Page 8 of By the Sword
Kate studied her son, through narrowed, disbelieving eyes.
‘Well, it seems that your guardian angel was watching over you once more, young man. You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck. However, I would like to know more about how you came to fall out of the tree.’
‘It is a particularly fine tree for climbing,’ the stranger said. ‘I fear my appearance startled them.’
‘Them? Were you and Peter Knowles up to mischief, Tom?’
Tom looked at his feet and swallowed. ‘He was teaching me to use the slingshot, Mother.’
Kate raised her hands in exasperation. ‘Enough. We will talk later. Now you have put this gentleman to a deal of trouble.’ She turned to the boy’s rescuer, who leaned against the tree, regarding them with amusement twinkling in his eyes. ‘Thank you for returning my son to me, sir. The least I can do is offer you some refreshment up at the house.’
‘No trouble.’ The man’s eyes creased in the corner as he smiled. ‘As it is I am expected for supper, I believe.’
There had been no mention of guests from Nell.
‘Expected?’
He straightened, all trace of humour gone.
‘Ah, apparently not by you, it would seem. I must apologise, Mistress Ashley, for not introducing myself before.’ He looked her squarely in the eye. ‘I am your kinsman, Jonathan Thornton.’
Kate gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘I’m sorry, sir. You did say Jonathan Thornton?’
He swept her a low courtly bow. ‘Your servant, ma’am.’
A pair of bright hazel eyes, at once both green and then brown with flecks of gold, met hers as he straightened. Even if he had not told her his name she should have guessed this man was a Thornton.
He could have been Tom’s father.
They shared the same light, graceful build, dark-brown hair and hazel eyes. His family had been right. The likeness even between man and boy was extraordinary.
Tom’s eyes widened. ‘Jonathan? You’re Jonathan? Did you really take Horley Bridge with only five men?’
Jonathan looked puzzled then laughed. ‘What tales has my grandfather been telling you?’ He reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Horley Bridge was a long, long time ago, Tom. Now, if you are up to it, how about you limp up to the house and tell my sister that I have arrived.’
‘And Ellen must put some salve on your ankle,’ Kate said. ‘Go, Tom. Sir Francis will be anxious to know that your cousin is home.’
Tom’s face fell. ‘But I want to talk to Sir Jonathan…Colonel Thornton…’ he corrected himself.
‘There’ll be time later,’ Jonathan said. He bowed to his young cousin. ‘It is a great pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Thomas Ashley.’
The boy flushed and broke into a halting run, his injured foot apparently forgotten.
Jonathan Thornton turned back to Kate, the smile fading from his face. ‘You appear somewhat surprised by my arrival, Mistress Ashley?’
‘I apologise, sir,’ she said. ‘I had been led to believe you were dead.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Dead?’
‘Well it’s not as if I had been told you were dead,’ Kate conceded, thinking about the few times Jonathan’s name had arisen over the last weeks. ‘It is just that your sister and your grandfather left me with the strong impression that you had not survived the troubles.’
Jonathan studied her for a long moment. ‘I am no friend of Parliament, Mistress Ashley. Your family, the Ashleys, took Parliament’s side in the late conflict and they may have felt it prudent to keep my continuing good health as one of the darker family secrets. My timing is a little unfortunate.’
He smiled but she did not see any humour reflected in his eyes.
‘Did they think I not could be trusted?’ she asked, unable to disguise the hurt in her voice.
Jonathan’s hazel eyes scanned her face, ‘Can you be trusted, Mistress Ashley?’
