Page 161 of The King's Man
‘Master Lovell, I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop him!’ Stebbings panted to a halt behind Jem Marsh.
‘Jem!’ Kit jumped to his feet to face his old friend, seizing him by the hand.
Jem looked him up and down and nodded. ‘Country life seems to suit you.’
Thamsine rose to her feet, shaking out her skirts. ‘It is good to see you, Jem. How are the girls?’
‘May’s gone and married that carter,’ Jem said. ‘We miss her in the taproom.’
‘I must send her a gift,’ Thamsine said. ‘And Nan?’
In answer, Jem rolled his eyes.
‘What brings you here?’ Kit asked.
‘I’ve a letter for ye.’ Jem fished in his jacket, produced a crumpled paper and handed it to Kit.
Kit turned the paper over and his lips tightened.
‘Thurloe,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Perhaps it is news of Daniel’s arrival,’ she said, hopefully, but a premonition of dread ran down Thamsine’s spine. Thurloe would not write unless he had very good reason.
‘You must be tired after your journey, Jem. Stebbings, make sure Master Marsh has some food and drink and is shown to the guest bedchamber. We will come up to the house shortly.’
Jem nodded, his eyes resting on Kit’s bent head.
‘A strong ale won’t go astray,’ Jem said and set off back towards the house with Stebbings panting after him.
Kit handed Thamsine the letter. ‘I can’t open it,’ he said.
She took the letter and broke the seal. Another packet fell out onto the ground. Thamsine retrieved it and turned the paper she held in her hand over. Thurloe himself had written nothing, so whatever news he wished to convey would be contained in the enclosure.
She took a deep breath and unfolded the missive, scanning the unfamiliar handwriting. A cry escaped her lips and she looked up at her husband, unable to contain the tears that started in her eyes.
‘Daniel?’ he asked through tight lips.
She nodded and handed him the paper.
He read the short missive aloud.
My Lord Thurloe,
Further to your enquiry regarding the prisoner Daniel Lovell, sent here as a traitor to the Commonwealth of England, I am reliably informed that he was indentured to one Jeremiah Pritchard of King’s County. It is my sad duty to advise that the said prisoner died of the fever common to these parts in February of this year of our Lord. If I can be of any further service, Yr obedient servant Willoughby
Daniel took a step back, doubling up as if someone had hit him in the stomach, all the colour draining from his face.
‘Kit … ’ Thamsine took a step towards him but he shook his head, sinking down with his back to the tree. The paper fell unregarded to the ground.
‘No! I don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘No, no, no … it can’t be true.’
Thamsine picked up the fallen paper.
‘Kit, the Governor of Barbados himself says he is dead. He could just as easily have died of a fever safe in his own bed in England.’
‘No!’ Kit muffled the animal howl of pain in his hands. ‘He can’t be dead. It can’t all have been for nothing.’ He looked up at her. ‘Every despicable act of betrayal I justified to myself with the thought it brought an innocent boy closer to his freedom. Now, all those deaths, those ghosts … they haunt me, Tham.They will haunt me until the day I die and now, Daniel … ’ His face crumpled in despair. ‘God help me, I should have died on that scaffold.’
Thamsine dropped to the ground in front of him and clasped his hands between hers.
