The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride

‘You need not concern yourself on my account, Aunt. I would never marry a rebel—and I do not care for Captain Colby. I find him arrogant and...’ Her words died on her lips as the door opened and she saw him standing there. He had carried Greta’s tray for her, perhaps considering it too heavy for the elderly servant.

While Babette’s cheeks burned, for he could not have failed to hear her comment, Lady Graham bustled forward, begging him to set down the tray and return to the parlour.

‘You should not, sir. It is not a gentleman’s place to carry for a servant.’

‘She is also a woman and elderly. She looked to be in need of help, so I offered. I beg you, do not scold Greta, ma’am.’

‘No, I shall not,’ she said and looked flustered. ‘But I beg you not to tarry. You must have more important things... Sir Matthew will want to discuss your business...’

‘I shall not keep him waiting a moment longer.’ Captain Colby glanced at Babette, his eyes so cold and icy that she knew he’d heard her and was angry. He inclined his head, his silence speaking volumes as he left them.

‘Do you think he heard what you said?’

Babette raised her head as she answered her aunt, ‘I care not what he heard. He means nothing to me nor ever could.’

‘He lives in a much bigger house than ours,’ Aunt Minnie said. ‘I believe his family to be wealthy—and they have been influential at court in the past. I must confess I was surprised to see that he was one of the...one of the Parliament men. I had thought he would offer his sword to the King.’

‘He says his Majesty is unjust and must come to terms with his Parliament and rule by consent of the people.’

‘Yes, in that I cannot fault him. But the King is...’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘We must not worry our heads over such things, my love. Your uncle knows what is best and we must abide by his wishes.’

Aunt Minnie was so submissive to her husband’s wishes, never venturing a contrary opinion, at least in Babette’s hearing. If every woman was expected to behave so meekly, perhaps Babette would do well to remain unwed.

She sighed inwardly as she finished stacking the dried dishes, then struck a tinder and lit a taper, holding it to her chamberstick.

‘I shall retire for the night, Aunt.’

‘It is early yet,’ Aunt Minnie said. ‘Why do you not sit in the parlour and listen to your uncle and his guest? Sir Matthew will expect it.’

‘Pray tell my uncle I have the headache and ask him to forgive me,’ Babette said. She kissed her aunt’s cheek and picked up her chamberstick, leaving the kitchen before Aunt Minnie could object.

* * *

Alone in her room, Babette went to sit on the deep windowsill and look out at the night. It was a clear, still night and over-warm, the room so stuffy that she opened the casement to catch a breath of air. As she did so, she caught sight of something in the bushes. Her room overlooked the kitchen gardens, and she was not sure whether she’d seen a man’s figure or not. Was it one of the servants—or perhaps one of Captain Colby’s men?

‘Babette—is that you?’

The sibilant whisper was just beneath her window. She leaned forward and saw the man hiding behind the water butt. Immediately, her heart caught with fright and then started thumping madly as she saw who it was.

‘John—is that you?’ she called. ‘Is it truly you come home?’

‘Shush,’ the voice said in a harsh whisper. ‘I’ve seen horses—they belong to the rebels we’ve been following. Are they in the house?’

‘Yes, their captain is,’ she said, leaning out of her window to look down at him. ‘His men are in the barn—nearly twenty of them. If you are for the King, you must be careful.’

‘Can you help us? We need food and water—and a horse. Drew’s was shot from under him and he has a wound himself.’

‘Do you recall when we stayed here once as children?’

‘Yes...’ John sounded hesitant, then, ‘The hut we played in, in the woods—is it still there?’

‘Take your friend there,’ Babette said. ‘I will go down as soon as the others have retired and bring you food and ale.’

‘Can you not come down now?’

‘I shall try,’ she said. ‘Hide in the shrubbery and I will see if I can find anything left from supper.’

Blowing out her chamberstick, Babette left her chamber and crept back down the stairs to the kitchen. She listened for a moment then, deciding it was quiet, went in. Aunt Minnie must have sent the servants to bed or perhaps on an errand, and she herself was probably in the parlour.

Seeing the remains of a loaf, a heel of cheese and the remainder of a quince tart she’d made, she gathered them into a muslin bag, then picked up a quartern pot of ale and approached the back door. She found it locked and was in the act of turning the key when the door opened and Greta entered.

‘Where be you going, Mistress Babette?’

‘I need a little air, my head aches...’ Babette saw her looking at the food. ‘I’m hungry. I couldn’t eat at table. Please do not tell my aunt.’

Greta smiled, revealing her toothless grin. She went to the table and picked up a slice of pie. ‘I shan’t tell if you don’t...’ she cackled and, tucking the pie into her apron pocket, she went back into the hall.

Babette smiled to herself as she left the house and began to walk towards the shrubbery. That was not the first time Greta had returned to the kitchen to steal an extra slice of pie when her mistress was otherwise engaged. Aunt Minnie knew she did it and laughed to Babette, for as she said she did not grudge her servants their food and the old woman might have asked for it, but preferred to raid the kitchen when others were in bed.

Reaching the spot where she’d seen her brother hide, Babette was about to call out when she felt herself caught from behind and a hand went over her mouth.

‘Be careful, Babs, those devils are everywhere. Give me the food and go back to the house quickly before they wonder what you are doing.’

No one had called her Babs since her brother disappeared and she felt the tears spring to her eyes as she said, ‘Where have you been?’

‘In Holland. I came to England with Prince Rupert to fight for the King. What are you doing here in a house of rebels?’

‘My uncle is not a rebel. He has not taken sides, at least until now—but the rebel captain is a second cousin. They are looking for grain and cattle and will stay here for a few days.’

‘God rot them,’ John said angrily. ‘I had hoped we might find a place to rest here. Drew is wounded and needs to rest. We were six of us on a similar mission to your rebel captain when a larger party set upon us. Four of my friends were killed. Drew and I escaped and came here.’

‘Take your friend to the hut... Wait.’ Babette bent down and quickly pulled off her linen petticoat, giving it to him. ‘There is a stream nearby where you can find water to drink. Use this linen to bind his wound. Tomorrow I will make a salve and bring it with more food. I shall tell Aunt Minnie I am going foraging for herbs and roots—and I shall do so, but first I will bring the things you need.’

‘Thank you, Sister,’ John said and smiled at her. ‘I’d heard you were here. I am glad to find you well.’

‘Have you been home?’

‘I know Father is dead. I told the King I would rather be free to fight with the prince than be cooped up in the castle. Lord Carlton will continue to hold it for us—and you should return home, Babette. I shall visit you there and bring Alice to you.’

‘Alice...your wife?’

John’s face relaxed into a smile that softened his features. ‘My Alice is with child. She begged me to keep her with me, and I did at the start, but now she is six months gone and cannot travel fast. I have sent her to the castle for her own safety—but you must promise me to join her. You will, won’t you, Babs?’

Babette thought regretfully of her aunt’s warm kitchen and her kindness, but her duty was clear.

‘Yes, of course, I shall now that I know you are alive and that you have a wife who needs me. I shall tell Aunt Minnie tomorrow, but it may be a few days before I can leave. Uncle Matthew may not be able to spare anyone to bring me home because of the harvest. I should need to travel with just Jonas as my escort.’

‘Once your rebels have gone, I shall come to the house and fetch you,’ John said. ‘I must go now, for Drew needs my help. Be careful, Babs—and tell no one that you’ve seen me while the rebels are in the house.’

‘No, of course not. God be with you, Brother.’

Babette had given him all the food she’d brought. She stood watching as he melted away into the shadows. Then she turned and started to walk back to the house. As she approached the kitchen door, a shadow moved towards her, making her jump.

‘Did I startle you, mistress?’

Captain Colby’s voice was somehow reassuring, though her heart beat wildly. Somehow she would rather it was he than one of his men—but what had he seen? What did he know?

‘Good even’, sir. I thought you with my uncle in the parlour?’

‘He had some business with one of his tenants—and I came out for a little air.’

‘As I did,’ Babette said and tried to pass him, but his hand shot out, imprisoning her wrist. His fingers seemed to hold her lightly, but in a grip she could not break and her heart was beating like a drum. ‘I pray you, let me go, sir. I would go in...’

‘Who were you speaking with just now?’ She could hear the suspicion in his tone and feared that he had seen too much.

Babette’s heart was racing. John had warned her to tell no one that she’d seen him and she certainly would not tell this man the truth. John had a friend he called Drew and his friend had been injured in a fight with the rebels, four of his friends already dead. The Parliament men were her enemies and she had no wish to speak with this man. Yet if she denied speaking with someone he would know she was lying and think the worst.

Lifting her head, she looked him in the eyes. ‘I do not see it is your business, sir—but I was meeting a friend, a man I care for.’

‘Ah, your lover...’ Captain Colby’s eyes narrowed, and she thought he looked angry. ‘Does your aunt know that you sneak out late at night to seek your lover? No? I thought not. Your uncle would not care for it, I think. He is a strict man and might forbid you his house.’

‘I intend to return home soon,’ Babette said, stung to anger. He would think her immodest now and for some reason that hurt and shamed her, but to tell him the truth would cause trouble for her brother and his friend.

‘You might have no choice if your uncle had caught you.’

‘As I said, it is none of your affair. I am naught to you, sir.’

‘No, but you might have been. I had it in mind to ask your uncle for you in marriage...but I do not care for tainted goods.’ There was a note of anger or perhaps disappointment in his voice as he suddenly let her go and swung away from her.

Babette caught her breath as he left her standing there. How dare he say such a thing! He was impertinent, arrogant. She would never have agreed to such a match. How could he even think it? Besides, her hand was not in her uncle’s giving, though of course her uncle might claim he had as much right as the guardian appointed by the King. Neither he nor this impossible man knew that her brother lived.

Her brother lived. Warmth soothed away the anger as she dwelled on the happy news that John was alive and here in England, fighting with the King’s troops. She smiled as she went back into the house, lit another candle and carried it upstairs to her chamber.

This time she drew her curtains and undressed, feeling ready for bed. Even though she soon drifted into sleep her rest was disturbed by strange dreams. However, when she woke they melted with the sunshine of another day.

* * *

Meanwhile, James walked on into the darkness, needing as he so often did the solitude that night provided. His thoughts were tormented, for though he could forget his grief for a time, losing himself in duty, when his work was done his thoughts turned always to the woman he’d loved so dearly.

His grief had lived with him for months, yet as he walked alone and looked at the stars, he could not banish the expression in the young woman’s eyes when he’d accosted her. She was startled, almost guilty. He’d accused her of having a lover. She had not completely denied it, though seemed outraged at the suggestion.

Why had he told her that it had been in his mind to ask her uncle for her? Had he wanted to punish her for being less than he’d thought her at the start? What had made him strike out like that?

Was she a girl of low morals? Despite finding her in such a compromising position, he did not believe her immodest.

Then why had she been outside and why did she not wish to speak of her reasons for being there? Was she meeting someone who would not wish to be seen by him?

Had she met a Royalist? In secret so that her uncle should not know?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine, for it would make her a traitor in his eyes...and yet, perversely, he did not wish to lose his good opinion of her. For some obscure reason, he would prefer that she had Royalist friends rather than her having been in the arms of a lover.

What was it to him what the girl did? James swore beneath his breath. She was but a chance acquaintance, someone he would never meet again. If he wished to wed, surely any gentle, obliging woman would serve his needs?

He had not looked at a woman and thought of marriage once in the months since Jane died. Why now? What was it about this woman that had made him suddenly stir to anger because she was willing to give herself so carelessly?

Damn him for a fool! He cared not what she had been doing. No woman could ever touch his heart again...and yet he would prefer to keep his good opinion of Miss Babette.

Chapter Three

‘It is a lovely day,’ Babette said when her aunt entered the kitchen and discovered her packing her basket. ‘I am going to make the most of it by picking herbs and fungi.’

‘What a good idea,’ Aunt Minnie said. ‘I would send Angelina with you, but she has the toothache. However, you may take Jonas if you wish.’

‘Yes, Aunt, thank you.’

Babette had known she would not be permitted to go without a servant, but Jonas had come to the manor with her. He was primarily her groom, but did any other jobs that were needed about the house. Babette could be certain of his loyalty, for she knew he would never betray her no matter what she did.

‘We shall not take the horses, for it is a nice day for a walk—besides, there may be other soldiers looking for horses. I do not wish my mare to be stolen, and it would be wiser to leave her here,’ Babette said. ‘We shall be home in time to help you prepare supper, Aunt.’

‘Enjoy yourself, dearest. You have taken some food to eat while you forage?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ Babette could scarcely conceal her flush, for she had taken enough to feed two hungry men. Aunt Minnie was certain to wonder at how much cheese and bread had gone from her shelves, though perhaps she would think it had been given to the soldiers in the barn.

Babette had been up at first light to begin the baking, and several loaves were already in the oven, waiting for her aunt to take them out. She had also made pies and tarts, which would take their turn in the oven when the bread was done. Even her uncle could not accuse her of shirking her work.

Before she began the baking, she had prepared a pot of salve and linen bandages. Besides the food, she had a sack of ale as well as a pewter bowl so that she could dip the cloth in cooling water; she would carry the water from the stream if John’s friend was still in pain and needed her attentions.

She walked quickly towards the hut in the woods, Jonas following a few steps behind. Stopping every now and then to pick something she saw in the bushes, she looked back to see if she was followed. At the stream she filled the flask she’d slung from her chatelaine. Once she heard a twig crack and waited, but then a shy deer emerged from the thicket, looked at her, sniffed the air and bounded away. Babette smiled. The red deer here were safe enough, for though they belonged to the common forest and were no one man’s property—not even in this case the King’s, as were most of the deer in the country—they were seldom hunted at this time of year. Only in the winter did the landowners kill venison for their table and they usually agreed to take only a certain number so that the stocks would flourish. Poachers were not encouraged, though occasionally Sir Matthew would complain that it was happening and sometimes an example would be made, the poacher caught and punished by hanging.

When they approached the hut, Babette looked back again, making quite certain that she had not been followed. Telling her servant to wait for her and to keep a sharp lookout, she ran towards the hut. Jonas had raised his brows at her, but he had not questioned her. Reaching the woodsman’s hut, she knocked softly and called out, then pushed open the door and entered. At once she saw that John was kneeling by the side of his friend, who was clearly ill. He cried out in his fever and threw out his arms, tears upon his face, as he called to someone called Beth.

Babette knelt beside him, placing a cool hand on his brow. He was burning hot and, as she looked at his shoulder, she saw the reason. John had removed his friend’s shirt, and his shoulder was open to the air. Where the flesh had been laid open by a sword blade the wound was red and angry, a thick yellow pus oozing from the deep gash.

‘How long has he been this way?’ she asked as she poured water into her bowl from the flask she had filled at the stream. She took linen and began to bathe the inflamed flesh, gently probing and squeezing to make the pus come away from under the hard crust that had begun to form. Her patient screamed out in agony as she did so, making John look at her.

‘Have a care, Babs. You are hurting him.’

‘I know, but the wound must be cleansed,’ she said patiently. ‘I know because I’ve seen Mama do it when one of the men sliced into his leg with a scythe. I must wash away the pus and dirt and then apply salves. I wish I had something for his fever, but I had nothing to make the mixture with. I shall gather the herbs and leaves today and tomorrow I will bring him a drink that will ease him.’

‘If he lasts the night,’ John said. ‘Lord Melbourne will be sorely distressed if his heir dies of a fever. He did not wish Drew to join the King, but there was no stopping him.’

‘He is Drew Melbourne?’ Babette looked at the man’s flushed face again and frowned. In his feverish countenance she had not recognised the young man who had once visited her home—and to whom her father had intended she be betrothed. His hair was damp and straggling, his chin unshaven and there was a scar on his left cheek. He looked much older than the man she remembered, yet he might be even more attractive if he were well. It was the heat of the fever that had given him such a high colour and his unkempt appearance that had deceived her eyes into thinking him a stranger.

‘You know of Drew?’

‘He came to the castle once when we were younger, do you recall? It was the year after Mama died and before you left.’

‘Yes, I remember, but I did not think you would, for you hardly spoke to him. He and I were out hunting most of the time and you were in mourning, shut away with your sewing most of the day.’

Babette acknowledged it was true, yet she had noticed their handsome guest and he had made her heart leap when he smiled at her once. Apart from that he had scarcely noticed her so it had come as a shock to her when Lord Harvey told her that he intended to seek a betrothal between them. She was not certain what would have happened had her father lived. He had told her that Drew’s father was a great friend of his and the betrothal had been spoken of many years ago when she was born.

‘Lady Melbourne and your mama put their heads together and planned that you two should marry, but nothing was promised. I have been lax in not arranging something before, Babette, but with your mama’s loss—and then your brother...’ Lord Harvey had sighed deeply. ‘If the young man is in agreement, I see no reason why you should not be betrothed almost at once and wed at Christ’s Mass.’

Unhappily, her father had taken ill and died long before anything was settled. Left alone at the castle until the King appointed a custodian, she had wept and waited, but Drew had not come to claim her. He did not even write to her, and Babette accepted that he did not wish to wed her. However, in her mind she had continued to think of him as the man she might have wed had her father lived long enough to arrange it—which was, of course, ridiculous.

Her patient had ceased to cry out in pain. The cooling water and the herbal mixture she had applied to his wound was easing the pain, though his fever continued to run high.

‘Beth...thank you, sweetheart,’ he murmured, a smile touching his lips. ‘I love you...’

Babette’s heart caught as she heard the words plainly. Now she understood why he had not come to claim her at the castle. He loved a girl called Beth, might even be betrothed to her. She felt a little pain about her heart, but it was soon gone for she had known that he did not wish to wed her and there was only a mild interest on her side. Had Drew wanted the match, he would have come to her after her father’s death. It did not matter, though she must eventually marry. For though her brother needed her at the castle to comfort his wife while he was away fighting, his wife would in time wish to be the mistress of her own home. It had been a pleasant dream to be the wife of the handsome Cavalier, but one she must put away from her.

‘He seems a little easier,’ her brother said. ‘You have brought us food—will you come again tomorrow?’

‘I am not sure I can get away again tomorrow,’ Babette said, knowing her aunt would think it odd if she wanted to go foraging again so soon. ‘Perhaps I could slip down to the orchard...either this evening or early in the morning.’

‘Come tonight. I shall be there when the church bells tolls the hour of nine. Did you come alone?’

‘Jonas came with me. I told him to keep a watchful eye.’

‘You can trust him,’ John said, ‘but do not tell him too much. Just say that I am alive and needed your help. The damned rebels would love to get their hands on Melbourne because he is important to the King’s cause. I cannot tell you more, but believe me, they would pay a purse of gold for what you know, Babs.’

‘I shall not betray you—either of you,’ she promised and reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘Be careful, John. Captain Colby’s men are everywhere searching for supplies. If they should discover you...’

‘I know. When Drew is able to ride we shall need a horse—but if the rebels have gone we shall come to the house and ask for help.’

‘I am not sure that is wise,’ Babette said. ‘My uncle has chosen not to fight, but I believe his persuasion to be for Parliament, though he speaks only of wanting peace.’

‘But you must return to the castle as soon as we leave. If you bring Jonas with you, you will be safe enough until we are with you. However, you must wait until Drew is better. It would not be safe for you to travel with just Jonas for company.’

‘I brought only Jonas and one other with me when I came here,’ she said. ‘Tomas Brown went off to join the King’s army. He told me what he meant to do and had my blessing—but Jonas is too old for campaigning, though he would fight if we were attacked at the castle, as all our people would.’

‘He loved my father well.’ John frowned. ‘I was sad to learn of his death. I hope our quarrel did not hasten it?’

‘Father died of a fever. He much regretted the breach and wished you home again.’

‘I offered my sword to a foreign prince to support Alice, but when the King’s nephew Prince Rupert decided to come and fight in England, I came with him.’