By the Sword (8 page)

"What does the sign say, Jonathan?” Tom asked.

"
Murder, rapine and brigandry
,” Jonathan read. “I would say this man was a footpad."

Even though they had ridden past, the sickly smell of the decomposing remains seemed to cling to them.

"Well, I hope he serves as a warning to those who would follow,” Kate said with a cough.

Jonathan looked at her. “Sadly, the country is rife with such brigands. The legacy of war, Kate. Men with no homes to return to or men who think a better living is to be made on the roads.” He paused and dropped his voice so she alone could hear him. “In a way I'm only one step removed from them."

"At least you're not a danger to innocent travellers,” Kate replied.

He looked at her. “Who is to say I'm not? Believe me, Kate, if a man is hungry and desperate enough—” He left the sentence unfinished.

Kate looked at him in shock. She couldn't tell if he was teasing her or if Jonathan Thornton had, in fact, resorted to such methods for his own survival. He caught her eye, shrugged and smiled enigmatically.

The following day the sun broke through the grey clouds and everyone's spirits lifted. Despite the state of the road, with good weather they would make York on the morrow. They had been on the road for barely an hour when the jink of harness and the sound of a large body of horsemen came from behind them.

Kate twisted in her saddle and saw to her horror a troop of soldiers riding hard towards them. She looked anxiously at the man who rode beside her.

"Jonathan!"

"There is nothing to fear, Kate. Just let them pass,” Jonathan said with calm confidence in his voice.

"Make way there,” the officer at the front shouted, and the travellers pressed back against the hedge to let the soldiers pass.

The officer reined in beside them. His eyes flicked across the small party. “Where are you bound?"

"York,” Jonathan said. “My cousin has been visiting with my mother, and as I've business in York I'm accompanying her."

"Papers?” The man demanded.

Obediently Kate produced her papers and Jonathan fished his out from inside his jacket. The officer scanned them quickly.

"There seems a great many soldiers travelling north,” Jonathan remarked as the officer returned the papers.

"Scotland,” the man replied. “Word is Charles Stuart has landed there."

"Really?” Jonathan raised an eyebrow and shook his head in mock horror. “So Fairfax is going to invade Scotland?"

"Nay, Fairfax would have no part of it. He's resigned command. Old Noll is now Commander-in-Chief,” the soldier replied.

Jonathan's face betrayed nothing. “Well, my friend,” he said, “God willing, you will deal swiftly with the scurvy Scots and their so-called King."

The man nodded and, with a quick bow to Kate, turned his horse's head and rode off to catch up with his men.

"Don't look like that, Kate,” Jonathan reproved. “You have a face like a book and if I'm to be betrayed it will be your doing not mine."

"How can you lie like that?” Kate breathed.

"Years of practice.” Jonathan sounded terse and she suspected he was cross with her.

They rode in silence for the rest of the morning and by lunchtime they reached the little town of Selby. It was market day and a fair of sorts had been set up on the outskirts of the town. The fairs Kate had known as a child had been filled with music and dancing, jugglers and cock fighting but these were all banned by the new regime.

However, the temptation to while away a couple of hours proved too great and Kate called an end to the day's travels. She gave Ellen some money and an order to watch Tom like a hawk and stood gazing fondly at the pair as the boy headed off into the crowd with Ellen scuttling behind him.

Jonathan turned to her and offered her his arm. “Mistress Ashley?"

"I'm sorry if I didn't play the game properly this morning,” she said as she took the proffered arm.

He smiled at her. “I suppose it must seem a game to you, Kate, but it's a very dangerous game with a hangman's noose at the end if I forget the rules. Contrary to what you might think, I gained considerable information from our encounter with the Roundhead. I now know the high command is divided. Scotland will be invaded and Cromwell is taking his best troops with him."

Kate shivered and looked up at the spire of the church.

"It will be a hard fight?"

Jonathan nodded. “And Cromwell is taking it to us. My only consolation is that Scotland is such a God-forsaken place, his English troops may well tire of it, before the Scots capitulate."

"Let's not talk of war anymore!” Kate forced a lightness she didn't feel into her voice.

They strolled amongst the stalls until Kate's eye was drawn to one selling bolts of material. She turned over the cloth with the expert eye of a clothier's daughter. The quality was good and she needed a new gown. She hesitated between a grey and a russet.

Behind her Jonathan sighed. “No, Kate. Those colours make you look like a Puritan goodwife. Why not this? It will suit you much better."

He drew a bolt of sky blue cloth from the table.

"Now have you any lawn?” he asked of the merchant before Kate could protest.

The merchant produced a small bolt of the fine, white linen and Kate meekly concluded the transaction.

Her new purchases parcelled up and handed over to Jonathan for carriage, Kate felt slightly peeved. She could not decide if it was because she resented his interference or because he was right—she did look like a Puritan goodwife.

Jonathan stopped at a stall selling lace and with the deliberation of a cook selecting the finest apples, pulled a pretty, narrow needlepoint from the pile.

"This will do for edging the collar and cuffs,” he said.

Recognizing defeat, Kate reached for her coins, but he laid a hand over hers.

"No, this will be my present for you,” he said. “A gift for allowing me the pleasure of your company over the last two days."

"You can't afford it,” she blurted out, without thinking.

He dismissed her protests with a wave of his hand and handed her the parcel with a mock bow.

Kate thanked him graciously, aware of the sacrifice the present entailed. It would probably mean an enormous difference to his lodgings in Scotland, unless of course he turned to a little highway robbery on his way north to supplement his income.

"I think it's time to find Tom,” she said, looking around the crowded market.

"I think I see him over yonder. He's admiring pigs,” Jonathan said.

Kate turned in the direction he indicated and in doing so collided with another woman, causing them both to drop their parcels. She apologized profusely and stooped to retrieve the packages. As she stood she found herself looking into the face of Lady Anne Fairfax, wife of the now retired General, whose home at Nun Appleton was only a few miles from Selby.

"Oh, my lady,” she said sinking into a curtsy, “I do apologize. I didn't recognize you."

Lady Anne Fairfax smiled. She had a square, plain face but surprisingly lovely eyes, inherited by her daughter Mary, an awkward girl of about fourteen who accompanied her mother.

"Katherine Ashley, isn't it?” Lady Fairfax said.

"You remember me, my lady? It was many years ago."

"Of course I remember you, Mistress Ashley. Your little boy must be quite grown now."

Kate cast a glance in Tom's direction. He still seemed enamoured of the pigs.

"The General and I were sorry to hear of the recent death of David Ashley. He was a good man. Thomas thought highly of him, and your husband of course."

Kate thanked her but the gaze of the other woman's gaze had moved to the tall figure standing behind Kate. Kate took a breath, forced a smile and introduced Jonathan as her cousin John Miller from London.

Jonathan bowed. “My lady,” he said, bestowing a charming smile on the General's wife. “I have long admired your husband."

Lady Anne beamed. The subject of her husband apparently brought her a great deal of pleasure.

"Thank you, Master Miller,” she said. “Now he has retired from service I shall look forward to somewhat more of his company than I have been used to in the past years. Certainly the roses will benefit from his attention."

The two women chatted politely about gardens and the price of cloth before excusing themselves.

Away from earshot Jonathan remarked, “You seemed on remarkably familiar terms?"

Kate smiled. “I told you, Lady Fairfax once passed a few nights at Barton. She followed the troops for the first few years of the war."

"A formidable lady! Little wonder it is rumoured that she wears the breeches."

Kate shrugged. “She is a woman with strong opinions and I have no doubt that Sir Thomas would think it prudent to listen to her counsel when the occasion warrants it!"

Jonathan smiled at her. “Well, Mistress Ashley, as I would like to be in York by tomorrow night, perhaps we should retrieve your son from the pigs and be away."

They reached Cawood by evening and as she changed into what passed for a clean and tidy gown for dinner that night, Kate struggled with a large number of conflicting emotions. This would be her last night on the road with Jonathan, and she had to admit that for all the danger he presented to them, she did not want it to end. He made her laugh. He reminded her that she was still young and that life, however difficult, could be lived to the fullest. He also stirred something within her that she had not felt for a very long time.

She had not been without suitors over the years of her widowhood, either colleagues of her sister's husband, William, or other local gentry. Young, old, handsome or otherwise, none of them had touched the place in her heart that she had thought would be forever Richard's. Now she had to admit to a stirring of emotions she had thought never to experience again: the flutter in the pit of stomach when Jonathan was near, the gladdening of her heart when he smiled at her, the desolation of imminent parting.

She looked hard at her reflection in the chipped and stippled mirror provided by the inn and saw the brightness in her eye, the flush of colour in her cheek. She tightened her lips and took a deep breath. She could not, would not, permit herself these feelings. Jonathan would leave her tomorrow and she might never see him again. For the sake of her own sanity, she could not afford herself the luxury of ... she expelled her breath, in a deep, shuddering sigh ... of falling in love.

They had taken a private parlour for their supper and having dispensed Tom to an early bed, they would dine alone. Jonathan stood by the window, gazing out at the last of the summer evening.

For a brief moment time stood still as she caught his profile against the light.

"Richard!"

Jonathan turned sharply and looked at her in surprise.

Kate gasped and put her hand to her mouth. She had not meant to say the name aloud. In sudden anguish, she looked up at Richard's cousin, so much taller, broader and darker than Richard, and wondered how she could have made the mistake.

"Kate? Are you all right?” She heard the concern in his voice.

She nodded and lowered her hand, making pretence of smoothing her cuffs. “I apologise, Jonathan. A foolish notion. I'd never thought that you and Richard had much of a likeness, even for cousins,” she said. “But just for a moment..."

A strange look passed across his face.

"In truth,” he said quietly, “if you had ever seen us together you wouldn't have doubted that we were related."

"What do you mean?” She looked at him with sudden comprehension. “You knew Richard? You told me you'd never met!"

He waved a hand at the table. “Supper as you can see is served. Come and sit down and I will tell you about Richard."

She sat down at the table and took the glass of wine he poured for her. Jonathan sat down across from her and picked up his glass. He gazed into its blood red depths then looked up, giving her a rueful smile.

"Yes, I did know Richard. We were at Oxford at the same time. Not at the same college of course but our paths crossed on more than one occasion. It may not surprise you to know that we didn't get on very well. Blood does not always spell kinship, even without the added complications of a long-standing family estrangement. In fact we were probably about as different as two young men could be. Richard, as you well know, was a scholar. I was...” He sighed. “Well, that's another story. However, the one thing we were both determined upon was an intention to end Grandfather's pointless feud.” He set the glass down and cut into his capon. “In fact I once took him to Seven Ways to see Grandfather."

Kate shook her head in disbelief. “Richard never told me any of this, nor your grandfather!"

"And that surprises you?” Jonathan looked up at her. “Grandfather refused to see him and Richard quite rightly saw no point in remaining where he was not welcome so he returned to Oxford."

"Did you see Richard again?” She asked.

He nodded. “From time to time but we had so little in common, we never sought each other out. Once he left Oxford we had no cause to communicate. Then, of course, the war came and the Ashleys sided with Parliament and the rift deepened.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders. “It is to my shame, Kate, that I didn't even know the circumstances of Richard's death."

Kate did not respond for a very long moment, trying to imagine her beloved Richard and this man as young men together in Oxford, united only by one goal: to end the rift between the two families. Two more different men she could not imagine.

Kate looked away, to hide the pricking of tears behind her eyes. “Richard,” she began, “Richard lacked the heart for the fight. He would have been happier with his books."

Jonathan smiled sadly. “That I could imagine,” he said

"In the circumstances, I can imagine that it would not have pleased your family to even pretend an acquaintance with an Ashley,” Kate turned back to face him.

Jonathan shivered, as if from the memory. “My father was simply furious, and Ned sided with him as he always did. It was just another transgression to add to the ledger."