A Rose in Winter (80 page)

"There, there, Aggie," she soothed, patting the woman's shoulder, "the master'll be along soon no doubt. Don't grieve yerself."

Aggie raised her teary gaze and looked at the girl as if she had grown two heads of a sudden. "What are ye talkin' Trout? This here's the master. Lord Christopher Saxton, he be."

"Oh." Tessie's large eyes came around to the one who was ordering Bundy and Haggard to take positions near the windows. A shattering of glass evidenced their readiness to defend the manor as they broke out the crystal panes and thrust out the bores of the long Yankee rifles.

Christopher surveyed the faces that surrounded him as he took his wife into the shelter of his arm. The cook was even there, grinning from ear to ear. "Those of you who would are free to leave. Erienne can show you the way out."

"No!"
The word came from several lips at once, then he realized that Erienne had spoken also. He looked down at her, and she clung to him with a tenacity that revealed her intent as strongly as her word.

"I shall not leave your side. I will not rear my babe without a father."

Aggie enlarged upon the theme. "When the old lord was slain, the servants were sent to safety. He faced his murderers alone. We'll stay, milord. Maybe I can't shoot one o' them fancy muskets o' yers, but I can swing a wicked broom."

"You should be aware that I am the night rider," Christopher explained for the benefit of those who were still torn with confusion. "I am the one whom the sheriff has been seeking, but my cause has been just, and that was to root out the thieves that Allan Parker and Lord Talbot led. They killed my father, and they torched the wing to murder my brother. Many have fallen prey to the highwaymen, and I only sought to end their reign of terror."

"Are you really Lord Saxton?" Tessie asked timidly.

Erienne laughed and wrapped her arms about her husband's lean waist, hugging him close. "I know 'tis hard to believe, but this is the same one who nearly frightened us out of our wits."

A shot from outside brought their attention around to more serious matters. Each hurriedly took up weapons of their choice, some as unusual as those the peasants had assembled, and as Erienne loaded a pistol with powder and shot, she caught Christopher's eyes upon her.

"My darling wife," he murmured softly, "'tis probable that I shall be most heavily set upon within the next few moments. The front door, as solid as it is, cannot be properly defended, and they will come before long to ram it down. 'Twould please me much if you..."

Erienne's head was already shaking before he finished. Strangely she experienced no fright, no fear. She was in her home, and a grim determination lay beneath her composed exterior. "I will stay with you." She tapped the pistol with the tip of her finger and informed him bluntly, "The man who harms you will not live out the day. I will see to that." There was a level sternness in her gaze that made Christopher glad she was his wife and not a foe.

A shield of sorts was quickly formed to protect the ramming brigade, and the door suffered from a relentless pounding of an oaken log. Even so, any man who did not make full use of the cover fell by the wayside, his life snatched from him by a shot from the manor. Talbot stood in the shelter of some trees near the manse, safely out of the line of fire but not so far away that he could not claim the victory that was close at hand. He watched the proceedings with a smug smile, while Claudia surveyed the happenings from the comfort of the carriage. Neither of them were aware of the one who peered out of the boot, for Avery was content to remain hidden lest some action be demanded of him in the taking of the manor.

The door cracked and splintered beneath the strain of the invading timber, and the dozen who clustered behind the wooden shield guffawed, for the next few blows promised to see them through. Parker was behind them, urging them on and lending his weight to the task. Then out of the corner of his eye he caught an unexpected flash of color coming across the field. He paused to look and found a pack of enraged peasants running toward them, brandishing their weapons and setting up a hue and cry as they neared.

"Get this damn door open quick!" he yelled.

The log hit the planks once again, and the door crashed inward. Talbot had also seen the peasants, and when the sheriff and men surged forward, he was immediately behind them. Some of the other highwaymen started to run across the clearing to join them but fell back as the tenants charged them. The highwaymen were hard pressed to defend themselves against the angry attack and gave no further consideration to joining the few who had entered the manse.

The rushing tide of eager foes was met by an assault of pistols fired from very close range. The first few fell, but the others charged forward over the bodies of their dead companions as Christopher, Haggard, and Bundy fell back into the great hall. There the brigands were immediately confronted by another form of attack. Ears rang with the almost musical notes of heavy iron pans laid to thick skulls. Aggie and Paine were there in the midst of the fray, while the cook in nervous agitation awaited a worthy target for his long, vicious-looking knife. The men in the fore had to meet the slashing blade of his lordship, Saxton, and the clumsier hacking of Bundy and Haggard's swords. Parker pressed through this melange of experienced and novice fighters and leapt clear. His goal was the Lady Erienne, whose capture would assure surrender, but a single pace in her direction brought him face to face with the lord of the manor and the long, blood-darkened blade of a claymore.

"Your time has come, Lord Saxton," the sheriff threatened as he drew his dagger and lifted the saber for the attack.

"Aye!" Christopher returned with a slowly spreading smile. "You have for too long ravaged this land and escaped your fate. You took my wife and held her captive with no other cause but to draw me out. You have succeeded to that end. Aye! Your time has come!"

Erienne pressed a hand tightly across her mouth as her heart throbbed in sudden dread. Fear rose within her, and she could not beat it back as she watched her husband taunt his enemy with the bloodied claymore. The sword described a slow arc back and forth before the other's eyes.

"Death, Milord Sheriff," Christopher promised. "Death!"

The sheriff launched the attack with all his considerable skill, the saber slashing, thrusting, cutting, while the dagger was held ready to test the flesh of the other. The long, straight claymore, as heavy as the saber but with a double edge that was whisker sharp, denied his thrust and lunge and met each with a threat of its own.

The great hall rang with the sound of the clashing swords, which was echoed by the conflict near the entry. Talbot, not knowing where to turn, met the menacing glare of the cook. The knife threatened him, and being quite squeamish about bloodletting when it concerned his own, he raised his cane and lowered it over the man's head, crumpling him to his knees. Talbot would have reversed his direction then and there, seeing that his best choice for survival was outside, where the tenants were being beaten back, but when he turned to leave, his jaw sagged, for another horde was swarming up the hill to give aid to the peasants, this one led by Farrell and a man in a blue coat. The new wave of recruits had the look of seamen, and it became quickly apparent that they were experienced fighters. Talbot turned back into the hall and snatched up the cook's knife. Haggard, Bundy, and the rest of the servants were too busy subduing the brigands to notice as he slipped past them into the hall. His eyes settled almost gleefully on the back of Christopher Saxton as that worthy fought for his life. Talbot hefted the knife and charged to the attack, preferring to sneak up on a man from behind.

Suddenly the hall filled with a thunderous sound as Erienne made good her threat. Talbot was thrown backward by the force of the shot she fired from the pistol, and Christopher glanced around in surprise to see the man fall with limbs sprawled in a grotesque fashion and with a hand still clasping the knife. The sheriff saw his advantage and plunged forward to deal the death blow, but the saber was struck down by the claymore as Christopher's attention returned to him.

Lord Saxton's eyes seemed to flash with a renewed strength, and the claymore dipped to the attack. It flashed beneath Parker's guard, then whipped up. A sharp pain pierced the sheriff's left arm, and the dagger fell useless to the floor. He beat down the plunging thrust of the other, retreating a step. Another attack was launched, and Allan swept it aside, but there was no pause, no time to counterthrust. Another came, and then another until Allan Parker's lips twisted in a snarl at the helplessness of his defense. He never felt the thrust that pierced his ribs and heart, only a slight tug at his vest as the blade withdrew. The strength faded from his arms as he stared at Christopher in stunned surprise. A sudden darkness came upon the hall as his saber clattered to the floor, and Allan Parker never knew when he fell beside it.

There was silence in Saxton Hall as Christopher glanced about. Those few thieves who had entered and survived were being nudged outside by the prodding sword of Haggard Bentworth, and they knew by the gleam in his eye he was serious. Christopher tossed down the claymore and gathered Erienne in his arms as she came to him and softly sobbed out her relief against his chest.

"I must thank you for defending my back, madam," he whispered against the fragrant hair. "Our babe might yet grow up with a father."

Her weeping grew more intense as the stress of the day was released and her fears were put to rest. She clung to him, wetting his shirt with her tears, and she felt the gentle stroking of his hand and the touch of his lips against her hair as he held her close against him.

Finally she quieted, and holding her against his side, Christopher moved outside to stand in front of the manor and allow the spring sun to warm them. They saw the multitude of people who had come to their defense, and even Christopher suffered from a mistiness in his eyes as he realized the tenants had risked their lives for him. They came to assure themselves that all was well with the Saxton family and met a lord they could look upon with ease. In a few moments they set to work clearing away the dead. It seemed for them at least that of their own forces no more than a handful had suffered serious wounds.

Bundy and Tanner carried out Lord Talbot, and there was a duo of gasps in the Talbot carriage as both Claudia and Avery recognized the limp and bloody form. The tars from the
Cristina
had passed Claudia by after glancing in the carriage to make sure it held no threat to them and thus made no attempt to stop the coach as she yelled up to the driver to be on his way.

Defeat came as a crushing blow to the man and woman. Avery could see no hope for his life; he was bound to roam in endless fear, always afraid of that moment when he would meet Christopher Seton again. Or was it Saxton? He shrugged mentally. One was as bad as the other.

Claudia's outlook was hardly any better. She had gleaned enough knowledge in the past few days to settle the suspicion in her mind that her father had been a thief and perhaps even a murderer. His holdings would no doubt be stripped away by the Crown, and she could not bear the humiliation that would be forthcoming. With no one to take care of her now and to coddle her with the riches of life, she did not know how she would survive. Perhaps she should gather what wealth she could find in the Talbot mansion and travel elsewhere.

Christopher observed the passage of the coach from his sight and then turned his gaze to the pair of men who approached them. It was Farrell and Captain Daniels, and while the latter was smiling broadly, the former frowned in sharp disapproval at the couple. Christopher thrust out a hand in greeting to his captain, then looked to his wife's brother.

"Farrell, I don't think we've been properly introduced." Christopher smiled as he extended his hand. "I am Lord Saxton."

The young man's eyes widened, and he searched the softly smiling visage of his sister as he mechanically accepted the hand. "Lord Saxton?
The
Lord Saxton?"

"Aye, I am the one who wore the mask and walked with a limp," Christopher confessed. " 'Twas done partly to fool the thieves into believing the man they had murdered was still alive, and then too, I desired to wed your sister and found no other way. I hope you will value the friendship we began when you knew me as the cripple."

Farrell tried to grasp all the facts and put them together in their proper places. "You are really married to my sister, and you are the father of her . . ."

Erienne blushed as she glanced hesitantly toward the sea captain, who seemed to be enjoying the whole exchange. His smile broadened as her husband gave a reply.

"You needn't sharpen your skill with firearms to avenge your sister's honor," Christopher replied. The teasing gleam in his eyes shone brighter. " 'Twas quite properly made, I assure you."

They paused as a coach came into view, followed by a score of riders. Erienne immediately recognized the entourage as the same they had passed on their return from London some weeks before and was puzzled by its presence here. The conveyance swept up the drive and pulled to a halt. A footman rushed to open the door, and the Marquess Leicester descended the steps that were set before the door.

"Have we come too late?" he inquired with an amused smile twitching at his lips. He glanced about, surveying the scene of the tars carrying away the dead and piling them in carts. "I say, you didn't need my help at all. It looks as if you've put these thieves to rout once and for all." He turned back to question the occupants of the carriage. "Ladies, 'tis a dreadful sight you'll see here. Are you sure you're up to it?"