Her Rebel Heart (13 page)

Read Her Rebel Heart Online

Authors: Alison Stuart

Tags: #Military, #Historical Romance, #Historical, #Romance, #England, #Medieval

Luke crouched low over the horse's head and prayed.

Deliverance had been up and down to the tower watching for the men since mid-morning. As the evening drew on, annoyance turned to concern. Her fears had been justified. Luke had walked into a trap and was probably captured...or dead. At the last thought, her heart tightened.

Penitence, calm as always, looked up from her needlework as Deliverance paced the floor of the parlour.

“He will be fine, Liv,” she said.

“I have a bad feeling,” Deliverance blurted out. “I told him not to go. If anything's happened to him, it will be his own fault.” She clasped her hands together. “I tried to get Ned Barrett to go out after them but he says his orders are to stay within the castle. He won’t defy Collyer’s orders.” Deliverance did another round of the parlour. “Collyer’s so stubborn, arrogant and...and...”

“A man?” Penitence suggested.

Melchior entered the room without knocking. “Some of Captain Collyer's men are back,” he said.

Deliverance’s heart lifted for a moment before sinking back as she realised what Melchior had said.

Some of his men...not Captain Collyer
.

Melchior signalled to a man waiting outside the door to enter. He all but stumbled into the room, his face drawn and grey, his eyes red-rimmed and haunted. Deliverance took one look at him and knew that something had occurred at Byton--something terrible. Her first thought was of Luke and that terrible nagging fear that had haunted her all day crystallised. She took a deep breath. She had to maintain control. If she fell in a weeping heap on the floor, that would serve no purpose.

“What happened?” Deliverance refrained from grasping the man by his dirty collar and shaking him.

“Farrington was waiting for us at the bridge over the Teme. We got away but we had to split up.”

“Captain Collyer?”

“He's with the others. They're not back yet?” The man shot a glance at Melchior who shook his head.

Deliverance glanced through the window at the darkening sky. If Luke was in trouble surely he would wait until the cover of darkness to make his way home?

The man sensed her concern. “He'll be fine, ma'am. I've served with him this year past and he can look after himself.”

The man's assurance provided no comfort. If he was still alive, Luke was out there when he should have been safe within the castle walls.

A shout went up from the courtyard. Deliverance hurried across to the window and saw a small group of horsemen riding into the castle confines. The heads on their beasts sagged with exhaustion as they drew rein.

As people ran out with torches, Deliverance counted the horsemen in. Ten men had gone out, five had returned in the first party. She counted...three horses... there should have been five.

She gathered up her skirts and ran down to the courtyard as the last two horsemen entered. Sergeant Hale with someone riding pillion on the horse with him and the unmistakable outline of Luke Collyer, hatless behind him. The gates slammed shut behind him.

Deliverance took a steadying breath. All the patrol was now accounted for. Her fears had been unfounded. Now she could afford to be angry.

She gathered her skirts and descended down into the courtyard but as she approached him and saw Luke's grim face, her caustic greeting stopped in her throat.

She looked from Luke's face to the other men and saw the story confirmed in their eyes. She could smell it on their clothes, the stench of smoke and something else, a sickly sweet smell of decay. Lovedie’s story had been true, all of it. Charles Farrington had murdered the garrison at Byton before slighting the castle.

Luke dismounted, leaning against the animal's neck as if too weary to move any further. A red-headed boy slid off Sergeant Hale's horse and stood looking around at the gathering crowd. Deliverance heard a shriek and turned to see Lovedie pushing her way through the crowd.

“Toby! Oh Toby, ye're safe!”

Deliverance glanced at Luke.

“Her brother,” he said, his tone heavy. He looked spent, dark circles under his eyes that had not been there the previous day.

The Brown siblings threw their arms around each other, both crying with relief.

Lovedie looked up at Luke. “Oh, Captain Collyer, how can I ever thank you?”

Luke stiffened and he shook his head. “It was the boy's own wits that saved him, not I.”

Lovedie seized his hands. “We owe you our lives, sir. We'll not forget your kindness.”

Luke extricated his hands and shook his head.

“Nothing any good Christian wouldn't do.” He looked around the assembled garrison. “Farrington is on the move and he will be with us come the morning. It's time to shut the gates. Those who want to go, leave now.”

No one moved.

“We're here to the end, sir,” Truscott said and the Kinton Lacey men nodded in agreement.

“Lovedie?” Luke looked at the girl. “You and the boy've just been through a siege, there's no call to go through another.”

Lovedie straightened, tightening her arm around her brother. The siblings exchanged glances.

“We're not leavin',” she said. “I told you, we owe you our lives and if that's what the good Lord wants of us, then we'll stay and see it out.”

Toby looked up at Luke with undisguised worship in his eyes. “I'm your man now, Captain Collyer. I can fire a musket as good as any.”

Luke clapped the boy on the shoulder as Hale held up his arms and boomed, “On your knees and let us pray to God Almighty for the souls of the slaughtered at Byton and for our safe delivery from the enemy. And let us beseech God to smite our enemy and give us victory.”

As one every man, woman and child sank to their knees in the muddy courtyard to echo Sergeant Hale's fervent prayers.

As Luke rose, brushing the mud from his breeches, Deliverance put her hand on his sleeve.

“Luke?”

He looked down at her, his face grim. “We don't have time for pleasantries, Deliverance. We need to get as many of the villagers as want to come in here along with as much livestock as we can fit. Ned...”

He strode off leaving her standing in the middle of the courtyard. Halfway to the gate, he stopped and turned, looking at her with a smile on his face.

“Well, my lady? Are you just going to stand there? I can't do this by myself.”

 

Chapter 9

 

T
hey heard Farrington's advance long before he arrived. The steady cadence of his drums and the tramp of feet drifted toward Kinton Lacey with the soft summer breeze, long before the first soldiers came into sight.

Deliverance watched from the castle wall, anxiously scanning the road for the patrol Luke had led out at first light. The five horsemen came galloping up the road toward the castle. A shout went up from the Gatehouse and the horse's hoofs clattered on the cobbles as they entered the castle. Hitching up her skirts, Deliverance and ran down into the courtyard to meet them. As she placed her hand on the bridle of Luke's horse and looked up into his grim face, she knew the news would not be good.

He unbuckled the heavy steel ‘pot’ helmet he wore and pulled it off, shaking out his sweat dampened hair.

“Well?” she demanded.

A wry, humourless smile twisted his lips. “We’re honoured. Sir Richard himself is riding at the head of the column.” Luke paused. “I calculate he has three hundred men with him as well as all the guns we saw at Ludlow.”

At the memory of the impressive arsenal they had seen demonstrated on the water meadow at Ludlow, Deliverance’s courage wavered. She looked away and took a deep breath to steady her nerve, as Luke swung off his horse.

“Is everyone inside?” he asked.

She nodded and Luke turned to Sergeant Hale.

“Shut the gates, Hale.”

“Sir!” Hale turned on his heel, already bellowing the orders.

It took three men to shut the heavy gates, stoutly reinforced with new cut oak. With its chains clattering, the newly repaired portcullis juddered to the ground behind the gates with a resounding thump.

Kinton Lacey had become once more the fortress it had been designed to be.

Deliverance looked up at the walls and saw the garrison already deploying to their rehearsed positions, the sun glinting from the metal on their muskets and helmets. Buckets of water had been placed at strategic positions on the walls and around the courtyard, ready to deal with the inevitable fires. They were as ready as they would ever be.

A hand rested on her shoulder and Luke said, “Nothing more to be done, Mistress Felton.”

“When will he be here?”

“Within the hour.”

Deliverance nodded and gave Luke a brave smile. “Then I will be waiting for him.”

Preparing for the imminent arrival of a besieging force held some odd similarities with the expected arrival of an exalted guest. One dressed for the occasion. Luke considered his rather limited wardrobe, and decided on grim, military efficiency.

Toby had burnished the steel breastplate, helmet and gorget, and the leather of his baldric shone like glass. He donned the stiff leather buff coat and allowed Toby, who had, unasked, assumed the role of his manservant to buckle on his armour.

“You terrify me,” Ned said with a smile as Luke turned to leave the room.

Eschewing the heavy pot helmet for his hat, Luke clapped his friend on the shoulder and the two men clattered down the grand stairs of the residence to wait for Deliverance.

She came running down the stairs, dashing past them in her haste to reach the battlements.

Luke caught her arm as she passed and ran his eye down at her slight figure, clad in a man's breeches and leather jerkin. In her right hand she carried a handsome Wheelock musket, nearly as long as she was high. He seized the weapon and thrust it at Ned.

She squirmed in his grip. “Unhand me, Captain Collyer,” she fumed.

Luke shook his head. “You cannot wear that ensemble.”

Deliverance shook off his arm and glared up at him. “I've worn it before.”

“What do you mean you've worn it before?”

“Last time Farrington was here. I took my place with my men on the wall.” She looked at Blakelocke. “Melchior will tell you, I am a very good shot.”

Luke glanced at Melchior's impassive face. “I have no doubt you are, Mistress Felton, but I am not letting you out of this house dressed like that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I am not staying in here like some helpless milksop while you negotiate with Farrington.”

“I am not suggesting you do that,” Luke took a deep breath and schooled himself to patience. “What I am saying is that I do not need you on the wall. I do not need to risk you being killed. You are too valuable.”

“Oh.” The defiance went out of Deliverance's eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I will hate myself for saying this, but the men seem to adore you.” He paused and the corners of his mouth quirked into a smile. “Obviously they don't know you well enough.”

Anger flared again in Deliverance's eyes again and he held up a placatory hand. “You have earned their respect and their admiration precisely because you are a woman who has shown incredible bravery. That is what is needed. They want to protect you and you need to show them you are worthy of their protection.”

Penitence, who had followed her sister down the stairs, laid a hand on her sister's arm.

“Peace, sister. I understand, Captain Collyer. You need Deliverance to be a woman worthy of their affection,” she said.

Luke gave Penitence a relieved smile. “Precisely.” He addressed Deliverance. “Think of good Queen Bess...What did she say?
'Although I have the body of a weak and feeble woman, I have the heart and soul of a King of England
'. Those men at Tilbury would have died for her on the spot. I need you to be Queen Bess.”

“But this is my castle and I will defend it as I see fit.”

Penitence shook her head. “In this case, Liv, I think Captain Collyer has a point.” She looked at Luke and smiled. “Leave her to me. We will be right back.” She took her sister by the arm and propelled her back up the stairs.

It seemed to take forever before Penitence reappeared at the top of the stairs with a smile on her serene face.

She looked down at the men. “Ready?”

Other books

3rd World Products, Book 17 by Ed Howdershelt
The Gorgon by Kathryn Le Veque
The Arrangement by Felice Stevens
The Jungle Books by Rudyard Kipling, Alev Lytle Croutier