The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride Page 15
Alice inclined her head, clearly impressed with the captain’s open manners. ‘Then I thank you, sir. I do not like this war and wish it were over. We shall accept your safe passage and thank you kindly for it.’
‘Then come out from the trees and we shall be on our way. I know that there is a band of renegades in the area—they fight for no cause but their own and should be hung. I was anxious in case they might discover you before we could and was afraid for your safety—but they will not harm you now.’
Babette led her horse forward. James put his hands about her waist and lifted her to the saddle. She felt herself tremble and knew it was not from fear. His nearness was making her wild with joy. She longed to be alone with him, to be held in his arms and kissed—and she knew that if he asked her again she would not refuse to be his wife.
The months apart had been long and lonely. Babette did not wish to be parted from him again—at least she did not wish to do so without an understanding that they would marry as soon as it was possible. She could only hope that the months had not changed him and that he cared for her as she did for him—but her heart sang as she looked into his face. He had set out in search of her as soon as he knew she was in danger. He must care for her a little...surely he did?
Chapter Nine
They travelled for the rest of that day, Babette feeling happier than she had for many months. Alice looked at her oddly from time to time, and she sensed that her sister-in-law felt uncomfortable at travelling with someone she thought of as an enemy, even though she had been glad to accept their escort. Alice would have much preferred to travel with a Royalist party, and Babette guessed that she regretted escaping through the passage. Had they waited they might have had their own men about them—and Babette sensed that Alice liked the boastful but charming Captain Richards. Babette herself was comfortable and happy to be with men she trusted, but Alice looked on edge.
‘Do not be anxious, dearest,’ she whispered to her brother’s wife. ‘We are as safe with these gentlemen as we should be with a Royalist troop.’
Alice nodded, but the doubts were in her eyes. ‘You seem so comfortable with them, Babs—may I ask what this man is to you?’
Babette drew a deep breath, then, ‘If he asks me, I shall wed him. I have had nothing but kindness at his hands and...I love him.’
‘Have you told him?’
Babette shook her head, a faint flush in her cheeks. ‘I shall do so when he speaks. He asked once, but I turned him down, because my duty was to you and my brother. But when we reach Brevington you will be safe and perhaps—’
‘You would not leave us?’ Alice looked at her in alarm. ‘Please promise me that you will not desert us—at least until the war is over and John comes home.’
Alice was asking her to put aside her own hopes of happiness for her sake. She was not sure that she could oblige her this time. The past year had been so long and lonely, with no word from the man she loved—and she did love him with all her heart. She had known it the moment they met again, had known it in her heart for many months.
‘I am not sure,’ she said. ‘If Captain Colby speaks to me, I shall ask him what his intentions are. Perhaps an understanding will be enough, but it must be for him to decide.’
Alice turned her face away, and Babette knew that she was angry. She had become accustomed to leaning on Babette and she would be forced to order her servants and care for her child alone if she were to leave. The prospect did not please her. For a moment Babette felt that she was being torn apart by her loyalty to one and her love for the other—but she had given a year of her life to Alice and she could not know if her chance of happiness would come again. Alice needed her, but she did not always show affection when they were together.
Babette spurred her horse to ride at Captain Colby’s side. ‘Where do you go when you have seen us safe at Brevington, sir?’
‘To my own manor of Colby,’ he replied and his eyes were soft as they dwelled on her face. ‘I hope you will see it for yourself one day, mistress.’
‘I should like to see it very much,’ she said, her eyes meeting his bravely, though she trembled inwardly. ‘Very much.’
His look intensified, his eyes smoky with an emotion she could not determine. ‘Can it be... Have you changed your mind, Babs? The question I asked you before. If I were to ask you again...?’
Now her cheeks felt as if they burned. She sent a shy smile winging his way and dipped her head, willing him to understand. ‘I found these past months hard to bear with no news.’
‘I wrote many letters,’ he said, ‘but there was no way to make sure they were delivered to you. Had I sent a messenger I doubt he would have been permitted through the gates—and you might have been thought a traitor by some.’
‘I did not write to you, but I sent you messages in my thoughts.’
Were her eyes saying all the words she dared not say? Perhaps they were, for his smile deepened, caressing her, giving her cause to hope.
‘The war goes on,’ he said, ‘but I would have an understanding with you, Babs. You are the lady I honour above all others and I would have you to wife—even if I have to wait until the end of the war to claim you.’
‘Perhaps we need—’ She’d been about to say they need not wait, when a shout from one of his men alerted him. A scout had reported seeing a large party of soldiers ahead, but they were not certain on whose side they fought.
‘I do not know the banner, sir. I think it may be a local trained band, but whether it be for the King or Parliament I do not know.’
‘We shall go across the fields and avoid them,’ James said and frowned. ‘Forgive me, ladies, but I would avoid these men. If their colours are unknown, they could be renegades, which means they have no allegiance to anyone but themselves. Normally, I would meet and try to capture them if that is the case, but I cannot take the risk. We must divert and avoid them for your sakes.’
Alice gave a cry of alarm, clinging to her child as the wagon was turned off the road into a field and driven at speed across a surface that was even more rutted and bumpy than the road they had been traversing. Babette turned back and went to reassure her.
‘Do not worry, dearest, we shall avoid them. Captain Colby would not allow harm to come to us—and if they should catch up to us he will drive them off.’
‘But they could be our friends...’ She looked sulky and annoyed at being jostled in such a way.
‘They do not wear known colours, which means they are probably renegades. John told you how much trouble they have caused up and down the country, raiding small villages and empty homes.’
Babette frowned as she spoke. Her brother’s manor was another day’s ride and she could only pray that it had not fallen to one of the renegade bands that were currently roaming the country and robbing villagers and homes.
At the beginning of the war, Babette knew that many people had tried to remain neutral. Her uncle had not been the only one who refused to fight, but over the two years the conflict had spread so that now almost every man was either for the King or Parliament. In all the chaos, as neighbours, cousins and brothers took against each other, sometimes ignoring lifelong friendships, ruthless men seized the chance to make profit for themselves from the misery of others.
She saw that Alice was unconvinced and continued to glance over her shoulder, as though she hoped a troop of Royalists would chase after them and snatch her from the clutches of the Roundheads. Babette bit her lip. Her choice of a husband was bound to split her family, for she doubted that Alice—and perhaps even John—would forgive her. It was a stark choice, but she already knew what she must do. It would break her heart to part from James again. Alice would be safe and cared for at Brevington. She must go with James if he asked her.
There, she had thought of him as James, proof that her choice was made. She would contin
ue to speak of him as Captain Colby to others, but he would be James in her heart and mind.
* * *
It had been a long, wearisome journey. Babette sighed with relief when she saw the village of Brevington. Now they had only a few leagues to reach her brother’s manor, which lay just beyond the village.
‘Thank goodness we are nearly there,’ Alice said as she spoke to her. ‘I do not know how much more I can bear...jolted through fields and in the company of such men...’ A shudder went through her. ‘Thank goodness they will soon leave us in peace.’
Alice was so ungrateful and determined in her dislike. Babette had received only politeness and respect at the hands of James’s men and she knew it had been the same for Maigret and Alice. The maid had seemed happy enough, even flirting a little with one of the men-at-arms, but Alice had worn a sour expression, grumbling at Babette every chance she got. She was heartily sick of hearing her moan at every inconvenience and had reminded her sharply that they were lucky to have escaped with their lives. To which Alice had countered that, had they waited, they might have travelled with friends.
Babette could hardly restrain her temper, but because she hoped to avoid a breach between them she kept her thoughts to herself. Alice could not be contented to know that she’d been given safe passage to her new home and there was no reasoning with her.
Babette wondered what would happen when they reached the house. Would James leave her with a promise to return as soon as the war was done, or would he take her with him to his home—would he wed her without her brother’s consent? She was of an age to marry and surely she could choose for herself and not be dictated to by her brother in this matter?
As they entered the grounds of the manor, Babette caught the stink of smoke or soot. She wrinkled her nose, her heart catching in her breast. There was no sign of smoke in the sky, but... As they came in sight of the house, she felt the pain catch at her breast. John’s beautiful house...half of it still stood, but the walls were blackened and the roof had gone. Hearing a wail from Alice, she turned in time to see her scramble down from the cart and go running towards the house. She dismounted and followed her with a sinking heart. Most of the walls still stood, but it would cost a fortune to repair the house—and it could not be attempted until the war was over.
Alice was wailing, screaming and crying. Babette looked at her with pity, but there was little she could say to comfort her. She walked into the ruin to see if anything was left, but what furniture remained was charred beyond recognition. By the look of it, the renegades had taken anything of value before setting the fire.
As she stood undecided, wondering where they should go next, a servant came running to her.
‘Mistress Babs...Mistress Babs...we tried to save the house, but they drove us out and would not let us near until it was well alight. Forgive us. We could do nothing...’
‘It is not your fault, Ned,’ Babette said. ‘Were any of the servants harmed?’
‘No, my lady. They said they did not make war on servants, but when we tried to remonstrate they beat us with the flat of their swords and we ran for our lives.’
‘Were they Roundheads?’
‘Nay, mistress. They looked like Cavaliers in their dress, but they owed allegiance to no one. I told them Lord Harvey was fighting for the King, but they laughed and said they did not care whether he fought for the devil. They came for plunder and burned the house for sport when they had drunk your brother’s good wine and malmsey.’
Babette closed her eyes in distress as she saw the scene in her mind. Drunken careless sport that had robbed a man of his home—how could it have come to this? The peaceful England she had known before the war seemed to have been torn apart by this wretched conflict.
‘What shall we do?’ Alice flew at her, pulling at her sleeve and weeping wildly. ‘Where do we go now? You cannot desert me...you would not be so cruel!’
Babette felt as if she were being strangled, torn apart. She could not leave Alice alone when she had no home and no servants to protect her.
‘We have some money. We must find lodgings somewhere.’
‘I am sorry you find such sorry news here,’ James spoke from behind her. ‘I can offer you the sanctuary of my house—if you would accept it.’
Babette looked at him, hope in her eyes, but Alice was staring at him in dismay, as if the idea were anathema to her.
‘No...’ She shook her head. ‘I shall not... I cannot.’
‘Think before you reject Captain Colby’s offer,’ Babette said. ‘If we have a roof over our heads, we can rest and think. We shall send word to John and he will make arrangements for us to go to him— perhaps in Oxford.’
‘We could go on to Oxford,’ Alice said, clutching at straws. ‘Please, Babette...think of the child and me.’
‘I am thinking of you,’ Babette said. ‘The journey has stretched your nerves to breaking point thus far—to go on to Oxford and perhaps find that John is elsewhere... No, I have made up my mind. I shall accept Captain Colby’s offer until John comes to fetch you. You may come with me or go on alone.’
Alice looked mutinous, but she could see that Babette would not be swayed. ‘Since you have changed sides it seems that I am at your mercy—a mere prisoner with no power to change your mind. I shall not forgive you for this—and you will be sorry one day.’
‘You will not be a prisoner, but a welcome guest,’ James assured her, his manner polite in the face of her rudeness. ‘You will not long be bothered with my company, Lady Harvey. I shall spend only a few days at my home before leaving to join Cromwell.’
‘That monster...’ Alice muttered, but was ignored.
‘You must leave so soon?’ Babette said, her gaze meeting his. ‘I had hoped...’
‘We shall speak later,’ he promised with a warning look. ‘When we reach my home. It is but twenty leagues from here and, I promise you, you will be safe there.’
‘I know,’ she said, and the smile he gave her warmed her heart. ‘I am so grateful for all you have done for us, sir.’
‘You need never be grateful to me,’ he replied, and his eyes caressed her as did the liquid sweetness of his tone. ‘You saved my life, mistress. I do not forget. But it is not for that alone that I offer you and your family the hospitality of my home.’
‘I understand,’ Babette said and she did. He was telling her that he cared for her as a woman—as the woman he wished to marry—and her heart raced with excitement. Perhaps they would be married before he had to leave. ‘Thank you.’
Alice glared at her as he moved away. ‘I shall send word to Oxford,’ she said. ‘My letter will be passed to John wherever he is—and I shall leave as soon as he comes to fetch me. If you stay, then you cut yourself off from your family for ever.’
‘Please do not be so angry,’ Babette said pleadingly. ‘I would not be bad friends with my brother’s wife. I care for you, the child and John—you know I do.’
‘If you cared for me, you would have pressed on to Oxford,’ she said stubbornly, a look of dislike in her eyes.
Babette had never seen her sister-in-law this way and she felt distressed by the change in her. At the castle Alice had seemed grateful for all she did, though sometimes a little selfish. During her pregnancy, when she was often sick and downcast, she clung to Babette, but since the birth some months earlier she had grown more independent and now she was showing the sharpness of her claws for the first time.
Babette turned away, feeling hurt. Alice would have found it hard to travel on so far—and the dangers they faced without Captain Colby’s escort might have proved fatal. This house had been attacked within the past few weeks, for the smell of soot was still strong, and the renegades might still be in the area. The gold and jewels Babette carried were all they had left of John’s fortune and if that were lost he would have nothing.
‘Mistress, may I come with you?’ Ned Brewster begged, clutching at her arm. ‘I have no other place to live and have been staying here and there, wherever they will give me a bed for a night—and a crust of bread.’
‘Yes, of course you may,’ Babette said. ‘You may ride on the wagon with Jonas. Are there any more of our people without homes?’
‘Nay, mistress. The maids went home—and the young men had gone off to fight, which is why we could not defend ourselves, for it was but I and three women here alone.’
Babette frowned, for it seemed that her brother had left his property undefended. He should have made sure of the loyalty of his men and left at least six stout men-at-arms to defend it. Had he done so, Alice might have had her own home and could have stayed here had she wished.
Babette knew that she no longer felt the need to stay with her and look after her. Alice had made it clear that she was perfectly capable of making her own decisions. She would accompany Babette to Captain Colby’s home, because for the moment she had no choice—but as soon as she was able she would leave.
* * *
They moved on half an hour later, after they had rested the horses, given them water from the well and eaten food that Ned had purchased from a nearby cottage for them. She saw Alice speaking to a villager and the woman seemed to be offering her something. Alice seemed to consider for a moment, then shook her head, but then spoke rapidly to the woman, giving her some kind of message—a message for John should he come here, his sister supposed.
She could not blame John’s wife for wanting to contact him, but the sullen expression on Alice’s face as the little column moved off again made her sad. Why could she not be grateful for the comfort she was offered? There were many in a worse case than they...women and children turned from their homes to fling themselves on the mercy of their relatives. Unfortunately, Babette had no one she could ask for help since her uncle would no longer receive her—and Alice had only a distant aunt whom she had quarrelled with when she ran off with John. The lady had forbidden her to marry without Lord Harvey’s consent for she was a woman of stern principles, but Alice had defied her for love and could not now go to her for help.