Her Rebel Heart: A romance of the English Civil War

by Alison Stuart

  “What happened?” Penitence glared at Luke as he dismounted.

  “We encountered your friend, Jack Farrington,” Luke said.

  Penitence gasped, her hand flying to her throat. “Jack? Jack, did this to her?”

  “No, that was his brother.”

  “He was trying to shoot Captain Collyer. Pity he missed,” Deliverance interposed over Truscott's sturdy shoulder.

  “I told you it was a foolish plan,” Penitence stood in front of Luke, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Now look what you've done? Truscott, carry her up to her bedchamber. Meg,” she turned to one of the maids who stood at the foot of the stairs, “fetch water and bandages.”

  Luke, still holding the reins of the horse, stood in the middle of the courtyard watching as the little party, with Deliverance still protesting she could walk, disappeared into the residence.

  “Well done,” Ned said in an ironic tone. “I hope your precious excursion was worth putting Sir John's daughter's life on the line?”

  Luke turned to look at his friend. “She'll live.”

  “That's not the point. Sir John Felton will not thank you for getting his daughter shot.”

  “Then Sir John Felton should not have left her in command of the defence of his home. I need a drink.”

  He handed over the horse to one of his men, and climbed the stairs into the house, where he slumped into a chair in the Great Hall and sent for Melchior Blakelocke, Sergeant Hale and a jug of Sir John’s best wine.

  “Well?” Ned demanded when they were all assembled. “What did you find out?”

  “Not only do they have at least four hundred well trained and equipped troops, they have a forty eight pounder, a demi-cannon and two culverins.”

  “God help us.” Ned glanced out of the window at the illusory solidity of the castle walls.

  “Oh dear,” Melchior Blakelocke said with a shake of his head. “That is not good news, sir.”

  “No,” Luke said with a grimace. “Not good at all.”

  “How long have we got?”

  Luke studied the grain on the wooden table for a long moment, tracing it with a finger. “If I was Farrington I would take out Byton first and when that is secure, move on us. We have probably less than two weeks, if that.”

  “With Mistress Felton indisposed...” Blakelocke began.

  Luke pushed back his chair and stood up. “We should be able to get a great deal done. Gentlemen, let's take a walk.”

  Chapter 6

  Deliverance lay looking up at the bed hangings. The sun streamed in through the windows, catching the dust motes that danced in the golden light of the late morning, as she replayed the headlong events of the previous day. Her arm hurt enough to remind her of her own mortality, and how close she had come to losing her life.

  Penitence must have given her some poppy juice to ensure she slept through the night and her eyelids began to droop once more. Through her torpor, she heard a sharp rap on the door and the sound of Meg’s shoes on the floorboards as she crossed to the door, followed by a whispered exhortation from her maid.

  At the sound of a man’s voice, her eyes sprang open. A shadow fell across her and she squinted up into Luke Collyer's face.

  “Good. You're awake.”

  She squeaked with alarm and scrabbled at her bedclothes with her good hand, drawing the sheet up to her chin while he leaned one hand against the bed post, and looked down at her with a smile, tugging at the corners of his mouth, the corners of his smoky-grey eyes creased with amusement.

  “This is most improper,” Deliverance said.

  “Meg is here to insure your honor is not impugned.” He indicated the maid sitting on a chair by the table, her back rigid with disapproval. “How's your arm?”

  “It hurts...a little.” Her voice sounded high and tight even to her ears as hazy memories of their ride back from Ludlow began to seep back into her consciousness.

  Luke straightened and crossed his arms, and as he did so, an uncomfortable recollection of being held in those arms sent a warm glow rushing through her body. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Loss of blood must have made her silly as well as light-headed. What had she been thinking to allow herself to be held by a man in such a fashion? On the other hand it had not been unpleasant. For the first time in her life someone had stepped in to take her cares and worries away and keep her safe.

  “Pistol balls do have that effect,” he was saying. “You’ll be fine in a few days.”

  Luke's brisk tone punctured the warm memory of their shared intimacy and the throbbing in her arm gave a lie to his words.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Have you ever been wounded?”

  Luke raised an eyebrow. “I'm a soldier, what do you think?”

  “I didn't notice any scars...” Deliverance said without thinking, remembering the sight of his well-muscled body as he wielded a mattock in the trenches. As he grinned, the warmth flooded into her cheeks.

  “Ah, so you were not just keeping watch on the castle wall? Shame on you, Mistress Felton!” He wagged a reproving finger at her.

  “My attention was fixed on the man in the trees, not you. You had more than enough female admirers on the wall.”

  His lips parted as if he were about to say something but he must have thought better of it. He straightened, the soldier once more.

  “I came to tell you that Farrington has moved. He marched out of Ludlow this morning.”

  “Is he coming here?”

  He shook his head. “As I predicted he is heading for Byton first. It will only take him a day or two to wipe out that minnow, and then he’ll turn his full attention to us.”

  All humour had gone from Luke's face. The smoky-grey in his eyes had turned once more to burnished steel.

  Deliverance sat up, the protective sheet falling away unregarded. “Are we ready?”

  “We'll never be ready,” Luke said. “But we are as prepared as we can be.”

  Deliverance pushed back the sheet and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I should get up. There are things to do.”

  As she rose to her feet, the room swayed and the world began to roar in her head.

  A strangled cry came from Meg as she jumped to her feet. “Now, that's enough, Captain Collyer. Mistress needs to rest. She lost a deal of blood yesterday.”

  Luke was faster. His strong hand steadied Deliverance, easing her back on the bed and pulling the covers over her. Embarrassed by her weakness she looked away as he sat himself on the side of the bed.

  “You must rest, Mistress Felton. Thanks to your hard work, we are already well prepared. The last remaining defences are my responsibility,” he said

  “You should not be sitting on my bed,” Deliverance protested, clutching the neckline of her voluminous nightdress.

  The corners of his eyes creased as he smiled. “I assure you, you are in no danger while you are encased in that ridiculous night gown.”

  “Captain Collyer, what are you doing in here?” Penitence demanded from the doorway.

  Luke stood up, giving Penitence the benefit of a deep, courtly bow. “Just ensuring Mistress Felton has responded well to your tender care,” he said.

  Penitence stood back and gestured at the door. “Out! I am sure you have work to do, Captain Collyer.”

  Luke strode to the door where he paused and inclined his head, taking in all three women as he said, “Adieu.”

  They waited until the sound of his strong, purposeful stride had died away.

  “Pen, you're very hard on him,” Deliverance commented as her sister sat down on the bed beside her, taking the place where Luke had sat just a few moments ago.

  Penitence raised an eyebrow. “He nearly got you captured and killed. He is trouble, Liv, and it was quite improper that he visit you in your bed.”

  Deliverance lay back on the bolsters and looked up at the carving of nymphs sporting above her, unable to meet her sister’s eyes. “Yes, of course, you are right. But I think I might
have misjudged him. I must concede he is quite good at what he does,” she mused.

  And, she had to admit to herself, their excursion to Ludlow had been the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, with or without a sore arm to show for it.

  Penitence raised an eyebrow. “Since when have you become such a petitioner for the talents of Captain Collyer? Is there something I should know about?”

  Deliverance shoved a dim memory of a man stroking her hair to the back of her mind. “Of course not. He was a perfect gentleman. I just meant that now I have got to know him a little better, I have slightly more respect for his talents...his military talents.”

  Penitence narrowed her eyes and studied her sister for a moment before she said, “Ned says Farrington could be at our gate within the week. Is it true about the guns?”

  Deliverance nodded. “Yes. I need to send a message to Father. He must know what we will be facing.”

  “I think Captain Collyer has already done so.” Penitence hesitated. “I didn't want to worry you, but Ned has had word that Gloucester is now besieged.” She added with a downcast mouth. “We need Father here.”

  Deliverance stared at her sister. Luke hadn’t imparted that piece of news. It changed everything. Her one hope had been that they would hold out long enough for Sir John to reach them.

  “If Gloucester is besieged then we cannot expect Father to come running at our beck and call, Pen.” As Penitence bit her lip, a habit when she was worried, Deliverance added, “We are well prepared and I'm sure he will come as soon as he is able.” She patted her sister's hand and hoped she sounded reassuring. Privately her heart sank. If Gloucester were truly besieged, they could not count on any help from that quarter.

  Penitence lowered her head. “Luke said you encountered Jack and Charles yesterday.”

  Deliverance nodded.

  Penitence bit her lip again and looked out of the window to the soft summer day beyond. “Did Jack ask about me?”

  “It was hardly the occasion for social discourse,” Deliverance said, her tone softening when she saw the naked yearning on her sister's face. “Yes, he did ask after you and I think he misses you as much as you do him.”

  “Do you suppose Jack will be with his father and brother when they come here?”

  Deliverance didn't reply. She didn't need to. Of course he would and it would be agony for Penitence knowing Jack was outside the castle walls. She recalled something of a conversation with Luke Collyer from the previous day when loss of blood and shock had loosened her tongue.

  “Do you really still love him, Pen?” she asked.

  Her sister looked up, her blue eyes misted with tears. “With all my heart.”

  “Pen, if you want to leave and go to Father in Gloucester or Aunt Jane...”

  Her sister shook her head. “I won't leave you, Liv, and maybe Jack can bring some sense to the situation if he knows I am within the castle walls.” She sighed heavily and her blue eyes misted with tears that she dashed away with the back of her hand. “Pay me no heed, I am just being foolish.”

  Deliverance studied her sister. “Pen, how do you know if you're in love?”

  Penitence looked at her sister, all tears forgotten.

  “Oh, Liv, how can I explain it? It's the most delicious pain you can ever know. Your heart beats and the breath stops in your throat and you just want to be near the person—” Penitence stopped, frowning. “Why do you ask?” Her eyes widened. “You're not in love with Captain Collyer, are you?”

  Deliverance’s mouth fell open. “Captain Collyer! That insufferable...arrogant...good gracious, Pen, how could you even think that?”

  Penitence rose to her feet and looked down at her sister. “There are far more worthy men to fall in love with than penniless soldiers of fortune.” She placed a hand on her sister's brow. “I think you might be a little feverish. You are not to stir from that bed today. Meg will bring up some broth for your lunch and you are to rest.”

  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 sp
otless 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.”