The Heart of a Patriot Love can Change a Life.but Loyalty can tear one Apart.

Chapter One

I believe I can truthfully quote the phrase "the world came crashing down about me", for my world indeed has. I've found things that, ever since I was a child I had believed to be stable, suddenly torn from my life with such violence that my heart nearly burst.

I myself am Cecelia Penny, daughter of William Penny, late of his Majesty's cavalry. My father was as much a loyalist in this time of war as any man has ever been, but his ways were not and never will be mine.

When the war officially began with the colonies, father, as a loyal citizen of Virginia, re-claimed his place in King George's ranks and rode off towards Concord - a ride from which he never returned. Seeing that my mother died when I was small, I found myself quite alone in the world, and as an only child, the recipient of a large inheritance. At fifteen it was far too much for me to handle, so for three years I remained suffering in Yorktown. It took me as long to realize that there was nothing to be gained through self pity, and within a month I had bought and moved to a mansion in Charlestown, South Carolina, just a few miles away from the home of my cousin Alexander.

When Charlestown fell to the British, I was forced to consider the political side of the war. The British had no right to pressure the colonials as they had, so after careful deliberation I found myself faced with patriotic leanings. As the daughter of a respected English man and a martyr for his majesty, I was forced to keep my private feeling to myself, and become what was expected of me.

Socializing with the officers was considered a necessary part of the life of a young lady; hence the invitations to parties began to accumulate along with the pressure from my cousin to attend them. It wasn't so much that I refused to mingle with the inhabitants of the city, it was more out of fear that I chose not to attend. In Alexander's words, I'm a sweet, charming girl, but in my own opinion, I'm not nearly that. I'm a petite, curvy thing, and not precisely what you'd call a beauty, Alex says 'adorable', meaning that I keep my wavy brown hair a bit shorter than normal, feature wise I'm rather unremarkable, I'm not thin but neither am I heavy, and I'd much rather put my muscles to work than sit and sew all day.

After my stack of invitations had grown to spectacular heights, I received a much more significant correspondence from General Lord Charles Cornwallis, inviting me to attend one of his infamous balls at his nearby mansion. As my pen was posed to write my refusal, I found myself face to face with a glaring Alexander.

"Cecelia."

I fear my sardonic side got the better of me.

"Alex."

He sighed. "Cecelia, why? Why do you refuse to accept your place in society? Is there a reason you will not meet the other ladies and the officers? Cecelia.you astound me."

"Alex, I feel uncomfortable among them.I.I can't."

He sat down beside me on the settee. "Cecelia, I love you with all my heart, and that is why I pressure you. If you never socialize how do you ever expect to.to."

"Carry on the family line?" I shot back.

From the sheepish look on his face I could easily read his thoughts.

"That's exactly what you and all the others want, isn't it? I know the way everyone thinks, Alex, I'm young, wealthy and noble.and I need to be married of to some fine gentleman to raise a family, just like every one else. Do you ever consider that maybe I willingly choose not to be like everyone else? Do you ever consider my feelings?"

He placed his arm around my shoulders and hugged me gently.

"Cecee.it's for your own good."

Perhaps it was the look in his eyes, or his use of my pet name, but I soon found myself at the gates of an extraordinary mansion.

As the carriage slowed to a halt, my Negro driver Samuel assisted me down and escorted me to the door, and after inquiring when to return, left me trapped, and quite alone.

On the back lawn, I found countless numbers of scarlet-coated officers and stuffy ladies, most with towering wigs powdered to absolute whiteness. I fingered my own neatly curled locks and felt just a bit more intimidated. In dress I was just as stylish as they were, with my light green silken dress, pearls and ivory fan. The lace at my neck and the ribbons twined throughout my hair completed the outfit, and restored a little of my confidence.but just a little.

For an hour or more I engaged in idle chitchat with a few ladies, more or less about the treason of the colonials and the triumph of Lord Cornwallis. I said little and flitted around the officers even less. Unexplainably, I held in my heart a terrible dread towards the officers of the crown, a deep fear that chills through my bones even now as I tell of if.

When the ball reached its climax - that is to say the presentation of Lord Cornwallis - I found myself nearly at the front of the crowd, and, to my dismay, in the clear line of sight for the General.

Lord Cornwallis was accompanied by two officers, one possessing a clear cut face and a seeming cloak of fright about him, and the other a mousy sort of man, the type of which you see only once in your life and spend the rest of your days trying to forget.

My introduction to the General was, thankfully, brief. I was courteous and well mannered, despite the rising urge to snub my nose at the pompous and arrogant manner the man surrounded himself with. Shortly he strolled on, with the mousy man at his heels like a puppy following a child. The frightening man, however, held back and turned to speak in hushed tones to another officer who reminded me much of the first.

Seeing my chance, I quickly turned and made my way back across the lawn, hoping not to draw any unwanted attention. Only once was I stopped by a lady who had, at one time, known my father. After a drawn out conversation on loyalty to the crown, I received an invitation to visit with she and her family. Shortly I excused myself and whirled around, hoping to escape from the stuffy climate of formal social life, but instead found myself face to face, literally, with the officer I had dreaded.

"Forgive me, sir," I managed to say, despite the fact that my mouth was suddenly dry. "I wasn't paying attention as I should have been, and for that I beg your pardon."

He smiled. It wasn't a happy, comfortable smile, but it was the grin of a buzzard as it sees it's prey helpless against it's might.

"You've no need, to fret, milady, all is forgiven."

He brushed past me then without another word, and I found myself feeling relieved, that is, until I noticed the man's comrade standing directly in front of me.

"Excuse me miss," He caught up my hand and kissed it in the most chivalrous

way. "I don't believe we've met."

"We have now." I managed a smile, and in return was graced with his.

"May I ask your name?"

I nearly choked on the words, but managed to speak at last. "I'm Cecelia Penny, daughter of-"

"-William Penny." He finished my sentence for me, and a faraway look appeared in his eyes. "I rode with your father at Concord.I'm sorry."

While he was speaking I was able to get my first good look at him. He was young, perhaps only a few years older than I, and he appeared to be the epitome of what is expected of officers. He stood tall and straight, with a proud look in his intelligent, steely gray eyes. His chestnut hair was pulled back into a tail at the nape of his neck, and wound tightly to keep it in check. His green dragoon uniform was spotless, and nicely tailored to his reasonably trim figure. Its buttons reflected the sunlight, giving him the appearance of some sort of deity.

I could tell as I studied him that he, in turn, was studying me, and the thought perturbed me slightly.

"I didn't seem to catch your name, sir." I said politely, and with much more benevolence than I was truly feeling.

He started, shocked out of his reverie. "I'm sorry. My name is Captain Henry Andrew Morrisworth of his majesty's cavalry. I served under your father at Concord, and now I've fallen under the command of Colonel Banastre Tarleton, whom, I presume you've already met."

I shook my head, sending my curls into motion. "I do not believe I've had the.privilege of meeting Col. Tarleton, but his reputation as a fine officer of the crown precedes him."

Captain Morrisworth chuckled. "Oh indeed you have met him, you had a little tousle with him just a minute ago."

An incredible nauseating feeling overcame my senses. I had been face to face with a bloody murderer, a man with the deaths of hundreds upon his hands - with the souls of countless victims on his heart. 'Bloody Ban the Butcher'- the scourge of the southern patriots, and here I was, chatting away with one of his officers.

"P-please excuse me, Captain. I suddenly feel rather ill." I turned away, hoping he would allow me to leave- but he was not so easy to shake.

"Perhaps if you walked a bit you'll feel well. I know that walking always strengthens me."

I nodded. "Alright, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"Miss Penny, please allow me to escort you." Morrisworth smiled and gently began to lead me away from the crowd, despite my volley of protests.

Eventually I felt obliged to give in, and for seemingly eternity, he peppered me with questions about myself, my family and my father. It was not until the guests began to disperse that he let me out of his site, and as I silently hoped all through the carriage ride home, out of his mind.

But deep down inside, I knew I was wrong.