By the Sword (36 page)

"What are you thinking?” Suzanne's voice startled her out of her strange reverie.

Kate turned sharply. “It's strange, Suzanne, but you and Nell are both with child and I feel...” She sighed. “...I feel lonely. I long to hold a baby in my arms again, to share that joy of new life."

"You're being sentimental, Kate.” Ever pragmatic, Suzanne shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “You're welcome to this ponderous belly and the pain of childbirth. I've told William that this is it. No more children for me!” Suzanne winced and tightened her lips.

"Shall I send for the midwife?"

Suzanne shook her head. “It will be some hours yet.” She smiled at her sister and held out her hand. “If it's a girl I shall call her Katherine,” she said.

The baby was born in the early hours of the morning. Kate held her small namesake in her arms, awestruck at the wonder of childbirth. Suzanne lay back on her pillows, watching her sister with a deep and abiding affection. Whatever had occurred in the past months, and she knew there was more than Kate would tell her, had put her younger sister forever beyond her reach; she no longer belonged to this quiet world. She wished Kate would stay but knew that it would not be long before she would be gone back to Seven Ways to wait for Jonathan.

London

March, 1652

Kate Ashley held out her hand and Nathaniel Freeman bowed low over it.

"Mistress Ashley,” he said, indicating a chair and seating himself behind his vast table, covered with neatly arranged stacks of paper. “This is an unexpected pleasure."

"I must thank you, Master Freeman, for all you have done for us in the past months. We have received the promised compensation for our troubles after the affray at Worcester and, with God's blessing, have weathered the winter."

"I am glad to hear it. It has been our intention to pay a visit to Seven Ways when the weather improved, but the winter has proved harsh and of course—” he waved a hand at his desk “—the press of work..."

"I quite understand,” Kate said.

She looked down at the velvet mask she held in her hands. She had rehearsed what she had planned to say but now the words escaped her. “Master Freeman,” she began. “I have come to ask one more favour of you."

He sat back and pressed his fingertips together. “My dear, Mistress Ashley, whatever is in my power,” he said

Kate looked straight at him, that honest, level gaze that Jonathan had first noticed in her. “I am looking for Jonathan Thornton,” she said, barely disguising the agony in her voice.

"Jonathan? And what is Jonathan to you?” he asked, knowing the answer but testing her out.

Kate hesitated a moment. “He is everything to me,” she said softly then looked up at him, defiance in her eyes. “Sir, I'll not keep from you the fact that I hid him after the battle and saw him safely on his way by early October. He intended to make his way to London and from here to the Continent but to the best of my knowledge he never gained the Continent."

"Jonathan never was a good correspondent,” Nathaniel warned.

"Master Freeman, I know he would have sent word, somehow, had he reached safety,"

Kate handed him a much folded, crumpled and stained letter. “Nell received this scarcely two weeks ago. Lord Longley wrote it shortly after Christmas, nearly three months after Jonathan left us."

Nathaniel put on his glasses and peered at Giles’ impatient scrawl, reading aloud.

Dear Heart,

God knows if this will reach you but I pray that it does for you will know that I have reached Amsterdam safely. The knee has mended well but we are a sad and sorry crew, so many friends lost or imprisoned. While I do not wish to alarm you or Kate, I hold great fear for Jonathan of whom there has been no word. I have made extensive enquires in other likely places he may well have turned up, Holland, France and Spain and the like but there is no sighting or word of him. Perhaps he has decided to turn to the New World and we will hear shortly of his doings in Barbados or Virginia? Few know better than I his aptitude for turning up where least expected. I hope that perhaps by the time this letter reaches you one or other of us may have some better news. My love as always to you and Nan and the new baby. Keep yourself well and give Kate my warmest regards.

Yr Loving husband,

Giles L.

"He has vanished.” Kate said, a note of desperation rising in her voice. “I have been in London nearly a week. Every day my man has been down on the docks but all to no avail. If any of the boatmen know anything they will not tell me."

He laid the letter down on the table and regarded her from over the top of his glasses. “They would not talk to strangers, Mistress Ashley. You need to know the right people to ask."

She sat forward eagerly. “Please, can you tell me where I should look, who I should ask?"

Nathaniel looked her sympathetically. “Mistress Ashley. You should have come to me sooner. Please let me put your mind at rest on at least one count. Jonathan reached London, and I can be reasonably certain from which dock he intended to take ship for France."

Kate looked at him in grateful amazement. Then a thought occurred to her and she caught her breath. “If he did indeed take a boat to France, is it possible the boat was lost in the crossing?"

"I must confess my wife and myself have shared your concerns, Mistress Ashley. We have our own reasons for being troubled over the lack of word from Jonathan. However let us not think the worst, Mistress Ashley. Would you leave your enquiries with me for now and I will see what can be discovered?"

Tears of gratitude sprang into Kate's eyes. “Thank you, Master Freeman. In a world gone mad with hate and revenge, it is reassuring to know that we are not entirely without friends. I am so grateful he sought you out."

He stood up and offered Kate his hand. She took it gratefully and he escorted her to the door.

"Now, Mistress Ashley, there is perhaps one favour you can do for me."

Kate's eyes, still wet with tears, looked eagerly at him. “Please, whatever is in my power,” she said.

"You are to return to your inn, pack your belongings, and my wife will be expecting you at our home by supper."

"I cannot intrude on your hospitality,” Kate protested.

"Nonsense!” The lawyer waved his hand, “Henrietta would be mortified if she thought you were staying in an inn when we have a large house with guest chambers to spare."

He opened the door to show her out. “One last thing,” he said, “I am aware that my nephew was in the habit of travelling under aliases. You would not happen to know what name he is likely to have used?"

"I only know of one. John Miller,” Kate replied without hesitation, “a bookseller."

Nathaniel smiled. “I do not recall in Jonathan's short career as a law clerk that the boy had any great enthusiasm for books, but many years have passed and perhaps that is a taste that has matured. Please do not fret, Mistress Ashley. I promise I will make the necessary enquiries and I may even have something to report by this evening."

Kate curtsied and Nathaniel closed the door after her, returning to his desk, still smiling at the contradictions in Jonathan's nature. The amusement soon passed and he tapped his pen thoughtfully on the table for a few minutes before sending for his clerk.

"This Master Freeman must be well thought of,” Ellen commented dryly as they turned in at the gates of the handsome half-timbered house.

Kate had to agree. The whole house wore an air of comfortable prosperity, unlike the shabby and downtrodden aspect Seven Ways presented to the world.

As Dickon lifted Kate off the saddle, a woman, who could only be Henrietta Freeman, flew down the front steps with a light step that belied her solid appearance.

"My poor, dear girl,” she exclaimed, taking Kate's hands, “what you have been through! You should have come to us before now!"

Kate managed a smile. “It's kind of you to take me in like this, without any notice, Mistress Freeman."

Henrietta took her arm and guided her into the warm, well-polished parlour. “Nonsense, my dear,” she said, “Nathaniel and I seem to have been looking after stray Thorntons all our lives. One more makes no difference. Please call me Aunt Hen, everybody else does."

Ellen and the luggage were directed to a large, comfortable bedchamber overlooking the garden and the river, and Kate found herself propelled to a seat by the fire in the parlour where a cup of mulled ale and some cakes awaited her.

"Now you must tell me,” Henrietta said, seating herself down, “you have a son, I believe?"

"Thomas."

"Is he with you?"

"No, I have sent him to school in Worcester. Seven Ways is a sad, lonely place with just Nell and me, and I felt he needed the companionship of boys his own age."

"You must miss him."

Kate's lips tightened and she felt a betraying wobble in her voice as she replied, “We have never really been apart before and I confess I miss him terribly but...” She reached for another cake. It had been a hard winter at Seven Ways and food had been plain and frugal. “...I cannot hold him to my side forever."

"And Nell. How is my dear Nell? Jonathan told me she was with child."

Kate looked up sharply at the mention of Jonathan's name. “Nell is suffering most terribly,” she said. “She is constantly sick and it shows no sign of abating. However the baby seems to be growing well and little Ann is looking forward to the idea of having a sibling."

They were silent a moment. Henrietta's hands twisted in her lap and she frowned. “Nathaniel has told me that you are concerned about Jonathan. We too had been expecting some news of him. Poor correspondent though he is, he is not a man to break his promises. If he gave his word that he would write then he would have done."

"That is why I'm so anxious,” Kate confessed. “I am certain some ill has befallen him.” She looked away to hide the betraying tears. “I know he must be in some terrible trouble or worse, he could be dead and I have no way of knowing."

"Love can sometimes be a powerful medium,” Henrietta said and, seeing the alarm in Kate's face, smiled. “It's all right, my dear. Jonathan told me about his feelings for you and even if he hadn't, it was written in his eyes whenever he spoke of you."

Kate sighed and looked away but she could no longer disguise the tears that slid down her cheek. All her rigid self-control began to crumble. Henrietta crossed quickly to her, and encircled in Henrietta's motherly arms, Kate gave way. The months of strain poured out in an uncontrolled torrent while Henrietta stroked her hair and muttered soothingly.

Too exhausted to face supper, Kate allowed herself to be put to bed as if she was a small child, with a hot brick at her feet. She turned her hot cheek on the cool linen of Henrietta's best bed and closed her eyes, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Kate awoke next morning feeling better than she had done for months. Ellen brought her breakfast and after she dressed she went in search of Henrietta.

The faltering notes of a virginal guided her towards the parlour. She pushed the door open tentatively and to her surprise saw a young girl seated at the virginals, her ankles crossed and her forehead puckered in concentration. A small black and white spaniel that had been asleep at her feet leapt up and bounded over to Kate, jumping up in excitement, as young dogs are prone to do.

His mistress stopped playing and clapped her hands. “Oliver. Bad dog! Come here."

Reluctantly the puppy abandoned Kate and slunk back to his mistress. The girl looked up at Kate questioningly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your practice,” Kate said, “but I was looking for Mistress Freeman."

"Aunt Hen is in the kitchen, I think,” replied the child. “Who are you?"

She unconsciously flicked back a lock of dark brown hair that had escaped from underneath her neat, white cap. Kate stood quite still, her heart catching in her throat.

"I'm Katherine Ashley,” she replied.

The girl frowned. “Are you the lady who has a boy called Thomas?"

Kate nodded slowly and a slow smile lit the child's intense face.

"Father says he's my cousin. Is he here?” She looked expectantly at Kate.

Kate shook her head. “No, Thomas is at school,” she said.

A look of disappointment crossed the child's face and Kate took a breath and asked, “What is your name, child?"

The child looked puzzled. “Don't you know?” she asked. “My name is Tabitha."

Kate smiled and crossed to the virginals. “Tabitha is a pretty name,” she said. “Are you Tabitha Freeman?"

The girl cocked her head to one side. “Well, I used to be called Woolnough,” she said, “but Aunt Hen says it is proper I be called Tabitha Thornton. I think Tabitha Thornton sounds better don't you?"

Kate nodded, her throat constricting as the truth of this child's identity began to dawn on her.

"What are you playing?” she asked. “It was very pretty."

The girl's face lit up. “Shall I play it for you?"

"Please do.” Kate sank on to the window seat. She needed time to think.

The girl's fingers moved with a precocious surety over the notes. Watching the intent little face, Kate knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was Mary Woolnough's daughter, the child of her adulterous affair with Jonathan.

"You wouldn't think that the child had never seen music before she came here.” Henrietta's voice came from the door, as Tabitha brought her rendition to a firm end. “Her music teacher says she has a natural talent,” Henrietta continued, crossing to the child and placing her hands affectionately on her shoulders

Any number of questions filled Kate's head but she could not bring herself to articulate any of them.

Henrietta patted the child. “Run along, my dear. You can practice later. Mistress Ashley and I must talk."

Tabitha bobbed a hasty curtsy and, freed from the tedium of practice, skipped from the room with Oliver at her heels.

"Nathaniel gave her the puppy for Christmas,” Henrietta said, seating herself next to Kate on the window seat. “She said it was the first present anyone had ever given her. She called him Oliver after Oliver Cromwell dined here."