Her Rebel Heart (17 page)

The soldier who came out on to the tower didn't seem to notice anything amiss.

“I've given the gun a good clean, Smith,” Luke said and Deliverance cast him a quick glance, hearing the check in his voice. He coughed. “Thank you for the food, Mistress Felton. Now if you'll excuse us, I need to discuss the disposition of the gun with Smith, here.”

Deliverance rose to her feet, hoping the flush in her cheeks did not betray her. She waited till the rest of the gun crew had come huffing up the stairs and clutching her basket to her chest, she stepped into the cool, dark of the stairwell.

She leaned against the wall while her eyes adjusted to the gloom and wondered if her breathing would ever return to normal. With trembling fingers she touched her lips that burned and tingled from the intensity of their desire for each other.

Glancing back at the tower she could see Luke, the soldier, deep in conversation with his gunners.

Luke the soldier...Luke...the lover
?

Her knees threatened to buckle under the weight of the emotions that flowed through her, and she put her hand out to the wall to steady herself. She had never thought much about love, let alone the physical expression of love between a man and a woman. Beyond what she had seen in the stable, her notions of what it entailed were vague at the very best and the thought of this man teaching her, made her head spin.

She reached the ground and stepped out into the bustling courtyard, instinctively ducking as a musket ball spun unheeded past her shoulder. The danger of her position, the threat to the castle...all of these matters receded into insignificance.

Is this love? she thought. Or am I just indulging in some foolish fantasy brought on by the situation I find myself in?

She had no answer to her own question and, taking a steadying breath, she crossed back to the residence, determined to find something to keep herself busy that afternoon—until the next time she and Luke were alone together.

As Luke gained the dark recess of the stairwell, he took a deep breath. He had no idea how he had managed to conduct a lucid conversation with the gunners when his body and mind was absorbed with Deliverance Felton. The betraying ache in his groin had not subsided, and he sat down on one of the narrow window ledges that lined the stairwell. Even on such a bright day, the light barely penetrated the narrow embrasure.

He groaned aloud and leaned his head on his hands. What had he been thinking? Deliverance Felton? If it was just about sex, why couldn't he just slake his lust with any of the other women still within the castle confines?

He took a deep breath and looked up. He didn't want any of the other women. He wanted Deliverance. He remembered the taste of her mouth, her impatience and her response to his touch and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief at his own foolishness. A virgin. Oh dear Lord, of course she had to be a virgin. Her inexperienced touch and her eagerness had betrayed her innocence. He touched his lip where her teeth had accidentally cut him and shook his head.

Why not Deliverance Felton? He thought. He had never contemplated a permanent liaison with any woman, why should Deliverance be any different? And yet she was different, she was his equal in everything—his soul mate?

He rose to his feet, straightening his jacket and tying the strings on his shirt collar. He was her equal in status. Even if she only thought of him as a soldier of fortune, he would have to confide in her at some point. Her father could not possibly disapprove if he knew that Luke was Lord Harcourt's son.

As he took the stairs down the tower he considered the mechanics of conducting a relationship in such a crowded castle. They would have to be careful. He would have to be careful. The garrison must not know that they had formed an attachment but it could be done. It would be done. They could both be dead tomorrow. Why not? Today was for the living.

“You're mad,” he said aloud and stepped out of the tower stairwell into the bustling courtyard.

Chapter 12

H
ave you and Captain Collyer argued again?” Penitence enquired.

Deliverance nearly dropped the bowl she was holding, feeling the colour rise to her cheeks. “Why would you say that?”

“You seem to be avoiding each other. I can't help but notice when he comes into a room, you leave and I haven't seen you talking to each other for days now.”

Deliverance made pretence of carefully measuring out the beans for the days ration. What Penitence had not seen were the careless meetings in dark corridors, when Luke would seize her by the waist, pressing her back into the wall as he kissed her. Neither had Penitence noticed the way their feet touched at the dining table or their hands brushed as they passed each other. The thrill of these illicit encounters made her forget, just for those few fleeting moments, the danger to the castle.

“No,” she said. “We haven't argued. We just have our own tasks. He's busy and I'm busy.”

“That's a relief,” Penitence said. “You were getting on so well.”

Deliverance opened her mouth. Her heart burst with the frustration of keeping the relationship clandestine. She yearned to confide in her sister, as Penitence had confided every nuance of her growing relationship with Jack. At the time Deliverance had found the lovelorn longings of her sister quite nauseating. Now she understood.

The women flinched as a loud explosion followed by a juddering bang in another part of the castle rocked the foundations of the residence..

“Lovedie.” Deliverance summoned the maid. “Take over. I'll go and see the damage.”

She found Luke in the centre of the courtyard looking at the west wall.

“I'm not sure the wall is going to stand much more of this,” he said as she drew level with him. “They've found the sweet spot and they'll just keep hammering at it until it gives way. They just have to bring Hawk Tower down and we will be in trouble.”

Deliverance looked up at him. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I'll have to think about it, but nothing occurs to me at the moment.” He looked down at her, his grey eyes smouldering. The breath left her body and a warm surge of desire rushed through her. They were discussing possible annihilation and all she could think about was the touch of his hands.

“Perhaps if you could spare some time, Mistress Felton, we should inspect our powder supplies,” he said in a husky tone only matched by the glint in the depth of his smoky eyes.

“I think I can spare some time, Captain Collyer,” she responded, hoping no one overhearing them would detect the answering quiver in her voice.

Luke unlocked the door of the chapel and stood aside to let her in. The building smelled of must and gunpowder. The barrels stood neatly stacked against the walls. After the hustle of the world outside and the cramped conditions of the residence, the cool quiet chapel came as a relief. You could, Deliverance thought, almost believe it was still a holy place, not the most dangerous place in the whole castle.

“I think the last time this was used, was for my parents wedding,” she said aloud. “My mother will be turning in her grave to see it so desecrated.”

Luke shrugged. “Needs must. Now shall we start at this end?”

He began counting the barrels. Deliverance blinked. Had she misunderstood him? Did he really intend to check on the powder supplies?

She fought back disappointment. “Will it be enough?”

Luke shrugged. “If the siege ends tomorrow, then yes it will be enough. If the siege lasts until Christmas then we will have surrendered long before then.” He gave a hollow laugh. “Although we will probably have run out of food first and be reduced to eating rats and cats.”

Deliverance looked up at him. The light from the windows, once filled with coloured glass but now, mostly broken and boarded over, cast the lines of strain on his face into sharp relief. Hesitantly she reached up and touched his face, seeing for the first time, the dark shadows under his eyes. He leaned against her hand, his own hand rising to grasp her fingers, placing them against his lips.

In the gloom, his face caught the light from a sliver of the painted glass window, showering it with coloured flecks as he drew her toward him, his other hand slipping around her waist.

“I thought this might be one place we could be alone and undisturbed for a little.” His voice held an unfamiliar husky tone.

She laughed, suddenly nervous. This moment had occupied her thoughts for days and all she could say was, “A strange place for a lover's tryst, Captain Collyer.”

“I'm sure there may have been stranger but none I can think of.” He tilted her face up to look at him. “You have a smudge of dirt on your cheek, Deliverance. No, don't rub it off, it looks rather endearing.”

“This pretence is killing me,” she murmured leaning her head against his chest as he gathered her into his arms.

Even beneath the thickness of his wool jacket, his heart beat steadily against her cheek, and she wound her arms around his neck, pulling his face down so their foreheads and their noses touched. She closed her eyes, feeling Luke's lips on hers. His arms tightened around her and they sank to the dusty floor, locked together.

Deliverance shut her eyes, surrendering to her other senses. The cold, hard flagstones beneath her, the warm smell of man, the rasp of his stubbled cheek against her, the sweet salty taste of his mouth on her lips and the sound of their own desire, mingled in the strange silence of a room filled with gunpowder.

She meshed her fingers in his hair, gasping as his hand cupped her breast. Even through her bodice, her nipples responded, aching for his touch. She began tugging at the laces of her bodice, loosening them enough to allow his questing fingers to find the sensitive nubs. She thought she would scream as a shudder of longing ran through her body. She wanted him to touch her there...and there...

She arched her back, her hips grinding into his. “Luke,” she cried out, remembering at the last minute to lower her voice.

Luke paused and his body stiffened. Deliverance moaned with frustration. He laid a finger against her mouth and she opened her eyes.

His concentration seemed to have moved from her. He poised above her, like a dog that had picked up another, more interesting scent.

“Ssh,” he said. “Can you hear something?”

‘Only the beating of my heart’, she longed to say. He released her, rolling off her to lie on his stomach on the floor beside her, his head turned to look at her and his ear pressed to the stonework.

“Listen.”

Reluctantly she rolled over and copied his actions. Her eyes widened as she heard the unmistakable sound of metal striking rock.

“What...?” she began.

“They're mining,” he interrupted. “The bastards are mining.”

Deliverance sat up, hastily retying her bodice laces and trying to restore some order to her hair as Luke continued to listen to the sound rising through the rock that lay beneath the castle's own foundations.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

In one movement he was on his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes. He put out a hand and pulled her to her feet, rearranging her collar and brushing dead leaves from her hair. His hands rested on her shoulders and he looked into her eyes.

“It means they are digging a tunnel beneath the chapel, Deliverance. They must know the powder is being stored here. What they will do is lay explosives in the tunnel and set them off. That will in turn cause a massive explosion within the castle. We will be lucky to survive. I need to alert the others.”

Deliverance thrust her tangled hair behind her ears, lingering long enough to allow her heartbeat to return to normal, before following him out into the courtyard where he had already gathered Ned and Sergeant Hale. They all returned to the chapel and stood in the middle of the floor looking down at the flagstones.

Ned shook his head. “I don't understand how we've not detected them?” He paused, frowning with concentration. “How on earth did you hear them?”

Luke hesitated for a fraction of a moment before replying, “I bent to retrieve that... he pointed to an empty barrel that had conveniently rolled off the pile. How could they have got so far without our knowledge?”

Deliverance cleared her throat. “I think I know.”

The three men looked up at her.

“There is a crypt under the altar and an old tunnel runs from it down to the riverbank,”

Luke's eyes flashed. “And you never thought to mention it?”

Deliverance bridled. “The tunnel caved in years ago.”

Where does the tunnel come out, Mistress Felton?”

“On the path to the sally port,” Deliverance said.

“Farrington would know about this tunnel?”

She nodded and he gave her a reproachful glance. They had discussed the security of that path and she had assured him it posed no risk. She had forgotten the long lost tunnel under the chapel.

Stupid, stupid
.

She thought about her answer before saying slowly, “Farringtons have been coming to Kinton Lacey for years. Sir Richard himself as a boy, and then his sons. Jack was a friend of my brother's. They spent hours playing in the hidden corners of the castle.” She swallowed.