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

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    ‘You do not drink wine, mistress?’ he asked as he saw her sip her ale and then the water.
    ‘I prefer a sweeter variety than my uncle’s cellar can provide, sir.’
    He nodded, and she thought that perhaps he felt the same, though would not say. ‘Your aunt’s home brew is most pleasant to the taste.’
    ‘Yes, sir. Like the water it has been cooled, for Aunt Minnie considers it more palatable thus.’
    Again he nodded, as if agreeing. She knew that her aunt kept a good table and no one could object to the food, but her uncle was careful with his silver and would not pay the high price many wine merchants asked for the sweet French wines.
    ‘Did you have a good day, sir?’ she asked out of a need to make conversation. He turned his sombre gaze on her, and she felt her throat catch under his dark scrutiny.
    ‘We made some purchases, but hardly enough for our needs. We require much more flour and certainly more pigs and cattle, but your uncle’s friends had little to spare. We were not offered one horse.’
    ‘Perhaps in a few weeks when the harvest is gathered there will be more, sir. I fear there are few spare horses—but perhaps later this year if the travelling people bring their horses to the fair. Sometimes they have pure Arab bloodstock, but whether they would part with them is uncertain.’
    ‘Yes. I believe the fairs would be the best source in normal times, but the travelling folk are avoiding the fairs now that the country is at war, I think.’ He looked grim. ‘It was my hope and that of some others that we might retain the goodwill of the landowners and farmers by buying produce, but if we are offered so little...’
    Babette felt a tingle of alarm as he left the rest unsaid. She had heard that in some parts marauding soldiers had stolen cattle and grain, burning what still stood in the fields as a punishment to those who resisted. But the tales were vague and it had not happened here as yet.
    ‘If Parliament is for the right of the people, how can you justify taking what people have toiled all year to produce without payment?’
    ‘That is precisely my argument, mistress,’ he replied and smiled at her in a way that had her tingling right down to her toes. ‘An army must be fed and there are those who say we must take what we need if we cannot persuade. However, for myself I shall also give payment where payment is due.’
    Babette could not fault his reasoning, though she knew that most of the small farmers who helped her uncle to gather his harvest, and whom Sir Matthew helped in return, would produce only enough to feed themselves and their people throughout the year. The large landowners might have surplus corn, but hardly anyone had much to spare. Perhaps if the trees were laden with apples they might take some baskets to market, but as far as the grain, cows and pigs were concerned they raised only enough for their own needs. In times when the harvest was generally poor there was often not enough to go round and the poorest families might go hungry through the winter.
    Sir Matthew had a large flock of geese, also several ducks and chickens. He did sometimes give a goose to a neighbour at Christmas and sometimes at that time of year he killed perhaps ten of his flock and took them to the market, but even if the rebels took the whole flock it would hardly be enough to feed the number of men she’d heard had rushed to join the Parliament’s army.
    ‘Some of our men have gone home to harvest their fields,’ Captain Colby was speaking to Sir Matthew now, leaving Babette to her thoughts. ‘It is necessary work, for if the wheat and oats were left to rot in the fields their families might starve, but it does not please Cromwell.’
    ‘Is Cromwell not a farmer himself?’
    ‘Aye, he is that, but he will not release the men who follow him this year and insists the women and old men, children and the infirm must gather in the harvest.’
    ‘His attitude must be much resented?’