A Splendid Defiance

by Stella Riley

  Having washed both herself and her hair, she rinsed the latter in lavender water before wringing as much moisture out of it as she could until the towel was sodden. Then, since it was still inclined to drip, she looked round for something she could wear to sit on the floor while it dried … which was how she ended up pulling on a shirt of Justin’s that was destined for the laundry.

  Rex curled up next to her on the hearthrug, thumped his tail a few times and promptly went to sleep. Smiling, Abigail stroked his ears. From down in the yard came the rattle of musket-fire. Presumably Justin was enjoying himself. She smiled again and let her mind wander back to the absorbing question of exactly how she wanted the final embroidery to look. Flowers or leaves? Cream thread or that silk that Lucy had found which was a couple of shades darker –

  The door opened and Justin came in – then stopped as if he’d walked into a wall.

  Sitting sideways to the fire, arms raised and her hands full of hair, Abigail froze for a second and then, quickly tucking her bare foot out of sight underneath her, said, ‘Justin? Did you forget something?’

  ‘No. Yes.’ His lungs weren’t functioning. His brain wasn’t either.

  ‘What?’ He was looking at her very oddly and she didn’t know why. Then she remembered what she was wearing. She said, ‘I borrowed your shirt. It was due for the wash so I didn’t think you’d mind. It is all right, isn’t it?’

  He swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’

  And still he stared. Totally bewildered, Abigail let go of her hair and started to get up off the floor.

  ‘Don’t get up,’ said Justin, unlocking his jaws. Oh God, don’t get up. ‘I’m not staying. I need to … I may be late tonight. So don’t wait for me. I’m sorry – I have to go.’

  And he disappeared back through the door, almost slamming it behind him.

  Abigail remained where she was, frowning at the place where he’d been. She had never seen him behave so strangely and had no notion what had caused it. Obviously, something must have happened downstairs …fresh orders or some such. She shrugged and went back to drying her hair and the all-important embroidery question.

  Outside the door, Justin leaned against the wall, breathing hard and waiting for the disturbance in his body to subside. He shut his eyes in the hope of blocking out the mental image of what he’d just seen, then immediately opened them again when he found that what he’d just seen was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids.

  The torrent of hair he could just about cope with. That she’d been wearing his shirt - and only his shirt – was another matter. As she’d held up her hair, the sleeves had slipped down her arms almost to the shoulder … but that wasn’t the worst of it. The cambric was so fine that, with the firelight behind her, it became virtually transparent. He’d seen the arch of her spine as she leaned slightly back and the lift of her breasts, the curve of her waist and —

  God. Stop.

  She had no idea, of course. Thankfully, no idea of what he was looking at or how it was affecting him. Only now the image was locked in his head and playing merry hell with one particular part of his anatomy.

  Some people used counting as a means of thinking of something else – some probably recited poetry. Justin’s method was to curse, fluently, in three languages. Silently, he did so now. Then, finding it wasn’t helping, he took the stairs to the roof. There was no way he could go back to the yard until he had himself under control. Abigail might not recognise the signs – but someone down there surely would.

  Gradually, out in the cold air, his breathing returned to normal and his body settled. Able, finally, to engage his brain again he recognised something fundamental. Simple lust was easy to resist, if one chose to do so, because it was transient and because one knew it for what it was. Unfortunately, what he had just experienced was something quite different and for which he had been wholly unprepared. Certainly, there was nothing simple about it. And if he was to prevent Abby guessing just how much he wanted her, he would need to be very careful indeed.

  *

  Abigail finished the apricot gown late on the following afternoon and, sighing, held it up for Lucy’s inspection.

  ‘There. It’s done. What do you think?’

  ‘I think you’ve sewn your heart into it,’ came the perceptive reply. ‘Put it on. I can’t wait to see how it looks.’

  ‘Neither can I,’ said Abigail slowly. ‘But I’m half afraid to. Isn’t that ridiculous?’

  ‘Utterly!’ Lucy grinned wickedly. ‘Especially as it isn’t my opinion you care about.’

  ‘I haven’t seen Justin today. I’m not even sure he came in last night. Did anything unusual happen yesterday?’

  ‘If it did, Ned never mentioned it. Are you going to try that on or not?’

  The gown fitted like a dream and its clever simplicity was startling for, wisely relying on the richness of the silk to be its own ornament, Abigail had used neither slashing, panning nor pleating. Soft, full sleeves fell from the edge of her shoulders to end in drifts of creamy lace at the elbow; a feathering of delicate embroidery traced the wide, curving décolletage and was echoed on the neat tassets at her waist; and the glowing folds of the skirt flowed gracefully into a demi-train of molten gold.

  Lucy drew a breath of pure appreciation.

  ‘It’s perfect. The gown, the colour – everything. I wish it was mine. And if Justin Ambrose can look at you without melting, then he isn’t the man I take him for and doesn’t deserve you. No – don’t say anything. Just arrange your hair and wait for him. I’m going.’

  By the time Justin came in Abigail had twisted her hair into a mass of tumbling curls and her nerves into pulp. As soon as she heard his step outside the door, she fled back into the sanctuary of her own room in a fit of inexplicable shyness.

  ‘Abby?’ Justin crossed towards the bed, pulling off his sash as he went. ‘Are you there?’

  She moved slowly to stand watching him from the doorway.

  ‘Yes. Did you want something?’

  ‘Not unless you’d care to give me a hand with this.’ His head was bent over the task of trying to unlace his buff-coat. ‘I’ve spent the last two hours on the ramparts and my fingers are frozen to the bone. Oh hell!’

  A slow, sweet smile invested Abigail’s mouth and she advanced on him with restored confidence.

  ‘I’ll help if you promise not to swear at me. Has someone upset you?’

  ‘Not especially. And since you must, by now, be perfectly well-acquainted with the unreliable nature of my temper —’ began Justin, glancing irritably up at her. And then stopped, blindly staring.

  With leisured calm, she unfastened his coat and stepped back, head tilted in courteous enquiry.

  ‘There. It’s done. Now – what were you saying?’

  ‘Nothing. I don’t know.’ He paused, suddenly helpless. ‘I’m a fool. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘That you’re a fool? I wouldn’t dare. As for this,’ she smoothed the silk with loving fingers and pivoted gracefully, ‘I was waiting for you to notice. Do you like it?’

  It was a long time before he replied. And then, in a voice she scarcely recognised, he said, ‘How could I not? You are so beautiful. You always were – even in Jonas’ sackcloth. But I was right to choose apricot.’

  Her breath caught and, for an instant, she seemed to be drowning in his eyes. Unconsciously, she took a step towards him and would have taken another if, with an effort that could be felt, Justin had not shattered the spell by wheeling abruptly away from her, saying, ‘Don’t, Abby. God knows after yesterday, I’m already having enough trouble remembering —’

  He stopped and she prompted gently, ‘Remembering what?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He turned back, smiling with forced cheerfulness. ‘I’d better change, hadn’t I? Not that I have any hope of matching your elegance – but I think that gown ought to be accompanied by something better than second-hand buff leather.’

  She eyed him uncertainly, aware that he was retreating
from her but unsure of how to prevent it. Finally, she said gravely, ‘I’ll leave you then. There’s a clean shirt by the washstand and you’ll find your sashes in the chest. I pressed them this morning.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He hesitated, oddly discomposed. ‘Have I said something to upset you?’

  ‘No. It’s what you haven’t said that bothers me.’

  And with an uncharacteristically brittle smile, she was gone.

  Justin heard the door close behind her and then walked aimlessly to the window. With beautiful detachment, he considered how close he had come to self-betrayal. Looking down at his hands, he found that they weren’t completely steady.

  *

  Three days later it began, almost imperceptibly, to thaw. And two days after that, Nancy Lucas brought herself, her girls and her baggage unannounced to the Castle and demanded to see Captain Ambrose.

  ‘Well, Nan?’ Justin lounged against the guard-room door and regarded her with quizzical tolerance. ‘What brings you here? Not, of course, that it isn’t always a pleasure to see you – and especially after so long.’

  ‘And whose fault is that? You know where to find me if you’ve a mind to.’ She examined him critically, noting the tiny lines of strain around his eyes. ‘You look a touch frayed. Been having a busy time, have you?’

  He shrugged. ‘No more so than usual. And things have been quiet enough these last few weeks.’

  ‘Well, they’re heating up again now if what I hear is right,’ she replied grimly. ‘That’s why I’ve come. I want to bring the girls back here for a bit if it’s all right with you. It could be no more than a buzzard’s bogey but I don’t want to take no chances. And all my trade’s in here, anyway. So —’

  ‘Hold on, Nan,’ cut in Justin crisply. ‘Are you telling me you’ve reason to expect enemy action in this area?’

  ‘Closer than that. I’ve been told – never mind by who – that they’re coming to have another go at this place.’

  He stared at her.

  ‘But the roads won’t be fit for artillery for weeks. How sure are you?’

  ‘Sure enough to pack and come here. Look – is it going to be all right for us to stay?’

  ‘What? Oh. Yes, I expect so,’ said Justin absently. ‘I’ll have to ask Sir William but I can’t see him casting you out – though God knows what he’s going to make of this talk of an attack. No commander in his right mind would embark on a siege in weather like this unless …’

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless he had reason to hope for a quick surrender. Damn it to hell! I wish we knew what’s been happening outside this thrice-blasted town. There’s been no news in weeks. It’s high time we sent out some scouts.’ He paused and then said, ‘All right, Nan. If you wait here, I’ll go and see Will. I suppose your old rooms in the north turret will suit?’

  ‘Well enough,’ she grinned. And then, as he turned to go, ‘By the way, what’s all this about you and the little Radford girl?’

  He looked back at her, his eyes glinting with irony.

  ‘You tell me. You’re the one who knows everything. What am I popularly credited with?’

  ‘Depends who you listen to. Poke-nose Radford ain’t saying much aside from the fact that his sister’s dead to him – which she ought to find a blessing. But that bugger Barnes has been going round saying you seduced his bride-to-be then abducted her and you’re keeping her here to satisfy your carnal lusts. Oh – and there’s another rumour that says you might have married her. So there you go. Seduction, rape, kidnapping and marriage. Take your pick.’

  ‘I see.’ A cold smile curled his mouth. ‘Then let’s hope the rest of your information is equally inaccurate.’

  ‘She’s not here, then?’

  ‘Oh yes. But unwed, unconstrained and relatively unsullied.’

  ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ snorted Nancy.

  ‘It means,’ he replied blandly, ‘that, though she is living in my quarters and generally held to be my mistress, she is nonetheless pure, untouched and blissfully virginal. And now, if you’ve no objection, I’ll see what can be done about accommodating you.’

  *

  He gained Sir William’s permission without difficulty and also found him surprisingly unsceptical of Nancy’s story.

  ‘It would make sense, wouldn’t it? Oxford cannot fall while Banbury flourishes and all that. And the Committee of Both Kingdoms must be panting to finish the war this summer. Thank God we’re well-provisioned this time.’

  ‘Can I send some of my fellows out?’ asked Justin. ‘They can at least report on the state of the roads and they might bring back something – even if it’s only a broadsheet.’

  ‘By all means,’ nodded Will. Then, grinning, ‘I wonder if Lord Saye is in on this? There’s a rumour in the town that he’s asked Parliament to compensate him for his losses – and I’m sure they’d far rather return his Castle than part with actual money.’

  After he had despatched the reconnaissance party, Justin went in search of Abigail and found her brushing the tangles from Rex’s long fur. He said, ‘If he lets you comb his ears, you’ll have achieved more than I ever could.’

  ‘I know and he won’t.’ She smiled invitingly up at him. ‘Unless you’d like to hold him for me?’

  ‘If I must.’ He sighed with mock reluctance and dropped on one knee beside her to take the dog’s head in his hands. ‘Nancy Lucas has just arrived to take up residence.’

  ‘Nancy?’ She was surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.’ He kept his eyes strictly on Rex. ‘She’s been warned that the Parliament mean to make another attempt to take the Castle and it’s only fair to say that she has a knack for good intelligence.’

  ‘I see.’ Abigail’s face grew pensive. ‘Another siege?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Soon?’

  ‘I don’t know. Not before the Oxford road clears, I hope.’ He frowned a little. ‘Do you understand why I’m telling you?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  Her tone was so serene that he glanced sharply at her and said, ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes. You’re saying that, if there’s a siege before you can find a home for me elsewhere, I’ll be here for the duration.’

  Reluctant amusement lit his eyes.

  ‘I can see,’ he remarked, ‘that you’re overcome with alarm at the prospect.’

  ‘Oh no.’ She favoured him with a kindly apologetic smile. ‘But I expect I would be if it weren’t that you seem worried enough for both of us.’

  *

  The reconnaissance party brought back nothing but the news that a small amount of traffic was now abroad on the road. Four days later, on January 21st, the first Parliamentary detachments of Horse and Foot arrived in the town. There were about a thousand of them – not enough to completely blockade the Castle – and they brought scarcely any ordnance. But their commander, Colonel Edward Whalley, had begun the war as a cornet in John Fiennes’ troop and was therefore familiar with the Castle’s defences. Furthermore, he scored an immediate victory over a troop of Lord Northampton’s flying cavalry and took some sixty of them prisoner.

  Abigail looked interestedly down on the spreading pattern of tents and trenches and tried hard not to bless the Committee of Both Kingdoms for granting her a reprieve. She had wanted so badly to stay and now, with Colonel Whalley kindly making it possible, her only sorrow was that Justin seemed more elusive than ever. He was also extremely busy – though she wasn’t sure why for so far neither side had opened more than a sporadic burst of musket-fire. Indeed, the Parliamentarian army seemed largely content to shout up depressing fragments of news; the fall of Hereford and Dartmouth and Chester, along with the King’s most recent diplomatic failures. Yet Justin spent less and less time in his room, often coming and going while she slept. By the end of the first week in February, she came at last to the painful and bewildering conclusion that he was deliberately avoiding her.

/>   He was. It was all he was left with. And because he had to pass his off-duty hours somewhere, he took to spending them in the north turret with Nancy Lucas.

  On the night that the taunting voices outside announced that Fairfax had taken Torrington, he lounged in a chair before Nancy’s fire with an untasted cup of wine in his hand and silently contemplated his crossed ankles. Nancy endured it as long as she could and was finally driven to say, ‘You’re not enjoying it any more, are you?’

  ‘No.’ He stirred a little but did not look up. ‘I shall be glad when it’s over.’

  She grimaced. ‘It’s the Radford child, isn’t it?’

  This time his eyes rose to encompass her, wary and very bright.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Why? Not deaf, are you?’ She stood up and faced him, arms akimbo. ‘You come here to hide, don’t you? And when a man can’t trust himself near a girl he’s put himself out to look after, there’s only one reason that I know of. Well?’

  His fingers tightened on the cup. ‘Leave it, Nancy.’

  ‘I’m damned if I will. I’m tired of sitting watching you eat yourself up from the inside without a word to say why.’

  ‘Very well.’ He uncoiled from the chair and was at the door in two strides. ‘Then I’ll go.’

  ‘Fine,’ snapped Nancy. ‘And I’ll tell Miss Abigail exactly what her precious virtue is doing to you.’

  Justin froze on the threshold. Then, using both hands and the full force of his body to send the door crashing shut, he turned back, white-faced with temper and said unevenly, ‘All right. But has it occurred to you – has it ever occurred to you that if all I wanted was a body, I would have solicited yours?’

  An odd smile flickered across the comely face.

  ‘Don’t be a fool, Justin. Why else do you think I’m meddling?’

  ‘For fun? It can’t be because you believe this is helpful.’

  ‘It might be, if you’d let it. How long can you go on like this?’

  His anger drained suddenly away, leaving him tired and empty. He said, ‘I don’t know. It’s all such a bloody mess. I thought I could do this. I really thought … only now I can’t go near her for fear that I’ll say or do something and she’ll know. Worse still, I might discover that she feels as I do.’