Page 143 of The King's Man
Exhausted in mind and body, he had passed beyond the point of endurance. With an animal cry of rage and frustration,he struck the cup from Nan’s hand. It flew against the wall, shattering and spraying its contents across the floor. He had a brief impression of surprise on Nan’s face before turning away from her, hunching down in the bed with his back to her.
Chapter 51
Jem slapped a jug of wine down on the table so hard the ruby contents slopped over the edges.
‘That’s it!’ he declared. ‘That’s the last you’ll have of me.’
Kit raised his head and without responding refilled his cup. ‘You don’t mean that, Jem.’
‘I do, Lovell, and make no mistake. I’ve had two weeks of watching you drinking yourself into oblivion. Two weeks of your foul tempers are all the gratitude we get. It’s time you pulled yourself together and went looking for your wife.’
‘She’s better off without me.’ Kit downed the cup of wine in one swill. ‘I’m no good to her.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Oh Christ, Jem.’ Kit’s mouth twisted. What did the truth matter now? ‘Why do you think Thurloe had me cut down from the gallows?’
Jem shrugged.
‘Because I’ve been in his pay for the last two years. Because I was the one who sent the rest of them to their deaths.’
Jem stared at him. ‘You were the turncoat?’
Kit picked up the wine jug. His hand shook as he tried to pour the wine, slopping some on the table. When his cup was full, he looked up at his old friend, meeting Jem’s incredulous eyes.
‘I was the turncoat. I turned them all in.’
He could almost see Jem’s thought processes as he digested the information. The man he had followed into battle, had respected and maybe even loved, had just confessed to being a traitor?
It didn’t matter. Jem could not hate him any more than he hated himself.
‘You turned her in, too?’ Jem said at last.
Kit nodded.
Jem’s massive fist swung at him without warning. It caught him on the jaw and knocked him off the stool. When he opened his eyes, Jem stood over him, his fist poised to deliver another blow. Kit flinched, bracing himself for the blow or a well-deserved boot to his still-aching ribs.
‘You’re a bastard, Lovell,’ Jem said but there was no anger in his voice.
Kit opened one eye and Jem reached out his hand to pull him up. He returned to his stool, ruefully rubbing his jaw, and Jem sat down with a heavy sigh.
‘I’ve known you these ten years past,’ he said. ‘You don’t do anything without a good reason. Are you going to tell me what it is?’
‘My brother, Daniel … ’ Kit swallowed. After all these years of lies, the truth came with difficulty. ‘I was promised his release.’
‘Lovell.’ Jem shook his head and leaned forward. ‘You told me that the boy is dead.’
Kit shook his head. ‘No. They sent him to Barbados but under Thurloe’s protection. He’s still alive and, God willing, on a ship back to England.’
But even as he said the words, the nightmare that haunted him came back. What if Daniel was dead and it had all been for nothing?
‘Does Thamsine know?’
Kit nodded. ‘She knows everything about me. The very darkest corners of my soul.’ He reached for the jug, pouring himself another cup. ‘It was only a marriage of convenience, Jem. Let her think I’m dead and find someone better.’
‘Someone better? Someone like that Morton, perhaps!’
Kit snorted.
