The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride (16 page)

‘Reverend Simmons thought it best to read the banns in church. I have decided to stay until Sunday to hear the first reading and then I will report to headquarters, but I shall ask permission to take some leave and we shall be married on my return.’ He saw the protest in her eyes and smiled tenderly. ‘I know you would force yourself to leave your bed if I would let you, dearest Babs, but I prefer that you rest. If you are strong enough, we will hear the banns read together, if not, I will hear them alone. It will be no more than two or three weeks at the most before I return to you.’

Babette held her sigh inside. She gave him her hand as he sat on the edge of the bed and then leaned down to kiss her. His kiss was gentle and without passion, but she longed for more. How immodest she was! If James could wait for their wedding, then so must she. It would be unseemly to insist on a hasty wedding since he seemed content to wait and would alter his plans to return to her.

‘It shall be as you desire,’ she said meekly and saw the light of laughter in his eyes.

‘Oh, how hard that was for you to say,’ he mocked her gently. ‘I know you for the bold, brave wench you are, Babette, and would have you no different—but in this case I think it best to wait a little. I should be a brute to insist on my wedding night when my bride was injured in the most foolish and yet bravest action I have seen in a lady.’

Babette’s throat felt tight. The way he looked at her now she could almost believe that she was the most precious thing in his life—but she knew that no one could replace his sweet Jane. She was not his first love, but perhaps she would be his last. He would come to love her, because she would be all that he could ever desire in a wife.

‘What happened to—?’ she began tentatively, but he anticipated her.

‘Herbert Melchet has gone,’ James said. ‘He has been warned that if he dares to venture on to my land again he will be shot like the mad dog he is. For some reason he blames me for his sister’s death, though God knows I would never have harmed her. He claimed that I pushed her into marriage, but it is a lie. She named the day.’

‘I think that perhaps he was jealous of her love for you. He must be truly out of his mind,’ Babette said, looking at him anxiously. ‘To try to kill you in your own parlour...’

‘I had only to raise my voice and the men would have come,’ James said, frowning at her. ‘Promise me you will not do anything so foolish again. I could have defended myself with a chair had I chosen, but I was shocked that he should attack me when he had been my friend. I hoped to talk to him, to make him see sense and put away his sword and make an end to this feud—but it will not happen now. He attacked you and I shall never call him friend again.’

Babette remained silent. She believed that only her swift action had saved him. No doubt James would have found some kind of a weapon had she not struck first, but Melchet had been out for blood, and James had had no sword. She was not sure that he could have fought off a man determined on murder, but she would not argue for it was not seemly in a woman to argue in such a case.

‘I promise only to restrain myself until I see that action is necessary,’ she said and smiled up at him. ‘Mrs Brisket is to make me some broth and I think that will restore me—enough to hear the banns read on Sunday.’

At least she would have two more days more before he left her to return to his unit. She prayed fervently that it would not be more than three weeks before he returned to wed her.

* * *

‘I have come to apologise,’ Alice said as she crept a little shame-faced into the room the next morning. ‘I said some unforgivable things to you on the way here and I am sorry.’

‘You were tired and anxious,’ Babette said. ‘There is nothing to forgive, Alice. I hope we shall continue to be friends—even though I know you do not wish to be here.’

‘No, I do not wish it, though I admit it is a comfortable home and I envy you your future life, Babs. Captain Colby is a gentleman—and wealthy, I think. I do not know how we shall go on. John has lost everything in the King’s cause.’

‘Perhaps not quite all,’ Babette said. ‘We managed to save your jewels and a little gold. It is enough to set you up in a small house until John can find some way of restoring his fortunes. If the King wins the war, the castle will be his again—and perhaps reparation will be made for Brevington.’

‘Perhaps...’ she said, a sullen look creeping back into her eyes. ‘But what if the King does not win?’

‘You must not doubt it,’ Babette said, though in her heart she believed that it might happen. From what she’d seen at the castle she believed the men Cromwell had trained were more determined than many Royalists. ‘As soon as John gets your letter he will make arrangements for you to join him somewhere.’

Alice nodded, but did not look happy. Having begun by apologising, she went on to complain about almost everything: she did not have enough clothes, many of her trinkets had been left behind and she did not like having to sit at table with men who were her husband’s enemies.

Babette listened and soothed her as best she could, agreeing that they would spend a little of John’s gold by buying cloth in the market as soon as they were able. However, there was no contenting her and she went away as sullen as before.

Babette sighed, because her head had begun to ache. She was glad when Mrs Brisket entered with a tray bearing a bowl of good oxtail soup and some fresh bread and butter. She set the tray over Babette’s knees and was about to depart when Babette asked where the nearest cloth merchant resided.

‘Is there a market where we could buy clothes? Most of ours were left behind when we fled the castle...’

‘I dare say there are trunks in the attics...cloth and whole garments. The clothes would need alteration, for they belonged to the old mistress, but I am certain the master would permit you to use them.’

Babette thanked her and ate her broth. It was tasty and warming and she felt better as the food filled her stomach. She had not eaten food like this for some days and felt glad to be somewhere she could be at ease. Her hands stroked over the silken coverlets and the soft fresh linen. How much luckier she was than Alice. It was no wonder that her sister-in-law was out of sorts, for she had lost two homes in as many weeks. Babette had come home and felt the surge of pleasure as she contemplated living here for the rest of her life.

How lucky she was to have found James.

* * *

Babette was able to get up that afternoon. She walked a little shakily to the window and looked down at the courtyard garden; it was much as she had tended at her aunt’s house, filled with flowers, herbs and the hives that would give them a wealth of the rich honey that was so important to all their lives.

‘Are you certain you should be out of bed?’

At the sound of James’s voice, she swung round, grabbing at the back of a chair for support. She was still a little unsteady, but better than she had been and she smiled at him.

‘I shall be able to accompany you to church to hear the banns read,’ she said. ‘I am getting stronger all the time.’

‘Mrs Brisket has made me aware of your lack,’ he said. ‘You are, of course, free to make use of any clothes or materials in the attics, but I shall order cloth for you from London—and a gown for your wedding. A seamstress will be fetched to make up the silk for you.’

‘I can make it myself if I have the material,’ she said. ‘I like to sew and it is something I do well.’

‘Then you may find much of what you need in my mother’s trunks,’ James said. ‘However, my wife shall have whatever she needs in the way of finery. I have money enough for all the little pleasures of life and you have only to ask for whatever you need.’

‘Alice is also in need of clothes,’ Babette said. ‘I am certain we can find garments that may be altered for us both—and if there is cloth we shall make new ones.’

It would be something to do in the long days and nights when he was gone from her. Even though he had promised to return and wed her, she knew that the visit would be brief. He would leave her again and again over the months to come, because there was a war he was determined must be won.

* * *

Babette sat beside James in the church as the vicar gave his sermon and then read out the announcement of their wedding. She knew that she looked pale and she still felt a little weak, but she had been determined to be here for the first reading. Holding James’s hand, she smiled as she felt the pressure of his fingers. He turned his head to look at her, his eyes caressing as they moved over her face.

‘Are you tired, dear heart?’

‘A little,’ she replied, ‘but I am gaining strength daily. I shall be well again when you return.’

‘Yes, I am sure of it,’ he said and held her hand so tightly that it was almost painful.

* * *

Afterwards, he held her arm so that she leaned on him as they walked from church. Outside in the sunshine, his friends and neighbours came to greet him and smile on her, welcoming her to their midst and promising to call on her. James invited them all to the wedding and a reception at his home afterwards, saying that the date was not set, but they would all be welcome when it happened.

‘I think you will have friends to make now,’ he said. ‘My neighbours are kindly folk and they will take you to their hearts. I am sure that the way you fought for me will have been heard in every house by now. I saw the admiring glances my friends gave you and I shall be envied by every man in the district.’

‘No, surely not,’ Babette laughed, enjoying his teasing. ‘I saw some very pretty young ladies in church...’

Chapter Eleven

B
abette stood and watched her affianced husband ride away later that afternoon. He had left five of his men at the manor, added to the ten who had always remained to guard his property. There were three women servants besides Maigret who had come with Babette, the steward and a score of men who worked either in the gardens, the kitchens or the various workshops that supplied the house. With Mrs Brisket, Maigret and the other servants Babette would be well served and cared for and she had her sister-in-law as her companion, but she felt bereft, as if cast out alone.

She was so foolish! Babette shut away the tears that pressed against her eyes and the feeling of despair that swept over her. James had his duty and like any man must attend his affairs, and she had a new home to order as she wished.

‘This house is your home, Babs,’ James had told her, holding her hands as they took leave of each other in private. ‘You must have things as you wish. Mrs Brisket has run it well enough in the absence of a mistress, but you are to be my wife and if there is anything you wish to change you must do so.’

‘Yes, of course, in little ways and gradually,’ she replied and smiled. ‘Mrs Brisket is a good housekeeper, James. We shall discuss what food is ordered and served and I may make suggestions. As for the linen and stores...well, as a good wife I must make lists and see what may be improved.’

‘I can see you need no advice from me,’ James said and bent to kiss her softly on the lips. A sound of regret left his lips as he drew away, and he looked rueful. ‘How I wish that I might stay here for ever at your side, but my duty calls.’

‘Yes, I know,’ she said and kept her sigh inside for he must take the memory of her smile with him; to cling and weep would only make the parting harder. ‘Go, James. Your duty is clear. When you return we shall be wed and then...’ She shook her head, because she knew that life was uncertain for perhaps years to come.

‘You will be all right here?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Babette said. ‘Your people are loyal to you and will protect me as your wife-to-be. Go with an easy mind, James. I shall be waiting and ready to be your wife when you return.’

And so he had ridden away, leaving her feeling bereft, but she must not let her unease show. Alice refused to be comforted and continued to grumble, despite the comfort and attentions that had been paid her. She might have been content here at Colby had she wished, but her face wore a permanent look of dissatisfaction.

As the little column disappeared from her sight, Babette went inside the house. Mrs Brisket had set the maidservants to polishing and the scent of lavender and beeswax met her as she walked into the small parlour she had come to think of as her own. Alice was already there with a piece of embroidery. She looked up as Babette entered.

‘Have they gone?’

‘Yes. James promised to pass your letter on. A courier will be dispatched to Oxford. If John is there, it should find him, but it may be some weeks before he can come for you.’

‘You will be married before then—if Captain Colby returns for you.’

‘James will return as soon as he is able,’ Babette said, struggling to keep the impatience from her voice. She did not need reminding that James could be wounded or killed. She had lived with the knowledge for the past year or more and her joy at having seen him, held him and kissed him would sustain her in the next few weeks. Despite Alice, she would not let herself think of the alternative.

James would not die. He would return to claim her as he had promised.

‘It is more than six months since John came back to me,’ Alice replied, a look of such misery in her eyes that Babette was touched. ‘I think he is dead. I think he is dead and I shall never see him again. I am alone with my son...I have no home...’

Babette knew that she was waiting for her to reassure her, but she refused to be drawn down that road. ‘John will come as soon as he can,’ she said. ‘Had he been killed someone would have come to the castle to tell us.’

Alice sniffed and blew her nose on her handkerchief. She did not answer, but bent her head over her needlework, the picture of dejection.

Babette left her to her work. She had decided that she would talk to Mrs Brisket about what was needed for their stores and whether an inventory of the linen had been taken in the spring.

* * *

Ten days passed pleasantly enough. Babette kept busy and refused to allow Alice’s grumbles and dark hints to disturb her. She joined her housekeeper in the kitchen each morning, and they discussed the tasks for the servants, menus and the various stores needed. Babette sometimes showed her maids how she liked a certain dish made, but she did not cook meals or perform menial chores, for James expected his wife to be a lady and the chaperon of his home. On warm afternoons she walked in her gardens, discussing the planting with the gardeners and making sure that they were growing the herbs and flowers she needed for her cures. She had begun to make one or two of her own cures and spent some happy hours discussing the recipes with Mrs Brisket, who was also very knowledgeable in such matters and did not imagine that her mistress was a witch for knowing them.

After their first hostile meeting, the housekeeper had unbent more and more and was now devoted to her new mistress and the child. She fussed over the baby, changing his nappy when he cried and giving him more attention than his mother ever had. Although she did not say so, Babette knew that Mrs Brisket did not approve of Alice very much, but the words remained unspoken.

It was on the afternoon of the tenth day that one of the servants came into the garden to look for Babette and tell her that a visitor had arrived.

‘He wishes to speak to you—and says he has a message for you, mistress, but I think...he seems suspicious to me.’

‘Thank you, Tom,’ Babette said, and her heart caught with anxiety. Who could the messenger be—and why had he aroused her servant’s suspicion?

Babette pulled off the gloves she’d warn to protect her hands, thrusting them into the basket that carried the herbs she had been gathering. She set the basket down in the hall and hurried through to the parlour. A man was standing before the window, his back towards her; his dress proclaimed him a Royalist and she understood her servant’s suspicion, for to him he represented the enemy. However, Babette knew him at once.

‘Drew Melbourne,’ she said. ‘What brings you here?’

He turned to face her, and as she saw his expression, a shiver went through her. She reached for the back of a chair, holding on to it as her head began to whirl and her heart raced.

‘Forgive me,’ Drew said. ‘I am the bearer of ill news and I wish I had not been...but I must tell you that John was wounded and lies ill at Oxford. I am not sure that he will survive long enough for you to reach him, but he begs that you will come.’

‘Surely it is Alice he needs,’ Babette said. All her senses were protesting, for she did not wish to leave the home she was coming to love. What would James think if she were not here when he returned? He would believe that she had deserted him. ‘I am to be wed soon—to your cousin, sir.’

‘Yes, I am aware of this,’ Drew replied. ‘James Colby forwarded Alice’s letter to us, as he promised you. However, Alice has little skill in nursing and I do not forget that you saved my life. I fear that John may die unless you come to him.’

‘I am sorry for my brother’s situation,’ Babette said, her chest tight with emotion, ‘of course I am, but I do not wish to leave here. You have no right to ask it of me.’

‘James will understand that you had to go to your brother. I know him for a decent, God-fearing man. In God’s mercy, lady, you cannot deny your brother when he needs you.’ His dark eyes accused her and she could not meet them, for he was right.

Babette’s throat was tight. She cared for her brother, but she was afraid that if she went to him in Oxford and he recovered, he would try to detain her there. He would not wish her to leave and return to James—and how would she make the long journey alone? Yet how could she desert her brother when he needed her? To do so would be a shameful act and lie heavy on her conscience. If he should die...

‘I know it is unfair,’ Drew said. ‘I will give my word that I will escort you back here when John has recovered—will that content you?’

Babette’s eyes stung with tears. She was being torn apart and it was unfair, but in her heart she knew she could not refuse his request.

‘Why did you not ask for Alice?’

‘You know she will scream and weep. I beg you to comfort her, Mistress Babette. You are so much stronger than she and she will need you in the days ahead.’

It was true. Alice would be little use at nursing her husband and, if he should die, she would be grief-stricken. Babette had no choice but to go with them.

‘I must leave a letter for James,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I will tell Alice for you and we will be ready to leave in an hour.’

‘Thank you.’ He smiled approvingly. ‘I knew that I might place my trust in you.’

‘You promise that you will return me to my home?’

‘I give you my word.’

‘Then I shall leave you, for there is much to do.’

Babette left him and made her way to Alice’s chamber. She was nursing the child and for once looked happy. Babette’s heart sank because she did not relish the task of telling her sister-in-law that her husband was very ill.

‘What is it?’ Alice was suddenly still, seeming to sense her mood. ‘Something has happened...it is John. Is he dead?’

‘Wounded. He needs our help, Alice. I have promised to accompany you to Oxford and help you to nurse him...and then I shall return here with Drew Melbourne’s escort.’

‘You are coming to Oxford with us?’ Alice stared at her, her eyes wide and frightened. ‘He is dying, isn’t he? I have known for days that something was wrong.’

Perhaps she had. Sometimes it was possible to know these things without being told. Babette felt guilty for having misjudged her, thinking her moods merely selfish.

‘Drew asked me to help with the nursing. I have given my word. Pack what you need, Alice. I must write a letter to James and then I shall gather my things. I told Drew we should leave in an hour.’

‘Then I must hurry,’ Alice said. ‘Thank you, Babette. I do not think I could face this alone.’

Babette was surprised at how calm Alice seemed. It was almost as though she had expected the worst and now that it had happened she was calm, even relieved.

Leaving her to pack her clothes, Babette went to her own chamber. She sat at her table and, dipping her quill in the inkpot, she wrote her letter to James. It was filled with her regret and her hopes that she would return in time for their wedding. She begged him for his understanding, explaining that she could not desert Alice and her brother at such a time. Her throat tight with tears, she sealed the paper with hot wax and took it downstairs.

Calling Mrs Brisket to her in her parlour, she gave her the letter and told her that she had been summoned to her brother’s bedside.

‘He is very ill and may die before I reach Oxford,’ she said. ‘I do not wish to leave, but I cannot desert my family at such a time. I shall return the moment I am able.’

‘I shall give your letter to the master,’ Mrs Brisket said. She placed the sealed paper on the mantelpiece, behind the large silver candelabra. ‘I shall draw his attention to your message, my lady—and if you return before he does you will find it there.’

‘Thank you.’ Babette sighed. ‘I am so sorry to leave.’

‘It is a sad thing for you and we shall miss you, but it is your duty to go. Will you take your servants with you?’

‘I think Maigret and Jonas must accompany us, but Ned can remain here. He is useful in the fields and has settled well. I shall not uproot him. Besides, I hope to return before Captain Colby comes home.’

Bidding her farewell, Babette went upstairs to finish her packing, and Mrs Brisket to the kitchen. Neither of them witnessed Alice as she entered the room in search of her needlework, nor did they see what she did there.

* * *

Half an hour later the small cavalcade moved off. Drew had brought riding horses for the ladies and Jonas drove the wagon with Maigret sitting beside him and the baby lying in a bed of cushions and blankets in the back of the wagon.

Alice seemed much more cheerful than she had for weeks. Babette had begun to worry for her brother, wondering if they would reach him in time, and was a little surprised to hear her sister-in-law laugh at some remark of Drew’s. She looked at him in a way that Babette felt was almost flirtatious, fluttering her lashes and pouting at him. Indeed, she seemed to have thrown off the sullen mood of the past few months, more lively and excited than Babette had ever seen her.

* * *

‘Are you all right, Alice?’ she asked when they stopped for some food.

‘Yes, why not?’ Alice said. ‘We shall be in Oxford and at last I shall have people to talk to rather than being cooped up in that awful castle. John told me that we should live in the manor house, but he broke his word to me. At least now I shall have some freedom...and I shall not have to live in a rebel’s house.’

Babette felt hurt that she could speak so coldly of the kindness and hospitality that she had received in James’s house. She felt uncertain of Alice, surprised at her manner and the careless mood that had come over her. She had expected tears or even hysterics, but Alice was cool and even a little excited to be travelling to Oxford. She asked Drew endless questions about it, the King and his court, as if she were going for a pleasant visit rather than to the bedside of her sick husband.

More than that, she treated Babette with disdain. Sometimes she looked at her with an expression akin to hatred or acute dislike. Why had she turned against her? Was it just that Babette had refused to go to Oxford in the first place, forcing Alice to accompany her to James’s home? What was even more disturbing was that she refused to allow Babette to nurse her son, preferring that Maigret should take him when he cried. At the castle and on their flight from it, Alice had clung to Babette, but now she had turned against her.