On My Own

Chapter One

Melissa Byers watched the South Carolina scenery pass, without really seeing it. Her ice blue eyes were glued to the fields, but her mind was elsewhere. She was thinking about how unfair it was that she was even here in the first place. It was 1778. She was seventeen and had grown up in London, England, with her mother. Her father had died when she was a baby, at least that was what she had always been told. Until two weeks ago, when her mother died suddenly. Then she discovered that her father was actually alive, yet he had left her mother when she was a baby. He was living in the colonies now, with the British Army. And since Melissa had no other close kin in England, she was being sent to America to live with her father. The father that had abandoned her, the one she'd never known. She really was not happy about this.

Melissa clutched the bag she held on her lap, which contained her most important belongings, including her diary, which she'd written in constantly on the long voyage from England to the colonies. She released the bag and reached up to play with the silver necklace around her neck. She had gotten it for her sixteenth birthday and considered it her good luck charm. She never took it off. So she was a little superstitious--so what?

They were approaching Fort Carolina. When the ship had docked in Charles Town, a man named Captain Borden had been there to meet her. He was her father's subordinate, and he was going to take her to the British headquarters at Fort Carolina, where her father would be waiting. Melissa didn't know why her father himself hadn't been there to meet her, but she counted it as yet another strike against him, yet more evidence that he didn't really care about her. With all the strikes against him, Melissa almost felt sorry for the man. She had enough anger towards him to last the rest of her life, and Melissa was not the sort of person one would want to have as an enemy. People wouldn't think she was mean. She looked innocent enough. She was small, almost to the point of being tiny. She stood at just barely five feet tall and was slender. Her straight, almost black hair hung halfway to her waist and framed her delicate, pale face. Her eyes were big, light blue, ice eyes, that could freeze out anyone with a single foreceful glare. But most people thought she was so sweet. That was Melissa. Fragile as a butterfly until someone pissed her off. Then she turned venomous.

They pulled through the gates and Captain Borden turned to her. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, getting out of the carriage. Borden carried her luggage and they went inside the fort. Almost immediately they met a tall man with serious brown eyes and a powdered wig. "You must be Melissa," he said. "Welcome. I am General Lord Cornwallis."

Melissa curtsied and arranged her face into a smile.

"Your father has not returned yet," Cornwallis informed her. "I sent him and some of the Dragoons to scout some of the land. But I will help you get settled in."

"Thank you, my lord," Melissa said.

Cornwallis nodded and smiled. They went up to a room and Cornwallis announced, "These will be your quarters."

Melissa looked around. It was a spacious room, with large windows framed by lacy white curtains. The bed was large, and made with flowered blankets and pillows. The closet space was also big and the wooden floors were clean and polished.

"It's lovely," she said. "Thank you."

Borden set her things down and the men left her so she could unpack. Melissa took her time, hanging her dresses delicately in the closet and arranging her things neatly on the dresser space. She was just finishing up when another officer walked into the room. "Colonel Tavington has arrived," he announced in a crisp tone.

Melissa swallowed, suddenly feeling afraid. It was time to meet her father.

Chapter Two

Melissa thanked the man in the doorway and took a quick glance at herself in the dresser mirror. She brushed her hair quickly because the left side looked a little funny. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the doorway and saw that the man was still standing there.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Melissa said automatically, going over to him.

He smiled slightly. "No trouble. Follow me."

They went down the long corridor and down to the first floor into a small parlor room. Melissa saw General Cornwallis standing next to a tall man who was taking off his gloves.

Melissa froze in her steps. There he was. After seventeen years of being nonexistant, her father was standing right in the same room as she was. He looked up and saw her. Their eyes met and they just looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a few seconds. Melissa scrutinized the man. He was tall, with an athletic build. He looked like her. He had dark hair like hers, except his was pulled back in a dignified style. His eyes were the same cold blue as her own. Melissa let out her breath and looked away from him. She looked at General Cornwallis and at the man who had brought her in, wondering what would happen next. She knew she should walk over to him, her father, and say something. Shake his hand, at least. But she couldn't move. She was still somewhat shocked and she stood there in place, unable to walk across the room towards him or even say anything. All the insults and snide remarks she'd had in store left her, too. Her mind was blank.

Finally Cornwallis cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Melissa's father. The man seemed to shake himself slightly, as if he were just as stunned as Melissa was. He cleared his own throat and crossed the room on confident strides. "Hello, I'm Colonel William Tavington," he said formally, as if he were adressing some random stranger. "I understand you are to be in my care."

Hearing his voice unfroze Melissa somewhat and she managed to take the hand he had extended. It was larger than hers and his handshake was firm. "Yes," Melissa said, surprised by how clear her voice sounded. "I'm Melissa Byers."

Tavington nodded. Cornwallis again cleared his throat. "Excuse us," he said graciously before he and the other men left the room. Tavington and Melissa were alone.

Tavington gestured for her to take a seat on a small couch. She did so, stiffly, and Tavington sat beside her.

"So," he began with a slight smile, "you are my daughter. Melissa. I remember your mother, Madeline."

"I'm surprised, it's been long enough," Melissa said without thinking. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth in the effort to appear to be sorry but in truth she wasn't sorry. She was even a little pleased with herself. He deserved it, anyway.

Tavington narrowed his eyes slightly and let the comment pass. "It was a disease, I understand? How she passed on? I was sorry to hear of it."

"Influenza," Melissa said automatically.

Tavington nodded. "It's a tragedy. But let's not dwell on the past." He smiled again. "So. Tell me about yourself, Melissa. You're what, sixteen now?"

"Seventeen," Melissa said flatly. "I'm seventeen now."

"Seventeen." Tavington shook his head. "How time flies. You're all grown up."

Melissa could have said something really rotten just then but for some reason she didn't know, she held her tongue and just nodded.

Tavington cleared his throat. "Well. What are your interests, Melissa?" he attempted. "What do you like to do?"

Melissa shrugged, lacing her fingers together. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "Nothing special. Read, write, stuff like that."

Tavington nodded. "What do you write?" he inquired.

"Mostly in my journal," Melissa told him. "What I'm thinking. It's not creative or anything but I like it."

"That's good," Tavington assured her. "Journal writing is a helpful way to get things out."

Melissa had to hand it to herself. She was putting on a splendid performance, and so far her composure hadn't broken. She had decided to save her anger for a later time. Right now she had to concentrate on making it through this first meeting without breaking altogether.

"I write sometimes, too," Tavington confided in her. "I don't keep a journal but--and don't tell anyone--I attempt poetry." He grimaced. "But we won't talk about that, mainly because my attempts are so pathetic. It's sad, really."

Melissa's mouth twisted into a quick smile but she squelched it fast.

"It's a shame you know," Tavington stated, "that you waited so long to contact me. I'm sure we would have enjoyed each other's company, had you come to me sooner. But we can overlook that and concentrate on now."

Melissa stared at him. He had not just said that. Had not just acted like it was her fault that she had gone seventeen years without a father. It was unbelieavable. He actually believed that he was not to blame for abandoning Melissa and her mother. Anger surged through her, ten times worse than anything she'd felt towards him before. Suddenly she couldn't stand to be in his presence for another minute. She was too angry to even think of a stinging retort. Clenching her jaw, she shook her head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door as hard as she could, not caring about the British officers milling around who turned to stare. She made her way back up to her quarters, her shoes tapping angrily against the polished wooden floors the entire way. She reached her quarters, slammed that door too, and stomped across the room.

And then she cried.

Chapter Three

Melissa stayed in her room until she heard a timid knock. She had been lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and now she raised herself up onto her elbows and cast an irritated glance at the closed door. Apparently, no one realized that a closed door equaled, "Go away and leave me alone." "What?" she snapped.

"Miss Melissa," a voice said from the other side, "I was sent by Lord Cornwallis to inform you that dinner is being served and your presence is requested."

Melissa stifled a groan and dropped back onto the bed. Now she had to go out there and face Cornwallis, a number of other officers, and her father. She considered for a brief moment to have the person on the other side of the door inform Cornwallis that she had a terrible stomachache and she wouldn't be able to make it to dinner. But if she did that, all she was doing was prolonging the inevitable. She got up and cross the room to open the door.

A girl stood on the other side. She was about Melissa's own age, and she had long, straight brown hair and big, sparkling brown eyes. She was obviously a servant. She gave Melissa a smile and said, "Are you ready, miss?"

"I just have to brush my hair," Melissa replied. "Do you think you could wait for a moment? I'm afraid I don't know where the dining room is."

"Certainly, miss, it's no trouble," the girl replied with a nod of her head. Melissa nodded back before going over to her mirror. The servant girl stepped inside the room and stood just inside the door, examining her nails. Melissa looked in the mirror and was relieved that her eyes were not red, nor was there any other evidence of her cry-fest earlier than afternoon. She picked up her brush and brushed her hair before pulling it back from her face and fastening it with a pretty ribbon. She took a deep breath, gave her reflection a smile, and turned back to the girl. "Okay, I'm ready."

They stepped out into the hallway. Melissa closed her bedroom door and followed the girl. "So," the girl began, "my name is Jessica, and I'll be your maid for your stay here. "

Melissa nodded and gave the other girl a smile. "I'm Melissa, as you probably know."

Jessica nodded. "Yes. We were told that you were going to be staying here with your father." She gave Melissa a sideways glance and Melissa could tell she was probably curious about the circumstances. Well, Melissa wasn't going to be feeding her information, at least not right now. She decided to change the subject and attempt small talk. Usually she did not converse with servants, but Jessica seemed to be the only other girl her age who she could talk to. It was either befriend her or go crazy with boredom and loneliness. She didn't think the soldiers and officers would be very good companions for a seventeen year old girl. "How long have you been here?" she asked.

Jessica smiled. "Since I was about ten. I'm sixteen now. My mother is Lord Cornwallis's personal cook. So my sisters and I work here as well."

"Oh, you have sisters?" Melissa inquired.

"Yes, two. Katherine and Valentine. Val is your age, seventeen, and she works with Mother in the kitchen. Her cherry and apple pies are simply devine." Jessica grinned. "And Katherine is only ten, so she helps me a lot. You'll meet them eventually. Ah, here we are." Jessica stopped walking and Melissa realized they were at the dining room already. Jessica opened the door and gestured Melissa inside. "Have a good meal, miss," she said, and then headed off. Melissa saw that Cornwallis, her father, and a few other officers were around the table. All of them stood up when she entered, and all eyes were on her. Melissa swallowed down a flash of nervousness before giving them a smile. All but her father. She was avoiding Tavington's eyes.

"Hello, Melissa," Cornwallis said warmly. He gestured towards the empty seat beside Tavington. "Please, sit down."

Figured she'd have to sit next to him. Melissa smiled tightly before walking around the table towards the chair. Tavington reached over and pulled it out for her and she looked at him briefly before lowering herself into it. All the men sat down and Melissa looked at Cornwallis. He gave her another smile and said, "Allow me to introduce General O'Hara." He gestured to a man on his right wearing a uniform and a powdered wig. "And Captain Borden," he said with a nod to a man with reddish hair and freckles, "And Captain Wilkins." A tall man with curly, light brown hair and a white-toothed smile.

"It's a pleasure," she said to the men. After the introductions, a tall blonde girl entered the room with the meal. She looked a little like Jessica and Melissa guessed it was Valentine. She offered a small smile and Valentine smiled back before going about her work.

"So," Tavington said to her as Valentine was leaving, "are your quarters comfortable?"

"Very much so, thank you," she answered, glancing at him. He gave her a smile, and she attempted one back. He looked slightly pleased when she smiled back at him, and Melissa immediately looked away. She didn't want him to think he had won some battle or something. She was still upset with him.

Dinner was pleasant. Melissa found that even though the officers were men and, well, old, they were pleasant company. She especially liked Borden, because he had a nice smile and spoke pleasantly. Besides, he gave her compliments, and she was always up for hearing good things about herself.

When supper ended, Cornwallis suggested that Tavington give Melissa a tour of the grounds, and Melissa managed to get out of it rather smoothly.

"Oh, I'm actually quite tired," she said, putting the right amount of exhaustion into her voice. "It was a long day for me. I'm sure we can go on a tour tomorrow, if that's okay."

"Certainly," Cornwallis said with an understanding smile.

Jessica entered the room then, and Melissa took the oppurtunity. "I'll be heading back to my room now. Good night, everyone."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," her father said, and Melissa left the room, wondering what tomorrow would bring.

Chapter Four

The next day came too quickly for Melissa. She had spent an uncomfortable night in her new room. It wasn't that the conditions were unpleasant, for she rather liked the room. But, except for the nights she spent on the ship from England, it was her first night that she had slept any other place than in her familiar bed at home. The strangeness of being in a new place had kept her awake long past midnight. She'd lain in the dark for a long time, thinking about her mother and her father and her new surroundings. She'd finally fallen asleep when the first rays of dawn glimmered outside of her window. And what seemed like five minutes later, she was awakened by Tavington coming into the room.

He didn't even knock. The door opened with a loud creak, and Melissa opened her eyes. Bright sunlight flooded the room and she squinted, bringing her hand up to her eyes.

"Good morning," Tavington said cheerfully and she turned to look at him. He was dressed in a fresh uniform, and not one strand of dark brown hair was out of place. He gave Melissa a smile. "Are you ready for our tour?"

Melissa didn't bother masking her irritation at him just barging into her room. "Does it look like I'm ready?" she snapped. "I just woke up."

Tavington didn't even look flustered. "Well, of course I meant after you got dressed. Come now, you're not still in bed are you?"

"No, it just looks like I am," she replied, rolling her eyes. She hadn't figured him for stupid.

Tavington just smiled. "Come on, out of bed. You missed breakfast, but I'm sure Louisa wouldn't mind fixing you something."

"Louisa?"

"The cook," Tavington explained. "The girls are on their way here to help you bathe and dress." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jessica and her sisters entered. Melissa noticed the admiring looks they sent her father. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she sat up and ran a hand through her sleep-tangled hair. Did she have to deal with the servants fawning all over her father now?

"Colonel Tavington," Valentine said with a nod at her father. "Hi, Miss Melissa."

Melissa and Tavington nodded. Then Tavington looked at Melissa. "Whenever you're ready," he informed her, before he strode out of the room. Valentine closed the door after him and gave Melissa a smile. "We're here to help you prepare for the day," she said.

"Yes," Melissa answered. "Just give me a minute. I can get up." She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms. She was all stiff from sleeping and her muscles were sore. Groaning slightly, she climbed out of bed.

"Bad night?" asked Jessica sympathetically.

"You could say that," Melissa replied with a wry smile. Jessica patted her shoulder and Valentine said, "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. It's not such a bad place, really."

"Yes, I like it enough," Melissa said.

They set about the task of getting Melissa ready. Melissa decided she liked Jessica, Valentine, and Katherine. Jessica was the most outspoken. She was bubbly and enthusiastic, and it seemed she never stopped smiling. Her cheery disposition was comforting. Valentine, who had long blonde hair and blue eyes, was quieter than Jessica, but she was nice and she had a funny sense of humor, when she cracked jokes. And she liked to tease Jessica, which was amusing to observe. And Katherine was adorable. She was ten but looked a little younger. She had blonde hair and blue eyes like Valentine, and she kept up a steady stream of chatter about anything that came to her mind. It was cute.

Melissa bathed in rose fragrance, and then got dressed in a pale blue dress that matched her eyes. Jessica fixed Melissa's hair in a stylish chignon, and helped her with the right amount of make-up to make her look even more pretty.

"Darling, you look ravishing," Jessica drawled as they looked in the mirror, imitating Melissa's British accent.

"Okay, that was an awful imitation," Melissa said with a giggle.

Jessica pretended to look hurt. "You're insulting my dignified accent?" she asked.

"Yep."

"I am crushed, Melissa, just crushed." Jessica pretended to sniffle and Melissa laughed, feeling very glad that Jessica was around.

"Well, I think you're ready," Valentine said.

"You look beautiful," Katherine added.

"Thank you all," Melissa said graciously. "Well, I suppose my father is waiting. I'll see you all later." She grinned at them before hurrying off to find her father. She found him waiting in the front hall. He was looking out the window without any real expression on his face and Melissa noted how much he looked like her. She would have known they were related if she'd tripped over him on the street.

Shaking her head to clear it, Melissa took a breath and then said, "Hello."

He turned. "Hi, Melissa. You look wonderful."

"Thanks." Melissa gave him a smile.

"Well. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I am. Let's go."

So Tavington gave her a tour of Fort Carolina and told her about their progress in the war. Melissa found herself tuning him out, mostly because she found the topic of the war and politics incredibly boring, but she nodded in all the right places and Tavington didn't notice she wasn't listening.

"Sir," a voice called, and Tavington turned slightly. They had reached the stables, where all the men kept their horses.

A young soldier hurried up to them, and Melissa's heart jumped to her throat as he came closer. He was tall, with golden blonde curls and warm brown eyes. He glanced at Melissa for a second, and when their eyes met, she felt her heart pound. Her hands were suddenly all clammy and she clasped them together.

"Yes?" Tavington asked.

"Sir, General Lord Cornwallis has sent me to find you. He needs to speak with you."

"Now?" Tavington asked in annoyance.

The boy shrugged and nodded. "He said immediately, sir."

Tavington sighed and turned to Melissa. "I'm sorry, Melissa, but as you can see..."

"Go ahead," Melissa said graciously, gesturing towards the fort. Tavington patted her shoulder before heading off. Melissa turned to the handsome boy and he smiled at her. "Hi."

"Hi," Melissa said, suddenly feeling shy. She guessed he was about nineteen or twenty. He was awfully handsome. The sun made his golden curls shine and when he smiled, he showed a dimple in his left cheek. Melissa was gone. The dimple did it. She was definitely in love.

"Um, I'm Edward Davidson," he introduced himself.

"Melissa Byers," she returned, taking the hand he offered.

"Melissa. That's a pretty name."

"Thank you."

Edward gestured towards Tavington's retreating back. "Friend of yours?"

"Not really. Are you a private?" she asked, changing the subject.

He nodded. "Yes." He started to say something else, but then someone called to him and he gave her a wry grin. "My commanding officer," he explained. "I better go. But, um, maybe I'll see you around."

"Yes, maybe," she said casually.

He nodded and grinned again before putting on his black hat and heading off. Melissa smiled, turning to go back into Fort Carolina. Perhaps staying here wouldn't be so bad after all.

Chapter Five

Melissa and Tavington were in the parlor at Fort Carolina a week later, spending some time together. Well, actually, they were under the pretense of spending time together. In actuality, Tavington was sitting in a chair, alternating between swirling wine around in his glass and watching Melissa. Melissa was lying comfortably on a lounging couch, seeming fascinated with the task of braiding and unbraiding a section of her straight, dark brown hair.

Tavington just didn't understand his daughter. Melissa had been at Fort Carolina for about a week now, and she still had not warmed up to him. She was politely distant, which didn't make sense because she was so nice to everyone else. But whenever Tavington was around, she clammed up, and hardly even looked at him, unless she was annoyed with him. Then she glared at him with her cold blue eyes and snapped out insults.

That day at breakfast, Cornwallis, showing his talent for being a pain in the butt, had announced that he didn't think Tavington and Melissa were "bonding." He therefore suggested that they spend the entire day together. Both of them had sputtered excuses, but Cornwallis would hear none of it. So now Tavington was stuck here in the parlor, playing nanny to a bratty teenager, when he should be off pursuing the "Ghost," the leader of the militia who was destroying British supply lines and prlonging Cornwallis' location in South Carolina.

Tavington looked at Melissa. Melissa glanced over at him, and narrowed her eyes. "What," she said in an annoyed tone of voice.

"Nothing," Tavington replied, his own voice annoyed. "Sorry to offend."

She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her hair. Tavington had a sudden, insane urge to grab the nearest pair of scissors and chop off her shiny locks, just to make her mad. It was a completely crazy thought, but Tavington smirked at the mental image of Melissa bald.

He set down his wine glass and leaned forward. "Melissa," he said. She finger-combed the section of hair and tucked it behind her ear before looking at him. "Yeah?"

"Look, you don't seem to be too happy to be here. But why don't we both make the best of it, and get to know each other. What do you say to riding horses for awhile."

"Gosh, I'd love to, but I just painted my nails this morning. I'd hate to break one," she said sweetly, extending a hand to show him her long, manicured fingernails with the delicate pink polish. "Aren't they pretty?"

"Lovely," Tavington said dryly, rolling his eyes. What an impossible snot this girl was, he thought to himself. He knew he shouldn't be having these mean thoughts about his own daughter, but he wasn't exactly a kind and loving man by nature, and her brattiness brought out the worst in him. She should be grateful that she had a place to go when her mother had died. Was she? No, of course not. Instead, she seemed to get pleasure out of making him furious. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Okay, how about a walk?" he suggested. "There are some really beautiful paths outside. We can bring lunch, and have a picnic. What do you say?"

"Okay," she agreed, to his surprise. Boredom must have won out over her resolve to perpetually annoy him. She must have been as anxious as he was to get out of the parlor.

"Great," he said, placing a smile on his face. "Go get prepared, do what you need to do. We'll leave in half an hour."

She hopped up and skipped out of the room. Tavington followed at a slower pace, shaking his head. He headed to the kitchen to tell the cook to prepare a lunch.

How did he get himself into these situations?

###

Melissa scurried up to her room, wondering what she should do to prepare. She was wearing a light, summery dress that was perfect for the warm weather outside. Her hair! Her hair was probably a horrid mess. She'd been playing with it absently during that time she'd had to spend with her father in the parlor. She hurried over to her mirror and checked out her reflection. It was a little messy, but not too horrible. She picked up her brush to smooth the strands, thinking about her outing. It wasn't that she was all excited to walk along some dirt paths and risk tripping and breaking a nail or getting dirt on her dress, but outside they might run into the handsome Private Davidson, who Melissa hadn't seen since their brief entercounter a week before. But she was bound to see him sooner or later. Today just might be the day where she'd run into him, and he'd look at her with those gorgeous brown eyes, and she would tilt her head so that the sunlight caught the highlights in her hair just the right way, and he'd...

Someone knocked on her door and Melissa jumped, startled out of her daydream. "Yes?" she called.

"Can I come in?" It was Jessica.

"Yeah, the door's unlocked," Melissa replied, setting her brush down and flipping her hair over her shoulders. Jessica entered the room and smiled at Melissa. The girls had gotten to be good friends, and Melissa hardly even thought of her as a servant.

"Where are you going?" Jessica inquired. She leaned against Melissa's bed and pulled her long brown hair into a messy coil before letting it trail down her back.

"My father wants to take me out on a walk and a picnic lunch," Melissa said, shrugging. She picked up a lipstick tube and smoothed it over her lips.

"Oh, where did you get lipstick?" asked Jessica, joining Melissa by the dresser.

"I brought it with me from London. And this nail polish, too." She spread her hands to show Jessica her nails. "Pretty, huh?"

"Lovely," Jessica agreed. She then studied her own reflection in the mirror and sighed. "You're so lucky, Liss. I think you were born beautiful. Some of us weren't so lucky."

"Oh, don't say that, Jess." Melissa smiled at her friend. "You know you're gorgrous. You should do something with your hair though. I mean, instead of just wearing it loose all the time."

"Why? You never put yours up, either," Jessica pointed out.

Melissa smirked. "Yeah, that's because I can do that and still look good." She gave Jessica a pointed look.

"You are such a conceited snob--" Jessica started to reply, but then Melissa flashed her a grin and they both burst into giggles.

"Melissa?" someone called from the hallway. "Are you ready?"

Melissa rolled her eyes. "Yes!" she called back, and then turned to Jessica. "I guess I gotta go. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure. Have fun." Jessica walked with her to the door and they parted in the hallway. Tavington watched her go, then turned to Melissa. "You get along well with her," he commented.

Melissa shrugged. "Sure, she's nice. Anyway, she's someone I can talk to. You can't expect me to have the time of my life with all you soldiers, do you?" With that, she flounced down the hallway, Tavington close behind her. Melissa thought that she had better see Edward. Otherwise, she didn't know how she'd make it through the day.

Chapter Six

Melissa and Tavington stepped out into the sunny weather. It was early September but it had not started to get very cold yet. There was a light breeze and Tavington took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing himself. He looked over at Melissa, who was straightening her loose hair. He wished she would wear it up the way other women did. She looked good with it flowing loose, but it seemed to impractical to Tavington. He touched his own hair, tied securely back away from his face, and shrugged. Her life.

"Hi," Melissa said to someone and Tavington glanced back over at her. She was smiling up at a private, a private with blonde hair and dark eyes, as if he were the most wonderful person on Earth. Tavington rolled his eyes. Great. That was just what he needed, a bratty teenage daughter with a crush.

"Hi," the boy replied, smiling at her. He glanced uneasily at Tavington and nodded. "Sir."

"Private," Tavington returned, nodded slightly. The boy turned back to Melissa and grinned. "What are you up to today, Miss Byers?"

"Melissa," Melissa said quickly. "And we're going for a walk and a picnic." She gestured towards Tavington.

The private gave Tavington a questioning look, and Tavington realized, with amusement, what he was thinking. "Don't worry, private. She's my daughter."

"Oh." The private looked considerably more confused, and Tavington smirked. "Come on, Melissa," he said. "Good day, Private."

"Good day," he repeated.

"Bye," Melissa said softly as Tavington led her away. As soon as they were out of his earshot, Melissa glared at Tavington. "Thanks a lot."

"What did I do?" he asked.

She just shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You couldn't let me talk to him, at least? And why did you tell him you were my father? Everyone's scared of you. Now I'll never have a chance with him. He'll probably think you'll kill him or something." She looked like she was about to cry.

"Hey, don't get all hysterical," Tavington said. "I don't care if he courts you."

"You don't?" Melissa looked surprised.

"Well, why should I? I encourage it, even. Mostly because when I was a lad, I fancied a girl, only my parents forbade me to court her. I told myself I'd never forbid my own child to follow her heart." It was one of the most revealing things Tavington had ever said and he looked away.

"Thank you," Melissa said after a moment.

He looked over at her. She was twisting a strand of hair around her finger, looking both pleased and worried. "But he might not talk to me anymore, so I won't be able to tell him that you allow him to court me."

Tavington smiled, seeing the oppurtunity to do something nice for his daughter. It might make her a little more tolerant of him, maybe.

"I'll tell you what," Tavington said. "I can help you with that. I'll talk to him myself. There's a ball at Middleton Place tomorrow night, and you and I have been invited. I will speak to this private...what's his name?"

"Um, Edward Davidson."

"I'll speak to Private Davidson, and I will invite him to be your date." Tavington was pleased with himself.

Melissa let out a little squeal. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed. "Thank you thank you thank you!"

Tavington grinned. He'd done his good deed. And the joy on Melissa's face somehow made it worth it.

###

"Jessica!" Melissa exclaimed the next night. "Help!"

"What's your problem?" Jessica asked in exasperation, stepping back from Melissa. She'd just spent nearly two hours helping Melissa get ready, but Melissa was still convinced she looked horrid.

"Look!" Melissa was surprised that Jessica couldn't see it. "My hair is a disaster. Why did I ever let you curl it? It's too late to change now but it's getting limp, and I haven't even left yet." She tugged at one of the curls pinned atop her head and groaned.

"Liss, calm down," Jessica said, rolling her eyes. Melissa stared at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a pale blue gown and matching slippers, and Jessica had curled her hair and put it up. Melissa was convinced she looked terrible.

"I can't calm down. Jessica! Edward's going to wish he never agreed to go with me."

Jessica sighed. "Melissa. You look beautiful, Edward's crazy about you, go out there and have fun! Go on, go!" She waved a hand. Melissa took a deep breath, cast one last look in the mirror, and left the room.

Her father was waiting for her. He was wearing a fresh uniform, and he looked very handsome. He grinned at Melissa as she joined him. "You look splendid," he complimented.

"Thanks, so do you," she replied. "But I don't think I should have let Jessica curl my hair."

"It looks great, don't worry," Tavington assured her."Ready?"

"Yes. Where's Edward?"

"Outside with the carriage."

Melissa fought the nervous flutter in her stomach and took a deep breath. Then she and Tavington headed outside, to meet Edward and go to the ball.

Chapter Seven

"Is that the Melissa I've heard so much about?" inquired Peter Fowler, a captain in the British army and one of Tavington's few friends.

"Yes," Tavington answered, looking out over the vast lawn at Middleton Place to where Fowler was gesturing. "That's my daughter."

"A real beauty, that girl is," said Fowler with a nod. "Yes, a real beauty."

"She is attractive," agreed Tavington, watching Melissa. She was standing with Edward, looking positively thrilled with her catch. They were talking to a few other guests, but it was obvious from the way she and Edward kept smiling at each other that they were hardly aware of anyone else. Tavington felt a sudden, unexpected pang of envy at their happiness, and he turned away before Fowler could notice anything. Taking a long sip of wine, he tried to think of something else.

Luckily, Fowler took care of that for him. Unluckily, he chose a topic that made Tavington even more uneasy. "So, Colonel, any luck catching that blasted Ghost? I tell you, this upstart of the colonists is quite unattractive. They obviously have no chance of winning this war, and yet they insist upon carrying on like insolent savages, and with men like this Ghost, well, it is extremely unpleasant."

"Uh huh," Tavington said dumbly. Downing the rest of his wine, he headed for the inside of the mansion. "Excuse me," he called over his shoulder towards Fowler. Making his way inside, he found the quarters where Cornwallis was still preparing for the ball. Since other officers were in there, it seemed as good a place as any to stand for a few moments and collect his thoughts.

So he watched as Cornwallis fought with a tailor over a fresh coat the tailor had prepared. Cornwallis huffed, "It's a horseblanket."

Tavington had to open his mouth. "Oh, I don't know, my Lord," he said thoughtfully. He smirked at Cornwallis. "It's really quite nice."

"Very nice," agreed General O'Hara.

"Very well, it's a nice horseblanket," Cornwallis said without hesitating. Then he turned to take his frustrations out on Tavington. Tavington suddenly thought he should have stayed outside. Cornwallis began to accuse Tavington of being inept in his task of capturing the Ghost. Tavington clenched his jaw in aggrivation as Cornwallis rambled on. When he seemed to be done, Tavington had a nasty retort on his tongue but he wisely held it back, deciding it wasn't worth it.

"Give me the horseblanket," Cornwallis said finally. Tavington turned and strode out of the room without saying another word.

Back outside, he looked around trying to decide what to do next. He didn't see Melissa anywhere. Fortunately, two lovely young ladies came to his rescue. They proceeded to flirt with him, and Tavington smiled at the attention they were giving him. He was beginning to relax when suddenly a supply ship out in the harbor exploded into flames. Everyone around them gasped and started talking in amazement.

"Oh, fireworks!" a woman exclaimed, clapping. "Lovely!"

Tavington gulped down more wine. It would be a long night.

###

Melissa grasped Edward's arm when the ship exploded. "Oh, my!" she said.

"Damn rebels," Edward muttered under his breath.

Melissa watched as the supply ship burned and then she turned to Edward. "I wish this war would end," she said. "And then I could go home."

"Why wait until after the war is over?" Edward inquired.

"Because I can't go back by myself," she explained. "My father has to come. That's the reason I was sent here in the first place, because I needed a guardian. Or else I would have stayed in England."

"Oh, I see," Edward said, nodding.

"So I have to wait for the war to be over and so my father can leave the army and we can go back to England."

"How are you getting along with your father, anyway?"Edward asked.

Melissa shrugged, turning back to the crowds of people. She looked around and then spotted him standing with a few women. "Better, I suppose, but I don't know. I'm still angry with him, for leaving my mother and me. And some of the stories I've heard about him..." Melissa shook her head. Turning back to Edward, she gave him a smile. "But let's not think about that. Where did you live, in England, before you came here?"

Melissa engrossed herself in conversation with Edward, pushing any other thoughts out of her head. All she wanted to think about was her marvelous date with Edward. No other thoughts were welcome.

###

Later that evening, Tavington escorted Melissa back to her room. He was aware that Melissa was still stiff and distant around him, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. The child had made up her mind to be unpleasant and he didn't really care anymore. Not his problem.

"Well, good night," he said when they got to her door.

She turned and looked up at him. "Did you have a good time?" she asked him.

He was startled at her almost friendly tone. "Well, I suppose so. How about you? Did you enjoy your date with Edward?"

A smile crossed her lips. "Yes, he is simply wonderful," she said. "Do you give him permission to court me?"

Tavington shrugged. "Sure."

She grinned happily and threw her arms around him. Tavington was completely stunned. But then anger surged through him. Stepping back, he glared at her. "So, now you want to be all friendly?" he asked. "Now that I'm giving you something you want?"

"What do you mean?" she said, wide-eyed.

"Don't try that innocent look with me, Melissa, because I can see right through it."

Melissa stared at him for another second, and then the wounded look left her eyes until they were as cold as his own. She crossed her arms and lifted her chin, staring at him defiantly.

"You come in here and act like a two-faced brat, and then suddenly I give my permission for you to see that boy and suddenly you're a nice person to me?" Tavington said, shaking his head. "I don't like how that works. "

"So what?" Melissa asked, a steely edge to her voice. "I can't believe you expect me to come in here and act like you're the long lost father I've waited my whole life to meet and suddenly I'm here and everything's forgotten? You left my mother and me! And you never tried to make contact. Why should I be nice to you?"

"Oh, so suddenly I'm the bad one?" Tavington retorted. "Is that how it works with you? No matter what happens, you're the victim. No matter how you look at it. Is that right?"

Melissa bristled. "You don't even have a clue," she said, shaking her head. "You honestly don't think you've done anything wrong, do you?"

"I haven't," said Tavington, staring her down. "You didn't try to make contact with me, either. How was I even supposed to know you wanted me to? You can't blame me for that."

"Okay, fine. Think what you want to. I don't care." Melissa gave him one last glare before spinning on her heel and yanking open her bedroom door. She stepped through and slammed it behind her so hard that he winced. He was left alone in the hallway, feeling angry and very confused. How had that happened?

Chapter Eight

Melissa avoided Tavington at all costs. They were icily polite during meals when they were forced to occupy the same space, but other than that they rarely saw each other. Melissa spent her time between Edward and Jessica. However, often the soldiers were gone and Edward was not around. Those times, Melissa stayed in the company of Jessica and sometimes Valentine. One day, Jessica asked Melissa about her father.

"Do you worry about him, when he's gone for so long and he's off fighting?" Jessica wanted to know.

Melissa shrugged, pulling her hair away from her face and letting it fall down her back. She, Jessica, and Valentine were sitting around on Melissa's bed, trying not to be bored. Melissa liked her friends but she missed Edward, and she disliked being at the fort all day long with nothing to do. "I don't know,"she said, answering Jessica's question. "Not really. He can take care of himself."

Jessica and Valentine exchanged a look. "But he's your father, Melissa," Valentine pointed out.

"So?"

"So, you should worry about him."

Melissa narrowed her eyes and glared at Valentine. Valentine looked a little intimidated. "Don't tell me who I should or shouldn't worry about. As a matter of fact, don't tell me what to do at all."

"I wasn't trying to--"she started but Melissa was not in a good mood and she wasn't going to take this.

"You're just jealous because you guys don't have a father," she snapped, getting to her feet. "Your father doesn't care about you at all, or he wouldn't have left your mother and made her be a servant." She said the last word in disdain, and was slightly gratified at their stung expressions. "Now, please leave," she added, gesturing towards the door.

"Gladly," Jessica snapped. "Come on, Val."

After they were gone, Melissa sighed, suddenly feeling regretful. She went over to the window, and that's when she saw the Dragoons and the soldiers riding into the fort. She let her face break into a grin and hurried outside to meet them. Anxious to see Edward, she searched all the men, but her heart sank a little when he wasn't with them.

"Melissa," someone called,and she turned to see Tavington striding towards her.

"You've returned safely," she said with a nod, keeping her voice even. "Where is Edward?"

His eyes flashed with something, before his face returned to its usual stern expression. "Melissa," he stated, "I'm sorry, but Edward was killed in battle."

At first, the words had no meaning. She stared at him blankly. Clenching her fists, she felt her nails dig into her soft palms, but she hardly noticed.

"I'm sorry," Tavington said again, awkwardly.

"Edward is dead?" she asked, her voice cracking. He nodded and Melissa felt dizzy. Tears spilled over her warm cheeks. Tavington reached out to her but she flinched and instinctively took a step back, wrapping her arms around herself. His face flashed with hurt before going blank. "Okay, fine," he said shortly.

Melissa looked at him and raised her chin defiantly, daring him to say what he was so obviously going to say.

"It doesn't matter anyway. He would have died sooner or later anyway," Tavington said with an indifferent shrug.

Melissa's heart shattered into a thousand pieces with that. She wasn't surprised, because she knew he was going to say something cruel, but she wondered why she had to feel it so much, even though he hadn't surprised her. But his words made it real, so undeniably real, and her head started to pound. She took a step back from him, stumbling. "Why do you do that?" she demanded.

"What did I do to you now?"

Melissa just shook her head. Turning, she ran as fast as she could away from him and away from Fort Carolina. She ran far into the meadows and the woods, until she finally collasped by a tall tree. Sinking to the ground, she lifted her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, lowering her head. She curled herself into a small little ball and stayed like that, even past dark.

###

She heard footsteps behind her. Not bothering to lift her head, she listened as the heavy boots crunched over the soft leaves in the grass. She didn't care who was coming for her. If it was a Rebel, well, then they could shoot her. She didn't care. If it was one of the redcoats, then they'd take her back to the fort. She didn't know how long she'd been sitting by the tree. Hours? Days? It didn't matter.

"Melissa," someone said, and Melissa squeezed her eyes shut. Anyone but HIM.

"Come on, Melissa, it's time to come home," Tavington said.

"He's dead. Edward...he's dead," she said.

"I know. I'm sorry. Come on."

She felt him put his arms around her and lift her to her feet. Dizziness overwhelmed her. Everything turned black for a moment before slowly gaining color again. She stumbled forward and Tavington caught her before she fell. "I think I'm going to be sick," she murmured, leaning against him for support. Her stomach churned and her head pounded. She had never felt so sick, not since her mother had died. Another person had left her, someone else she loved. They were dropping like flies. Who would be next?

Tavington hoisted her onto his horse and they rode back through the darkened world to Fort Carolina. Melissa hardly remembered arriving or being put into bed. Once she was laying in her blankets and pillows, she let the sleep come and she fell into a peaceful darkness.

Chapter Nine

"Melissa?" Tavington said, knocking on his daughter's door the next day. He didn't want to admit it, but he was very worried about her. It must have been really awful for her to lose Edward like that, and he felt incredibly guilty for having been harsh to her after he told her. She'd been pretty bad off the night before in the woods. The poor thing could hardly walk on her own. Today was nearly over and Melissa hadn't left her room once.

"What?" Melissa called through the door.

"Liss, it's me. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," Melissa replied listlessly, as if she really didn't care one way or another.

Tavington opened the door and stepped into the room. It was pitch dark. Melissa didn't even have one candle lit. He could see her figure, sitting on the bed.

"Um, could I light a candle?"

"If you must," Melissa replied with a shrug. Tavington managed to light a couple of candles, and then he turned to face his daughter.

She looked awful. Her normally pretty face was pale, and dark circles were under her eyes. She was wearing a simple white dress and her long hair was in tangles. She hadn't brushed it that day, obviously. She had a blank expression on her face.

Tavington took a deep breath and cleared his through. Shifting his weight, he started to speak. "So, Liss, listen, I'm really sorry about Edward. And about what I said. I know this can't be easy for you."

Melissa shrugged. Tavington desperately wanted her to snap at him, to show some signs of life, to assure him she was still the fiery girl he realized he had grown almost fond of. This person in front of him was a stranger. Tavington wondered how he could see a spark of life in her.

"Do you want to go riding, or for a walk?" he asked. "It's not too dark outside yet. It would be nice."

"No."

"Are you hungry? Want to come down to dinner? You haven't eaten anything all day."

"I'm not hungry."

"Melissa, you can't just sit here like a dead person yourself," he snapped, finally growing impatient. "I'm sorry Edward died, but you didn't. You have to move on."

She glared at him, and Tavington felt a little relieved. Behind the shadows in her eyes he could see a familiar fire in her. "Oh, leave me alone," she said. "No, I won't," he refused. "Grief can do an awful thing to you. I've seen it. I won't let that happen to you, Melissa." He walked closer to the bed. "You've got a fiery spirit, and if you let yourself just fall apart like this, then that fire is going to burn out. I won't stand here and watch you go into a depression until you're dead yourself."

"What do you care, anyway?" Melissa demanded. "Just leave me alone, please!" She turned her face away, and Tavington clenched his teeth in frustration. He wasn't getting through to her. It was obvious. Forget it, then. Let her do this to herself. He had tried. He couldn't do anything else.

"Fine," he snapped. "I'll leave you alone." He strode out of the room and closed it with just enough force to let her know he was angry.

###

Melissa flinched a little as the door shut behind Tavington. She wondered when he had decided to become Mr. Kind-and-Loving-Father-of- the-Year. Oh well. It didn't really matter anyway. She got up off the bed and went to the mirror across the room, checking out her reflection. She did look pretty awful. Where had those circles under her eyes come from? And why was she so pale?

Her father's words came back to her. Was she going to grieve until she withered away herself? It was totally normal to grieve for Edward. He'd been her beau and one of her good friends. She would miss him forever. But she had to at least try to move on, right? She was so confused. And she hated how ugly she looked.

She picked up her brush and began to brush all of the tangles out of her hair. Then she worked on her face. She was applying lipstick when someone knocked on the door.

She jumped, and a jagged red line went across her cheek. Swearing under her breath, she grabbed a handkerchief to wipe it off. "What's your damage?" she yelled towards the door.

"Melissa, Colonel Tavington sent me to tell you it's time for dinner," came Jessica's voice.

"Okay, okay. I'll be out in a sec. And Jess, wait a minute, would you?"

"Fine."

Melissa hurriedly wiped her mouth and then she headed outside the hall. Jessica was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed. When she looked at Melissa, her expression was neutral but Melissa could see the flickers of sympathy in her brown eyes.

"Jessica, I'm sorry," Melissa said immediately. "Really, I don't know what got into me. I didn't mean to say those things to you. I didn't mean it. "

Jessica's expression immediately softened. "Hey, it's okay," she said with a smile. "No hard feelings."

"Gosh, you're awfully forgiving."

Jessice shrugged. "Well, given the circumstances, I'd be kind of a jerk if I stayed mad at you."

"Yes," Melissa said, not smiling as Edward crossed her mind again. She shook her head and started walking with Jessica towards the dining room. She had to keep it together and stay in control. It was the only way to get through this.

Chapter Ten

Two weeks later, Melissa sat at dinner, picking at her food. Actually it was more like poking at it occasionally with her fork. She had no appetite at all. Even though she'd made an effort to try and get over Edward, it was hard. Some days she just wanted to stay in bed all day and not face anyone. This was one of those days.

None of the men noticed how quiet she was being. She was eating with Borden, Wilkins, and Tavington. Tavington looked pretty angry about something, and he was hardly eating at all either. Instead, he was concentrating on cutting and recutting the poor piece of meat on his plate. It was cut up in so many pieces that it was almost funny. Wilkins and Borden were chattering away about something, something in which Melissa had no interest in. So she wasn't listening to them.

Melissa cast a glance at her father. His eyes were glittering dangerously. She'd never seen him look so mad. She wondered what was bugging him. He perpetually had a mean look, but not like that. At least, not around her. They were getting along almost okay these days, and she wasn't used to that dark glare.

Melissa turned back to her plate, looking at her own piece of meat. The cook had said it was veal. Melissa wrinkled her nose at the thought and poked at it with her fork. How could she make it look like she was eating this poor baby cow without actually ingesting any?

Tavington muttered something under his breath. Melissa looked at him again. He had finished cutting up the meat and was now tearing apart a piece of bread as if he were murdering it. She noticed Wilkins cast an apprehensive look at Tavington, and Melissa smirked. Tavington didn't even notice.

"So, Melissa," said Borden, attempting to include her in the conversation. Melissa looked up and smiled politely.

"Are you enjoying your stay at Fort Carolina so far?" Borden asked.

"Oh, yes, very much so," Melissa said, not bothering to tell him that she was depressed and bored. Like he even cared anyway.

"What was England like?" Wilkins inquired.

"It was very nice."

"Do you miss it very much?"

Melissa fought the urge to roll her eyes. Wilkins' smile was so fake. He didn't really care about what he was asking her, but he was trying to be polite. Well, she had to give him credit for that, at least.

"Sometimes," she answered, casting a sideways glance at her father. Tavington was smashing each and every one of his peas with his butter knife. Melissa almost smiled in amusement. His behavoir was kind of funny.

Wilkins noticed her flicker of a smile and glanced again at Tavington. "Is something wrong, Colonel?"

Tavington looked up, glaring at Wilkins. "I don't know. Maybe I'm upset because that blasted Ghost was here at Fort Carolina today and he was right there! Did I get to dispose of him? No, of course not. That blasted O'Hara..." Tavington muttered a few choice words after "O'Hara" and then he rolled his eyes. "Not only that but that...man pretended to have captured eighteen of our officers, but they weren't even officers, they were dummies in uniforms! Straw dummies!" Tavington slammed his butter knife down. "And no doubt his Lordship is going to blame me for it all."

Melissa bit her lip at her father's outburst. Wilkins looked sorry that he'd even said anything. Melissa sighed and pushed away her plate.

Tavington glanced at her sharply. "Eat your food, Melissa. "

"I'm not hungry," Melissa replied.

"Well, you'd better get hungry!" he snapped. "I'm not in the mood for this, so just eat the damn food."

"Don't tell me what to do," Melissa shot back.

Tavington clenched his jaw. "Melissa, don't be difficult, I mean it."

Melissa shook her head, feeling totally annoyed. "Difficult? You are such a hypocrite! You, like, slaughtered your food and didn't eat a bite but you yell at me because I'm not hungry, and then you tell me not to be difficult after you just yelled at everyone because your stupid war isn't going right."

"How dare you talk to me like that?" Tavington exclaimed, his eyes flashing.

"Sir," Borden cut in, "maybe this isn't the best time--"

"Shut up, Borden," Tavington snapped.

"Don't tell him to shut up," Melissa said, standing up for Borden, not because she really liked him or anything but just to disagree with her father.

In minutes, the table had become a war zone.

Tavington and Borden were arguing with each other now. Wilkins was trying to get them to calm down, and Melissa fought to control her growing anger.

"Would you all stop it?" Melissa finally exclaimed. Everyone looked at her, and Melissa could feel the tears in her eyes. "You are all acting so immature! I can hardly believe you are grown men. What are you even mad about? Nothing that can't be fixed. What about me? nobody seems to care about me!"

"Are you kidding?" Tavington asked, staring at her. "That's all I've been doing since you got here!"

"You have not! Yeah, you gave me a place to stay and everything but you haven't acted like a father. You've acted more like it was an obligation than something you wanted to do. You never acted like you even wanted me here. Nobody asked me about how I felt about being here, or how I feel about this stupid war. I hate it! It's ruined my whole life. It took away Edward! Nothing is worse than that."

The men were all staring at her. Melissa immediately berated herself for losing it like that. But nothing she could do about it now. She folded her arms and looked down, sniffling back tears. She didn't care, anyway.

"Um, more wine, anyone?" asked Wilkins, holding up the bottle.

Chapter Eleven

Melissa stormed out of the dining room and headed for her room. She was sick of all of them. She was sick of being here, too. And she was sick of feeling angry and depressed.

On a whim, she switched directions and barged into Jessica's room. Jessica and Valentine were in there, talking. They both looked up, startled, as Melissa came in.

"Hi, Liss," said Jessica, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm tired of this," Melissa replied, shutting the door. "My father is a total jerk who only cares about himself, that stupid Borden has no backbone, and I think Wilkins is a very good candidate for the All-Time-Idiot-Of-The-Year award, plus I have a headache and your mother tried to make me eat a little baby cow for dinner, which really didn't help any, and I just need to relax for a little while, and by the way, is your mother still hiding chocolate in the kitchen? Because I could really use some."

They were staring at her as if she'd just sprouted another head. Melissa stopped to catch her breath, feeling relieved to have gotten it all out. It was so nice to have friends who would listen.

"Let me go check on the chocolate situation," Valentine said, hopping up and heading for the door. After she was gone, Jessica said, "Wow. Someone is sure wound up today."

Melissa shrugged, dropping down onto the bed. "I'm just so sick of everything, and I'm sick of being sick of everything."

"You definitely need a cheer-up session," Jessica agreed. "So come on. Valentine's bringing the chocolate. We can just sit in here and binge and work on getting you happy. What do you say?" Jessica grinned.

"I say it sounds great," Melissa said thankfully.

###

Later that night, Tavington returned to Fort Carolina. It was nearly two in the morning, and all Tavington wanted to do was go to bed and sleep for about ten hours. Of course, he couldn't. For one thing, he had to report back to General Cornwallis, who had managed to blame Tavington for the little mishap with the Ghost that day. Then he'd sent Tavington out on a wild goose chase to find the man, and after Tavington had tried to find his children, it ended with a long, unsucessful chase of the militia. Tavington understood why Benjamin Martin was nicknamed "The Ghost." The man had been there one minute, and simply disappeared without a trace the next. It was almost spooky.

For another thing, Tavington wanted to see Melissa. He felt pretty bad about their fight, which was odd for him because he never really felt bad about anything. But he had been thinking about it, and he realized she was right. He hadn't acted like he wanted her around at all, and he hadn't been very sympathetic to her either. The poor girl had arrived in a strange place after her mother had died, and she had to adjust to living with a father she didn't know, and then her boyfriend had died, and he hadn't been sympathetic then, either.

He had found an adorable little kitten when he was coming back from the chase. He wasn't sure where it had come from, exactly, but it had been hiding by a tree, looking alone and scared. It was black, with big blue eyes, and it had instantly made him think of Melissa. So he had picked up up and taken it back with him. He was sure Melissa would like it. Who wouldn't like a little kitten?

He headed for her room and knocked gently on the door, forgetting how late it was. Maybe now wasn't the best time to wake her up and give her the cat. Except what was he going to do with it in the meantime?

He opened the door and looked inside. Maybe he would just leave it on her bed and she would wake up to find it. Unless it ran off in the middle of the night. That wouldn't be good.

Hmm. Suddenly his plan wasn't sounding so good.

He frowned, peering at Melissa's bed. It was empty. Where the heck could she be at nearly two in the morning? She couldn't have run away, could she? Oh, he hoped not.

"Sir?" someone said, and he jumped about a mile. Then he turned and saw Borden standing there. He took a deep breath and said, "Borden, have you seen my daughter?"

"No sir."

Tavington swore under his breath. He felt like an idiot, standing there with that stupid kitten, who was mewing and clawing gently at his sleeve. Probably the cat had made a hole in his jacket by now. He was going to kill Melissa if the brat had run off. And he had even tried to be nice!

"What are you doing here?" said a voice and for the second time, Tavington nearly jumped out of his skin. People were really going to have to learn not to sneak up on him when he wasn't thinking clearly!

He turned and saw Melissa making her way down the hall, holding her stomach and rubbing her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked immediately. "You look ill."

She shook her head. "Yeah, fine, I just overdid it on the chocolate."

"Excuse me?"

"Nevermind. What's going on?"

"I just got in," he explained. "I was checking on you, but you weren't here."

"I was spending some time with Jessica and Valentine," Melissa replied, yawning. "I didn't realize how late it was. But I'm fine, you don't have to worry about anything."

"Oh, right." He attempted to hide the cat. He didn't want to give it to her when she looked about ready to fall over with sleepiness. Quickly, he shoved the cat at Borden and took Melissa's arm. "Come on, let's get you in bed."

She didn't protest. He led her into her room and turned down her covers for her while she lit a low candle and chose a nightgown to wear.

Fluffing up a few pillows, he cleared his throat. "So, Melissa, I really want to talk to you. I have some things to tell you. Is tomorrow okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Melissa said in a whatever-you-say kind of voice. She gestured to her nightgown and then raised her eyebrows at him.

Tavington got the point. "Okay, well, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Sure. Good night," she replied.

"Good night, Melissa," he replied, and left the room. He couldn't wait for tomorrow. He knew she was going to love the little cat. And he had some things to tell her. Some things she deserved to know.

Chapter Twelve

"Oh, she's adorable!" exclaimed Melissa, taking the kitten from Tavington's arms the next day. The kitten purred loudly and tried to return to Tavington. Melissa laughed. "I think she likes you," she said.

"No, I think she likes my jacket," Tavington said wryly, touching his sleeve where the cat had been clawing at for the last half hour.

It was the next morning, after breakfast. Tavington and Melissa were in the courtyard, and Tavington had just given Melissa the kitten. He was glad to be rid of it. The kitten had spent the night in Tavington's room and had managed to climb up on the dresser and knock everything else off, get into a wrestling match with the blankets on the bed, have an "accident" on Tavington's hat, and scare itself almost to death during an encounter with the mirror. Now he had sat with the cat for half an hour waiting for Melissa to arrive. The cat had had a wonderful time clawing at Tavington's jacket, which now had a hole in the sleeve.

"I think I'll name her Princess," Melissa said thoughtfully, scratching the kitten's ears. She purred contentedly and snuggled up to Melissa, forgetting all about Tavington. "She looks like a Princess, don't you think?"

"Oh, sure," Tavington said, rolling his eyes. Melissa just grinned. "Thank you," she said.

Tavington shrugged. Then he said, "So, Melissa, I think we ought to have a talk."

"About what?"

"About...stuff." He cleared his throat.

Melissa raised her eyebrows. "If you're trying to talk to me about...well, relations between men and women, you needn't worry. Mother took care of that."

"What? Oh!" He blushed, not expecting that. "No, that's not it at all."

"Oh." Melissa laughed. "Okay, then what is it?" She set down Princess and the kitten immediately bounded over to the nearest patch of flowers.

"It's about your mother and me. And about why I was never, well, there for you."

"Oh," she said again, shrugging. "You don't have to."

"I want to. You need to know this."

She was silent.

"You see," Tavington began, "I was young when I met your mother. About your age. Young people do foolish things. At least in our case, I suppose."

"So having me was a foolish thing?" Melissa snapped, jumping to conclusions.

"No, that's not what I said," Tavington replied. "Would you just listen a minute?"

"Fine. Sorry."

"Anyway, like I said, your mother and I were young. We met at a ball in London, and we took an immediate attraction to each other. Madeline was sweet and kind and very beautiful." He smiled briefly, remembering her.

"It wasn't long before we were involved. I thought that I was in love with her. We were always together, talking or walking or whatever. We got, uh, intimate, needless to say."

Melissa blushed. "Where are you going with this?"

Tavington ignored her question. "One day, we got into a fight. I don't even remember about what. Something dumb, probably, but it sprouted into a screaming argument. I walked out on her, and I didn't come back. And she never came after me. That was the last I saw or heard of her. I regret it, definitely, but you can't change the past." He shrugged and looked at his daughter. She looked a lot like Madeline. She looked like him too. "I didn't know about you, Melissa. She never told me she was with child, and I didn't know I had a daughter or surely I would have tried to be part of your life."

Melissa looked stunned. "You didn't know about me?"

Tavington shook his head. "I didn't," he said honestly. "I figure that she got pregnant and she was going to tell me, but she never got the chance. Maybe she would have told me that day, the day we had the fight. I don't know." He shrugged again. Out of nowhere, Princess jumped onto his lap. He jumped in surprise. He'd forgotten all about her. Melissa reached over and picked up her cat and started to pet him. "So you had no idea I was even alive?" she asked.

"No."

"Oh...wow." Melissa shook her head, sitting back. "I can't believe it."

"Anyway, I'm telling you this because I know you came here sad because she was gone, and mad at me because I hadn't been there for you. I understand. But I didn't make it any easier for you, and so I want to apologize." He coughed. "Believe me, this isn't easy. But I want to make a fresh start with you, Melissa. We need to get along better, hmm?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good. I'm glad we had this talk." He cleared his throat.

"Me too." Melissa actually smiled at him. Tavington grinned back and they both got to their feet.

Suddenly, things were seeming a lot better.

Chapter Thirteen

"Mind if I sit here?" asked Melissa.

"Sure, go ahead," Jessica replied, gesturing towards the blanket that she, Valentine, and Katherine had spread out under a tree in the courtyard of Fort Carolina.

Melissa said down and leaned against the big trunk of the tree. It was later on the same day that Melissa had talked to Tavington. It was a beautiful autumn day, with the sun shining brightly despite the crispness in the air. There wasn't a cloud in sight, as if the sky had been painted by an artist with only one color on his pallette. A soft breeze blew and played with Melissa's hair. Smoothing the strands back down, she looked around her. Jessica was sitting with a book on her lap, an ink bottle and pen next to her. It looked as if she had finished writing and was waiting for the ink to dry. Next to her, Valentine was braiding Katherine's shiny blonde hair.

"I didn't know you kept a journal," Melissa commented to Jessica.

Jessica grinned. "Don't tell anyone."

Melissa laughed and shook her head.

"So what are you up to today, Melissa?" asked Valentine.

"Nothing. You know, you guys won't guess what happened this morning."

"What?" asked Jessica eagerly.

Melissa filled them in on the events of the morning. When she was done, Jessica leaned back on her elbows with a sigh. "That is so romantic," she breathed. "A long-lost father, the daughter he never knew, a reunion and a kitten." She giggled.

"Where's Princess now?" Katherine inquired.

"In my room sleeping," Melissa answered. "Later you can see her," she added.

Katherine grinned. "Oh, goody!"

"So where is your father now?" asked Valentine.

"He and the Dragoons left. They're searching endlessly for some rebel they call the Ghost, but I don't know much about it. All I know is that the situation is driving my father crazy and is making him extremely angry. Do you know anything about it?" she asked her friends.

"Nope," Jessica replied. Valentine shrugged and shook her head.

"Oh well. I'm sure it will all get straightened out." Melissa shrugged. "Personally I just wish this war would end. It's tiring."

"I don't really care either way, you know?" Jessica said. "I mean, if we win, great, if we don't, we just go back to England. It doesn't really matter."

"It matters to me," Melissa said. She shook her head. Well, Jess doesn't need this war to end as much as I do, she thought. Jessica's boyfriend wasn't killed in battle, like poor Edward. If we can win, it would justify his death. Out loud she said, "I hope we win and we can stay in America. I bet my father will have a grand house and be a war hero and will be very respected. I hope he captures that Ghost."

Valentine tied a blue ribbon at the end of Katherine's braid and then stood up. "I have to be going. See you all later."

She walked off. Melissa said, "Hey, I'm going to go see if Princess is awake. Want to come, Katherine?"

"Oh, yes." Katherine jumped up eagerly, her eyes shining at the prospect of meeting the kitten.

"We'll be right back," Melissa informed Jessica. Jessica waved and Melissa started across the grass. Up in her room, she found that Princess was indeed awake, and was amusing itself by scratching and clawing one of Melissa's favorite pair of slippers.

Melissa let out a shriek and darted forward. Princess jumped back when Melissa grabbed one of the slippers. Inspecting it, she saw that the damange was minor. She sighed. "Princess, you're adorable," she told the cat, "but you are a load of trouble."

"Mew?" replied Princess. She tilted her head at Melissa as if to say, "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," Melissa replied. "But I love you anyway." She scooped up Princess and turned toward Katherine. "Katherine, meet Princess. Princess, Katherine."

"Hi, Princess," Katherine said, coming toward the kitten and reaching out a small hand to pet her. She giggled in delight when Princess licked her hand.

Just then, Jessica raced into the room. "Liss!" she exclaimed.

Melissa jumped a mile. "Good grief, Jessica, must you sneak up on me like that? You could have given me a heart attack. Then--"

"Melissa, something's happened," Jessica cut her off. "I was outside and Tavington came walking into the Fort. He was by himself, with no horse, and he looked just awful. His uniform was rumpled and his hair was loose. Worse, he was wounded."

"Oh, no!" exclaimed Melissa. She handed the cat to Katherine and followed Jessica out of the room. They rushed down to the front parlor, where they found Tavington, sitting on a couch with his head in his hands.

"What happened?" Melissa demanded.

Tavington jumped, and then looked up at the girls. "Nothing," he said brusquely. "I'm fine." He got to his feet and Melissa saw the wound in his side.

"You're hurt," she said.

"It's already been treated. I'm fine."

"Come, I'll help you."Melissa and Jessica went to either side of him and put their arms around him. Tavington didn't resist and he let them walk him upstairs to his quarters. They eased him onto his bed and he let out a little groan and put his hand to his side.

Jessica gave Melissa a worried glance. Melissa went over to the closet and found a robe. "Here, change into this," she told her father. "You'll be more comfortable."

Melissa turned away to give him privacy, but Jessica stared at him as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Jess," Melissa hissed. Jessica jumped, and then blushed. "Was I staring?" she whispered.

"Yes, and you still are. Turn around for goodness sake."

"I'm going to check on my sister," Jessica replied. She nodded to Tavington, who had pulled off his shirt. Staring once again, Jessica took a few halted steps towards the door.

"Excuse her," Melissa said, rolling her eyes and giving Jessica a gentle push in the direction of the door. Coughing, Jessica hurried out. Melissa smirked. Jessica probably had a crush on Tavington. Not that she could blame her. Her father was rather handsome. It was where Melissa had inherited her own good looks.

"So what happened?" Melissa asked again, staring out the window.

"Skirmish," Tavington replied shortly. "You can turn around," he added and Melissa turned back to see him have the robe on over his underclothes. He laid down and pulled the covers on up to his chin.

"Were you successful in capturing the Ghost?" Melissa attempted.

"No. I'm tired, Melissa. If you could leave me for awhile, please?"

Melissa was a little hurt but was determined not to show it. She couldn't blame him, anyway. He had been shot, after all.

"Yes. I'll be back in a little while," she replied. Then she left.

###

After the door closed behind Melissa, Tavington let out his breath. He couldn't tell Melissa the events of the day. Now that he had seen her, his mind's eye had flashed back to the church in Pembroke. Before he had ordered that the doors be closed, he had glimpsed a young girl in the church, perhaps a couple of years older than Melissa. She'd had dark hair and blue eyes, just like his daughter. At the time he hadn't thought of her twice, but now that the girl was dead, burned alive in the church, he couldn't help imagining that it had been Melissa in that church. What would Melissa do if she discovered what he had done? And that wasn't all. Later on, in that skirmish, he had killed the Ghost's son. He knew it was, had recognized the boy when his face contorted with pain, the edge of Tavington's sword deep in his stomach. He'd looked into the boy's eyes and past the pain had seen the absolute hatred for Tavington. It had bothered him. And now he knew he had dug his own grave even deeper. Martin had promised to kill Tavington before the war ended. Tavington was sure that when Martin found his dead son down by that creek, the promise would have tripled. Tavington's life was in danger. He wasn't afraid, not exactly. Just a little worried. If he didn't kill Martin, then Martin would surely kill him. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

And he had to keep it all a secret from his daughter, who he cared about. Perhaps she was the only person he cared about. He couldn't bear to have her look at him with the same anger, disgust, and hatred that other people directed at him once they found out who he was and learned of his terrible deeds. Melissa must never know.

Pulling his pillow over his head, Tavington sighed. A big battle was coming up. Cowpens, he believed. Cornwallis didn't want him to participate, but he would be damned if he let one stupid wound keep him from battle. He had to defeat these rebels and kill Martin once and for all. And then he and Melissa could leave, could go live in Ohio and not have to worry about anything.

With all these thoughts echoing in his mind, he finally fell into a troubled sleep.

###

"I'll be fine, Melissa," Tavington said a couple of weeks later. It was the night the army would set out for Cowpens, to prepare for the upcoming battle. Melissa was incredibly worried. During the past two weeks, as his wound had healed, he'd talked to Melissa a lot and she had found herself caring about him. She didn't want him to die. She didn't know if she could bear the death of another loved one. She'd lost too many people already.

"I have to go," Tavington said gently. Melissa saw that many of the soldiers were beginning to march out. The Dragoons were assembled and were waiting for their commander.

"Okay. Good-bye, Father." Melissa reached forward and gave Tavington a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Return home safe, okay?"

"I will. Promise." He smiled at her and smoothed down her hair, then turned and mounted his horse. Giving her one last nod, he joined his Dragoons. She watched as they rode out of the Fort, and continued to stare even after the last soldier was gone.

She went back inside. Fort Carolina was emptied except for the servants. Melissa had a strange sense of foreboding, as if something terrible was about to happen. Shaking her head to rid herself of the eerie feeling, she went to her room and picked up her journal from its place on her desk. Opening it, she read the entries, beginning from the ones she wrote on the ship travelling here. Her eyes wandered over the words and she read again about her first meeting with her father, about meeting Edward, Edward's death, getting her kitten, meeting Jessica and Valentine and Katherine, her new feelings toward her father. Reaching the last page of entries, she found a pen and dipped it into her inkwell.

Father left today for battle. Even though he has left for battle several times since I got here, this time it is different. Maybe because I actually care whether he lives or not. It matters. I have this strange sense that something awful is going to happen, as if when I watched him leave today I was seeing him for the last time. I don't like that feeling at all. I also feel like he was hiding something from me. He never discussed the day he was wounded, except to say that it was in a skirmish and several of his men, including Borden, were killed. Wilkins is his new second-in-command. Wilkins was acting strange, too. He didn't speak to my father at all. And he was cold to me as well. I wonder what happened? Perhaps I will never know. Still, I hope everything will be all right. I can't wait for the day that this war is over. I hope it ends soon. And I hope the victory is ours.

Melissa set her pen back into the inkwell and blew on the ink to dry it. Closing her journal, she picked up Princess and walked over to the window. She couldn't get rid of her creepy feeling. Closing her eyes, she prayed that nothing bad would happen.

###

Melissa and Jessica walked down the garden path slowly, without any real purpose or anywhere to go. Melissa wondered whether or not to voice her fears to Jessica. It had been about three days since the army left, and she had not heard any bad news. No reason to worry. In the broad daylight, her worries seemed almost ridiculous. Of course nothing would happen. Yet another part of her warned her quietly that this could be the calm before the storm. Melissa wished that part of her would shut up.

Finally,she opened her mouth. "You don't think my father is in any danger, do you?"

"Of course not," Jessica replied. "He's Colonel Tavington. He doesn't get hurt. Not seriously, anyway. Don't worry."

Melissa felt a little relieved. Jessica's confident attitude about it made her relax. She was right. Her father was fine. "Speaking of Colonel Tavington," Melissa said, turning towards Jessica with a sly grin, "I think you fancy him."

"Please. He's old enough to be my father."

"So? That doesn't mean anything."

"He's YOUR father. That has to be a conflict of interest or something. Though I admit he is rather handsome." She giggled.

"I knew it!" Melissa was just about to begin teasing her friend when the sound of horse's hooves stopped her. Looking up, she saw a young rider breathlessly stop in front of them. "Melissa Byers?" he asked.

"Yes," Melissa replied, confused. "Can I help you?"

"I've orders to take you to Cowpens immediately. Your father has been wounded. Perhaps fatally. He asks to see you."

"Oh. . my...God." Melissa's heart stopped for a moment, then started beating irregularly fast. "Come, Jessica. You must come with me."

The found two more horses and followed the rider. It took a long time, but finally they arrived at the Cowpens hospital tents, outside of the army camp. Melissa, Jessica, and the rider, whose name was David, made their way through wounded soldiers and the nurses and doctors, towards one tent. Melissa stepped inside and her breath caught in her throat. Tavington was lying on a cot, his face deathly pale. He was so still, Melissa feared they were too late. A blanket was over him so she didn't see what was wrong with him, but she didn't want to know anyway. Cornwallis, Wilkins, O'Hara, and a doctor were in the tent. They all stepped aside as Melissa went towards the cot.

Cornwallis put a hand on her shoulder and she paused to look up at him. He had a nice face, like a kind grandfather. He gave her a small smile and said, "Don't worry. He'll be fine."

Melissa didn't believe him, but she nodded anyway and continued on to the cot. Kneeling down, she touched Tavington's face. "Father," she whispered. "It's Liss. Can you hear me?"

"Liss?" His eyes fluttered open, and sparkled with recognition. "Hi."

"Hi. What happened?"

"Battle wounds." His voice was so light and raspy, it made her miss the sound of his strong, deep voice.

"Okay." She didn't question it further.

"Melissa, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I was never there. I should have been there for you, but I wasn't. Whatever you may learn about me, please don't let it cloud your judgement."

Melissa was puzzled. What did he mean?

"You're my daughter and I love you." His smile turned wry. "Isn't that something."

"Father, you need your rest. Don't try to talk."

He shook his head. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Melissa. You're a strong girl. You can make it anywhere."

"I know. But I won't have to. You'll be with me, right?"

He coughed a little. "Good-bye, Melissa."

"Father--"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And then he was still again. The doctor came forward and felt for a pulse. Meeting Melissa's eyes, he shook his head sadly.

Tavington was dead.

Melissa stared, unable to comprehend what had just happen. He was gone. She had lost someone else, and now she was all alone. Tears clouded her vision, and she got to her feet. Just as soon, she stumbled and reached out to grasp Jessica's arm. "Take me home," she sobbed to her friend. At any moment, she thought she would collapse. "I can't take any more. Please, just take me home."

###

Cornwallis moved north. After the defeat at Cowpens, he took flight with his army and left South Carolina. Melissa did not go with them even though Cornwallis assured her that she could stay as long as she pleased. But she couldn't bear to stay with the army. She had to start over, start a new life for herself. She needed to stay grounded, instead of moving around for as long as the war continued. It was nearing an end, though. Perhaps. The Continentals were winning. It didn't matter any longer to Melissa. She knew that she wasn't going to go back to England. She wanted to stay in South Carolina.

"I'm going to go to Charles Town," she told Jessica. "Perhaps I can find work, and I can start building my new life."

"We're going to miss you so much," Jessica said, wrapping her arms around Melissa. Since their mother was continuing to serve Cornwallis, Jessica, Valentine, and Katherine would be leaving with the army. "I wish you would stay with us."

"I'll miss you too. But I'll be fine. I'm on my own, but I can make it."

Next she hugged Valentine, and then Katherine. And then a footman helped her with her luggage, and she climbed into a carriage provided by Cornwallis. As she left behind Fort Carolina, she pulled out her diary and began to write.

My parents are gone, and I'm starting a new life. I'm changing my name, too. From now on I'm going to be Melissa Tavington. It will be a tribute to my father, whose bravery and heroics no one will ever know. But I know. I know that deep down, he was a good man. And he'll always be a hero to me.

Melissa closed her journal and put it away. Then she pulled Princess into her lap. Scratching the kitten behind its ears, she turned her ice blue eyes towards the right, and watched the South Carolina scenery pass by without really seeing it.

The End

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