The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride (15 page)

‘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.

She had only Babette and her husband to turn to. Knowing that, Babette felt some of her disappointment in Alice abating. Alice was feeling anxious and lonely without her husband. They had lost the castle and now the manor house was useless, because John would find it hard to raise enough money to repair it. Indeed, it was so badly damaged that he might have to tear it down and build new. If the King won the war, he would surely regain his property—and perhaps some reparation for his losses would be made?

She frowned because she knew it would be hard for him, but then it must be hard for hundreds of other men who had given up their homes and livelihoods to fight—on whatever side. Would houses that had been captured ever be returned to their rightful owners? It might take years to do so whatever the outcome of the war—and some men would simply be ruined.

Had John made provision for his family elsewhere? For a moment she wondered if she ought to have let Alice have her way and go on to Oxford, but had they arrived there alone, it would have been difficult to find lodgings they could afford without depleting John’s small fortune.

She worried over her brother and his family, but she was not responsible for their future. As yet her own future was not settled, though James intended to make her his wife. Sighing, she looked at his back, saw the pride and strength in him and smiled.

For the moment she would take what happiness she could.

* * *

‘What do you think of my home, mistress?’ James asked as he came to help her dismount, his hands about her waist. ‘Do you think you will be happy here?’

‘Yes, from what I have seen,’ she said and smiled. They had approached past farms that looked lush with heavy crops and had an air of well-being. The woods were thick and teemed with birds and game, and the orchard was beginning to show signs of the fruit it would bear later that year. ‘I like it well.’

The house was large, more impressive than Brevington and fortified with a moat and gatehouse, which her brother’s manor had not been. The walls were of a faded yellow stone, the roof of grey slate and the windows long and narrow, set with tiny leaded panes of dull glass. Over one long wall, a pale lilac wisteria had spread outwards and upwards, hiding the stonework, though cleared away from the windows; its scent was heavy on the early summer air. It was a house of three storeys, the windows in the attics protruding outwards in the form of dormers, square and shapely. There were pillars along the front and, under a protecting sloped roof, a long veranda with a balustrade, which was overrun with roses, still in bud as now. Babette thought they would be glorious in full summer bloom.

She could not wait to go inside, and when they did could hardly keep from exclaiming at the beauty of walls panelled in mellow golden oak. The floors were of some heavy limestone tile, but covered here and there with rich carpets and rugs in colours of crimson, gold, cream and dark blue. Pictures and an occasional mirror hung on the walls, the frames heavily carved in ornate patterns. The furniture was mainly good English oak, but there were also a few pieces of walnut, which looked as if they might be Dutch. A huge court cupboard in the Great Hall was set with pewter and silver, also bowls of either alabaster or jade; there were intricate carvings of what she thought might be soapstone, which she knew came from far-off China. She saw a beautiful posset set of Venetian glass and several carved wooden stands, which held books or needlework frames or musical instruments, and everywhere smelled of lavender.

It was a house created with love...for Jane perhaps? Babette felt a stab of pain. He must have loved her very much to gather so many beautiful things here for her sake.

Would he ever love Babette as much?

For a moment the doubts assailed her but when he looked at her, his brows raised, she thrust them from her mind.

‘It is a beautiful house, James,’ she said from the heart. ‘Any woman would be proud to live here.’

‘I am glad you like my home. It was my grandfather’s house, passed down through my family. I had it refurbished a few years ago when I returned from my travels. I hoped to be happy here.’ His voice trailed away as he gazed down at her. ‘Shall you be happy here, Babs?’

‘Yes, I think so—I know I could be.’ She felt the faint tinge of warmth in her cheeks, as his look deepened and she wished that he would take her in his arms and tell her of his love.

Hearing a wailing sound from behind her, she turned to see Alice looking at her balefully. John’s son was screaming, clearly wet or hungry, but it was the look of resentment in Alice’s eyes that made her shudder. She clearly felt it unfair that Captain Colby’s home should be untouched while hers had been destroyed.

‘Your son is tired and needs attention,’ James said, as a woman came silently to stand close to him. ‘Will you take our guests to the chambers I sent word you were to prepare, please? This lady is Mistress Babette—the lady I intend to marry—and Lady Harvey is the wife of Lord Harvey.’

‘But she is... They are...’ The woman stared at Babette proudly, as if she, too, resented seeing her here. ‘Yes, Captain Colby. Do you wish me to take them upstairs?’

‘Please.’ James reached out for Babette’s hands and held them. ‘Go with Mrs Brisket, Babs. She has been with my family for years and naturally feels uncertain for the moment—but once she knows you, she will see that you are just the person this house needs.’ He spoke in a soft voice that did not carry to the others, but glancing at the housekeeper, Babs knew that it would take some effort on her part to break down the older woman’s prejudice. Perhaps she did not like the idea of Royalists in the house—or perhaps there was another reason for her cold reserve.

Babs followed her up the wide wooden staircase, admiring the carving on the balustrade. Everything in this house was to be admired. It was the perfect home for any woman fortunate enough to come here as a bride.

She just hoped that James would stay here long enough to make her his bride. Perhaps when he was ready, he would tell her just what was in his mind.

Chapter Ten

I
t was more than two hours before Babette received the message that Captain Colby wished to speak with her. Maigret had been sent with the message, and Babette was glad to see that the girl seemed perfectly content with her place.

‘Shall you be happy here?’ Babette asked her.

‘Yes, mistress,’ the girl said. ‘Mistress Brisket’s tongue is sharp, but the steward is called Lewis and he has told me I am welcome here. He says it is time the house had a mistress and will be on your side if the old battleaxe tries to make mischief.’

‘You must not call her that, even if she is not as welcoming as we should like.’ Babette hid her smile, for the maid did not change and it was her forthright way of speaking that she liked. ‘We are guests in this house for the moment.’

‘You’ll be mistress of it soon enough,’ Maigret said with a cheeky look. ‘It’s plain to see that Captain Colby is in love with you.’

‘Yes, perhaps.’ Babette smiled, feeling happy as she went down to the small back parlour where James was waiting for her. He turned with a look of welcome on his face and held out his hand to her. She went up to him and took it. Still holding her hand, he went down on one knee in front of her.

‘It is my honour to ask you to be my wife, Mistress Babette. You know that I admire and care for you and I would think myself fortunate if you should answer yes.’

‘My answer is “yes” with all my heart,’ Babette said. ‘Please rise, sir.’ He did so immediately and swept her into his arms. His mouth was warm and tender as he took possession of hers, gradually deepening his kiss. When her lips parted slightly beneath his kiss, he flicked at them with his tongue, touching hers delicately and tasting her.

‘You taste delicious, like honey and wine,’ he told her and then released her while he reached inside his doublet and withdrew a ring of heavy gold. It had a small cabochon ruby inset into the gold and, as he slid it on her finger, she felt the snug fit, as if it had been made for her. ‘This belonged to my grandmother. I shall have a new ring made for you, Babs, but I wanted you to have something as proof of our betrothal. We are promised to each other, though we have not the benefit of a priest, but it as binding to me as if we were wed.’

‘James...it is beautiful, I need no other ring,’ she said softly and looked up at him, emotion flowing through her. ‘I have longed for this moment, though I did not know if the day would ever come when we should meet again. My brother spoke of wedding me to a friend of his, but I told him I would wait until Alice no longer needed me.’

‘You know that as your sister she is welcome to stay here with her child until her husband can come for her...’ His eyes seemed to glow with a deep passion and fire as he gazed at her. ‘I would that we could be wed before I leave, but the vicar would need papers to prove that you were of an age to marry, unless he had your brother’s written consent.’

‘I am past the age of needing it, as I would testify,’ she said. Her heart felt full of love for him, her eyes misting with emotion. ‘I would be your wife now, James, if it could be done.’

‘Are you sure you would not rather wait for Lord Harvey’s consent?’

‘I fear he would not give it,’ she admitted frankly. ‘I know that I must choose between my family and you—I choose you.’

He touched her cheek with his fingertips. ‘I shall speak to the Reverend Simmons and, if he will perform the ceremony, we shall wed before I leave you.’

‘Yes, please,’ she said and lifted her face shyly for his kiss. ‘We are at war, James, and neither of us knows if we shall meet again or when. If we could have a brief time of happiness as man and wife, it would mean so much to me.’

‘And to me,’ he agreed. ‘I thought only of you, but I will speak to Reverend Simmons and do my best to get him to agree to our wedding at such short notice. He may come here and perform the ceremony in the chapel. My servants will witness it and your sister-in-law, too, if she wishes.’

‘She may refuse, for she thinks I have betrayed her by coming here,’ Babette said. ‘But I do not care for anything but that we are together once more.’

‘I swear you are more beautiful and precious than I deserve,’ he said and kissed her again, so tenderly that it drew the heart from her body and made her cling to him. ‘I am the most fortunate of men to have found you.’

‘I, too, am fortunate,’ she said and her stomach clenched with something she dimly recognised as sweet desire. Her lips felt full and parted as she breathed deeply, betraying her need and the hot wanting within. ‘When we met I thought you arrogant and my enemy, but now I know how wrong I was.’

James smiled and caressed the side of her cheek with his hand, seeing the smoky passion in her eyes and knowing that she had answered his need with an equal desire of her own. How real and true a woman she was. Not a gentle child, as Jane had been, but a woman with needs and desires. She could match him and he could let his passion have free rein without fear of frightening her. At that moment his longing to make her his own in truth was almost overwhelming. Only his care for her prevented him from snatching her up and taking her somewhere they could be alone.

‘I adore you, my sweet Babs. I shall leave you to settle in now, my love—but I hope to return with the news that we both desire.’ He let her go reluctantly, knowing that he must see her safely wed before he indulged his need of her love. In war, anything might happen and he would not have her bear a child out of wedlock, for she would be shunned by everyone and named a wanton.

He walked away, leaving Babette to stand and dream until a sharp voice addressed her and she turned to see the housekeeper looking at her with dislike.

‘Lady Harvey wished to speak to you, mistress,’ she said, her hostility plain. ‘I think the child is unwell, for it will not stop screaming.’

‘I dare say the journey has upset poor Jonny,’ she said. ‘He is usually the sweetest of babies and hardly cries, but I think his napkin has been wet too often. I dare say you might know a recipe for soothing a baby’s bottom?’

‘Well...’ The housekeeper looked thoughtful. ‘I might—if you thought it could be of help.’

‘I am sure you have something on your shelves, Mistress Brisket—and we are so weary after the journey we should be grateful for your help. My father did not employ a housekeeper and it is such a help to have a wiser head when children are ill. I often felt the lack at the castle.’

Babette saw that her words had softened the older woman’s attitude a little. She promised to look in the still room and see what could be found to ease Jonny’s sore bottom. Babette had guessed right and it was possibly a fear of losing her place now that there were two women in the house that had made her hostile. Rather than turning her off, Babette would be pleased with her company, for she had much to learn before she could run this house as well as it was already being run. Perhaps if she could convince Mistress Brisket of it she could win her as a friend rather than having her as an enemy.

* * *

Babette had guessed right. Jonny’s bottom was covered with red patches and clearly very sore. His relief once the healing balm was spread on his tender skin was obvious and, after a feed, he stopped screaming and whimpered until he fell asleep.

Alice’s chamber was large, and the housekeeper had supplied a cradle for the child, also blankets and sheets. She returned with an armful of clean napkins and baby gowns, which she said had belonged to Master James when he was a babe.

Babette stayed with her sister-in-law until the child was settled and Alice had been persuaded to sleep. She was exhausted and perhaps her ill temper had stemmed from fear and tiredness.

Going back down the stairs, intending to speak to the housekeeper about the matter of clean clothes for her and Alice, she passed the parlour where she had spoken to James earlier; the door was ajar and she could clearly hear raised voices coming from inside.

‘That witch is not worthy to take her place,’ a man’s voice said furiously. ‘I do not know how you could think of bringing her here when this house was meant for my sweet sister.’

‘Damn you, sir,’ James said, sounding equally angry. ‘I do not slight Jane by bringing the woman I intend to wed to my home. You accuse me of forgetting her, but that is a lie. I shall never forget the love we shared, nor cease to mourn for her—but I cannot live alone for ever. I need a chance of happiness—a warm pair of arms to hold me at night and a mother for the children I hope to have.’

Babette flinched as she listened. Was that all she meant to James—just a warm body to cling to and a mother for his children? Tears stung her eyes, but she held them back. Surely she had always known somewhere at the back of her mind that James still loved his first sweetheart, but in many marriages affection and respect were more than a transient love that passed away after a few months. Yes, it hurt to know that he still loved Jane, but she could bear it—she would love him and hope that he gave her affection as well as passion. Of his physical need she was not in doubt, for it had been in his kiss as well as his eyes.

About to pass on, she heard James curse and cry out in alarm. ‘No, man, do not be a fool!’ Hearing the ring of metal strike something, she gasped and pushed open the door, staring at the terrifying scene that met her gaze. The man she knew to be Jane’s brother had drawn a sword and seemed to be on the verge of attacking James. He did not wear a sword in the house and could not defend himself from this unworthy attack.

Looking for a weapon, she saw the metal fire-iron in the hearth and dashed towards it. Seizing it, she rushed at the stranger’s back and brought her weapon down hard on his sword-bearing shoulder. He gave a yelp of pain, cursing as he swung round to meet her attack and thrusting his sword at her. Babette was not quick enough to avoid the thrust and it caught her a glancing blow across her forearm. Even as the blade drew blood, James gave a cry of rage and jumped at the rogue swordsman, grappling him from behind. One arm about his throat, he brought him tumbling down and in another he had stamped on his hand, forcing him to let go of the blade. He kicked it fiercely, sending it skittering across the room to where three male servants had gathered. They had heard the screams and come rushing to assist. One of them retrieved the sword and held it ready.

‘Shall I kill him, Captain Colby?’ the man asked, growling in his throat. ‘That devil tried to murder you—and the lady.’

‘Mistress Babette saved my life once more,’ James said. His eyes glinted like steel as he stared at the would-be assassin.

‘I think this is the second time you have tried to kill me,’ he said. ‘You may be Jane’s brother, but she would be ashamed of you. She was a sweet, gentle girl and she would be deeply hurt that you tried to murder someone she cared for—and that you should harm a woman...’

‘You drove Jane to her grave. She was nervous of marriage and you pressed her to marry. She loved you and so agreed, but it made her ill with worry,’ Melchet babbled as they dragged him away. ‘She was sitting in the rain weeping for hours two days before the wedding, and that’s why she took that chill. You murdered her and I loved her. I wanted her to remain pure and untouched. I made her promise...’

The rest of his feverish babbling was lost as the servants dragged him away, still shouting abuse until he could no longer be heard.

Seeing that Babette was bleeding profusely, James took the white linen stock from about his neck and came to her, wrapping it about her arm tightly.

‘Someone call Mrs Brisket—and fetch the physician to Mistress Babette.’

Feeling faint, but determined not to give way, Babette clung to his arm. ‘Mistress Brisket will bind me and apply her salves. There is no need to send for a...’ Giving a little moan, she fainted into James’s arms.

* * *

Babette knew nothing more until she woke in a bed that smelled of clean linen and lavender some time later.

Mistress Brisket was standing by the bed. She had been applying a cloth soaked in cool water to Babette’s forehead and she smiled down at her.

‘I told the master you would wake soon,’ she said. ‘You’ve slept the night through. The tisane I gave you has eased you, though I think you do not recall it, for you were very faint and hardly knew when I bound your arm.’

‘Indeed, I knew nothing of it,’ Babette said and pushed herself up against the pile of pillows. ‘Forgive me for being such a nuisance, Mistress Brisket. I have caused you a deal of trouble.’

‘Nothing is too much trouble for the lady who saved my master from almost certain death. I will confess that I did resent you taking Miss Jane’s place, for a sweeter creature never drew breath—but she would have been horrified to see what her brother did. And besides, my master needs a wife and children, as all men do.’

‘Yes...’ Babette smiled at her weakly. ‘How lucky I am that you have skill in the healing arts. I fear I have lost a deal of blood, for I feel weak from it.’

‘Yes, it is likely you will for a day or so, though I will bring you some good broth that may give you strength.’

Babette thanked her again and she went away. As the events of the previous evening played through her mind, Babette wondered what had happened after she fainted. What had they done with Jane Melchet’s brother? And where was James? He had promised they would marry before he left...but Babette was not certain she had the strength to stand, let alone be married.

She lay back against the pillows, fighting the desire to weep, and then the door opened and someone entered her room. She opened her eyes and saw that James was standing by the bed, looking at her anxiously. He had picked a delicate lily from the garden and, as she smiled at him, presented it to her.

‘Thank God you have no fever,’ he said. ‘I thought...I feared...’ His voice caught with emotion, and she knew that he had feared she might die, as Jane had.

‘I have no fever,’ Babette said and smiled at him, for he certainly cared for her, even if she was not the love of his life. ‘It was a glancing stroke, though it bled mightily. I am a little weak, but I shall manage to get up for our wedding—if you have managed to arrange it before you leave?’