Page 162 of The King's Man
‘I would be dead if it were not for you, Kit Lovell. You saved my life. Don’t ever forget that. Your life was spared for a reason, and you have the rest of your time on this Earth to make amends for the events of the past years, but for now, you have to let yourself grieve for Daniel. He chose to take up a sword and he was not a boy. He made the decision as an adult. He was not your responsibility. You didn’t fail him on that day or any of the days that followed.’
Kit shook off her hands and rose to his feet. He paced the ground beneath the tree, his face working with a thousand conflicting emotions as he ran his fingers again and again through his hair.
‘No,’ he said stopping his frantic pacing. ‘No. I won’t believe it.’ He glanced down at Thamsine. ‘Not until I stand by his grave.’
Thamsine rose to her feet.
‘You are not suggesting that you go to Barbados?’
‘Thamsine, I have to satisfy myself, know how he passed these last years. You have to let me go.’
She took a step towards him, grasping his shirt by the laces. She shook her head. ‘I am not letting you walk away from me again.’
‘Thamsine, please.’
‘If you go, I go too.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I will not let you go alone. Kit, I have lost you once. Don’t make me lose you again.’
She glared at him and he returned her angry stare with a slow inclination of his head. ‘Very well. We will go together, but first there is something else I have to do.’
‘What is that?’
Kit’s lips tightened. ‘I have to face his mother.’
Chapter 60
Nothing remained of Eveleigh Priory but the east wing. Nature had reclaimed the blackened ruins of the once-great house, built in the later years of Great Henry’s reign on the ruins of one of his ransacked monasteries. Ivy trailed through the empty window recesses like worms through the eyes of a skull, and the dried early autumnal leaves rustled together in eddies and gathered at his horse’s hooves.
Riding pillion behind him, Thamsine’s fingers tightened in Kit’s belt and he turned to look at her.
‘I warned you,’ he said.
‘I’d not imagined that it would be quite so bad,’ she replied.
Kit put his heels to the horse, urging it forward. An old woman paused in sweeping the front steps leading up to the door. Her eyes widened as she recognised him. Before he could greet Old Alice, she dropped the broom and ran inside.
‘M’lady, m’lady!’ Kit heard her voice echoing through the house. ‘He’s back! Back from the grave.’
As Kit dismounted, a woman in a rusty black dress appeared at the door, wiping her hands on an apron. She pushed back a tendril of greying hair that strayed from beneath her cap and squinted short-sightedly at the visitors.
Kit lifted Thamsine down from the pillion saddle and turned to face his stepmother. He swept his hat from his head and gave her a low bow.
‘Madam,’ he said.
Disappointment flooded her face.
‘You! I thought … ’ she began.
He knew what she had thought. She had been expecting Daniel. He walked towards her and stood at the bottom of the steps looking up at her.
‘Margaret … ’ he started to say but got no further.
She picked up the abandoned broom and began to hit him. Kit put up his hands to protect his head from the frenzied blows Margaret Lovell rained down on him.
‘I told you never to darken my doorstep again!’
