Marriage Under Siege (17 page)

But, by God, he had to
admire her spirit in facing him, staring him down, pinning him with forthright
words, as accurate and deadly as the pistol ball that had penetrated his
shoulder. He grinned suddenly at the distant sound as her heels made contact
with the stone floor of the Great Hall, their staccato beat clearly expressing
her anger. At least he had had the sense not to smile in her presence.
Unfortunately, the only sense he had shown!

He left the documents
spread over the floor to go and make his peace with his irate wife. And find
out exactly what had been happening in his absence. If there was only half the
truth in Honoria's abbreviated account, there had been trouble enough. A ripple
of disquiet sent him to discover the truth.

He could not find Honoria.

By the time he had made his
way more slowly into the Great Hall she had vanished. Instead Foxton found him.

'The delivery of shot and
powder, my lord. From Worcester. We have stored the boxes in the cellars. Some
of the gunpowder is yet to be delivered, but we expect it daily. It is
necessary to look to our supply of muskets, however. We are in dire need. My
lady thought it would be best to leave that to your decision, my lord.'

'Lady Mansell ordered
powder and shot?'

'Yes, my lord. They arrived
yesterday. And her ladyship ordered the penning of our cattle and pigs in the
park. In case of siege.'

Mansell hid his surprise at
his wife's activities but flinched inwardly. 'Very well. We now have the
benefit of some expert advice on the matter. I will introduce you to Captain
Davies, who arrived with me last night. His experience of soldiering is vast
since he spent some years as a mercenary in Europe. He will be able to advise
us precisely on our needs.'

'We have already had some
conversation, my lord.' Foxton, ever the efficient Steward. 'I have lodged
Captain Davies's men in the quarters beside the stable block. It seems most
suitable and the Captain was satisfied. We are sore in need of them, my lord.'

'Indeed. From what I have
learned this morning I think that we shall live to bless the Captain's
opportune arrival.'

When Foxton remained
deferentially before him, Mansell raised his brows in query. 'Is there
something else I should know?'

'Lady Mansell, my lord. She
faced Sir William Croft and my lord Hertford with great courage and rejected
their demands in your name, notwithstanding the pistol shot, which could have
proved fatal. She was formidable and we are all very proud of her. I thought
you should know.'

'What pistol shot?' his
lordship snapped, eyes slitted in one glittering glance, and then sighed. How
much more was there that she had not told him? 'Very well, Master Foxton. Tell
me everything!'

'I cannot find my wife.'
Mansell left Foxton to discuss the needs of their new garrison with Captain
Davies and now accompanied Joshua to the stables where the latter proceeded to
saddle up his horse. 'She would wish to say her farewells.'

'She is with Mary in the
kitchen garden.' Josh strapped on his saddlebags. 'Discussing vegetables, in
your gardener's enforced absence.'

'Ah. So you have heard. I
think she is avoiding me.'

'Already?' Josh glanced
across his horse's rump as he struggled with the straps. 'What have you done?'

'A simple case of misplaced
male superiority.' Mansell's lips twisted in a wry smile. 'She did not quite
accuse me of being an opinionated fool, but it was a near-run thing. It seems
that I am chiefly guilty of underestimating her.'

'Most likely.' Josh
grinned. Then quickly sobered. 'I do not expect that she enjoyed being called a
Parliamentarian whore, amongst other things, for all to hear.'

'What? She said that she
had been called traitor...but nothing other.'

'Traitorous bitch, I
understand, to be brutally accurate.'

'She did not mention that!'

'I don't suppose she would.
I believe that
scarlet woman
and
Mansell's whore
were also mentioned.'

'By God, Josh! Who had the
temerity to do that?'

'Just the local populace on
the way to market—some of the rowdier ones decided to air their grievances from
the road as they passed your gates.'

'How do you know this?'
And why had Honoria not told him?

'Mary put me in the
picture. Her memory is usually excellent. Especially when you wish it wasn't,'
Josh added with feeling.

'I see.' Anger began to
build inside him that she had been forced to tolerate such insults without
redress.

'There have been lively
events here, Francis. A pity to have missed them. Although the ladies seem to
have coped quite adequately without us so far.' Josh came round his horse's
rump to clasp Francis on the shoulder. 'So I will—'

Francis bit his teeth down
on a groan, but could not prevent his whole body from stiffening under the
excruciating stab of agony that shot down his arm, numbing his fingers.

'What is it, Francis?'

He drew in a deep breath.
Thought about making an excuse. Then resorted to the truth. 'She shot me.'

Josh was smitten to
silence, before the sound of his laughter filled the stables. 'Shot you! Remind
me never to marry.'

'I appreciate your
sympathy.'

'So, are you going to tell
me what happened?'

'No!' He would not admit to
the ludicrous situation just yet. But still he was forced to respond to the
malicious glint in Josh's eyes. 'Perhaps later. When my dignity has recovered
from the shock!'

'I'll hold you to it. It
would do you good to unburden your soul. I'll wager you deserved it.'

'How so?' Francis showed no
inclination to accept any blame.

Joshua hid a smile as he
tightened his horse's girths and contemplated an interesting conversation with
his sister.

Honoria swiped at a
bedraggled clump of vegetation with a pair of pruning shears. She had taken
herself and her ruffled temper to the kitchen garden, determined to enjoy every
moment of it.

'What has he done?'

'Absolutely nothing!' She
clipped off some dead heads of calendula with an extravagant gesture.

'So what has he said?' Mary
persisted, arms folded.

'Nothing of any
importance.' Lavender stalks followed in the wake of the calendulas.

'So what will you attack
when Francis does say or do something unforgivable?'

'I will think of
something!'

'Honoria!' Mary was
determined to get to the truth if it killed her, and before Honoria destroyed
the whole herb plot. 'I love gossip. Do tell.'

'I can't think what you
mean!'

Mary took matters into her
own hands. She marched round the plot, snatched the shears from Honoria's
clutches and dragged her to a low wall, where she pushed her to sit.

'You have to accept, dear
Honor, that all men are obtuse. They think that they alone are capable of
dealing with the problems of this world.'

'I know it.' She huffed out
a breath. 'I really think that he believes we have done nothing but entertain
ourselves these past days.' And then proceeded, with considerable enjoyment, to
list the sins of the Lord of Brampton Percy.

Mary relaxed, satisfied,
and listened with pleasure.

Later Francis tracked
Honoria down in the kitchen garden, where she was now contemplating, with no
great enthusiasm, the rotting stalks of last year's crops. She was alone except
for Morrighan and the puppy. Morrighan continued to sprawl amongst the withered
plants in a patch of sunlight, content to keep aloof from his lordship. In the
light of day he was no longer a threat to her mistress. But Setanta was
overwhelmed with the need to reacquaint himself with his lord and master. Any
attempt at conversation with Honoria had to await the puppy's frenzied delight
and demands for physical contact.

She watched her lord reduce
the puppy to wriggling pleasure, scratching the soft hair on its belly,
entertained by the growing affection between man and hound. But she would not
show it. She kept her expression stony. Difficult, but not impossible.

'You have no dignity!'
Francis informed the slavering Setanta, who proceeded to divide his energies
between gnawing the toe of his boot and licking his hands profusely. He pushed
the hound away at last and rose to his feet. 'At least someone is pleased to
see me. It is quite a sop to my self-esteem.' He smiled with more than a touch
of cynicism at the unbending figure of his wife. She had not moved one inch in
his direction. 'Will you talk with me, Honoria?'

'I must complete this
inventory or we will have nothing to eat come summer, much less next winter.'
Two could play at that game. 'I know nothing of Master Thorpe's plans here.'

'We have visitors, my lady.
They arrived with me last night. I need to make them known to you.' He
withstood her cool stare, refusing to give way before the challenge.

'Very well.'

She turned to walk before
him along the gravelled paths, making no attempt at further conversation,
giving him an excellent view of her rigid shoulders and the tilt of her head.
As the path widened he moved to her side.

'I thought we should use my
new estate office.'

She made no comment on
that! She clearly had no intention of picking up olive branches yet.

Francis wisely kept his
expression solemn and continued to pace beside her in silence.

When he opened the door of
the panelled room to usher her in, Honoria came to a rapid halt, surprised out
of her studied indignation by the gathering awaiting her. Mary was dispensing
small beer and social chit-chat with Foxton's aid. Mistress Morgan had brought
a platter, unfortunately of pewter, given the company, of meat pasties.

'My lady.' Francis made the
introductions. 'I know that you are acquainted with Dr Wright, Lord Edward's
doctor.' The elderly gentleman in professional black bowed, murmured greetings
in a soft-spoken manner. 'And Mistress Wright. They were caught up in some
unpleasantness on the road so I brought them here.'

'We are grateful for your
hospitality, my lady. I wish we could have met again under kinder
circumstances.' Dr Wright clasped Honoria's hand.

'And this is Mr Samuel
More,' Francis continued. 'Perhaps you have met his father, who is MP for
Bishop's Castle.'

'No.' Honoria smiled at the
dark young man, quick to note the sparkle in Mary's eyes as she refilled his
tankard. 'But I have heard of your father from my late husband. You are welcome
here.'

'And Captain Priam Davies,
to whom we may be everlastingly grateful before this year is out.'

A spare man, now in middle
age but fit and active with a distinctly military bearing, serviceably clad in
leather breeches and waistcoat, stepped forward and bowed low over Honoria's
hand before raising it to his lips. She looked questioningly at her husband.

'Priam has a family
connection, and was sent by my brother Ned with a small troop to give us
much-needed support. We met up by chance on the road near Leintwardine. He has
the military expertise that we lack. And, of course, his soldiers will go some
way to
solving
our
greatest weakness here—lack of manpower.'

'My lady. It is my pleasure
to be of service to you and your family. ' Captain Davies spoke with careful
formality, but the expression in his eyes was warm and confident and helped to
ease some of Honoria's anxieties. 'I trust that the increase in your household
will cause you no difficulties?'

'Why, no. Have you much
experience of warfare, Captain Davies''

'Some. I have seen action
in Europe over the years. I understand from your Steward that you fear a siege
of the castle?'

'It is possible.' Honoria
kept her comments light as she noted the tracks of tears on Mistress Wright's
lined face. She must discover the extent of the unpleasantness on the road from
Mansell. 'But whatever the outcome, we will welcome your knowledge and
expertise. And yours, Dr Wright—if you care to stay with us until the situation
is quieter.'

'And now, my lady, since we
have been allowed some privacy, perhaps you should tell me about the lad you
sent to London—for good—and our new status as traitors to His Majesty. And
about the Marquis of Hertford and the pistol shot.'

Honoria was once more alone
with her lord. 'Certainly. If you have an hour or two at your disposal.'

His lips twitched. She had
not forgiven him. But perhaps her stance was not quite so rigid, even if her
words were painfully formal. 'I am sorry that you were subjected to foul
insults in my name.'

She made no reply.

'You did not tell me the
worst of what was said, did you?' he prompted.

'No. It is of no
consequence.'