Innocence Lost

Chapter Seven

Later that afternoon, Anne sat alone on a bench in the garden. Mrs Sizemore's seamstress had measured her for three new gowns; two everyday dresses, and one formal gown in the latest fashion. During the fitting, while Anne was changing into a sample gown the seamstress had brought, she'd overheard the woman asking Mrs Sizemore who she was. Though the women conversed in low tones attempting to keep Anne from hearing them, Mrs Sizemore's reply, Colonel Tavington's whore, had made her ears burn in humiliation. The rest of the fitting had been uncomfortable and awkward for Anne and she'd been glad when it was finally over.

With all that had happened in the last few days, Anne hadn't had time to think about her parents' deaths. But now, as she sat watching the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over the Sizemore's large flower garden, she burst into tears as the cold realization that she'd never see her parents again finally sank in. She prayed that their deaths had been swift, that they hadn't suffered long; anything else was too horrible to contemplate. As unwanted mental pictures filled her mind, her tears turned into gulping sobs. Anne had never felt so alone in her life.

"Are you all right, Mrs Martin?"

Anne looked up to see Captain Bordon standing in front of her, his brow furrowed in concern. Wiping away her tears, she nodded. "I was just thinking about my p-parents..." she said, gulping again. "And my husband."

"I understand," he said, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "I'm so sorry about what happened."

"It's not your fault," she assured him, putting a gentle hand on his arm. "You were no com command, nor did you give the orders." Indicating the empty space on the bench next to her, she said, "Please join me."

After seating himself beside her, Bordon said, "I want you to understand that if there had been anything I could have done to prevent it, I would have done so."

"I know that, Captain," she said.

"Please call me James," he said.

"James," Anne said. "And you must call me Anne."

"A beautiful name for a beautiful woman."

"Tell me about yourself, James," she said. "Where are you from?"

"Halifax," he said. "That's in Yorkshire."

"Are you married?"

"I was," he said, looking away from her for a moment. "My wife died in childbirth six years ago, along with our son."

"I'm so sorry," Anne said. "You must miss them very much."

"Every day of my life," he said heavily.

Anne took his hand, squeezing it gently. For a long moment they sat together in silence, gazing into one another's eyes.

"Ah, there you are." Anne and Bordon turned to see Tavington quickly striding over to them.

Bordon stood up quickly, hoping that Tavington hadn't noticed Anne holding his hand.

Tavington, however, had eyes only for Anne. Reaching out, he quickly pulled her to her feet. He took her hand and began to lead her urgently to the house.

Anne looked over her shoulder helplessly at Bordon as Tavington led her away.

Bordon gave her a sympathetic look, silently mouthing, "I'll talk to you later."

Tavington did not say a word to Anne as he hurried her into the house and to their bedroom. On their way up the stairs, they encountered Mrs Sizemore, who frowned in disapproval as they passed. Anne blushed, but Tavington completely ignored the older woman.

As soon as the bedroom door had closed behind them, Tavington let go of her hand. He quickly removed his jacket, followed by his neck cloth. "I need a drink," he said as he moved to pour himself some wine from a crystal decanter that sat on a table near the bed. "Would you like any?"

"No, thank you," Anne said primly.

He downed the wine in one gulp, setting the glass down with a loud clink. He turned to gaze out the window, looking at the dragoon encampment, which was several hundred feet from the house. For several moments he stood silently brooding, almost forgetting that Anne was in the room.

"What's wrong?" she asked, unable to bear the silence any longer. She moved to stand behind him, following his gaze out the window.

Tavington did not answer, but abruptly turned and took Anne into his arms. His mouth descended to nip her neck as he pushed her back. As they both tumbled backwards onto the bed, his hands worked urgently to remove her clothing. She did likewise, her hands moving deftly to unbutton his breeches.

Soon, they were naked together under the covers. For a long interval, Tavington dothiothing more than to hold Anne in his arms, kissing her softly, then with growing ardor. Anne caressed his back, reaching to loosen his hair. His lips began to trail down her neck, where he briefly paused to kiss and suckle each breast in turn. She sighed as diffuse sensations of pleasure began moving through her body. His lips moved inexorably downward, kissing her stomach, then her hips.

Anne was alarmed as she felt his lips move to her inner thighs. "What are you doing?" she said as she realized where he was going. He'd never done this before. She attempted to scoot away from his probing mouth, to no avail. "Please, you can't do this!"

Tavington roughly pried her legs apart to continue. "Lie still," he hissed. After Anne reluctantly obeyed him, he said in a gentler voice, "Trust me, you will enjoy this." Snorting in derision, he continued, "I take it that Martin never pleasured you in this manner. It is a good thing, then, that I am here to educate you." Without another word, he bent his head to continue what he'd started.

As Anne felt his warm breath on her, she stiffened as she prepared to endure this latest indignity. She felt him gently spread her apart with two fingers, then her hips twitched in surprise as a bolt of sudden pleasure emanated from her center as his tongue found its target. "Oh!" She hadn't expected this.

A low chuckle erupted from Tavington as he felt Anne jump. He continued with his ministrations, moving forward when he felt Anne's hand push his head further into her. Soon, Anne began to buck as his insistent tongue flicked relentlessly. Finally, she raised herself, pushing hard into Tavington's face. "William! William! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, sweet William!" Sated, she flopped back bonelessly onto the bed.

After a moment, she pulled Tavin upn up to recline upon her. "Please, William," she begged. "Now!"

He immediately responded, entering her swiftly. As he began to thrust, he was mildly surprised when she began answering his every thrust with one of her own. Tavington forgot all about the humiliating meeting with Cornwallis as he realized that Anne was freely giving her whole self to him for the first time.

Later, Tavington sat up in bed with Anne's head on his chest. He was at peace for the first time in a long time. "Thank you," he said softly as he brought Anne's hand to his mouth to kiss.

"For what?"

"For helping me to forget about this damned war for a little while," he said.

"I wish I could forget," she said, looking up at him. Moving to sit up next to him, she continued, "You know that I can never forgive you for what you did in Pembroke."

He met her intense gaze head on. "I don't expect you to understand," he said, reaching out to caress her face. "I did what I thought necessary to help end this war sooner rather than later and I will not apologize for my actions."

"I'll never understand," she said. Nevertheless, she allowed him to draw her back in to his arms.

"You do know that I will never be able to return to England after all this is over," he told her, as he gently rubbed her back. "I am the one who does Lord Cornwallis' dirty work for him, things he wants done but is too cowardly to accept responsibility for himself."

"Why do you do it?"

"It is my duty," he said simply. "But it would help if Cornwallis had some appreciation for what I've done for him. When the war is over, he will be able to go home a hero, his hands clean."

"I take it that your meeting with him didn't go well."

"You could say that," he said, with a harsh laugh. "He is just like my father was; nothing is ever good enough for him."

"Tell me about your father," Anne said.

"He gambled away our family fortune, then died of drink and left my mother and I with
nothing," Tavington told her. "A wastrel -- that is the kindest thing I can say about him."

"I'm sorry," Anne said.

"Let's not talk about him any longer," Tavington said, as he eased Anne back down on the bed. "We have better things we could be doing."