The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride Read online

  Melchet must know that he had nothing to do with it. He had not even been there when she took ill, though he had hastened to her side.

  James frowned. He had never understood how she caught such a terrible fever, but when he held her in his arms that fateful day it had seemed to him that all the life had gone out of her...that she had wanted to die.

  No, that was nonsense! She was soon to be married and he knew she loved him for all her shyness and her hesitancy.

  Something or someone had distressed her so much that...

  James shook his head. He would not let Jane’s death torture him again. He had healed slowly, but it had taken a girl with bold eyes to bring him back from that cold place and teach him to live again.

  God, how he wished she was here. He toyed with the idea of going back to the castle, of demanding that her brother listen to him. He should never have let her go.

  The sound of a pistol shot brought him from his reverie. If he were not mistaken, that sound came from where his men waited for him.

  Spurring his horse onwards, he rode towards the sounds of firing and saw that his men were being attacked by a force of perhaps seven Royalist soldiers. Drawing his sword, he let out a fearsome battle cry and rode straight at them. Whether they thought he was but one of another troop he did not know, but at the sight of him they looked at one another, turned tail and fled towards the woods.

  His men fired after them, but the skirmish had been short and ended abruptly due to his timely arrival.

  ‘Thank goodness you came,’ his friend Simeon greeted him with a cheerful grin. ‘For a moment there I thought they had the better of us.’

  ‘What? There were but seven of them and five of you,’ James said and laughed. ‘However, I do not think we will stay around to discover if they return with more of their friends. On this occasion I think that discretion is the better part of valour.’

  * * *

  Hearing shots exchanged, John reined in and motioned Drew to do the same. His friend was bent almost double over his horse, so weary that he could not go much farther. John cursed the delay, for he knew that they must reach the castle and the safety of its walls before Drew collapsed. He wished that he had brought a wagon rather than allowing his proud friend to ride, as he’d insisted on doing. Looking at his strained face, he could see that he was at the end of his strength.

  As they drew back into the trees, John saw a party of men he knew by their dress were Royalist soldiers—a private troop if he guessed right, undisciplined and led by their lord, who had no idea how to fight. If the fool had spotted a troop of rebels, he should have sent for reinforcements and surrounded them rather than attack with too few men.

  Watching them scatter as they rode in what looked to him like a panic, John’s mouth twisted. If they were an indication of what to expect from the men loyal to his Majesty, the rebels would win the war. His opinion was confirmed when he saw a smaller band of Parliament soldiers follow and then turn in a different direction.

  He frowned as he thought he recognised one or two of them. They were wearing buff coats and wore a yellow band across their chests. He was certain now that they were some of the men he’d seen near his uncle’s house. What had brought them this far south? Parliament’s strongholds were mostly in the north...unless things had changed while he’d been away.

  He waited until they disappeared from view, then, glancing anxiously at his friend, reached over and took hold of the leading rein. Drew had not wanted it, but it had helped several times when he’d been in danger of losing his grip on the reins.

  ‘Not far to go now, Drew,’ he said. ‘It’s a comfortable bed for you this night—you’ll be safe when we reach the castle.’

  John wished that he’d told his sister to come with them. He’d told her to stay with their uncle because he thought it might be too dangerous for her to accompany them, but he could have done with her skills on the journey. Drew’s wound had opened again and he’d had the devil of a job stopping it. The man had lost so much blood it was a wonder he could stay upright.

  Thank God the castle was no more than a mile away. John would be glad to be home and to see Alice again. He hoped she would be feeling better than she had when he left her. She’d wept and clung to him then, making him feel bad about leaving her. The sooner he could bring his sister back the better.

  * * *

  Babette had left Alice to rest while she went to her chamber to change her gown, which was creased and stained from the journey. She would feel much better when she’d had a chance to eat something and a cup of wine would be pleasing—the sweet French wine her father had bought specially for her.

  It was as she went down to the Great Hall once more that she heard the commotion and then several men entered at once. They were shouting and calling for wine and she realised that they were some of the Earl’s men. It seemed they’d had a skirmish with some rebels and were talking of the fight with relish.

  ‘We should have had them had their reinforcements not arrived,’ said one man with a loud voice. He was laughing as he turned and saw Babette and his eyes narrowed. He swept off his hat and bowed to her. ‘If it isn’t Mistress Babette... Welcome home, my lady.’

  Babette did not smile. Captain Richards was not a man she cared for, because she did not like the way his eyes seemed to strip her of her clothes. He had made several advances towards her in the past, which she had rejected as politely as she could. He was in truth one of the reasons that she had written to her aunt and begged to be allowed to stay.

  ‘Thank you, Captain,’ she said. ‘Did you say you had an encounter with the enemy?’ Her heart was beating wildly for she knew it was likely that it had been Captain Colby and his men.

  ‘Aye, that we did. We had them surrounded and would have made short work of them, had a large reinforcement not arrived and charged us. We rode away, for we were not prepared for a large battle.’

  Were there other rebel forces in the district? Babette thought there must be, for there had been only six of them and she had counted seven men in the hall.

  She hesitated, wanting to ask if any had been killed in the skirmish, but just as she sought a way to frame her question, Martin came up to her, touching her arm discreetly.

  ‘Mistress Babette, your brother has arrived. His friend is ill and needs your services. Will you come now or later?’

  ‘I shall come now,’ Babette said. Her supper could wait until later and she did not wish for more of Captain Richard’s company. ‘Where is the Earl?’

  ‘He is away for a few days. He was called to the King and left the castle in the charge of Captain Richards—though now my lord is home things will change—for the better, I trust.’

  Babette guessed from his expression that he cared no more for the Royalist captain than she did. She nodded her head and went with him, following him towards her brother’s private chambers. John would want Drew close until he was able to fend for himself again.

  ‘Does my brother know I am here?’

  ‘He was surprised at the news, but thanked God for it, as we all do who know and love you, mistress.’

  Babette smiled at him and hurried in his footsteps. She must see what ailed Drew Melbourne before she went to her still room. John had told her he was on the mend, but it sounded as if the journey had exhausted him. What she hoped was that his wound had not opened again, for he had already lost too much blood.

  * * *

  ‘Well?’ John asked as she bent over his friend. ‘What do you think, Babs—can you help him?’

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ she replied. ‘This wound has not healed as it ought. I fear it must be cauterised. It will hurt him and he may fight us—but you must hold him while I apply the iron.’

  ‘The iron is a fearful thing,’ John said. ‘Are you sure you can do it?’

  ‘If you and
Martin hold him down,’ she said. ‘It needs a steady hand—and I would not be strong enough to keep him still when the iron burns. He will scream and rear up, but you must hold him while the heat does its work or he could bleed to death.’

  ‘Thank God you were here,’ her brother said fervently. ‘I wished for you on the journey, but thought it unsafe. Did you travel here with only Jonas for escort?’

  ‘No, I had an escort to protect me,’ she said. ‘I shall tell you later. I must concentrate on Drew now. This bleeding must be stopped.’

  He nodded wordlessly. The red-hot iron was brought. He and Martin held Drew down to the bed, and Babette applied the iron. The stink of burning flesh, his screams and his pain almost unnerved her, but she held it to the putrid flesh for long enough to burn away the infection and stop the slow, persistent drip of blood and pus. When she withdrew it and passed it to the servant, who had turned aside while she did her work, her stomach was heaving and she felt faint and sick.

  ‘You are as white as a sheet,’ Martin said. ‘Sit down, my lady.’

  ‘I am merely faint from lack of food,’ she said with a weary smile. ‘I have had a long journey and I made a tisane for Alice before this... I must apply the healing salve to take away some of the pain and then I can eat and drink.’

  ‘I can do that, mistress,’ Martin said and took the pot from her. ‘Go down to the hall and ask for food.’

  ‘I shall go to my chamber.’ She turned to the servant, who had placed the cooling iron in the hearth. ‘Please ask Molly to bring food and wine to my chamber.’

  He looked at her awkwardly. ‘Molly isn’t here, mistress. Shall I ask Maigret?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she said, wondering what had happened to her favourite maidservant but too tired to ask.

  ‘Thank you,’ John said. ‘Rest now, Babs. I must go to Alice now—but I shall see you in the morning.’

  Babette inclined her head, but did not look at him. She was so weary that she was not sure she had the strength to eat, except that her stomach was complaining and she felt faint from lack of food.

  * * *

  In the morning Babette felt much recovered. She rose and washed in the water Maigret had brought for her. The girl was helpful and clean in her habits, and Babette thanked her for her service. Just as she was turning away, she recalled that she’d wanted to know about Molly.

  ‘Where is Molly?’ she asked. ‘Has she gone home? I thought she was happy here?’

  ‘She be happy enough ’til...’ Maigret glanced over her shoulder nervously. ‘Best I do not say, mistress.’

  ‘You may tell me and no harm will come to you. Did someone upset her?’

  ‘’Twas more than upset...’ Maigret said and her cheeks went red. ‘She told me he forced her, mistress—had her in the shadows as she went about her business. When she threatened to complain to the Earl, he said he would kill her...and so she ran away.’

  Her maidservant had been abused by a man and threatened with death to keep his secret! Babette was horrified. Who could have done such a thing? Her father had always been strict about the treatment of the maids and, had he been here, he would have punished the man severely.

  ‘Was it one of the servants?’ she asked, then, seeing the fear in the girl’s eyes, ‘I shall not tell anyone that you told me—but I must know in case it happens again.’

  ‘It be...Captain Richards. But he would deny it, mistress. He would kill me if he knew I’d told you. Molly dared not say so she ran away.’

  ‘Poor Molly. Had I been here I should have helped her somehow.’ She nodded, feeling angry and disgusted. She might have known who had so ill treated the maidservant. The way Captain Richards looked at her told her that he would like to treat her in the same way if he dared. ‘You may go now, Maigret—and do not worry, he shall not learn of this from me.’

  Babette was thoughtful as the girl left her. She knew that she could not go to the Earl, for she had no proof. Captain Richards would deny the charge and without Molly’s testimony there was little she could do but bide her time. If she complained to the Earl, he might not listen. She knew he liked the young man, who was always jesting and telling stories in company. Even if the Earl did believe that the girl had been seduced, he would think her willing. He would say that Molly had invited the captain to flirt with her and, if she got more than she expected, it was her own fault. After all, she was merely a servant.

  Babette knew that many men did not respect women as they ought; they might be forced to behave decently with a woman of their own class, but servants or country girls were fair game to some. It made her angry that there was little she could do except bide her time. If he made a mistake, did something that angered the Earl or stepped too far over the line, perhaps she could have him dismissed, but she did not have much hope of it unless his crime was one the Earl would think worthy of such punishment.

  At least John was here now. Babette could tell him what she knew. He might not be able to reprimand Richards, because he served the Earl and not Lord Harvey—but perhaps a private word might do more good.

  Leaving her chamber, Babette went down into the hall, crossed it to the far tower and climbed the stone steps to the large chamber where her brother kept his private papers and treasure. He had given his bed there to Drew, sleeping next door in his wife’s chamber while his sick friend needed the privacy.

  Entering, she saw that Drew was alone, propped up against some pillows and looking pale, but fully conscious.

  ‘I hope your shoulder does not pain you too much, sir?’

  ‘It hurts like hell, but I am in your debt, mistress. John told me that I was losing blood again and like to die before you treated me. You have great strength of purpose. I do not think Beth could have done what you did, much as she loves me.’

  ‘Is Beth your wife?’

  ‘She will be when I return to court, if I can persuade her father to let us wed,’ he said and smiled. ‘We have loved each other for a while, but my father hoped for other things. I could not wed her until... He died recently and I no longer feel bound by what he would have agreed. But her father has taken against me, perhaps because I delayed.’

  Babette looked at him steadily. ‘You need feel no awkwardness as far as I am concerned, sir. I know our fathers sought to make a match between us—but I do not expect or wish for it.’

  Drew looked relieved. ‘Thank you, mistress, that is most generous. I confess I did feel awkward when I knew how much you had done for me. My father encouraged yours to think I would agree to the match. I did not elope with Beth, for she would not...but she is the woman I love and I shall wed no other.’

  ‘Then you should wed her as soon as you are able,’ Babette said and smiled at him. ‘You owe me nothing—and especially not marriage. Besides, there is someone I like well.’

  ‘Then I am happy to hear it,’ he said. ‘But if there is ever anything I can do for you, you have only to ask. I am in your debt, though you deny it.’

  Babette shook her head. She had done only what she would do for any man in desperate need. Drew was her brother’s friend and she was glad to have helped him.

  ‘For the moment I lack for nothing,’ she said and then frowned. Perhaps if she asked Drew to help in the matter of Captain Richards he might do so, but even as she considered the door opened and her brother entered.

  ‘Good morning, Sister. I trust you are feeling better?’

  ‘I was merely tired and hungry last night,’ she replied. ‘I am quite well, thank you.’

  ‘Alice tells me how much you have helped her. She is more like herself again—and so glad to have your company.’

  ‘I shall go to her when I have changed this dressing.’

  ‘I can do that,’ John said. ‘It was a miracle you got here—who did you say escorted you?’

  ‘Our uncle’s
cousin,’ Babette said. ‘He was ready to leave and—and Uncle Matthew did not want me in the house. He accused me of witchcraft because I dug a ball from a man’s shoulder and bound him so that he did not bleed to death.’

  ‘Good grief! What kind of a man is he? What would he have had you do—leave the poor devil to bleed to death?’

  ‘Perhaps. He would have sent for the doctor, but you may recall that Mother did not trust physicians. She said they killed more than they cured through infection. However, I think my uncle an honest man, but with strange fears,’ Babette replied. ‘It does not matter. I am here now and all is well.’

  ‘Yes...’ John frowned at her, and she knew he had guessed that the man who had escorted her home was the rebel captain who had been wounded. ‘Go to Alice now, Babs. We shall speak of this again.’

  He did not want to accuse her in front of Drew Melbourne. Babette was glad to escape, even though she knew the reckoning would come later.

  * * *

  ‘A Puritan, Babs?’ John looked at her half in anger and half in bewilderment. ‘I should not have thought you would put your trust in such a man.’

  ‘He was not a Puritan,’ she said, her cheeks warm as she faced him proudly. ‘I thought him honest—a man of principle and beliefs, to which he held true. He argues that the King imposed unfair taxes. I do not say that I share his views, but he was a generous, courteous man. Had he not offered his escort I should have had to make my own way, for Uncle Matthew would not have me in his house another day.’

  ‘Curse the man!’ John said, his face like thunder. ‘How dared he treat you so? I swear that I shall make him pay for this one day, Babs. To treat you so scurvily—and after you had saved his cousin’s life!’

  ‘He was unfair. Aunt Minnie did not like it, but there was naught she could do—she is afraid of him. Angelina cried. She wanted to come to me, but he would never let her.’

  ‘A plague on his house,’ John said. ‘The man is a superstitious fool. To say such things of our mother...it is a good thing you left.’ He nodded. ‘I thought I saw Colby when we approached the castle. He and his men sent some Royalists flying, though they were the larger troop. If all our enemies were like him...’ He shook his head. ‘Rupert complains that some of our troops are ill disciplined and inclined to flee at the slightest setback. I fear he may be right. They have enthusiasm in plenty, but no discipline.’ He was thoughtful for a moment, his expression sombre. ‘Very well, I shall not scold you, but I do not like the thought of you being at that rebel’s mercy.’