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Authors: Jane Feather

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

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BOOK: Beloved Enemy
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Alex gave vent to a disgusted exclamation as a foot soldie
r
reeled against the wall,
then
spat in the gutter.
"
Have the
y
no pride? No discipline?"
Spurring his horse, he descended on the knot of tavern leaners who jumped to
alarmed attention as Bucephalus reared over them. They were subjected to a
blistering tirade from the colonel, who told them
in fearsome detail what their fate would be were they unde
r
his command, then ordered them back to their brigade
.
Grim-faced, he returned to his own companions.
"If I ha
d
time to find their officers, this
town would jump
,"
he declared furiously. "How can
we expect to win a war when
there
is no
pride in the uniform, no cohesion, no sense o
f
self-respect? I’d like to have every man jack of
them
under my command for twenty-four hours!"

Ginny glanced at Jed and Diccon. They seemed quite
unperturbed by
their
colonel's vehemence, in fact were
nodding in agreement. She herself, while she had known this side of Alex
existed, found herself fervently hoping that
she
would not have to witness such a display again. And, even more fervently, that
she
should never find herself on the receiving end. It was hard, though, to
avoid making the
mental comparison between the men in
the streets and
what
she had seen of Alex
'
s brigade, where the men stood ta
l
l and proud, went about their work with smooth
efficiency, snapped to attention at the mere glimpse of an officer. If it took
that scalding tongue to turn
them
into the
effective, single-minded fighting machine
that
would ensure their safety in as far as it was possible, what right had she to
question his methods?

O
n
reaching the quay,
they
found Major Bonha
m
,
calm,
com
placent even, Ginny thought,
surveying the f
l
at-bottomed ferries where the horses
were te
there
d in rows, each one attended by a
foot soldier. The remainder of the brigade were
e
mbarked on similar craft, clearly at ease, until a bugle called at the
sight of their commander and the loose ranks
became stiff columns. Alex acknowledged the salute. "Stand them at ease
for the crossing, Major." He dismounted, reaching up to lift Ginny from
the mare the instant before
Dicco
n offered
his hand. "Jed will see to your horse. Come." 
His
palm was in the small of her back, the pressure
gentle but firm as he moved her toward the ferry where stood his officers.

G
inn
y resigned herself to being hurried
along in this pro
pr
ietorial manner. That he was still
annoyed with her, she was
in
no doubt. She could almost feel the coolness radiating
from
his hand.

On reaching the edge of the quay, however, she twitched
awa
y
fr
om
his guidance, catching up her skirts and spring
i
n
g ni
m
bly across the yawning gap between the quay and
the fe
rry. Alex, in spite of his annoyance,
could not help a
t
iny
smile at this renewed evidence of
her ease with all things
nautica
l
. She shook out her skirts and went
over to the port
ra
i
l
f
rom
where she could watch her beloved Isle of Wight
recede in the morning mists. If the mists cleared rapidly,
once
th
ey were well out into the Solent, she
would be able to
see th
e
house that was no longer her home,
standing on the cliff
to
p above Alum Bay. Perhaps such an
indulgence would
not
b
e
wise. To break down, here amongst these men, was unthinkable. One should look
forward, after all, not back. But she could not move as the anchor chains
rattled, the
moo
ring ropes were tossed into the
ferry, and the wind
caught
the broad sail as
the helmsman swung the wheel.  T
he
ferry moved out into the Solent on the swelling tide, and Ginny rested her chin
on her elbows propped on the rail.

“I
could not leave you behind, Ginny." Alex spoke softly, suddenly behind
her, touching her shoulder in brief co
mfort.
 
"Even had I the inclination to lose you, my duty demands that I keep you
under my guard. You understand that, do you not?"

She nodded and sniffed, feeling in her pocket for her
handkerchief. Her fingers closed over the king's document, and with the feel of
the stiff parchment her tears dried. What right had she to lament the loss of
her home when the king had lost his freedom and so many had lost their lives i
n
the cause? And besides, would she not rather be here,
locked in passion and conflict with the man who aroused her to such peaks of
glory, offered such an expanse of wonder to b
e
explored.

With a decisive movement, she turned from the rail. "I
have done with grieving, sir."

Alex looked at her, a frown in his eyes, then inclined his
head in brief acknowledgment. As he began to move away, she said softly,
"I
crave pardon for my earlier
discourtesy.
I
t was inexcusable
.
"

"
Yes,"
he said thoughtfully. "It was. You will be wise to, ensure that it does
not happen again. But I will pardon you, on this occasion."

And for that small mercy, Ginny supposed, she should be
grateful.

It was mid morning when the procession of ferries turned into
Lymington estuary. The river was as busy as always with small craft plying
backward and forward between the flat marshes on either side. As the leading
ferry approached the cobbled quay, men and boys, clustering around the bollards
and leaning against the low stone wall, leaped forward to receive the mooring
ropes thrown from the ferry by a sinewy ferryman whose bare torso was burned a
dee
p
mahogany. The helpers on the shore
would expect to be paid, and Ginny wondered whether Cromwell's army did pay for
such services rendered, or whether they came under the heading of expected
loyalty to Parliament. The ferries were all docked side by side, and the
complicated process of disembarkation began.

Jed came over to Ginny. "Colonel wants you to stay on
board, mistress, until the brigade's reformed.
"

"
Why?"
She frowned in puzzlement. "I can wait on th
e quay.”

Jed shuffled his feet on the wooden deck. "I think as
'ow Colonel feels you’l
l
be safer here, beggin' your
pardon."

"I
wil
l not be able to run, you mean.
"
She shrugged easily. “I not think I
would get very far, do you, Jed?"

"Not if Colonel doesn't want you to," Jed
concurred. “Doesn't want you t
o
try,
th
ough. Could be awkward."

G
in
ny had
little
difficulty believing this laconic statement and
s
ettled down on a coil of rope to watch the disembarka
tion.
 It could have been chaos with the
horses, unnerved by the voyage, stamping and tossing their heads, the two
hundred
men milling around unloading
the
carts of suppli
e
s;
instead, everyone seemed to know exactly what they were
to
do, officers were everywhere, playing as active a
part as t
h
eir men, and Alex, Ginny decided,
seemed to have the gift of being in ten places at once. She watched him
closely, noti
cing
how he never seemed to be
interfering, was not ave
r
s
e
to
putting his shoulder beneath a particularly awkward bundle, how the men joked
and laughed around him. Yet she knew the awe bordering on fear in which they
held hi
m
.

The sun was warm, the ferry rocked gently on its moori
ng,
the ropes creaked with the sound that to Ginny was as
so
pori
fic as a lullaby. Her eyes drooped as
a wondrous let
ha
rgy spread through her. She curled up
on the coil of
rope,
pillowing her head on her hand,
inhaling the sun-
soa
ked fragrance of
the
wooden deck, the faint oily smell of the rope, the
salt-fish river marsh smell.

Colonel Marshall
'
s
brigade formed up in orderly ranks on the quay, cavalry at their head, baggage
carts neatly loaded at the rear. The sight seemed to please their commander sin
ce
, after roll call and inspection, an hour's liberty
was a
n
nounced. A low cheer rose from the
ranks at the prospect of
th
e freedom to roam the street of
Lymington town. An
hour
was not long, but if the wenches
were willing and the
ale
   strong, much could be
accomplished.

Alex turned with his officers toward the Ship Inn on the
quay.
"
Fetch Mistress Courtney, Diccon, will
you? She will be as much in need of refreshment as the rest of us, I
daresay." He shook his head with a slight smile as Diccon, transparently
eager, set off back to the ferry. It was probably best to let him work out his own
problems. Keeping him away from Ginny would most likely only exacerbate his
tendre; besides she would be more than capable of dealing with any
inappropriate behavior on the part of the lieutenant without the colonel's
interference.

The taproom was crowded, but the landlord was more than
willing to supply a private parlor abovestairs for Parliament's officers. Apart
from anything else, he didn't want any trouble, and there were many of his
regulars who wouldn't take kindly to drinking in the company of Roundheads.
Ale, bread, meat, cheese, and fruit were brought and, to the landlord's relief,
promptly paid for. One could never be too sure these days whether what was
provided would be considered a contribution to the army's well-being.

Alex went over to the tiny, diamond
-
paned window looking down on the quay. Diccon was
loping across toward the inn, and he was alone. Alex's back stiffened. She
could not possibly have managed to evade Jed's eye on the ferry. But if she
had, in the melee on the quay, she could easily have slipped away. Controlling
his impatience, he forced himself to wait until Diccon bounded into the room.


Where
is
Mistress Courtney, Lieutenant?" he demanded softly.

Diccon looked stricken. "It's —
i
t's rather awkward, Colonel, you see she . . ."

"
She
what, Lieutenant Maulfrey?" There was total silence in the dim, heavily
paneled room as Diccon struggled for words to express his embarrassment, having
no idea what it was that the colonel suspected.

"She's —
w
ell —
a
sleep, Colonel,
"
he stammered. "I —
I
did not know whether to wake her or
not. She looked so peaceful, you see, and—
a
nd
she did say this morning that she had not slept well last night. Shall —
s
hall I go back and wake her?"

Alex visibly relaxed, and the rest of the men followed suit.
"No, Diccon. We will leave her for a
little
while; then I will go myself, since she must eat before we move on.
"

Half an hour later, he stood looking down at the sleeping fi
g
ure. He could quite see Diccon's difficulty; Ginny did
t
ook entrancingly peaceful. He wanted
to stroke the curve of h
e
r cheek, slip his
little
finger between those full, slightly
parted lips, tantalizing her with his touch. As he watched,
she
rolled over onto her back, flinging one arm
carelessly above her head, the movement lifting the generous round
n
ess of her breasts beneath the laced bodice. His body
s
ti
rred in inconvenient response. Jed,
sitting on an upturned pail splicing rope, coughed and gave his colonel a
shrewd, appraising look.

BOOK: Beloved Enemy
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