Page 135 of The King's Man
He set the pen down and with a shuddering sigh closed his eyes, the memory of their farewell too painful. There had been so much left unsaid, so much he needed to say. Written wordsseemed so much easier than spoken words. Everything he had planned to say to her that afternoon had entirely escaped him when confronted with her love and her grief.
With renewed determination he picked up the pen and began:
By the time you read this, I will be dead. It is strange to know the exact hour of my death, a privilege not afforded many. I try not to think of the manner of my end and just pray that it will be swift. It is customary, I suppose, at times like this, to have regrets, but I find myself curiously thankful for my life. I have made many mistakes and done many things of which I am not proud but at no time could I ever say that my life was dull. One of the few good things I have done, and by far the best, was to pluck you from the crowd on that cold day in February. These few months that you have been a part of my life, you have brought me absolute joy and taught me for the first time what it is to love a person completely and unconditionally.
I have nothing of any value to leave you. A poor showing for my life, I know. Eveleigh and the empty title that goes with it will devolve to Daniel. I have to trust Thurloe’s assurances that he will return safely. Pray for Daniel, Thamsine, as you pray for me.
Kit paused and shook his aching hand as he pondered how to conclude this farewell.
Finally, my dearest Thamsine, I can do nothing more than wish you a happy life. Free yourself of the past ties and enjoy what is now your fortune. If our marriage accomplished nothing but your liberation then I die happy in that knowledge. There is nothing more I can say, words are inadequate, but I will hold your face in my memory until the end. Remember me always.
Yr loving and affectionate husband, Kit Lovell.
Kit sanded the letter, shook off the sand and re-read the scrawl. Carefully, he folded the paper and sealed it, addressing it toThamsine Lovell, care of The Ship Inn, and set it aside. It still lacked a few hours to dawn, a few more hours to make his peace with the world. He sat by the window to watch and wait.
As the sky began to lighten through the window, he looked up at his last dawn and memories of other dawns flooded him – those he had spent around campfires before battles, in bed with pretty girls… No, he had no regrets, except that he would be parted forever from Thamsine.
He rose to his feet and dressed carefully in a new suit of good blue cloth, ordered by Thamsine. Unable to use his right hand, he hadn’t shaved properly since his encounter with Morton, so he had ordered the services of a barber, who had attended to him the previous evening. He intended to go to the scaffold looking every inch the gentleman that he was.
The door opened and Barkstead loomed in the doorway. ‘Ready to meet the Lord, Lovell?’ he asked.
‘You are optimistic about where I am headed,’ Kit replied.
‘I am a great believer in a forgiving God,’ Barkstead said. ‘The pastor is here if you wish to pray.’
‘I’ve made my peace with God,’ Kit replied. ‘However, I have no objections to him saying a few words on my behalf.’
He picked up the letter to Thamsine. ‘You will see this delivered?’
Barkstead nodded and stowed the letter in his jacket. Kit fastened his jacket, hoping Barkstead didn’t notice that his fingers shook in the task. He straightened the collar and took a deep breath.
Barkstead gave an approving chuckle. ‘Very nice, Captain Lovell. ‘Tis a pity there will be no crowd to admire you.’
‘No crowd?’ Kit smiled. ‘I hear Vowells had quite a send-off.’
‘No, for you, ’tis a private affair, here in the Tower.’ Barkstead shrugged. ‘You must have a friend somewhere.’
Kit almost laughed. Was this the best Thurloe could do for him?
After the pastor had pronounced some solemn thoughts on the future of Kit’s soul, Barkstead stood to one side.
‘After you, Captain Lovell,’ he said.
Kit took a deep breath, trying to calm the churning in his stomach. His limbs felt wooden and unresponsive. He closed his eyes and willed them to obey. He would not be dragged to the gibbet, hysterical and screaming, but would die with what little dignity he had.
He could, he supposed as he descended the narrow, winding stairs, have insisted on beheading. It was his right as a member of the aristocracy, but then few people knew who he was, and those who had known had forgotten or were dead. No, he would die, as he had lived, as a commoner and besides, from what the gossip had told him, Lord Gerard’s despatch at the hands of a headsman had been unpleasant in the extreme.Four goes to lop it off,the turnkey had said.
A scaffold had been erected in the courtyard and the wood smelled crisp and fresh in the cool morning air. As he mounted the steps to the platform he forced himself to look up. The noose stirred slightly in the chill breeze off the river. His step faltered and for a moment he thought his nerve would fail him.
He looked away, seeing two men standing below the scaffold, well-wrapped in their cloaks, hats hiding their eyes. He barely glanced at them and wondered if they had their breakfast before or after the deed took place.
‘Anything you wish to say?’ Barkstead asked as one of his men secured Kit’s arms behind his back.
In the hours before dawn, Kit had rehearsed several well-chosen words; now they escaped him completely. He shiveredand looked at the banner of the Commonwealth flying high above the White Tower. He thought of Lord Gerard and his lengthy speech to the gathered crowd. For Kit Lovell, there was no crowd, and professions of innocence and declarations of loyalty to the King and his country seemed misplaced and hypocritical. He shook his head.
The hangman pulled him towards the stool and he stepped onto it.
He swallowed, took a last deep breath of air, tinged with the stench of a London summer, as the man hung the noose around his neck. The weight of the cord, pulled down by the heavy knot, hung slackly on his shoulders. A well-tied knot would see his neck snap. It would be quick.
