Page 87 of The King's Man
He trawled his memory for every conversation he had ever had with Morton. Turnham Green. Morton said he had lodged with a friend at Turnham Green. A lawyer at Turnham Green. For the life of him he could not remember the name, but it would not be too hard to find a lawyer living in Turnham Green.
Kit snatched up his hat and gloves and strode out of the house.
Chapter 25
Kit’s hired horse had a mouth as hard as a rock and seemed in no hurry to reach the pretty village of Turnham Green, about an hour’s ride on a good horse from London. If nothing else, the steady pace allowed Kit time to think and by the time he reached the village, he had remembered the name of the lawyer that Lucy said she had known. Knott.An appropriate name, he thought, for the tangle he found himself in.
The name of the village rang in his memory as the site of the first confrontation of the war when the King marching on London had been turned back at Turnham Green. Such a monumental day had left no echoes in the quiet streets, and after some judicious enquiry, he found the Knotts’ neat house a little way out of the village, set well back from the London road.
A timid maid answered his knock on the door. She asked his name and showed him into a tidy parlour. The plain, unadorned furniture glowed with many polishings, and a bowl of earlyspring flowers sat squarely in the centre of the table. Kit touched the fragile blooms.
A man entered the room, shutting the door behind him. Kit’s eyes flicked over his unprepossessing appearance. He stood barely middle height, his thin body concealed behind dark clothes and his straight, greying hair had been brushed over the top of his pate to conceal a receding hairline. His pale face bore a downcast expression, which to judge from the lines was habitual.
‘Captain Lovell?’ he enquired.
Kit bowed. ‘Master Knott.’
‘What business brings you to my house?’
‘I am looking for a friend, a Mistress Thamsine Granville.’
The man’s thin lips trembled slightly. ‘I cannot help you, Captain Lovell.’
The door opened and a slight woman entered the room. Like her husband, she wore plain clothes, her greying hair covered by a neat, white cap.
‘Captain Lovell,’ she said, ‘my name is Jane Knott, I am Thamsine Granville’s sister.’
‘Thamsine’s sister? I had no idea … Your servant, ma’am.’ Kit bowed.
He scanned Jane Knott’s face for some resemblance to her sister and found none. A purple bruise marred the right side of her face and he cast the husband a quick glance, wondering if this man was capable of such violence against a woman.
As if conscious of his thoughts, Jane’s fingers touched the bruise and her eyes flickered. She turned to her husband.
‘Roger, I believe Captain Lovell is a friend of Thamsine’s. He is the only one who can help her.’
Her husband opened her mouth, but Jane put a hand on his arm.
‘Please, Roger. Thamsine needs our help.’ She turned to Kit. ‘Please sit, Captain Lovell.’
Kit removed his gloves and took the proffered chair at the table. The Knotts sat straight-backed on the hard chairs across from him as if he were interviewing them.
Kit held up a hand. ‘Mistress Knott, you must understand I know little of Thamsine’s history. I am trying to piece it together.’
Jane’s eyes widened. ‘But I thought you were friends?’
Thamsine had her reasons not to trust me,Kit thought bitterly.
‘We have an unusual relationship,’ he said. ‘More of a working relationship that I care not to go into here.’ Then, realising by the shocked looks on both the Knotts’ faces, he hastily added; ‘I assure you it was quite respectable.’Whatever “respectable” meant.‘Do you know where she is now?’
Jane’s lip trembled. ‘No.’ Her hand closed over her husband’s. ‘He took her away. Even Roger doesn’t know.’
She shot her husband a quick sideways glance and he nodded unhappily.
‘He?’ Kit prompted.
‘Ambrose Morton. Do you know him?’
‘I am acquainted with him,’ Kit said through stiff lips. ‘What business does he have with you?’
