"Hey," Edonine spoke. "Maybe we should pay him a visit, when… we get some time off," she spoke.
“Definitely,” he nodded, voice rough.
"Do you need help setting up our tent?" She asked.
“Only if you want to,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind if you rest.”
"I'll help," Francis decided, wiping his forehead.
John averted his eyes, face tense, he crossed his arms and left.
Peter watched him go and went back to working with his gun.
Skip? To s i m c o e ?)
(S U R E)
Chadine was eating dinner with Jane when the cold-eyed soldier returned to the mansion.
There was a knock on the door and Jane rose to open it. She cleared her throat. "Captain Simcoe…" she said, trying to cover the shake in her voice.
"Good evening." He replied with a forced smile. He wasn't wearing a wig, and bore surprisingly rich colored hair. But it didn't improve such a starchy, threatening personality.
She swallowed nervously. "Aren't you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"
"Yes." He replied curtly, walking inside. He dumped his coat on her. Noticeably, it wasn't the red one anymore— but the green of a Queen's Ranger Colonel.
She noted the color change, but didn't question him about it. She hung it up and followed him into the dining room, shooting Chadine a worried glance.
Chadine kept her eyes down.
"Oh, my." Simcoe spoke condescendingly. "What is the slave doing at the dining table?"
Jane's fear quickly turned to anger. "I forbid you to speak that way in my house, Captain."
He reared his chin, and gave her a stoney glare. "You have no right to speak that way to a Colonel, woman,"
Chadine's forehead was glossing with sweat. Her eyes spelled out one word: stop. She knew what that man was capable of.
Jane's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm afraid that you're being incredibly disrespectful, sir."
"You're being incredibly insufferable." He growled.
She stiffened. "I won't tolerate disrespect in my house, Colonel."
Simcoe stepped towards her, looking down at her as he always did, teeth nearly bared. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." He hissed through his teeth.
"Mrs. André.." Chadine spoke very quietly. "The baby.."
Jane backed away from him quickly. Her heart was pounding furiously.
"I'm sorry," he towered over the pregnant woman, "I did not hear you."
"I won't tolerate disrespect in my house," she repeated quietly, but firmly.
Simcoe inhaled deeply. The violent stranger reached and pushed hair behind her ear, "It would be a shame if you were hurt, Mrs. André."
She whimpered fearfully. "Please…"
(I'm blushing so hard rn!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
XD! )
He shoved her against the wall. Chadine let out a startled yelp, and stood abruptly from her chair.
Jane yelped and tried to push him away.
He leaned in dangerously close, and whispered—a hand on her stomach, in direct threat to her child within— "You. You will obey me, Mrs. André."
She was breathing heavily and shaking. John, where are you?
"Do you understand?" Simcoe hissed.
"Y-Yes," she whispered fearfully.
He hovered there for some time, and finally released her. "Now, I'm hungry. I take it if you have time to feed the slave, you can feed your superior."
Jane trembled and rushed from the room into the kitchen where she collapsed against the wall as soon as she was out of sight. She quickly covered her hand with her mouth to contain her sobs, and she prayed for her husband. John… wherever you are… come home. Please.
Chadine hurried to the kitchen past Simcoe, "Mrs. Jane, are you alright?" She breathed fearfully.
She whimpered into her hands. "I'm a fool, Chadine…"
