Her Rebel Heart (9 page)

Deliverance sank back against the bolsters as her sister and her maid closed the door behind them.

In love with Luke Collyer
? What a preposterous suggestion, she thought and closed her eyes.

There must be another explanation for her racing heart and shortness of breath when she had seen him looking down at her. Not to mention the alarming heat flashes when she thought of his arms around her. Loss of blood—that was it.

It occurred to Luke, as he went about his business the following day that he should have considered the efficacy of a pistol ball in Deliverance's arm earlier in their relationship. For the first time since he had arrived at Kinton Lacey, he enjoyed undisputed command over the entire garrison.

He had paid her another visit after breakfast, and found her up and dressed but still looking pale and wan, and apparently content to pass the day in the parlour, looking for the entire world like a demure goodwife and not at all like the bossy, determined little person who made his life difficult.

And yet part of him missed their sparring. He had, he admitted to himself, become accustomed to her presence as a comrade and as an equal. He missed seeing her slight form everywhere he looked, supervising ditches, ordering provisions to be stored, countermanding his orders, confusing the men...

He left Ned supervising a small herd of cattle purchased for the provisioning of the castle and strode across the courtyard. Looking up at the residence he saw Deliverance sitting at the window of the upper parlour, her chin resting on the hand of her uninjured arm. In that unguarded moment she looked so sad that he stopped in his tracks.

She saw him and straightened, the moment of candour gone, but the recollection of her drawn, pensive face lingered. He waved at her and decided they should both take a short break from the responsibilities that weighed upon them so heavily.

Luke washed the dust of the day off and made himself as presentable as he could. He found Deliverance in the parlour, still sitting by the window where he had seen her, looking down over the courtyard, her arm in a neat blue silk sling. Penitence sat in a chair beside her, the ever-present embroidery in her hand. She looked up as Luke entered and seeing him she frowned. Luke swept both women an all encompassing bow as Deliverance turned around and looked at him.

“Where did you get the cattle?” Deliverance asked without preamble.

“Purchased quite legally from a farmer over by Stanton,” Luke replied. “I have some news. Charles Farrington has just sat himself down in front of Byton with three hundred men.”

The women looked at each other and Penitence’s hand went to the chain at her throat

“Three hundred?” Penitence stared at him. “How do you know that?”

Luke's lips compressed. “The game of war, Mistress Felton. He watches us and I watch him.”

Her eyes widened. “And Byton? Are you going to help?”

He frowned. “What help can I be now they are under siege? When I offered Byton help, it was refused.”

“Can't you attack Farrington from behind?” Penitence asked.

“I have fifty men. He has three hundred.”

“But you did it before!” Penitence said.

“I had the element of surprise and Farrington's force was untrained and ill-equipped. It is quite a different army that is encamped before Byton. Two of my patrols have already been involved in skirmishes with Farrington's men. I'm sorry, Mistress Felton, but Byton is on its own. I've sent word to Gloucester but as you know that is also under siege. We can do no more and my men are all needed here.”

Deliverance sank into the chair across from her sister. “Luke...Captain Collyer is right, Pen. There is nothing we can do for Byton.” She looked up at him. “How long do you think we have?”

“Only a matter of days.”

She sighed and looked away.

Penitence looked him up and down. “You look unusually tidy. Do you have an assignation planned, Captain Collyer?”

He looked down at his best coat of fine wool, dyed a deep ruby, alleviated by a spotless linen collar edged with a good quality lace that he had chosen. Just for a few minutes it felt good to have left his military persona in the bedchamber, even if he still wore a sword and had a small pistol tucked into his belt.

An unaccustomed heat burned his cheeks and he cleared his throat.

Looking at Deliverance, he said, “I was wondering if...that is... if you're up to it, Mistress Felton, you would care to take a walk?”

Penitence gasped and, he amended his invitation. “I mean both of you, of course.”

Penitence glanced at Deliverance. “I have chores to see to,” she said, “but I think a stroll would do you good, Liv.”

Deliverance looked from her sister to Luke. “Me?”

Thankful any confusion had been avoided by Penitence's tact, Luke continued with more confidence, “When Farrington takes Byton, he will move on to us and then our chance for a walk in the fresh air beside the Teme will be lost.”

“A walk?” Deliverance repeated.

“That is an excellent idea,” Penitence said. “A little fresh air will put some colour back in your cheeks, Liv.”

Deliverance looked out at the fine summer evening and nodded. “Very well. Thank you, Captain Collyer. I really don't need this,” she said, removing the sling.

He bowed low to her and offered her his arm. For a moment she hesitated, glancing at Penitence who just smiled.

As they walked out of the residence into the mellow afternoon sun, a shout went up. The entire garrison had gathered in the courtyard and were clapping and cheering. Deliverance cast a questioning glance at Luke. He smiled and shook his head, gently disengaging her arm and standing back, leaving her alone at the top of the stairs.

Sergeant Hale disengaged himself from the crowd and climbed the stairs to her, one hand behind his back.

As he stood before her he drew the hand out, and thrust a bunch of meadow flowers, already wilting, at her. She took them in her good hand and looked up at the huge barrel-chested man.

“Thank you, but I don't know what I have done to deserve this.”

Hale whipped his hat off his head and stood turning it in his huge hands. “Lady, 'twas a brave thing you did and we,” he indicated the entire garrison, “want you to know that you has our loyalty, to a man.”

Deliverance scanned the disreputable ranks of unshaven men, still covered in dirt from their day's work on the defences.

She cleared her throat and looked down at the nosegay, the scent of the meadow sweetening the air around her. A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed it down. Tears were not appropriate at this moment.

With an effort she looked up and spoke, keeping her voice strong and clear. “Thank you, all of you. What I learned on our reconnaissance to Ludlow is that we will be faced with great adversity over the coming weeks, and there will be times when we will need all the strength God gave us. It heartens me to know that we have such loyal men beside us.”

“Amen!” Sgt Hale declared. “Let us join together in prayer for the safe delivery of this castle from the hands of the foul fiends.”

When the seemingly interminable prayer had ended, Luke stepped forward. “Enough. Back to work all of you.”

The men dispersed and Deliverance looked down at the wilted flowers in her hand. “I didn't expect this,” she said in a small, quiet voice.

“That is why it is important,” Luke said. “Those men will die for you now.”

She looked back at the empty courtyard and sighed. “They shouldn't have to. They should be home with their own families, bringing in the harvest.”

“That is the tragedy of war.”

Luke took the flowers from her hand and handed them to one of the maids who had come out of the residence with a bucket of water.

“Put these in Mistress Felton’s chamber, girl.” He crooked his elbow. “Now, Mistress Felton, about that walk.”

As they strolled out of the castle, Luke glanced at his companion. He had ample opportunity to study her face on the long, fraught ride back from Ludlow. In the dark of the largely sleepless night that followed their safe return he had reached the conclusion that while she paled in the shadow of her classically-beautiful younger sister, there was strength of character in her strong jaw and determination and intelligence in her bright eyes and the curve of her mouth.

For some reason, he had never had cause to consider before, he found those characteristics infinitely more attractive than Penitence's oval face, blue eyes and golden curls.

“You seem remarkably well-armed for a pleasant stroll by the river,” Deliverance remarked.

Luke rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. “It would be pleasant not to take such precautions, but with Farrington practically on our doorstep, I would prefer not to take unnecessary risks.”

He allowed her to lead the way and they took the gentle path that meandered down the side of the hill towards the river.

Luke looked up at the east wall of the castle towering above them, searching out the one weakness in the wall, the sally port, the secret entrance to the castle. Deliverance followed his gaze.

“What are you looking at?”

“I was trying to see where the sally port is. It’s completely concealed from this angle.”

“Well it wouldn't be a very good sally port if it was quite so obvious,” Deliverance smiled. “You see that large outcrop of rock,” she pointed. “It is behind there.”

“So how do you get down that cliff? It's almost sheer.”

Her generous mouth curved in a conspiratorial smile. “Oh there's quite a safe path if you know where to look but I don't think you need to worry about it, I can't see a force attacking up it.”

“Maybe not, but I should set a guard on it. It is still a vulnerable place in the wall of the castle.”

They reached the river, where a weir had been constructed to turn the castle mill, and struck out to the north along a narrow wooded path.

“Where are you from, Captain Collyer?” Deliverance asked.

“Warwickshire,” Luke replied in the clipped tone he reserved for occasions where he didn't wish to encourage any further conversation.

He should have known better. Undeterred Deliverance continued, “And what of your family?”

“What about them?”

“Do they fight with you for parliament's cause?”

Luke hesitated before replying, his silence giving the answer.

Deliverance stopped and looked at him, her eyes wide. “They don’t! Your family is divided?”

He swallowed. “My family was divided long before the war, Mistress Felton. My father and my brother fight for the King.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “So, is Collyer even your real name?”

Luke looked up at the trees above him. “You ask a lot of questions. My family is not your concern.”

Her cheeks coloured and she looked down at the ground. “Sorry. My mother always used to say my curiosity would get the better of me.”

Luke quickened his stride. No one, except Ned, knew his antecedents and, in his opinion, that was already one person too many but he owed her his trust and he knew whatever confidence he shared with her would go no further.

“I was christened Lucius,” he said.

That was half the truth. He had been christened Lucius William Absalom Harcourt. His father, Viscount Harcourt, had been a close confidante of the King and when the irretrievable rift between himself and his family had occurred, he had deemed it prudent to adopt a new identity. He didn't need or want his father's name to play a part in this war.