Page 130 of By the Sword
‘It’d kill him,’ Ellen said.
Jonathan rasped. ‘No doctors, Hen. Ellen…may be a witch but I trust her.’ He looked at Kate and stretched out his hand to her. She took it and his fingers tightened on hers.
‘Tabitha,’ he said, his voice now so faint that she had to strain to hear him. ‘If…if anything happens to me…promise me you will look after her?’
There was such urgency in his face that tears pricked Kate’s eyes. Was it possible after everything they had been through that he could die?
‘Kate?’
‘I promise,’ she said between stiff lips.
The grip on her hand relaxed and for an awful moment, she thought she had lost him. His eyes were closed but the rattle of his laboured breathing showed he still lived.
She leaned over and bent her head, resting her forehead on his. ‘You are not going to die,’ she whispered.
If he heard her, he gave no sign.
Chapter 46
Tabitha sat, as she had done for the past week, at the top of the staircase, her elbows on her knees and her chin cupped in her hands, Oliver by her side. The dog looked up hopefully when he saw Kate coming up the stairs, his bottom waggling in anticipation of a walk or more cheerful company.
‘Tabitha,’ Kate said, ‘it’s cold out here. Go and play your music in the parlour where it’s warm.’
She shook her head. ‘When can I see him?’
‘We’ve talked about this. When he’s a little stronger.’ The child’s face fell and a thought occurred to Kate. ‘If you leave the parlour door open, we will hear you playing the virginals. Your father would like that.’
‘Would he?’ Tabitha’s face brightened and she scurried down the stairs with Oliver bounding beside her.
Kate waited until she entered the parlour, propping the door open as she did. The first uncertain notes from the virginals rose up the stairs as Kate opened the bedroom door.
‘Do you hear that?’ she asked.
The man propped high on the bed turned his head toward the door.
‘That is your daughter.’ Kate answered his unspoken question.
‘Mary…her mother…had a rare gift for music.’ Jonathan’s voice was faint and hoarse. ‘Her father…would not allow her to have lessons. He thought music…music was the work of the devil but she sang…’
She crossed to the bed and sat down beside him. He reached up and touched her face, tracing the dark circles under her eyes.
‘You look…very tired, Kate. Is that my…fault?’
Her fierce battle to keep him alive had made for several long, sleepless nights but he had got through the worst of the fever and the hope that he may make a full recovery compensated for her exhaustion.
She smiled and took his hand. Turning it over, she kissed the palm and held it to her cheek. He would live, and at this moment she cared for nothing else. Still holding his hand in hers, they listened in silence as the gentle and erratic notes of the virginals drifted in through the open door.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about Tabitha if you knew about her before you left Seven Ways?’ she asked.
‘I couldn’t…be sure. Prescott could have been lying.’ He coughed, a deep, rattling cough and it took a long few moments before he could compose himself again. ‘I’m…sorry, Kate. I never meant…to deceive you. I intended to…write and tell you once I reached Holland but…my life is full of…good intentions and bad mistakes.’
‘She’s your daughter and she should live in your home. We shall take her back to Seven Ways and if I can go some of the way to giving her the love her mother never could.’
‘Kate…Kate, you’re crying.’ He reached up and brushed away the offending tears.
She caught his hand, twining his fingers in hers and pressing it to her cheek.
‘Don’t leave me again, Jonathan.’
