Author's note: Sorry it has taken me so long to get this up. I was going to post epilogue all in one chapter but can see now that it would be huge, so will post in parts. Again, thanks readers for staying with this epic story. Thanks to Julie, Est, and Tracy for ideas and support.
JScorpio...Indiana...COLD AND FROZEN during this huge winter storm we are having!
I hope you will enjoy the epilogue, which follows an afternoon in which one of the characters recalls a few memories.
Epilogue –Part 1 Memories
Late Summer 1804 South Carolina
William Tavington sat on the shaded porch of the beautiful mansion that his late father-in-law, Hayden Prescott, built for his family a generation before. A gentle breeze blew, enough to cool the late August heat just a bit. He closed his eyes and sighed as he ran his hand over his hair, his fingers slightly loosening the tie holding his wavy mane back. His afternoon reverie was interrupted by a slight tug on his sleeve.
"Ganpaw up?" a little angelic voice asked. The insistent tug on Tavington's sleeve continued until he opened his eyes to find his two year old granddaughter Millie Wilkins standing beside his chair.
She began to dance impatiently next to the seat, her arms out, reaching toward her grandfather. "Up Ganpaw," she pleaded in her broken toddler language, "Up. Up!"
William smiled down at the girl as he reached for her. Picking her up, he said, "Very well, child. Come up here and keep grandfather company."
As he set her on his lap, he laughed at her wild, curly locks, always out of control. He tussled the unruly waves with his fingers, still marveling at just how blonde her hair was: platinum; nearly white.
"What is your mother ever going to do with your hair, Millie Mill," he teased, calling her by his favorite pet name for the girl.
His granddaughter smiled and pointed over to her older brother on the other side of the porch. He was playing with a shepherd puppy. The dog was the lone survivor of a small litter of three sickly pups born recently.
"Ganpaw! Buppy!" Millie called excitedly.
"Yes, darling, I see the puppy," her grandfather replied.
William watched the boy with the dog for an instant. "Jamie, not too rough with the dog, huh," Tavington called to his grandson. "Play gently."
"Yes sir," the four year old boy answered.
Little Millie eased back, leaning on her grandfather's chest as he held her. She looked at her rag doll as she bounced it up and down on her own lap. William and the girl sat quietly together for a few moments, relishing the warm breeze blowing softly about them.
The sound of footsteps on the wood broke the silence. Young Jamie Wilkins was now standing next to the two of them with a questioning look on his face.
"Can we take a walk, Gwanpaw?" he asked in his unhoned child language.
General Tavington blinked the near sleep from his eyes as he shifted in his seat, little Millie still upon his lap. "Yes, I suppose so," he answered.
"Can Brownie come along," asked Jamie, nodding back toward the shepherd pup.
"Yes," Tavington said as he stood up, setting his granddaughter back upon her feet on the porch. "The dog needs his exercise as well."
William walked across the porch, his granddaughter holding his hand behind him, making his way toward the front door. Once there, he peeked his head into the house. He looked about the quiet grand room until he spied his daughter, Mary Tavington Wilkins, lying on the divan. The twenty-two year old woman had a damp folded rag upon her forehead and eyes, and one of her hands rested on her very pregnant belly.
"Mary, I'm taking the children for a walk," he announced.
She removed the cloth and looked at her father, groaning lightly as she did. "Are Jimmy and Will back yet?" Her husband and twin brother had gone hunting on horseback a few hours earlier.
"No. Go ahead and rest, though. Everything is fine," Tavington reassured his eldest daughter. William knew she didn't feel well in her condition and the August heat of the Carolinas wasn't helping matters any.
Mary recovered her eyes and let her head sink back into the pillow, glad that her father was spending time with her children this afternoon so that she could find some much needed rest.
The general turned to leave with both children beside him. He watched Jamie before him step slowly down the stairs, as he helped his granddaughter, holding her hand tightly, down the steps. Once down on the driveway, they crossed the lane to the green, William and Millie following Jamie and the puppy, leading the way.
At 53, William Tavington was still slim and muscular, and despite a few more lines and wrinkles about his face, he was just as handsome as he was when he and Melanie Prescott had married twenty three years ago. His dark hair, still long, now held noticeable streaks of grey randomly placed. He looked casual as he walked with his grandchildren, wearing only a white linen shirt, a light tan waistcoat and breeches.
Tavington watched diligently as the Wilkins children scampered ahead of him on the lawn, playing and skipping about with the little dog. Just as they reached a large shade tree, the sound of hammering caught William's ear. He glanced back, then turned to watch two of his farm hands working busily on one of the mill's delivery wagons. They were pounding away, mounting new wheels on the thing.
As William watched them, his mind drifted back to a night with his family, twenty years before, in May of 1784.
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May 1784….
"Damn it!," William swore as he got up from the wooden crate her was sitting on.
"What is it, Will? What's wrong?" Melanie asked with concern.
"It's the wheel," he replied. "Our daylight is gone now and I can't fix it by the lantern; I can't see what I'm doing."
Tavington rubbed his sore neck and heaved a deep sigh. "I know we're fairly close to home, but I don't want to chance making things worse."
He turned back from staring intensely at the crippled Conestoga wagon to looking at his wife. "I'm afraid we'll have to spend the night in the wagon."
A crack of thunder roared through the air as lightning lit up the sky. The wind was blowing in a strong breeze which had made the warm May temperature drop to make it a chilly evening.
"I'm sure I can shore it up enough in the morning to limp home," surmised the General. "If that doesn't work, we'll unhitch the horses and ride home."
General Tavington had taken his family along on his day long business trip today to Bishopville. Melanie had been anxious to visit a Prescott family friend and former neighbor, Mrs. Zimry. She had only recently discovered that the old widow woman had relocated from the countryside and into town. The woman had been anxious to meet again with the only Prescott family member left living and to meet the Tavington children.
After the long day, they had started home and were within a few miles of the farm when the wagon began to steer strangely. Tavington pulled the thing over to check out the situation and discovered the trouble in one of the back wheel areas.
The family had waited patiently nearby while William diagnosed the problem. The twins, Mary and Will, played happily on a blanket under a lantern hanging on a limb above. Melanie had been holding baby Regina while watching her husband intently lest he need some help.
The storm was getting closer. Soon, another, louder crack of thunder sent the twins scurrying from their blanket over to their father, each grabbing one of his legs. The roar caused baby Regina to start crying in her mother's arms.
Melanie shifted the babe to where her head rested just under her mother's chin. "Shh…
There there," Mrs. Tavington soothed. "Mama's here."
Tavington knelt down and put his arms around his children, comforting them. "Mary. Will. It's alright. Papa has you." He kissed each toddler's head as he held them close.
The wind whipped around them, making it feel even colder. Melanie trotted quickly over to the blanket the children had played on and scooped it up as the lantern swayed where it hung on the branch above.
William stood back up, picking Mary up in his arms as he did. "Alright you two. Into the wagon with Mummy." He lifted his daughter over the tailgate and into the vehicle, then did the same with his son. Melanie soon joined her children inside, leaving her husband outside to finish up.
In the wagon, Melanie quickly found all the blankets and pillows she could and put together a makeshift bed for the family on the floor of the thing. Barely four feet wide, it would be a tight fit for all of them, but she knew that with the family tucked together cozily would help to keep them warm during the cool night.
Mrs. Tavington sat the twins on the bed, then laid baby Regina on her back, knowing she would soon turn over onto her stomach—something she'd just learned to do. With the children safe there, she pulled out a large, folded oil cloth to put over them if the canvas roof of the wagon should leak during the night.
Giving a quick look at her children, Melanie then exited the wagon again. She found her husband securing the canvas top down tightly.
"What can I help you with?" she asked.
"Nothing," William replied. "I'm nearly finished. I'll join you in a moment."
"Nonsense! It's starting to rain, Will. The two of us together could get this done faster. Perhaps I could stake the wagon down."
"No!" Tavington answered sternly, a bit of irritation in his voice. "Get back in the wagon with the children."
"I'm not an invalid," Mrs. Tavington sighed and looked down, only wanting to help William. She moved back to the front of the wagon.
William sucked in a breath when he looked at Melanie, knowing he'd upset her. After all, she'd only wanted to help him. He felt badly at brushing her off so quickly. He turned on his heel and met up with her at the entrance to the wagon, where he grabbed her hand.
She stopped on the step into the wagon, turning to look down at her husband.
"I know you're not, Melanie," he stated, addressing her reply. "I don't want to risk hurting you or this one inside you." William's fingertips touched her belly, barely swollen.
She nodded mutely and climbed into the wagon, leaving Tavington to finish up outside. Back inside the wagon, she looked at the children on the bed. Will and Mary were yawning and rubbing their eyes. The six month old Regina had indeed rolled from her back onto her stomach and was sucking on her fist.
Melanie sat down on a bench, her hand moving to her abdomen. She hadn't expected to get pregnant again so soon after Regina was born. The young wife also wasn't thrilled about having another baby so quickly, but she kept her feelings to herself, knowing that the moment she felt the baby movie within her, that she'd become excited to bear another child.
She was only three months pregnant, but as soon as she'd told William she was with child just a couple of weeks ago, she'd noticed a change in their household. It was like the last time, when she carried Regina. The servants and William did everything, trying to make sure she did nothing to exert herself. She knew her husband had wanted things that way ever since losing their baby boy Worthe, who had been stillborn. She could tell that Will, though stoic, had ached when they lost the child, and he seemed determined that she wouldn't suffer another miscarriage or stillbirth.
Melanie sat down onto the bedding with the children tucking each on them in. Will and Regina quieted immediately and fell asleep nearly as fast. She had more trouble getting Mary to calm, who squirmed in her arms. The girl wanted her papa.
Outside, the rain was light but enough to be a nuisance to Tavington as he secured the area. He quickly finished staking the wagon down and chocking the wheels. He then tied the horses to a nearby tree, then stopped to look at the canvas top of the wagon, giving it a tug for good measure. The general then pulled himself up into the wagon.
The man bent his tall frame down to get under the canvas top, stopping to turn and tie the front flaps of the material, sealing them in for the night. He spied his family bedded down on the floor of the wagon.
"We're secure for the night," he said as he took off his wet coat and laid it aside.
"Dada!" Mary called, waggling her arms impatiently at her father.
William smiled at her as he stepped onto the makeshift bed, easing his sore body down to sit on the covers. He pulled his daughter into his arms and kissed her head. The girl immediately settled into his lap.
"Now why aren't you asleep yet, young lady, like your brother and sister are?"
"Dada night night," she whispered.
William chuckled at the girl. He knew that she would never fall asleep without a kiss and hug from her father. Indeed the girl put her thumb in her mouth and laid her head on her papa's child right away, closing her eyes.
The general watched as Melanie tucked the covers around Will and baby Regina. Mrs. Tavington looked up at the canvas top of the wagon.
"We're not going to get wet, are we?" asked his wife with dread as the rain beat down on the material.
"No," William answered confidently. "The cloth was freshly oiled before we left. It won't leak."
Melanie looked at Mary, now asleep on her father's shoulder, thumb having fallen out of her mouth.
"She just needed to tell her papa 'good night'", commented the young mother with a smile. She touched the girl's cheek, stroking it lovingly with her finger tips.
Tavington gathered his sleeping daughter into his arms as his wife pulled the blankets back, making a place for the girl. He laid her down gently in the bed beside him as Melanie covered him up. William then leaned down and placed a loving kiss on her cheek.
"Good night, darling," Melanie bid, leaning over to brush a light kiss across her husband's lips.
"Good night," he replied in a whisper. The general then reached upwards to dim the lantern.
Mrs. Tavington fell asleep nearly as fast as her children had, her pregnant body exhausted from a day of wagon travel, visiting, and minding the children. William, on the other hand, laid awake.
The general found it difficult to sleep on the wagon floor though Melanie had lined it with the padding of blankets. Just as well, he heard every sound outside the wagon, keeping him awake and on alert, guarding against highwaymen or ferocious animals that would dare to venture near. William felt for his pistol, close enough for him to reach for in an emergency but out of the children's way.
In a couple of house, William's eyes became heavy and he finally dozed off. But only a few minutes afterwards, he was roused by baby Regina's fussing.
The man sat up and raised the wick on the lantern to light the darkness. The babe was crying quietly, trying to suck her fist.
Tavington looked at his wife and the twins, still sleeping soundly through the infant's cries. He knew they'd had a busy day that had probably worn them all out.
"Come here to papa, angel," he murmured as he picked up his six month old daughter.
"What's the matter, my love," asked Tavington, looking down at her cradled in his arms.
After a quick check of her pants which were clean, and surmising that she needed more than just the attention of being held, the general reached over an shook his wife awake. "Melanie."
Mrs. Tavington slowly opened her eyes. She sat up when she spied her husband holding the baby.
"I think she's hungry."
Tavington continued to hold his daughter as his wife readied herself to feed the girl. He watched as Melanie quickly undid her dress bodice, then slipped her left arm out of it, baring her left breast.
Mrs. Tavington reached for the baby, taking her from her husband's arms. She shifted the infant in her arms and watched intently as the babe easily latched onto the nipple and began to suck greedily.
"I'm going to check on the horses and relieve myself," William whispered. With that, Tavington quickly got to his feet and ducked out of the wagon. He reappeared after fifteen minutes to find his wife still nursing their daughter.
The man looked lovingly at the two of them. He watched for a moment as Regina clutched Melanie's index finger in her little fist, gripping and re-gripping it as she suckled. William put his hand gently on his daughter's head, then leaned over and kissed her little forehead.
As he rose back up, he noticed his wife looking at him like a school girl with a crush on a boy. Indeed, in the soft glow of the lantern, Melanie was recalling seeing William's face for the first time five and a half years earlier as she recovered at Fort Carolina. Upon awakening from weeks of unconsciousness, his was one of the first faces she'd seen above her bed. She thought him handsome, but his British red uniform, in fact the handful of crimson coats about her that morning had frightened her.
Despite the fear at that time, and after all the years and circumstances that had passed, she still thought her husband very handsome.
William cocked his head to the side and regarded Melanie inquisitively. "What is it?"
"I think you're the most handsome man I've even seen," she said innocently.
Tavington smiled and looked away. He looked back at her with his eyebrows raised. "I think that's the first time you've ever told me that."
Melanie blushed and looked down at the baby. Regina was still nursing, but her eyelids were heavy.
"I think she's nearly done," Melanie predicted.
With the baby still at her left breast, she was taken by surprise as her husband leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss was slow and deep, loving and lustful. As he did, William's left hand slipped into Melanie's open bodice and lightly caressed her right breast. She sighed into the kiss as his hand kneaded the breast a little harder, catching the nipple in his fingers. She soon moaned against Tavington's lips as she felt her nipple becoming erect, sending sparks down her body, and settling between her legs.
William pulled back from the kiss whispering, "You look most beautiful holding our children."
"Oh, Will," she sighed, her eyelids hooded with lust and wanting him badly. "How could you do this to me? The children are next to us and—"
William interrupted her protestations when he leaned forward again, this time to whisper in her ear. "I promise to make love to you in the privacy of our bed chamber when we return home in the morning."
Melanie Tavington smiled at her husband, then looked down to see a satisfied Regina, eyes glazed over with a full belly, looking back up at her mother.
"Would you please burp her, darling?"
"Certainly," replied William taking the baby from his wife. "Come here, princess."
Tavington placed the baby on his shoulder, patting her back. The infant soon let out a loud burp. William made a face as he brought Regina down onto his lap.
"That wasn't very ladylike, Miss Tavington," he teased as he wiped the babe's mouth. The general watched as his wife finished fastening her dress back.
Just then, little Will began to stir, sitting up and looking around sleepily. The two year old boy reached out for his father, fussing.
"Papa," he cried. "Want papa!"
Tavington handed Regina to Melanie as Will climbed into his lap.
"You want to sleep by papa?" asked the general.
Little Will nodded his head yes, then laid it on his father's shoulder.
Melanie laid Regina next to her, then pulled a sleeping Mary over next to the baby. William laid his son down next to where he was. Tavington reached up to dim the lantern again, as he and his wife then settled in, both hoping for some kind of sleep before the dawn's rays could wake them.
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