I'm not giving up on this story yet! heehee

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“Miss Bostwick? Might I—have a word?”

Agnes turned, surprised, from where she had been arranging flowers in a small vase on her windowsill. Stanley stood in the doorway, looking rather flustered at being in his betrothed’s chambers. Her cool demeanor softened for a moment, and she made an effort to smile. The poor man. “Yes, Stanley, what is it?”

“I—well—” He gestured. “Is it proper for me to come in?” Stanley actually looked confused, and Agnes sighed.

“It’s perfectly all right.”

“Good.” He came closer and stopped stiffly about ten feet away. “As you know, Miss Bostwick, I am a soldier, and in times such as these my duty calls me to—”

“You’re going away.” It was a statement.

“Yes,” he said, looking surprised. “Yes, I am to report to Charles Town as soon as possible.”

“Very well.” She smoothed her skirts. “When do you return?” She had meant to ask “When do you leave”, but that would have appeared unseemly, and she really had no hard feelings for Stanley—she was simply a brusque person. Besides, he had already said “as soon as possible.”

“I’m not entirely sure...and—” he paused “—that leaves us with the, ah, somewhat delicate question of your lodgings, Miss Bostwick.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It would not be...er, proper...for you to remain here in the company of unmarried men, do you see?”

“I see.” Agnes frowned. “Where shall I go?”

“General Cornwallis and his elites are departing shortly for Boston, in Massachusetts Colony. I will be rejoining them within the month, I should think—you will accompany them.”

“But—”

Stanley laughed somewhat indulgently. “They are officers and gentlemen of the highest caliber, my dear Miss Bostwick. Rest assured that they will protect you from the colonial rabble.”

Agnes just smiled. She wouldn’t be able to explain if she tried. “Thank you, Stanley.”

He blushed lightly as he bent to kiss her hand. “I must bid you farewell now, Miss Bostwick. Until Boston.”

“Until Boston.”

-

They headed out two days later. Agnes sat rather uncomfortably in her side-saddle—the horse was ridiculously tall, perhaps fourteen hands, and she was not enjoying the sun. Damn these traveling dresses, she thought, annoyed, flicking the flies away from her hat. She didn’t mind getting dressed up, but wearing a corset to travel from South Carolina to Boston was the most foolish thing she’d ever heard of. She thought with mixed pity and admiration of the women of the old Elizabethan court, who must have followed their Queen all over the English countryside in their journeys to her numerous palaces.

General Cornwallis rode up ahead with his highest officers. The entire party was surrounded by Redcoats, acting as both display guards and actual soldiers. Agnes herself was about one-third of the way back, riding beside a young member of the Green Dragoons. He smiled at her and was very polite but not very talkative. She acted in kind toward him.

Toward late afternoon, Agnes realized that the landscape was never going to change. She was nodding off when a horse snorted beside her. Turning, she saw not the young Green Dragoon but the Colonel she had met at the first banquet.

“Colonel Tavington. What a pleasant surprise.”

His ice-green eyes traveled over her face and he smiled, one corner of his mouth twisting upward in an expression that she recognized from the banquet. “Well, well. I see you remember my name; now, let me see if I can remember yours.”

“You wouldn’t da—” she began jestingly.

“—forget such a lovely, charming—and, might I add, fascinating—lady as yourself? No, my dear Miss Bostwick, I...”

He leaned in closer, smirking. She glared at him when he added in a low tone, “...think my compliments have gone to your head.”

“I think not, Colonel. You see, being a woman, I have very little in my head, is that not what you said earlier?” She sat back and looked primly ahead.

“One of them does, it appears.” This time Tavington actually smiled. “I am afraid I must leave you now—General Cornwallis has requested my presence.”

“Not all the way to Boston, surely? A conversation would be a nice reprieve; I think my ‘woman’s head’ may explode if I must look at fields very much longer.” She grimaced, and Tavington smirked.

“We shall see.” Then he spurred his horse off toward the front of the line. Agnes watched him, bemused.

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