Page 137 of Feathers in the Wind
Deliverance counted. One, two, three…eight. They were safe but even as she dared to breathe, she saw the shadows of horsemen riding out from the village and heard a bellow of rage.
“Collyer!”
In the growing grey light of dawn, Deliverance recognised Charles Farrington, bare headed and brandishing his sword.
One of the fleeing horsemen wheeled.
Don’t do it, Luke, Deliverance silently pleaded.
Luke doffed his hat and swept Farrington an extravagant bow. With a whoop, he set the horse at a hard gallop for the safety of the castle, following the cattle and all eleven of his men as a hail of musket fire from the ramparts of the castle deterred Farrington’s men from following.
The gates crashed shut and Luke drew his labouring horse to a shuddering halt. “We did it,” he crowed, throwing his hat into the air.
Applause and shouts of delight went up around the castle and Luke looked up at the castle wall. Deliverance watched him with her arms folded.
She turned to the man nearest to her and said, “Tell Captain Collyer I would speak with him in the library.”
Without looking at Luke she returned to the residence by the curtain wall entrance.
He burst into the room without knocking. One look at his face, flushed and exultant, told her everything she needed to know even before he spoke.
“Two guns spiked and a dozen cattle, Mistress Felton.”
“You disobeyed my command, Captain Collyer. I forbade the sortie.”
His eyes gleamed in the early morning light as he took a step towards her. “Are you going to court-martial me, Mistress Felton?”
He stood so close to her that all she had to was reach out and touch him. His lips curved in a smile as he looked down at her. She raised her hands to do… what? She didn’t know. Slap him? Beat some sense into him?
“You are not taking me seriously, Captain Collyer. I am seriously displeased.”
He caught her wrists and drew her toward him, pressing his body against hers as he brought his mouth down on hers with a bruising intensity that silenced her half-hearted protests.
He released her wrists and her arms found their way around his neck, drawing him even closer as he encircled her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the moment. The scent of man and horse enveloped her, filling her senses. Desire overwhelmed her, coursing through her like a torrent.
Behind him she glanced at the door which stood ajar. Anyone could walk in on them. She stiffened, pushing Luke away from her, desire replaced with embarrassment and, if she was honest with herself, regret.
He stood looking at her, panting as if he had just run a hard race, his clothing dishevelled, his hair mussed beyond redemption.
“What are you staring at?” she demanded, her voice rising on a note of hysteria. “You were the one who ended it and you were right, Luke. We have to think beyond ourselves.” She looked away, hiding the scalding tears. If he touched her again, she would be lost.
“Deliverance.” His voice was husky. “I was wrong. I can’t hide how I feel about you.”
He laid his hands gently on her shoulders, drawing her toward him again. Deliverance summoned up the one weapon she had left in her armoury. She slapped him hard. He took a step back, his hand going to his cheek, as she gathered the last shreds of her dignity and walked out of the room.
Mercifully, the bedchamber was deserted. Deliverance flung herself down on her bed and curled into a ball, trying not to think about the look of hurt and surprise on Luke’s face as she slapped him. Tears pricked her eyes, but she fought them back.
She had done the right thing. If she had given in to her own base instinct, the fragile cord holding the defence of this castle together would be lost. The castle and its inhabitants came first. Everything else was of little importance. There would be time at the end of all this to deal with the complexities of human emotions, but for now she had to remember who she was and what needed to be done.
When…? If…?
She gave an agonised groan and rolled herself into a tighter ball to stifle the pain. Was this what was meant by abroken heart?
* * *
Despite their dire circumstances,a veneer of gentility required that Penitence, Deliverance, Ned and Luke ate at least one meal together. The shortage of rations had reduced dining to one meal a day, which they ate around noon. The cooks did their best, producing a stew for the midday meal that by evening would become a weak broth, accompanied by one small hunk of bread.
Deliverance poked at the gelatinous mess on her plate. Being forced to sit and make polite conversation with Luke after what had passed between them that morning caused her heart to clench. She craved his touch like a drunkard craves wine.
