“I can imagine, yet it is not something either of us can do anything about, sir.”
“Oh, you are so wrong. I’ve watched you for nearly a year, and I am telling you that I intend to have you. Here and now!”
He lunged at me, catching my wrists, forcing his lips against my face. I turned my head, so he ended up slobbering all over my cheeks. My long skirts prevented me from raising my knee with the force I wanted to, so, twisting in his grip, I freed one hand and I elbowed him in the throat. He released me, clutching at his injured part, so I punched him on the temple with all my power.
He went down, hard and dazed.
On hearing a commotion, Oliver rushed in and saw him fall. He picked up a pitchfork, so I had to physically restrain him from stabbing my brother-in-law.
“No, Oliver, leave him!”
“But he tried to…”
“No matter, he didn’t, so leave him!”
I knelt down and checked James was breathing. This situation wasn’t going to get any better, as I knew I had to tell Roger.
Oliver finished grooming my mare, as I sat watching for James’ recovery.
“Shall I…?” Oliver started.
“Oliver, don’t fret. Just put her into her stall, there’s a good fellow.”
I must have hit James hard, for he took several moments to come round fully. He looked dazed for a moment or two, but then frowned as he recalled what happened. He struggled onto his elbows and glared at me.
“You hit me!”
“You will do well to remember that I am married, as are you. Should you try anything like that again, I will hit you again. Now, you will leave this plantation, as you are no longer welcome here.”
He struggled up onto his feet, glancing at Oliver who was hovering in the background with a mean expression and the pitchfork.
“You struck me while my guard was down, and in front of the hired help! I will have to teach you some manners. This land was mine, I made you what you are, you ungrateful wench!”
I nodded, turning round to Oliver. “Oliver, please leave us alone. This man needs to be taught some manners.”
“Yes, Mum,” he said, reluctantly leaving us alone. I turned back to the smouldering James.
“You declare yourself. Please leave now, or be assured that I will make you realise just how stupid it would be to threaten me,” I said.
Dusting himself off, he swore, but stood looking at me. Slowly he unfastened his belt, wrapping a couple of loops around his right hand.
“I shall teach you a lesson in manners. You shall learn your station!”
“My station? Sir, you are in danger of learning rather more than you bargained for.”
He advanced towards me, a cruel sneer on his flushed face.
Hampered by long skirts, I knew that high kicks would be relatively ineffective, so I adopted a casual unarmed combat stance, palms open and ready.
Frowning slightly at my unexpected response, he continued his advance, raising his arm to strike me with the belt. Still I didn’t move, allowing him to get within six feet, before stepping rapidly in towards him.
Successfully thwarting his action to strike, he altered his arm to try to side-swipe at me. I caught the belt, turned and pulled as he stepped towards me. I hit him with two rapid punches to the upper chest, and skipped back out of range, as he staggered backwards.
“Come on, James, you can do better than that!”
Angry and confused, he rushed at me, seeking to grasp me and push me to the floor. I waited until the last moment, turned, lifting my skirts, and struck with a downward kick to his knee. He screamed and fell forwards as his leg collapsed. I followed through with a knee under his falling chin.
He went down again, this time for much longer.
I waited for ten minutes and then got bored, so I threw a bucket of water over him.
Looking at me fearfully, he spluttered back into consciousness. I said nothing, simply pointing at the door. He stood up, somewhat gingerly, turned and strode out of the stable. I heard the sounds of him riding away. It was then I saw Oliver hiding by the door.
“You watched?”
“Yes, Mum, sorry Mum, but I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“”You needn’t have worried, for I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. But thank you for caring. Now, go and finish your chores, and you are to speak of this to no one, understand?”
“Yes Mum, and Mum?”
“Yes Oliver.”
“You done him good and proper, Mum,” he said, chuckling.
“Yes, I rather think I may have done.”
Roger was not pleased when I told him. However, he wasn’t unduly surprised.
“James told me his marriage is a loveless one and he envied our relationship. I never thought he’d seek to take you like that. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here to protect you.”
“I looked after myself, but it can’t go on. I fear we shall have to move away, as I won’t live like this.” I then told him about my lack of friends amongst the women, as well as the attitude of some of the men.
“We shall move nearer to Washington. I would have the children in a better school, in any case. I fear I’m not a farmer, Jane, so will you mind moving again?”
“Can we afford to?”
He smiled. “I have been offered a substantial sum for the plantation, so the answer has to be yes. I meant to tell you, but I’ve been offered a commission in the army.”
“Which army?” I asked.
“The United States Army, as my experiences in the wars seem to be valued. I met a man who works in the government, they want me to recruit and train my own regiment of cavalry.”
Our lives were about to change again.
In 1817, after less than a year on this soil, we moved again, buying a large home in the township of Holmwood in Maryland, some twenty miles from Washington. I fear that Roger’s relationship with his brother was irreconcilable, so I felt annoyed that I was the cause.
Phyllis set up her shop in Washington, so her London styles and keen needlework meant the business was an immediate success. The children went to new schools, in which they thrived amongst better competition and more friends.
Roger, having formed his own regiment - the Maryland Dragoons, was now a full Colonel in the United States Army. Essentially, the army comprised of many such regiments, as it was more a collection of militia that came together in the face of a common enemy, than a standing army. Unlike the British and other European powers, America didn’t have the personnel or resources to have a full time professional army, relying instead on volunteers and a very small corps of professional soldiers who knew their business. Ironically, many of these had been officers or NCOs in His Britannic Majesty’s Army.
With the children growing up, for either they were in school or being looked after in the nursery, I found myself with time to devote for my real reason for being here, as well as supporting my husband. I made a point of accompanying him when he went to his regiment, so I had become familiar with all of his officers and many of the non commissioned officers as well. Sometimes, life was too complex and involved for me to be what I should have been, but I kept a close watch in all the newspapers for anything that would give away my enemies.
Most of the soldiers had little or no training, or experience. Some had been involved in the war with the British, and it took a strong character to deal with the mistrust that many bore ex-Britannic soldiers. Luckily Roger had such a strong character, and soon he had an excellent cadre upon which to build his regiment.
Locating Soames, the turncoat from Abingdon, was harder than I had anticipated. Eventually, after buying all the local newspapers I could, I found a short column in the Washington Chronicle on the hardy qualities of the Rhode Island Red poultry. As soon as I saw the name Ronald Reagan, I had to smile.