Page 129 of The King's Man
‘You have, of course, yet to be interrogated,’ Thurloe said.
‘I can hardly wait.’
‘It will go better for you if you admit your involvement.’
Kit looked up at Thurloe and gave a grim smile. ‘Will it, Thurloe? How will it go better for me?’
‘It may mean the difference between the noose, or … ’
‘Transportation to some godforsaken place as a slave, like my brother? A lifetime of a thousand deaths? How is that better? All I want is my freedom, Thurloe. God help me, I earned it.’
Thurloe’s cold eyes rested on his face. ‘You’re a card player, Lovell. There are no certainties in life except death.’ Thurloe replaced his hat on his head and turned to go.
Kit looked at his back.
‘Thurloe, if nothing else, will you see that my brother is released?’
‘That is already in train. He will be returned to England as soon as my orders reach Barbados. On that, you have my word.’
‘Thank you.’
Thurloe stopped in the doorway and, without looking around, said quietly. ‘Admit your involvement, Lovell.’
‘And?’
‘I will not make any promises, but deny the charges and you will certainly hang.’
Chapter 44
The cold grey walls of the Tower of London loomed above the foetid moat. Trying hard to control her trembling hands, Thamsine raised her head and tightened her grip on the bundle she carried. This time she would be admitted, of that she was certain.
She demanded to see Barkstead. The guards looked her up and down and, as she had anticipated, she was admitted to his presence without argument. Barkstead rose to his feet and bowed. Beneath her black velvet mask, Thamsine smiled. His demeanour to a lady of rank bore a startling contrast to his treatment of Mistress Granville, the failed assassin of the Lord Protector.
‘I’m here to see my husband.’ She made it a demand, not a question.
‘And you are?’
‘Mistress Lovell. My husband is Captain Christopher Lovell.’
Barkstead’s mouth opened and his eyes narrowed. ‘Do I know you, Mistress Lovell?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Thamsine replied.
‘Your husband … ’
‘My husband was brought here seven days ago. Is he being well treated?’
‘I … ’ Barkstead shuffled some papers.
Thamsine laid a purse on the table. The clink made Barkstead’s eyes widen. ‘I want my husband placed in good accommodation with decent food,’ she said. ‘Treat him well and I will see you well rewarded.’
Barkstead blinked, ducking his head like a goose. ‘Of course, Mistress Lovell. I will personally ensure his every need is catered to.’
‘Good. Now I wish to see him.’
‘What is in the bundle?’ Barkstead indicated the bundle she carried. ‘It’s just I need to know … ’ he added, almost apologetically.
‘Clean clothes,’ she said, ‘A few books, nothing more. See for yourself.’
