Chapter 3

She shook her head. 'I have no desire to kill men,' she replied, and then a note of anger crept in. 'Not like men who can do no better than make war!'

'You seemed very prepared to kill me when we first met,' he said softly. 'How long ago was that? Two days? The men went on without me, I suppose.'

'Yes, you ordered them to go to Bristol,' Caroline said, trying to release her hand, but his grip on it tightened.

'How long have I lain here helpless?'

'I never really wanted to kill you!' Caro protested. 'It's just - I detest all soldiers, everything to do with war! It has cost me - and everyone, so much,' she amended swiftly. 'Could you eat something?' she added.

She had no wish to answer his questions. He would fret himself back into illness if he learned too soon that Bristol had fallen, and she could not bear to examine her own feelings closely. Why did it matter, apart from her natural desire not to have killed anyone.

This quarrel of King and Parliament had ruined many lives. It had ruined hers by taking Peter's. It had almost made her a murderer. Yet this loss and the guilt she felt were pale emotions compared with the surge of relief and joy she'd experienced when Lord Ashring had come to his senses.

'I'll see what Bessy can find,' she said when he did not reply, and he released his grip on her hand so that she was able to escape. She hurried from the room.

Every day Bessy prepared delicacies to tempt his lordship's appetite, and today she had a herb-flavoured chicken broth simmering on the kitchen fire. When Caro told her the patient was awake, the fever subsided, she insisted on taking up a bowl of the broth and seeing for herself. Caro was happy to let her go. But it was a brief respite and she had not ordered her thoughts before Bessy was back, declaring gruffly that invalids were always crotchety.

'Nothing will do for his lordship but that you act nurse and feed him,' she said crossly, but a smile trembled on her lips.

Caro frowned. 'Why can't the stupid man feed himself? He seems strong enough,' she added, recalling his grip on her hand, and then blushed as she realised what she had said.

Bessie didn't appear to notice anything amiss. 'It's a good sign, shows he's on the mend, if he feels fit enough to go making demands,' she said.

So Caro had to attend him, but to her relief the slight effort of consuming the broth exhausted him, and he fell into a deep but peaceful sleep as soon as he had finished.

For several days he was very weak, unable to talk much, but in the end Caro had to face his questions.

It was the first time he sat out of bed. Jacob brought a large chair up to the bedroom, and Bessy fussed busily, arranging cushions, and making sure he was not sitting in a draught.

'You can sit here by the fire,' she told his lordship, bustling round happily.

He had other ideas. 'Please move the chair to the window. I haven't been able to see outside while I've been abed, and prefer to have a different prospect for an hour or so.'

'But it's bitter cold outside, a nip in the air to show winter's coming,' she protested.

'I shall be swathed in dozens of shawls like a sickly baby if you have your way,' he said with a rueful laugh, indicating the pile she had ready.

'The draught! You might catch a chill!'

'I shall benefit from a breath of fresh air, and I can move back to the fire if it is too cold,' he said firmly.

It was the first time he had used that decisive voice, and Bessy responded to the note of unconscious authority.

'You have a beautiful valley,' Lord Ashring said a few minutes later.

Jacob and Bessy had been persuaded to leave, reassured he would come to no harm, and Caro was alone with him. She had seated herself beside the fire, but he twisted round to look at her and gestured to her to come closer.

'Bring your stool here and sit beside me, where we can both look out of the window.'

Caro was reluctant, but his tone commanded her. She moved the stool, setting it down as far away from his chair as it would go, almost against the wall. She turned back to the table beside the fire to pick up the embroidery she'd occupied herself with during the many hours she spent with him.

To her dismay, as she returned, she saw that he'd reached over and pulled the stool closer to his chair, so close that her skirts would be touching his legs as he sprawled beside her. Gritting her teeth to still the trembling, she sat down and tried, unobtrusively, to edge further away. It was impossible so she attempted to concentrate on the chair cover in her hands.

'I love the valley. This house has been my home since my parents died ten years ago.'

'You must have had an aunt or guardian? You did not live here alone?'

'Lady Waring was my aunt, my father's sister.'

'Yes, I recall you said something about that, before I grew feverish. She died?'

Caro nodded. 'Two and a half years ago. A few weeks after Peter - '

'Peter?'

'My cousin. He was killed. At Braddock Down. She had been ill for a year or more, and it almost broke her heart when he insisted on leaving home. Afterwards she just didn't want to go on living. Not even for little James's sake.'

'James? I don't recall hearing the name. But I am so hazy about events while I have been ill, I could have missed it.'

'He isn't here. Peter's brother. He's only eight, and when my aunt died he went to live with his uncle - his father's brother - in Falmouth. He shares a tutor with his cousins.'

'Why did you not go too? I would have thought it preferable for a young girl to live in a town, with lively company, than alone here in an isolated village.'

'I preferred to look after the farm. Someone had to, and I felt it was my duty to Peter's memory. Besides, I do not especially like Mr Henry Waring, and he resented me. He was happy enough to agree,' she added drily.

'So your cousin died in the war, and your aunt. I can understand your dislike of all to do with it. But I've had no news, and Jacob tells me it's a month since I came here. What is happening in Bristol? Have you heard?'

'I'm sorry. It's bad news,' Caro said gently, and at the bleak look in his eyes she would have given her soul to be able to change the facts. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm.

'Well?' he asked sharply. 'Come, it won't improve with keeping!' he added when she did not reply.

'Prince Rupert surrendered Bristol,' she said baldly. There was no way of softening the blow.

For a moment she thought he had not heard, he was so still. Then he abandoned his relaxed posture, and started to push himself out of the chair.

'My lord! Don't! You're not strong enough!' Caro cried, dropping her embroidery and catching his arm.

'I don't believe it! Rupert vowed to hold Bristol! It's our only good port! The news is wrong. It must be.'

He sank back into the chair and clasped her hand, crushing it between his own.

'It's true,' she said quietly, wishing she could wipe the bleak, stricken look from his eyes. 'No one knows why, but there are many rumours - '

'Rumours?' he demanded. 'Rumours about the surrender? Then it may not be true!'

'I didn't mean that. It's true. No, there were rumours about why he did it. Some say he hadn't enough men, and surrendered in order to prevent more deaths. Fairfax permitted him to march out and go to Oxford. But others - '

She stopped, biting her lip. She hadn't meant to say anything more, but their closeness, the tingling that gripped her as he held her hand, seemed to have driven out her wits.

'Well? Tell me the worst. I am used to his enemies spreading calumnies about him. What are they saying?'

'That he was bribed!'

To her relief he laughed. It was a bitter sound, but better than the blank, withdrawn expression.

'What rubbish! Rupert cannot be bribed! I've known him as a good friend for years, fought beside him, and know that all he cares for is to save the King. How can they accuse him of such nonsense? It's another trick of the Parliament.'

'It's not just his enemies, from what we've heard. The King's men are saying it too. You see, while he and Fairfax were at Bristol, Parliament granted some money - I don't know the details, but it was a great deal, I believe - to his brother.'

'But the Elector Palatinate has been a pensioner of Parliament for years! That could not influence Rupert.'

'It's what they say,' Caro said helplessly. She was afraid for some reason. If he did not believe her, he might ride into danger. His next words seemed to confirm that fear.

'You say he's gone to Oxford? I must get well and join him there as soon as possible.'

'You can't,' Caro protested. 'You're not strong enough,' she added quickly.

'Not now, but I will be soon.'

Caro bit back her reply, and tried to turn the conversation. He made an effort to be polite, and listened to her description of how she had learned to manage the farm. To her relief, he soon tired and went willingly back to bed, but she knew he was thinking about it, making plans, by the abstracted expression which became so familiar during the next few days.

It was, however, several days before he spoke of it again. He was by then strong enough to come downstairs, and they were taking advantage of an unexpectedly warm day to sit in a sheltered spot in the privy garden.

'I see you had a visitor yesterday,' he said suddenly. 'A Parliamentary soldier, if I'm any judge.'

Caro glanced at him uneasily.

'John Culham. He was one of Peter's friends. He was wounded slightly, and has been sent home to Barnstaple. He - called in to see how we did.'

'I hadn't realised your Peter was with the rebels. But he brought news?'

She nodded unhappily.

'Peter was disturbed about the way the King treated Parliament. He thought the squires, the landowners, should have more say in how they were taxed. He'd been planning to enter the Commons, one day, you see - '

'I see, my dear Caro, that you are trying to avoid giving me news. I'm not concerned with your cousin's beliefs, but with the situation today.'

Caro sighed. 'Very well. But I don't know if it's true. We hear so many conflicting things. Apparently the King dismissed Prince Rupert and ordered him to leave the country. He also arrested Colonel Legge, who was the Prince's friend, and replaced him as Governor of Oxford.'

There was a moment of stunned silence, then Lord Ashring spoke harshly.

'Is this true, or is it a calumny spread by those damned Roundheads?'

Caro sprang to her feet, distressed at the bleak look on his face, and tried to cover it with anger.

'I don't know! I can only repeat what I've been told! Why do you always question it? Why do you think I'd be telling you falsehoods? How can I know what is happening in Oxford, or anywhere else for that matter! I haven't been there! And I don't want to go there, or anywhere but here, I want to live in peace! I despise every one of you! You've taken Peter away from me with all this stupid fighting, and it's nothing to do with us, with ordinary people who don't care a groat for Kings and Parliaments and - '

Blinded with tears, shaking her head to dispel them, she turned and took a hasty step away from him. But her progress was halted as he grasped her arm in a relentless grip.

'Caro, my dear, I didn't mean to hurt you,' he said softly, and forced her to turn and face him. 'Of course I believe you're telling the truth about what you've heard.'

She blinked hard. 'Why should I try to invent untruths? What good would that do me?'

He took her chin in one hand and forced her to look up at him. 'None at all. But if it comes from this Culham fellow, a Parliament man, can you believe him? Don't you see, it's just the sort of rumour they would spread?

Caro tried to twist her head away. Standing so close to him, her arm still gripped with one hand, and his face so close to hers, made her feel weak and uncomfortable.

'What good do they think it would do, to spread untruths?' she asked.

'I've known Prince Rupert for years, my dear, and it just isn't possible he'd become a traitor. Although he has enemies at Court, men who in the main are jealous of him, he is the ablest commander the King has. Without him the cause would be utterly lost. That's why I find it incredible the King would desert him.'

'John said Rupert was trying to reach the King, who was in Wales when it all happened, and by now might be anywhere,' Caro muttered. 'Now please let me go, you're hurting my arm.'

He released her immediately, but she did not move. Slowly he took her face in his hands again and inexorably forced her to look up at him. There was hurt in her eyes, as well as anger. With a gentle finger he brushed away a tear which trembled on her lashes, and then pulled her to him, his arms urgent as they encircled her.

'I'm a brute. I shouldn't have let my surprise affect you, my dearest Caro. My little love, I can't bear to see you so unhappy. Say I'm forgiven.'

She was trembling, for she had never before been so close to a man. Not even Peter had done more than give her a brotherly hug. She was afraid, but at the same time realised this was something she had been waiting for, since the moment she'd seen him lying unconscious on the bed, blood streaming from the cut on his scalp. Maybe, her thoughts whirled uncontrollably, since she'd seen him entering the garden where they now stood.

As he bent to kiss her she sighed, trustingly offered up her lips, and without thought raised her arms to clasp him tighter.

***