Page 84 of Feathers in the Wind
“Forty-five,” Luke replied.
Up close she had remarkable eyes; a deep cornflower blue. The sort of eyes a man could lose himself in, if the woman had been anyone else except Deliverance Felton.
These same eyes widened, and the corners of her mouth turned down at the corners. “Only forty-five?”
“How many do you have in the garrison at present?” he asked, with a sense of foreboding.
“Twenty-three,” she said.
Luke glanced at Ned. “Colonel Felton led us to believe the garrison numbered over fifty.”
“It did,” Deliverance replied. “But Father took the able-bodied men, and those left behind returned to their fields and to defend their own homes, particularly once Sir Richard Farrington started to send out raiding parties.”
“Sir Richard Farrington?” Ned asked. “The local royalist commander.”
“An odious man, even before the war began.” Deliverance shuddered. “Always thought himself superior to us. It is his men who have been camped outside our walls for the last weeks.”
Luke smiled. “You do not seem particularly worse the wear for the inconvenience.”
Deliverance met his eyes with a smile of satisfaction. “That is because we were well prepared, Captain Collyer. We could withstand a siege of some months if need be.”
“I see.” Luke looked up at the bare walls. “And your weapons?”
She followed his gaze and a little colour stained her cheeks. “Ah...you guess rightly, Captain Collyer. We’re not well armed.”
“We’ve brought fresh arms and powder and two small cannonade,” Ned said.
Deliverance Felton beamed, the smile transforming her face. “Oh, that is wonderful news.” Her eyes gleamed in the candlelight with the sort of fervour he would expect of a woman being offered the finest satin for a new gown. “Cannonade—”
Luke cleared his throat. “Are there other Parliamentary garrisons in the area?”
“This is a county that holds strongly for the King, Captain Collyer, but there is a small garrison held for Parliament at Byton Castle, five miles north.” Deliverance sighed. “Other than that, we find ourselves amid very unfriendly neighbours.”
Luke considered the odds as she had presented them: Two tiny outposts of parliamentary sympathy in a county professing itself loyal to the King. Did Felton really think he could hold Kinton Lacey? This Farrington, whoever he was, would have greater resources to draw on, and would return to swat this annoying little insect of a garrison at the earliest possibility.
He looked down at Deliverance and she returned his gaze with same bright intelligence as her father. The likeness was unnerving.
“I have the plans for the defence of the castle in my father’s library. I just haven’t had the men to do the work. Of course, now you’re here... Come this way, gentlemen.”
She set off across the hall, leaving the two men scurrying to catch up with her. At the screen, the tall man who admitted them stood in their path. He inclined his head to Luke.
“Your sergeant tells me the town is clear of the malignants,” he said.
“Excellent,” Luke said, allowing himself a small instant of self-satisfaction. There would be precious few such moments in the weeks to come, he suspected.
Deliverance regarded him from beneath her dark fringe, her hands on her hips.
“Captain Collyer, I am impressed. With less than fifty men you have seen off a force of three times that number?”
Luke smiled and inclined his head. “It would seem so. Darkness and a little subterfuge, madam.”
Deliverance turned to her man. “Melchior, I was just taking Captain Collyer and...” She looked at Ned. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Ned Barrett, ma’am,” Ned replied. “Your servant.”
“This is Melchior Blakelocke, our steward and my second-in-command.”
“Your steward is your second-in-command?” Luke asked, the ill-concealed disbelief colouring his tone.
