Page 97 of Feathers in the Wind
Deliverance opened her mouth and her words stumbled out, the lie sounding even more unconvincing now. “Penitence is unwell. I came to see the apothecary.”
Charles looked down at the basket. “You come away empty handed, I see. Did the apothecary not have what you were seeking?”
“I...no...” Deliverance faltered.
Behind her she heard Luke’s sharp intake of breath.
Charles continued, “Dear Penitence may just have to wait for her medicaments. I absolutely insist, Mistress Felton, that you join us in the Castle as our guest.”
“No, thank you, Charles. I must get back.” Deliverance’s hand tightened on her basket.
Charles pushed past his brother, grasping her right forearm in his hand. As Deliverance tried to shake him free, his grip tightened. “Deliverance, you are not such a fool as to think this is an invitation? You, my girl, can now consider yourself a prisoner.”
She summoned every bit of her courage and glared up at him. “You have no right to detain me. Unhand me this instant.”
“I have every right,” Charles said, bringing his face down so close to hers that she felt his spittle on her face. “The moment you shut your castle gates on us, you forfeited your liberty, Mistress Felton. I am sure that once your father knows you are a prisoner in Ludlow Castle, he will have no difficulty in turning over Kinton Lacey to the King. Jack,” he nodded his head in Luke’s direction, “bring that man she has with her.”
“Nonsense, Charles. Tom’s quite harmless,” Deliverance said. “Take me but let him go.”
Charles jerked his head in Luke’s direction. “Secure him, Jack. I’m not the gull you might think I am Deliverance.” As he spoke he pulled a pistol from his belt with his free hand and levelled it at Luke. “One look at this man is enough. He’s no simpleton. This has to be one of your garrison, and you can only be here for one reason. Spying.”
“I’m not here to spy. I told you, I needed medicine for Penitence.” The lie became less convincing by the moment.
Jack drew his pistol and approached Luke. He lifted the rough leather jerkin Luke wore, exposing the brace of pistols tucked into Luke’s belt.
“No good with weapons, is he, Deliverance?” Jack cast her a hurt glance. “What’s your name, man?”
Luke’s gaze flicked across to Deliverance and then back to Jack. He affected a tight-lipped smile and shrugged.
“Collyer,” Luke replied. “Your servant, sir.”
Charles stiffened, releasing Deliverance’s arm and facing up to Luke. “What a pair of fools you are. Who is left at Kinton Lacey?” He glanced at Deliverance, his lips curving in a sneer. “That soft sister of yours and a few old men? It will please father to find I have not only Deliverance Felton but the scurvy knave—”
“Who whipped your useless men all the way back to Ludlow,” Luke cut in with a half-smile lifting the corner of his mouth.
Deliverance, forgotten, swung her basket at the back of Charles Farrington’s knees, dropping him to the ground. In that moment Luke launched himself at Jack, knocking the hand that held the pistol. The weapon discharged, shattering the window of the nearest shop.
Luke seized Deliverance by the right arm, and they turned towards the gate. Beneath her bodice her heart hammered and her lungs felt as if they would burst. Her shoes slipped on the cobblestones, but he dragged her on, his fingers biting into her arm.
Behind them she heard Charles shout, and the sound of other men’s voices and heavy boots on the stones as Farrington gathered his men in pursuit of the fugitives.
“Stop them!”
The crack of pistols reverberated off the walls of the houses lining the narrow street. Innocent bystanders pressed themselves into doorways, too shocked to obey Farrington’s command.
A fiery jolt ran through her left arm and she gave a yelp, stumbling in her headlong rush but before she fell, Luke had his arm around her waist, lifting her into the air.
“Fortune favours us. Up here, my lady.”
As the world spun giddily around her, he threw her across the bow of a saddle leaping up behind her.
A man shouted, “Hey, that’s my horse...” and the world went black.
* * *
Luke puthis heels to the horse and careened down the High Street towards the gates. The soldiers on duty, alarmed by the cries of their comrades, had started to close the massive gates. However, even the bravest was not prepared to stand his ground before a madman on a galloping horse, and leaped aside as Luke, riding as though the fiends of hell were after him, passed out of Ludlow onto the open road that led back to Kinton Lacey.
With one arm securing Deliverance, he forced the horse onwards, not daring to slow until he was certain that his pursuers had fallen behind. Only when he could find a secure place to rest the lathered beast did he stop. The horse, a fat, bay gelding that had probably never been called on to perform such a wild duty in its life, dropped its head, its flanks heaving.
