The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride Page 20

  ‘Nay, Babette.’ James’s brow relaxed and he smiled slightly. ‘You shame me by your goodness. Forgive me, I should have comforted you rather than frown on you, but I was angry when I saw what they did to you. I wondered what had caused their spite, but I should have remembered the way ignorant people mistake skill for witchery.’

  ‘It seems that if someone hates you they will use the label of witch against you.’

  ‘Alice is an ungrateful wretch to hurt you so.’

  ‘It hardly matters since you came in time to help me.’

  ‘Had I not done so...’ He shuddered, his eyes dark with anguish. She saw it and smiled, holding out her hand to comfort him.

  ‘Do not let them distress you, James.’

  ‘The sooner we are away from here, the better!’

  ‘I have the horses we brought from Colby,’ she said. ‘They are stabled at the hostelry—and Jonas and Maigret would wish to return with us, I think.’

  ‘Then we shall go back to your brother’s lodging house and ask them—and I shall speak with your brother. I would have things settled between us if I can.’

  ‘Yes.’ Babette held his hand tightly, her fingers entwining with his. ‘If you do not mind, I would like to say goodbye to John. Alice does not behave as she ought to him and I fear for their marriage.’

  James nodded. ‘She is a selfish woman and such women often make their husbands’ lives unbearable. I shall offer to make your brother a loan to help him rebuild Brevington. If he will accept my help, there is no reason why we should not be friends in the future—when this war is ended.’

  ‘I wish it were ended now,’ Babette said. ‘But I fear the hatred is strong here and I do not think the King would make peace—he believes that he is the one who has been wronged by the men who speak and fight against him.’ She looked at him anxiously. ‘Should you be here, James? Are you not taking a risk?’

  ‘I had to come, Babette,’ he said, and his eyes were serious. ‘I was afraid that you might suffer at your sister-in-law’s hands—and it seems I was right. I dared not leave it to fate whether you returned or not—and I thank God I was in time.’

  ‘Yes...’ Babette shivered as she thought what might have happened had he not arrived in the market square at the right moment. She would not tell him that she had been forced to sleep in the attics or of the way Alice had taken every chance to spite and humiliate her. It no longer mattered. All that she cared for now was that James and her brother should make their own peace—and perhaps one day become friends.

  * * *

  John had risen from his bed and was downstairs in the parlour when they returned to the house. Looking at his face, Babette saw the terrible despair and asked what troubled him.

  ‘It is Alice,’ he said. ‘We quarrelled earlier and she left in anger. I think she has gone to Captain Richards. She told me she wished I had died and that “that witch your sister had not cured you”—she hates us both, it seems.’

  ‘Oh, John, I am so sorry,’ Babette said. She hesitated, then, ‘If she thinks Captain Richards will wed her, I fear she is wrong. He will ruin her and desert her.’

  ‘By God, I’ll kill him if he does.’

  ‘Would you take her back if she returned?’ James asked, looking at him hard. ‘If I should go after him and force him to release her...’

  ‘I appreciate the offer, for I am in no case to chase after an errant wife,’ John said and then sighed. ‘No, I do not want her forced. If she comes back to me...we’ll see.’ He shook his head. ‘Enough of my troubles. We must speak in private of Babs—and then I must arrange a safe passage out of Oxford for you both. Drew is due here at any time. He will see you clear, as he has more authority than I.’

  ‘Yes, I know he was the fugitive some of my colleagues searched for when I stayed with Sir Matthew. I am aware that he is a clever spy and bears a price on his head, but I would not dwell on these things. He is my cousin and once my best friend. We are at war and must manage each for ourselves as best we can.’ He turned to Babette. ‘Go up and pack your things. We shall leave within the hour. To stay longer might endanger us both after what happened in the market.’

  ‘What happened?’ John asked, but Babette shook her head.

  ‘It does not matter,’ she replied and walked away, turning at the door as she heard a child’s cry. ‘What is that—she did not leave the babe?’

  ‘Aye, she told me she wanted none of the troublesome brat. I must find a nurse for him somehow.’

  Babette’s gaze met James’s, and he inclined his head. ‘If you wish, we can give the boy a home with us until the war is over and you come for him.’

  The look of relief in her brother’s face made her smile. John would not have asked, but to know that his child was safe would ease the burden of grief for him. He could not have left the child with a nurse and been at ease, for children died so easily if neglected.

  Running upstairs, she found Maigret nursing the babe. The maidservant was relieved to see her. ‘The babe is sore, mistress. She would not let me use the salve you gave me to ease his bottom.’

  ‘Alice has gone to visit someone so you may use the salve now,’ Babette said, not wishing to betray her brother’s wife. ‘We are to take him home with us until John comes for him. Pack his things and yours, for we must leave within the hour.’

  ‘Praise be to God,’ Maigret said. ‘I have been praying that you would go home, mistress—and take me with you.’

  * * *

  ‘Go with God, both of you,’ John said and leaned in to kiss Babette’s cheek. ‘Drew will see you through the gates and accompany you far enough to see you safe and then return. You have my blessing, Sister—and I shall come for the child when I have a home to take him to and a nurse to care for him.’

  ‘I am so sorry, John,’ she said. ‘I know you loved Alice.’

  ‘I shall always love her, but time heals in its own way.’

  Babette nodded and walked to her horse. James tossed her up to the saddle and gave her the reins, gazing up at her earnestly.

  ‘You are ready?’

  ‘Very ready and eager,’ she said, not trying to hide the way she felt. ‘I shall be glad to be home.’

  ‘And I,’ he said. ‘We shall have but a few days now, but we must make the most of them, Babs.’

  ‘Yes, we shall,’ she replied and then as he turned away to mount his own horse, she glanced at Drew Melbourne. ‘I thank you for the safe passage you have secured for us, sir.’

  ‘I gave you my word that I would see you safely home—and I do not forget that I owe my life to you. I am happy to repay the debt.’

  ‘You will say farewell to Mistress Beth for me, please. We met but briefly, but I liked her. I hope that one day you will bring your wife to us as a friend, sir.’

  ‘If ever we are fortunate enough to marry, I shall certainly do so,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘My lady liked you, too, mistress—but her father will not part with her just yet, I fear.’

  ‘I am sorry for you both,’ Babette said, for she knew how it felt to wait for the end of the conflict and not to know if you would ever see the one you loved again. At least Beth and Drew were able to meet when they were both in Oxford, but Drew must be often on some secret mission for the King. She knew now that when he’d been injured both he and John had infiltrated a garrison of rebels and, when unmasked, had barely escaped with their lives. Had they been discovered in Sir Matthew’s woods they would have been hung without a trial—and she might have been severely punished for helping them. She had not known the risk she ran and had James not been the man he was, she might easily have been caught when on a visit to the fugitives.

  She had been fortunate that it was he and not some other Roundhead officer who had discovered her foraging in the woods. She drew close with him as they began to thread
their way through the busy streets, smiling at him.

  ‘I love you, James Colby,’ she said. ‘I cannot wait to be your wife.’

  ‘I love you, my sweet lady,’ he replied. ‘Once I would have called you a witch in jest, but no more. Had I not come in search of you, I know not what might have happened here.’

  ‘My brother would have saved me if he knew...but it might have been too late,’ she replied and looked deep into his eyes. ‘Only you would have walked into a Royalist stronghold in search of me, James. Did you not think of the danger to yourself?’

  ‘I came alone, for I would not risk my men or my servants,’ he said, his gaze warming her through to the heart. ‘I thought your sister-in-law might have taken your letter, and I feared she meant you some harm. I had to come, otherwise I might have lost you.’

  ‘I do not know why she should hate me, but I think she does.’

  ‘Jealousy, perhaps?’ James arched his brows. ‘You are all that she is not and never could be.’

  Babette arched her brows at him, but he merely smiled.

  ‘I shall tell you when we are alone...when we are wed...’

  Babette felt her cheeks grow warm and looked away, because the promise in his eyes made her tremble and burn with what she knew, but would not for her modesty name, as sweet desire. A tide of love, need and hot passion rose up in her. How much she loved this man, loved his strength, his gentleness and his honour. Hot betraying colour washed into her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes for fear that he should see her need and know how much she longed to be in his arms and feel his kiss.

  Chapter Thirteen

  James had arranged to meet his men at a safe distance from Oxford. When they reached the prearranged meeting place the men were waiting in the secluded clearing within vast woods. Drew said farewell and withdrew with the two men-at-arms he had brought with him to escort them clear of the city.

  James thanked him for his good offices. ‘I pray that we shall never meet as enemies on the field of battle, Cousin,’ he said as they clasped hands.

  ‘And I pray for a lasting settlement that will bring the country together again.’

  James inclined his head, though he knew that Drew desired a different outcome to that dearest to his own heart. Drew would have his Majesty back on his throne, whilst James wanted a free Parliament elected by the people for the people. Their beliefs directly opposed and were unlikely to meet unless a sensible agreement could be found.

  For a while after Drew had gone they rode in silence; then, glancing at James, Babette asked, ‘It must pain you to know that your cousin is an avowed enemy to your cause?’

  ‘It would if I dwelled upon it,’ he agreed and smiled at her. ‘I could never hate Drew, especially after what he did for us today—and yet I believe that all he stands for is wrong. If King Charles would but accept he is mere mortal man and rules for the good of the people and not by divine right, perhaps a truce could be called—a settlement whereby he was not an absolute monarch, a dictator, but a servant of the people.’

  ‘Do you think Charles Stuart would ever agree to such restrictions?’

  ‘No, I do not,’ he said ruefully. ‘His belief is so absolute that I think he would rather accept death.’

  They were silent then for a moment, then James said, ‘But we shall not think or talk of the war, Babs. We shall be wed as soon as we get home so that we can have a few days together. I had hoped for longer but it took me five days to find you.’

  ‘I wish that I had not been obliged to leave your house, James.’

  ‘I do not blame you, my love,’ he said and sighed. ‘Only this wretched war that obliges me to leave you. Had you ignored your brother’s need, we should not have made our peace with him, but it has curtailed the time I hoped to have with you.’

  Babette inclined her head. Theirs had been a love dogged by duty and regret on both sides, but now at last they were free to follow their hearts.

  She felt a warm glow as he rode ahead to catch up with his men. He was a strong, handsome man and she loved him. Perhaps she would never be first in his heart, for he still loved Jane—but he cared for her. He had entered Oxford, knowing that he could be arrested and tried as a spy, for which the punishment was a terrible death—and he had saved her from a vicious mob.

  She might not be his first love, but she would make herself so useful to him that she would be his last.

  * * *

  Mrs Brisket came out to the courtyard as they dismounted, looking anxious. She smiled a welcome as James helped Babette to dismount and came to kiss her on the cheek.

  ‘I am so pleased to see you home, Mistress Babette,’ she said, ‘and you, sir.’ Then, after some hesitation, ‘There are visitors, mistress. They claimed to be your relatives and so I allowed them to stay, but I was not sure if I did right.’

  Babette was mystified. ‘I have only two relatives besides my brother and nephew—and that is Aunt Minnie and—’ Before she could finish someone came out of the house and rushed towards her, crying her name. ‘Cousin Angelina,’ she said. ‘How came you here—is my aunt with you?’

  ‘She was afraid to come after the way you were turned from our house,’ Angelina said and caught her hands. ‘But I was sure you would take us in, Babs. Please, please do not send us away, for we have nowhere to go.’

  ‘Nowhere to go?’ Babette stared at her in surprise. ‘How did you know I was here? And why have you nowhere to go?’

  ‘We did not know. We came to ask sanctuary of my father’s cousin and your housekeeper told us he was to marry you, but that you had been called to Oxford. She allowed us to wait for your return.’ Tears were trembling on Angelina’s lashes. ‘My father is dead. They came one night at dusk just as we sat down to supper—twenty or more—and they accused him of being a traitor to the King. They said he would be tried and hanged for his crimes and arrested him but...he would not go with them and they killed him in the struggle.’

  ‘Sir Matthew is dead?’ Babette made the sign of the cross over her heart. ‘I am so sorry. I bore him no ill will for what he said to me, for I know he was a superstitious man. I am sorry for your loss.’

  Angelina shook her head. ‘I do not care. He was so cruel to Mother and to me after you left, forbidding us any pleasures. I think he had lost his reason.’

  ‘Oh, Angelina. I am so very sorry, my dear. But why did you say you had nowhere to go?’

  ‘The Royalists gave us an hour to pack our personal things and then they made us leave with what we had on a small cart. After we had gone they set fire to the house.’

  ‘Set fire... Oh, no, how could they?’ Babette said. ‘That was surely not necessary.’

  ‘They said it was a nest of vipers and that my father harboured spies and traitors. We could not think of anyone else who would take us in, for we knew that the castle had fallen—and as we passed Brevington we saw it had also been burned, though some of it still stands.’

  ‘John is to build a new, smaller house there soon,’ Babette told her. ‘As far as I am concerned you may stay here—at least until somewhere of your own can be found...’ She glanced at James and he frowned slightly, then replied that she might do as she wished since she was the mistress of her own home.

  He had turned away to talk to his housekeeper and then to his steward. Angelina tucked her arm through Babette’s and they went into the house together. As they entered the larger parlour at the front of the house, Aunt Minnie came towards them, looking anxious.

  ‘I am sorry if we are a trouble to you, Babette,’ she said. ‘Had I anywhere else to go...’

  ‘Do not be foolish, Aunt. I know well that it was not your choice to send me away. My uncle was a superstitious man and took a dislike to me—but I have the lace you gave me, which was my mother’s, and I shall use it for my first child’s christening gown.’
>
  Her eyes were suspiciously moist as she looked at Babette. ‘It is generous of you to speak so fair to me, Babette. I always knew that neither you nor your mother was a witch—and it was a lie that she ill wished that man. What happened was that he tried to touch you in a way not befitting an older man with a very young girl. Your mother was so very angry. She told him that she would see him punished—that he would be placed in the stocks for other men and women to throw rotten fruit at and then given fifty lashes.’

  ‘My uncle thought she cursed him.’

  ‘No more than any mother who saw a man try to interfere with her young daughter—but they were friends and when he lied and told your uncle that she was a witch and had cursed him, he believed her. When you wanted to stay with us he reminded me of it and told me that if he saw a sign of witchcraft you would have to go. I was so sorry that he should think your brave action, which saved Captain Colby from bleeding to death, was a sign that you had used the dark arts. Had I argued with him he would have said I was bewitched and must be whipped to drive the demons from my body.’

  ‘He did beat you, Mother,’ Angelina said, ‘because you said that you were sad Babette had left us. And when I refused to believe ill of my cousin, he locked me in my room with bread and water until I apologised to him.’

  ‘I am so sorry that what I did caused so much trouble for you both,’ Babette said. ‘Please forgive me.’

  ‘It is I who begs forgiveness,’ her aunt said. ‘I have missed you, Babette—and if you will permit me, I should like to see you wed.’

  ‘I shall be happy for you to attend me at my wedding, Angie,’ Babette said. ‘And it is good to have you here, dear Aunt. Please, let us forget what happened, for it can only cause distress to remember.’

  ‘I shall never allow anyone to call you names again,’ Aunt Minnie said. ‘I was afraid of Matthew, but in future I shall speak out what is in my heart.’

  Babette thanked her and then went upstairs to see how Maigret and Baby Jonny had fared on the journey.