her skin like a hot wire. The young woman continued begging for him to stop.

"Don't every defy me again!" shouted the officer as he struck her yet again across the back of her knees. The sting was horrible, leaving Melanie feeling as if it traveled throughout her whole body. She now saw sheets of white before her eyes and became dizzy, certain that she was going to faint; wishing she would.

Tavington raised his arm again and landed another strike on her skin where her buttocks met with her lower back. Breathing hard, he drew himself up to his full height then threw his riding crop to the floor. He tugged his breeches down and forced his erection into his unwilling and unready wife.

He rutted hard into her, drilling himself as forcefully as he could into and out of her. As he did, Melanie folded her arms and buried her face on them, trying to muffle her sobs.

After a few more strokes, Will came, emitting a satisfied groan as he did. He stood up straight again and inched his pants back up, and let Melanie fall to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Through her tears she saw that she sat near his discarded riding crop, as if planned, as if there to remind her not to misbehave. Melanie was crying inconsolably with the pain and humiliation of it all.

Tavington was panting as he stood, the whole physicality of the episode leaving him near breathless. In another moment, he knelt down in front of his wife, a frightening scowl on his face and fury in his ice blue eyes.

Mrs. Tavington was still weeping, hiding her face on her folded arms upon her drawn up knees. William grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her face up to look at him.

"Now, you are my wife and I expect you to act as nothing less," he began ominously. "You will have relations at my whim or I will make you submit. You will not defy me again. And you will stand by my side, look pretty and happy and keep your mouth shut."

Melanie was shaking with fright now, not sure if her angry husband was through with her or not. She was sniffling, trying to hold her tears back.

"Is that understood?"

"Yes," she sniffled, nodding her head, beaten into submission and her spirit aptly broken.

With that,General Tavington stood, turned without a word, and exited the room. His wife held her breath as he did.

When he left, she hugged her knees to her chest and sobbed again, still in shock over everything. She wished she wasn't married to him, and began to think that maybe she had been spared having a child with William for a reason: the child would be ruled by its father with discipline out of fear and intimidation, instead of love.

Downstairs, the servants watched the general leave the house to attend to duties outside as they worked diligently. The small group had seen the commotion between the two nearly as soon as the missus arrived back home. They witnessed the Melanie fighting against her husband, then being forcibly taken upstairs. They also heard the air splitting screams that came from the mistress and the strike of an object against skin. The servants and slaves thought the worst.

Mrs. Sloane, who reminded all the servants and slaves that they were never to interfere with the plantation owners business, was muttering under her breath to Diedre. This was unusual, the young maid thought, for the head servant usually held her tongue with dignity.

"Shameful! Completely shameful!" she said quietly. "For him to bring those slatterns into this house and the mistress' bed! Mr. Prescott never did anything so scandalous!"

The woman continued on folding the clothes with Diedre, then continued ranting. "Despicable! Horrid for him to treat the mistress that way! She does not deserve it! Mr. Prescott never did anything that wicked to Mrs. Prescott."

The young maid folded the linens quietly, letting the older maid rave on. "Sure, they had their disagreements, but he never lifted a hand to her! He loved and adored her. Oh, what has the missus gotten herself into?"

"Keep on with the folding," instructed Mrs. Sloane, "I'll go check on the mistress."

The older woman moved up the stairway and entered the master bedroom quietly. She spotted Melanie huddled against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest, sniffling. The poor girl was rocking senselessly back and forth.

"Mrs. Tavington, 'tis alright now, the master is gone," the sympathetic maid informed quietly. "He's gone to attend to things outside."

Melanie said nothing, instead nodding her head mutely. As the older maid stood back up straight, she felt a tug on her skirt. She looked down at the pathetic girl.

"I'm going to be sick," said the young wife.

Mrs. Sloane quickly grabbed the wash basin nearby and shoved it in front of the young woman. Melanie leaned forward and threw up into the porcelain bowl. After a moment, she leaned back and rested against the wall, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her dress.

"Would you like to have a bath brought up?" the older woman asked.

"Yes, please," answered Melanie in a weak and breaking voice.

Within an hour, a tub and hot water were brought into the bedroom. Mrs. Tavington let out a whimper as she pulled herself up off the floor. She groaned as she got undressed, hurting her to do so.

The young woman crossed the floor to the full length mirror. She took her hand mirror from the bureau and viewed her naked backside and legs in the looking glass. Tears flooded her eyes as she saw a few narrow, red raised lines haphazardly crossing the delicate, white skin of her thighs and bottom.

She sucked in a deep breath to stop her crying, then moved again back to the tub. She stepped in, relieved to feel the warm water. Melanie Tavington let out a sigh as she sank her aching body down into the water. The young woman finally felt relief and peace, albeit temporarily, as the warmth of the bath surrounded her battered body.