Page 131 of The King's Man
‘And how will Thurloe help you?’
He shook his head. ‘He can save me from the noose.’
‘For what? Imprisonment? Banishment?’
‘For life, Thamsine but the late King said “While I have life I have hope”.’
‘And look what happened to him!’ Thamsine could not disguise the bitterness in her voice.
‘I will go to trial, admit my guilt, show contrition, remorse … ’
‘And maybe, just maybe … you will end up on a slave plantation in Barbados with your brother?’
He dropped his hand. The cell was not large enough for him to walk away but he took a step back.
‘I have to believe that this is the right course of action, Thamsine.’
‘I have a lawyer. He can advise you.’ Thamsine could hear the note of desperation in her voice.
‘For God’s sake, a lawyer is not going to save me! They have my confession, they have the testimony of a dozen witnesses. A lawyer will just as surely send me to my grave.’
Thamsine picked up her cloak and mask and took a deep, steadying breath.
‘If that is how you want it,’ she said in a flat voice.
‘That is how it has to be,’ he said gently. ‘Look at me, Tham.’
She raised her head and looked into his eyes.Green eyes, nice eyes.
‘Trust Thurloe,’ he said. ‘Trust me.’
‘I trusted you before and look where that got me.’ She smiled without humour. ‘It seems I have no choice.’
He smiled in return. ‘That’s better. Now, what’s in that bundle?’
‘Some clean linen.’ She looked around the cell. ‘Money buys favours. Barkstead will improve your accommodation. If he doesn’t, he will have me to answer to.’
Kit smiled. ‘I knew there was a good reason to marry a woman with money.’
‘I will also have a tailor attend you,’ she said. ‘You will need to look well for your trial. Is there a date set?’
He shook his head. ‘It will be a few weeks yet. They have to constitute a special court. They don’t dare try us in open court before a jury. Too much public sympathy.’
‘So much for justice.’ Thamsine shuddered and changed the subject. ‘How’s your hand?’
He looked down at the filthy bandage. ‘It took a couple of knocks on my way here, but it’s healing. Every day I get a little more movement back, but … ’ His voice tailed off.
Thamsine unwound the bandage and touched the crooked, still-splinted fingers. When she looked up, she saw the anguish in his eyes. He saw, as she did, that he would never use the hand again. Not for the things that mattered.
‘I brought you Francis Bacon and a couple of your other books,’ Thamsine said as she inexpertly rebound the hand with a fresh bandage, hiding the ruined fingers from sight.
She stood up and leaned her head against his shoulder and his good arm encircled her, drawing her close. His lips brushed her hair, and they stood wrapped in each other until the turnkey rapped on the door.
As they broke apart and stood looking at each other, hand in hand like children, Thamsine felt her self-control begin to crumble. She had never thought it possible to love anyone as much as she loved Kit Lovell. Their time together had been so short and yet so intense.
He lowered his head, his lips seeking out hers, his left hand meshing in her hair. They kissed as soulmates, drawing on each other’s strengths, each willing the other to survive no matter what.
Thamsine took the few steps to the door of the cell and looked back. Kit did not move.
