Smoke, dirt, cannon fire, the sound of Muskets firing from every which way was all Colonel Tavington could see and hear around him. Upon his Ginger Mare, he charged head-on into the raging battle in front of him and his legion of Dragoons following closely behind. With his arm outstretched, and sword in hand, the last thing his enemies saw was the bright glint of steel in the afternoon sun and the look of pure rage etched deep into the Colonels face. Whenever the Colonel was on the field he became almost like an animal, a monster, killing every unlucky soul in his path. It was what he was good at, what he felt he succeeded at and could prove himself as a worthy enough individual to his superior officer, General Lord Cornwallis.

Tavington believed his sole worth was what chaos lay before him on the field. A thought crossed his mind, what would his Father think of him if he could see him now? Would he be proud of me? Or am I just becoming as much of a brutal Monster he was? Tavington shook his head and spurred his horse on faster towards his next target. Raising his sword in the air once again, reeling his arm back ready to forcefully swing downwards toward a young blue coat who stood a few feet away from him. The loud and deep clunks of horse hooves and blur of red and green uniforms caught the young man's eye. Turning and standing his ground, he had no time to flee from the enemy. All the young soldier could do was stand there frozen in place and wear a look of utter horror on his face with wide eyes and gaping mouth. Tavington, ready to plunge his sword hard and deep into the boy's chest, hesitated for a moment. Even though the thick smoke of gunpowder and the stripes of dirt smeared across the boys face, he couldn't help but notice that the boy had a strikingly eerie resemblance to himself when he was a young man. His eyes were in parallel to his own, a blue so bright his eyes almost looked white. His hair hung loose in stringy brown ringlets around his pale face.

Colonel Tavington almost lost his breath and his face softened, then he did the unthinkable. The young soldier could hardly believe what he was witnessing when he noticed the Colonel slow his horse so that he was almost at a halt. The two both stared at one another, not sure what to do next as the rest of the Dragoons passed them in a blur of madness. The soldier wanted to do something, this was his chance. He could shoot the Colonel, it would have been so easy, but he couldn't. His fear was too great and the Colonel's action took him aback. Colonel Tavington stared as if he had suddenly been placed into a trance, memories from his childhood came flooding back to him in a way that made tears spring into his eyes. The look of terror on the boy's face reminded him of the way he used to look at his Father before being struck hard for disobeying him. Or from protecting one of his younger sisters from his wild flying fist, caused by another one of his rages when he would come home late from a local tavern, gambling away their fortune and drinking profusely.

One memory had stood out in Tavingtons mind the most, it had been around the time he was thirteen. Young William had witnessed his Father dragging his mother by her long and wildly curly auburn hair. She was being punished yet again by his Father for questioning him about a letter they had received that day from an obvious lover/mistress his Father frequently visited in the late hours of the night. William's mother had been unaware of his Father's mistress until that day.

"You Bastard George! You damned Bastard, she is pregnant with your child? How could you? And I thought it impossible for you to disgrace our family name anymore then you already have. I despise you. You drink and gamble and bed every woman other than your own wife, and above all… You hurt my" his mother strained" children, you beat them till they are black and blue and begging for your mercy." She spat, her tears staining the front of her dress and fist balled tightly to her sides. Tavington remembered hiding behind a wall that led into the sitting room his Father and Mother had been quarreling in. His little sister Priscilla tightly held on to his left arm, and would not loosen her grip in fear their Father would catch them eavesdropping in on their conversation. She knew William would protect her if thier Father were to try and harm her.

"William, I'm scared. What is Father hurts Mother and she doesn't wake up this time?" The nine-year-old little girl worriedly said in a hushed tone. William only took his sister into a full embrace and tucked her head into his chest, gently petting her brown locks in an attempt to comfort her.

"Shhh Priscilla. That's not going to happen. Just stay quiet."

Before their Mother could say another word both children could hear their Father curse at their Mother followed by a loud whacking noise they recognized as their Mother being slapped across the face. Sarah (their Mother) toppled to the ground from the aggressive force from her husband. She hadn't had time to act before her breath was taken away as she delivered a swift kick from George's large black boot into her abdomen. William without a second thought pushed his little sister to the side and ran into the sitting room to try and put a stop to his Father's madness. William being the eldest child out of five other children in the family, believed it was his duty to protect his siblings and their poor Mother from George's unrelenting abuse.

"Stop, leave her alone!" William shouted as he tackled George into a sitting chair, causing the chair to tip backward with William falling directly on top of his Father, triggering him to give out a large grunt from Williams weight.

"What did I tell you," George paused to throw William off of him so that he now laid on the wooden floor beside him. Geroge quickly stood up from his spot before his son had a chance to get up and attempt something against him. Grabbing his eldest son by the collar of his shirt he did not hesitate to send his right fist to the side of his head, nearly causing William to lose consciousness. He knew he couldn't slip into an unconscious state, he had to stay up and alert for when his Father would try to go after the others and his Mother.

"Stay down!" George barked loudly so that his booming voice echoed through the room. William tried propping himself up, but the rough blow he took to his face prevented him from doing such. All he could do was watch from the floor as his Mother was now being dragged away, George had a fist full of her hair a tugged hard so that she was kicking and screaming. She desperately swatted his hand away with her own but he refused to release the tight grip he had on her. William looked towards where he has last been hiding with Priscilla, he noticed her peeking out from behind the wall, her eyes wide, filled with tears and her doll Claire resting under her arm. William prayed to God that she would stay where she was and not make a sound, so when he got her attention he lifted a hand signaling her to keep behind the wall and out of sight. He knew it would destroy him to see Priscilla be met with one of their Father's regular punishments for getting in his way of trying to stop him from carrying out the abuse towards another. Instead of going after his Father, William finally got to his hands and knees and quickly crawled over to his frightened sister who now buried her head between her knees and sobbed loudly. All the two could do was wait in the downstairs while their other sibling hid in their rooms, till it was over. William felt useless as usual, he knew he could never go against his father, he was much too large and the fear of being beaten to death by his Father always loomed in the back of his mind. Causing him to at times stay in his place, hidden away safely from George's uncontrollable anger, for fear for his life. Priscilla and William held one another and closed their eyes, imagining themselves in a better place, a place where Geroge was someone they could look up to in life and be loved and respected by. And a Mother who could leave her home and attend the town's weekly church service without worrying about others noticing and questioning the usual bruises she wore on her face. Accompanied by a permanent scar she donned from the time George sent his fist into her mouth, causing her teeth to slice through her lip. Georges's destructive acts would continue to go on for only a short time after that day, then William would decide to put an end to his Father's abuse once and for all.

Tavington quickly snapped out of his trance-like state when he suddenly felt a sharp shooting pain quickly spread through his upper arm, looking down to his arm he realized where the source of the pain was coming from. The young soldier in front of him had finally decided to make his move and raise his musket with a shaky grip firing it towards where Tavington was sitting atop his horse. William took his free hand letting his fingers dip carefully into his wound. Retracting his hand from the wound he looked down and saw the bloody substance, resembling the colour of strawberry jam which coated the tips his digits. Anger took the place of his childhood memories and initial shock from the ball of the soldier's musket grazing his arm. With blood-soaked fingers William reached for the hilt of his favored weapon of war, his sword. The same sword that had slaughtered hundreds of poor souls from many a battlefield in the past, was now being unsheathed with a sharp ringing noise from the steel sliding against its Scabbard. The young soldier began fumbling with the ramrod of his Musket, ready to shove it hard and deep into its barrel, tightly pressing the gunpowder below. It was much too late for the soldier's desperate efforts, for Tavington had without a second thought already sliced down the front of the boy's chest, making him let out a scream in anguish. A quick jabbed of Tavingtons sword to the Bluecoats's stomach and now the boy had fallen defenselessly to the hard dirt covered ground from under his black scuffed hide boots. Tavington continued to watch for only a few moments before feeling a sense of anger towards himself and the violent act he had just carried out on the young boy who has such a striking resemblance to himself.

I'm just like him. I'm just like my Father.

The Colonel decided there was no sense in watching the young boy's life being slowly and painfully snuffed out like a candle flame, before him. Instead, he gave a jolting squeeze to the sides of his Mare and pushed onwards through the seemingly endless sea of both Red coats and Bluecoats.

Hours had passed since the start of the days battle and Tavington wanted nothing more than to return to camp and shut himself out from the rest of the world and the people around him for the day. During times when Tavington would have such traumatizing thoughts from his past he usually took his anger and hurt out on anything and anyone around him, but today, today Tavington wanted to do something different. Something he only did in the privacy of his tent, while his fellow officers trained, ate or enjoyed the company of one another. He wanted to cry. He knew he wouldn't have to see or report to anyone for the remainder of the day, and Annie would still be most likely after two weeks later from her accident, be bedridden with her broken leg. As much as he would have loved to dote upon her and give her some needed company to soothe her boredom, he wouldn't, he couldn't. Not today.

"Bloody good job today Will. Today's Skirmish was indeed a successful one. I anticipate that Cornwallis will be pleased with our efforts." Tavington heard Banastre boast from beside both himself and Bordon as they rode back towards camp. Banastre noticed Tavington said nothing back, and instead pressed on with a hard, stern look on his face. He didn't even bother to divert his attention towards him. Though Tavington usually looked quite stern most of the time, Banastre could sense something was troubling him, he'd known Tavington for so long now that he was always able to pick up on his subtle cues of anger, or sadness. It had most certainly not been the first time either Banastre and Bordon had noticed the certain emptiness in Tavington stone cold blue eyes. Unbeknown to Tavingon, on a couple of occasions both officers had heard the pathetic sounds of Tavingtons cries from outside his tent when he thought no one was around, or during late nights when he believed everyone to be asleep and there would be no passing soldiers outside his tent. Tavington would let his muffled cries out, headfirst deep into his pillow so no one would hear, or so he thought. Banastre or Bordon would never dream of confronting him about his evident sadness. Both Officers knew they wouldn't know what to say to him even if they did confront him, they found the possible situation of questioning him to be extremely awkward, the thought of the leader of the Green Dragoons expressing any other emotion other than his usual outbursts of anger towards them, to be most uncomfortable. So they decided the best thing to do was to keep it to themselves.

"I believe we should do a little bit of celebrating tonight. A nice pint of Madera sounds lovely right about now. What do you say, William? Will you join us tonight, it wouldn't be the same without your company, besides it was you who helped us to victory." Bordon smiled, in an attempt to raise Tavingtons spirits and bring him around from whatever thoughts he was currently lost in.

"Here, Here!" Banastre shouted.

"And what makes you think I wouldn't join tonight's little celebration. Why am I sensing certain desperation for me to attend with you two and the rest of the Men?" Tavington couldn't help but sneer in response.

"Who said we were desperate? In all honesty Will, you seem as though something is bothering you of late. I just hope you don't let yourself get in the way of having a bit of fun, that's all. " Banastre admitted, careful not to strike a nerve with his Commanding Officer.

"Nothing is wrong, don't bother worrying yourselves over something that doesn't need to be worried over."

"Is it to do with Miss Martin?"

"No."

"Well come on then Will it has to be someth-"

"Do either of you bloody Lobcocks listen to a word I tell you? I've already told you I am perfectly fine, please cease to press the matter any further or there won't be any celebrating tonight and instead ill replace your festivities with some evening training." Tavington snapped at the two men as if he were scolding two young children. Both Bordon and Banastra decided the wouldn't press the matter any further and decided to shut their mouths for the remainder of the ride back to camp.

Tavington road ahead of Banastre and Bordon and came to a halt a few yards away to where a soldier waited to retrieve and untack the Colonel's horse. Climbing down from atop his mares back, he hadn't even bothered to thank the soldier as he usually did and instead removed his helmet and began quickly walking in the opposite direction. Tavington, stuck in the thick fog of his own mind and his only mission to get to Doctor Hawkes tent to tend to his fresh wound. Then promptly return to his tent for some much-needed privacy for a while, had almost caused him to overlook and speed past the familiar brown-haired woman standing unsteadily from a few feet away. He stopped and snapped his attention to the voice which came from beside him.

"Oh William you're back, look!" the girl squealed loudly, followed by a loud shriek before almost falling face-first into the ground, but was caught just in time by William himself.

"Whoa, whoa Annie! Please do be careful, what are you doing out of your cot? You should be laying down and letting your leg fully recover, my dear. You'll only hurt yourself, you're not strong enough yet." Tavington grunted in concern as he carefully propped Annie back into a standing position, never letting go of her shoulders ensuring she wouldn't fall and seriously injure herself all over again.

"Oh please, William" she couldn't help but give a small giggle " I'll be just fine. I can't stay in that cot any longer or I'll be certain to go mad with boredom. Please don't be angry with me." Annie stated and she repositioned herself.

"I'm not angry with you, I'm concerned. Are you sure you are ready to take on walking again? Perhaps I should speak with Doctor Hawke about this, I'm sure he will protest against it."

"Yes I can assure you I will be just fine, I told you, it will do me good to be out of that tent. It's so refreshing to see the outside once again, I almost forgot how beautiful this country is," She beamed while squinting from the sunlight that was now invading her eyes. "Speaking with Doctor Hawke will do neither good for you or me anyways," Annie paused to show Tavington what had been resting under the pit of her arms." Doctor Hawke instructed me to use these crutches in the meantime while my leg finishes healing. I admit, he had suggested to me that another week in bed may be beneficial. But I can not stand to do so."

"Very well. But do not overexert yourself, if you do I'll have to inform Doctor Hawke for your own good, I would hate to see you in any more pain. It nearly killed me to see you in such a state when I had first brought you hear." Tears were starting to well in the Colonel's eyes, all the emotions from the day's events had started to push him over the edge and his sadness could almost no longer be set aside and ignored. Tavington noticed Annie's eyebrows slightly begin to knit together and she wore a confused look on her face, mixed with sudden concern. Tavington realized he had shown his deep-rooted emotions to much already and blinked a couple of times to push back the tears, and soften his facial expressions hoping Annie wouldn't question him. But she was not oblivious, she instantly knew something was troubling him.

"William, what's wrong? You look upset," then a worrisome thought occurred within her."What happened out there on that field" She question as both her hands then took each of his arms. Tavington gave out a wince of pain and his face twisted in agony from his fresh wound Annie hadn't even noticed right away. Noticing his obvious discomfort and a warm sensation under her right palm begin to form, she pulled back her hands back to herself and gasped upon seeing fresh blood coating her hand.

"Oh my good Lord, are you alright William? What happened to you out there? We need to get you to Doctor Hawke straight away. Oh I'm so sorry," she blurted out as Tavington continued to grimace at his extremely sore arm, he had nearly forgotten about his wound upon encountering Annie only moments ago. "I didn't mean to hurt you, I did not know you had been wounded. Come with me, William. I'll inform Doctor Hawke of your injury." Annie finished.

Taking William's large dirtied hand in hers, she gave it a quick tug encouraging him to follow along inside the tent with her at once.

"Doctor Hawke, Doctor Hawke!" Annie called out. Doctor Hawke was bent over his writing desk, seemingly writing a letter, or journaling the status of some injuries of Men who would be staying in his care, his hands were covered in blood as he carefully tried not to transfer the thick liquid to paper. Doctor Hawke straightened himself and curiously turned his head to see what was the matter. He knew from her voice that is was Annie right away. He and the young girl had spent two weeks together in the presence of each other and during those two weeks Annie had inevitably ended up becoming one of the Doctor's close companions.

"Yes Annie? What seems to be the trouble? Don't tell me your leg is giving you trouble already, what did I tell you about perhaps keeping your leg in its fracture box for another week. I'm afraid I don't have time for this Dear, the tent is nearly full of Men who need our urgent care." Doctor Hawke stated. The Tent was bustling with men laid out on tables, cots and even the ground due to the lack of extra cots. The days battle had proven to be a rough one for not only Colonel Tavington, but for many other soldiers. Annie tried training her attention on the Doctor standing just ahead of her. Though she had spent her time entirely in the Doctor's tent and had seen many terrible injuries and amputations alike, she still could not bare the sounds and sights around her at almost all times.

"It's not me who is in need of your help, Doctor. I'm afraid its Colonel Tavington. He has been shot you see." Annie urgently explained to her new friend.

"It's quite alright Annie. Doctor Hawke, please don't trouble yourself, the ball of the musket had only grazed my arm, not fully penetrating it. I just require a tourniquet and quickly, also something to sterilize the area, I can handle the rest." Tavington instructed to the older gentleman. Doctor Hawke gave a quick nod and grabbed some dressings along with alcohol and a rag. Approaching the two he handed the much-needed supplies to Annie, as he did so he began to instruct her as to how she could tend to the Colonel's wound.

"I'm going to take a look at the wound, Annie. If it is only minor then I will leave it up to you to clean and wrap the Colonel's arm. I would have someone do it for the Colonel but all of my other assistants are preoccupied attending to the other soldiers. Take this rag here and douse it in as much alcohol as you can, you will want to make sure that his wound is thoroughly cleaned. You see a wound through any clothing will be more prone to cause an infection due to the clothes material. Once cleaned take these here bandages and tightly wrap the wound to stop the bleeding. Colonel," Doctor Hawke turned his attention to Tavington, please proceed to remove your jacket for me so I may get a better look."

Tavington only nodded and asked Annie for her assistance in unbuttoning the buttons of his jacket and carefully peel back the sleeves of his jacket. His white cravat and blouse slightly stained with sweat from the recent battle and stifling Carolina heat, was now exposed. Doctor Hawke gently pulled back the hole in his shirt to reveal the bloody mess underneath. Examining the wound a small smile crossed his lips and he gave an approving nod.

"Perfect. Beautiful. It just appears to be a minor graze you'll be dealing with Miss Martin. Now, there is no need in wasting any more time, take a seat on the ground here Colonel and Miss Martin you may begin getting to work on that arm."

"Of course Doctor. Sit William." Annie ordered to Tavington just as the Doctor turned away to aid a man who was beginning to thrash about, as two of the Doctor's assistants held the man down tightly. A dull blood covered saw was held to the soldier's leg and was now being tugged back and forth, piercing through the skin and hitting the bone, creating a nauseating sound that caused Annie to double over and place a hand to her mouth. She closed her eyes tightly and tried blocking out the disgusting sounds coming from saw coming in contact with the soldier's bone.

"Oh, God." She muffled through her hand, swallowing hard she desperately tried not to vomit. Try as hard as she may, she could not contain the hot, and most sour acid liquid that turned her stomach and began creeping up her throat and pooled into her tightly closed mouth. Before Tavington could even help escort her out of the tent entrance, Annie had already ran past him, going headfirst and hunched over through the tent flaps. Once outside Annie unpursed her lips and released her throw up into the grass, she noted the horrible splashing noise it had made upon hitting the ground. As Tavingtons one hand took hold of her forearm and the other placed on her back, she extended an arm in an attempt to push him away from her. She was embarrassed and made sure that she was turned away enough from him so he could not see the mess she was making, although it had been a little too late for that now.

"Annie please, I don't mind. I want to help you. I've seen much worse during battle, you vomiting isn't enough to disgust me. Are you al-right? I'm sorry you had to witness that."

"I've seen missing limbs before, but," She coughed loudly. The saw cutting into his leg, the- that awful sound. I can't bare to witness such a thing any longer. My boredom isn't the only thing that has made me wish to leave the care of the doctor tent. I can't spend another day in there and witness such awful things. You understand?" Annie said breathlessly, she now plopped herself down and sat wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and spreading any reminisce of her throw up into the grass.

"I understand Annie. You don't have to go back there if you do not wish to," he paused when an idea came to his attention, he tried to keep his lingering inappropriate thoughts pushed into the back of his mind. " Therefore you may stay in my quarters. I can assure you that it will be a much more pleasant stay." He gently cooed, whilst kneeling down to Annie's side to comfort her.

Me? Staying in Williams's tent? Sleeping in his company every night? It wouldn't be inappropriate, would it?

The thought of staying in the Colonel's company, in his tent, alone, made her nervous. She would of course receive her own cot to sleep in during the night, wouldn't she? And what about her privacy? Mariah usually was the one to help bathe her with a wet cloth from time to time and assist her with a change of clothing, shielded away from the eyes of the other soldiers who were amongst her. Would Colonel Tavington step in and insist on carrying out Mariah's duties? Maybe she could stay with Mariah, it would be more convenient after all, she thought to herself. Tavington noticed her apprehension.

"Colonel I- William. Perhaps it would be best for me to stay with Mariah. She had, of course, assisted me with my personal needs, such as bathing and changing and…" She trailed off, she didn't want to mention the fact that Mariah had also assisted her with relieving herself, which had most certainly been the most embarrassing and unsettling thing for her to go through. "What I'm trying to say is that perhaps it would be more appropriate if-"

"Annie, I can easily have Mariah come to my tent when you are in need of personal assistance. I would of course, leave you alone with Mariah to have the decency you require." Tavington cut her off, he felt sorry for the poor girl just by the look of shame on her face.

"I thank you, William, that would be much appreciated indeed. I accept your generous offer," Annie replied with a smile of relief. "Now let's not waste any more time shall we, we don't want to risk the possibility of an infection with your arm. Come." Annie insisted, the Colonel complied and took a seat beside her. Without a second thought, Tavington began to fumble with his cravat and slowly remove each arm from his blouse.

"Wha-what are you doing William?" Annies's voice shook. She had never seen a man undress before her in her life and the thought of seeing Williams's bare chest made her tremble. Tavington just scoffed at her remark.

"Well Miss Martin, you can't tend to my arm whilst I am fully clothed, now can you?" He teased her, and let out a laugh. Annie didn't respond to his teasing right away.

She instead began staring awkwardly at the exposed flesh from his toned torso peek out from underneath the loose hanging white fabric and his blouse that now rested around his neck.

"Of course," She gave a nervous laugh. "I uhm, here let me take that off for you." Annie motioned towards his blouse.

Tavington couldn't help but feel amused by her innocence. It had been two years since they had last come in such sexual contact with one another (Though dressing a wound was hardly sexual in nature) Seeing his bare chest sent Annie's thoughts into a place she had sometimes visited over the course of two years, thoughts she would not dare admit to anyone, with the exception of Tavington since they were strictly about him. Now removing the remainder of his blouse from his neck and up over his head, he was fully exposed to her. She couldn't help it, the sight of him in such a state started a fire within her womanhood. Instead of proceeding to soak the rag the Doctor had given to her along with Alcohol, she slowly extended her arm and placed a small soft hand to his chest. Tavington watched her in admiration and such anticipation, he smiled from the look of excitement and awe spread across her face, which was accompanied by the reddening of her cheeks.

Annie took the tips of her fingers and playfully curled them around the strands of hair that lightly covered the spot between his pecs. His chest was warm, and almost flawless except for the few battle scars that resembled streaks of lightning along his abdomen and biceps. Tavington could feel his own excitement begin to stir within him, when he felt Annie trail her hand from his chest, all the way down to the waistline of his pants. Tavington gave a sharp inhale and his eyes slightly widened as he watched her finger one of the buttons of his pants between her thumb and index finger.

"Annie did you manage al-right?" Annie nearly jumped out of her skin and retracted her hand with lighting speed, back to her side when she heard the sound of Doctor Hawkes voice. She took her hand and nervously brought it to her neck to begin scratching an invisible itch.

"Oh Doctor Hawke you scared me!" Annie gave a strained laugh, like she was trying to hide something from the Doctors knowledge.

"Yes, I have just begun to soak the rag, see." Annie held up the bottle of Alcohol and rag in front of her for the Doctor to study.

"Well don't take too long now Annie. Get to it" Doctor Hawke replied before retreating back where he came from.

Annie let out a sigh of relief and couldn't help but laugh when she noticed the look of amusement on Tavingtons face. Pushing her improper thoughts to the back of her mind and discontinued her inappropriate actions towards Tavington, she gave a quick shake of her head and decided to remove the cork from the lid of the alcohol filled bottle.

"Excuse me William, it was quite bold of me to… Well I don't know what I was trying to do." Annie said, while tipping the bottle of Alcohol upside down into the rag, allowing the material to become soaked with the pungent liquid.

"There is no need to excuse yourself Annie. It's perfectly al-right. If I must be completely transparent with you, I would have very much enjoyed seeing where you would have gone next. I don't know about you Annie, but I've spent some sleepless nights with the thoughts of what had transpired between the two of us in your aunt Charlotte's home, in that bedroom when it had just been the two of us, alone. To satisfy myself with the thought of your body pressed against mine, our lips and tongues dancing to the rhythm of our hearts nearly beating out of our chests… I…" He paused and gave a lustful smirk, he had a feeling that Annie knew exactly what he was trying to get at, judging by the immediate look of want and desire she expressed. She was practically squirming in her spot. Her thighs, unknowingly to Tavington, were now pressed tightly together. Her toes curling and uncurling within her shoes and stockings. She wanted to tell Tavington all the erotic thoughts she had envisioned during thier time apart from one another, aswell. But to keep herself from driving herself mad with an uncontrollable burning desire for him, she averted her gaze back to the rag that she subconsciously was gripping tightly onto.

"Don't you see what you are doing to me, William?" Annie asked, her voice in a hushed tone, with traces of ache and need. Tavington just laughed and placed his hand on hers which was now wet and dripping with alcohol.

"Come Annie… Let's get this wretched wound looked after now, hmm?"

"Of course."