Page 25 of By the Sword
‘It will be a hard fight?’
Jonathan nodded. ‘And Cromwell is taking it to us. My only consolation is that Scotland is such a God-forsaken place, his English troops may well tire of it before the Scots capitulate. Let’s not talk of war anymore. It is a beautiful day and I can smell roast meat. If I don’t eat soon I will fade away.’
After they had eaten, they strolled among the stalls until Kate’s eye was drawn to a vendor selling bolts of material. She turned over the cloth with what Jonathan took to be the expert eye of a clothier’s daughter. As she hesitated between a grey and a russet he felt compelled to intervene.
‘Those colours make you look like a Puritan goodwife. Why not this? It will suit you much better.’
He drew a bolt of sky blue fine woollen cloth from the table. She stared at him. ‘But…’ she began to protest.
‘Now have you any lawn?’ he asked the merchant before she could finish.
The merchant produced a small bolt of fine white linen. Jonathan cocked an inquiring eyebrow at Kate. ‘Well, Mistress Ashley?’
She stared back at him. ‘I suppose…’ She smiled. ‘Why not indeed?’
‘I am not a Puritan goodwife,’ she muttered as Jonathan picked up her parcels.
‘Good,’ he said and strode towards a stall selling lace. With the deliberation of a cook selecting the finest apples, he pulled a pretty, narrow needlepoint from the pile.
‘This will do for edging the collar and cuffs,’ he said.
‘Jonathan, I…’
He just looked at her.
Kate reached for her coins, but he laid a hand over hers.
‘No, this will be my present for you,’ he said. ‘A gift for allowing me the pleasure of your company over the last two days.’
‘You can’t afford it,’ she blurted out.
He dismissed her protests and her thanks with a wave of his hand and handed her the parcel with a mock bow.
It would probably mean an enormous difference to his lodgings in Scotland unless he supplemented his income with a little highway robbery, but it felt like a small gesture for this woman who had already given so much and who, thanks to him, now faced an uncertain future.
‘Can you see Tom?’ Kate said, looking around the crowded market.
‘I think I see him over yonder. He’s admiring pigs,’ Jonathan said. He looked up at the clock on the church tower. ‘Mistress Ashley, as I would like to be in York by tomorrow night, perhaps we should retrieve your son from the pigs and be away.’
***
They reached the town of Cawood by evening and, as she changed into what passed for a clean and tidy gown for supper that night, Kate struggled with her conflicting emotions. This would be her last night on the road with Jonathan, and she had to admit that for all the danger he presented to them, she did not want it to end. He made her laugh. He reminded her that she was still young and that life, however difficult, could be lived to the fullest.
She had not been without suitors over the years of her widowhood; colleagues of her sister’s husband, William, or other local gentry. Young, old, handsome or otherwise, none of them had touched the place in her heart that she had thought would be forever Richard’s. Now she had to admit to a stirring of emotions she had thought never to experience again; the flutter in the pit of her stomach when Jonathan was near, the gladdening of her heart when he smiled at her, the desolation of imminent parting.
She looked hard at her reflection in the chipped and stippled mirror provided by the inn and saw the brightness in her eye, the flush of colour in her cheek. She tightened her lips and took a deep breath. She could not, would not, permit herself these feelings.
Jonathan would leave her tomorrow and she might never see him again. For the sake of her own peace of mind, she could not afford herself the luxury of…she expelled her breath in a deep, shuddering sigh…of falling in love.
They had taken a private parlour for their supper and, having sent Tom to an early bed, they would dine alone. As Kate entered the room she saw Jonathan standing by the window, gazing out at the last of the summer evening.
For a brief moment, time stood still as she caught his profile against the light.
‘Richard.’
Jonathan turned and looked at her, an eyebrow raised in query.
‘Kate?’
