Page 168 of The King's Man
‘Is this the best of island ‘ospitality?’ Kit became more French by the minute.
‘Ye’ll get no hospitality here. We don’t like visitors,’ Outhwaite said and leered at the girl, cowering at the foot of the stairs. ‘Do we, Clara? They upsets the old man.’
A prickle of fear ran down Thamsine’s spine and she glanced at Clara. The girl gave a barely perceptible jerk of her head in the direction of the stairs. Thamsine caught the look and understood. She swayed and grasped at her husband.
‘Mon cher,’she said in French. ‘Je me sens faible. Aide moi.’
‘What did she say?’ Outhwaite said.
She glanced at Outhwaite but he did not seem to have understood what she said.Good. It meant they could converse in French.
‘Cherie?’ Kit caught her as her knees buckled as if she would fall into a dead faint at any moment. ‘My wife is overcome by the heat,monsieur. At least allow us a few minutes respite from the ‘eat.’
‘I’ll be all right if I can just lie down for a little while,’ Thamsine said in English, adding in French. ‘Quelque chose est très mal ici.’
Something was very wrong.
Kit nodded. ‘It is,’ he agreed in a low voice. ‘She says she needs to lie down,’ Kit said.
Outhwaite frowned and jerked a head at the maid. ‘Take her upstairs to the spare room.’
The girl came forward and slid her arm around Thamsine’s waist. She barely came to Thamsine’s shoulder.
‘Does the girl speak French?’ Kit enquired of Outhwaite.
‘Barely speaks English!’ Outhwaite scoffed. ‘Jabbers away in that godforsaken tongue of hers.’
‘Dommage,’ Kit said.
The maid left Thamsine in a small chamber at the top of the stairs. The bedding on the narrow cot smelled musty and damp and as soon as the maid returned, with water and a cloth, Thamsine sat bolt upright.
The girl’s eyes widened at Thamsine’s instant recovery.
‘You better?’ she asked.
Thamsine put a finger to her lips. ‘My name is Thamsine Lovell.’
The girl cried out, clapping her hand over her mouth. ‘Lovell? Daniel?’
Thamsine nodded. ‘My husband is Daniel’s brother, Kit.’
The girl sank onto the bed beside Thamsine and turned tear-filled eyes on her. ‘He was a good man, Massa Daniel.’
‘Is it true he is dead?’
The tears spilled over and she nodded.
Thamsine felt her heart sink.
Clara glanced at the door. ‘Tha’s what Outhwaite told Master.’
Thamsine caught her breath. ‘What do you mean?’
Clara shook her head. She had begun to shake.
‘He a bad man, that Outhwaite.’
Catching the girl’s hands, Thamsine sought her eyes and said, ‘Is Daniel dead or not?’
