Chapter 72 Domestic Unrest

January 1782….

Melanie sat in the gazebo and sighed, absently rubbing her swollen belly. She looked about the vast lawn which once had been filled with the white hospital tents of the British army for months. The young wife noticed just how bare it looked.

Her life with General Tavington felt just as empty. Indeed she had hoped for the newlywed bliss that she and William had eight months ago, but it wasn't there. She was disappointed and sad. Her husband had been home for a week now and still continued to be cold and distant from her, yet still made her submit to relations with him. And to her own dismay, the thrill of pregnancy was beginning to slip away, as well.

After a few more moments of thinking, she made up her mind. Melanie did not want to go on living like this. She decided that it was worth risking William's wrath to speak her mind about their marriage. She concluded that it was important to voice the concerns, getting them out into the open, even if it did gain her a beating. The hopeful young woman didn't want them to go on living unhappily after knowing that they had once been happy, and maybe could be again.

At least if her words were laid out on the table and nothing changed, then she could go forward after that and decide just what to do.

~/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/~

After dinner that evening, Mrs. Tavington entered the study where she found her husband reading and replying to a stack of personal correspondence. It was from fellow military men who had worried over his sudden disappearance from parole in New York.

The general paid no attention to her for a couple of minutes. He finally looked up at her and spoke.

"What is it?" he asked in an irritated tone.

"Might I speak with you?" she asked nervously.

"Could you make it quick? I've a lot of work to do," he announced with a sigh of bother.

"I must speak my mind about something, Will," began Melanie timidly, "and if you want to punish me for it, then I will accept it."

William put the quill into the inkwell and leaned back from the desk. He crossed his arms in front of him and gave his wife a suspicious stare. The officer was already thinking the worst, already upset with her impertinence.

"When we were first married, things were so loving and blissful between us," Melanie stated, looking into William's azure eyes. "We were happy. We had some disagreements but, we got through them. You even told me that you loved me."

Mrs. Tavington sighed and looked down, then gazed back at Will and went on. "I missed you so much when you were gone. I worried for you. I couldn't wait for you to come home," she said, looking at him with longing and sincerity in her own eyes.

"And when I found that I was carrying your child, I was so happy," she said, a smile crossing her face as she recalled that moment. "I was thrilled to be able to give you an heir!"

She stopped for a moment and turned away, hating to have to be having this conversation with William. Melanie raised her head and looked at the wall. Then she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"But since you have returned," the young woman continued, "you've been cold and distant toward me, even during relations. And you've not shown any happiness about this baby."

Melanie's hands dropped to her abdomen and caressed it, as if comforting a child that had just been snubbed by a parent.

Mrs. Tavington looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep her composure. She knew she had to find the courage to continue speaking, even though she could feel and see Will's ire starting to rise; things had to be said.

"I grew up with parents that loved each other," she said, "and it was apparent. The household was a happy one."

As she spoke, William stayed calm, deciding to listen to all she had to say. The officer, though, would have rather she'd left him alone to get his work done.

"I wanted that for us, as well," his wife lamented. "I want to grow to love you, but you are pushing me away with your actions."

William heaved a heavy sigh at this and looked accusingly at his wife. He held his tongue though he wanted to reprimand her for her insolence and the bother of it.

"And the way you force me to submit to you," she said, feeling frightened that his calm demeanor might break at any moment now, "and when you threaten me if I refuse and punish me if I don't."

Tavington was doing well to keep in control. How dare she even challenge me about her wifely duties, he thought.

Melanie knew this would anger him since he was so adamant about a wife's duty to her husband, but she pressed on, swallowing her fear. The girl tried to appeal to him with words that would affirm him. "William, you are very handsome, a good lover and so virile. And I know it is your right as a husband to have me whenever you please. I just wish that you could be more understanding with me if I refuse you when I am sick. Please know that I have been sick frequently with this pregnancy."

The young woman forced herself to look into General Tavington's eyes, hoping she might find some reprieve in them. Melanie kept on speaking, hoping that her husband would show mercy after she'd finished. "William, you have told me that as an officer, that you usually don't have the luxury of time to think before you act and react about the results of those actions. I can imagine that it must be hard to adjust from your military life on duty to life at home off duty."

Melanie paused for a moment, trying to find the correct, yet most gentle words. She spoke the words slowly and cautiously. "I just wish that at home, for us, that you would take a moment to think about the possible implications of the actions you choose."

Mrs. Tavington watched as the officer's face hardened, his lips drawing tightly together. She feared that she would be beaten when she stopped talking, but remembered that she'd decided it was better to have the concerns in the open even if it meant punishment, then to go on living unhappily without saying anything at all.

Melanie took a deep breath, hoping to find just a little more courage to forge on, and take her punishment when she was through. "William, I don't want us to end up hating each other. We are married until death, and that can be a long, lonely time to live with someone that you hate."

The young woman had one more thing to say; to tell him, and it was the hardest of all. She hoped that she wouldn't cry when she said it, and sighed, trying to keep her own composure.

"But since you've been home," she spoke cautiously, "while I am still happy to be with child, I am starting to feel sorry that you are the father; that it's your child."

She choked up, but held back the tears as she concluded. "And I hate feeling like that. I don't want to feel that way."

William stood and heaved a sigh. He was quiet for a moment, staring at his wife. Mrs. Tavington looked up at his tall frame and tried to brace herself inside, thinking that a beating was imminent.

"Melanie," began General Tavington, "I have spent the last fourteen years of my life in service to the Crown's Cavalry. Seven of those years have been away from home amidst hostile rebels. I have risked my life for king and country doing my duty. I was injured severely and have had to end my career as a General on a horse on the back lines of the battlefield sending others to do what I physically can't; what I used to enjoy doing. I saw good men die around me."

Will stopped to take a breath after his short proclamation. He went on. "All that sacrifice for what? For Earl Cornwallis to surrender!"

Tavington narrowed his eyes at his wife, feeling the need focus his anger in some direction. The officer continued. "I was humiliated! I was made to accompany General O'Hara in Lord Cornwallis' stead to the surrender ceremony. And although I held my head high, it was still very shameful. I would have rather had gone to the gallows."

Melanie kept quiet. She was trying to listen to him and be sympathetic. His young wife could not altogether understand why her husband was still so upset over something that had happened three months ago. It was not his fault. She knew he would have never surrendered. She understood and witnessed with her own eyes that he was a fierce warrior, fighting with pride.

"When this war is written about in the future," Tavington went on, "I won't be remembered as a hero. I'll be 'Tavington the Carolina Butcher'. I won't be 'Tavington the victorious hero'. I will be recalled as 'Tavington the disgraced General'. You have no idea what loss and surrender does to a military leader."

Mrs. Tavington walked toward her husband. "William—"

"I'm disgraced, Melanie," he stated. "I have nothing."

She knew that he was referring to his reputation, but probably feeling as though he didn't have much else, either. She spoke up.

"You have a plantation and a successful business," she pointed out. Melanie's hand dropped to her pregnant belly and began to caress it. "You have an heir forthcoming. And you have me."

William looked sharply at her. He knew that she wouldn't understand what all this meant to him as an officer. "Yes, I have you, a woman of wealth and privilege; a spoiled girl who has never wanted for anything."

Melanie took a step back, stunned at Will's words. "That's not fair! I have suffered loss—"

"Do you know how many women would like to be in your shoes—or your bed with me?" asked William. To him, he felt as if she was tired of being a wife—his wife.

William burned inside, as well. His thoughts about his wife were swirling. How dare she say all this! She has so much more than others have during this time of war and yet she demands more! I cannot believe her insolence. Didn't she learn her lesson after I punished her for her defiance last summer? Good lord, how many beatings does it take?

General Tavington narrowed his eyes at her accusingly. "You have all this yet you want more! You have me and you want even more from me!"

"No! William I—"

He cut her off, wanting her to feel threatened. "You know how good of a lover I am, and so do many others. There is no shortage of women who desire a wealthy man, able to satisfy them, in their beds."

"Will, what are you saying?" Melanie asked in fear.

"If you can't or won't perform your wifely duties without complaint and if you can't live with me without demands," he shouted, "then I will find a woman who will!"

With that, an angry General Tavington stormed from the office. He grabbed his long red uniform coat on the way out, throwing it on as he made his way off the porch and down the steps.

Melanie chased him as far as the front door, yelling after him. "Will please! Please don't leave!"

She watched him on his horse bolt from the barn and tear down the lane away from the house. The young woman, hanging onto the doorframe, felt a sudden pain in her middle, then another a few seconds later. Mrs. Tavington's knees soon buckled and she collapsed. Feeling sick she leaned forward and threw up.

Afterwards, she pulled her knees to her chest and began to rock herself. She began crying pitifully. "What have I done? What have I done?"

Mrs. Sloane was nearby. She had heard the raised voices and assumed correctly that the master and mistress were fighting. The faithful housekeeper had then seen the general storm out of the house and leave on horseback. The older woman ran to Melanie's aid at the door.

"Mrs. Tavington?" Mrs. Sloane called as she knelt. "Mrs. Tavington?"

Melanie looked up in shame at the woman. "I'm afraid I've messed up the floor," she wept.

"We'll tend to it," the understanding older woman said. "Are you still having pains?"

"No, they're gone now," Mrs. Tavington answered.

"You have got to calm down. You're making yourself sick," Mrs. Sloan remarked, "You can't have these worries in your delicate state."

The housekeeper helped the mistress gently to standing, continuing to speak as she did. "I know that the two of you quarreled. And men, in anger often do rash things. He will come home. But for now, you must try not to worry of this."

Mrs. Sloane looked about for one of the other servants. "Diedre, would you please see to this? Mrs. Tavington is ill. I'm going to help her to bed."

About that time, Mr. Barnes entered the room. "What's the commotion? I just saw the General ride off in a hurry."

"The mistress is sick. Please send for the doctor or the midwife."

~/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/~

Within a couple of hours the midwife had arrived and checked on Melanie, who turned out to be fine. The woman explained that worry could bring on pain and vomiting while in that condition. The girl was stoic during her exam, but went back to worrying after everyone had left.

Mrs. Tavington waited a few minutes, then got out of bed after having been instructed to stay in it and rest for awhile. She crept lightly across the floor to her dressing table where she then sat. Opening her jewelry box, she found the familiar lock of strawberry blonde hair tied to the ring Alexander Bordon had given her. The young woman brought the hair to her nose and could still smell the faint scent of her lover on it.

Melanie looked sorrowfully at the ring and the hair, sighed and closed her eyes. She felt tears starting to well up when she remembered that it had been just a little over a year since Alex had died. She wondered why things had turned out the way they had. Why did Alex have to die? Why had she married William—a man she didn't love? Why couldn't her marriage be loving just like her parents' had been?

After another moment, her thoughts drifted farther. If Alex was alive, he and I would be living together now, just as if we were married. But we wouldn't be living here—there would be too much scandal. He loved me. Would I have the same heartache living with him as I do William? Where would we have lived and made a life together since we couldn't be married? What would Alex do for a living after the war, after his discharge as a military leader? Would he be happy doing something civilian?

The young wife recalled that Alexander was such a fierce warrior, just like William. Alex would have taken the defeat of the British just as hard. With his temper, he may have been unbearable to live with for awhile if he didn't have the regimented life of the military.

It finally hit her that being the proud, brave, and strong officer that William was, that this loss had been a heavy cross for him to carry. And she realized that with defeat, and with a business and wife now here in the colonies, that he would not be returning to England. And with that, he was facing imminent discharge or resignation of his commission. She closed her eyes and sighed, recognizing that William was apprehensive, though he would never admit it, about now having to live life as a civilian, something he hadn't done since he was in his teens. And she knew now that after so many years of the army, fighting, and leading his men, that this was going to be a hard adjustment for the proud general.

The girl gazed at Bordon's mementoes for another moment, then carefully tucked them back away at their rightful place in the back of her jewelry box drawer. Melanie looked forlornly at herself in the mirror and shook her head. How could I have been so selfish, she asked herself. William, hard pressed to admit that he needed anything, needed my consolation and all I could do was ask him to give more than he was able to at the moment. What kind of a wife am I? Not wanting to look herself in the eye anymore, she pushed herself away from her vanity table and padded softly back over to her bed and slid beneath the covers.

Melanie then turned over and buried her face in her pillow and cried. She did not regret that she had spoke of what she wanted from their marriage, but was sorry that she hadn't been sympathetic immediately to her husband's feelings of humiliation. The young woman hoped that she hadn't driven him away for good—or into the arms of a mistress.