Her Rebel Heart (5 page)

Curtis had turned an alarming shade of purple during his recitation. Now he exploded. “How dare you presume to tell me your business, Captain Collyer. Mistress Felton, I will not stand here to be insulted by this... this... tinker's boy!”

“Tinker's boy?” Luke stared at the preposterous man. “I am touching thirty years of age and as for my birthright—” He snapped his mouth shut before he betrayed himself.

Curtis ignored him, rounding on Deliverance. “I have no wish to be lectured to by any lackey of your father's. Take your captain back to Kinton Lacey and leave me to the protection of my own home. Your father showed no such generosity of spirit towards me over the matter of Brough's Wood and I told him then, and I'll tell you now, I will not have any more dealings with Feltons, of whatever gender. Good day to you both.”

Luke took a step backwards towards the door. He gave an ungracious bow and as he straightened, he said, keeping his tone low and moderate, an effort in the circumstances, “I apologise if I have offended you, Colonel Curtis. We have only your interests, and those of the souls within these walls, at heart. We will not trouble you again.”

“Out,” Curtis screamed.

It was not until they had put a few hundred yards between themselves and Byton that Luke looked at Deliverance for the first time. Her face was ashen and her mouth set in a grim line.

She glanced at him. “Stupid, stupid man! I did warn you.”

“Unfortunately, this war is full of men just like him,” Luke said.

Deliverance glanced at him. “But you were right. Even I could see that castle cannot be defended.”

“If Farrington has any sense, he will move on it first,” Luke said, thinking aloud.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Deliverance spoke.

“Why are you only a captain? You clearly have sufficient age and experience to hold a much higher rank.”

Luke looked at her in surprise at the question. “I thank you for your confidence in my abilities, Mistress Felton but to answer your question I have an unfortunate habit of annoying my senior officers.”

“What do you do to annoy your senior officers?”

Luke fell silent. He did not feel inclined to admit his failings to Deliverance Felton. As well as an unfortunate habit of speaking his mind when he should keep a still tongue in his head, wine, women and a taste for cards would not sit well with her puritan upbringing. That is, if she had such an upbringing. Despite her name, she certainly didn't behave like any puritan he knew.

“I think they call it a lack of proper respect,” he said.

Deliverance looked straight ahead and he thought he could detect the hint of a smile playing around her lips. “Lack of respect? Really? You surprise me, Captain.”

Luke returned her smile. He sensed that she had begun to trust him and that thought gave him more confidence about facing the days ahead. He glanced at her. Away from the castle and her responsibilities she seemed more relaxed and it surprised him to find that the formidable Mistress Felton did have a sense of humour. He liked it when she smiled. It transformed her face. The hard line of her mouth softened and the perpetual crease between her brows smoothed and the large, luminous grey eyes sparkled. A man could drown in those eyes, he thought. He would set himself the challenge of forcing her to smile more often. He liked a challenge.

Chapter 4

W
hat are you doing?” Penitence asked.

Deliverance readjusted her position on the north wall, squinting at the distant woods.

“We're being watched,” she said. “There's a man on a horse just inside the tree line.” She pointed at the woods. “See the large oak?”

Penitence leaned forward on the ramparts, looking in the direction Deliverance indicated. “Oh yes, I see him,” she said. “One of Farrington's men?”

“Most likely,” Deliverance replied.

“Hadn't you better tell Captain Collyer?”

“I suppose so.”

“Speaking of Captain Collyer, where is he?” Penitence asked.

Deliverance waved a hand in the direction of the west wall. “Oh, he's over there, supervising the men on the earthworks. I suppose I should go and find him.”

The two women walked the length of the curtain wall, emerging from the Hawk Tower. As Deliverance looked along the battlements, she realised that quite an audience had gathered. In fact every maid in the castle seemed to be leaning over the stonework, laughing and jesting with the men below.

Penitence leaned over the ramparts. “Oh,” she said. “Oh my! I really do think he should put some clothes on.”

“What on earth do you mean?” Deliverance joined her. “Oh...I see.”

Last time she had seen him, Luke Collyer had been fully clothed, albeit with his jacket unbuttoned and his shirt unlaced at the neck. Now he swung a mattock like one of his men, naked to the waist. His back glowed with the healthy tan of a man used to working outdoors…without a shirt.

Her eyes widened. She had never thought of men as being particularly attractive creatures. There had been no opportunity in her life to spend her time thinking about men much at all. While young, handsome men had queued at the gate for Penitence’s favours, the only offers Deliverance had received were from three old, bald and foolish men of her father’s acquaintance. Mercifully her father had not sought to force her into accepting any of the offers.

Now, as she watched the smooth muscles across Luke Collyer's back moving rhythmically to the swing of the mattock, she revised her opinion of men in general. She shifted her gaze to Ned Barrett, working a shovel not far away and similarly unclothed. Ned's tan ended at his neck and his body was pale and freckly. Further along the line of straining men, Sergeant Hale, wielded a mallet, his great hairy, bear-like chest heaving under the effort of each stroke of the mallet.

She turned back to Luke Collyer. Compared to Hale, he seemed almost slender and graceful. Almost—she bit her lip ashamed even of the thought—beautiful.

Giggling from the assembled audience of maids reminded her that she and Penitence were not Luke Collyer's only audience. Jennifer Jones, a buxom lass of dubious reputation who worked in the dairy, called out to him. “Captain Collyer, if you pull a muscle, come and see me and I'll rub it for you.”

To Deliverance's mortification, Luke stopped his work and leaned on the handle of the mattock, grinning up at the dairymaid. “Ah, the beautiful Mistress Jones.” Using the handle of the mattock as if it were a walking stick, he swept her a courtly blow to which Jennifer Jones responded with a curtsey

Curses, thought Deliverance, he even knows her name!

“Now you mention it,” Luke continued, “I've an ache that will need a gentle hand.”

The girls broke into gales of laughter at the ribald exchange between the dairymaid and the soldier.

Even Penitence giggled.

Deliverance rounded on her sister. “Penitence.” She clapped her hands, addressing her errant staff. “All right, enough of your gawping. Get back to your work.”

The girls shot her disappointed glares and giggling into their hands went back to their duties. Luke looked up at Deliverance, his head cocked on one side. As she glared down at him, he put two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute and picked up the mattock. As he swung it, the broad muscles of his chest, peppered with dark hairs, slid beneath his skin. Deliverance turned on her heel and fled.

When she heard Ned Barrett and Luke Collyer's voices and the sound of the men's boots on the flagstones behind the screen, Deliverance stopped pacing the floor of the Great Hall.

“Captain Collyer,” she called.

He pushed aside the curtain and raised an enquiring eyebrow at her. “Mistress Felton?”

“I would appreciate a moment of your time,” she said.

He crossed the floor towards her, carrying his jacket slung over one shoulder. At least he had put his shirt back on, but it clung damply to the sculpted muscles of his chest and shoulders, the tight whorls of hair on his chest, still damp with the effort of his exertion. She forced herself to look up at his face. A smudge of dirt marred his right cheek and his dark brown hair was thick with dust.

She resisted the temptation to wipe the smudge of dirt away.

“Captain Collyer. That was a disgraceful display this afternoon. I would thank you not to upset my servants in future.”

“I assure you if I have upset anyone, you have my profuse apologies.”

He bowed in penitence, one hand on his chest but as he rose his lips twitched and she knew he was mocking her.

An uncomfortable heat rose to her cheeks.

“Captain Collyer,” she began, noticing that even to her ears her voice sounded shrill. “I need hardly remind you, our situation is desperate. We do not have time for frivolity...”

Her diatribe trailed off as she found herself transfixed by his grey eyes.

She saw no trace of humour in their icy depths. He looked down at her, his face grave.

“Mistress Felton, it is precisely because of our situation that the occasional frivolity and jesting is called for. Now, if that is all you wish to say to me, I should go and clean myself up.” His voice held a clipped tone that she'd not heard before and she knew she had pushed him too far.

As he turned and started to walk back towards the screen where Ned waited, she said, “No. No...There is something else I wanted to tell you. There was a man on a horse watching us this afternoon. What do you think we should do?”

He turned back to look at her.

“Where was this man?”

“In the tree line. I only saw him because the sunlight glinted on something metal. Could it have been one of Farrington's men?”

“Of course it was.” Luke's mouth tightened and he turned to Ned. “Send Hale to me, I want to know why our patrol didn't see him.”

“What are you going to do?” Deliverance asked.

He scratched his chin and looked up at the dusty beams of the hall. “I think the time has come. I need to see for myself exactly what Sir Richard Farrington is planning.”

“I thought you said he was in Ludlow,” Deliverance said.

“He is,” Luke replied. “But it's what he's doing in Ludlow that interests me.”

“Shall I send our scout again?” Ned asked.

Luke shook his head. “No. I will go myself.”

“Don't be a fool,” Deliverance scoffed. “You can't just walk into Ludlow. You would be instantly suspected.”

Luke looked back at her, his brows creased.

“Not if I had a woman with me.” He raised an eyebrow, a slow, conspiratorial smile spreading over his face. The grey eyes that only a moment ago had cut her down with the force of cold steel, now rested on her with the warmth of soft smoke. “A woman who had a fancy for a little adventure?”

“Do you mean me? Don’t be such a fool. Do you really think that I, the daughter of Sir John Felton, rebel, can just walk in through the gates of Ludlow when it suits me?”

“You could if you were suitably disguised. Are you particularly well known in Ludlow?”

Deliverance bit her lip, trying to suppress the sudden surge of excitement within her. What would her father say when he found out? Would he commend her for her courage and audacity?

“Not so well known that I couldn't pass as a goodwife on her way to Ludlow market.”

“And when is market day?” Luke asked.

“Collyer, this is folly!” Ned interposed.

“Tomorrow,” Deliverance said.

“Excellent,” Luke said. “Tomorrow it is.”

“Are you both mad?” Ned looked from one to the other. “Do you honestly think that you will get away with this?”

Luke held Deliverance's gaze with his as he said, “Yes, I do, Ned.”

“Then let me go,” Ned said. “You're needed here.”

Luke gave his second-in-command a withering glance. “What am I doing that's so valuable here? Digging ditches?”

Ned looked at Deliverance. “Of all the people in the castle, the two of you are the ones we can least spare. Please see sense. Mistress Felton, see sense.”

Luke's gaze returned to Deliverance. His grey eyes sparkled with irresistible and infectious mischief. “Well? Mistress Felton, it's entirely up to you.”

What he proposed was rash, bordering on dangerous, but looking into the smoky depths of his eyes she would have followed him into hell.