Page 153 of The King's Man
‘Annie, sit down there, where I can see you.’ Morton gestured at a chair.
Annie obeyed and Rebecca returned to her father’s side. Thamsine stopped playing.
‘Oh, you can keep playing, Thamsine. Something sad and wistful, I think. Let us remember poor Lovell, dancing at the end of a rope. I wonder how long he took to die?’ Morton laughed and picked up the soup bowl.
Morton ate as Thamsine played, trying to think of anything except Kit dying at the end of a rope but the tears fell unbidden onto her hands.
As Lucy picked at the food. The woman seemed so far removed from the bright creature who had captivated Kit. She wondered if she had come willingly with Morton, or had circumstance forced her hand?
Ambrose pushed the dishes to one side and belched. ‘Come, Lucy, eat up.’
‘I’m not hungry, Ambrose,’ she said. ‘I just want to rest.’
‘Well, don’t let me stop you,’ he said. ‘There are ample beds upstairs, or you can lay on that settle.’ He indicated a large oak settle that stood against the wall. Lucy pushed aside her chair, gathered some cushions, and lay down on the settle.
Rachel had fallen asleep, her head on her father’s lap. Roger’s eyes were closed, his lips moving in prayer. Rebecca and Annie sat hand in hand, watching Morton as Thamsine did, waiting for his next move, his next words.
Morton picked up the jug that Lucy had brought with the tray of food and thrust it at Annie. ‘Annie, go to the kitchen and find me more ale.’
Annie didn’t move.
His voice rose. ‘Annie!’ She jumped to her feet and took the jug from him. ‘More ale!’
Her lips moved and her unhappy eyes darted from Ambrose to Thamsine.
Thamsine stopped playing and tried to give the girl an encouraging smile. ‘Do what he says, Annie.’
Annie’s mouth twisted in a trusting smile. ‘Ale,’ she said. ‘I’ll get ale.’ Repeating the word to herself, she left the room.
‘Keep playing,’ Morton ordered.
Thamsine looked up at him. ‘My fingers are tired, Ambrose.’
He shrugged. ‘Then rest them. You … ’ He indicated Rebecca. ‘Come here.’
Roger’s eyes flashed open and he put an arm around his daughter. Rebecca didn’t move.
Morton’s tongue flicked at the corners of his lips.
‘Come here, girl.’ The pistol pointed at the girl.
Rebecca rose to her feet and walked slowly towards him. She stood just out of his reach, her eyes large and fearful.
‘Take that ridiculous cap off,’ Ambrose said.
Thamsine rose to her feet.
‘What are you doing, Ambrose?’
Ambrose ignored her. ‘Take that cap off!’
The girl complied.
‘Now the pins.’
With shaking hands, Rebecca loosed her hair, letting it fall in a shining wave nearly to her waist.
‘That’s better,’ Ambrose said. ‘Now the collar.’
