Page 47 of The King's Man
‘If you need me, my sword is yours,’ he said, trying to keep the tone of dull resignation from his voice.
‘Good man.’ Fitzjames nodded approval and turned to Henshaw and Wiseman. ‘God speed you both on your journey.’
They clasped hands across the table. ‘We will get word to you as soon as we can.’ Henshaw said with a smile
After Henshaw and Wiseman left, Kit turned to Gerard and Fitzjames.
‘You trust them?’
Fitzjames shrugged. ‘We have to. There are so few left, Lovell.’
‘Charles won’t see them, Fitz. Their reputations stink as high as a week-old corpse. Do you know their history? They’re deserters and opportunists.’
‘Rumours, Lovell, just rumours.’
What truth there was to those rumours, Kit had no idea. Thurloe was not in the habit of disclosing who else was in his pay. He could just as easily have Fitzjames as Henshaw in his pocket, and there would be no way of knowing. At the end of the day, no one could truly be trusted.
‘What of the Sealed Knot?’ he ventured.
Fitz looked at him. ‘What about it?’
‘Are they involved in this or is it another frolic?’
Gerard narrowed his eyes. ‘Fitzjames is right. I detect a tone of cynicism, Lovell.’
‘I’ve just spent three long weeks in the Tower of London, Gerard, so forgive me if I sound cynical,’ Kit snapped.
Fitz placed a restraining hand on his arm. ‘To answer your question, Lovell, no, the Knot is not involved, but with the influence of Lord Gerard in Paris, the King’s consent to this venture can be obtained and with it the co-operation of the Sealed Knot.’
Kit ran a hand through his hair. ‘I wish I had your confidence, Fitz.’
Fitz shrugged. ‘Confidence or foolhardiness, Lovell?’
Kit shook his head. ‘Whatever it is, shall we leave all talk of it for now? Are either of you game for cards?’
Chapter 13
Thamsine chewed the end of her pen and scratched a few more notes of her small composition onto the paper. She felt it would suit Mary Skippon’s limited musical abilities and give the girl some confidence. Fortunately, the taproom was quiet and the fire burned brightly, making it a more congenial place to work than her room.
‘Am I disturbing you?’
Thamsine looked up. Kit Lovell stood watching her, his hat in his hand. Her heart gave a skip at the sight of his smile.
‘Lovell! You’re free.’
He inclined his head. ‘The same could be said for you, Mistress Granville.’ He tilted his head to one side and looked her up and down. ‘Might I say you look remarkably respectable for someone who has just spent the better part of a month in the Tower of London.’
Thamsine felt the heat rise to her cheeks. ‘My fortunes are somewhat changed since last we met. I have employment.’
Kit raised an eyebrow. ‘Indeed?’
‘I am tutoring a member of the French Ambassador’s household in music.’
Kit raised his eyebrows. ‘You surprise me! How did you stumble on this good fortune?’
Thamsine looked down at the paper she had been working on. ‘Through a friend,’ she mumbled and hoped Kit would ask no more questions.
Unbidden, Kit sat down opposite her. ‘Is it going well?’ he asked.
