Her Rebel Heart (31 page)

“Penitence, I have given my consent for Jack Farrington to marry you. I have no doubts about the boy's loyalty to you and that his commitment is to the cause of Parliament.”

“Oh, Father, that is wonderful!”

Penitence kissed her father and jumped up, running over to Deliverance who hugged her fondly.

“The wedding will be conducted as soon as the banns are called and as my son-in-law, I have no hesitation in leaving Kinton Lacey in his hands.”

“What?” Deliverance released her sister and stood staring at her father. “Jack is your new garrison commander? Father, no. That's not fair.”

He met her outburst with surprise on his face. “Deliverance? Are you questioning my judgement?”

“Father, you don't understand...” she struggled to find the words to explain what Kinton Lacey meant to her. Words failing her, she ran from the room.

Luke, busy with Sir John’s demands did not see Deliverance until supper. He took his place next to her, pressing his knee against hers. When she did not respond, he glanced at her, seeing the downward cast of her mouth.

The reason for her despondency became apparent when Sir John rose to his feet and announced that his daughter Penitence would marry Jack Farrington. Everyone stood to applaud the news. Amidst the cheers, Sir John held up his hand.

“Of course, now I am blessed with a son-in-law to take the worry of Kinton Lacey from my shoulders, I shall be leaving the castle in Jack's capable hands.”

Luke’s fingers clenched as he looked at Deliverance's stiff shoulders and bowed head. She rose to kiss her sister and offer public congratulations to the happy couple, but he knew her heart would be breaking.

He seemed to be alone in understanding what Kinton Lacey meant to Deliverance and his hands by his side clenched into fists at Sir John's blindness to everything his daughter had done. As she sat down again his fingers sought hers under the table and he squeezed them in silent sympathy.

Sir John set down his glass and turned to Luke. “Collyer, I quite forgot. A letter came for you in Gloucester just after you left. I have it about me, somewhere. Oh, here we are.”

He handed Luke a much creased and stained square of folded paper. Luke turned it over. He read the words written on the outside, recognising the writing and for a moment the world tilted on its access.

How had she found him?

There could be no good news to be imparted in this missive. He stowed the letter inside his jacket without breaking the seal.

“Luke?” Deliverance looked at him with an enquiring lift of her eyebrow.

He smiled at her. “Nothing of any importance.”

His heart hammered at the lie. Whatever the letter contained, it was not something to be read in public. It could wait until later when he was alone.

The paper burned in his jacket all through the interminable meal but as soon as Sir John dismissed them, Luke retired to his room.

With Sir John's return, Luke and Ned had found other quarters in the upper floor of the residence, in a room badly damaged by shot. It had begun to rain and the roof leaked abominably.

Luke found a dry corner, lit a candle and with shaking fingers pulled out the paper. He traced Elizabeth’s bold hand “
Msr Luke Collyer, officer of Gloucester garrison
.” His sister had always been tenacious. Somehow she had tracked him down.

He broke the seal, swallowed and read the short epistle three times before the import of the words sank home. He sat down heavily on the one chair in the bare room, balling the paper in his fist.

A gentle knock on the door roused him from his reverie as he recognised the coded knock as being Deliverance.

At his quick ‘
Come in’
, she pushed open the door and slipped inside. When he didn't rise to take her in his arms, she crossed over to him and knelt at his feet.

“Luke, what is it? You look as if you've seen a ghost?”

“In a way I have,” he said.

“Who was the letter from?” Deliverance asked.

He lifted his hand and Deliverance took the crumpled paper, smoothing it on the table.

“Who is Beth?” she asked, having only glanced at the signature. He heard the suspicion in her voice and smiled.

“My sister,” he said.

“She has terrible writing,” Deliverance said. “I can barely read it. Oh, it's dated over five months ago.”

“Read it,” he said.

“
Dearest Luke
,” Deliverance began, “
It is only by sheer chance that I have had reports of you being seen in Gloucester so I am sending this there, even though it is in enemy hands, in the hope that somehow it will reach you. They tell me you go by the name of Collyer so I have addressed this accordingly. I write with sad news of great import to you. Our father was wounded in a minor skirmish in March. He came home to recuperate but the wound turned gangrenous and he died in great agony. During his last illness he spoke your name and clutched at my sleeve, beseeching me to find you and to tell you that in his heart you are forgiven. He did not, despite all his threats, change his will and you remain the heir to the estates in Yorkshire. The rest, of course, have passed to Nicholas and he is now Viscount Harcourt. I fear he remains obdurate and unforgiving. He will not hear your name mentioned in his presence. So we remain a house divided but, despite Nick's injunctions, I wished you to know that father's last thoughts were of you and that while Nick is away from home, dear brother, you are always welcome in this house. I long to see you. Your loving sister Beth.”

Deliverance set the letter down on the table and rose to her feet. “Who are you, Luke?”

Luke swallowed. “I am the disappointing younger son of the late Viscount Harcourt of Chirton in Warwickshire. My brother, Nicholas, who fights for the King, has, as you have read taken my father’s title and estates. My sister Beth stands between us both, as she always has done. The good news is that I apparently now own quite considerable estates in Yorkshire, which were my mother’s.”

Deliverance stared at him. She shook her head, opened her mouth and shut it again. For the first time in all of their acquaintance, Deliverance had been struck dumb.

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “Here, with you, I am plain Captain Luke Collyer. Collyer was my mother’s name. The person referred to in that letter no longer exists. I have been estranged from my family since two years before this accursed war.”

“Tell me again what did you do?”

Luke looked away, propping his elbow on the table and leaning his head on his hand. He took no pride in the cause of the family estrangement. “I...I cuckolded my brother,” he said. “Nick entered King Charles' service when he was still a boy and spent most of his time at court. He advanced rapidly and was betrothed to marry one of the Queen's ladies.” He took a breath, feeling the heat of embarrassment burning his face. “I'm not proud of what I did but I only went where she led.” He brought his gaze back to face Deliverance and swallowed. He may as well confess all. “Nick found us in bed. There was a terrible row and father banished me from England. When I returned our political differences put a greater divide between us. I’m sorry to deceive you, Deliverance. I thought it a life I had put behind me.”

She looked at him for a long moment before she said. “None of that matters to me. You are Luke Collyer, soldier of fortune and the man I love.”

He caught her in his arms and kissed her. As they broke apart, he drew her in closer, wrapping his arms around her. “And I am trying to summon the courage to ask your father for your hand in marriage. Will you marry me, Deliverance Felton?”

Her arms tightened around him. “I think that would be a terrible idea,” she said. “But if you're the best offer I'm ever likely to get, then yes”

He laughed and looked down at her strong face with the beautiful eyes and sharp, determined chin. “Yes, I'm afraid you are stuck with me,” he murmured as he bent to kiss her.

And maybe, when all of this is over, you will be Deliverance Harcourt, mistress of a beautiful house in Yorkshire, that will bring you solace for the loss of Kinton Lacey, he thought.

Chapter 24

L
uke stood outside the library, which had been turned back to its rightful owner, staring at the blackened studs in the old oak door. By his side, Deliverance fidgeted. He had never seen her so nervous and in truth riding into the teeth of enemy musket fire seemed less daunting than facing Sir John Felton. He squeezed her hand and knocked.

At Sir John's abrupt ‘
Enter
’, Deliverance put her hand to her chest and flattened herself against the wall.

They had agreed, after some argument, that Luke would face Sir John on his own so he turned the handle and stepped into the familiar room, shutting the door behind him. He had every confidence that Deliverance would have her ear to the keyhole.

Sir John sat at the table, now cleared of Deliverance's books and Luke's papers. A bottle of wine stood at his elbow and he appeared to be engrossed in writing a report. Above him, the man’s portrait glowered at Luke as if sensing what business Luke had come about.

He looked up. “What is it, Collyer?”

Luke decided to come straight to the point. Sir John was not a man for idle chatter.

“Sir, I would like to request your daughter's hand in marriage,” he said.

Sir John straightened in the chair, his face taking on the forbidding cast of his portrait above him. “Which daughter?”

Luke stared at the man.
Which daughter?
Penitence was betrothed. As far as he knew that left only one other.

“Deliverance,” he replied.

Sir John turned an interesting shade of puce. “Don't be ridiculous, Collyer. What on earth makes you think that I would let you marry my daughter, a man with your reputation?”

Luke swallowed. He had played this over in his mind and in every iteration, Sir John had stood and grasped him by the hand and wished him well.

“Sir, I assure you—”

Sir John rose to his feet, with a finger pointed at Luke's chest “I sent you here against my better judgment. I know all about your little escapade to Ludlow and how you deliberately endangered my daughter's life. If you think for one moment that I would hand her over to you…in marriage. Marriage! My daughter marry a scapegrace such as you?” Spittle formed at the corners of Sir John’s mouth as he spoke.

“I—” Luke got no further.

“First you get her shot and then you send her out as bait for that bastard, Farrington to have his way with. She could have been killed, or worse. I was prepared to turn a blind eye to your lack of judgment but if I thought for a minute that you...you... if you have compromised my daughter's honor, Collyer. I warned you what would happen.”

Luke stared at Sir John. His mind had gone completely blank and he could think of nothing to say in his defence.

The door burst open and Deliverance raced in, her anger matching her father's.

“That wasn't how it was, Father. Luke saved my life.”

“Be quiet, Deliverance.” Her father roared her. “This man has taken advantage of your innocence and placed you in grave danger on more than one occasion. He is an irresponsible, womanising—”

“I want to marry him.” Deliverance's voice rose, choked with emotion. “You are letting Penitence marry Jack Farrington.”

“That is an entirely different case. They have been betrothed for years and Jack is a thoroughly respectable young man whereas this,” Felton waved a hand at Luke, “wastrel and whoremonger.” He straightened and ran his hands down his coat as if the gesture would erase his anger. In a more moderate tone, he said, “In the circumstance, Collyer I cannot permit you to spend another night under this roof. Barrett will take Farrington on to London. You can take the rest of your men and find service with the Earl of Essex. I never want to see your face again. I want you out of my home and away from my daughter by sundown tonight.”

“Luke! Do something.” Deliverance turned to him.

He knew what she wanted him to say but the words stuck in his throat. If he tried to speak the white anger that burned in his heart at the injustices just meted out to him would cause him to act intemperately. Memories of the arguments with his father flooded back, with their equally disastrous consequences. He needed to clear his head before he spoke another word.

He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

“Deliverance Felton, do not move!” Sir John said before the door slammed shut.

In the corridor he stopped and leaned his head against the cold stone of the castle wall. This was what was meant by the old proverb ‘as you make your bed, so shall you lie in it’. Womanising and drink had for so long sustained him, masking the bitterness, anger and pain of his family's rejection.

In Deliverance he had found not only his equal but a friend, a soul mate. He straightened, hearing the sound of Sir John's wrath echoing down the corridor.

A man fought for one's friends, gave his life for your friends, you didn't just walk away. For a lover you fought to the death. He threw open the door.