Free Her Rebel Heart by Alison Stuart Page A

removing the sling.
    He bowed low to her and offered her his arm. For a moment she hesitated, glancing at Penitence who just smiled.

    As they walked out of the residence into the mellow afternoon sun, a shout went up. The entire garrison had gathered in the courtyard and were clapping and cheering. Deliverance cast a questioning glance at Luke. He smiled and shook his head, gently disengaging her arm and standing back, leaving her alone at the top of the stairs.
    Sergeant Hale disengaged himself from the crowd and climbed the stairs to her, one hand behind his back.
    As he stood before her he drew the hand out, and thrust a bunch of meadow flowers, already wilting, at her. She took them in her good hand and looked up at the huge barrel-chested man.
    “Thank you, but I don't know what I have done to deserve this.”
    Hale whipped his hat off his head and stood turning it in his huge hands. “Lady, 'twas a brave thing you did and we,” he indicated the entire garrison, “want you to know that you has our loyalty, to a man.”
    Deliverance scanned the disreputable ranks of unshaven men, still covered in dirt from their day's work on the defences.
    She cleared her throat and looked down at the nosegay, the scent of the meadow sweetening the air around her. A lump rose in her throat and she swallowed it down. Tears were not appropriate at this moment.
    With an effort she looked up and spoke, keeping her voice strong and clear. “Thank you, all of you. What I learned on our reconnaissance to Ludlow is that we will be faced with great adversity over the coming weeks, and there will be times when we will need all the strength God gave us. It heartens me to know that we have such loyal men beside us.”
    “Amen!” Sgt Hale declared. “Let us join together in prayer for the safe delivery of this castle from the hands of the foul fiends.”
    When the seemingly interminable prayer had ended, Luke stepped forward. “Enough. Back to work all of you.”
    The men dispersed and Deliverance looked down at the wilted flowers in her hand. “I didn't expect this,” she said in a small, quiet voice.
    “That is why it is important,” Luke said. “Those men will die for you now.”
    She looked back at the empty courtyard and sighed. “They shouldn't have to. They should be home with their own families, bringing in the harvest.”
    “That is the tragedy of war.”
    Luke took the flowers from her hand and handed them to one of the maids who had come out of the residence with a bucket of water.
    “Put these in Mistress Felton’s chamber, girl.” He crooked his elbow. “Now, Mistress Felton, about that walk.”

    As they strolled out of the castle, Luke glanced at his companion. He had ample opportunity to study her face on the long, fraught ride back from Ludlow. In the dark of the largely sleepless night that followed their safe return he had reached the conclusion that while she paled in the shadow of her classically-beautiful younger sister, there was strength of character in her strong jaw and determination and intelligence in her bright eyes and the curve of her mouth.
    For some reason, he had never had cause to consider before, he found those characteristics infinitely more attractive than Penitence's oval face, blue eyes and golden curls.
    “You seem remarkably well-armed for a pleasant stroll by the river,” Deliverance remarked.
    Luke rested his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword. “It would be pleasant not to take such precautions, but with Farrington practically on our doorstep, I would prefer not to take unnecessary risks.”
    He allowed her to lead the way and they took the gentle path that meandered down the side of the hill towards the river.
    Luke looked up at the east wall of the castle towering above them, searching out the one weakness in the wall, the sally port, the secret entrance to the castle. Deliverance followed his gaze.
    “What are you looking at?”
    “I was trying to see where the sally port is.