Page 119 of Feathers in the Wind
Deliverance broke the seal and read the missive aloud.
My dear Mistress Felton, I assure you of the great respect I hold for you and your sister and our long relations with your family make me careful to prevent, if I can, any further inconvenience to you. However, my orders are to restore your castle to the good graces of His Majesty the King and you may do well to reconsider your position. Prince Rupert has taken Bristol and is even now before Gloucester, so that you cannot expect any relief from that quarter. If you persist in your obstinacy, I cannot promise to pay you the respect due to your position, nor indeed any quarter to those who are with you.
She looked up at Jack. “Is your father threatening me with the fate that befell Byton?” she asked, her tone glacial.
Jack shifted uncomfortably, unable to meet her eyes. “Mistress Felton. I had no hand in the fall of Byton. I was with my father in Ludlow.”
“Then allow me remind you, Jack. The garrison surrendered on honourable terms only to find the word of your brother meant nothing. Twenty-eight men murdered in cold blood.” She looked to Luke. “Captain Collyer can attest to the atrocity. Your brother should be called to account with his neck for such brutality. I speak the truth, do I not, Captain Collyer?”
“You do, ma’am. The garrison had surrendered on terms. Your brother ordered the men be tied together and their throats cut, their bodies flung in the ditch.”
The colour drained from Jack’s face, and he swallowed. “I...I...didn’t know,” he stuttered.
Deliverance decided to put him out of his misery. Tormenting Jack Farrington brought her no pleasure. She believed him innocent of the atrocities committed at Byton.
“Bring me paper,” she said. Melchior Blakelocke stepped forward, setting paper, pen and ink on the table.
Deliverance wrote her reply. In the silence, the scratch of her pen seemed to echo around the ancient beams of the hall. When she had finished, she looked up and read out what she had written.
Sir Richard Farrington. Sir, you have my assurance that I am a faithful subject of the King who at his coronation, promised to maintain the laws and liberties of the kingdom. I cannot believe that this same King would give an order to take anything away from his loyal subjects, much less my home. If you are set upon this path then I have no choice but to rightfully defend what is mine.
She looked around the circle of faces, doubt gnawing at her heart. Was she doing the right thing? As if reading her mind, Luke inclined his head, his mouth quirking at the corners into an encouraging smile. As she poured the red wax on to the sheet of paper, she thought of the blood that would be spilled in the next few weeks. She hoped the men would not see how her hand shook as she pressed the seal of the Felton’s into the wax.
She rose to her feet and handed the paper to Jack who bowed as he took at it.
“This is your final answer?” he enquired as he straightened.
“It is.”
He looked down at the paper in his hand. “You have my word, as a friend, Deliverance, that I will do whatever is in my power to see no harm comes to you.” His eyes drifted to where Penitence stood behind her. “Or any of your family.”
“Thank you, Jack, but I am not convinced your word holds much sway with your father or brother, but I am glad to know someone in the Farrington camp will speak for our case.”
As Jack bowed to Deliverance, Penitence stepped forward and Jack turned to her.
“Mistress Felton,” he said in a strangled voice and, bowing low took her hand and kissed it. He straightened, gave Penitence one last, lingering look, turned on his heel and, with Melchior Blakelocke and Ned as his escort, left the room.
Penitence gave a choking sob and fled, leaving Deliverance alone with Luke.
“Will she be all right?” Luke asked.
Deliverance didn’t think he referred only to Penitence’s current distress. He meant could she be trusted?
She nodded. “My sister is a Felton. She knows what is expected of her.”
Luke regarded her for a moment, his head on one side. “The heart is a curious master, Deliverance. It does not always listen to common sense.”
“And what do you know of love, Captain Collyer?”
“More than you I warrant, Mistress Felton,” he replied.
She snorted. “What you think of as love, most people would call lust.”
His eyebrow twitched, but he gave no other sign that her barb had gone home, until he spoke. “You are harsh, Mistress Felton.” His voice dripped with ice. “If you want to learn about what it means to love, ask your sister. One day there will be a man who will teach you the difference. Now if you’ll excuse me, there is work to be done.”
Deliverance watched him go. She wanted to run after him and tell him she regretted her impetuous words, but he wouldn’t thank her for demeaning herself. She sank back into the chair and rested her chin in her cupped hands.
Before Luke Collyer had come into her life, no man had affected her the way he did. When he walked into a room, she wanted him beside her. When he looked at her, her guts clenched, and when he smiled at her, she just wanted him to fold her in his arms.
