Page 36 of Feathers in the Wind
The summer weather continued foul and rain lashed the windows, bowing the trees and masking the arrival of a large body of mounted men until they were almost upon the house. The sound of bellowed orders and the whinnying of horses brought Perdita running from the parlour where she had been mending sheets. She narrowly avoided a collision with Joan, coming out of Adam’s bed chamber.
Joan caught her arm. ‘Don’t run, Perdita. We are not being invaded. Adam says he is expecting Prince Rupert,’ her hand flew to her throat. ‘The prince himself, here at Preswood!’
Before Perdita could ask how Adam knew the king’s nephew, he had arrived on their doorstep, the great hall below them reverberating with male voices and heavy cavalry boots.
‘This way, your Highness.’ Robin's voice could be heard above the general hub bub.
Perdita peered over the bannister. A tall, dark haired, startlingly handsome young man stood framed by the great front doorway, his broad shoulders nearly spanning the width of the entrance. He scanned the room with hooded eyes while he removed his gloves and shook the soaked cloak from his shoulders.
Joan made a shooing gesture. ‘Go and greet him.’
Cursing her choice of the oldest and most worn gown she owned, Perdita hurried down the stairs to where Bess had already taken charge of the situation, sinking into a deep curtsey before the Prince, apparently untroubled by the sudden appearance of a prince and thirty hungry young men.
‘Your Highness, you are most welcome to Preswood. I trust you will be staying for some refreshment?’ Bess said.
He acknowledged her with a peremptory bow, his dark eyes sweeping across Bess from her foot to the top of her head. Apparently approving of what he saw, his dark face broke into a broad grin.
‘Thank you, Mistress Clifford.’ His voice betrayed only the slightest hint of an accent. ‘My men and I would be grateful for your hospitality, but I do not intend to intrude on you for long. My business is with one Adam Coulter. Is he here?’
Perdita and Bess exchanged quick questioning glances. ‘Captain Coulter is upstairs,’ Bess said. ‘He is recovering from a recent wound.’
‘Take me to him.’
Perdita stepped forward. ‘If you would care to come with me, your Highness.’
With Robin following, the prince took the stairs two at a time, bursting in through the open door to Adam’s bedchamber without ceremony.
‘Well, Coulter?’ he boomed.
Adam rose to his feet and inclined his head. ‘Your Highness. It is a great pleasure to see you again.’
Robin made a sound that seemed halfway between a laugh and a stifled choke.
Rupert turned to him with a smile. ‘You are surprised, Marchant? I told you, your brother and I are old comrades-in-arms. Are we not, Coulter?’ He strode across to Adam and clapped him on the shoulder with a force that caused Adam to wince.
Adam rubbed his ribs and managed a crooked smile. ‘Indeed, your highness.’
Adam was a tall man but Prince Rupert overtopped him by at least six inches.
Rupert glanced around the room and strolled over to the table where Adam and Joan had been playing chess. He picked up the king and inspected it. ‘I owe a debt to Adam Coulter and one which I am now able to repay.’
Those dark eyes did not miss the quick glance that passed between Perdita and Robin, and Rupert set the chess piece back.
‘Ah. You’re wondering, perhaps, what debt it is I owe this man who wears the colours of my uncle’s enemy?’
‘I am curious,’ Robin said.
‘Some years ago, we fought together to try to regain my brother's throne. A bold time was it not?’ He directed this enquiry at Adam, who nodded agreement. ‘Until Vlotho.’ The prince's face darkened.
‘Indeed, your Highness. Until Vlotho,’ Adam echoed.
Rupert smiled. ‘I was eighteen. The blood ran hotter than it does now.’
From what Perdita knew of this young giant’s reputation at twenty-five, it must have been positively volcanic at eighteen.
‘I would have died rather than surrender. I recall I was surrounded. My enemies demanded to know who I was. I would not tell them. I just declared my rank… ’
‘And they responded “Mein Gott, if you are a Colonel, you are a very young one”.’ Adam’s laugh cut short, his hand flying to his sore ribs.
