Page 149 of The King's Man
Kit looked at Jem. ‘If they’ve gone south, they could be heading for Portsmouth … ’
‘Or Dover or Southampton or … ’ Jem’s mouth tightened.
‘Or Hampshire.’ Kit finished the sentence.
If they were leaving England, it seemed likely Ambrose might choose to visit his old family home and see his sister cared forin his absence, or he could simply be after Thamsine again. His blood ran cold.
‘Seems like you’ve no choice, Lovell,’ Jem said.
Kit nodded. ‘I’ll need you.’
‘What? You just want me to up and leave the Inn?’
‘Nan will manage quite well without you. I’m not up to facing Morton by myself, you know that.’
He held up his right hand with the bent and twisted fingers.
Jem shrugged. ‘Two ’orses it is, then.’
‘Two good horses, Jem, and we leave now. Hang the cost.’
Jem gave a splutter. ‘Hang the cost? Ye’ve not a farthing to yer name. I wouldn’t mind betting that was your last coin you gave the boy.’
Kit smiled. ‘I’ll repay you, Jem. You know I’m good for my debts.’
‘Oh yes?’ Jem clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Pack your things, Lovell. I’ll be back shortly.’
Chapter 55
In the cosy parlour, an early fire burned bright in the hearth while outside rain lashed the glass and the wind bent the trees, crushing the heads of the unharvested crops and bringing the day to an early end. Roger Knott sat by the unseasonable fire, reading his bible. Rebecca and Rachel sat on a settle opposite him, their heads also bent over bibles. The Sabbath had always been dutifully observed in the Knott household.
Annie sat by herself in a corner, absorbed in the dolls, an activity forbidden the other girls. Thamsine smiled as she caught Rachel casting Annie envious glances. She sat at the table working on some music. Music had been her solace in the days since Jane’s death and this anthem to honour her sister had become an obsession.
Somewhere in the house, a door crashed. Everyone looked up.
‘Just the wind,’ Thamsine said.
From the corridor beyond the door, she heard heavy footsteps and the door opened. Thamsine looked, ready to berate Stebbings for not knocking.
‘What a pleasant family scene.’
The blood froze in her veins at the sight of Ambrose Morton standing in the doorway in the act of removing his gloves.
Roger’s book fell to the ground, and the two girls looked up with curiosity on their faces as they turned to look at the stranger.
‘’Brose!’ Annie gave a cry of delight and hurled herself at her brother.
‘Hello, Annie,’ Ambrose kissed his sister before disengaging her arms. He took a few paces into the room. ‘Thamsine, my dear. Black is not your colour.’
‘If you came for Annie – ’ Thamsine began but was interrupted by Roger’s hysterical voice as the man rose to his feet.
‘I told you! I warned you!’ Roger pointed a finger at Morton.
Morton glanced at the man, who stood wringing his hands. ‘Sit down, Knott.’ He turned back to Thamsine. ‘I’ve not come for my sister. Just a neighbourly call to see how you are faring in your sad widowhood.’
Roger subsided onto his seat and Ambrose wandered over to the girls. Rachel slipped her hand into her sister’s as he smiled at them and patted Rachel on the head.
‘These must be your daughters, Knott.’
