Chapter Three

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when she and Cecily began to dislike each other. Perhaps it had begun before either of them could remember, when they were just infants in their mothers' arms. It was instinctive, at least on Elizabeth's part, something she simply knew without having to think about it. She did not like Cecily Powell and barring extraordinary circumstances, never would. Dwelling on her old foe didn't pleasantly pass the time, but her sour thoughts occupied her until she and her godfather reached the doors of their destination. To anyone passing by it might have looked as if he held her arm out of courtesy, but his grip was so firm that Elizabeth felt as if he was trying to keep her from running away. Two butlers, motionless at their posts, snapped to attention and opened the double doors to a smaller, more intimate version of Middleton Place's grand dining room.

General Cornwallis sat at the head of the table, his typically sour look pasted on his face, while Elizabeth could see the back of his wife's head, seated at the foot. Thankfully the only people there were in the Powell, Cromwell, or Cornwallis families. Elizabeth didn't know if she could endure a larger crowd than the twelve people in front of her. Captain Bordon, a cousin to the Powells, sat chatting to Cecily, who turned her head curiously when Elizabeth and Colonel Tavington entered. Mary sat quietly in her chair, a guilty look on her face. Elizabeth avoided her eyes and the eyes of Cecily Powell and she and Colonel Tavington walked quickly to the two empty places at the table. Nodding at the servant who slid out her chair for her, Elizabeth slid into the seat across from Mary and Tavington took the chair across from Cecily. Mary's mother sat on Elizabeth's left.

"Why, young Lady Fairfax, how lovely to see you," Mrs. Powell said from her seat beside General Cornwallis's wife, "I wasn't aware that you had left England!"

"Yes, how interesting!" Cecily fairly purred, "I just heard the news a few moments ago. Where are your parents? I would love to say hello."

Cecily's large, inquisitive brown eyes flickered over her with interest. No one could ever call Cecily dull-witted, though on occasion Elizabeth wished that was the case. The other girl was curious, too curious, and kept looking significantly from Tavington back to his goddaughter as if they were hiding something. She felt her face grow hot as she tried to come up with a nonchalant reply.

"My parents are still at Fairfax Manor," she replied, airily waving a hand in a dismissive motion, "They have sent me to the Americas for a change of scenery, for my health you know. Fresh air."

"An excellent idea," Cecily replied with a nod, "You do look rather red, I am sure fresh air would be just the thing to help your complexion."

Before she could formulate a reply Elizabeth felt Colonel Tavington's hand snake across her thigh into her lap. His fingers quickly found her hand and squeezed it. Hard. Meanwhile, he didn't miss a beat in his quiet conversation with Captain Bordon.

"I…am sure I agree, Cecily," she said pleasantly, causing the vice on her hand to relax ever-so-slightly.

To her relief, General Cornwallis was silent about the matter and their food quickly started arriving. Elizabeth let her hand go limp and Tavington laced his fingers through hers underneath the table. The contact sent another rush of blood to her head. Elizabeth knew that he was only touching her to keep her from verbally lashing out at Cecily Powell, but at the same time the contact felt strange. She could feel the calluses on his hand. He wore gloves to ride but they could only do so much, and she found that she didn't mind terribly—it wasn't as though she wanted him to have the soft hands of a lady.

"Colonel Tavington, Captain Bordon tells me the new thoroughbreds are performing splendidly in the field," Cecily piped up eventually, after the clatter of silverware had died down.

"They are my lady," Tavington replied casually, "They're remarkably fast. I trust that you've enjoyed riding the ones housed here?"

"Of course," the youngest Powell said, turning to Elizabeth, "Colonel Tavington's quite gifted with horses. Pity you didn't come earlier this season Elizabeth, you just missed the last hunt he and his men organized for us here at Middleton Place."

Under the table Elizabeth clamped down on his hand like an iron vice and at the same time gave Cecily her sweetest smile. Mary watched the entire exchange with interest, her forgotten wineglass half raised to her mouth. It was only when Elizabeth shot her a pointed look that she sat it down on the table.

"Thank you," Tavington responded courteously, smoothing his thumb over the back of Elizabeth's hand, "We found it to be quite a nice diversion. Didn't we Bordon?"

"Hm? Quite right sir," Mr. Bordon agreed, briefly removing himself from his discussion with Cecily's parents before turning back to them.

Elizabeth relaxed and leaned back in her chair. Mary shot her a sympathetic smile and looked away, but Elizabeth could breathe easy for a moment. Some of her jealousy toward Cecily began to ebb. She could hear no affection or enthusiasm in Colonel Tavington's voice, only a vague courteousness toward Cecily.

The meal and conversation carried on for a time. Elizabeth picked at her food and pushed it around on her plate. It was extremely rich after what she'd been eating in the servant's quarters and on the ship, and being around Cecily always managed to make her lose her appetite. But how much had she missed, all those years back in England? Not that she didn't love being with her family, but part of her family was here. Was she really supposed to wait until the end of the war to see him? It didn't seem fair. After a time Colonel Tavington disentangled his fingers from hers. She let go and his hand slipped back to its place in his lap.

"Shall we retire to the drawing room?" General Cornwallis's wife suggested eventually, rising and nodding to her husband before the women got up and followed suit.

Elizabeth filed out without looking to Colonel Tavington and entered the lavishly decorated room. Paintings in gilded frames adorned the walls and plush sofas were everywhere. The whole thing was cozily lit by candles. She began to feel a bit more at ease. Drawing rooms like these were home to her, or at least they had been in the days when she was only expected to contribute a small amount to the conversation, and not expected to talk about suitors besides. The six women lounged about the couches in a half-circle with General Cornwallis's wife, but as Elizabeth expected, she was the preferred speaker of choice for the evening. The women were all eager to hear about the crossing from England. She thought that it wasn't fair that she had to lie about her journey for them, even if she did truly express how seasick she'd gotten. Still, they murmured and clucked at her like a group of sympathetic hens, and Elizabeth tried valiantly to make light of it. After a time the men came in, their faces a bit redder from drinking more wine, and Colonel Tavington sat down on the couch beside her at a more respectable distance than he'd maintained during their altercation that afternoon.

"I see you're enduring," he murmured, raising an eyebrow, "But I noticed you barely touched your dinner, are you feeling quite alright?"

"Yes Colonel, I'm fine," Elizabeth responded, quietly happy that he'd noticed.

It seemed as though things were going back to the way they were. He was still looking out for her, even though he was in dress uniform and they were an ocean away from home.

"The food is just…different from what I had grown accustomed used to," she elaborated, wanting to fill the sudden silence between them, "I couldn't really stand to eat much of anything with flavor on the ship…and they didn't have much of anything with flavor in the servants' quarters."

"Your mother would die if she heard what we were talking about. You know that, don't you?" He asked, sighing like a suffering martyr.

"I know."

She did her best to look stricken and he shook his head at her. Tavington turned, seemingly lost in thought as he surveyed the talkative groups of people scattered about the room. His blue eyes were even paler in the candle light. Elizabeth's own eyes curiously examined his profile until he looked back and caught her staring at him. She felt a blush creep over her features and she suddenly became very interested in the detailed lacework around her sleeve.

"Something else troubling you?"

"Well," Elizabeth admitted, recognizing the probing tone in his voice, indicative of further questioning, "I was just thinking that I've missed you. It's been two years since I've seen Mary, six since I've seen you. I miss the way things used to be, I mean. When I was a girl. I'm sorry, I'm being terribly forward"—

"Not at all. You're being terribly nostalgic. I've never taken you for the sentimental type."

"I had a good childhood, that's all. And then I come here and see you, and feel as though I'm a million years old and you haven't changed one bit."

"I've changed," Colonel Tavington stated, his expression darkening, "Trust me, Miss Fairfax."

"You're not going to call me that from now on, are you? My name's Elizabeth."

"Yes and my name's William," he countered, "But it's hardly appropriate. If you'll at least pretend to play along with the rules of civilized society while you're here I'll see what I can devise for your amusement later next week. We could go horseback riding in the country, perhaps. That is if you still enjoy it."

"I know you're trying to distract me," Elizabeth said with a smile, "But that sounds like a brilliant idea… aren't you tired of riding though, being in the Dragoons?"

"Of course not. I do have duties to attend to, though I get plenty of rest. This dinner party isn't what I'd call physically taxing. Speaking of rest, you'd better get some. It's getting rather late. I understand most everyone here likes to take an early breakfast and you'll need your strength if you're to tolerate everyone here."

"Will you be joining us?"

"I'm afraid not," Colonel Tavington replied, rising from the couch and holding out a hand to her, "I have business elsewhere tomorrow and I must speak with General Cornwallis tonight. Good night, Miss Fairfax."

"Good night, Colonel Tavington," Elizabeth replied with a nod, smiling across the room at Mary, who promptly waved goodbye.

Elizabeth made her way to where General and Mrs. Cornwallis were ensconced in a cream-colored couch.

"Are you retiring already, my dear?" Mrs. Cornwallis asked, "You must be worn out from the crossing over in that dreadful ship and all the excitement."

"Yes ma'am," Elizabeth replied, with a guilty glance at the general, who narrowed his eyes at her, "You're right. Good evening to you both."

"Goodnight," the general's wife replied, while General Cornwallis gave a sort of grumpy, muttering acknowledgement in her direction.

Elizabeth reflected, as she made her way to her room, that Colonel Tavington's presence had been enough to take her mind off of Cecily Powell…or at least enough to not let Cecily spoil the evening. Hopefully Cecily wouldn't set her sights on him. The thought made Elizabeth's stomach turn. She told herself that it wasn't jealousy, of course, but she couldn't bear the sight of them together. However, they'd shown no signs of being overly familiar so far, and her godfather hadn't indicated that he was fond of Miss Powell. Tavington spent all of his time talking to Elizabeth and she managed to be polite to Cecily. It had been a successful evening.