Page 99 of Feathers in the Wind
She nodded and stood, swaying on her feet as he swung himself into the saddle.
“You will need to ride before me,” he said. “I can’t have you fainting and falling off.”
“I don’t faint,” she protested, with a touch of old defiance, a smile catching at the corners of her mouth.
“You have already done so at least once today. Put your foot in the stirrup and I’ll lift you up.” He swung her into his arms. “Comfortable?”
“No.”
As he readjusted her position, he reflected that the brief rest had done wonders in restoring her normal prickly disposition. She perched in his arms like a steel rod.
He sighed. “Relax, Deliverance, otherwise we are both going to be in for a very uncomfortable time of it.”
She cast him a reproachful glance and taking a deep breath as if this were the most distasteful thing she could think of, she lay back against him. Luke looked down at the dark head, resting against his shoulder. She fitted within the shelter of his arms as if she belonged there. He tightened his grip around her, and gently kicked the horse on.
* * *
Deliverance closedher eyes and let the gentle rhythm of the horse’s gait soothe her. Her arm burned but the pain was endurable. The proximity of Luke Collyer was more disconcerting. In the borrowed jerkin he smelled of man and horse, but not unpleasantly. She also liked the way his arms encircled her, and the hard cast of his muscles flexed against her back, as he guided the horse.
“Tell me more about Penitence and Jack Farrington.” Luke said, the tone that of the soldier not the man who had just held her in his arms and stroked her hair.
Aroused from her reverie, Deliverance forced her drowsy mind back into action. “Sir Richard made Jack break the betrothal once father declared his allegiance to Parliament. Take the right turn at the next cross roads.”
Luke fell silent.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“I was thinking Jack Farrington seemed a decent enough man.”
“He is. They adored each other. It is so unfair.”
“It is the nature of civil war, Deliverance. And now? Does Penitence still hold a candle for him?”
Deliverance didn’t answer for a long time. She hadn’t really stopped to consider how Penitence may be feeling. She had just assumed her sister accepted her fate.
“Penitence is a dutiful daughter,” she said.
“What sort of answer is that?”
“She accepted Father’s decision on the matter.”
Luke laughed, a low rumble in the chest against which her head rested. “Knowing your father, I can well imagine she had little choice but to accept her fate.”
A few long minutes passed in silence before Deliverance ventured, “I assume you are not married, Captain Collyer?”
“Me? Do I look like a married man?”
“No heartbroken girl awaiting your return from the war?”
“Oh, plenty of heartbroken girls,” Luke said, “but not one in particular.”
His arms tightened around her. She closed her eyes and let herself relax against him. For the first time in her life, she wondered if this was what it was like to have someone else to rely on or whether the giddiness was simply the effect of loss of blood.
* * *
“Deliverance?”
Deliverance’s eyes had closed and she slumped against him, a dead weight against his right arm. Luke put his heels to the horse and urged into a gentle canter. He had to get her to help.
