Beloved Enemy

BELOVED ENEMY

JANE FEATHER

SWEET CONQUEST

"
We
are enemies, Colonel,
"
she said curtly. "You the
conqueror, and I the prisoner. It is not a position that allows for
truce."

"
We
are also people
"
He took a step toward her.
"
Cannot two people develop a liking
for each other despite politics, Virginia?
''

"
If
you consider you have the right to use my given name, Colonel Marshall, then I
must consider that the privilege is mutual.
"

She had hoped to goad him again, but the colonel was a
stubborn man, and there was something about her slight, determined figure, the
proud set of her head, that stirred him as no woman had ever done. "My
name is at your disposal
.
My friends call me Alex."

"And what do your prisoners call you?" Her hand was
on the wooden latch of the dairy door, the knuckles white under the unnaturally
fierce grip.

To her horror, a lean, strong hand closed over hers.
"
I do not wish to fight with you,
Virginia. There are other things I would much prefer to do."

It was quite true, he realized, keeping his hand on hers,
lifting her face with the other. The gray eyes widened in startled protest as
his words sank in, and a tremor shook the slim frame as he placed
his
mouth
firmly and deliberately over the
full, generous one below . . .

BELOVED
ENEMY

EDITORIAL:

This will
take a while to go over scan typos.

Any word
with an m is suspect and can be a th such as the word "mat",
"me", "mey", "mis", "mink" ,
"mough", "mem" may be a mistake and actually be
"that", "the", "they", "this",
"think", "though", "them"

D is
inaccurately being read instead of TL.  Any word with d like gendy, silendy,
flady, gende, casde, setde, batde etc. should be gently, silently, flatly,
gentle, castle, settle, battle, etc.

And the
ususal "di" is being read instead of th such as "anodier"
for "another", "fadier" for "father",
"diere" for "there", "die" for "the",
"dis" for "this", "moudi" for "mouth",
"padi" for "path", "diat" for "that"
etc

.

And I’m
seeing "fi" for "h" so words like "tfiat" should
be "that", "tfiere" should be "there", etc.

"bom"
could be replaced by "born" or "both"

If you
see a weird word with k or U, try replacing  with "li"

I’ve
seen the word “dunk” instead of “think”

There
are again, many words like “me”  and “mere” which should be “the” and “there”
and lots of “die” words which should be “the” and "men" for
"then" and "man" for "than"

Many
times, the word “domes” appears which should be “clothes”

Zebra, Kensington Publishing

Copyright 1987

C
ha
pter One

They came at sunset. There were perhaps two hundred of them,
the evening sun setting alight the round helmets and breastplates, turning the
tips of steel pikes and halberds into
f
lowing
candles. Perhaps a third were on horseback, the remainder on foot—
a
silent, orderly brigade tramping across the overgrown
lawns, neglected d
ri
veway, and paths that led to the
house.

She stood waiting in the open front door on this warm su
m
mer evening of 1648. The house at her back was a
Jacobean mansion of soft, sea-weathered stone, the classical
c
ornices and pilasters bespeaking an age before civil
war, wh
e
n an English gentleman could afford
to indulge his taste for the gentle arts of architecture and landscaping, and
build for posterity the manor house that declared his wealth and en
d
eavor.

The brigade drew closer, and
i
t became clear that one
m
an rode
slightly ahead of the front ranks. Her practiced eye approved both his horse—
a
magnificent black charger standing maybe twenty hands
—a
nd the easy seat of
the
rider. The latter carried neither pike nor musket, but one
g
loved hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his hip,
the other held the reins as loosely as if he were astride a placid
m
are.

The cavalcade came to a halt at the base of the shallow
flight of steps leading to the front door. She remained at her post, waiting in
silence. For a long moment the quiet was broken only by the whinny of a horse,
the clink of a bridle as its wearer tossed a head and pawed the gravel. The
ranks of men in their leathern britches, helmets, and breastplates stood at
attention as the sun dipped behind the headland and vanished into Alum Bay.

As if the loss of the sun were a signal of some kind, the
leading horseman declaimed:
"
I am come
by the authority of Parliament to sequester all lands and property pertaining
to one John Redfern of
this
Isle of Wight, whose Malignancy to
the rule of Parliament has been proven."

The figure on the steps merely inclined her head. What else
was she to do? It was not as if she had an army at her back, muskets trained on
the silent ranks come to wrest from her her birthright. She had a ready sense
of the absurd that in happier days had landed her hip deep in childhood
trouble, and now it again came most inconveniently to the fore—
t
wo-hundred armed men facing one unarmed, unprotected
woman! Her lips twitched.

The man had witnessed many emotions during these years of
civil war. He had seen bravado, resignation, true courage, abject terror, but
never could he remember seeing laughter on the face of a Royalist when the New
Model Army enforced the decrees of Parliament.

He swung from his horse and mounted the steps, drawing off
his gauntlets. "Your name, mistress?
"

"Is
th
is an
introduction, sir? Or simply an inquisition?"

Her eyes were gray—
a
s
cold as the Atlantic Ocean crashing against the Needle Rocks that stood guard
over this stretch of water between the Isle of Wight and the English mainland.
She was young—
b
arely twenty, he decided. Tall for a
woman, but her frame slender and pliant as a willow in the deep-blue kirtle of
homespun linen, a white apron tied in a businesslike fashion that merely served
to accentuate a waist that he could span with both hands. Her skin carried the
golden bloom of summer days spent in the open air. He glanced down at her quiet
hands. A slim gold band encircled her ring finger, and the hands were as brown
as the small face, but there was a work-roughened quality to their skin that
indicated hardship.

Alex Marshall, the youngest son of the earl of Grantham,
suddenly remembered his upbringing.
"
I
am Colonel Alexander Marshall, mistress.
"

"
That
is an uncomfortably royal name for a Roundhead to carry, Colonel," she
said, without immediately responding to the introduction.

Alex Marshall had few scruples when it came to pitched
battle,
little
compunction when he fulfilled
Parliament's orders and arrested the king's adherents, sequestered
then-estates, and disinherited their occupants. Until this moment, however, he
had never felt the slightest inclination to vent frustration on a woman.

Those gray eyes mocked him as she curtsied and said,
"
Virginia Courtney, Colonel. I have
little hospitality to offer you and . . ." She gestured at the throng.
"
. . . your cohorts. But what I have,
I gladly extend."

Alex was conscious of two-hundred pairs of eyes at his back
as he stood alone facing this extraordinary woman who made fun of him with
every supple movement and every glint in her eyes. A woman who offered him
hospitality as a gracious hostess extending succor to the wanderer.

"
Who
is here with you?" It was a harsh demand, an attempt to establish a
supremacy that was usually unquestioned.

"
Why,
no one, Colonel. I am quite alone
,
"
she responded. "You need have no fear for your men's safety. They are not
about to be attacked." The voice was dulcet, sweet in its insolent
challenge.

Ginny watched him covertly. She must take care not to
antagonize the conqueror too much lest she endanger others than herself. It was
a fine line she must tread if she were to achieve her object. He was in his
late twenties, she decided, and as personable as it was possible for anyone to
be in that detestable uniform. His eyes were a mélange of greeny-brown—
n
ot true hazel, but moving in
that
direction; his eyebrows dark brown and most
definitive. An aquiline nose stood above full lips that at this moment were set
in a thin line. There was an uncompromising set to the jaw, Ginny reflected, as
she wondered what color his hair would be if he ever took off that helmet. One
thing she knew, it would be cropped short in the manner of all Roundheads.

"
What
relationship do you hold to John Redfern?
"

"His daughter, sir."

"
And
where is your mother?
"

"Dead, these six months." It was a flat statement.
"My father, as I am sure you are aware, died three years ago at the battle
of Naseby
.
"

"And your husband?" His eyes fixed on the wedding
ring.

"Killed during the surrender of Oxford." It was
another simple, expressionless statement.

"And where is your household, Mistress Courtney?"
She was forcing this catechism from him, putting him in the position of a
boorish brute dragging the catalogue of war deaths from a lone widow. The thin
line of his lips tightened.

"
Gone
.
" She shrugged with an assumption of ease.
"There is
little
purpose, Colonel, in maintaining an
estate destined for the block. I have lived alone these past six months. If you
doubt my word, you have only to look around." Ginny gestured to the
overgrown lawns, the box hedges around the flower garden springing out of their
former ornamental shapes to throw unruly sprigs into the weed-infested broad
walks, destroying the neatness of the rectangles and squares
that
had marked her mower
'
s beloved garden.

"
There
is absolutely
no one
living with you?" He stared, incredulous.

"Have I not just said so, Colonel?" A martial light
appeared in the previously cold gray depths of her eyes. She was enjoying
herself, Alex Marshall realized, as she stood challenging him in the face of an
armed brigade.

The colonel, however, was most definitely not enjoying
himself. It had been ten years since anyone had questioned his authority,
either implicitly or explicitly, and it was not an experience he wished to
continue —particularly when the questioner was a mere slip of a girl.

"How old are you?" he snapped.

"I do not consider that to be your affair,
Colonel." Had she overplayed her hand? It was a lamentable tendency she
had when her blood rose in anger or when the ga
m
e took precedence over the goal. Tread softly now!

She had little chance, however, to follow her own advice. The
colonel spun her around and propelled her into the house away from watching
eyes. The ha
l
l was large and cool,
th
e walls elaborately paneled, the plasterwork of the
ceiling ornate. A broad staircase with an intricately carved baluster led to
the upper floors. But the colonel, at
this
point, was not interested in admiring his surroundings. "I asked you a
question, Mistress Courtney, and I will have my answer."

"And if I choose not to give it to you?"

"
Then
you will discover, girl, that I am an uncomfortable man to challenge." He
spoke very softly.

It was
that
soft voice that convinced Ginny,
more than the hand still gripping her elbow and the exasperation in the
greeny-brown eyes. Deciding that she had played with fire for as long as it was
safe to do so, Ginny shrugged nonchalantly and said,
"
nineteen, Colonel."

"
And
why have you been permitted to remain here unattended?"

"In the absence of my parents and my husband, sir, there
is no authority that I am prepared to acknowledge," Ginny r
e
plied coolly.

"And what o
f
your husband's family? There must be someone who stands guardian to you. You
are not yet of age."

"I did not say I had no guardian." She spoke slowly
as if to a half-witted child.
"
I said
only that there is no authority I am prepared to accept."

Taking her chin between long fingers, he tilted her face and
examined it thoughtfully. It was an arresting countenance, dominated by those
fine eyes, but much more youthful man he had originally perceived. "My
child, I am afraid that your parents and your husband must have sadly neglected
their duties. You appear remarkably undisciplined."

Virginia, her composure shattered as he paid her back in her
own coin, attempted to pull herself free from his hold, hut the fingers
tightened on her chin. He held her thus for a minute longer and then, with a
satisfied chuckle, released her. "It is not pleasant, is it, Mistress
Courtney, to be goaded? Come, I wish to inspect the house
."

"
You
wish to see it first, before giving your men the freedom to pillage?"
Venom coated every word as she took her revenge. The gasp of outrage this time
came from the colonel. He took a step toward her, but she stood her ground, for
he was not to know that her knees shook beneath her skirt.

"My men do
not
pillage," he hissed.

"Then
they
are the
exceptions to the rule," bravely she said. "Vandal and Roundhead are
held to be synonymous these days."

It was, of course, true and a fact that Colonel Marshall
deeply regretted. Many beautiful houses and priceless paintings had, in the
last year, fallen victim to the besieging cannon, the soldier's pike, and the
burning torch. But his own men were too well disciplined, too much in awe of
their colonel, who punished the slightest excess with a fearful consistency.