Feathers in the Wind Book 2
Strickland Castle
11 August 1644
From somewhere beyond the window the sweet chirruping song of a thrush lifted into the clear blue sky. Adam lay with one hand behind his head and the other around the sleeping woman who lay curled up against him, her head in his shoulder. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight that pierced the old mullion windows and in that moment, he thought it could not be possible to be so completely content.
The song of the thrush died away as did his idyll. It could never be anything more than just a dream, a moment of peace in a world wracked by war. In their weeks of snatched happiness, the too short days and nights, they had roamed the estate, talking with the tenants, exploring the hidden corners. Discovering the beauty of this wild northern land, so foreign to both. Learning about each other…
He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at his wife. Perdita's lips were carved in a gentle smile and her eyelashes fluttered on her cheek.
His wife, his wife... he played with the words, turning them over in his mind. His wife, his soul mate. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the heart aching happiness of binding oneself to another.
"Is whispering nothing? Is leaning cheek to cheek? Is meeting noses? Kissing with inside lip? Stopping the career of laughter with a sigh? ...My is nothing; nor nothing have these nothings, if this be nothing."
He murmured the well-remembered words from Shakespeare as he caressed the soft flesh of her shoulder with his thumb. She twitched but did not wake. Lying back down, he drew her in closer to him and closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet smell of the woman in his arms.
As if conjuring up the demons of the outside world, the thud of a horse ridden hard approached down the lane, followed by a heavy fist pounding on the outside door, startled him into full wakefulness.
The noise woke Perdita who sat up, her eyes widening.
'What...?'
'It seems we have a visitor,' Adam replied. 'I fear the time has come for us to return to the world.' He dropped a kiss on the upturned end of her nose and with a heavy sigh, slipped out from the under the bedclothes.
Downstairs in the kitchen, a heavily armed trooper sat at the table partaking of bread and cheese. Seeing Adam, he struggled to his feet and saluted smartly. A grin broke out over the friendly, familiar face of Corporal Jeremiah Webster.
‘Sir!’
Adam waved him back down again. 'Finish breaking your fast, Webster and tell me what brings you here.'
Webster's face sobered.
'Black Tom took a musket ball in the shoulder. It's shattered his arm. It's afeared he won't live.'
Adam sank on to a chair. 'Bad news indeed,' he said. 'Where is he?'
'They've taken him to his home in York and sent for Lady Anne but she's in London and not like to arrive for some time.'
'Who's in command?'
'Colonel Lambert. He sent this note for 'ee.'
Adam broke the seal and scanned the brief comments.
Fairfax is badly wounded and the time could not be worse. Helmsley will fall within the week. They've no more supplies and our intelligence tells us that conditions inside are dire. I need you back in Yorkshire ready to take your men and march on Scarborough Castle. Time is wasting, Coulter, make haste. Lambert
Perdita, her hair unbound, leaned on his shoulder, reading the note. 'How bad is the General?'
Webster's mouth tightened. 'Bad, mistress.' The man cleared his throat. 'Surgeon says he'd rather have Mistress Coulter's hands than anyone else so if ye've a mind to come south again, your help is needed.'
Perdita glanced at Adam. They had discussed her staying on here at Strickland but sheer amount of work required to make the place habitable for winter required men and money. They had neither. In that moment he knew the decision had been made for them. He pushed himself away from the table and held out his hand to Perdita.
‘We will be ready to ride with you within the hour, Corporal,' he said.
Adam and Perdita’s story continues in
(Feathers in the Wind Book 2)
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