The Butcher's Daughter

Chapter 9

Mabel's tolerance for pain was unlike anything William had ever seen, even on the battlefield. He watched in amazement from across the tent as she removed the round, metal interloper from her shoulder and cut short the flow of blood with all her strength. Her fingers shook momentarily on top of the wound, but steadied out on their own before William could even offer to help.

"You're a really poor shot, Fa." Mabel shut her eyes and balanced the back of her head against a wobbly pole. "It would have been easier to just kill me."

"The night is young, Miss... Tavington." He bore his teeth slightly and continued to marvel at his strange new acquaintance.

She hadn't halted his infatuation with Annabelle, but certainly had complicated it. Desire was not far off, especially having a beautiful young woman in his tent with her shoulder vulnerable and bare. But every time his mind wandered down that path, Mabel's differences from Annabelle became clear. For one, she was hardly delicate or ethereal but muscular and intense with sun kissed skin and blue eyes full of fire. In his mind, she was more boy than girl and this fact managed to mute her undeniable beauty.

On top of all this, there was something else about her that William couldn't define. Nor did he want to. It was madness, after all! That this stranger, this unusual little pebble in his shoe, would somehow belong to Annabelle... and himself. He pushed this possibility far, far back in his mind- even further than his deviant attraction to her.

"I'm curious," William leaned in and nearly lost his train of thought when Mabel opened her eyes to look at him and welcome his question, "since I am providing you with aid, against my better judgement... where do your loyalties lie?"

"I'm a one-woman country. Self-governed. Thank you very much." She gave him a wink and leaned back into comfort. Despite her speedy recovery, it was clear that she was bitter about her wounded shoulder.

"And you're a Tavington. Which, in case you are unaware, is a very uncommon surname."

"Well, Fa, I am a very uncommon gal," Mabel said, simply. "Do you have any more questions for me?"

William failed to withhold a smile. Thankfully, Mabel wasn't paying attention. "When you address me, Miss Tavington, you will address me as Colonel, is that clear? As for questions, yes, I do. Do you realize how much danger you are in right now? A colonial girl with a smartass disposition in the middle of the woods with a dozen sex deprived buffoons with muskets-"

"-thank goodness they're buffoons!" She interrupted, gleefully.

"You must be a Casey," his voice lowered, "you simply must be..."

"And why is that, Colonel?" Mabel challenged him.

"Because you always say exactly what's on your mind."

Her smile remained as she watched him, waiting for any expression of friendliness to surface on his face. He was an astonishingly solemn individual, even more so than the grief-stricken father from her memories.

"Where are you from?" William continued. "I'd like to see you properly returned to your home. I'd also like to cover your expenses at the nearest chemist. It's the least I can do and women run a higher risk for infection, after all." He could tell that she didn't take well to this observation, "I intend no harm to your village, Mabel, wherever it may be..."

"Okay- one, I'm not from anywhere, really. Two, my immune system is so faultless and robust that I am practically a medical mystery. The fact that I'm a woman is irrelevant! As for you not meaning any harm," Mabel gestured to her injury, "owie," she rolled her eyes.

"You're making it increasingly difficult for me to decide what I'm going to do with you," he didn't want this sentence to come across as wicked, but it did. As ever, Mabel didn't seem afraid. "You are a vagrant, an equestrian, apparently not a rebel and lastly, you are a Tavington. I shouldn't feel responsible for you, Mabel, but I do." He looked to the side, appearing as if he was searching through his memory for some lost content. "If you have no home to go to, you will ride with us tomorrow and inquire for employment at each fort. I will try to negotiate something in the stables. For some reason, I have a feeling that housekeeping would bore you to tears. You will be safe there and will have access to the care that you need."