Page 44 of The King's Man
He rolled over to watch Lucy finish her toilette. He liked the way her small hands tweaked and tugged at her hair, forcing it to her will. Thamsine could learn a trick or two from Mistress Mouse, but then, he reflected, he doubted Lucy’s curls would suit Thamsine. The untamed chestnut locks would look ridiculous.
As they stepped out into the cold, damp streets, Kit knew that if he played his cards right and endured Lucy’s vacillations, he might end up with some new bit of frippery. While he did not consider himself a fop, he did like to dress well, and with the current state of his purse and his wardrobe, any contributions were gratefully accepted.
He endured Lucy’s indecision over a dozen pairs of embroidered gloves and a length of Belgian lace, and a long discussion on the merits of apricot satin over green velvet. She rewarded him for his patience and well-chosen comments with a fine pair of embroidered kid gloves.
As they walked back to High Holborn, Lucy tucked her arm into his. ‘It’s so nice to have you all to myself for a little while,’ she said.
He drew her little hand closer. ‘I count myself a very lucky man,’ he said, ‘to have such an undemanding woman on my arm.’
Lucy gave him a coquettish smile. ‘Undemanding, am I? Just wait till we get home, Captain Lovell, and then you will see just how undemanding I can be!’
Kit laughed. The prospect of an afternoon in bed with Lucy stretched ahead of him. Life could be worse.
‘Captain Lovell, is it not?’ A tall, dark-haired man stepped into their path and bowed, sweeping his hat from his head.
Kit acknowledged the bow. ‘Colonel Morton.’
Morton straightened, allowing Kit the first real look at the man’s face in daylight. Long, thick, coal-black hair, peppered lightly with grey at the temples, curled to his shoulders, framing an oval face. Kit saw the arrogance in the man’s light grey eyes and the twist of his full lips, and felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Even if he had not been apprised of Morton’s reputation, he knew his type and instinctively disliked it.
Beside him, Lucy stirred as Morton’s eyes turned to her.
‘Mistress Talbot, Colonel Ambrose Morton.’ Kit made the introduction with some reluctance. He did not like the way Morton’s gaze slithered over Lucy’s small but perfect body, lingering on her heart-shaped face.
‘Mistress Talbot, your servant.’ Morton lifted Lucy’s gloved hand to his lips.
Kit felt a shiver run through Lucy’s body, and he put a hand possessively over the small hand that clasped his arm.
‘A pleasure, Colonel Morton. Are you and Kit old friends?’
Morton’s eyes flicked onto Kit’s face. ‘Not so much friends perhaps as casual acquaintances, Mistress Talbot. We share the unhappy circumstance of having wasted our youth in pursuit of a losing cause.’
‘I am not sure I quite share that sentiment,’ Kit demurred.
‘Oh come, Lovell, you must admit that it is time to make a fresh start in life. Or do you still hanker after what cannot be?’
Kit stared at the man’s handsome, smiling face, unsure of how to answer the question.
Lucy interposed before he could reply. ‘Are you staying in London, Colonel?’
He shook his head. ‘At the moment I lodge with friends at Turnham Green, Mistress Talbot.’
‘Oh, a pretty village,’ Lucy exclaimed. ‘I know of someone who lives there. Who is your friend?’
‘Master Roger Knott. He is a lawyer of some repute. Are you acquainted with him?’
Lucy’s face lit up and she withdrew her hand from Kit’s arm.
‘Oh, I know him well. My late husband used his services as a lawyer, and he has been a great support to me since Martin’s death.’
Ambrose raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, so you are Martin Talbot’s widow?’
Lucy’s head bobbed, the feather in her hat rising and falling. ‘Indeed. Did you know my husband?’
Ambrose shook his head. ‘No, but I have heard Knott speak of him … and you.’
Kit shifted his feet. ‘Lucy, it’s getting late and it’s cold … ’
Lucy looked up at him and smiled. ‘Of course.’ She held out her hand to Morton, curtseying as he bowed over it. ‘I bid you a good day, Colonel.’
