Page 125 of Feathers in the Wind
“Captain Collyer? Are you up there?” A voice came from deep within the stairwell.
Luke jumped to his feet, with the speed and grace of a cat, hastily tucking his shirt into his breeches. Deliverance sat up, readjusted her clothing and began making a show of packing away the remnants of Luke's lunch, as she fought to return her breathing to normal.
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.”
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? 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 reachedthe dark recess of the stairwell, he took a deep breath. Even on such a bright day, the light barely penetrated the narrow embrasure. He sat down on one of the narrow window ledges that lined the stairwell to regain his breath.
He had no idea how he had managed to conduct a lucid conversation with the gunners when his body and mind were absorbed with Deliverance Felton. He groaned aloud and leaned his head on his hands. What had he been thinking? Deliverance Felton? There were other women in the castle confines with whom he could forget his responsibilities.
He took a deep breath and looked up. He didn't want any of the other women. He wanted Deliverance Felton, he desired Deliverance with an ache he hadn’t felt in a long time. He touched his lip where her teeth had accidentally cut him and shook his head. A virgin. Oh, dear Lord, of course she had to be a virgin. Her inexperienced touch and her eagerness had betrayed her innocence.
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. No, not her equal, her superior. 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 and heir.
As he took the stairs down the tower, he considered the practical aspects of conducting a courtship 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
“Have 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 a 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 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 check the damage.”
