Lover's Knot

by Louise Clark

  “One might expect such sentiments from a man of Wishingham’s sort,” Cedric jeered. “What say the gentler members of the congregation?”

  Philip had been debating whether or not to speak. He was torn between his duty and what he perceived was right. The sight of the troops marching up the aisle of the church with swords drawn had shaken him more than he could ever have expected. He was a military man. He had seen atrocities committed and he had watched men die, but he had never been involved in vandalizing a church. Nor had he willingly bullied frightened civilians the way Weston had. When the lieutenant had stared so insultingly at Alysa, Philip had felt the full effect of the impotent fury of the vanquished and all he wanted to do was plant his fist in Weston’s smirking face, not once, but a dozen times.

  He was certain that the dragoons had been sent to the church because the local spy had informed Osborne that the people of West Easton would be lingering after the morning service in order to discuss the possibility of a Stuart restoration. That narrowed the likelihood of who the spy was considerably, and confirmed what Philip already suspected. But Osborne and his spy had been outwitted once more by the resourceful people of West Easton and the meeting was now taking place. Thomas Leighton, dressed in a worn jerkin and looking nothing like a courtier or the son of one of the local gentry, would hear the opinions of the people of West Easton and be on his way, back to the Low Countries with his hard-won information.

  What news would he take back to the Black Boy? The saber-rattling promise that England would rise for her Stuart king? Or a more moderate suggestion that war ought to wait?

  Philip did not think that the king could win against the military machine Oliver Cromwell had built to police his country. It still functioned too efficiently, despite the erosions that had been made since Richard Cromwell had taken power. However, an attempted rebellion might be enough to show how brittle the new Lord Protector’s hold on power was.

  But war had a way of binding men of disparate beliefs together. A rebellion might aid the Protectorate, rather than harming it, and yet another defeat could dishearten the Royalists disastrously. Today, the victim of a cruel policy of repression, Philip realized that he did not want to see the Royalist opposition destroyed forever. “I say Master Wishingham is right. Now is not the time to test the new Lord Protector’s strength. It is too close to his accession. The troops are still loyal to the memory of Oliver Cromwell. Give them time to know their new master and the king’s return might be easier than you could ever expect.”

  “You’ve been out of the country for years, Hampton. What makes you such an expert?” Cedric Ingram demanded, obviously annoyed.

  “His brother is an officer in the Lord Protector’s cavalry,” Lord Strathern remarked mildly. “I think Sir Philip comments are well-taken. Somewhere in our midst is a traitor who has laid information with the Protectorate on more than one occasion. That is bad enough. Even worse is the government’s response to that information. It has been quick and thorough and potentially brutal. All that to capture an agent of the king. How much more thorough would they be if it were King Charles himself who was about to set foot in England? No, I too agree that now is not the time. The king must wait a while longer before he attempts to regain his crown.”

  There was a general muttering that signified agreement. Thomas Leighton stood up. “I want to thank you all for your wise words today,” he paused and grinned, “and for the excellent ruse you used on the lieutenant. When he learns that he looked the man he was seeking straight in the eye and never knew he had his quarry within his grasp, he will be furious! Thanks to you, good people, I shall be long gone!”

  His sally was greeted with laughter. Thomas bowed and the congregation began to disperse, smiles still on many faces. Philip idly watched Thomas move amongst the crowd, bowing to the gentlemen, clapping the shoulders of those who had helped him, kissing the hands of the ladies.

  With luck, Thomas would be gone from here before Osborne knew that he was leaving. Then there would be no reason for Osborne to remain in West Easton. However, with the local Royalist organization intact, it would be in his interest to leave his pair of agents in place to watch over what was happening. That way there would be no need for him to dispose of the local spy and Philip would not be forced to defy him. Philip could remain at Ainslie and get on with his life.

  Thomas reached his sister, Alysa, and said something that made her smile in a sad way as he bent down to kiss her cheek.

  It looked like a farewell. Philip hoped it was. He did not want Thomas Leighton exposing his identity before he was ready. Alysa Leighton had become the center of his plans for the future. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he thought he might lose her.

  He hoped he would never have to find out.

  *

  The afternoon was much advanced when Philip rode over to Strathern Hall to visit Alysa. When he was announced, the family had just finished eating dinner and were relaxing in the small, shabby parlor as was their custom.

  As Philip bowed over her hand, Abigail said mildly, “How pleasant of you to come by, Sir Philip.”

  Lord Strathern’s eyes twinkled as he noted the fine blue silk doublet Philip was wearing. It was a richer garment than the sober brown one he had worn at the church earlier. “I will hazard a guess that you have come to see Alysa, Sir Philip. Am I right?”

  Philip had the grace to color. “I am always happy to talk to you, Lord Strathern. In fact, I did want to tell you how pleased I was at the way the meeting was handled today. I was delighted to see Weston thoroughly mislead.”

  “It is not often that I feel such satisfaction in fooling my fellow man,” Strathern mused, “but I do not think there were any in West Easton who were not glad to see the lieutenant completely trounced.”

  An impatient expression on her face, Prudence nudged Alysa with her elbow. She said fervently, “I was more than happy when the odious lieutenant was forced to leave with his tail between his legs. Did you not feel the same way, Alysa?”

  Alysa had been blushing and staring shyly down at her hands, which she clutched together in her lap, from the moment of Philip’s arrival. Prudence’s unsubtle nudge and her deliberate attempt to bring Alysa into the conversation made Alysa smile and look up at their guest. The expression in her eyes was warm with affection. “Indeed I did. I thought too, Sir Philip, that your remarks in the real meeting were most sensible. I am glad that you were able to be there.”

  “As to that, I merely spoke my mind,” Philip said. He smiled at Alysa and in that moment there only seemed to be the two of them in the room.

  Lord Strathern laughed. “Go on, you two. Go out into the ornamental garden and catch the last of the light on this fine day. Tomorrow it may rain.”

  Alysa shot her father a teasing look as she stood. “You must talk to Master Bailey and find out for certain, Papa.”

  “There is time enough for that tomorrow, child. Now, go and enjoy yourselves with my blessing.”

  Alysa cast her father a surprised, but delighted glance. For him to give them permission to be alone together, then to add that the excursion had his blessing, meant that he was open to receiving an offer from Philip for her hand. Trembling slightly, for this was an important step, Alysa allowed Philip to take her arm and guide her from the room.

  When they were alone, she found herself feeling shy again, but she hid the emotion beneath the need to give him directions on how to get to the formal garden, which graced the west side of the house.

  Once there, it seemed a good idea to open conversation with comments about the garden itself. “When we came to live at Strathern this garden was so overgrown that it gave the property a melancholy air. My stepmama took it upon herself to restore the beds to their former beauty. It has taken several years, but now the garden is a showpiece.” Alysa looked up at Philip, a trifle defiantly. “As the rest of the estate soon will be. We Leightons do not easily give in to misfortune.”

  Philip smiled down at her
, the light in his eyes teasing. “A fine recommendation for a lady wife, don’t you think, Mistress Alysa?”

  She blushed and hastily looked away. Then she laughed. “If the man looking for a wife was a typical Royalist lord who had lost most of his estate to the rapaciousness of the Commonwealth, I think it would be a fine trait to have. If the man were more settled,” she cocked her head mischievously as they walked along a gravel pathway, “why, then I think it might make the wife a rifle hard to handle.”

  “Spirit in a wife adds spice to a marriage,” Philip murmured.

  The heady excitement that presages a personal success buoyed up Alysa. “Marriage is a serious business, sir. Have you not been told that?”

  Philip stopped and drew Alysa to a halt beside him. The late-afternoon sunlight made the blue satin of his doublet gleam and deepened the rich burgundy of Alysa’s velvet gown. “Oh, yes, I have been advised of that old homily. I do not believe it though. Not when the two people involved in the match care deeply for each other.” His eyes burned into Alysa, telling her without words that what he felt for her was a love as strong and deep as an emotion could be. She swayed toward him, irresistibly drawn by all she knew of him.

  He caught her shoulders and drew her snug against him, molding his body to hers and catching her lips in a kiss that confirmed all that Alysa had read in his passionate gaze. Their lips clung together, tasting, savoring, fulfilling, until it seemed that the only response to the fire they had started would be to quench it here in the newly restored formal garden.

  The repercussions of such an impetuous deed would be horrendous, however, and although they were both far gone in passion, enough sanity remained for them to end the kiss before all was lost.

  “Perhaps your father was wrong to allow us to come out to the garden alone,” Philip groaned as he dragged his lips from hers. “You intoxicate me, my lovely lady. When I am with you I want nothing more than to take you in my arms and make you mine.”

  Still cuddled against him, Alysa promised softly, “I would give myself to you freely, Philip. It is against all I have been taught is right and proper, but when I am with you I forget what I should do and obey my instincts.”

  “Come,” Philip reluctantly drew her away from his body, then tucked her arm through his. “Let us walk and talk of less incendiary things, as your father no doubt expected we would do when he allowed us to come out here alone.”

  Still full of the heady pleasure, Alysa tossed her head and laughed. “What a wonderful day today has been! It began with our thorough defeat of the odious Roundheads and ended with—” she squeezed his arm “—well, with the opportunity to walk in the sunshine with a handsome, charming man who delights me.”

  A shudder went through Philip as he forced himself not to respond as he wished to Alysa’s saucy comment. Instead, he addressed the first part of her remark. “Lieutenant Weston was indeed mislead, but I pray you, Alysa, don’t imagine that he is completely vanquished. The Roundheads know that there is an active Royalist movement here in West Easton and they will not patiently allow you to plot rebellion without repercussion.”

  Nothing could penetrate the bubble of pleasure that surrounded Alysa at that moment. “Pooh! We have trounced them once; we will do so again.” She smiled coaxingly up into Philip’s grave features. “But we are worrying over nothing, Philip. The consensus today was that rebellion would not be in the king’s best interests and that is what my brother will tell the Sealed Knot and the king, so it is unlikely that the government will have any reason to interfere with us once Thomas is away. Come, sir, do not look so gloomy. I know that England is not as it was when you left it, but it is still a fair land and a better place to live than anywhere on the Continent.”

  At that, Philip did smile. “Yes, you are right, lovely Alysa. And I am glad to be living at Ainslie.” He drew her to a stop and reached out to gently stroke her hair. “Had I not returned to Ainslie I would never have met you and I do not think I could bear that.”

  Alysa’s breath caught. His words flowed like honey, sweet and silken, while his eyes once again burned with promise. She swayed toward him and he grasped her waist.

  “You are so tiny, my hands can span your width,” he marveled. “Yet you are strong enough to control a powerful horse. Fragile and resilient in one. You fascinate me, Alysa Leighton. Come to me.”

  Willingly Alysa lifted her hands to his shoulders and eased her body against his. The passion that had been cut short earlier blazed forth again, hotter than before. He dipped his head and Alysa tilted her chin up so that their lips met and clung. As their tongues touched and mated, desire bathed her in its golden spell. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, for her knees were swiftly losing strength. She was dependent on him to keep her safe, but her heart knew that he would. Above all, she trusted him to do what was right for both of them. And if that went beyond the bounds of convention, Alysa didn’t care. She was so lost in the magnificent feelings his touch aroused that she did not hear the crunch of boots on gravel. Nor did Philip at first, but as the footsteps came closer he wrenched himself away from her.

  “Damn!” She looked up at him through dazed, hurt eyes. “Listen, Alysa. Someone is coming. Put your arm through mine and walk with me. Do you understand?”

  She obediently did as she was told, but she shook her head.

  Philip sighed, touched her cheek fleetingly and whispered, “For myself, I do not care if we are seen in each other’s arms, for I am not ashamed of what I feel for you, lovely Alysa. But I would not for the world have you subjected to the unpleasantness that would occur if we were caught in an embrace. So walk with me now and pretend that we have been chatting as carelessly as old friends who have not seen each other in years.”

  His explanation revived Alysa and she was able to laugh softly. “The feelings that fly between us cannot be masked by light conversation, dear sir, but I will try. Who is it who is following us? Do you know?”

  Philip shook his head. “Your father, perhaps, or a servant.”

  He was wrong. It was Cedric Ingram whose boots crunched loudly on the gravel path. Though he was dressed with his usual sumptuous glory, in Alysa’s eyes his gaudy green doublet and breeches with golden ribbon loops and rosettes could not hold a candle to the elegant blue doublet and black breeches that Philip was wearing.

  As he drew near, Cedric glowered at the picture Alysa and Philip made, standing close together and intimate in a way only a man and woman with an understanding could be. His expression darkened further as he neared and when he spoke his voice was shrill with agitation. “I was told you were out here, Mistress Alysa. I could not believe my ears when Strathern informed me he had permitted you to walk alone with Sir Philip. Come, I will take you back to the house.” He held out his arm, expectation writ large on his face.

  Alysa didn’t move. She shot Philip a mischievous look, but when she turned to Cedric her expression was grave. “Sir Philip and I were having a pleasant conversation, Master Ingram. You are welcome to join us, but we are not yet ready to return to the house.”

  Ingram’s eyes narrowed ominously. “Mistress, we have an understanding. You are duty bound to obey me.”

  Alysa swallowed. She did not want to have a bitter falling out with Cedric Ingram, but she could not allow him to go on believing that he merely had to ask for her hand for it to be bestowed upon him. “I am not, Master Ingram. Though you have assumed these many months that we would one day be betrothed, no promises have ever been made, by my father or by me.”

  She lifted her head proudly, tilting her chin with an oddly vulnerable defiance. “My father gave his permission for Sir Philip to walk in the garden with me and I am not ready to return as yet.”

  “And when she does return to the house I will take her,” Philip added. His voice was a low, dangerous growl that Cedric could not help but understand.

  He colored furiously. “I cannot believe that I am hearing this! That you would prefer this stranger to me is unimagin
able. Why, he could be the spy who has been plaguing us, yet you take him into your confidence with the blind trust of a child!”

  “And why not?” Alysa demanded, furious. “Sir Philip cannot be the spy, Cedric, because he was not privy to all of the information that was given to the Roundheads. Moreover, he has told me of himself and I believe him. Yes, I do trust him and I will thank you to keep your vile comments to yourself!”

  “Alysa,” Philip said very gently. “I thank you, dear lady, for your passionate defense of me, but I would much prefer to deal with Master Ingram myself.” His cold eyes bored into Cedric’s. “I believe we have a score to settle, Ingram. Let us discharge it tomorrow at dawn.”

  A light flickered in Cedric’s eyes, then was quickly hidden. “Preposterous! You expect me to duel with you over a woman who has the bad taste to prefer you? I think not! I will leave you both here to bill and coo like disgusting peasants. I intend to have a few sharp words with Lord Strathern before I take my leave of Strathern Hall.”

  Philip watched him leave, his expression hard. “So be it, Cedric Ingram. We will settle our score another day, you can be sure of that.”

  Alysa looked up at him, her face grave. “I’m sorry that you were subjected to that unpleasantness, Philip, but I am glad that it is done. I did not want to marry Master Ingram, but I could never bring myself to say so aloud. I feel much better now that it is over.”

  Philip gently touched her cheek. “Beware of him, Alysa. He did not take your rejection of him easily.”

  She wrinkled her nose distastefully. “No, he didn’t, did he? But what can he do beyond complain to my father?”

  “I don’t know,” Philip said slowly. “But I would put nothing past the man. Nothing at all.”

  Chapter 13

  “Thomas leaves in three days.” Lord Strathern looked into the dismayed blue eyes of his daughter and sighed. He knew that Alysa had hoped that there would be time for a proper visit with her brother while he was in England, for they had been close since childhood. During Thomas’s exile in Europe she had missed him terribly. “Thomas wants to see you before he goes. He will be at the cottage of John Gardner early tomorrow morning. I promised him you would be there.”