Page 91 of By the Sword
Jacob sighed. ‘’Tis ’45 all over again. You should’ve stayed away, sir. Mistress Ashley don’t need you around to add to her woes.’
No, she did not need him to add to her woes, but he could not leave her alone to face whatever Prescott had planned.
He cleared his throat. ‘How is she?’
‘Poor lady,’ Jacob said with feeling, ‘beset all around she is, and having Lord Longley under the roof don’t help.’
‘Longley? Here?’ Jonathan stared at his bailiff. ‘How?’
‘I don’t rightly know how but they’ve got him well hidden. He’s laid up with a twisted knee.’
‘That’s the best piece of news you’ve given me, Jacob.’
‘Well he’s not good for much,’ Jacob conceded, ‘and a terrible worry for the poor lady.’
‘Can you get a message to him?’
Jacob shook his head. ‘Maybe. Prescott always leaves a guard on the house. They’re used to me coming and going, but it mayn’t look right if I starts traipsing through the house. If you needs a message getting through to his Lordship, the lass, Ellen can be trusted.’
In the firelight, Jonathan caught the flush that had risen to the bailiff’s thin cheeks at the mention of Ellen and shot him a quick smile. ‘Sweet on her, are you, Jacob?’
Jacob coughed awkwardly. ‘Not me, Sir Jonathan. Women bring naught but trouble in my experience.’
‘You always were a poor liar, Jacob,’ Jonathan said.
Jacob smiled a crooked, self-deprecating smile. ‘She’s a terrible, vexsome wench, that Ellen.’
Jonathan smiled. ‘I would agree with that.’ He sobered. ‘Ellen can be trusted but make it clear that on no account is she to say anything to her mistress. I don’t need Mistress Ashley to know I am here for the moment. She has enough on her mind.’
Jacob knocked out his pipe on the heel of his boot and as he refilled it he looked up at Jonathan with a sly look. ‘If you don’t mind me askin’, sir, but it seems to me that you’re more than a bit sweet on Mistress Ashley.’
A muscle twitched in Jonathan’s cheek. ‘More than a bit sweet,’ he conceded.
‘Then why don’t you want her to know you’re here?’
Jonathan ran a hand through his cropped hair. ‘You said it yourself. I don’t want to add to her worries, and I’d like to see what Prescott is up to before I decide my next move.’
‘This Prescott, would he hurt her?’
‘If he saw her as the way to get to me, yes, he would.’
Jacob shook his head. ‘This is a bad business,’ he said. ‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jonathan conceded. ‘I need time to think. Do you have a weapon of any kind, Jacob?’
Jacob indicated an old-fashioned musket propped up behind the door. ‘Just that.’
‘That’s not much use to me. I need a pistol.’
Jacob rose to his feet and rifled in a large wooden chest. He produced a long bundle and handed it to Jonathan.
‘This may be some help,’ he said
Jonathan turned back the wrapping and revealed a sword. He pulled it from the scabbard and held it up to the light, recognising it as the serviceable weapon Jacob had carried in the late wars. Not a gentleman’s weapon, but better than nothing.
‘Needs cleaning and sharpening,’ Jacob observed.
Jonathan nodded. ‘It’ll do well. Thank you, Jacob.’
