~Christina's Perspective~
"Miss Christina?" Timothy came up beside me, holding out some flowers he had picked from the fields. "I heard some people talking about you... Are you okay?"
A smile slowly descended across my features from his adorable gesture. He obviously didn't listen to what they were saying other than my name. Otherwise, he wouldn't be asking me that question.
"I'm well enough Timothy. Why don't you join me?" The flowers smelt lovely, even if I couldn't name what they were. I'd have to find a book on them when the war is over.
The boy seated himself on the ground, letting his fingers fiddle with a blade of grass. It almost seemed like he was nervous about something. What could a child possibly be so anxious about? He was too young and innocent to face any of the real problems in this world.
"I don't like the things they were saying about you," he finally muttered under his breath, "they've said some really bad things. They've been calling you names, and making up all these stories."
His gaze moved back up towards me, blurred from the tears that were building up. "Why didn't you say yes? Everyone would be happy if you had just said yes."
My heart broke for the poor lad. I pulled him into my arms, rubbing his back as he sniffled. I was somewhat surprised that he knew what happened, and yet he still came to me. "I couldn't say yes. I-"
"You should have! You could go back to England with us! You could spend time with us over there! We'd get to see you after... after the war. I don't want you to leave! " Timothy finally let his tears fall. He bawled into my shoulder, leaving me to contemplate what he said.
"I'm flattered that you want to stay with me, and that you want me to go with you, but I couldn't say yes to him." The boy pushed back, wiping his face.
"Why not?" His stubborn lips pulled themselves into a pout as his brows knotted together. There was something about the look in his eyes that made me feel jocular. He was too young to understand, yet he tried his hardest to.
"You see, some girls are uncompromising when it comes to their views on marriage. They refuse to marry unless they're in love with the man," I gently brushed the hair out of his eyes as I spoke, "and I am one of those women."
"So, you're saying you don't love the Lieutenant Colonel?" I let a small smile grace my features even though I knew he'd see right through it. "Then why do you always get so upset with Madeline?"
"Wha-"
"And why did you make the same face he made? You gave each other funny looks all the time!" I have no earthly clue what he was raving about anymore. What faces? And how does he know about any of the prior occasions with Madeline? "Don't you trust him?"
"What?" Timothy finally removed himself from my person, giving me his version of a reprimanding face.
"Do you trust the Lieutenant Colonel?"
"Well, I... I suppose I do, yes," Did I really? Could I trust my enemy, even if they didn't know who I was? How could I be sure that I was safe when I was a spy?
"That's what love is, silly! You do love him, you just don't want to admit it!" So now I have a child telling me what love is? Who's next? The stable boy? "You should go fix things before they leave!"
"Leave?" My heart suddenly stopped. How could I forget that they were leaving?
Timothy's pout returned as he shuffled his feet into the dirt below him. "Father decided that now's the time to head up north, but Madeline, Sabrina, and I have to stay here. It's not fair!"
I tuned out the rest of his rant. I had completely forgotten that the battalion would be leaving soon. My brothers are leaving, the Lieutenant Colonel is leaving, the general is leaving, everyone is leaving. Which means I no longer have any ties to the plantation here anymore.
~~
Tomorrow.
Due to undisclosed circumstances, the general decided to leave the next day. Of course, everyone knew what those circumstances were.
I had to sit an entire evening, watching Madeline suffocate Gabriel. I couldn't say or do anything. Instead, my brothers tried to distract me with different topics of conversation, or with light humor. Nothing had a lasting solution, however, with Madeline purposefully raising her voice every so often, or laughing far louder than what was necessary.
I was annoyed even now, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
I could still see her overly zealous smile, the way she clung to his uniform, and how she unabashedly flirted. All of it made me grow hot with anger. Just the thought made me want to tear my hair out and scream.
The worst part of all: he didn't pull away like he usually did.
I could hear a clock in the distance strike one, but I didn't dare remove myself from the mattress. I was afraid to run into him. I was afraid of saying something misleading, or revealing how this past evening made me feel.
All of it meant nothing.
Just because I felt all of those things doesn't mean I'm in love. Trusting someone doesn't mean you love them. Wanting to become better doesn't mean anything. It was normal to change the way one acts around others. Gabriel just makes me want to enhance my morals.
I love my brothers, and they don't make me feel the need to be different. See?
Why was I trying to prove this to myself? I know my emotions better than anyone else. I don't need anyone to tell me what I feel. In fact, I'm tired of having others give their input on matters that don't involve them.
I turned onto my side, gazing at the first quarter moon. The light barely cast a glow through my window, yet it was comforting all the same. Slowly, I felt the heavy drowsiness of sleep.
I didn't even notice the letter being slipped underneath my door until late the next morning.
YOU ARE READING
What Happens By Candlelight
Historical Fiction#1 in Revolutionary #2 in Patriot Christina Evans is everything a lady should be, refined, elegant, and clever to top it all. She survives on her family plantation alone, awaiting the day she hears from her brothers off at war while she herself gets...