Page 117 of By the Sword
‘Deep in thought, Jonathan?’ His uncle’s voice made him start and he came to his feet, composing his face to greet Nathaniel Freeman.
Nathaniel waved him back down. ‘Sit, sit…we need to talk.’
The two men sat for a long moment in silence broken by Nathaniel at last. ‘Henrietta says you have agreed to our suggestion of leaving the lass here?’
‘I am grateful and it is the perfect solution. Unfortunately, Tabitha doesn’t seem to agree with the idea.’
Nathaniel nodded. ‘Well you can hardly blame her for that, but give her time and she’ll get used to it. You will promise to write regularly to the lass?’
‘If you don’t feel that would compromise you, Uncle?’ Jonathan said with a wry smile. ‘I am conscious of your position. A friend and adviser to Oliver Cromwell should hardly be seen to be sheltering the children of known delinquents.’
Nathaniel pursed his lips. ‘My family connections with notorious delinquents are no secret. No, we would like to have her here. Makes up for our own sadnesses. Hen needs someone to love and fuss over. You know what she’s like.’
‘The debt I owe to you can never really be repaid, Nathaniel,’ Jonathan said with genuine feeling.
His uncle shrugged. ‘We’ve always done what we felt was right,’ he said.
‘Nathaniel.’ Jonathan broke the silence that had fallen between them again. ‘Tell me honestly, what would happen to me if I came openly back to England? Made my peace?’
Nathaniel frowned. ‘I think you already know the answer to that, Jonathan. Memories are long and your part in the second war has not been forgotten. I think at best you could expect a lengthy stay in the Tower. At worst–’
He didn’t have to say it. Death.
Jonathan sighed. ‘Then I’m trapped, Nathaniel. Trapped between a life spent in exile and an uncertain future if I return.’
Nathaniel nodded. ‘That about sums it up. Although I will tell you something in confidence,’ he said. ‘I don’t think many more will die for the King’s cause. Derby probably, and a few of theother senior officers, but as for the rest of the poor wretches, possibly release or sent to the colonies as bondsmen.’ He paused and turned to look directly at Jonathan. ‘If you take my counsel, lad, wait till this latest business is just a memory and then I will see what can be done.’
‘But that could be a year or so,’ Jonathan said bitterly.
‘It’s the best advice I can give in the circumstances.’ Nathaniel stood up. ‘For now, Jonathan, I suggest you find a boat to France. And take this to speed you on your way.’ Nathaniel dropped a small purse of coins into Jonathan’s hand.
Jonathan looked up at the lawyer. ‘Thank you, Uncle. It’s more than I deserve. I’ll be gone within the hour.’
After Nathaniel left him, he sat looking across the garden, thinking of Kate and a peaceful life of hearth and home that seemed to be forever denied him. Just as he decided the time had gone to be on his way, he felt a small hand on his shoulder and turned to see Tabitha, her eyes red from crying, with Henrietta behind her.
‘Father,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay here if you promise to write often. I can’t read but Aunt Henrietta says she’ll teach me and I’ll learn how to write too. So I can write you letters.’
Jonathan took her in his arms, burying his face in her soft, dark hair. She smelled of soap and rose water. ‘You dear child,’ he whispered. ‘Of course, I’ll write when I can and I promise I will come back as soon as I am able.’
‘And you’ll marry Mistress Ashley and we’ll all go to live at Seven Ways?’ Tabitha’s voice was muffled by his coat.
He smiled. ‘That is what I want more than anything else in the world, Tabby.’ He disengaged her and held her by the forearms, studying the small, heart-shaped face. ‘Wait for me. Promise?’
She nodded and he rose to his feet. He held his daughter’s small hand in his as they walked back up to the house together.
Chapter 41
Jonathan stood in the shadows pondering the size of the boat on which he had bought a passage to Dieppe. It looked depressingly small and he silently prayed that the crossing would not be unduly rough.
He’d got a good price for the horse and with the money, Nathaniel had given him, for the first time in weeks he felt some prospect of a reasonable start to life in exile again.
The general buzz of activity around the small vessel indicated that sailing would not be long off so he stepped forward to take his place.
The master of the vessel surveyed him. ‘There y’are. I was beginnin’ to think you weren’t coming.’
‘When do we sail?’
The master looked up and down the wharves, an anxious frown on his face. ‘Tide’s on the turn. A few minutes, no more.’
