Author: Brandie

“You will go to Savannah and confer with Colonel Hawking on how to resolve the problem they’re having with the militia groups,” Lord General Cornwallis instructed. Tavington stood before him, listening to his latest orders.

“Very well, sir,” Tavington said. “How many men shall I take with me?”

“None,” Cornwallis emphasized, “I don’t want to alert the rebels to our movements. I want this to be discreet. We need to make it look like a casual trip, for leisure. Take a carriage. I’ll send you a driver, but that’s it. You should probably take a servant with you to keep up appearances.”

“Yes, my lord, I understand,” Tavington said.

“I’m sure you already have someone in mind,” Cornwallis said. Tavington remained silent, but Cornwallis continued. “Your girl – what’s her name?”

“Juliana, sir,” Tavington replied.

“Yes. She’ll do.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tavington stood, waiting, wondering why Cornwallis hadn’t dismissed him yet.

“You and … Juliana seemed close last week at the last party.” Cornwallis had observed Tavington’s interaction with the slave girl. His curiosity had piqued that night because he’d been so different with her then than he had been on earlier occasions, better than he’d ever seen him act with her. “I don’t believe I’d ever seen the two of you share a dance before.”

“Yes, well, it was the last big event of the social season, sir,” Tavington said, beginning to formulate his excuse. “I felt that she was entitled to at least a little entertainment for once.”

“How kind of you. I feel I should remind you, however, of the need to conform to standards of behavior becoming of a gentleman.”

Tavington’s dark brows knitted in confusion. “Sir?”

“I don’t have to tell you that while you’re in that uniform, Colonel, you represent Britain and more importantly the Crown. We musn’t give the appearance of any improprieties. ”

“Sir, I don’t see how one dance could be mistaken for impropriety,” Tavington said.

“It can, Colonel,” was Cornwallis’s reply. “And I would very much appreciate it if that one mistaken impropriety is the only one that I hear of. Do I make myself clear, Colonel?”

“Yes, my lord,” came the reply from a bewildered Tavington.

“Well – now that that’s all taken care of, have a good trip.”

/\/\/

The coach came to a stop after about two hours of rigorous travel. Juliana peered out the window, but she couldn’t determine a reason for the stop. They weren’t near any towns, as far as she could tell.

“Don’t worry, we’re just stopping for a little rest,” Tavington said, allaying her concerns. The coach door opened, and he and Juliana emerged.

Juliana looked around and found that there wasn’t much to look at. There was plenty of forest greenery to see, and they had come to a halt alongside a flowing stream that wound and bent on its course alongside the land.

“How long are we gonna to be here?” Juliana asked.

“Probably about an hour or so. Long enough for a meal, I’m sure. We’ll stop here and let the horses rest before we move on.” He looked up at the sky and realized that they should have left Charles Town earlier. It would be dark soon. “We might even have to stop over here for the night if the light goes,” he added. His eyes turned to Juliana. “I’m going for a little walk. I’d like to think that I could trust you not to run away from me.”

“Colonel, we are in the wilderness, and I can’t even begin to guess our whereabouts. Where would I run off to?” The time had passed for escape attempts, Juliana concluded. She’d been offered an easy way out with Eleanor’s plan, and she’d probably realize that she’d been a fool for not taking it.

Satisfied, Tavington nodded, turned, and was off. Juliana looked at her remaining companion, the British soldier who’d actually been driving the coach. He was their usual driver, the one who typically drove them to social functions they attended.

“I s’pose I’ll go for a walk, too,” Juliana announced. We’ve been traveling for so long, I’d like a chance to stretch my legs, if that’s all right with you.”

“Of course it is,” the driver answered. “I heard what you told the colonel, and you’re right – you don’t really have anywhere to go, now do you?”

Juliana turned and walked along the river, away from the coach. The truth of it all was that she wanted some privacy. It was an unusually warm day for February, with temperatures that felt more like springtime than winter. Juliana wanted to take full advantage of it by taking some time out to enjoy a quick dip in the stream.

When she was confident that she’d put enough distance between herself and the driver, Juliana stopped walking. She’d stopped at a little inlet that was mostly obscured from view of anyone who might happen to pass by. She looked around once more to make sure she was absolutely alone. Then, she began to undress, laying her clothes out on an old tree stump. She crouched down and splashed the cool water up on her face before slipping in.

The water was a shock at first, but Juliana quickly adapted. The gentle current massaged her skin and felt like heaven. She stayed to one side of a large tree root that grown up from the river bed and effectively divided Juliana’s little watery haven into two distinct sections. She waded along the length of the oversized root away from the land and into deeper water. When she got to the point where the water came to just beneath her chest when she stood upright, Juliana completely submerged herself to get her head and shoulders wet. When she surfaced, she heard something that she hadn’t expected to hear – splashing that wasn’t coming from her. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the tree root that she was currently behind. Who – orwhat – was it?

Whatever was on the other side of that log, Juliana didn’t want to find out, and she didn’t want it to find out that it wasn’t alone. She looked over to the stump where she’d placed her clothes. Maybe if she moved very slowly, the noise of her moving through the water would blend with the newcomer’s own splashing and the sound of the soft current. Deciding to chance it, she began to move, slowly, and was about halfway across when something on the bottom of the stream moved past her foot, startling her. It caused Juliana to move suddenly, despite herself, and a loud splash resulted. She froze, praying that she hadn’t been discovered. But the splashing from the other side of the log ceased, causing Juliana even greater cause for concern.

“Who’s there?” a male voice rang out.

Juliana was absolutely still and silent. Maybe this person would just go away.

Nonetheless, the man continued, “Whoever you are, I would advise that you leave immediately. I have a gun within arm’s reach, and I will not hesitate to use it.”

Juliana listened. This person on the other side of the fallen trunk sounded very familiar. Though she had an idea of whom it might be judging from the tone of voice, she didn’t want to take any chances. She took a deep breath and began to move toward land again. She gained confidence with every passing second that the man on the other side remained silent. It suggested to Juliana that he’d turned his attention back to his own tasks and was no longer concerned with her.

Juliana hadn’t waded two feet when Tavington emerged from the water in front of her. They both froze and looked at each other for a few awkward moments, not being able to do anything else.

Tavington had thought he was about to be the victim of an ambush. The last person he’d expected to see on the other side of that log was Juliana. He couldn’t say that he was disappointed. Transfixed, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He actually found himself unable to speak at the moment. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

And she was apparently terrified. When Tavington had thought someone was about to attack him, he’d grabbed his dagger before crossing underwater beneath the root. He’d come out of the water with it just now, ready to attack. He lowered the weapon, relaxed, and tried to slow his racing heart.

Juliana visibly calmed. She had never seen Tavington like this before. His hair was loose about his broad, bare shoulders. He was as naked as she, and now she saw the firm, muscular body that had always been hidden from view by the impeccable uniform he always wore. When she realized that he was staring at her as much as she was him, she self-consciously lowered herself into the water, so that everything but her head was obscured. “Colonel,” she said, forcing the syllables from her mouth and forcing herself to away from him.

“Juliana,” Tavington said. When he realized that he’d been staring he politely turned away. A rosy tint flushed his cheeks. “I had no idea it was you on the other side,” he continued. “Why didn’t you say anything? Didn’t you recognize my voice?”

“I did, but I didn’t know if it actually was you,” Juliana replied. She looked at Tavington again, and he at her. For a moment, it seemed as if everything around them stopped and as if they were in a world all their own. Then there was something to pull them back into the real world.

“Colonel?” It was the carriage driver calling from the water’s edge.

Juliana, still mostly underwater, instinctively moved closer to Tavington to shield herself from the driver’s line of sight. Tavington turned and looked at the driver. “What is it?” The tone of his voice made it clear that he was annoyed at the intrusion on a very private moment.

“Sir, should we prepare to make camp for the night?” the driver called. “The light’s going quite fast.”

“Yes, go ahead,” Tavington called in response. He watched the soldier disappear back into the forest and then turned back to Juliana. Again, he found it hard to look away. He had this urge to reach out and touch her, pull her close. It was an intense desire that took him by surprise and scared him half to death, but she spoke before he got the chance to act on it.

“I’m gonna go see if they need any help,” Juliana said. She waded past Tavington wanted to be a gentleman and give Juliana at least a little privacy, but his desire won. He turned his head in time to see her emerging from the water, and he caught a glimpse of her nude form. He looked away again when Juliana looked his way. He was thoroughly embarrassed by this whole incident.

He sat across from her, watching, pondering why in the devil he was still alive. He should be dead, having suffered a horrible death. Why had she spared him? It would have been so easy for her to have let him eat the meal. He could imagine that she would have been happy to be rid of him. But no. And Tavington could only wonder why.

The carriage came to an easy stop outside a large house. A few people were milling about near the entrance waiting to go in. The coach door opened. Tavington stepped out and turned to help Juliana out.

/\/\/

This was the last big party scheduled for the season, and Tavington couldn’t say he was disappointed. The whole process was getting old by this point, though having Juliana along for the ride this go around had made the whole ordeal … interesting.

He watched her now, standing at his side as usual, and he noticed, for the first time that night, her melancholy demeanor. She usually appeared at least mildly interested, but tonight was different. There was a definite sadness about her tonight, and he knew why. Not two weeks ago, she’d had to turn on a trusted friend, and now she was most likely still reeling from the effects of that decision.

Tavington deposited his glass on a table and turned to Juliana once again. “I don’t think I’ve ever danced with you before, Juliana.”

The statement obviously caught Juliana off-guard. She didn’t seem to know what he’d said at first, and once she’d realized what he’d said, she didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. “Sir?” she asked quizzically.

“I said we’ve never danced before, have we?” Tavington repeated.

“No, Colonel,” Juliana replied. “We haven’t.”

“Why don’t we change that?” Tavington suggested. To Juliana’s great shock, Tavington took her by the arm and began to lead her to an open area of the room, near the stringed quartet that was providing the music for the evening.

“Colonel, I’ve never done this kind of dancin’ before,” Juliana said, hesitantly. Tavington didn’t say anything, but Juliana looked up at him, and she saw a look in his eyes that she’d never seen before. It was a softer look, a kinder, gentler expression that she’d never seen on his face before. And it put her at ease. And it scared her because she’d never seen it before. She’d spent her weeks growing accustomed to his ways, his looks, his manners, his moods … and now with one look, he’d thrown her into turmoil because she didn’t know what was coming next.

/\/\/

They returned home late. Juliana still wasn’t used to the feeling of coming home to a completely empty house. Part of her still expected Eleanor to meet her at the door or at the base of the stairs. But of course Juliana knew that scenario would never be again.

She had begun walking up the stairs when Tavington called out to her.

“Juliana?” She turned to him, still intrigued by his unexpected actions earlier in the evening.

Tavington approached her. “Did you enjoy the evening?”

Juliana hesitated before answering. She didn’t want to say that she had because she had an inkling that Tavington would say something cruel in response. But she found herself unable to truthfully say that her night had been unpleasant. It hadn’t. In fact, this night had been the most enjoyable to her out of all the other nights she’d accompanied Tavington.

“Did you?” Tavington pressed gently.

Juliana studied him. He seemed like he was genuinely interested in her answer, so she descended the few steps between them. “I did,” she said, finally answering his query.

Tavington nodded. “Good,” he said. “Good.”

Juliana gave him a final, parting look before turning to ascend the stairs once again. She had cleared two or three steps when he called out to her again. She turned to him, and this time, he took the steps to diminish the gap between them.

“There’s been something that’s been on my mind for … a while now. A few weeks, really.” Tavington began. “It’s something that I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Juliana watched him expressly. This had been a strange night for her, and it was only getting stranger by the minute, it seemed.

Tavington began to speak again, but stopped to consider his words. “Why didn’t you let me eat the meal Eleanor prepared for me? Why did you stop me?”

Juliana had been asking herself the same thing since the night that it had all happened. That had been nearly two weeks ago, and she still didn’t have an answer. “Do you want the truth, sir?” she asked him.

“I want nothing else,” Tavington said.

“The truth is that I don’t know,” Juliana said. “It just seemed like the right thing to do, I s’pose. It didn’t seem right for her to do that to you. It isn’t right to do it to anybody.”

“Even if it’s absolutely necessary?”

“No, Colonel. Never.” Those being her final words of the night, Juliana turned and walked up the stairs, leaving Tavington behind to dwell on her words. This girl that he’d acquired, Juliana – there was something about her that he couldn’t figure out, something that he wanted to figure out, something that he would figure out.

Juliana perched herself on a stool in the kitchen, and watched Eleanor as she traveled back and forth between the counter and the hearth fire, working. Juliana felt drained, having endured the previous night with Tavington at Lewis’ house. In addition to the emotional toll the ordeal had taken on Juliana, she and Tavington hadn’t returned home until very late in the evening, after midnight. Eleanor had been awake until after Juliana had drifted off to sleep. Now, she was working diligently, as if she’d gotten a full night of rest.

“What’s for dinner tonight, Eleanor?” Juliana asked. She picked up a potato and looked it over.

Eleanor didn’t look up from her mixing bowl. “Somethin’ special,” she merely said.

Juliana grinned at Eleanor’s mysterious reply. “So, what is it?”

“Roast,” Eleanor said.

Juliana believed there was probably more to it than just ‘roast’. “That sounds appetizin’,” she said.

“It will be, especially for the colonel,” Eleanor said. This time she did look up from the bowl at Juliana.

“Is roast his favorite or somethin’?” Juliana asked.

“It’s one of ’em,” Eleanor said. “And I’m gonna make it extra special for him tonight.”

“That sounds like a nice thing to do. You’re a better person than I am. If I were cookin’ for him, I’d have half a mind to poison him. And here I thought you couldn’t stand him. What’s gonna be so special about this roast you’re cookin’ for him tonight?”

“It’s gonna be in the gravy,” Eleanor said. She reached over and pointed to a small bag that didn’t seem to fit in with any of the other cooking ingredients on the table. Juliana, curious, picked up the bag. She nearly dropped it because of what was on the label.

“Rat poison … ” Juliana’s voice trailed. She looked at Eleanor and kept her voice low when she spoke again. “What in God’s name are you doin’? You can’t do this.”

Eleanor lowered her voice so that it matched Juliana’s tone. “Well, I am. That man is pure evil. I woulda thought that you, more than anybody else, would know that. You should be happy. I’ll be doin’ the world a favor by gettin’ rid of him.” She looked at Juliana sternly. She didn’t say anything, but Juliana understood clearly what she was to do. She was supposed to keep her mouth shut and go along with this.

And why shouldn’t she? Juliana had as much to gain from Tavington’s death as Eleanor and Nathan, maybe even more. If Eleanor could poison Tavington, and the three of them could possibly get away and distance themselves from the incident, they might have a fighting chance.

Juliana put the bag of fatal seasoning back down on the countertop. “Won’t he taste it?” she asked.

“Won’t be enough in there for him to taste it,” Eleanor replied. “it don’t take much to get the job done.”

/\/\/

Juliana couldn’t force herself to behave normally after discovering Eleanor and Nathan’s plot. Juliana had learned that Nathan was indeed a party to the scheme, as he had been the one to acquire the poison in the first place. He’d gotten it from town under the common presumption that it would be used to take care of a rodent problem.

Now, Juliana sat at the dinner table, anxious but guarded, not wanting to let on to Tavington that anything was out of the ordinary. If she could just get through this, she would be out of this God-forsaken house and home free. She watched Eleanor bring out a pitcher and then the appetizers. Eleanor had told Juliana that the poison would be in the gravy on the roast and that everything else would be safe to eat and drink. So, everything depended on whether Tavington ate the roast or not. Juliana hoped the colonel was hungry.

Juliana had little appetite this night but was encouraged to see Tavington finish the appetizer. She hoped he hadn’t filled up on that first course. She would find out soon, because Eleanor was bringing out the main course now. She brought out the entrées on individual plates.

Juliana was livid with anticipation as Eleanor placed a plate before either of them and returned to the kitchen. Juliana watched Tavington take a drink of water. In just a matter of moments, she would be free of him, after two months of arduous captivity. The freedom was so close, Juliana could feel it on the tip of her tongue.

She watched Tavington pick up his fork and knife. She watched him slice at the tender slab of meant, which had been roasted to perfection. It was a beautiful roast, one that no one would ever suspect of being deadly. Juliana watched him stab the small, sliced piece of meat with his fork and raise it to his mouth. A few more seconds, and he would eat what was on the fork, and he would probably be dead not long after that, if Eleanor had put enough poison in the sauce. Juliana was only a few desperate minutes from freedom.

But before Tavington could guide the fork to his lips, before the tainted meat could touch his tongue so the poison could take effect and do its job, Juliana was out of her seat.

“Colonel, no!” Juliana exclaimed, already at his side. “Don’t eat it; it’s poisoned.”

Tavington regarded her quizzically, then skeptically. “Poisoned? Juliana, if this is your idea of a joke, it isn’t very funny.” He’d lowered his fork and the meat, but now raised it again, fully intending to partake of his meal.

“Colonel, don’t – please,” Juliana practically begged. She reached out and grabbed the fork and his dinner plate away from him.

Tavington stood, outraged. “Juliana, what on earth has gotten into you? I demand that you place my dinner back on the table at once!”

“I can’t, Colonel. Eleanor is tryin’ to poison you. If you eat this, you’ll die.”

“What?” Tavington asked, still skeptical. “Of all the bloody nonsense I’ve ever heard … Eleanor! Get in here!”

Eleanor emerged from the kitchen immediately. “Yes, sir?” she said.

“Juliana has made the most preposterous allegation,” Tavington said. “She claims that you have poisoned my food and are trying to kill me.”

Eleanor didn’t reply. She merely turned to Juliana in surprise. The surprise quickly turned into a glare.

“It isn’t an accusation, Colonel,” Juliana proclaimed. “It’s the truth.”

“This is ridiculous,” Tavington said. He turned to Juliana, treating her to a glare of his own. “If you don’t quit behaving so poorly, you’re going to regret it.”

Juliana took his warning seriously, but wasn’t deterred from her mission of proving the truth. She turned to Eleanor, the fork and plate still in hand. “If this roast is perfectly safe, why don’t you take a bite?” she dared Eleanor. She moved the thrust the meat toward Eleanor, who instinctively shrunk back, knowing what was in the gravy.

“What’s the matter, Eleanor?” Juliana asked. “You don’t like roast all of a sudden?”

Tavington watched the interaction with growing interest, and realized that Juliana had been right about Eleanor. He also realized how close he’d come to meeting death.

He looked at Eleanor, unnerved. He didn’t want to believe that she would try to do something like this, but the evidence was right there in front of him.

“You should know that Nathan was part of this, too,” Juliana revealed. She didn’t even know what she was doing, why she was revealing all this to Tavington. Wasn’t he supposed to be the common enemy, here? Why was she saving his life and dooming herself to a useless existence in the process. She felt rotten inside because she knew that Eleanor’s fate was going to be nothing good. But there was also something inside of her that made her feel as if she would have felt even worse if she’d let Tavington consume that meat. She hated Tavington as much as the next person, but poisoning his food, not giving him a fair chance to defend himself was sneaky and underhanded. It was a tactic Tavington would adopt, and Juliana knew that she was above that kind of trickery. Apparently, Eleanor hadn’t been. And now she would probably pay for it with her life.

Tavington wandered outside. He needed a reprieve from the stuffiness of the party. He also needed to satisfy his curiosity about where Juliana had gone off to. He’d seen her slip out of the ballroom with O’Hara and had expected them to be gone for only a moment. After nearly ten minutes, Tavington’s had finally gotten the best of him, and he found himself at the entrance to the porch.

He stepped out onto the porch at the rear of the house and wasn’t surprised to find the lawn nearly desolate – nearly. It was dark, but Tavington could make out two figures on a bench a short distance off from the house. He couldn’t actually discern who the two individuals were, but Tavington could distinctly see a red coat and a blue dress. Juliana wore a blue gown this night, he recalled.

Tavington began to move down the steps, away from the porch. The more ground he covered on his way to the couple, the better he could see them, and he realized that the two were involved in some sort of struggle. Soon, he was right up on them. He saw that the Redcoat was O’Hara and that he was attempting to assault Tavington’s property.

“General, what do you think you’re doing?” Tavington asked. He didn’t sound particularly upset, but his face was an open book, and it told a story of fury.

O’Hara, annoyed, turned and looked at Tavington. “Tavington – I’ll kindly suggest that you move along to another location. As you can see, I’m quite occupied at the moment.” He turned back to Juliana, intending to pick up right where he’d left off.

Tavington realized that he was addressing a superior officer, but at the moment, the fact seemed secondary. “Sir, I’ll have to ask that you cease your behavior. This girl is my property.”

“From what I can see, and feel, this ‘girl’ is far from a girl,” O’Hara said, his eyes still glued to Juliana. “And technically, she is supposed to be the property of the King’s army. Lord Cornwallis was beyond generous by allowing you to keep her as your own. If you ‘d like to ensure that she is in fact returned to you, you will leave us.”

Juliana looked to Tavington with terrified eyes. She was practically clinging to bench, trying unsuccessfully to get some distance between herself and O’Hara.

Tavington looked from Juliana to O’Hara again. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” he said.

O’Hara turned to Tavington, not believing his ears. He stood, finally letting go of Juliana, and walked up to Tavington. “And why is that, Colonel?” O’Hara asked.

“Because I cannot allow you to harm my property,” Tavington said. Tavington glared at O’Hara, and O’Hara at Tavington. The two men stared at each other solidly, neither of them shirking away from the other.

Juliana stood slowly. This was her chance. After what had just happened, what had nearly happened, she knew that she couldn’t do this anymore. She couldn’t live like this. She didn’t have the strength. She looked out at the harbor, remembering her earlier notions of just making a run for it. At the moment, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea. What other option did she have? She took off running towards the harbor. She didn’t care about her chances for success at actually attaining freedom. She didn’t care if she drowned. She just knew that she couldn’t be stuck in her life as it was now. She would have rather been dead.

“Damn,” Tavington cursed. He was after Juliana in seconds. The girl had to know that she wouldn’t be able to get away from him so easily. He was much faster than she, especially since he wasn’t hindered by a large, cumbersome dress. He quickly overtook her and caught her roughly by the arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he exploded at her, slightly winded. “Where did you think you were going?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. He yanked at her arm, pulling her toward the house. As Tavington passed O’Hara, the two men exchanged ominous looks. Their business was not yet done.

/\/\/

“Just how far do you think you would have gotten?” Tavington asked Juliana. They’d returned to his house after a tension-filled ride from Middleton Place. Neither of them had uttered one word during the entire trip.

Now, an agitated Tavington stood over Juliana, who sat on a chair in the parlor. “I provide you with clothing, shelter, food, and I ask nothing, nothing, in return except that you do as I say,” Tavington continued, fuming. “Is this at all unbearable? Are you so terribly unhappy here that you would rather risk drowning in order to get away? Why?”

Juliana felt that she didn’t have anything to lose by truthfully speaking her mind at this point. If he killed her, it would come as a blessing. “If you had to live with a homicidal madman, wouldn’t you be unhappy?” she questioned him boldly.

“What on earth are you talking about?” Tavington asked, genuinely baffled.

“You’re the Butcher,” Juliana accused. “You kill at will and at random. You tell me how I can possibly be happy livin’ here, under the same roof, with such a person.”

Tavington narrowed his eyes at her. “‘The Butcher’? Is that what’s got you all upset? That’s just a story colonials have created to scare little children at night,” Tavington insisted. “There’s no truth to it.”

“Oh, there isn’t? That’s difficult for me to believe when my very own eyes saw you light fire to my home and burn it to the ground,” Juliana retorted.

“Your home?” Tavington scoffed. “You were a slave. That wasn’t your home – it was your master’s home.”

“He wasn’t simply a master to me,” Juliana said. “That was my family. It was the only family I ever knew.”

Tavington rolled his eyes, expecting to hear another diatribe about the symbolic family that the American slave system had created. “Yes, yes. I know all about your beloved paternalism,” he said, visibly annoyed.

“That isn’t what I’m talkin’ about,” Juliana said. She stood and approached Tavington. “Mr. George Harris was more than my master; he was my grandfather.”

Tavington looked at Juliana, stunned by her admission. She continued. “My mother was his daughter. So, yes, while it’s all just another casualty of war to you, it’s a bit more personal to me.”

Tavington peered down at Juliana. Did she believe her story to be unique? The colonies were no doubt filled with slaves who shared similar stories. “I did what was required of me. Your master, your grandfather, was a traitor. Nothing more. Frankly, I find it puzzling that you appear to have such affection for a man who would continue to enslave you and your mother, who were supposed to be his flesh and blood. How could you hold in esteem someone who would refuse to acknowledge his relation to you?”

“He treated us as best he could, under the circumstances,” Juliana defended. “He was a good master.”

“Oh, yes – because he let you work inside the house as opposed to outside in the field,” Tavington mocked. “I do see the source of your feelings now.”

“You just don’t understand,” Juliana said.

“No, I don’t. Explain it to me.”

Juliana turned away from Tavington and walked over to the window. “It’s hard to describe,” she said.

“No. I find it quite simple, actually. The truth of it is that your beloved grandfather regarded you as nothing more than mere chattel.

“That isn’t true,” Juliana insisted

Tavington strode over to the window and stood behind her. He whispered into her ear, “You were nothing more than a house slave to him, and you know it. You also know that your grandfather wasn’t worth his weight in salt.” He said it because it was true. The reaction that it evoked from Juliana, though, was an added perk.

She turned to him. “You don’t understand,” she said angrily. “And I’m not obligated to explain it to you. You should just kill me, and get it over with already.” She began to walk away, but Tavington stopped her by grabbing her arm.

“I won’t kill you, my dear,” he told her, “but I promise you that if you ever think about pulling another stunt like the one you attempted tonight, I will make your life a living hell. If you don’t believe it, I suggest you test me.”

His words came calmly, without any verbal indication of anger. It was in his hard stare and the steel grip he had on her arm that Juliana realized the truth of Tavington’s words. He was in complete control, and he would not hesitate to remind her of that fact.

Tavington finally let go of Juliana’s arm, and she left him alone in the parlor. As he watched her go, Tavington could not stop the smile that was forming on his lips. What a fortunate turn of events for him. Juliana was the result of Harris’s dalliance with a slave. Now he could really make the most out of having her in his possession. Her lineage increased her value to him exponentially. Harris had been a prominent figure around South Carolina. Juliana’s existence would allow Tavington to effectively trample the memory of Harris by exposing a secret that Harris’s family had probably tried to keep under lock and key. Tavington was almost giddy with the prospect of what he could do with this knowledge. It was what Harris deserved. He didn’t deserve to leave behind a memory that people celebrated, as a martyr. With Juliana, Tavington would be able to see that Harris’s demise continued beyond death.