The Patriot's Letter | Gabriel Martin | The Patriot

Chapter One: Suitors, Sewing, & Scandals

So, move me baby, shake me like the bows of a willow tree.

Who was Patience Blackwell? If she sat herself down in front of a mirror, as she did every morning, with the servant girl, Ruth, pulling on her stays, who would she say she was. Was she a liar? Most certainly. A cheap whore? Debatable, but most likely true. Was she most a gossip? No one could dispute that. But, was she the most sought after, coveted girl by men and women alike in the whole of Charlestown, South Carolina? Most certainly.

Patience, as she did every morning, ate her oatmeal in front of the mirror, letting the servant girl dote on her. She loved the idea surrounding love – loved to be worshipped. Men courted her often and she had broken more hearts then one. Her first lover was fighting for the Crown in the Caribbean and sent her pretty things and scandalous letters.

Patience Blackwell was from good stock, a rich family with strong ties to both the plantations of the North and to the South. Her father was a high-ranking legislator in the South Carolina assembly, and as the first-born daughter of her family, she was destined to keep the house and marry rich. Her eldest brother had already received the plantation.

"My flower," Her sister-in-law called, bustling into the room, "You needn't go out today, what in this weather?" She fanned herself before sinking down onto her sister-by-marriage's bed.

"Ahh, but I do, Ginny," Patience chided, standing up so she could be laced into her clean, crisp crinoline. The muted yellow complimented both her tanned summer skin and deep auburn hair nicely, "Remember, I must take Charity to her sewing circle and then I'm to lounge by the market with some of the neighborly girls until she is done. We're preparing for the ball tonight, they say some men from the North are down. It's to be held at Abigail Williams's house, you know her family."

"Patience, are you prepared for that, though? What shall you wear?"

"Something festive and patriotic, those Northern men like the colors of red and blue, wouldn't you say, perhaps Daddy is right and I should settle down with someone. Connect our families."

"My darling," Her sister-in-law continued with the pet names, how she worried about the eldest daughter of the Blackwell clan, "You've said that about the last three men who have courted you. They've all come from good stock."

"And yet," Patience turned as soon as she was in the dress, "All so dreadfully boring, tell me, why did you marry my brother? Was it for love?"

"I married your brother for comfort, and he has given me as such. A strapping son to carry on our line and your good family's name and our newest child, lest a she be born. How unfair it must be to the other girls, for they pale in comparison to the blessings I have received. But, you, my dearest Patience, have always been one of the greatest blessings – for now I have a sister I can confide in. I can only wish you the same with your expected husband."

"And what about the Captain?" Patience chuckled, talking out loud to herself, fixing her sleeves so they were low on her shoulder, her bosom resting heavily against her stays.

"Oh, the Captain. Dashing as he is, as much as he is infatuated by the sight, will never be wed to you, a shame his poor wife is all that he has to go home to." Ginny spoke. 

"A shame you've become a friend and less of an older sister," Patience laughed, setting into her shoes.

"And it's a shame that you've been raised to behave so uncouthly," Virginia Blackwell's eyes twinkled, "For the way you flit and flounce about the streets is most unbecoming of a woman your age – what shall the suitors think?"