He turned back to the table and picked up his hat. He glanced at the paper on which Ned had been writing, recognising, between the scratching out and ink blots, something that appeared to resemble verse.
“What are you doing?” Luke snatched up the paper before Ned had a chance to retrieve it. A flush of embarrassment coloured Ned's cheeks as Luke read aloud. “Oh Penitence, so fair of face...”
He scanned the rest of the appalling doggerel before tossing the paper back at Ned with a shake of his head.
“May I remind you, we are not here to fall in love with Sir John Felton's pretty daughter,” he said. “We are here for one reason only and that is to ensure that Sir John Felton's...” he sought the right word. He would hardly call Deliverance plain or ugly. She had an unconventional face that in the right moment, caught off guard, he would almost call beautiful. “That Sir John's more interesting daughter is able to defend her home. If you are anxious for female company, there are a couple of pretty and accommodating young women in the dairy.”
Ned shook his head. “You don't waste time, Collyer!”
Luke smiled and winked. He retrieved his hat and spinning it in his hand, left Ned to his hopeless infatuation and bad poetry.
Deliverance looked up into the beefy face of the enormous, barrel-chested Sergeant Hale, who served Luke both as Sergeant and preacher. She had heard his fine baritone leading his men in singing psalms as they worked.
The man shifted uncomfortably. “I 'ave me orders.”
“But these staves are too short and insubstantial,” Deliverance repeated. “They will hardly hold back an attacking force.”
“They will if they are placed at the correct angle,” Luke Collyer's voice came from behind her. Deliverance turned to face her nemesis, noting the grim line of his mouth.
“Mistress Felton, could you spare me a moment of your valuable time?”
“I was just telling your sergeant—”
“I heard.” Luke's eyes flashed with anger. “Carry on, Hale, as ordered by me. Mistress Felton, if you would be so kind?”
He took Deliverance's elbow and propelled her up the stairs into the Great Hall. She shook her arm free, and braced herself for the tirade she expected. If she was honest with herself, it was probably deserved. She was behaving like a petulant child deprived of a toy.
Luke Collyer sat down at the head of the table in her father's great oak carver and gestured for her to take a seat.
He ran a hand over his eyes. “Mistress Felton. I acknowledge that this is your demesne and indeed, I am in awe of your knowledge of matters military but we can only have one commander and, whether you like it or not, that person is me.” He straightened in the chair and leaned forward, forcing her to look him in the eye.
“But—”
“Hear me out.” He held up a hand and she fell silent. “I have a proposal. We need to be ready for that happy day when Sir Richard Farrington takes it upon himself to return to his quest of subduing the rebels of this county.”
“Perhaps he has decided to leave us alone?” Deliverance suggested. “We've certainly seen nothing of him or his men since you scared them away.”
Luke shook his head. “No. He has just retired to Ludlow to lick his wounds. I have every reason to believe that he will be back as soon as he receives the arms he is waiting on.”
“How do you know that?”
Luke smiled and Deliverance glowered. He had an infuriating smile that implied great inner knowledge to which she would never be privy.
“I have my sources,” he said.
“What arms is he waiting on?”
He shook his head. “That I don't know. However, when Sir Richard, with his well-armed and better-trained men turn up again at your gate, we could find ourselves incarcerated here for quite some time. How many people do you think we will need to feed and quarter?”
Deliverance did a quick calculation. “Upwards of at least one hundred.”
“I do not have the time to see to the provisioning of a siege that could last one, two or even three months,” he said.
Deliverance’s heart skipped a beat. “Three months? But surely someone will come to our aid before then?”
“I don't wish to alarm you, Mistress Felton, but we need to be realistic. Gloucester is already under pressure and could well be besieged itself within the next month or so. There will be no help from Wales and the nearest parliamentary force of any size would be at Warwick. You are sitting in the middle of a very unfriendly neighbourhood.”
“Oh.” Deliverance's stomach lurched as she realised he was quite right. To all intents and purposes they were completely and utterly alone.
“What I need is someone competent to see to the provisioning of the castle. We have water in the castle well.” He paused and frowned. “By the way, I suggest we mount a twenty-four hour guard on the well.”
“Even though we're not under siege?”
“If we lose the water, then we are lost.”
“And you want me to do this task?”
“I would like you to be my adjutant and see to the logistics of the siege. Apart from food, we will need quarters, arrangements for the sick and wounded, sanitation and also the security of our powder.”
“Doesn't Ned...Lieutenant Barrett do all that?”
“It will free Ned to do other tasks. Believe it or not, we are on the same side and what I need is for you and I to work together, not at odds.” The corners of his eyes crinkled and a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Rather a nice mouth, Deliverance thought. She had seen the maids stop in their work as he passed by and greeted them. While their blatant simpering annoyed her, she was beginning to see the attraction.
“Does this arrangement suit you?” he said.
Deliverance thought for a moment. The last few days had been extremely stressful as she had waged what she knew to be a losing battle to maintain her authority. Even her men, loyal to the death to the Feltons, had begun to waver and defer to the charismatic and— she had to admit, competent—Captain Collyer. Much as it chafed her to give up on the command of the castle, what he proposed made sense.
She sniffed. “Very well, Captain Collyer.”
“Good. So, shall we call it a truce, Mistress Felton?”
She nodded and he held out his hand. She looked up into the grey eyes and took the proffered hand. Strong, warm fingers closed around hers and she caught her breath as a shiver ran down her spine.
“Truce,” she said, hurriedly extricating her hand, and covertly wiping her fingers on her skirts as she rose to her feet. “I shall set a guard on the well.”
Chapter 3
The disused castle chapel stood apart from the residential buildings, hard against the east wall of the Castle, the only wall that did not concern Luke. It faced the river and had been built with a considerable fall to the riverbank. No attacker in their right mind would try to attack from that direction. Attack from overhead was another matter and if the chapel were to take a direct hit from a cannon ball then the resulting explosion would cause less damage.
Luke found Deliverance in the chapel counting barrels of gunpowder. She looked up as he entered and scratched a number on the paper she had set out on an upturned, empty barrel in the middle of the room.
“I've given orders for the lead to be stripped from the outbuildings and melted down for musket balls,” she said in the sort of tone he imagined an ordinary woman would discuss making pastries, but Deliverance Felton was no ordinary woman.
“Err…good,” he said, feeling redundant to the conversation. “I have mounted the cannon on the Bastion tower and the Hawk Tower.”
“Excellent. The proximity of those two towers to the village worried me. It seemed the most obvious place for a full scale assault,” Deliverance said. Her lips twitched. “Farrington tried that on the third day.”
“You saw him off?”
“It began to rain and his troops seemed to just give up,” Deliverance said.
Luke h
ad to bite his lip to stop from smiling.
“There is another matter you can assist me with,” he said. “While Sir Richard is still licking his wounds in Ludlow, I would like to make the acquaintance of your neighbour at Byton. I hope perhaps we can be of some mutual assistance.”
“I doubt it,” Deliverance said. “You've not met Sir Alwyn Curtis. He and Father have not spoken to each other for years, not since the argument over the Brough's Wood.”
Luke held up his hand. “I've no interest in Brough's Wood. Surely such petty disputes can be put to one side when we are both facing a greater enemy?”
Deliverance laughed. “Unfortunately, I don’t share your optimism on that point. Sir Alwyn is very good at holding a grudge.”
Luke shook his head. “It’s worth a try. I would appreciate it if you would accompany me.”
“Me?” Deliverance frowned. “I’m not sure if I will add much to your cause.”
“If nothing else with a woman in the room, he is more likely to listen to what I have to say,” Luke said.
“Maybe.” Deliverance sounded doubtful. “I'm not sure my presence will be a hindrance or a help.”
“We can but try. I will have your horse saddled and if you could be ready to ride in half an hour. Does that suit you?”
Deliverance nodded and he turned, leaving her staring after him. As he stepped out into the sunshine, he smiled. It amused him to catch her off guard. He had learned long ago that you caught more flies with honey and he had to admit he quite enjoyed this game of wills he and Mistress Felton were engaged in.
Luke's heart sank at the first sight of Byton Castle. It stood in a pleasant park and garden, the ditches ringing the castle no more than soft, lawn covered indentations planted with shrubs. Apart from a hastily erected, rickety palisade fence that would not have prevented an elderly cow from tumbling it, the present owner appeared to have done little to strengthen the defence works.
‘Colonel’ Curtis kept them waiting in a parlour for a good twenty minutes. When he appeared, dressed in a stiff, new buff leather coat with a shining gorget at his throat, it was all Luke could do to keep a straight face, until he reminded himself that this idiotic figure held the lives of this small garrison in his pudgy hand.
Curtis acknowledged Deliverance with a haughty inclination of his head. Deliverance curtsied and introduced Luke. Curtis gave Luke a cursory inspection, and from the twitch of his extravagant moustache, he did not approve of what he saw.
Curtis indicated a chair for Deliverance but no such courtesy was extended to Luke who remained standing. Curtis sat himself in a large, oak chair well padded with cushions and crossed his legs as a handsome, red-haired maid entered carrying a tray with a jug of ale. As she offered the visitors a cup, Luke studied the girl, liked what he saw and winked at her. She grinned back. Luke’s gaze followed the provocative sway of her hips as she left the room. When he returned his attention to the matter in hand, he had to face Deliverance’s furrowed brow and compressed lips. He bestowed a smile on her and gave his attention to the Colonel who had angled his chair toward Deliverance, excluding Luke from the conversation.
“Mistress Felton, your father is in Gloucester, I hear?” Felton said, as if they were discussing a pleasant social engagement.
“He is,” Deliverance replied.
“It is only to be expected of your father to leave his estate and two helpless females alone and unprotected,” Curtis said, his lip curling in a derisory sneer.
It occurred to Luke that Curtis did not know Felton's daughters very well. He would not have described either of them as ‘helpless females’.
Deliverance’s shoulders stiffened. “He has sent Captain Collyer and men to strengthen the garrison at Kinton Lacey. We are hardly alone and unprotected.” She shot a quick glance at Luke and he thought he detected the shadow of a smile in the twitch of her lips.
Curtis harrumphed. “I heard you had a bit of trouble from that upstart, Farrington?”
“He decided to lay siege to us but fortunately Captain Collyer saw him off and we've seen nothing more of him,” Deliverance said.
Curtis flashed a glance at Luke and then turned back to her. “Well, I can understand why you have come looking for my assistance, young lady.”
“On the contrary,” Deliverance said. “We are here to offer you our assistance.”
“You? Offer me assistance?” Curtis stared Deliverance. He rose to his feet, colour rising to his florid cheeks.
“And Captain Collyer.” Deliverance gestured at Luke.
Luke moved beside her, forcing himself into Curtis’ line of sight. He drew himself up to his full height, topping the irritating little man by a good head. “Sir, I am charged by Sir John Felton to see to the defence of Kinton Lacey Castle and I have come today to see what aid we can be to you, in your support of Parliament's cause. Our security can only be aided by ensuring that Byton is well-prepared for siege.”
Curtis dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
“I do not take advice from mere captains,” he said imperiously.
Luke took a breath, trying to contain his irritation with this infuriating, pompous little man. “You may not take it, but I shall give it anyway, sir. You need to strengthen your defences on your eastern side. The ditches should be re-dug to a depth of at least six feet and a solid palisade erected, not that wicket you have put up. The wall on the south side is also in need of strengthening, and your gate will not hold a charge. Furthermore you should ensure you have water and supplies to survive a siege of at least two months.”
Curtis had turned an alarming shade of purple during his recitation. Now he exploded. “How dare you presume to tell me your business, Captain Collyer. Mistress Felton, I will not stand here to be insulted by this... this... tinker's boy!”
“Tinker's boy?” Luke stared at the preposterous man. “I am touching thirty years of age and as for my birthright—” He snapped his mouth shut before he betrayed himself.
Curtis ignored him, rounding on Deliverance. “I have no wish to be lectured to by any lackey of your father's. Take your captain back to Kinton Lacey and leave me to the protection of my own home. Your father showed no such generosity of spirit towards me over the matter of Brough's Wood and I told him then, and I'll tell you now, I will not have any more dealings with Feltons, of whatever gender. Good day to you both.”
Luke took a step backwards towards the door. He gave an ungracious bow and as he straightened, he said, keeping his tone low and moderate, an effort in the circumstances, “I apologise if I have offended you, Colonel Curtis. We have only your interests, and those of the souls within these walls, at heart. We will not trouble you again.”
“Out,” Curtis screamed.
It was not until they had put a few hundred yards between themselves and Byton that Luke looked at Deliverance for the first time. Her face was ashen and her mouth set in a grim line.
She glanced at him. “Stupid, stupid man! I did warn you.”
“Unfortunately, this war is full of men just like him,” Luke said.
Deliverance glanced at him. “But you were right. Even I could see that castle cannot be defended.”
“If Farrington has any sense, he will move on it first,” Luke said, thinking aloud.
They rode in silence for a few minutes before Deliverance spoke.
“Why are you only a captain? You clearly have sufficient age and experience to hold a much higher rank.”
Luke looked at her in surprise at the question. “I thank you for your confidence in my abilities, Mistress Felton but to answer your question I have an unfortunate habit of annoying my senior officers.”
“What do you do to annoy your senior officers?”
Luke fell silent. He did not feel inclined to admit his failings to Deliverance Felton. As well as an unfortunate habit of speaking his mind when he should keep a still tongue in his head, wine, women and a taste for cards would not sit well with her puritan upbringing. That is, if she ha
d such an upbringing. Despite her name, she certainly didn't behave like any puritan he knew.
“I think they call it a lack of proper respect,” he said.
Deliverance looked straight ahead and he thought he could detect the hint of a smile playing around her lips. “Lack of respect? Really? You surprise me, Captain.”
Luke returned her smile. He sensed that she had begun to trust him and that thought gave him more confidence about facing the days ahead. He glanced at her. Away from the castle and her responsibilities she seemed more relaxed and it surprised him to find that the formidable Mistress Felton did have a sense of humour. He liked it when she smiled. It transformed her face. The hard line of her mouth softened and the perpetual crease between her brows smoothed and the large, luminous grey eyes sparkled. A man could drown in those eyes, he thought. He would set himself the challenge of forcing her to smile more often. He liked a challenge.
Chapter 4
What are you doing?” Penitence asked.
Deliverance readjusted her position on the north wall, squinting at the distant woods.
“We're being watched,” she said. “There's a man on a horse just inside the tree line.” She pointed at the woods. “See the large oak?”
Penitence leaned forward on the ramparts, looking in the direction Deliverance indicated. “Oh yes, I see him,” she said. “One of Farrington's men?”
“Most likely,” Deliverance replied.
“Hadn't you better tell Captain Collyer?”
“I suppose so.”
“Speaking of Captain Collyer, where is he?” Penitence asked.
Deliverance waved a hand in the direction of the west wall. “Oh, he's over there, supervising the men on the earthworks. I suppose I should go and find him.”
The two women walked the length of the curtain wall, emerging from the Hawk Tower. As Deliverance looked along the battlements, she realised that quite an audience had gathered. In fact every maid in the castle seemed to be leaning over the stonework, laughing and jesting with the men below.
Her Rebel Heart: A romance of the English Civil War Page 3