How to Love

Chapter Eight: The Middleton's Place

It has been a week since the little skirmish I had with Colonel Tavington. There were wanted posters for the Ghost posted on every visible tree to a road. Papa, wanting to be undiscovered by name, torn each and every one of them down. At least, all the ones that we've seen. 

Since our militia had been planning and ambushing, we've become a big worrisome for Lord General Cornwallis. He's sent out his best Calvary, the Green Dragoons, to scout for our militia. But they have had no luck. Our headquarters was stationed in a dark swamp, surrounded by many trees. Anyone who was willing to go through a muddy ground and spend minutes in the dark would try to scout us out. But frankly, there ain't many of those  people. Maybe the only people who were willing enough were us. 

The Great Danes we found on an ambush were sitting in front of Papa, eating their food. I watched as Papa got up and pulled out a small black bag. "Whatcha doin'?" I asked. 

"Smelting. We need more bullets." 

"But all of those supplies we've captured..Are they no use?" 

"They'll once run out. It's best we create more," he said dumping out the contents from the bag. 

Toys. Toys were the content. They were Redcoat soldiers that were once secured in a black bag, and now sprawled on the mud. Recongiznation came to me. Thomas used to play with these. 

"Papa, those are Thomas'...you shouldn't." I said quietly. 

"But we must." Papa replied. 

I shook my head. "Don't speak, Almyra. I don't want to be disturbed. You are dismissed." He said as I opened my mouth. 

I put my head down in surrender. "Yes, sir."

-Time skip to one week later-

A ball. A ball hosted by Lord General Cornwallis was going to be at the Middleton Place. This was a chance to spy. All those who had musical, dance, comedian, or any performing activity were invited to participate. Me, I had talent with the flute and the piccolo. They were manly instruments, but Papa didn't care. Only a few women would give me a look of disgust when I would bring them into Pembroke to show Anne my talent when we were younger. Men would also have the same emotion as the judgmental women. Who knew that instruments would be named to a gender. I certainly wouldn't have expected it. 

My flute and my piccolo were safety tucked away with me when I visited Aunt Charlotte's place two years ago. That was where I saw Anne again. 

When I was younger, Gabriel and I would go to Anne's house in the summers. This was when we were 6-10 years old. It stopped when we made Anne's teeth black. Mr. Howard was not amused. Neither was our papa. I would watch Anne play the piano, as she played it so well. Gabriel would sit next to her on the bench and play the bass clef. Anne always played the triple clef. I always made the tea. 

The inspiration for flute started when Reverend Oliver invited a man who played flute. The flute had this really beautiful, harmonic and melodic sound at the same time. Its sound was so clear, and the sound made me swoon. I was enchanted by it. Soon enough, I would receive the flute when I was twelve and start playing the piccolo at fifteen. 

My instruments were safely tucked in my horse's satchel when I went over to get her ready for the journey. But first, I would go to a house that was abandoned not so long ago from a rich family. There were rumors around the militia that all their stuff was left there. If so, I could find some excellent dresses for the owner had a daughter. 

I mounted my horse and took off, dirt flying into the air from the pounding hooves. Fifteen minutes later, I arrived. I unmounted my horse and tied her to a tree. "Stay," I told her.