Page 38 of By the Sword
Flustered, Kate stammered, ‘Nothing…just called her name…I thought you must,’ her voice caught in her throat, ‘you must love her…’
‘She’s dead, Kate,’ he said in a hard, flat voice. Without meeting her eyes, he rose to his feet. ‘You’re right, I’m tired. Please excuse me.’
She watched him walk toward the house and picked up the book he had abandoned.
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die…
Had Mary been, for Jonathan, that love so alike that even death could not part them?
***
Upstairs in the bedchamber, Jonathan paced the floor. By the bed, he stopped and leaned his head against the bedpost.
‘You fool,’ he said out aloud.
You fool, he said to himself and closed his eyes.
He had seen the hurt in Kate’s eyes but knew there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Mary’s reproachful ghost haunted his nightmares and would always be there, standing between him and any hope of another life, another love. How could he have begun to even think there could be another life or another love?
This should never have happened. He should never have let Kate Ashley come so close.
No, that was wrong.
He should never have let himself come so close. The scent of roses and the smell of rosemary in her hair in the garden at Seven Ways had quickened his blood in a way he had not felt for a long time–had never thought to feel again.
He sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. He had to get away from Barton, get away from her before they both did something they would regret.
A knock at the door made him start.
‘What?’ he snapped.
‘It’s me, Jonathan.’ Tom peered around the door. ‘I…I wondered if you would like to play chess? But if you’re tired…’
The boy carried a wooden board under his arm and a box in his hand.
‘Sorry, Tom, I didn’t mean to sound so cross,’ Jonathan said.
‘If your shoulder is sore, we can play again another day..’
‘It’s fine,’ he lied. ‘Set the pieces out and we’ll play.’
Tom chattered as he set up the board. ‘This was Grandfather’s board. He was teaching me to play when…when he died. Mother said she would play but she is always too busy.’
‘What about Robert?’
‘He plays sometimes, but he’s not very good and it’s not much fun to keep beating him all the time. Sam and Phillip play with me sometimes too, but they’re away at school.’
‘Sam and Phillip?’
‘Robert’s older brothers. There’s Joseph too, but he’d rather go hunting.’
‘How many cousins do you have?’
Tom stopped to consider for a moment. ‘Six, counting the baby,’ he said.
That explained Suzanne Rowe’s matronly figure and bossy ways, Jonathan thought to himself.
