"But I have now,” he said in a voice full of regret.
"Promise me you won't go away again?” she asked.
At that moment Jonathan would have promised her the moon if she had asked for it. He bent down and kissed her and holding firmly onto his hand, she closed her eyes and was asleep within seconds. He sat without moving, still holding her small hand, and watched her sleep, smitten with the small wonder that he and Mary had produced.
Conscious of his own damp and weary state, he tucked her hand beneath the bedclothes and stood up. He bent over her, smoothing the dark hair away from her forehead, and gently kissed her again.
"I could never leave you again,” he whispered.
Downstairs, Henrietta and Nathaniel sat by the fire, their heads together engaged in earnest conversation. Jonathan leaned wearily against the door. It occurred to him that even after thirty years of marriage and the death of their own son, they were as close to each other as young lovers. He hoped, prayed, that one day someone would think that of him and Kate.
"Well, Uncle,” he said, “she is asleep. You can send for the soldiers now."
Nathaniel rose to his feet and stood facing Jonathan, his back to the fire. “There's no question of that, lad, not tonight. If I'm asked, then I've not seen you in ten years.” He paused, his eyes searching his nephew's face, “I take it you were part of that affray at Worcester?"
Jonathan nodded and stumbled gratefully into a chair by the fire, while Henrietta brought him a tray with some food and ale.
"You know they've still not caught Charles Stuart?” Nathaniel said.
Jonathan looked up at him and tried to keep his face impassive. “God grant they never do,” he said. “England will never survive the judicial murder of another King."
Nathaniel changed the subject. “And how are things at Seven Ways?"
"I've told Kate to write to you again. I know you helped her before. That man Price has been causing trouble again and she had a troop of parliament horse billeted on her for several weeks without recompense."
Nathaniel nodded. “I'll see what I can do. I knew David Ashley, you know?"
Jonathan shook his head. “No, I didn't know that."
"He was a member of the Long Parliament. Katherine cannot owe any thanks to your grandfather for saddling her with Seven Ways."
"No,” Jonathan agreed.
"Still, she seems to have taken it on. Brave woman."
He nodded. “She's an extraordinary woman."
Jonathan caught the glance between his aunt and uncle, but let it pass without comment from him.
"How is Nell?” Henrietta asked.
"Nell is with child.” Jonathan passed on the small snippet of family gossip.
"How?” Thomas asked ingenuously.
Jonathan looked at him and laughed. “The usual way I presume, Uncle,” he said then added, “Giles was hardly likely to miss an opportunity to see his wife once he was as close as Worcester."
Nathaniel nodded. “Ah, Giles. I presumed him still in France. He was at Worcester too?"
Jonathan nodded.
"Where is he now? Is he all right?” Henrietta asked.
"He's all right,” Jonathan said.
Henrietta looked at Jonathan and placed a kindly hand on his arm. “You're exhausted, Jon,” she said. “Go and rest and we will talk in the morning."
With the infinite capacity of youth for speedy recovery, Jonathan found not only was Tabitha up, but playing on the floor of the parlour with Henrietta's little dog. A smile lit her face when she saw him and she rushed up to him and took his hand.
"Is this where we are going to live, Father?” she asked. “It's a lovely house and everyone is so nice."
Jonathan picked her up and smiled. “Well I'm glad to see you looking so bright this morning,” he said, ignoring her question. “What's the dog's name?"
"Pippin,” Tabitha replied.
Henrietta came in with some flowers from the garden.
"Ah, you're up. I let you sleep. Nathaniel has gone to town but he will be back later. He will wish to see you. Now, you probably want to break your fast."
She rang the bell for the maid and told her to find something for Jonathan to eat.
The maid obliged and reappeared carrying a tray loaded with a substantial breakfast. While Jonathan ate, Henrietta sat with Tabitha on the window seat, showing her a game that seemed to be played with string. Jonathan watched, fascinated that the grave, unhappy child of just two days ago could so suddenly blossom.
After breakfast Henrietta suggested a walk by the river as the rain had passed, leaving a clear, fresh, autumn day. The garden of the fine house ran down from the house to the banks of the Thames. It had always been a place of happy memories for Jonathan. Tabitha ran ahead with the little dog and Jonathan walked slowly with Henrietta's hand tucked into his arm.
"I know someone who would love this garden,” he said as they strolled through the pleasant borders.
Henrietta looked sideways at him. “Someone special?” she asked.
He looked down towards the river. “Someone very special,” he admitted.
"Ah. Kate Ashley?” Henrietta enquired.
Jonathan looked down at his aunt. “Am I that transparent?"
"Of course you are, dear boy. Don't forget, of all your family, I probably know you the best!"
Jonathan shook his head and patted her hand affectionately. “You flatter yourself, Aunt. It has been ten years."
"And you think you're so very different?"
He looked at her with a half smile. “I thought I was!"
Henrietta shook her head. “Well, take it from me, you aren't! Now you have slept on your problems, have you any thoughts as to what you are going to do with your daughter?"
They stopped on a terrace to watch Tabitha throwing a stick for the dog.
He shrugged helplessly. “I have no choice but to take her with me to Holland, Aunt. I can't send her to Seven Ways at the moment. Her great-grandmother will probably look for her there and Kate—Kate has responsibility enough without another mouth to feed."
"Does Kate know about the child?"
He shook his head.
"I see,” Henrietta said pensively. “Jon, you've not a penny to your name. How can you possibly expect to give the child a decent home in Holland or France?"
She had asked the question that he himself had been turning over and over for the last two days. He turned a tortured face to her. “I don't know, Aunt Hen. God help me, I really do not know."
Henrietta stopped and took both his hands, forcing him to look at her. “Jonathan, please don't take this the wrong way, but Nathaniel and I lay awake for hours talking last night and we both agree.” Her eyes held his. “Jon, leave her with us."
She had given him the answer, the perfect answer: A loving, comfortable home for the child. Perfect except for one thing: he would not share it. A terrible pain wrapped itself around his chest and he looked away momentarily.
Henrietta saw his hesitation and squeezed his hands sympathetically. “Jon, you must see that it is the only solution until you have sorted out your life."
He sighed with resignation. “You're right, Hen, and I thank you both for the offer but how can I tell her?"
They were interrupted by Tabitha herself, flying across the grass, her skirts billowing out. The pain manifested itself in Jonathan's chest again.
How can I leave her,
he thought bending to gather her up in his arms as she flew towards him,
when I have only just found her?
Carrying Tabitha, Jonathan walked up to the house.
"Do you like this house, kitten?” he asked.
"Oh yes, it's lovely."
He set her down on a low garden wall. “It's not my house, Tabitha. I don't actually have a home,” he admitted ruefully.
"Nowhere?"
"Well, my family lives in a lovely old house in Worcestershire called Seven Ways."
She frowned. “That's a funny name."
"It's a very old house."
Tabitha swung her legs, kicking her heels against the wall. “Do I...?” she began. “Do you have any other boys or girls?"
Despite himself, Jonathan smiled, remembering a similar conversation with Tom. “No, I don't, but there is a lady who lives at Seven Ways. I hope to marry her one day. She has a boy who is a little older than you, called Tom. He's your cousin."
"What's a cousin?” Tabitha asked.
Jonathan explained about cousins and told her about her aunt Eleanor and little Nan and the new baby.
Tabitha's eyes shone at the thought of this newly discovered family. “When am I going to see them?” she asked.
"Sometime soon,” Jonathan said.
When I can work my way out of my problems, I will take you there,
he thought.
"What's this lady's name?” Tabitha asked.
"Kate."
Tabitha frowned. “So when you and Kate get married, she'll be my mother?"
"I suppose she will be,” Jonathan said.
"So when are you and Kate going to get married?” Tabitha demanded.
"One day,” Jonathan said with a bitter laugh. But now I have to go a long way away, kitten. If I don't the soldiers will come and put me in prison."
Tabitha looked at him, aghast. “Did grandam send the soldiers after you because you took me?"
"No,” said Jonathan. “I told you, I'm a soldier. I fought in a big battle and we lost and I need to hide for a little while. Tell me, Tabitha, do you like Aunt Henrietta and Uncle Nathaniel?"
She nodded. “Very much."
Jonathan took his courage in both hands and said, “Where I am going, kitten, I can't take you with me.” Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth but before she could protest, he put his finger to her lips. “Hush and hear me out, Tabitha. I want you to stay here with Aunt Hen and she wants you to stay very much. She has never had a little girl of her own."
"You promised!” her wail cut him to the very core.
"I know, Tabby, but I have to go and I have no money and nowhere for us to live. I can't take you with me. Here you will have a warm bed and someone to love you and I promise no one will beat you."
She looked at him, her hazel eyes full of hurt. “You promised you wouldn't go away again!” With a strangled sob she flung herself off the wall and ran into the house.
Jonathan sat with his head in his hands, listening to the sound of her retreating footsteps and hearing again her mother's plea.
Take me with you. Please take me with you.
Oh Mary
, he thought,
why didn't you tell me you were with child? I would have taken you away. I would have left you at Seven Ways and Tabitha would have grown up there.
He stared despondently at the river. His mother would have grown to love Mary and once she held her granddaughter all would have been forgiven. Perhaps at Seven Ways, Mary would not have died. How different things could have been! Instead every life he touched he seemed to hurt: Mary, Tabitha, Kate and even Stephen Prescott.
"Deep in thought, Jonathan?” His uncle's voice made him start. “Henrietta says you have agreed to our suggestion of leaving the lass here."
"Tabitha doesn't seem to agree with the idea."
Nathaniel shrugged and sat down beside him on the wall. “Well, you can hardly blame her for that, but give her time and she'll get used to it. You will promise to write regularly to the lass?"
"If you don't feel that would compromise you, Uncle?” Jonathan said with a wry smile. “I am conscious of your position. A friend and adviser to Oliver Cromwell should hardly be seen to be sheltering the children of known delinquents."
Nathaniel pursed his lips. “How are they to know? Anyway my family connections are no secret. No, we would like to have her here. Makes up for our own—” he coughed “—our own sadnesses. Hen needs someone to love and fuss over her. You know what she's like."
"The debt I owe to you can never really be repaid, Nathaniel,” Jonathan said with genuine feeling.
His uncle shrugged. “We've always done what we felt was right,” he said.
The two men sat in silence watching the river glide gently by, timeless and ceaseless on its course to the sea.
"Nathaniel.” Jonathan broke the reverie. “Tell me honestly, what would happen to me if I came openly back to England?"
Nathaniel looked thoughtful. “I think you already know the answer to that, Jonathan. Memories are long and your part in the second war has not been forgotten. Long imprisonment certainly, death possibly."
Jonathan sighed. “Then I'm trapped, Nathaniel. Trapped between a life spent in exile and an uncertain future if I return?"
Nathaniel nodded. “That about sums it up. Although I will tell you something in confidence,” he said. “I don't think many more will die for the King's cause. Derby probably and a few of the other senior officers, but as for the rest of the poor wretches, possibly release or sent to the colonies as bondsmen.” He paused contemplatively. “If you take my counsel, lad, wait a till this latest business is just a memory and then we can see what can be done."
"A year or so! That's so easy to say, Nathaniel,” Jonathan said bitterly.
"Well it's the best advice I can give in the circumstances,” Nathaniel said pragmatically and stood up. “For now, Jonathan, I suggest you find a boat to France. And take this to speed you on your way.” Nathaniel dropped a small purse of coins into Jonathan's hand.
Jonathan looked up at the lawyer. “Thank you, Uncle. I'll be gone within the hour."
He sat for a little while looking down across the garden, thinking of Kate and a peaceful life of hearth and home that seemed to be forever denied him. Just as he decided the time had gone to be on his way, he felt a small hand on his shoulder and turned to see Tabitha, her eyes red from crying, with Henrietta behind her.
"Father,” she said. “I'll stay here if you promise to write often. I can't read but Aunt Henrietta says she'll teach me and I'll learn how to write too. So I can write you letters."
Jonathan took her in his arms. “You dear child,” he whispered. “Of course I'll write when I can and I promise I will come back as soon as I am able."
"And you'll marry Kate and we'll all go to live at Seven Ways?"
He smiled. “That is what I want more than anything else in the world, Tabby. Wait for me, promise?"