Page 132 of The King's Man
His lips moved with the words ‘I love you.’
She smiled and nodded, mouthing ‘And I you,’ before the door closed behind her.
Chapter 45
‘We have a fine day for it!’ Lord Gerard looked surprisingly cheerful for a man who was about to go on trial for his life.
The cart carrying Gerard, Vowells, Fox and Kit to Westminster lurched, throwing Kit against Gerard. The four of them were manacled hand and foot. Kit raised his head to look at the bright blue cloudless sky. The warm July sun did little except exacerbate the stinking refuse in the street.
Gerard clapped him on the shoulder, with a clank of his chains. ‘Come, Lovell. Don’t lose hope. From what I hear tell you’ve been well looked after. You’re fortunate to have a wife with the means to ameliorate your condition. Has she paid for the services of a good lawyer, too?’
Kit ignored Gerard’s question. ‘What do you intend to do, Gerard?’ he asked.
‘Vowells and I intend to dispute the jurisdiction of the court,’ Lord Gerard answered.
Kit snorted. ‘Really? Somewhat presumptuous of you.’
‘It is a specially constituted court, Lovell. Cromwell knows if we go before a jury we will be acquitted.’
‘And if the trial proceeds?’
Gerard’s bearded chin jutted. ‘I’ll not admit involvement.’
‘Gerard, you’re a fool. The evidence is overwhelming.’
‘You mean you intend to admit guilt?’
Kit shrugged. ‘I am guilty.’ He looked at his fellow conspirators. Vowells and Fox sat in silence, their grim faces failing to reflect Gerard’s optimism. ‘And as all of you have willingly borne testimony to that fact, how can I deny it?’
Gerard regarded him for a moment.
‘You know there were whispers about your loyalty, Lovell. Some said you were Thurloe’s man.’
‘Did they?’
‘I denied it, of course, and then once Fitzjames was unmasked, that silenced the doubters. I do not doubt that it was Henshaw who betrayed us. But come, Lovell, I’ve known you, man and boy, and it is not in your character to admit defeat. Why?’
Kit looked away and didn’t answer. A few interested bystanders lined the streets but it would seem the fate of a small bunch of conspirators attracted little interest in the public. The cart lurched again and he winced as the barely knit bones of his hand jarred.
‘Are you fit enough for trial?’ Gerard asked, catching the pain on Kit’s face.
‘I’ve a few broken bones, not a broken mind,’ Kit replied. ‘Anyway, my trial will be brief. I told you, I will admit complicity.’
Gerard shook his head. ‘I don’t know, Lovell. Those footpads did more than break a few bones. Looks like they knocked the sense right out of you.’
***
Westminster Hall had seen the trial of a king. Now it would bear witness to the trial of those who would seek to kill a king.
Kit looked up at the vaulted roof and shivered. Despite the warmth of the day, the air in the hall felt chill. A guard pushed him forward and he shuffled towards the bench where the other three sat. The great room yawned cavernously behind them. When the King had been tried, stands had been constructed to hold the gallery of spectators. For this trial, there would be no witnesses.
He had known Thamsine would be waiting outside and looked for her in the crowd. Despite telling her to stay away, at the sight of her familiar figure, distinguished from the rest of the crowd by her height, her fine dress of dark blue with a matching mask, and the chestnut hair that curled from beneath her wide-brimmed hat, he felt comforted. In the six weeks since she had arranged an improvement to his conditions, she had visited him every day. They had been short, hurried meetings but they had made the days pass and given him something to look forward to, some reason to hope.
The four accused were seated on a backless bench, facing a raised platform where a table had been neatly set with feathered pens, ink and papers, ready for the judges. No spectators and no jury. In that respect Gerard was right. If they were tried before a jury they would undoubtedly be acquitted.
The four judges filed in and took their seats without even looking at the accused men. He didn’t recognise any of them. Not that it mattered. The whole proceeding was a sham.
The charges were read and the men asked to plead. Gerard, as the senior in age and rank, rose to his feet.
