What Happens By Candlelight

Chapter Eleven: Insults

Evening rolled around before I could even comprehend anything. I barely had time to even think about what I would say, or prepare for anything that he might bring up. My brothers, though our time together was short, gave nothing away. I don't think they even knew about our little meeting.

Was it really a secret between the two of us?

Had I been the innocent little flower I once was, I would find this both romantic and scandalous. However, I was old enough and wise enough to know better. No longer naive and blind to the ways of the world, I knew well what could happen.

I knew well of the consequences if someone were to discover the two of us alone, late at night, in a secluded area.

Still, I made my way into the garden, holding a lantern to light my way.

At first, I feared I was alone. The darkness chewed away the light I held, and if I waited another ten minutes, the candle will extinguish.

Do I wait? Should I find a place to sit? What do I do if he doesn't show up? Is this a test? Will he think me less than the common camp whores? Will he tell other men of how I waited for hours in a garden, alone, waiting on him to show up? What would I do if my reputation was ruined at the fresh age of nineteen?

"I've been having those horrible visions again," I nearly jumped out of my skin, not realizing he had come up behind me, and out of the shadows. "I didn't mean to startle you."

His voice was sincere, but I could hear the humor laced in with it. It was gone when I turned around, replaced with a troubled face. His eyes did not meet my own and instead focused on the flame of the lantern. For the first time, I noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes, and how much older he looked when he was tired and stressed. "We won't have long, you should have gotten a fresh candle."

"I do not mind walking in the dark," I spoke before I could think, but was pleased to see his mood lighten a bit. "If you don't mind me walking in the dark, that is."

He took a step forward, making my heartbeat quicken, but it was replaced with the usual cold feeling of rejection as he stepped around me, taking a seat on the stone bench I discovered the last time we met out here. "I do not mind as long as you feel safe enough to do so, but I worry about the men who won't be able to distinguish your face when surrounded by darkness."

I joined him a moment later, trying to ignore his comment. "You said something about having visions?"

His eyes clouded over, leaving me to sit in silence with a partner who was too busy recollecting his dreams. "I should not discuss such things with a lady, especially in detail, but I find your presence and words relaxing. In fact I... I rather prefer your company over most others in your sex and-"

"And you wish to recite your woes to me?" He gulped, informing me that I was on point with my guess. "Well, I doubt I'll be of any assistance, but I might as well try."

And so he began, telling me of his constant night terrors, and how he witnessed all the men he had to kill on the battlefield over and over again. It was a traumatic experience indeed, yet people often set up picnics to watch the bloody aftermath of such events. He never did explain anything in explicit detail, only the bare minimum.

"I... I have been forced to do unsavory things for the sake of this war. I do not wish to ever return to another battlefield, but I am constantly traveling to and fro, as my commanders wish. I am not sure if I can, or will, survive this war. It has... drained me of all life, of all desire to live and see the future. I do not know how my men do it, or how they cope with everything. I do know that the last time we spoke, you gave me a terrible feeling of calm, and my terrors stopped. Had I not gone to battle once more, I would still be sleeping peacefully."

I was unaware of how much my words had affected and changed him. I was unaware that this man was completely human, and that he, like all of us, had faults. If I was blind to the world and reality, then I would see all British troops as bloodthirsty tyrants, wanting to do horrible things to as many colonists as they could. Instead, I was met with a man who was exactly that- a man.

"I do not know what to say," My surprise had yet to wear off, and a dejected look crossed his face.

"I thought so. Kindness is usually a one-time thing. I am sorry for wasting your time, Miss Evans. Shall I escort you inside?" He stood, but I remained seated. The light from the lantern slowly dimmed, and with a small flicker, it was gone. He looked like a completely different person with only the moonlight to illuminate his face.

"What would you like me to say? That you aren't the villain? You aren't, the war itself is the downfall of man. Would you like me to say that you are fighting for what is just and right? I can't; because I do not know what is right at this point in time. I cannot comfort a man who doesn't know what he wants. Tell me, do you fight for honor, pride, and justice? For recognition from your superiors? Or because you have to?" His jaw clenched, whether it be in anger or from his own thought process remained unknown by me. "Or perhaps you enjoy seeking comfort in women?"

He snapped.

"You know not of what you speak!" I tilted away from his voice but tried to remain otherwise unaffected. "Such wise words for a woman who has no home, no title, and no personal belongings that aren't borrowed or handed to her. How does it feel to be in debt to people from an ocean away? The tyrants who own and control you?" I tried to bite my tongue, not wanting to make the situation worse than it already was. "And to think I actually- you, you are the definition of- I can't even complete any insults because you aren't even worthy of those!"

I dropped the lantern as I stood, ignoring the sound of glass breaking. I hardly registered anything, only my labored breath as I marched back inside, my fist clenched and my eyes narrowed.

When I was sure that I wasn't being followed, I hit a wall, not expected the stone that lay behind the wallpaper. I felt the pain instantly, and regret swept through me. I didn't even both trying to move my fingers out of the fist formation. 

Why was I so angry? Since when did I start getting upset enough to punch a wall? Was this going to be a common occurrence? If so, then I never want to get angry again.

"Miss? Oh, Miss!" Ruth grabbed my hand, panicking at the broken and swollen flesh. I could hardly recognize her through my blurred vision, but I knew her petrified voice well. Had I scared her with my unpredictable outrage? "Let's get you fixed up!"

Without having a choice, I was ushered away from the crater I had created, and towards the kitchens.

~~

The next morning was quiet. Though my hand ached terribly and remained wrapped up in bandages, I was otherwise completely unbothered by the world.

The table was quiet, with only the three siblings and myself eating the small meal prepared for us. Madeline had been frantic when she saw my bandaged hand and demanded I lay back in bed, much to my annoyance. Apparently, she doesn't understand the difference between minor injuries and having the plague.

Moments later, the General joined us, grumbling as he served himself.

"What is it, Father? Another ambush?" Madeline quite enjoyed having something to gossip about, giving me something to write to Amanda about. 

"No, I have to pay to have an entire hall refurbished! Someone made a huge hole in the wallpaper!" I nearly spit out my tea, but quickly moved my hand under the table and away from sight.