Rebel Heart

by Marina Oliver

  'It's devilish inconvenient,' he responded, and Elinor's eyes widened at his bluntness.

  'Then I am sorry. I am greatly relieved to hear that he is alive, and grateful to you for your trouble,' she added scathingly. 'Would it be too much to ask you to wait while I pen a few lines to him? I can offer you refreshment in the house.'

  'If I'd wished for small talk and ale I'd have come openly to the house,' he replied brusquely. 'There is no time, and it would be my death warrant if a letter were found on me. Kit wishes you to join him and I am to escort you.'

  Elinor's mouth opened in astonishment.

  'I? Go to France? It is impossible!'

  'I do not undertake impossible tasks, Mistress, so I beg you not to waste time in tedious vapourings. You have half an hour to pack a few necessities. Bring your jewels, but only a small bundle. And a warm cloak, the nights can be cold if we have to sleep in the open.'

  Elinor backed away. 'You are mad! I don't believe you! Kit would never send for me thus. Besides, I am to be wed,' she recalled belatedly.

  'Here is Kit's ring to prove my authority,' he said, holding out his hand impatiently. Elinor recognised the signet ring as the one her father, then Kit, had always worn, but still she shook her head.

  'You could have stolen it! Besides, I cannot leave Francis!'

  'You consort with Kit's enemies, and fall into their trap! This marriage is but a plot to draw him back to England. He'd come back soon enough if he thought you were in trouble, and once in their hands he'd be tortured until he revealed the secrets he knows! He is high in the King's confidence, you must realise. Well, you have less than half an hour since you waste time arguing. Will you hasten?'

  'No, I don't believe you!' Elinor cried, and turned to flee, terrified of the suddenly implacable face so close to her own.

  As she plunged into the coppice she heard him laugh, briefly and harshly, and before she had gone a dozen paces her arms were caught and he twisted her round to hold her against him, impervious to her fists beating against his chest and her feet kicking wildly at his shins as he lifted her off the ground.

  'Then as you choose to be foolish I must take you as you are,' he rapped out, and Elinor found herself flung ignominiously and uncomfortably across his shoulder, pinioned by his arm clasping her legs, and shaken unbearably as he broke into a swift run and carried her along a track away from her home.

  *

  Chapter 2

  Elinor tried to scream for help. Her attempts were considerably hampered by the jolting she was suffering as she bounced up and down on her abductor's shoulder, the breath almost driven from her body.

  At the edge of the coppice two horses were tethered and Elinor was flung into the saddle of one of them.

  'Will you behave sensibly?' her captor demanded and she replied by screaming as loudly as she could for help.

  Instantly his hand closed over her mouth, and though she did her best to bite him he soon fashioned a gag and secured it. She glared at him helplessly, and his eyes mocked her.

  'I'll tie you to your saddle or carry you before me,' he warned, and she shrugged, settling herself more comfortably in the saddle. He could scarcely travel far with her, gagged as she was, and there must be an opportunity of escaping soon.

  Was he mad, she wondered, as he swung lithely onto his own horse. His tale could not be true, especially that her marriage was a plot to lure Kit home. It was too complicated a plot for mere revenge on one rebel, and she could not believe Kit was so important to the Jacobite Pretender. Yet why had he seized her in this strange manner? What else could he hope to gain? She was no heiress to hold to ransom, or marry by force. Was it some complicated way of harming Francis by preventing his marriage?

  The questions were endless but she would clearly have no answers to them yet. She tried to remember the way they travelled, but this was more difficult than she had anticipated, for he took narrow unfamiliar paths and forded several small rivers, penetrating into the strange wild waterland where few men lived. They passed no habitations and in that marshy country seemed to be the only people abroad.

  After two hours during which he spoke no word, and scarcely even glanced at his captive, the man halted near the bank of a wide river.

  'We leave the horses here,' he said abruptly, and leapt from the saddle, coming to lift Elinor down. He removed the gag and she rubbed her cheeks, passing her dry tongue over her lips.

  'What do you intend?' she asked hoarsely, striving to hide the fear she felt to be alone with such a ruthless man in so isolated a spot. 'Where are you taking me?'

  'To France eventually. Now we must hide. There is a hut on the island used by fowlers and fishermen where we can remain hidden.'

  He was unsaddling the horses as he spoke and Elinor looked desperately about her. A small clump of trees stood nearby and in the far distance the steeple of a church was visible. In the other direction only the vanes of a windmill showed. Nothing but the reeds growing thickly at the edge of the water offered her any shelter and she knew she could not hope to escape him by hiding amongst them.

  'Come, carry one of the saddles,' he ordered, and watched as she reluctantly obeyed. Amongst the trees was a small shed, almost hidden by the thick summer foliage. There was fresh fodder, straw and two pails of water, but no sign of anyone else. When the horses were settled he turned back to the river, Elinor trailing helplessly behind.

  A small boat was hidden in the reeds and he pulled it clear.

  'Get in.'

  Aware resistance was futile Elinor obeyed, and he rowed across the wide expanse of water to what proved to be a small island, with another stretch of water separating it from the further bank of the river. A low hut nestled in a slight hollow below a few alder trees, invisible until they stepped out of the boat.

  'How long do you intend to imprison me here?' Elinor demanded furiously as her companion ushered her into the single small room.

  'Until tomorrow night. At dusk we must ride for the coast where I have a friend waiting with a boat. Don't be concerned,' he added scornfully as she cast a nervous glance up at him, 'your virtue is safe. I've no taste for Francis Merton's leavings!'

  'How dare you?' she gasped, and without thinking her hand shot out and she struck him as hard as she could across the cheek.

  She gasped in pain as he seized her, pulling her close against him with one hand while he twisted the other in her hair, forcing her back and leaning over her menacingly.

  'Don't ever do that again unless you want me to put you across my knee and beat some sense into you,' he said coolly, his face so close to hers Elinor could feel his breath against her cheeks.

  Then he released her so suddenly she almost fell, staggering against a roughly made table.

  'You are insulting,' she said in a low voice, refusing to be silenced. 'Francis will make you pay for this!'

  'If he can catch us,' he returned indifferently. 'If it is untrue I apologise,' he added, to her surprise, 'but it would be the first time Merton had not sampled the wares he was buying before he paid for them. Possibly he was under orders not to risk your refusing to wed him.'

  *

  He turned away and went to a small cupboard, then brought a loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese to the table.

  'I've no doubt you're sharp set,' he continued in a milder tone. 'This will have to suffice, but there are eggs and some rabbits for tomorrow, and I will catch some fish. Sit down, for heaven's sake, I'm not going to ravish you.'

  Elinor subsided onto a stool and rested her head on one hand as she watched him hack slices from the loaf with his dagger and then divide the cheese in half.

  'I don't understand,' she said wearily. 'Is Kit alive? Who are you?'

  'That's better,' he commented approvingly, hooking another stool towards him with his toe and sitting down opposite her. 'Kit is alive and in France. I am Sir Talbot Carr, I have estates in Ireland and Italy. My mother comes from Modena and was a friend of the King's mother. Kit and I are working for th
e day when the King comes into his own. I met Kit on the march to Preston and he saved my life when we were fleeing the country. That is why I have a particular affection for him and agreed to his somewhat urgent plea to rescue you from your impending marriage.'

  'But I cannot believe Francis would wish to trap Kit,' she protested.

  'Women are notoriously soft hearted, and weak in intellect too where their lovers are concerned,' he replied, and suddenly smiled at her. 'There should be some wine, will you have some?'

  She stared at him, confused, as he rose to fetch a bottle and two remarkably elegant Venetian goblets from the cupboard. When he smiled he was startlingly handsome, the grim look wiped from his face. Was his story true? Could she trust him? She wanted to believe her brother was alive, but how could she take the word of this stranger against Francis? It was crazy and yet, she thought in some wonderment, there was a note of sincerity in his voice that went a long way towards convincing her he spoke the truth.

  'Thank you,' she murmured as he handed her the wine, shivered as his hand momentarily touched hers, then flushed as he glanced at her in amusement.

  'How can I convince you? By describing Kit? He is of medium height, with brown hair and brown eyes. He has a scar on his left thigh where he was bitten by a dog when he was a lad, and one front tooth a trifle out of alignment as a memory of putting Star, his first pony, at an obstacle too high for his ability. And there is his ring.'

  Elinor shrugged impatiently. 'You could know Kit and have heard all this without the rest being true. If you had brought me a letter, just a few words in his hand!'

  'I thought I had explained that would have been sufficient to condemn me if I were caught.'

  'Can you prove your charges against Francis?'

  'Not without documents, which for obvious reasons I cannot carry on my person,' he said sharply. 'But be aware of this, Mistress Elinor, I mean to carry you to your brother whether you are willing or no. For yourself I care not one jot, you may marry whomsoever you choose however great a scoundrel he is, but I do care for Kit and you will do nought to endanger him. There is a pallet in the corner and some blankets. You'd best sleep, there will be no rest tomorrow night.'

  So saying he turned to leave the hut.

  'Sir Talbot,' she began and then hesitated. As he turned back to her, one eyebrow raised but clearly impatient to be gone, she rushed on, stumbling over her words. 'How did Kit know of my marriage? Francis did not offer until yesterday.'

  'He may not have spoken to you but the men in his regiment knew of his plans. That is how we heard, from a friend we have there. I was about to come to England and Kit asked me to take you back with me. Now I must see to the horses. But don't think of escaping, there is nowhere for you to go.'

  He vanished on the words and Elinor flung up her head in defiance. She would not stay here at his bidding. The tale seemed so implausible, and he had offered no proof of his accusations against Francis.

  *

  She rose and went to the door, opening it far enough to see that Sir Talbot was already rowing for the bank. If she could swim across the river while he was occupied with the horses and hide in the reeds until he was back on the island, she might be able to take one of the horses and be off before he knew she had gone.

  Impulsively she slipped out of the door and crouched down behind a bush, struggling out of her gown and rolling it into a tight bundle which she secured on top of her head by tying her stockings round it and twisting them under her chin. When she saw Sir Talbot tie up the boat and walk away to the horses' shed she lowered herself swiftly into the cold water and struck out for the far bank.

  It was further than she had thought and trying to keep her head raised and her gown dry was more difficult than she had anticipated. She also had not realised how her shift would cling to her limbs and hinder her efforts, but she gradually drew near to the far bank. Much of it was hidden by the reeds, the only accessible part being near the boat, and to come safely ashore she had to make for that. Scrambling out she ran swiftly towards a clump of scrubby bushes and threw herself down behind them.

  Elinor peeled off her wet shift and managed to pull on her gown, but her body was still cold and wet, and to make it worse the sun had set and a slight breeze stirred. She began to shiver. Sir Talbot was a long time with the horses. She was watching the shed for his reappearance when a slight sound behind her brought her swinging round in alarm.

  'It was careless of me to assume you could not swim,' Sir Talbot remarked affably. 'How fortunate for us both that I had to return to the boat and saw you in the water. You still apparently disbelieve me?'

  'Yes!' Elinor snapped, furiously disappointed at the failure of her plan, and shivering now less from cold than with apprehension at the revenge he would doubtless take. He merely signed to her to get up and she did so reluctantly, aware of her damp gown clinging to the curves of her slender but shapely body in a most indecorous way. He was regarding her with a slight smile on his lips that frightened her more than his frowns.

  'You'll not get far, so don't attempt to run again. Back to the boat.'

  She shrugged and moved away. He nodded approvingly.

  'Good, at least you don't indulge in the vapours. We can deal together if you are sensible.'

  He led the way back to the boat, held it while she scrambled in, and once more rowed to the island.

  'You can dry your shift tomorrow. I dare not light a fire now but it will occasion no alarm if smoke is seen tomorrow, for this hut is often used.'

  'Might we be discovered here by those that use it?' she asked hopefully and he laughed shortly.

  'Only my friends use it so do not think to escape me that way. You have five minutes to prepare for bed and then I am coming in. I've no intention of sleeping outside to spare your blushes.'

  *

  She scowled at him but went swiftly inside. To her relief she discovered that there were two thin pallets, and she pulled one to the darkest corner. Her gown was damp and she would have an ague if she slept in it, so she reluctantly took it and her shift off, spread them across a stool to dry, then wrapped herself in a blanket and lay down, thinking that she would not dare to close her eyes with her disturbing captor lying just a few feet away.

  When she awoke birds were singing outside and a stray gleam of sunlight came through the aperture which served as a narrow window. For a moment she could not recall where she was as she stretched limbs stiff from the unaccustomed hardness of her bed. Then recollection came flooding back and she lifted her head to see, in the furthest corner of the small room, Sir Talbot rolled up in another blanket, his dark locks spread out across the rough pillow.

  He was breathing deeply and slowly, and Elinor was certain he slept. Cautiously she pulled her gown, now dry, towards her but he did not stir. She wriggled into it, then picking up her shoes she stole across to the door and carefully unlatched it. It swung open noiselessly and she slipped outside. The boat, temptingly, was moored only a few feet away. She paused to pull on her shoes and then went to it. In a few seconds she was inside and had untied the rope that secured it to the bank. Then she discovered the oars had been removed and was wondering whether to risk drifting with the current when Sir Talbot, dressed only in riding breeches, strolled out of the hut.

  He grinned amiably at her. 'Best not,' he said calmly. 'It wouldn't do to drift into the reeds.'

  Before she could move he had seized the boat, and despite her struggles easily lifted her out. She shrank from his bare arms, averting her eyes from the thick black curls which covered his chest, and tried to push him away.

  'Put me down!' she raged, and had to grasp his hand as he obeyed her too promptly.

  'Go in. I'll make you an omelette. I doubt you can cook,' he added contemptuously.

  He turned away and busied himself beside the fire. Elinor hid her burning cheeks and hoped the noise of her racing heart could not be heard by the abominable man. What would become of her now? Even if she did escape her reputat
ion, after spending a night in the same room, would be in shreds. Francis would not want to marry her. A weak tear squeezed itself from beneath her closed lids and angrily she brushed it away. Weeping would serve no purpose. She must contrive another plan to escape.

  They ate the omelette and drank mugs of ale, then he suggested she ought to try and sleep again.

  'We won't sleep tonight,' he reminded her.

  She glared impotently, but as there was little else to do she lay down and turned away in an attempt to ignore him. He moved about and she could hear faint sounds but they soon ceased. Cautiously peering over her shoulder she saw he was sitting on the other pallet, perfectly still with his back to the wall, his expression grim as he stared sightlessly into some hidden picture.

  *

  Eventually she fell asleep, waking to the sound of rain and the aroma of rabbit stew. Sir Talbot served the stew in rough wooden bowls and it tasted delicious. There was baked trout to follow, washed down with another bottle of wine.

  'We must leave an hour before dusk. We can stop at the house of a friend for another meal, but we should reach the coast before dawn and be away. Kit is hoping to meet us near Dunkirk in a few days and he plans to take you to his home near Paris.'

  It seemed most unlikely she would be permitted to escape and Elinor sighed.

  'What of you?' she asked listlessly.

  'I have to report to the King. There has been delay enough.'

  She was about to retort that he had chosen to abduct her when he raised his head suddenly and listened intently, his hand waving her to silence. She heard a soft whistle. Sir Talbot rose silently and went to peer through a crack in the door. When the whistle was repeated he opened the door and stepped outside.

  Elinor was also on her feet and she followed him to the doorway. On the far bank was a small man, dressed in a yokel's smock and carrying a basket full of reeds.

  'Stay out of sight,' Sir Talbot ordered as he untied the boat and prepared to step in. Elinor drew back into the hut, unsure of why she obeyed him, but responding instinctively to the command in his voice. He rowed across the river and conferred briefly with the other man, then jumped out and ran towards the shed. What was going on, Elinor wondered. Was he leaving her? For a moment, at the thought of being alone, she felt an unthinking wave of panic strike her, then sternly chided herself. If he went she could soon make her way to the church where she would find help.