The King's Man (33 page)

"Mistress Lovell. An unexpected surprise.” Thurloe rose to his feet. “Shouldn't you be on a boat to Barbados?"

"He's been arrested."

A look of surprise flitted across John Thurloe's face. Genuine surprise, Thamsine thought with a jolt, but the familiar guarded look returned just as quickly to the dark face.

"There is a warrant for his arrest. I did tell him that.” Thurloe sounded guarded.

"But you know he was never intended to be arrested."

He spread his hands. “I can't control everything, Mistress Gran—Lovell. It's unfortunate that my diligent officers effected his arrest, but I assure you it is not of my doing."

"Then undo it."

Thurloe leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I regret, it can't be undone."

"But surely there is something you can do?"

His expression was bland. “I warned him that there was nothing I could do if he was caught. I'm sorry, Mistress Lovell, but I'm afraid your husband is on his own and must face the consequences.” He paused. “I'm sure I don't need to tell you what those could be."

Thamsine felt the blood drain from her face. “Are you saying that he could die?"

Thurloe's mouth was a grim line. “Mistress Lovell, please understand, I can't save him without betraying everything I have worked for. If it comes to a choice between the life of one man and the good of the nation, I'm afraid your husband is on his own."

"But there will be a trial?"

"Of course."

"But you said that there would be deaths."

Thurloe looked away. “Unavoidable but necessary. The message must be sent that these conspiracies will not be tolerated. Go home, Mistress Lovell, and pray. That is all you can do."

Thamsine backed towards the door. “You can't let him die. Not after all he has done for you."

"He knew the risks.” Thurloe's tone was icy.

"But he was doing it for his brother, not for his own motives."

"His motives are irrelevant."

"You blackmailed him into it!"

"Mistress Lovell, don't be fooled into thinking your husband acted purely out of concern for his brother. He was paid and paid well for his work. His brother will be freed. As far as I am concerned, the books are closed. There is nothing further to be done. Now leave me."

Thamsine felt her breath coming in short gasps at the perfidy of this man who had used Kit for his ends and would now sit back and let him die. She stood in the doorway watching him, until his secretary came and physically removed her.

In the days that followed, every morning Thamsine walked to the Tower of London only to be turned away at the gate. After another abortive visit, she trudged miserably back to the Ship Inn, which bustled with its usual dinnertime activity. May and Nan were back at work, skilfully avoiding the groping hands and ribald remarks.

Jem looked up from his position at the keg. “Still won't let you see him?” he asked.

Thamsine shook her head.

"I'm sorry lass,” Jem shook his head. “It's a grim look out."

Heartsick, Thamsine turned for the stairs.

"Hold on, lass. There's a man in the parlor waiting for you,” Jem said. “I told him I'd not heard of you but he insisted on staying. Says he won't go till he sees you."

Thamsine turned. “Not...?” Her heat skipped a beat.

Jem read her thoughts. “Not Morton. I've not seen him before. Weedy specimen. Middle height, thin face, fair hair. Balding. He gave me this for you.” Jem held out a grubby note.

Thamsine took it and unfolded it.

Sister,

I know you will not wish to see me but I beg you hear me out. Jane has been taken ill and is asking for you. She has been ailing all winter and I fear she may not see out the summer. I have done many great wrongs by you and I beg this chance to be forgiven.

Yrs in penitence,

Rgr Knott esq

Thamsine looked at the parlor door. For a brief moment she remembered that first night when she had sung for Kit Lovell. He had stood in that doorway, watching her, a tall, lean shadow with laughter in his eyes.

I saw a handsome proper youth

And he was wondrous fine

But when I understood the truth,

His case was worse than mine,

On wine and drabs, he did all spend

Which wrought his overthrow,

So fortune plac'd him in the end,

With beggars all a row.

She sang the words softly. So much had happened in those few short months since that day in February. She sighed, straightened her shoulders and opened the door.

Roger sat straight-backed in one of the oak chairs, his hat and gloves neatly placed on the table before him. He stood up as she entered, his eyes flicking to the sturdy figure of Jem Marsh, looming behind her.

"She's dying, Thamsine,” were his opening words as he ran his fingers through his lank, thinning hair.

"She seemed in good enough health when I last saw her,” Thamsine replied coldly.

He shook his head. “She's not been well for a long time. Her lungs, the doctor says. She wants to see you."

Thamsine stood quite still. “Did she tell you where I was to be found?"

Roger nodded.

Thamsine fixed him with her eyes. “Did you betray Captain Lovell?"

Roger looked surprised. “Captain Lovell. No? Why would I do that? What are you talking about?"

Thamsine searched his face but saw only confusion and worry.

"Wait here. I have something for you, Roger."

She left him and returned with a packet of papers, which she threw down on the table before him.

"Your letters,” she spat. “The letters you wrote to the Talbot doxy."

Roger picked them up, counting them.

"They're all here,” he said and looked up at her in wonder. “How...?"

"Kit Lovell risked his life to get those, paid for them with his blood. Now I am buying your loyalty with them, Roger. I need your help."

"What do you want of me?"

"I'm a married woman now, Roger."

He paled. “Not Morton?"

She shook her head. “Not Morton. I married Kit Lovell. I am, like you, free of Morton."

"You? You married Lovell?” Roger stared at her. “Does Morton know?"

She shook her head. “I don't know and I don't really care but I need your help to unwind his grasp from my estate. Can you do that?"

Roger nodded. “With pleasure, Thamsine. I...” He tailed off, tears welling in his eyes. “Words cannot express how appallingly I have failed you."

She regarded him coldly. “I am prepared to let the past be, for the moment. Now, what of Jane?"

"I have this for you.” Roger handed her a piece of paper. She unfolded it and a ring fell out. She caught it and held it in her fingers.

"My grandmother's ring,” she said then turned to the note.

Dearest sister,

I am sending Roger to you on this errand in the hope that I can see you again before you leave. I dared not tell you about my illness for fear it would worry you and you seem to have enough worries. This may be the last time I will see you, so if it is possible, dearest, please come. Roger's contrition is genuine. He does not wish you any harm and you are free to leave at any time.

Yr. Loving sister,

Jane

She looked at her brother-in-law who seemed to shrink inside his collar.

"God is calling my wife. It's a punishment for my sins. There is nothing Morton can do to me that matters. If indeed you are now married, then you are free of him. Let us put the past behind us."

Thamsine studied him with narrowed eyes. All the fierce pride and resistance had gone from him. He looked old, tired and desperately unhappy. She sighed. He was right; there was little she could for Kit, Ambrose was no threat for the moment and there seemed nothing to be gained from ignoring his plea. Jane had come to her aid when she needed it and her skill had saved Kit's hand, if not his life.

"Very well, Roger, I will come with you but it is on the understanding that I can come and go of my own free will."

The relief on Roger's face was pathetic. He rose to his feet and picked up his hat and gloves. “We must leave now, Thamsine. There is not a moment to waste if we are to reach Turnham Green before dark."

Riding pillion behind Roger, Thamsine began to regret her impulsive decision. What if it was a trap? What if Jane was hail and hearty and it was Ambrose waiting for her? Jem had argued with her about her decision to go but then she remembered Jane's shadowed eyes and the cough and knew in her heart that all was not well with her sister.

The house in Turnham Green looked silent and grim in the gathering gloom as if death already waited by the door. She shivered as Roger helped her down off the back of his bay mare.

Thamsine followed Roger into the house and up the stairs to the main bedchamber. Roger had spoken the truth. Jane lay propped on the bolsters, her eyes sunken in her waxen face.

"She came, my dear.” Roger crossed to his wife, picking up her hand in a tender, intimate gesture that Thamsine had never seen before. “I'll leave you with her."

Thamsine stood by the bed and looked down at her sister.

"Why didn't you tell me how sick you were?"

Jane managed a wan smile. “What concern was it of yours, dearest? I have known for a long time that it was the lung disease and it would kill me."

"Do you cough blood?"

Jane nodded. “I have for some months. Now tell me, how is your Captain Lovell?"

Thamsine's face crumpled. “He's in the Tower, Jane. They took him away a week ago and won't let me see him."

"I'm sorry,” Jane said.

Thamsine laid her head on her sister's bed and wept.

"You don't understand, Jane. Kit and I are married. We were to take ship to Barbados when the soldiers came. There was no escape. An hour later and we would have been gone!"

She looked up and saw the sympathy and confusion in her sister's eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me that you were married?” Jane asked.

Thamsine shook her head. “It didn't seem important. What mattered was his hand."

Jane took her sister's hands in her frail grasp. “What will become of him?"

"He...” Thamsine faltered. “...he may hang."

"Your Captain is a good man, Thamsine. He pretends not to be but in his heart he is a good man. I told him he should marry you and he did. You are free of Ambrose Morton now and that is what matters..."

Thamsine smiled. “No, Jane, you don't understand. I didn't marry Kit for that reason. I married him because I love him. I have loved him from the day we met."

Her sister studied her face. “Then we must speak to Roger, get him the very best lawyer we can."

She broke off, struggling for breath, her frail body wracked with coughing. Thamsine held her, holding a cloth to her lips, wiping away the bright blood. Gently she laid her sister back on the bolsters.

"Thamsine, I'm very tired ... let me sleep a little. When I wake we can talk some more.” Jane's voice struggled with her breath.

Thamsine stood up and straightened the bolsters behind her sister's head. As Jane sank back into them and closed her eyes, Thamsine sat down beside the bed, taking Jane's hand in her hers, overwhelmed by the depth of her emotions. Perhaps some of her strength would pass to Jane and she would recover.

Despite the years they had been apart, she could not imagine a life without her. How cruel to lose Jane just as she had found her again. She felt the pricking of tears in her eyes and choked them back, kissing her sister gently on the head.

The day slipped away and night had fallen before Jane woke. Thamsine stood at the window, her arms crossed in front of her body, staring out at the gloom. After the clear day, the stars burned brilliantly in the country air.

"Thamsine?” Jane's voice made her turn. “Are you still here?"

Thamsine turned and gave her sister a weak smile. “I'm not going anywhere, Jane. My place is by your side for the moment. There is little I can do for Kit. You, on the other hand, need me."

Jane tried to pull herself up in the bed. Thamsine was by her side, straightening the bolsters and assisting her. The door opened and Roger stood in the doorway, in his shirtsleeves, a candle in his hand.

"How are you, my dear?"

"I have slept a little,” Jane replied. Her hand tightened on Thamsine's. “Having Thamsine with me has eased the pain."

"Mary is coming with a little supper for you, my dear,” Roger said. “Thamsine, would you care to join me in the parlor?"

Thamsine nodded. She felt tired, desperately tired, as the events of the long day caught up with her. She bent and kissed her sister.

"I shall return after supper, Jane. Roger, I would like a cot made up in the closet so I can be near my sister should she need me at night."

Roger nodded and stood aside as Thamsine passed him.

The table in the parlor had been set for two. Thamsine sank into a chair as Roger intoned a quick grace.

"Where are the children?” she asked.

"They are with my mother in Colchester."

"Bring them home, Roger."

"Do you think that is wise?"

"They should be with their mother. She needs them and they her."

He nodded. “I will send for them in the morning and you, Thamsine, will you return to London?"

She shook her head and looked down at the frayed cuff of the old gown. She had almost forgotten that she was a wealthy woman and the wife of the heir to Viscount Midhurst. She was not going to be afraid any more.

"No, I shall stay here. I am tired of wearing rags and living my life in shadows, Roger. I am not going to run or hide any more. Tomorrow you are to find the best lawyer my money can buy for my husband, and I shall find a tailor."

Kit woke to the sound of the door opening. He sat up too fast, his right hand striking the wall behind him and his ribs pulling painfully. He subsided with a curse against the wall as a lantern shone in his eyes.

"Is this him?” he heard the turnkey ask.

"This is him. Leave us."

"Thurloe!” Kit hissed. “Pleased with your work?"