Page 10 of By the Sword
‘I wish he would confide in me more.’ Nell sighed and squeezed his arm. ‘I suppose I should know better than to ask how long you are staying?’
‘Just the night, Nell.’
Her face fell.
‘You know I dare not risk staying longer.’
‘Well, I shall see that we eat well tonight then. You look as if you need feeding up. You’re so thin,’ she said.
Jonathan laughed. ‘I manage, Nell. Don’t fuss. Now, on the subject of your visitors, I’ve just met Mistress Ashley. She seemed to be under the impression I was dead.’
Nell bit her lip. ‘I didn’t actually tell her you were dead, but it seemed prudent not to say too much about you.’ She smiled and slapped her brother’s arm. ‘Of course, I never actually expected you to turn up.’
‘Who invited her?’
‘Grandfather.’
Jonathan frowned. ‘It is hardly a coincidence that Grandfather invites her to Seven Ways and then sends for me.’ Realisation dawned on him. ‘Of course. It’s about the boy.’
‘The boy?’ Light dawned in Nell’s eyes. ‘Oh, of course, Thomas.’
‘I can’t think of any other reason Grandfather would have chosen this moment to make peace with the Ashleys, other than to secure Seven Ways.’
‘Grandfather is dying. He needs an heir. It changes everything,’ Nell said and added, ‘I’m sorry, Jonathan.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t be. I set my own course a long time ago.’
She nodded and smiled. ‘It is good to see you, Jon, whatever the reason. I’ve told Grandfather you are here and he said you were to go straight to him. Don’t be shocked by the change in him, his time is coming fast.’
Jonathan knocked on the familiar door and admitted himself before the old man could answer. He paused on the threshold, momentarily overcome by the closeness of the room. Despite the warmth of the day, a new fire blazed in the hearth and the old man sat beside the fireplace, swaddled in blankets.
He looked up at his grandson and held out his hand.
‘My dear boy. You came. Don’t just stand there, come in and close the door. You’re letting in draughts.’
Jonathan sighed inwardly. Only his grandfather would still call him a boy, a man nigh on thirty and a soldier for nearly ten years. He wondered if Sir Francis still thought of him as the impetuous youth who had stolen one of his best horses and ridden off to war.
‘You sent for me, Grandfather,’ he observed dryly. ‘I came.’
He sat down opposite his grandfather. Despite Nell’s warning, he found it hard to hide his shock at the old man’s appearance. The pallid flesh on the old man’s face had contracted back against the skull, giving him the appearance of a death’s head. But the eyes that studied him were still as bright and shrewd as he remembered them. He opened his mouth to utter a platitude but a wave of the hand from the old man cut him short.
‘Don’t tell me I look well, boy,’ Sir Francis said. ‘I’m dying. However, the good Lord in his wisdom is giving me plenty of time to make my peace with him. He must think my sins worth a good deal of soul-searching.’ He ended with a hollow cough. ‘And you’re right, I did send for you. Your timing is excellent.’
‘Don’t flatter yourself that I would come at your summons, sir. I have business in England that makes the risk worthwhile.’
The old man looked at him, the shrewd eyes scanning his face. ‘Business? I know your sort of business. It only spells trouble.’
Jonathan flinched at the reproof in the old man’s voice but he had long since abandoned any hope of ever winning his grandfather’s approval. He turned a hot, angry gaze on his grandfather only to see the old man’s colourless lips curled in a smile.
‘We are too much alike,’ his grandfather said. ‘Were I your age, I would be entwining myself in just such a web of deceit. Tell me, lad. What new misery is to afflict this land?’
‘The King will be landing in Scotland shortly,’ Jonathan said.
‘The King in Scotland?’ The old man shook his head and ran a hand over his eyes as he said, ‘Does this mean war again, boy?’
‘Yes,’ Jonathan said, with a candour he reserved for his grandfather. ‘It’s just a question of what terms the King can reach with the Scots. God knows they want the earth and the heavens. However, I will say this for Charles, unlike his father, he’s not above making agreements for the political expediency, however distasteful.’
The old man grasped the arms of his chair with skeletal hands and observed his grandson with his bright, astute eyes.
