Page 66 of By the Sword
‘Nell.’ Kate raised a protesting hand and glanced at the window. ‘Jonathan has just ridden away to fight a lost cause. We have no future to contemplate and if I allow myself to believe there is such a future, I will only end up like you, pining for a man I cannot have. I am a fool for even letting Jonathan into my heart.’
And into my bed.
Nell’s mouth drooped, and Kate instantly regretted her thoughtless words. ‘I’m sorry, Nell. I did not mean that to sound the way it did.’
Nell looked away with tears glistening on her lashes. ‘No, you’re right. Unless they prevail, there is not much future for any of us, is there?’
Chapter 20
Jonathan caught up with the King’s forces only a couple of miles from Worcester. As he and Giles approached the King, the Duke of Buckingham waylaid them.
‘Where have you been?’ snarled Buckingham. ‘His Majesty thought you had deserted.’
‘I doubt that,’ said Jonathan under his breath. ‘Did you not get the supplies we sent on, kindly donated by the good man in occupation of Longley Abbey?’
‘That did not answer my question,’ Buckingham responded.
‘We spent the night with our family,’ Jonathan answered quietly.
Buckingham’s lip curled into a sneer and he shifted his gaze to Giles. ‘A night with the good lady wife, Longley? That should put you in good stead for the next few days. You had best hope you’ve not given her the pox.’
Giles’s characteristic good humour evaporated and he lunged forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword, the colour high inhis cheeks. Only Jonathan’s restraining hand on the bridle of his horse stopped him from running Buckingham through.
‘He’s not worth it,’ Jonathan said.
Buckingham turned his sharp eyes on Jonathan. ‘And you, Thornton? Who keeps your bed warm at night? Rumour would have it that you no longer find women to your favour?’
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. ‘Perhaps, my lord, I am somewhat particular about what I share my bed with. I am certainly not so desperate as to take anything as ill-favoured as that which you made your bed mate in Perth.’
This time Buckingham’s hand shot to his sword but a low chuckle behind him stayed him.
‘Well said, Thornton.’
The King rode towards them, looking every inch a monarch, splendidly dressed with the Order of St George hanging around his neck. He smiled broadly, evidently in good spirits and jubilant at the thought of his entry into the loyal city whose gates stood open before them. He had borne so much in his short life that sometimes it was easy to forget that this princeling was only twenty-one. At that age there is still hope, Jonathan thought.
‘It’s a fine morning, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘and Worcester awaits us.’ He pointed south to where the square turret of the mighty cathedral rose from the surrounding landscape.
‘It is indeed, Your Majesty.’ Jonathan bowed from the saddle.
‘This is your country, Thornton, is it not?’ The King looked around the pleasant, rolling countryside and took a deep breath as if English air was the sweetest scent on earth.
‘It is, Your Majesty. Longley and I come from near Kidderminster and I confess we took the opportunity to visit with family last night.’
‘As is your right,’ the King said. ‘Would we have the same joy to anticipate, but–‘
Jonathan sensed the man’s pain. Charles carried deep grief from the death of his sister Elizabeth, who had died a prisoner in Carisbrooke Castle only a year earlier.
He recovered himself and, raising himself in his stirrups, pushed his hat to the back of his head and addressed the assembled troops. ‘On to Worcester. Where we will rest and await our loyal subjects.’
‘Or Cromwell. Whoever reaches us first,’ Giles muttered under his breath to Jonathan as the King cantered forward with Buckingham trailing in his wake.
The gates of Worcester stood wide and the townspeople turned out in force to welcome home their King. Fine words were spoken by the mayor, and the King, for one brief moment, lived out the sad parody of his birthright.
***
Once the royalist forces were in occupation, work began immediately in re-fortifying the city. The bridges to the south were destroyed, denying access to the city from the east. The earthworks, thrown up during the earlier conflict, were re-dug and the walls reinforced. Jonathan busied himself where he could with organising the strengthening of Fort Royal, a former stronghold that had fallen into ruin in the intervening years of quasi-peace.
Despite the King’s tireless optimism, there was no disguising the utter weariness of the largely Scots army and the dispirited and desperate air of its commanders. The news came that the Earl of Derby, landing from the continent with badly needed troops, had encountered Parliamentarian forces in a battle outside Wigan. He barely escaped with his life, let alone any men to reinforce the forces waiting at Worcester.
