Page 47 of Feathers in the Wind
‘Rupert? Here? At the behest of Adam Coulter?’ Simon’s tired eyes came to life.
Perdita smiled and nodded. ‘Would I lie?’
‘Well, I'll be damned. As I said, strange times indeed.’
‘I might add that the prince is every bit as impressive as his legend.’
Simon nodded. ‘He has the women swooning at his feet.’ He leaned forward and took her hands in his. ‘Perdita, this damnable war is set to continue for some time yet.’
‘So it would seem, Simon.’
He looked wretched. ‘I have no way of knowing when I can be with you. Are you sure you want to go through with this wedding?’
‘Of course I do,’ she said fiercely and forced herself to laugh. ‘Anyway, it is too late, Simon. The tailor has been sent for and the dress is ordered.’
He smiled at last. ‘The dress, eh? Tell me about it?’
‘Midnight blue damask. It will be quite the most beautiful dress I have ever owned and I will not see it lie in a chest, waiting for you to make up your mind exactly when we are to be wed.’
‘Colonel Compton seems happy to grant me a few days leave at Christmas time. It will be very quiet, Perdita. Although I have invited Will Compton. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Of course not. I’m not one for large pageants, Simon.’
He frowned. ‘Now tell me about this Robin Marchant? From the way Bess talks of him, do I detect that they have developed something of a liaison?’
‘Thrown together for weeks as they were, what do you expect?’
‘Perdita. I trust you saw that nothing improper occurred.’
Perdita smiled. ‘I could not be with them all the time.’
Simon huffed. ‘I always said Bess had the right to choose. I would never force her to marry against her will. Now am I supposed to approve or disapprove?
‘What a question. Robin is a delightful young man who could have the choice of any court beauty he wishes, but he has chosen Bess.’
‘It is just that everything to do with the Marchants seems so difficult.’
‘I think Robin is the exception.’
‘Then perhaps it would be sensible if I were to have an opportunity to talk with him. When next I’m in Oxford I’ll seek him out.’ Simon rose wearily to his feet. ‘I must get to my bed. I’m expected back in Banbury tomorrow.’ He pulled her to her feet, and stood facing her, holding her hands in his. ‘Only a few months, Perdita, and we will be man and wife. It seems like a dream.’
He leaned forward and kissed her, a hesitant, chaste kiss. Perdita waited for the answering tide of passion that had swept over her when Adam had taken her in his arms but it did not come. She laid her head against Simon’s shoulder and the guilt trickled from her in her tears. She knew Simon would mistake them for sadness at his departure. Let him think that. She would marry him and forget what might have been with Adam Coulter.
Chapter 10
Preswood Hall, 15 December 1643
Winter came and the campaigning slowed, lost in mud, rain and snow, but at Preswood, a sense of anticipation had begun to build as the day of Perdita and Simon’s wedding approached. They had decided on the 20th of December with the hope that Simon would be able to stay long enough to enjoy Christmas.
With the cold, the women had abandoned the great parlour for the smaller, more easily warmed downstairs parlour where they passed the days when not busy with household chores. Joan kept to her own chamber and Bess confided that Joan was working on a painting, a wedding present, and was anxious to have it finished before the day.
Bess and Perdita were engaged on stitching a fine piece of linen Bess had found in an old chest to make a table cloth. The peremptory fall of the great brass door knocker made them both jump and even before Ludovic appeared at the door of the parlour with a mud-spattered courier, wearing the regimental blue of Simon’s regiment, Perdita knew he brought only bad news.
The soldier bowed and held out a letter.
‘I have a message for thee, Mistress Gray, from Colonel Compton.’
Perdita took the letter, her heart pounding beneath her bodice. She thanked him and told Ludovic to see that the soldier received refreshment in the kitchen.
