The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride Read Online Free Page A

but Sir Matthew never killed a pig unless there was an R in the month, for the meat would spoil too soon.
    Glancing through the small-paned kitchen window again, Babette saw the rebel captain washing his face and hands beneath the pump before turning to walk up to the house. She averted her head quickly, her heart’s strident beat bringing a flush to her cheeks. Rather than let him think she had been watching him, she loaded a tray with bread, cheese and butter and took it through to the parlour, setting it on a side table of oak. Earlier, Angelina had laid places on the long refectory table for the family, their female servants, Jonas and the captain.
    Babette straightened a chair, casting her eye over the fare laid out. The cold food would be close at hand and either she or her aunt would serve the men with the hot dishes before sitting themselves, while the servants waited to serve themselves once the family were seated. Babette had found her uncle’s habit of eating at the same table as his servants odd at first, for her father’s hall was much larger than this parlour and though everyone ate in the same room there was a distance between the lord and his followers. However, she was not at the castle. She had grown used to supping with the servants, but fervently hoped that she would not be seated next to their guest. The less she had to do with him the better. He had a way of looking at her that made her stomach clench and might make it impossible for her to eat her meal.
    However, Aunt Minnie had other ideas and she directed the stranger to take the seat of honour, next to her husband and therefore on Babette’s right hand. He politely stood until she sat, pulling out her stool so that she could take her place. Only her aunt and uncle had chairs with backs, another thing that had taken some getting used to when she first came here. At the castle she had a chair of her own, with a straight plain back and two arms to place her elbows. In her bedchamber, her chair had cushions she had embroidered herself, but her father would have thought it too soft to use at table, for one sat up straight to eat and did not slouch.
    Babette saw the stranger frown as he realised that she had a stool, as of course he did since there were no other chairs. Perhaps he was not used to using them and felt discomfort in the arrangement?
    Her uncle said grace as usual. Aunt Minnie rose after grace had been said and fetched the large tureen of stew from the side table, which she ladled into earthenware dishes for the men, before serving Babette, her daughter and herself. Babette offered bread to everyone, and Maria poured ale into mugs. Sir Matthew seldom had wine at table, for it was mostly sour and needed to be sweetened with honey, unless they were fortunate to have French wine, which tasted smoother. Good wine was expensive and saved for times of celebration and the family drank Aunt Minnie’s homebrewed ale. This evening, though, a rough red wine was offered to their guest, and Sir Matthew drank wine himself, though both Babette and her aunt preferred the weak ale they normally drank.
    As she retook her seat, Captain Colby stood once more, insisting on placing her chair for her. Babette’s cheeks flushed; he was their guest and should not wait on her, but as she looked at her uncle she saw approval in his eyes. Feeling the flutter in her lower stomach, Babette murmured her thanks, but avoided the soldier’s eyes.
    Taking her seat once more, Babette looked down at her trencher. She was very conscious of the man sitting beside her and noticed that he merely sipped his wine and then reached for the glass of fresh spring water that one of the women had placed for him. They were fortunate in having such pure water from their own spring. In towns and cities, Babette had heard it was dangerous to drink the water, for it was often contaminated, but theirs was pure and sweet and she saw the appreciation in the way their guest drank deeply of