Her Captive Cavalier

by Marina Oliver

  'What is it?' she asked, startled.

  'Caro, there is something I have been meaning to say to you, to ask. But there has been so much else to think of, and there's never seemed to be a suitable time, and this is not – '

  He paused, and in the silence a shot rang out, stark and sudden in the still evening. Caro's horse, normally well-mannered, even stolid, reared up in fright. She managed to retain her seat with a somewhat undignified clutch at his mane, but was unable to prevent him from bolting.

  As she clung desperately to the saddle and they raced along the track she could hear more hooves thundering along behind her. Feeling more secure, she risked a glance back and found Robert pounding in her wake.

  'Keep going!' he shouted, and she nodded, urging her horse on instead of trying to slow him.

  The track widened and Robert brought his own more powerful beast alongside.

  'Bandits or highwaymen,' he shouted across to her. 'Not soldiers, this far west.'

  That was little consolation, she thought wryly. They still had guns.

  She looked back over her shoulder. A pair of men behind were keeping pace with them.

  'The pistols, that Jacob put for you. Can you give me one?' Robert asked.

  'Yes.'

  Caro's horse by now was flagging, and she was able to draw the pistol carefully out of the holster. It took some moments to twist it round, she was so afraid of dropping it, but eventually she held it out for Robert. He reached over and took it from her with a brief word of thanks.

  'Keep riding, and you'll come to an inn soon. Less than a mile, I think. I'll follow when I've dealt with them,' he ordered. On the last words he slowed his horse and with a skill Caro envied twisted the animal round so that within a yard he was facing the other way, and the pistol had been aimed and fired.

  Caro, unwilling to leave him, despite his commands, had managed to bring her own tired beast to a stop a few yards further on, and she turned in the saddle to see what was happening. Would they shoot again? Had they another gun?

  Then a sound in front alerted her and she realised with dismay that two more riders were approaching from the opposite direction. From the encouraging shouts they must be more robbers. It had been a trap.

  Behind, one of the robbers had been shot and his horse, terrified, could be heard plunged away across the open moor. Robert had his own pistols out now and as Caro watched he fired again, felling the second man of the pair behind.

  He had one more shot and she was in the way, Caro realised in dismay. Their attackers had not been able to shoot safely before, for fear of hitting one another, but that no longer applied with the two at the rear disposed of. Swiftly she turned her horse aside, forcing it up the bank and across the ditch. Over her shoulder she saw one of the approaching riders veer to come after her as the other aimed his own pistol and fired at Robert.

  Caro was struggling to get the second pistol from the holster, and with a gasp of triumph she brought it out. From the corner of her eye she saw Robert's horse stumble and fall slowly to the ground. There was the sound of another shot, but she could not tell whose it was, or see if it hit its target.

  She had no time to watch, and with a cry of anguish turned her pistol towards the man riding straight for her. He was almost on her, but her one thought was to avenge Robert. She halted her horse, took steady aim, and fired.

  This time she did not close her eyes. This time she wanted to hit the target, and to her immense satisfaction saw him rock in the sadlle as the bullet took him full in the chest. Then he was gone, clinging to the saddle as his horse galloped away.

  Fearful of what she would find, Caro rode back to the edge of the road where she'd last seen Robert's horse falling as the remaining attacker thundered down towards him.

  Robert's horse was on the ground, twitching in agony, but Robert had vaulted free of the stirrups and drawn his sword. His adversary, also with drawn sword, but still mounted, circled round to try and find an opening.

  Caro watched in frustration. The mounted man had an almost unbreakable advantage over them both, with Robert on foot and her only remaining weapon the small dagger she had thrust into her boot. There would be no time to get Robert mounted on her horse, so somehow she had to try and unseat the robber. But how could she achieve that?

  ***

  Chapter 10

  Caro looked round for inspiration. There had been four men, all mounted. Two were dead, the one she'd wounded had been carried away by his horse. Where were the other horses?

  To her increasing excitement she saw one grazing peacefully a short distance away. An idea emerged.

  She walked her own horse slowly towards the loose one. It edged away slightly, but when she halted resumed grazing. The second time she tried to approach it merely lifted its head to look at her, and by calling gently to it she was able to come alongside.

  The reins hung slackly and she gathered them up close under the bit. The horse permitted her to lead it down onto the track. She turned back to where Robert was still fending off the robber's attack and trying to dislodge him from the saddle.

  Caro dug in her heels and urged her horse into a gallop as quickly as she could, the other horse pounding alongside. She bore down on the two men, knowing that Robert was facing her and aware of her intention.

  His adversary turned when she gave a sudden shout. At that moment Robert ducked under his sword and grasped him by the arm, hauling him from the saddle as Caro swept past.

  She had some difficulty in halting the excited horses. When she turned to look, she found the two men fighting on foot, the robber's horse circling worriedly beyond them.

  By now it was dusk and difficult to distinguish what was happening at even a short distance. The men were evenly matched, but Robert had been fighting on foot for a considerable time. He was moving slowly and Caro was desperately afraid he might have been injured.

  As she watched, wondering whether a further intervention would help or hinder Robert, she heard the sound of trotting hooves behind her. Thank goodness, some other late traveller whose presence might scare away the robber.

  'Help!' she called, and turned to peer through the dusk at the newcomer. Why didn't he come faster? 'Come quickly, we're being attacked!' she called again.

  Why didn't he speak? She could distinguish the big, powerful horse, and the military bearing of the rider, but no details. She went closer, intending to urge him on, but suddenly his hand shot out and he caught her by the wrist.

  'So, pretty little Caro, I thought I'd come across you somewhere on this road. But you've taken an uncommon time getting here. Was it pleasant dallying with Royalist scum on the way?'

  'John Culham! You followed us all this way? These ruffians are your men?'

  She began to struggle, but he was far too strong for her. Within minutes he dragged her across the pommel of his saddle. With her stomach pressed painfully against the hard edge, and her hands held behind her in a cruel grip, she could only kick fiercely, but her efforts were unavailing.

  'We'll soon have the truth out of your Cavalier,' Culham said mockingly, turning to ride away. 'I guessed you'd head for Falmouth. We'd only to watch the most likely roads. My men will soon overpower him and bring him after us.'

  'Your men are dead, apart from that one!' Caro said with grim satisfaction. 'And Robert will soon send him to join them!'

  'What touching faith you have in him!'

  Caro prayed she was right. When she heard the sound of hooves galloping after them she redoubled her silent pleas.

  Robert, though hard pressed, had seen the new arrival and heard Caro's protests. Since the start of the ambush he'd suspected it was more than just a casual robbery. It was too well organised. Caro's exclamation confirmed this suspicion.

  It gave him the added spur. Suddenly he swung his sword in a rapid movement that deceived his opponent who found his own weapon inexplicably torn from his grasp.

  He had but a few moments to wonder how it had happened before Robe
rt drove his blade through the other's heart, then, not waiting for him to collapse, raced to leap on the back of the loose horse and set off after Culham and Caro.

  Culham glanced back and realised it was not one of his men coming up fast behind him. With his double load he could not hope to outdistance the other, and with a curse he flung Caro down and set spurs to his horse.

  *

  When Caro awoke her head was aching violently. She opened her eyes but did not recognise the room. Where was she, and what had happened? It was all too difficult. She sighed, closed her eyes and tried to will the pain away.

  Some time later, when she tried to move she realised that her body ached even more than her head With another sigh she abandoned the struggle and retreated back into sleep.

  It was the following day before she was fit to talk. The innkeeper's wife who tended her, buxom, with frizzy red hair that constantly escaped from beneath her cap, friendly and curious, came into the room in some excitement. She helped her sit up, insisted on combing Caro's hair, and said the gentleman was wishful of a few minutes with her if she felt well enough.

  'What gentleman?' Caro demanded warily, recollection flooding back. 'Where am I? What happened?'

  'The gentleman who brought you here, of course,' the woman replied soothingly, but Caro became more agitated.

  'No, who, which one?' she persisted, but the woman had gone. Caro shrank back against the pillows, and then remembered the dagger in her boot. What had become of it?

  She stumbled out of bed, and realised the nightgown she wore must belong to the woman she had seen. It was far too long and voluminous for her.

  Clutching it awkwardly in her arms she looked hastily round the room. Her clothes were folded neatly on a stool, the boots placed tidily underneath.

  She threw the clothes to the floor, and gave a sob of relief to find her dagger underneath. Seizing it, she held it in front of her and turned to the door as the latch clicked.

  Slowly, agonising slowly it seemed to Caro, the latch lifted. She watched it tensely, and stepped back as the door swung open, holding her dagger in front of her.

  'Do you always greet me with a weapon?' Robert queried lazily, and with a sob Caro flung herself across the room, stumbling over the hem of the nightgown, and fell into his arms.

  'I thought it might be him!' she gasped. 'John Culham. What happened? Are you hurt? Did you fight him? He threw me off the horse,' she recalled.

  'Yes, and the fall stunned you for a while. Caro, my love, I am made intensely nervous while you wave that dagger about. Could you bear to let me have it?'

  She gave a weak laugh. 'Here it is. I'm sorry. But what happened? Did you catch him?' she demanded.

  'Yes, and he'll trouble us no more. I don't know if the one you shot got away, there have been no reports of another wounded man being found. Have you been practising your shooting secretly, by the way?'

  'No, I have not! And I only hit you because I shut my eyes when I fired' she said indignantly. 'This time I meant it, I really wanted to kill him!'

  'How bloodthirsty you've become! And how fortunate for me. It was a dangerous nest of roundhead vipers we wiped out between us,' he added with a chuckle. 'If they'd won, heaven knows what damage they could have done here, and the Prince is heading this way soon. Now, my dear Caro, ought you not to be in bed? I'm sure you're still not well enough to be cavorting about the room!'

  Suddenly aware that not only was she in a borrowed nightgown, but also clasped tightly in his arms, Caro blushed furiously and moved swiftly back.

  'I – I'm so sorry!' she mumbled. 'I was just so relieved it wasn't him! The landlady didn't tell me who it was.'

  She scrambled hastily into bed and pulled the covers well up to her chin.

  'So it was relief rather than joy at seeing me? I'm not flattered,' he said smoothly.

  She looked at him suspiciously, and decided it was a strange form of humour she could not understand. Her head must be worse than it felt.

  'How did you beat him?' she asked.

  'The first I disarmed, and took his horse. Culham was a poor swordsman,' he said calmly. 'He lasted but five minutes. When they were both dealt with I found you, and brought you to the inn at Columb. That was two days ago.'

  'When must we start for Falmouth? Have you sent for Henry Waring?'

  'No, I thought it best to wait until you were feeling more yourself. We needn't go until you're quite ready. And now, I think you should sleep.'

  She was immensely tired, but before she slept she dwelt on those few precious moments when she'd been clasped in his arms. She wanted to imprint the feel of his body, the outdoor, heathery scent of him, on herself. It would be all she had to remember him by.

  Two days later she'd recovered enough to travel. Robert had spent the time rounding up the loose horses from the moor nearby. He recovered Caro's own, and two belonging to the Roundheads. One replaced his mount, which had been shot, and the innkeeper was happy to accept the other. His own riding horse had been commandeered by the Royalist army two years since.

  They rode in silence for much of the day, but Robert insisted that they ride slowly with many halts for Caro to rest.

  They passed throught Truro at noon, and when they came in sight of the river, with the port of Falmouth spread out in front of them, Robert suggested a last stop.

  He lifted Caro down, as he had insisted on doing all day, saying she was still delicate. They hobbled the horses and sat looking across the estuary, the water grey under the pale winter sky. 'When will you go?' Caro asked. 'Can you find a ship?'

  'There's a friendly fisherman always ready to take me across to France,' he replied. 'I use this route often.'

  Caro wondered if she would ever see him again. It seemed unlikely. The war was probably over, the King defeated, and he would have little cause to return to England.

  'I wish you well,' she said quietly.

  'If the boat is ready I mean to sail tonight,' he said, and then turned towards her and took her hand in his. 'Caro, if I return soon, is there any hope you would come back with me to France?'

  'With you?' she repeated, feeling numb with surprise. Then a wave of fury hit her and she snatched her hand away.

  'Caro – ' he began, but she rushed into speech.

  'As your mistress, presumably? Why else would you ask me? No, Lord Ashring, I will be no man's mistress! Go and marry your Duke's daughter, but don't expect me to provide entertainment for your leisure hours!'

  'Caro! What Duke's daughter? What the plague are you talking about?'

  'The one you're betrothed to!'

  'Who on earth told you that?'

  'So you didn't intend me to know? Thank goodness Mistress Somerton mentioned it or I might have misunderstood you! And now please let go of my hand, you're hurting me, and it's time we moved!'

  'We're staying here until we've sorted this out. Julia has been causing trouble, has she? Caro, I'm not betrothed to anyone, let alone a Duke's daughter.'

  'But she said – '

  'Never mind what she said. Julia cannot resist trying to make trouble. You'll listen to me. I've never before asked anyone to marry me, but that's what I'm doing now. I want you to come to France with me as my wife. I love you, have been driven demented with the desire to take you in my arms and make love to you ever since I saw you in that doorway, aiming your pistol at me.'

  She stared at him, unable to speak. Her heart was so incredibly full she thought she would burst with happiness.

  'I'm not asking you to decide immediately, for I suppose this is unexpected. I'll return as soon as I've reported to the Queen in France, and hope you will have been able to decide by then. Caro, my beloved, I want you so much, can you give me any hope at all?'

  'But I – Robert, I didn't think you loved me! I thought it was hopeless! And please, don't leave me here! Why should I stay? I want to come with you now! I don't ever want to lose you, be away from you again!'

  Oblivious of a party of riders passing b
y he took her into his arms, and she melted into them as if they'd always been around her. For the first time she could give and receive kisses joyfully, with no doubts of his intentions. When she'd shot her Cavalier it had been the luckiest shot of the war.

  ###

  THE END

  Marina Oliver has written over 75 novels, all are available as ebooks.

  For the latest information please see Marina's web site:

  http://www.marina-oliver.net.

  More seventeenth century novels by Marina:

  Cavalier Courtship

  As a child, Caroline helped a fugitive Cavalier escaping from the Battle of Worcester in 1651.

  When her aunt dies years later and her Puritan uncle remarries and sires a son Caroline is disinherited, and threatened with a hateful marriage.

  Escaping to London where she hopes to find help, she once more meets her Cavalier.

  *

  Campaign for a Bride

  Barbara's arranged marriage took place when she was still a child.

  Her husband Ludovick was a supporter of King Charles I, fighting in his armies, and comes to claim her only to find Barbara has fallen in love with a neighbour and wants to have her marriage annulled.

  Ludovick refuses to free her, and sets about wooing his bride.

  *

  A Civil Conflict

  In the turbulent 1640s, English families and friends were divided by war, their loyalties fragmented.

  Lysbeth was one who came to hate both factions.

  Her first encounter with the realities of war came when she clashed with Sir James Howard, a Royalist officer, requisitioning sheep to feed the army.

  Opposing her Royalist family, she turns for reassurance to her childhood friend, Tom Bridges, who is a soldier for Parliament.

  As the conflict grows, she experiences Parliamentary atrocities, witnesses the bloody carnage of the battle of Naseby, and is threatened by the unbridled, battle-weary soldiers in its aftermath.

  She has to resolve the turmoil of her own emotions, influenced by the two men who, in their different ways, have helped to shape her life.