Page 43 of By the Sword
‘My mother died when I was seven and my father when I was nine, Jonathan. Suzanne was just eighteen and a new bride when I came to live here. William is a dear man, and he was as good as a father to me, but I don’t think one ever really recovers from the early death of one’s parents. What about you? You never talk about your parents or your brother,’ she observed.
Jonathan stopped to pick up a stick. He flicked at the bracken with it as he said, ‘What is there to say? My parents were blessed with the perfect son in Ned. He was charming, intelligent, handsome, loyal and courteous. They adored him.’
‘And you?’
‘I tried hard but I was everything Ned was not. I seemed to be continually in trouble and I was well beaten for it.’ He paused, adding with a trace of bitterness in his voice, ‘Until I got taller than Father, then we just used to quarrel.’
‘Your grandfather did not seem to think so badly of you,’ Kate observed.
He smiled. ‘No, I suspect Grandfather saw himself in me and, as he was not my father, he could afford to be indulgent. Indeed if it had not been for my grandparents I think my childhood would have been considerably more miserable.’
‘It is never easy being a parent,’ Kate commented.
Jonathan smiled bitterly. ‘I don’t blame them. I know I was not an easy son. My parents thought I should go into the church of all things.’ He laughed and stopped in the path, holding out his good arm as if inviting Kate to look at him. ‘Can you seriously see me as a bishop?’
Kate smiled and shook her head, Jonathan continued. ‘After they had abandoned their notions about the church as an appropriate calling for their second son, they sent me off to my uncle in London, to learn to be a lawyer.’
‘I can no more see you as a lawyer,’ Kate put in.
‘Well, in truth, I did not learn much law.’ Jonathan laughed. ‘I spent all my spare time training with the London militia. It is the ultimate irony that they should so skilfully defend London in the name of Parliament. I must have done a good job. When the war came, it was heaven-sent for the likes of I. Father raised a regiment and assumed command of it with good old Ned as his second-in-command. I pointed out, with a lamentable lack of tact, that I was the only one in the family who knew anything about the martial arts. I had a terrible quarrel with my father and in the end, I refused to have anything to do with him and went off to join Prince Rupert and the cavalry.’
He frowned and leaned against a tree, grimacing as his hand went to his bad shoulder. Kate started forward but he held up his hand, keeping her at a distance. ‘It’s fine.’
‘And Ned died at Edgehill?’ she asked
‘A musket ball straight between the eyes.’ Jonathan flinched at the memory. ‘He would never have known what hit him. Father was devastated, of course, and I don’t think my mother ever really recovered.’ He paused. ‘I think if it had been me, their grief would not have been quite so overwhelming.’
Kate saw the old hurt in the set line of his jaw.
‘Jon, how can you say that about your parents?’ she asked. ‘As a parent, I am sure that could not have been how they felt.’
‘It’s the truth,’ he replied. ‘The family would have seen it as my well-earned fate. After Ned’s death, Father did try to make peace with me but it was too late. The last time I saw him was just before Naseby, and as usual, we quarrelled. He wanted me to ride by his side under the Thornton colours, and I refused.’ He paused, squinting into the distance. ‘I often think that if I had gone with him, maybe I could have saved him.’
Kate closed the gap between them and this time he took her hand, twining his fingers in hers.
‘And maybe,’ she said, willing him to look at her, ‘you would both have died.’
‘Maybe.’ He looked down at her and his fingers tightened on hers. ‘Perhaps I should have died that day.’
Kate disengaged her hand and stepped back. ‘Why would you think something like that?’
‘Because of what happened later…after Naseby.’
He seemed to look at a point beyond her shoulder, to the events of the past, and for a fleeting moment, Kate sensed she had come close to the key to this man–the woman, Mary, and the enmity with Stephen Prescott –did these lie in the events that had occurred after Naseby?
‘What happened…after Naseby?’ she asked softly.
He looked down at her, his eyes returning to the present, and shook his head. ‘It’s all in the past, Kate.’
She resisted the urge to hit him, to protest that it was not in the past but a very real part of his present, provoke a reaction in him, but he had shut the door again. The moment had passed. He pushed himself away from the tree and strode towards the stables with Kate hurrying to catch up with him.
Chapter 12
Jonathan leaned against the door to Kate’s bedchamber, slowly pulling off his gloves. Kate knelt on the hearth, where she had been drying her hair in front of the fire, humming to herself. She looked for all the world like a wild, untamed thing and he thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. With difficulty, he fought back the rising desire to take her in his arms and press his lips to hers.
He swallowed and straightened, holding out the papers he fished from inside his jacket.
‘Your sister sent you those recipes you wanted.’
