Free Her Rebel Heart by Alison Stuart Page B

It’s completely concealed from this angle.”
    “Well it wouldn't be a very good sally port if it was quite so obvious,” Deliverance smiled. “You see that large outcrop of rock,” she pointed. “It is behind there.”
    “So how do you get down that cliff? It's almost sheer.”
    Her generous mouth curved in a conspiratorial smile. “Oh there's quite a safe path if you know where to look but I don't think you need to worry about it, I can't see a force attacking up it.”
    “Maybe not, but I should set a guard on it. It is still a vulnerable place in the wall of the castle.”
    They reached the river, where a weir had been constructed to turn the castle mill, and struck out to the north along a narrow wooded path.
    “Where are you from, Captain Collyer?” Deliverance asked.
    “Warwickshire,” Luke replied in the clipped tone he reserved for occasions where he didn't wish to encourage any further conversation.
    He should have known better. Undeterred Deliverance continued, “And what of your family?”
    “What about them?”
    “Do they fight with you for parliament's cause?”
    Luke hesitated before replying, his silence giving the answer.
    Deliverance stopped and looked at him, her eyes wide. “They don’t! Your family is divided?”
    He swallowed. “My family was divided long before the war, Mistress Felton. My father and my brother fight for the King.”
    She narrowed her eyes and studied him. “So, is Collyer even your real name?”
    Luke looked up at the trees above him. “You ask a lot of questions. My family is not your concern.”
    Her cheeks coloured and she looked down at the ground. “Sorry. My mother always used to say my curiosity would get the better of me.”
    Luke quickened his stride. No one, except Ned, knew his antecedents and, in his opinion, that was already one person too many but he owed her his trust and he knew whatever confidence he shared with her would go no further.
    “I was christened Lucius,” he said.
    That was half the truth. He had been christened Lucius William Absalom Harcourt. His father, Viscount Harcourt, had been a close confidante of the King and when the irretrievable rift between himself and his family had occurred, he had deemed it prudent to adopt a new identity. He didn't need or want his father's name to play a part in this war.
    She stopped and stared at him, a smile curving her lips. When she smiled her eyes seemed to light up. He wished she smiled more often.
    “Lucius?”
    “Lucius.”
    She shook her head. “Oh, no. That doesn't suit you at all. Lucius demands a much grander surname than Collyer. You are not a Lucius.”
    How right, he thought. Lucius Harcourt was another person all together.
    They had reached a curve in the river where willows and elms reached down to a still, deep pool. The fisherman in Luke told him that some magnificent specimens would lurk in its dark recesses. In a more peaceful time there would be nothing he would like better than to drowse away an afternoon at such a spot with a rod and a good companion.
    Beside him Deliverance stopped, wrapping her arms around herself. Glancing down, he saw something glisten on her eyelash. A tear?
    “Drat these cursed midges!” Deliverance unsuccessfully tried to dash the tears from her eyes while pretending to swat midges. She probably hoped he didn't notice.
    His mother’s propensity to tears at the slightest provocation had inured him to a woman’s tears but in Deliverance, tears seemed so out of character.
    “Deliverance?” He laid a hand on her shoulder.
    She swallowed. “My brother died here. He came swimming on a warm, summer day like today and...and...he drowned.”
    Luke stared at her. He had not expected such a confidence. He looked across the still, deep pool, seeing the beautiful place through her eyes as a dark and foreboding place of grief and tragedy.
    “I'm sorry,” he said. “How old was he?”
    “Thirteen. He...he was my twin. My mother was grief-stricken. She