Her Rebel Heart (6 page)

The gates of Ludlow stood open, but heavily guarded as the market day traffic flowed into the old town. Seated pillion behind Luke on the oldest cob they could find in the stable, Deliverance’s stomach gave a nervous lurch. Even the telling off she had endured from Penitence could not quell the heady anticipation of danger. Every nerve in her body seemed to have a life of its own. The lure of adventure had always called her and now she had the opportunity to shine. She would make her father proud of her, the worthy protector of Kinton Lacey.

She gripped the handle of her basket of eggs harder with one hand while the other, twisted in Luke's belt. He cast a reproachful look over his shoulder.

“Relax your grip. I can hardly breathe.” he said.

They had rehearsed their story on the journey. She would be Goodwife Chambers of Kersey bringing eggs to sell at the market. In a russet gown borrowed from her maid, Meg, and a starched white cap on her head, topped with a flat crowned brown felt hat that concealed her face, she looked very much a goodwife.

Luke would be her 'man', Tom Perry. Despite much grumbling from Luke, Penitence had rough-cut his hair like a labourer’s, and now it stuck out at odd angles from beneath the filthy, battered hat borrowed, like the greasy jerkin he wore, from one of the stable hands. Riding behind him, at such close quarters, Deliverance’s nose wrinkled at the smell of man and horse that exuded from his borrowed garments.

The guards on the gate gave them no more than a cursory inspection and asked their business. Deliverance responded in a faultless local accent that would have appalled her father.

Once inside the gate, they found a stable for the cob, and set out on foot for the market square at the gates of the castle. They stood looking up at the magnificent walls and the well-guarded gate.

“You're not thinking of trying to get in there?” Deliverance whispered.

Luke didn’t respond but his gaze roamed the castle walls.

“How much you sellin' them eggs for?”

A woman's voice at her elbow startled Deliverance, almost causing her to drop the basket. A stout matron waited expectantly.

“How many do you want?”

“A dozen. Are they fresh?” The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Fresh today, lady,” Luke replied.

“A shilling then, for a dozen,” the woman said.

“Fine,” Deliverance agreed,

The woman looked surprised. She had evidently expected to haggle. Deliverance concluded the transaction while Luke waited behind her. When the woman had gone away, evidently pleased with her bargain, Deliverance turned back to Luke.

“Stay here and sell your eggs,” he said.

Deliverance looked up at his determined, grimy and unshaven face, and a shiver of fear ran down her spine. She wanted to say, “Don't leave me here by myself” but that sounded childish. She had volunteered for this adventure and she would see it through with the true courage of a Felton.

“Be careful,” she said.

“If you sell all your eggs before I'm back, meet me in the porch of that church.” Luke indicated the spire of St. Laurence. “And if I'm not there before the clock strikes twelve, leave without me.”

“Will an hour be long enough?” Deliverance looked around the crowded market square, noting the large number of soldiers in blue uniform coats.

“It should be plenty of time.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Stay out of trouble, Mistress Felton.”

She watched him walk away, her gaze following him until he was lost in the bustling crowd.

Word had evidently got around that her eggs were cheap and Deliverance sold them all within half an hour. She wandered around the market square pretending to be interested in the produce, all the while watching for anything that might be of interest to Luke. She had been to Ludlow market many times in the peaceful years but now the familiar bustle of farmers and townsfolk had been padded out with armed troops who all looked better equipped than the rabble Farrington had set down in front of her gate.

She looked up at the clock. The hour of twelve approached so she set off at a brisk pace to the church of St. Laurence, the beautiful medieval building, with a square tower that rose high above the roofs of the town. The presence of more soldiers surrounding the porch of the church and bristling with weapons and smart new uniforms, slowed her step. The church had evidently been appropriated for military purposes.

“Now then, goodwife, move along,” one of the soldiers said as she hesitated at the gate to the churchyard.

“I came here to pray,” Deliverance responded. “How dare ye turn a house of God into a ... what are you doing with it?”

“Gunpowder store,” the man said.

“Oh, that's shameful,” Deliverance said, guiltily recalling the chapel at Kinton Lacey, presently lined with barrels of powder. “And what need 'ave ye for such a large store? From what I 'ear tell in the market, there's only a handful of rebels in this county.”

“Aye, and it's Sir Richard's intention to blast 'em to hell,” the man replied. “He's ordered a siege gun to deal with the bastards.”

“A siege gun? And what's so special about a siege gun?”

“Ah lady, ‘tis the length of two men with a mouth that a grown man can put his head in. God have mercy on the rebels, is all I can say.”

Deliverance’s guts clenched. God have mercy on them indeed.

“And when is this 'ere gun to arrive?” Deliverance asked.

The men looked at each other. “Why it came yesterday, lady. Ye'll find it outside the town walls on the water meadow.”

“Really?”

“Aye. Not seen it myself but they say 'tis too big to bring into the town.”

Deliverance glanced down the street and a wave of relief washed over her at the sight of a familiar greasy hat that marked Luke’s progress through the crowd.

“Well, 'tis a sad day when a church becomes a harbinger of death,” Deliverance returned to the street and waited for Luke to join her.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Here and there. Farrington's brought in a whole regiment of reinforcements, well-armed and well-trained. It will be no raggle-taggle troops, afraid of the rain, that we will face.”

“Well I have intelligence too,” Deliverance said, her heart racing at the thought of what lay ahead of them. “There's a siege cannon in the water meadow.”

Luke's eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “A siege gun. How did you find that out?”

“Sometimes men will talk more easily to a woman,” she said with a smile.

Luke’s mouth tightened. “If you're right, that one piece of information is far more worrying than anything I've managed to glean. You've done well.”

Deliverance flushed. She heard praise so rarely that when it came it was a nugget to be treasured.

He looked up at the town walls. “Anywhere we can get a sight of the gun?”

Deliverance nodded and led him across the town, through the narrow streets lined with half-timbered buildings. A gaggle of townsfolk lined the town wall, indicating the presence of the siege gun had excited some interest in the local populace.

They pushed their way through the crowd, ignoring the grumbles. Deliverance drew breath as she caught sight of the object of the attention. Below them on the far side of the river Teme, another crowd had gathered around to watch blue-coated soldiers drill with the massive gun and several smaller pieces. Luke whistled and Deliverance cast a sideways glance at him.

“That is a serious siege gun,” Luke said in a low voice. “A forty eight pounder cannon, unless I am greatly mistaken.”

“No, you're not, friend.” They turned to see a young man, one of the townsfolk, Deliverance presumed. “A whole cannon they call it. Over ten feet long, she is. They call her the ‘Thunderer'.”

“I didn't know guns had names?” Deliverance cast a questioning glance at Luke.

“Only the special ones,” their informant told them. “God help those poxy rebels when they meets her, is all I can say.”

“Indeed,” Luke replied. “God help them.”

The onlookers were ushered back by an officer, and the artillerymen set the fuse alight. Fire spurted from the mouth of the mighty weapon with an accompanying roar that rocked the walls on which Deliverance and Luke stood.

With her ears still ringing, she looked at Luke. He stared at the gun, his mouth set in a grim line.

“Time to go,” he mouthed and taking Deliverance by the arm he guided her back into the town. They turned down the High Street towards the stable where they had left the cob.

They were only a matter of yards from the lane that led to the stables when a body of soldiers wheeled around the corner. Luke and Deliverance stepped back into the shelter of a doorway to allow the troops to pass them. At their rear, a young officer in well-polished breast and back plate and gorget, glanced in their direction.

“Go on,” she begged him silently. “Just walk on, ignore us.” Too late, she pulled the hat brim low down across her face.

The young man stopped, his mouth dropping open in surprise.

She had been seen and recognised.

“Deliverance?”

She looked up and forced herself to smile into the puzzled face of Jack Farrington.

Chapter 5

D
eliverance? What are you doing in Ludlow?” A mixture of pleasure and puzzlement, mingled with anger crossed Jack’s face. Jack had never been good at hiding his feelings.

Deliverance cast her eyes around the street and lighted on the apothecary. For the first time in her life she lied. “I had to fetch some medicine from the 'pothecary.” When he looked unconvinced she compounded the lie, using the one weapon in her armoury she knew would find its mark with Jack Farrington. “Penitence is unwell.”

She scored a hit. The expression on his face changed to one of the deepest concern. “Is she all right?”

“The recent trouble at the castle affected her deeply and she has contracted a chill to her chest,” Deliverance continued. “I had to take the risk of coming to Ludlow.”

Jack's gaze strayed to Luke. “Who's this? I don't recognise him?”

“Oh that's only poor Tom Perry, Jake Peverill's nephew from Gloucester.” She leaned conspiratorially towards Jack. “Was dropped on his head when he was a babe.” She tapped her skull. “Quite mazed, but he's good with horses, so Father sent him north.”

Jack looked at Luke again, who affected a glazed stare into the middle distance. He frowned. “He looks a strapping fellow. Strange of your father to send him away from Gloucester.”

“Quite useless with weapons,” Deliverance said. She glanced anxiously around the street. “Are you going to let me go, Jack? I really must get this medicament back to Penitence.”

For a moment Jack looked confused. Loyalty to his father dictated he should detain her, possibly indefinitely. Loyalty to Penitence told him to release her.

“Go,” he said, adding in a tone that he no doubt intended to sound fierce, “but don't let me catch you here again, Deliverance.”

“Now, Jack, don’t be so hasty.”

Jack visibly flinched as a hand gripped his shoulder and Deliverance’s heart lurched. The dark shadow of Charles Farrington shadow fell across them.

Deliverance glanced around. Except for Luke, who moved in closer behind her, and the Farrington brothers, they were alone in the narrow street.

“Kind of you to pay us a visit, Mistress Felton.” Charles sneered and gave her a mock bow. “And what brings you to Ludlow on this fine day?”

Deliverance opened her mouth and her words stumbled out, the lie sounding even more unconvincing now. “Penitence is unwell. I came to see the apothecary.”

Charles looked down at the basket. “You come away empty handed I see. Did the apothecary not have what you were seeking?”

“I...no...” Deliverance faltered.

Behind her she heard Luke’s sharp intake of breath.

Charles did not appear to hear. “Dear Penitence may just have to wait for her medicaments. I absolutely insist, Mistress Felton, that you join us in the Castle as our guest.”

“No, thank you, Charles. I really should be getting back.” Deliverance’s hand tightened on her basket.

Charles pushed past his brother, grasping her right forearm in his hand. As Deliverance tried to shake him free, his grip tightened.

“Deliverance, you are not such a fool as to think this is an invitation? You, my girl, can now consider yourself a prisoner.”

She summoned every bit of her courage and glared up at him. “You have no right to detain me. Unhand me this instant.”

“I have every right,” Charles said, bringing his face down so close to hers that she felt his spittle on her face. “The moment you shut your castle gates on us, you forfeited your liberty, Mistress Felton. I am sure that once your father knows you are a prisoner in Ludlow Castle, he will have no difficulty in turning over Kinton Lacey to the King. Jack,” he nodded his head in Luke's direction, “bring that man she has with her.”

“Don't be silly, Charles. Tom's quite harmless,” Deliverance said. “Take me but let him go.”

Charles jerked his head in Luke’s direction. “Secure him, Jack. I'm not the gull you might think I am, Deliverance.” As he spoke he pulled a pistol from his belt with his free hand and levelled it at Luke. “One look at this man is enough. He's no simpleton. This has to be one of your garrison, and you can only be here for one reason. Spying.”

“I told you, I needed medicine for Penitence.” The lie became less convincing by the moment. “I'm not here to spy.”

Jack drew his pistol and approached Luke. He lifted the rough leather jerkin Luke wore exposing the brace of pistols tucked into Luke's belt.

“No good with weapons, is he, Deliverance?” Jack cast her a hurt glance. “What's your name, man?”

Luke's gaze flicked across to Deliverance and then back to Jack. He affected a tight- lipped smile and shrugged.

“Collyer,” Luke replied. “Your servant, sir.”

Charles stiffened, releasing Deliverance’s arm and facing up to Luke. “What a pair of fools you are. Who is left at Kinton Lacey?” He glanced at Deliverance, his lips curving in a sneer. “That soft sister of yours and a few old men? Father will be pleased when he finds I have not only Deliverance Felton but the scurvy knave—”