The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride Read online

Page 13


  ‘Captain Colby was a gentleman, John. I was quite safe with him, for he was honourable and would not take advantage of the situation. Indeed, I think him not so different from you. There are things that happened in the Star Chamber. I do not think Father would have approved...’

  ‘He would have been loyal to the King no matter what,’ John said. ‘It is not for us to question what his Majesty chooses to do—I dare say he has his reasons for all he does.’

  Babette saw the doubts in his eyes. ‘What troubles you, Brother? I know there is something, though you love the King well.’

  ‘Stafford’s impeachment. He was a good, loyal man and Father’s friend. I did not like that he was made a scapegoat. But that does not mean I will accept criticism of the King’s decisions. Those rogues in Parliament forced him to it. I am certain he has regretted that he allowed them to dictate to him.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say he was forced into an act he did not like,’ she agreed. ‘Perhaps it was that that caused him to set up his standard and begin this war. I am for his Majesty, as you are, John—but I think you might like Captain Colby if you knew him.’

  ‘Perhaps I might if we met at a different time,’ John agreed. ‘But you are not thinking of anything more than a fleeting acquaintance, I hope? Father should have arranged your marriage a year since, but now I am here there will be friends I can bring to your attention, men you will like as much as that rebel captain.’

  Babette did not think it likely, for he had touched her heart as no other ever had, but she would not argue with her brother. Frowning, she said, ‘As long as they are not like Captain Richards.’

  ‘What has he done to distress you?’

  ‘I dislike the way he looks at me—and he forcibly seduced one of my maids. I was away and she did not dare accuse him to the Earl, so she ran away.’

  ‘How do you know this is true? She might have encouraged him.’

  ‘Molly was not like that,’ she said and saw his frown darken. ‘She was a happy, friendly girl, but she did not set her cap at any—though I think her family expected her to marry a yeoman farmer in time.’

  ‘You are right. Molly was not that kind of girl,’ John agreed. ‘If I knew for sure that he had forced her, I should not tolerate him here.’

  ‘Believe me, it is true even though I have no proof,’ Babette said. ‘He is a bragging bully and he makes me feel uncomfortable. I have seen him look at me in such a way—if he had the chance...’

  ‘He would not dare lay a finger on you!’

  ‘No, but I have seen him look at me as if it is in his mind.’

  ‘I will see if I can have him sent on a mission for his Majesty,’ John said. ‘Carlton favours him, but if I make it seem a mark of esteem mayhap he will agree to it.’

  ‘We should go on much better without him. You saw his men flee from the rebel troop and yet he bragged that they were winning until set upon by a much larger force.’

  ‘A coward and a bully.’ John looked angry. ‘He is not the only one to be met with in his Majesty’s army. Were he in Rupert’s troop he would soon learn the error of his ways—but it is not easy to get rid of these braggarts. They swagger and boast and most believe them.’

  ‘Do nothing that would bring harm to you,’ she said. ‘But if you could find a way to send him from the castle I should be grateful.’

  John smiled at her and nodded. ‘I shall try to arrange it,’ he promised, ‘and do not worry. I would have you stay here with Alice until she has given birth, but I shall not forget you, Babs. A marriage shall be arranged for you.’

  ‘Do not let it concern you yet. I am in no hurry and I think Alice needs me until you can be with her. She was fretting for you and that brought on her headaches. Now that I have given her something for the sickness she should be better, but I would not leave her here alone.’

  ‘You are thoughtful,’ her brother said, and she turned away, not wanting him to know that she did not wish him to arrange a marriage with one of his friends. In time, perhaps, she would wish for a husband and a home of her own, but for the moment there was only one man in her mind.

  She wondered where Captain Colby was and what he had done after he left her. How long would it be before they met again? With this terrible civil war inflaming the country, it might be months or years before he was free to come to her. She felt a wave of despair flow over her, but then raised her head defiantly.

  She would devote herself to making Alice comfortable and ease her through the pain of childbed, and she would care for her servants and the sick in the village as she’d always done. Perhaps one day she would find happiness, but until that day arrived she must do whatever her friends and family asked of her.

  Chapter Eight

  Was she still at the castle? Was she well—was she happy? The thoughts of Babette chased through James’s mind as he looked out of the window. They were in a manor house belonging to Lord Manchester for a conference before the spring and summer campaign began. The winter had been spent mostly in training and moulding the men into a force of determined fighting men, but they would be on the move again as soon as there was news that King Charles had left Oxford, where he had spent most of the year.

  ‘The King must be brought to battle,’ Cromwell said. ‘Our men are ready to fight and a skirmish here or there is nothing. We need a decisive battle that will turn the tide of the conflict.’

  ‘How can we force him to fight if he insists on staying put?’ Lord Manchester said, sprawling in his chair, a cup of wine to hand. ‘While he continues to evade us he has the upper hand.’

  ‘We must attack Royalist strongholds,’ Cromwell said. ‘Lay siege to them—rout out these smug men who laugh at us from the safety of their castles.’

  ‘I cannot see what good it would do unless the King happened to be in the castle,’ Manchester said in a bored tone. ‘No, we must wait until the appointed time and meet as gentlemen on the field of battle—and now I wish you goodnight.’

  ‘That fool...’ Cromwell muttered as the stout lord heaved himself from his chair and went out. ‘What do you think, Colby? I see no point in petty skirmishes with no outcome or point to victory. I have trained my men and they are ready for battle. If I were in command...’

  ‘You should have the overall command of the army. Lord Manchester’s heart is only half in it. Essex is a brilliant general, but I think if his Majesty would come halfway to meet him he would go back to the old way and forget all that we have strived for.’

  ‘Over my dead body.’ Cromwell sighed. ‘He is not the only one, James. Sometimes I think I waste my time and would have done better to take ship for the New World.’

  ‘If you did that, we should surely lose the war,’ James said. ‘I wish that it had never come to this, but it has and I believe you may be right to think we must harry them, lay siege to their strongholds and make the King come to battle. We need a decisive win if we are to finish this conflict and bring Charles Stuart to his senses.’

  ‘Yes.’ Cromwell nodded. ‘I have men ready to fight as and where I direct. We have called ourselves the Ironsides and I think the Royalists will not find it so easy to beat us as formerly. I believe I shall begin the attacks and see where it leads. You were recommended to me because of your successful foraging—will you join me? I need a resourceful man like you.’

  ‘Yes, sir, gladly,’ James said, for he admired this man with his stern looks and plain speaking. ‘I believe the Royalists are strongest in the south, but I do not know what you had in mind.’

  ‘We shall make our move before the summer is out,’ Cromwell promised. ‘I shall not tolerate another winter of stalemate. I want a decisive battle.’

  James nodded. He said goodnight to his commander and retired to his own quarters. Was it almost a year since he had seen Mistress Babette? The time between had been spent at firs
t in battles up and down the country—some of them important, others merely skirmishes—and then relentless training in the colder months. Now it was spring again and Cromwell was impatient to be on the move.

  James had not forgot the sweet lady with the bold eyes who had saved his life, but it had been impossible to find an opportunity to see her. He had written to her several times, but had no way of getting his letters to her. Any courier he sent to the castle would have been seen as a spy and a letter from him might have caused her to be named a traitor. At times he despaired of ever seeing her again—and the hopes he’d had of a marriage between them seemed no more than dust blowing in the wind.

  The war seemed to drag on and went nowhere. The King had won several battles, but then a setback had sent him scurrying to Oxford, where he’d spent much of his time since. Essex had won his share of the conflicts, but it was as Cromwell said: a stalemate with neither side scoring a decisive victory. They must unsettle the Royalists somehow and perhaps attacking their manors and homes would bring them to battle. Prince Rupert had taken Bristol and was holding the crucial port. The city must be put under siege, which would tie up a portion of their forces, but while the Royalists held such an important access to the sea they were too well supplied.

  James groaned with frustration. Would this war never be over? Would he ever be free to go in search of the woman whose eyes haunted him?

  And did she ever think of him?

  * * *

  She was alone in the mist and something in the thick blanket of fog was so menacing that it terrified her. She knew that if she did not run away whatever was there would come and seize her. Crying a name out loud, she sat up with a start and opened her eyes.

  She was in her room at the castle and it was in darkness. There was no mist, nothing menacing her—only the loneliness she had felt more and more as the months passed.

  ‘James, where are you?’ she whispered in the darkness, and a tear trickled down her cheek. She had thought of the gallant captain who had escorted her home so often through the lonely winter. Now it was spring again and the months went by so slowly, for there was no sign of the war ending—no reason to think that she would ever see him again. ‘You promised...you promised to return.’

  Dashing the tears from her cheeks, Babette got out of bed and pulled on a warm wrapping gown. There was no point in crying for something she could not have. She had chosen duty and, if her duty seemed hard at times, Alice ungrateful and her life unrewarding, she had only herself to blame.

  She had hoped that a letter might come, but she knew it would be almost impossible for James to contact her—and yet she’d looked for a letter and been disappointed so many times.

  ‘When shall I see you again?’ she asked, but no answer came.

  Standing to look down at the courtyard as the first rosy fingers of dawn appeared, she felt her loneliness wash over her. The castle was not truly her home now, for it belonged to John and Alice was his wife. She made use of Babette when she needed her, but made it clear that she was the chatelaine here. When John returned from the war, it would be time for Babette to leave—but that meant she must marry, for a woman of her class had no other choice.

  Unless James came for her, she would be forced to wed a man of her brother’s choice.

  No, she would not wed a man she could not love. Closing her eyes, she remembered the scent of James Colby and that ride through the woods when he held her. She recalled the touch of his hands and the way he had looked at her, and her body ached with need. She longed to be in his arms to be kissed and... Her cheeks burned as she became aware of her wanton thoughts.

  She must put such thoughts away, for it was not seemly—and yet she burned for his touch and thought of him every night before she slept.

  ‘You are so lucky, Alice,’ Babette said, looking down at the chubby boy lying in his cradle. His legs had been released from the swaddling that had been imposed on him for the first few months of his life and he kicked out with glee, clearly loving his new freedom. ‘He is a lovely child.’

  ‘Yes, he is beautiful,’ Alice said. ‘John was so proud of him when he visited last month.’ She sighed deeply. ‘When will this awful war be over, Babs? I want John to come home to us. I know he has been lucky so far, but for how long can it continue? I am so tired of being cooped up here in this wretched place—it is almost like being in prison. If John is killed, I shall not bear it.’

  ‘You must not let your fears cloud your mind,’ Babette said. ‘Until the war ends none of us can be certain what will happen...but at least John visits as often as he can.’

  ‘Why must he volunteer for these dangerous missions when he could stay safe within the castle?’

  ‘We may not be safe here for much longer,’ Babette said. ‘The Earl of Carlton told us that several stout manor houses have fallen of late and towns and castles are vulnerable to these attacks. They say Cromwell’s new force is the most powerful army yet seen in this country.’

  ‘Do not say so,’ Alice said and shivered, looking down at her child. ‘They say the Puritans stick babies on their pikes.’

  ‘You had that from Captain Richards,’ Babette said and frowned. Her brother had succeeded in sending the captain away, but he had returned recently, bearing a message from his Majesty. ‘I should not take too much notice of what he says, Alice. I do not think the rebels are such evil brutes. In battle men die, but I doubt very much that the rebels would kill innocent babies in the way he described.’

  ‘Captain Richards would not lie to me,’ Alice said and smirked. ‘He is always so gallant, and he talks to me of the court—’ She broke off as they heard the roar of cannon, looking at one another in fright. ‘What is that?’

  ‘I do not know.’ Babette went to the small window to look down at the courtyard below. Men were running back and forth and shouting. It was a scene of total chaos and she knew that her worst fears had come to pass. The castle was under siege. ‘I think we are being attacked.’

  Alice gave a little scream. She snatched up her baby and held him to her breast, a look of fear in her eyes.

  ‘They will kill us all!’

  ‘They have to break down our defences first,’ Babette said, but felt a spasm of nerves in her stomach. ‘Do not lose all hope yet, Alice. When John hears he will bring a force to relieve us—as they have at other houses and cities.’

  ‘God pray that he comes in time,’ Alice said. Her eyes were dark with fear, which Babette knew was as much for her child as herself. ‘What will they do to us if...?’

  Babette put an arm about her, trying to comfort her. She, too, was anxious, because she had thought the Roundheads, as they were now often called because of the peculiar-shaped helmets they had taken to wearing, would not bother with a castle that was of little strategic value. It was understandable that the important port of Bristol should be fought over, as were several important cities, but she had hoped Cromwell’s men would pass them by.

  ‘I shall go to the Earl,’ she said. ‘He will know whether the castle may be defended and for how long.’

  Leaving Alice to nurse her child, Babette went down to the Great Hall. Here there were signs of chaos as the servants ran hither and thither like headless chickens. No one seemed to know what was happening and it was obvious that no one was in command. Since there was no sign of the Earl, she went out into the courtyard. Her steward was directing men to fill buckets of water. As she saw the ball of flaming pitch fly over the wall into a stack of straw, she understood the meaning of his actions. She went up to him.

  ‘Forgive me, but Lady Alice is frightened for her child. Where is the Earl? Can the castle stand such an attack?’

  ‘You should not be out here,’ Martin said. ‘You could be injured, my lady. Please go back inside.’

  ‘Where is the Earl?’

  Martin pointed up to the battleme
nts. ‘He is directing our defence himself, my lady.’

  Babette looked. She could plainly see the Earl directing the efforts of his men and encouraging them to stand firm in the face of this determined assault. Surely he should have left this to his captains? She frowned, for the Earl was in charge here and without him... Even as the thought crossed her mind, she heard the roar of cannon and a hole was blown in the castle wall just below where the Earl was standing. The shock blew him and the men nearest to him off their feet and masonry came falling down on them.

  ‘The Earl is wounded...’ the cry went up, and as Babette watched some men picked him up and brought him down the narrow stone steps to the courtyard where she stood. She saw that he was badly hurt, blood pouring from a chest injury and another to his head.

  ‘Bring him to his chamber,’ she commanded. ‘I shall do what I can for him, but he may not survive.’

  Why, why had he been so foolish? He was a brave man, but now the castle was in the command of the most senior captain and that was Captain Richards. Babette went quickly ahead to the Earl’s chamber, where she threw back the covers and instructed that he be placed down gently. Bending over him, she looked and saw that he was still conscious, though in great pain.

  ‘You cannot save me, Mistress Babette,’ he told her in a rasping voice. ‘Without me, the castle may fall. You and Lady Alice must take the child and go through the secret passage. It leads from my chamber and ends in the church in the village. Go quickly, for I fear if you wait it may be too late. The enemy are too strong and help may not come in time.’