The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride. Anne Herries

with you himself.’

      ‘Yes, thank you kindly, Lady Graham.’ He had taken off his hat now, and Babette saw that his hair was longer than the style adopted by many of those who had joined the ranks of Parliament and were known as Puritans, because of their strict views on religion and private life. His clothes were of a sober hue, dark grey with a sash of yellow across his chest, a leather belt, which held a plain scabbard and his sword, gloves of buff leather and long black boots. His collar was white linen with a small edging of embroidery. Most men of the Puritan persuasion allowed themselves no ornament of any kind, perhaps to set themselves aside from the Cavaliers who delighted in finery and the latest fal-lals.

      Hurrying to the kitchen, Babette spoke to Maria, arranging for food and drink to be carried to the men outside. She poured ale into a pewter jug, set fresh bread, a small crock of butter, cheese, a cold chop of pig meat and a bowl of her aunt’s best pickles upon a tray, adding a slice of apple pie with cinnamon she’d made earlier that morning. Carrying it into the parlour where her aunt was still speaking with Sir Matthew’s cousin, she set it down on the table.

      His gaze went appreciatively over the food offered. ‘You have been most generous, mistress. I thank you for your kindness. My men will be grateful for whatever you have. We have ridden for several days, finding food where we could. Since we encountered the enemy in a skirmish some days ago, we have been without some of our baggage. Some householders have been kind enough, but others made it clear we were not welcome.’

      ‘We are at war, sir, and not everyone is of your persuasion. Some would feel you are rebels—traitors.’ Babette had spoken without thinking and she saw the flash of fire in his eyes. She saw a nerve flick at his temple and his hands clenched. He was clearly angry, though he struggled to control it.

      ‘The King is the traitor to his country,’ he said harshly. ‘It was he that imposed the tax of ship money on us, he that imposed the iniquitous Star Chamber—and he that tried to arrest the five members.’

      ‘He tried to arrest them because they defied their King,’ she replied, angry in her turn. Her head went up, and, had she known it, her eyes flashed in temper. ‘If the King needs money for a war and the Parliament will not grant it, he must impose taxes whether they be popular or not...’ She faltered as she saw the leap of answering fury in his eyes, then, aware that she had pushed him too far, said more hesitantly, ‘That was my father’s opinion...’

      ‘Then he would be for the King,’ Sir James said. ‘I had thought this household for Parliament—am I wrong?’

      ‘Take no notice of Babette,’ Aunt Minnie said soothingly. ‘She is but a girl and talks of what she does not understand. Sir Matthew, like many others, does not take one side or the other, sir, but hopes only for peace—though he will tell you himself, for here he comes.’

      She breathed a sigh of relief as her husband walked in and pushed Babette before her from the room. Only when in the kitchen did she speak to her niece.

      ‘You should be more careful, Niece. I know your father was a true Royalist and that may be your persuasion, as it may be mine, but we must keep silent, especially when there are men of another persuasion in the house, dearest.’

      ‘Yes, forgive me, Aunt. I should not have spoken so to a guest, even if I was angered by his views. It was rude and immodest of me.’

      ‘Your uncle might think it immodest and perhaps Sir James might find you impertinent, but I do not blame you—though I caution you not to speak so frankly before your uncle.’

      ‘Forgive me. I do not know what made me lose my temper.’

      Yet she knew only too well. It was the man with the eyes of cold steel who looked at her so arrogantly that she had wanted to strike him and had spoken thoughtlessly.

      ‘You are entitled to your own views, Babette—but it is best not to speak them in Sir Matthew’s house.’

      ‘Is my uncle of their persuasion, Aunt?’

      ‘I would not say that he was for Parliament. Sir Matthew is against any war that sets brother against brother and father against son. He cares for his land and would see it prosper. War is dangerous, Babette. Tempers rise and terrible things are said and done. As yet we have lived quietly here—but for how long can it continue? This is the first time soldiers have come to our door and they came in peace—but others may demand where Sir James requests. I think it will not be long before the whole country is aflame and then we shall all have to choose one way or the other.’

      ‘Yes, I know, Aunt.’ Babette was thoughtful. Her uncle had said little about the outcome of the first battle of the war at Edge Hill. The matter of who had won depended on whose side you supported, for some declared that it was a victory for the King, while others thought the men of Parliament might have won a decisive victory had they held on a little longer. In the months since that first battle there had been only minor skirmishes, indecisive clashes that had no real significance, small troops of opposing forces that met and fought. It had mainly been a time of recouping on both sides, of drawing lines and discovering who was your friend and who your enemy. ‘I know the castle of Haverston still stands for the King, but some houses are not as well defended and have fallen to the rebels.’

      ‘You ought not to name them so,’ her aunt chided her gently. ‘It shows your loyalty and may make you enemies. Sir Matthew has been careful not to choose sides publicly, though I think perhaps he may be drawn more to the side of Parliament, for he says they are the voice of the people.’

      ‘Surely his Majesty speaks for the people?’ Babette was puzzled. ‘Does the King not rule by divine right?’

      ‘It is certainly the King’s opinion and that of his followers,’ her aunt replied, ‘but I am not sure. Your uncle is not against the King. Far from it—but he would have his Majesty rule by the consent of the people.’ Lady Graham sighed. ‘Yes, I know, dearest, it is a puzzle to me, too. I know not what to think.’

      Babette made no reply. Her uncle was a studious man and he often lectured them about theology and, it seemed, the rights of kings—at least he had confided these views to his wife.

      She could not know whether her uncle was right or wrong. Certainly, she agreed with him that war was unfortunate. She’d heard that in some parts of the country marauding soldiers of either persuasion had commandeered grain, cattle and horses, leaving the owners without payment and in fear of their lives. Some who had fought for their possessions were left wounded or dying; it was indeed a bitter conflict that turned families against one another and set neighbours at war with each other.

      ‘I shall try to be careful, Aunt,’ she promised, ‘for I do not wish to bring trouble upon you and your family.’

      ‘I know that, dearest,’ Lady Graham said. ‘You have been a joy to me since you came here. Your cousin is still a young girl, though she does not like it to be said. I have found your company comforting, and you have helped me in so many ways. I should be loath to part from you—if your uncle decided that it was not suitable for you to remain here.’

      It was the implication, the words left unsaid, that shocked her.

      Would her uncle banish her to the castle? Babette’s heart sank. She much preferred life in this comfortable manor house to that in the bleak and often icy cold castle. The discomfort had never bothered her when her parents lived and her brother was at home, but without them it had become a lonely place indeed and she had no wish to return. Her days had been busy at the castle, but the nights were long and gave her too much time to remember and regret. She would take her aunt’s warning seriously and watch her tongue, especially when her uncle was near.

      Babette wondered if the Parliament man would complain of her to his cousin. As she helped Aunt Minnie wash and preserve the plums she’d picked earlier in the huge iron pan of sugar syrup, she contemplated the idea of being banished to her home. She would miss her aunt and her cousin very much. Hearing the heavy tread of her uncle’s step, she tensed, fearing his anger. However, when he entered the kitchen he was smiling.

      ‘Ah, there you are,