Page 122 of By the Sword
She dashed the betraying tears away and rose to her feet, turning for the door.
‘Mistress Ashley, there is perhaps one favour you can do for me?’
Kate turned back as he stood up. ‘Please, whatever is in my power,’ she said.
‘You are to return to your inn, pack your belongings, and my wife will be expecting you at our home in Putney by supper.’
‘I cannot intrude on your hospitality,’ Kate protested.
‘Nonsense.’ The lawyer waved his hand, ‘Henrietta would be mortified if she thought you were staying in an inn when we have a large house with guest chambers to spare.’
He came out from behind the desk and leaned one hand on the door to prevent her from leaving. ‘One last thing,’ he said, lowering his voice again. ‘I am aware that my nephew was in the habit of travelling under aliases. You would not happen to know what name he is likely to have used?’
‘I only know of one,’ Kate replied without hesitation. ‘John Miller, a bookseller.’
Nathaniel smiled. ‘I do not recall in Jonathan’s short career as a law clerk that the boy had any great enthusiasm for books, but many years have passed and perhaps that is a taste that has matured. Please do not fret, Mistress Ashley. I promise I will make the necessary enquiries and I may even have something to report by this evening.’
***
‘This Master Freeman must be well thought of,’ Ellen commented as they turned in at the gates of the handsome red brick house, constructed in the style popular at the turn of the century.
Unlike the shabby and downtrodden Seven Ways, the house and grounds surrounding it wore an air of comfortable prosperity.
As Dickon helped Kate dismount, a woman who could only be Henrietta Freeman flew down the front steps with a light step that belied her solid appearance.
‘My poor, dear girl,’ she exclaimed, taking Kate’s hands, ‘what you have been through. You should have come to us before now. Please call me Aunt Hen, everyone does.’
Kate managed a smile. ‘It’s kind of you to take me in like this, Mistress Freeman…Aunt…Hen.’
‘Nonsense, my dear,’ she said. ‘You are family. Nathaniel and I seem to have been looking after stray Thorntons all our lives. One more makes no difference.’
Henrietta took her arm and guided her into a warm, well-polished parlour while Ellen and the luggage were directed upstairs. A cup of mulled ale and some cakes awaited her arrival and Kate was seated in a comfortable, well-cushioned chair.
‘Now you must tell me all about yourself,’ Henrietta said, seating herself down and helping herself to a cake. ‘You have a son, I believe?’
‘Thomas.’
‘Is he with you?’
‘No, I have sent him to school in Worcester. Since I returned to Seven Ways last month, I felt he needed the companionship of boys his age and to continue his education.’
‘You must miss him.’
Kate’s lips tightened and, with a betraying wobble in her voice, she replied, ‘We have never really been apart before and I confess I miss him terribly but…’ She reached for another cake. It had been a hard winter in the north and food had been plain and frugal. ‘I cannot hold him to my side forever.’
‘And Nell. How is my dear Nell? Jonathan told me she was with child.’
Kate looked up sharply at the mention of Jonathan’s name. ‘Nell is suffering most terribly,’ she said. ‘She has been constantly sick and it shows no sign of abating even though her pregnancy is now well advanced. However, the baby seems to be growing well and little Ann is looking forward to having a sibling.’
They were silent a moment. Henrietta’s hands twisted in her lap and she tightened her lips as if summoning her courage.‘Nathaniel has told me your concerns about Jonathan. We too had been expecting some news from him. Poor correspondent though he is, he is not a man to break his promises. If he gave his word that he would write then he would have done so.’
‘That is why I’m so anxious,’ Kate confessed. ‘I am certain some ill has befallen him.’ She looked away to hide the betraying tears. ‘I know he must be in some terrible trouble or worse, he could be dead and we have no way of knowing.’
‘Love can sometimes be a powerful medium,’ Henrietta said and, seeing the alarm in Kate’s face, smiled. ‘It’s all right, my dear. Jonathan has confided his feelings for you and even if he hadn’t, it was written in his eyes whenever he spoke of you.’
Kate looked away. She could no longer disguise the tears that slid down her cheek. All her rigid self-control began to crumble and encircled in Henrietta’s motherly arms, Kate gave way. The months of strain poured out in an uncontrolled torrent while Henrietta stroked her hair and muttered soothingly.
Too exhausted to face supper, Kate allowed herself to be put to bed as if she were a small child, with a hot brick at her feet. She turned her hot cheek on the cool linen of Henrietta’s best bed and closed her eyes, drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.
