Page 158 of Feathers in the Wind
To be reduced to such a petty, normal quarrel after all the weeks of tension made them both stop and fall on the bed laughing. Penitence insisted Deliverance should wear it and Penitence, who would look like a princess in sackcloth and ashes, had to content herself with her blue satin.
“You might have told me that you and Luke have been enjoying a secret affaire de coeur,” Penitence said as she attempted, not with any great success, to coax Deliverance's straight hair into more fashionable curls.
“I still don’t believe it myself. What does a man like Luke Collyer see in me?”
“Men are strange creatures,” Penitence, woman of the world, mused.
Deliverance caught her sister's hand and kissed it. “Well, your Jack certainly surprised me. I never thought he had it in him. Luke and I both owe him our lives.”
Penitence returned to Deliverance's hair. “Surely, Father can have no objection to our marriage now?”
“Even if Jack is cut off by his father?”
“I would live in a hovel with him,' Penitence said, her face serious. She yanked a lock of Deliverance’s hair prompting a yelp from her sister. “I think you need to ask your Luke about divided families.”
Deliverance swivelled on the stool and looked up at her sister. “What do you know about Luke's family?” When Penitence didn’t reply, Deliverance continued. “He told me his family has taken the King’s part.”
“Yes, but he hasn't told you who his family is, has he?”
Deliverance shook her head, sending a shower of pins to the floor.
“I give up.” Penitence threw her hands in the air. “He'll just have to take you as you are.”
She combed out the freshly washed hair so it fell back in a dark, straight, silken sheet across Deliverance's shoulders.
“Love has made you truly beautiful, Liv,” she said, dropping a kiss on her sister's head.
Deliverance looked up at her sister and smiled. “And you, Pen.”
Penitence straightened and looked at the door. She turned back to her sister, her eyes shining. “I can hear music, shall we go down?”
She took Deliverance by the hand and like a pair of young girls, they ran down the stairs, stopping at the Great Hall’s intricately carved wooden screen to check their appearance and make their entrance.
Deliverance had rarely seen the Great Hall so crowded. As well as the garrison and the household, some of the local men had retrieved their families. Trestles lined both sides of the hall and they had decorated every available surface with greenery and summer flowers. A makeshift group of musicians had installed themselves in one corner and a fiddler, Deliverance recognised as one of Luke's men, played a cheerful jig.
Sergeant Hale standing near the door, saw the two women first.
“Silence!” he bellowed, and all eyes turned to the door. “Mistress Deliverance Felton and Mistress Penitence Felton.”
A roar went up and a round of applause that nearly lifted the much-repaired roof off the hall. The crowd parted as the two women entered, allowing them their first glimpse of the officers of the garrison. A high table had been set across the end to form a U and they stood beside it, Luke, Ned, Melchior Blakelocke and Jack Farrington, all clean, and shaved, and wearing whatever passed for their best clothes.
Deliverance had eyes only for Luke. He wore the mulberry-coloured jacket and like the others sported a barbered chin. His hair stuck up on one side where he had been struck by the rock and washing and combing would have been painful, but to her eyes she had never seen him looking so handsome. Her insides turned to water at the thought that whatever tomorrow held, they would have tonight.
He bowed, and she curtsied, and the crowd went wild, whooping and thumping the tables as she took his hand. Luke's shoulders shook with laughter, pulling her in beside him. With one arm around her shoulders he raised his other hand calling for silence.
“We are here to celebrate a victory,” he said. “In the great scheme of things, it is a small victory but all of us here will remember how one little garrison held out against a mighty force.”
Another round of cheering met this statement, and Luke continued. “However we should also remember our comrades who fell in the gallant defence of Kinton Lacey and give due thanks to God for our liberation. Sergeant Hale will lead us in prayers of thanksgiving.”
Hale puffed out his bear-like chest and began the heartfelt thanks to God. As Deliverance had come to expect, the prayers were fulsome and lengthy. When he eventually finished to a resounding amen, Luke indicated for the food to be brought in and the celebration to begin.
The table groaned with roast beef and freshly baked bread. Deliverance breathed in the heady smell of real food as Luke poured red wine from a jug into the Felton's best glassware.
“Where did you find all this?” she asked him.
Ned replied. “Farrington's men left the private stores. Charles liked to live well.”
“And what is he eating tonight?” Penitence asked.
