Читать книгу The Rebel Captain's Royalist Bride - Anne Herries - Страница 8

Prologue

James Colby stood by the grave of the woman he had loved, then bent to place a single delicate flower on the grass, which now covered it. He had come to say his final farewell before riding off to the war and an unknown destiny. Perhaps before too long had passed they would lay him in the earth beside his sweet Jane and the sorrow he had known these past eighteen months or more would be ended.

‘Forgive me,’ he whispered as a gentle breeze seemed to stir and grief caught his throat. ‘You were too young and lovely to die. If a life was forfeit, it should have been mine.’

For a moment the sun came out from behind the clouds and it was as if a kiss grazed his cheek. He seemed to see the face of the girl he’d loved and hear her voice.

‘You were not to blame, my dear one,’ the voice said close to his ear. ‘Forgive me that I was too young and foolish to wed you when you asked.’

James cried out in agony. For she was so close that he could almost touch her, and he wanted to breathe life into those white lips, to bring her back to the world of sun and laughter.

The world was so much less without the innocent, gentle girl he had loved and cherished with all the tenderness of calf-love. Turning away, his heart wrenching because he must leave her there, James began to think of the months and possibly years ahead. The war was certain now that King Charles had set up his standard. He had tried to arrest the five members of the Houses of Parliament and his action had led to outrage and an upsurge of feeling against the tyrant who believed that only he could judge what was best for England.

‘What is best for Charles Stuart more like,’ Cromwell and Hampden had said when James talked with them about the future. ‘If the people of this country are ever to be free from tyranny, we must rise up and fight for our principles.’

James could only agree. He enjoyed his life as a landowner, a man of peaceful habits who had no wish to argue with his neighbours, but he now understood that for his way of life to continue he must fight. The King had imposed unfair taxes to fund his disputes and laws that were biased against the common man. Although James would have preferred not to take up arms, he knew he had little choice for soon the whole country would be split.

Besides, perhaps some action would ease the ache about his heart and the sense of having failed Jane, though he did not know what he might have done differently.

Donning his hat, which had a wide brim and a curling feather, James walked away from his betrothed’s grave. He did not think he would return again. He must put the unhappiness of Jane’s death from his mind and begin his life again.

Lost in his thoughts, he did not see the shadow lurking behind a huge oak tree at the edge of the graveyard, nor did he see the expression of hatred on the man’s face.

‘You killed her, James Colby,’ the man said out loud as he watched him walk away. ‘You were responsible for her death—and because of that I shall kill you one day soon...’