AN: This will be my second story about The Patriot and especially about the dashing Colonel Tavington.
I am curious to what you all think and if you have any ideas for the story or any suggestions then please let me know!

Chapter 1: An introduction to the Martin family

Together they walked of the porch, she was wearing a white dress with corset, petticoats and short white sleeves (like Snow White in the movie Mirror mirror) and he was wearing his usual working clothes. She had very long light brown hair with shades of red. Some parts were braided and neatly put together on the back of her head but most of her hair was hanging loosely and falling down to her waist.
Benjamin Martin was walking slightly behind his oldest daughter who was now almost 23. As he looked at her he felt a father's pride of how beautiful she had become. Even though they adopted her when she was already 15, it had always felt as if she was one of their own. She was their oldest daughter and when his wife Elizabeth had died five years ago, the children turned to their oldest sister for motherly advice and comfort. Eliza had suffered a hard blow from the death of the only mother she had ever known, but she wanted to stay strong for the children so she could be their rock. Elizabeth had been her mother for 5 years before she died from lung disease and Benjamin had been her father. They never treated her any different than their own children. Their life was peaceful and quiet except for Gabriel leaving to fight the war in the continental army, which was now two years ago. And little did they know the war was almost at their doorstep which would change their lives irreversibly…

"Did you remember to wrap the presents?" he asked his oldest daughter as he followed her out of the house.

"Yes father" she answered him as they continued to walk of the porch towards her black horse.

The stable boy was holding the reins whilst she climbed on top of it and put on her yellow cloak and gloves.

Her father sighed. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go on side saddle?" he said as he noticed how unfeminine this looked on her, especially since she was wearing her only party dress which her aunt Charlotte gave her when they visited her in Charles Town.

"You know I would rather not" she chuckled at him.

He frowned at her, his face showing signs of worry "Maybe Joseph should go with you to escort you, just until you reach…"

"Until I reach the Garrick's plantation and then escort me back after the party? Father do not worry so much it is only two miles from here! And I will be home before dark" she tried to reassure him.

"Well, okay, but be careful and remember to thank mister and misses Garrick for their generous invitation and also do not forget that you're a 22 year old woman, so do not take their boys for some tree climbing this time okay?"

"Alright, it's time to go father, I will see you tonight, I love you and I'll be back soon because I did not even want to go to this party" she said as she took the reins to take off.

"You should be thankful they still invite you after your last visit when you went for a swim in the river by their house!" he called after her as he let out a small laugh at the memory of how clumsy she ended up in the river whilst trying to catch a fish.

"I was just trying to cool off!" she replied, but she was now too far off for him to hear what she said. But he was sure it was some sassy remark since she was a real smart mouth, though never disrespectful to anyone.


When Eliza had just reached the road which led past her house, she saw a brown horse, but no rider, next to the little creak surrounded by trees. This was strange. The horse did definitely not belong to their farm for she would recognize him if he did. She looked around the trees and bushes to see if anyone was there, perhaps just a stranger passing by and the horse needed to drink.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" she called out to check if the horse had an owner.

When no reply came, Eliza got off her horse to see what was going on. This horse was obviously a war horse, it was wearing the colors of the British army so Eliza slowly drew herself nearer to the creak. Reluctantly she let herself slide down near the creak and walked around some trees until she saw a pair of boots behind one of them.

She slightly forced her head to move so she could see what was behind the tree. She was startled by the sight.

A man was lying on the ground, a redcoat even. He was bleeding through his white linen shirt and waistcoat. His hair was long and a darker color brown than her own hair. Judging by the look on his face he was in great pain.

"Oh my God…" she whispered