Her Rebel Heart (30 page)

Luke took the paper Ned brandished and ran his eye down the list of figures amounting to a considerable amount of money. “Not much I can do about it. I haven't even got coin to pay the soldiers.”

“Captain Collyer!”

Luke sprang to full alertness as one of the scouts he'd sent out that morning, came riding across the drawbridge at a full canter. He threw himself off his lathered horse and came running up to where Luke and Ned were standing.

“What is it?”

“Farrington...” The man puffed as if he had been the one doing the galloping. Weeks of siege did nothing for the fitness of man or beast. “An armed force with Farrington's standard coming from Ludlow. About an hour away at the pace he's going.”

Luke swore. “I didn't expect him back. Ned, sound the alarm and get everyone back inside the castle walls.”

With Hawk Tower destroyed the highest vantage was afforded by the Gatehouse tower and by the time Farrington's standard came into view, the officers of the garrison and Deliverance waited for him there.

Luke leaned on the wall, watching the progress of the standard. He straightened.

“It's not a large force,” he said. “One hundred men at the most. No guns.”

Even as he watched, a single horse detached itself from the main body and rode slowly towards the castle. The rider carried the white flag of parlay.

Recognising the magnificent chestnut stallion and the rider as Sir Richard Farrington himself, Luke gathered the officers and took the stairs down to the castle wall.

Farrington stopped within musket range and looked up at the wall.

Luke addressed him. “My lord, what can we do for you?”

Farrington shifted his grip on the flag pole. “I have come to speak with my son.”

“Which son?”

Farrington's gaze travelled across the row of faces, stopped at Jack and then moved back to Luke. “I have only one son,” he said. “And you are holding him captive.”

Luke heard the hiss of breath from Jack and out of the corner of his eyes saw Ned clap him on the shoulder.

“Colonel Charles Farrington is to be sent to Gloucester to face trial for his crimes,” Luke replied. “What is your business with him?”

Farrington's shoulders stiffened. “A father's wish to speak with his son. Nothing more.”

Luke turned and gave a nod to the soldiers on the gate. The door opened. Farrington dismounted, laid the flag down on the ground, unbuckled his sword and placed it carefully on the ground before crossing the bridge.

Luke waited for him in the courtyard with an escort of four armed soldiers. At his insistence, Deliverance waited in the Great Hall to receive her visitor. Farrington looked from one to the other and across at the Thunderer. Luke's men had dragged the great gun inside the castle and it now stood as an impotent testament to their survival.

“I honour your flag,” Luke said, indicating the escort. “This is just a precaution. I'll take you to the prisoner.”

“Before you do, I would speak with you and Mistress Felton,” Sir Richard said.

Luke nodded and, indicated for Farrington to follow him.

In the Great Hall, Farrington looked up at the ceiling where Luke's men had been patching the holes.

“Is it true?” Farrington asked.

“Is what true?” Luke asked

“The stories I have had relayed to me about the fate of the Byton garrison?”

Luke nodded. “The garrison had surrendered. Your son ordered them to be tied them in pairs and their throats to be slit. I saw the bodies.”

Farrington looked away.

Luke gestured at Deliverance. “His crimes don't end there. He threatened to strip and rape Mistress Felton. Do you want me to continue?”

Sir Richard shook his head. All his confidence and swagger had gone from him. He looked old and tired.

“You still have one son,” Deliverance said.

The older man stiffened. “Jack is lost to me. I can never forgive his treachery.”

“Even after you have seen everything Charles is capable of?” Deliverance said. “Would you rather hold on to a cold-hearted murderer or have a man of honor and integrity.”

“Jack has betrayed his family. That is the worst betrayal. Now take me to my son. My only son.”

“Sir Richard, please, if ever you were a friend of ours, what Charles did was the act of a monster,” Deliverance persisted.

Sir Richard ignored her and turned towards the door.

Luke caught Deliverance's stricken look. He shook his head, trying to convey to her that this was civil war and the Farringtons and the Feltons would forever stand on either side of a line that could not be crossed.

Luke allowed father and son to meet in private but he waited outside the door with the armed escort. The Kinton Lacey garrison watched Farrington’s men from the walls, their weapons primed, for the first sign of trouble from the royalist force outside the gate.

Whatever passed between Sir Richard Farrington and his son was concluded in less than fifteen minutes. Luke locked the door behind him and with the escort saw Sir Richard to the gate.

At the gate Farrington stopped. “Thank you, Captain Collyer. You have proved yourself an honourable adversary.”

“We are all subject to the dictates of our consciences, Sir Richard.”

Farrington stroked his moustache. “Maybe. I bid you good day.”

Luke watched by the gate as the man picked up his sword and flag and remounted the horse. He rode away at a gentle trot, rejoining his troops. The whole body wheeled and rode away.

Luke left his men at the ready but Farrington had gone and Luke doubted he would return. The campaigning season ended in a few short months and the New Year would bring new challenges and maybe another force to the gates of Kinton Lacey, but he doubted he would be there to see them.

Deliverance lay awake watching Luke sleeping in the thin light of early morning. She had shared a bed with her sister for many years but a man was different. She smiled. She didn’t mind that he slept on his stomach, sprawled across the bed, leaving her with only a narrow strip on the edge. She liked the comfort of his even breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his back.

She flicked the covers back revealing the whole, long, beautiful length of him from his broad shoulders to his narrow hips, firm buttocks and long, lean rider's legs and sighed deeply. It still astonished her that this beautiful man seemed to love her.

She let her finger glide down the length of his spine. She followed her finger with gentle kisses and when he still didn’t wake, she slapped his rump. He groaned and swore, rolling over to look up at her.

“What did you do that for?”

“It's time for me to go,” she said.

They had received the message yesterday. Gloucester had been relieved and her father was on his way home. This would be their last opportunity of a night together before Sir John returned.

“We both need to be at our best today,” she said.

Luke sighed. “Toby has been polishing my breastplate for the last two days. I hope your father is impressed.”

Deliverance laid her head on his chest. Luke stroked her face. “He should be very proud of his daughter.”

Deliverance turned her head to smile at him. “And his garrison commander.”

She sat up, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. Luke curled a strand in his finger.

“Are you in a hurry?” he wheedled.

Deliverance rolled on top of him and kissed his nose, his chin and his mouth. “I'm sure a few more minutes won't matter.”

A sharp rap on the door startled them both into wakefulness. Bright daylight and the sounds of a castle at work told them they had slept too long.

“Sorry to bother you.” Ned's voice came from behind the stout oak door. “But Sir John Felton has been sighted. He's only a mile away.”

Deliverance shot a desperate look at Luke. “He must have been on the road since break of day. Oh no, this isn't how I meant to meet my father.”

No flitting back to her room in the cold light of dawn. She groped for her clothes. She needed to look properly dressed and as if she had been up for hours.

Luke made a poor lady's maid. He seemed to be much more adept at getting her out of her clothes then back into them.

As he tied the lace on her bodice he said, “You look fine, Deliverance.”

Deliverance threw back the bolt on the door and shot past Ned Barrett. She didn't have time for pleasantries.

From beyond the walls, she heard a trumpet and drumbeats and a mighty cheer from the garrison, no doubt lining the castle walls. Her father had arrived and she felt like a strumpet who had just climbed out of her lover's bed.

She was a strumpet who had just climbed out of her lover's bed.

In her bedchamber she found Penitence, immaculately dressed in a sober gown of grey wool.

Penitence looked at her sister and gasped, “Oh, Liv. You can't meet Father looking like that. Quick, Meg, fetch some water.”

Her plans of greeting her father from the gatehouse abandoned, Deliverance took a deep breath and composed herself. Clad in a gown of dark blue wool trimmed only with plain collar and cuffs, her hair shoved into a neat white matronly cap, she descended with dignity to the Great Hall, her heart beating wildly beneath her bodice.

Did she have strumpet tattooed on her forehead?

The room seemed full of men in armour and uniform. Her father stood with his back to them, talking to Luke, who looked, annoyingly calm and unflustered and perfectly attired. Deliverance wondered when he had found the time to draw a razor over his chin. Luke said something and Sir John turned. A smile spread across his face and he held out his arms, in a curiously uncharacteristic, paternal gesture.

“Here, they are. My beautiful daughters. Come here and greet your father!”

The two women came forward. Deliverance gave her father a dutiful kiss on the cheek and stepped back when he made no move to embrace her. Penitence he folded in his arms and hugged her.

Deliverance saw Luke's quick glance in her direction. Nothing had changed. Penitence would always be her father’s darling.

Sir John released his younger daughter and looked from one to the other with a fond smile.

“Girls, I know we have much news to exchange but run along. I have men's business to discuss. I will see you in the parlour shortly.”

“But, Father...” Deliverance stared at her father in disbelief. After all she had done, she was to be dismissed out of hand?

He waved at the door. “I will see you in the parlour.”

Luke looked at Deliverance and gave her a barely perceptible shrug and a sympathetic smile, as Sir John turned back to the officers of the garrison. “Now, Collyer, a full account of what has transpired here, please.”

Fuming, Deliverance paced the parlour floor. “Dismissed, like a pair of brainless ninnies,” she said for the fourth time.

“Liv, please stop your pacing, you are making me quite ill. You know what Father is like. I'm sure Luke will explain it all to him,” Penitence said.

It was an hour before Sir John appeared at the door. He entered the room and sat down in his familiar chair, crossing his legs. He steepled his fingers and regarded his daughters.

“I hear nothing but good things about the way you two have conducted yourselves over the last few months,” he said. “I am very proud of both of you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Deliverance said. “We could not have done it without Captain Collyer.”

Sir John nodded and fingered his moustache. “I have to say I had my doubts about sending him here but he was causing nothing but trouble in Gloucester. I've given him orders to escort Charles Farrington to London to stand trial. Collyer is best placed to give the evidence needed to see the man swing.”

“You’re sending him away?” Deliverance stared at her father in disbelief. “He will return here—after London?”

“Return here? Don't be silly, girl.”

Panic gripped Deliverance. A world without Luke in it was unimaginable. “But what if Sir Richard tries again?”

“If he does, I have every confidence in my new garrison commander.” He patted the arm of his chair. “Penitence, dear child, come here.”

Penitence glanced at her sister and like an obedient young girl, perched on the arm of her father's chair.