Page 29 of The King's Man
Kit shrugged. ‘Let her go, Thurloe, and we’ll see.’
Thurloe considered him for a moment. ‘I agree, she is an intelligent woman, Lovell. Does she have any particular skills that may be of use?’
Kit frowned. ‘She speaks fluent French and appears to be a relatively accomplished musician.’
Thurloe straightened. ‘She speaks French?’
‘As well as I do.’
‘And a musician as well. A good one?’
Kit shrugged. ‘She has had the benefit of a good education, and she sings well.’
‘Ah yes, I’ve heard about her talents in the taproom. Perhaps we could reconsider Mistress Granville’s fate.’ Thurloe’s lips twitched into what may have been considered by some a smile. ‘In fact, now I think on it, I have a task ideally suited to a woman of her talents.’
Kit stared at his master. ‘She doesn’t know that I … ’
‘Betrayed her? No. I’m sure she still thinks of you as her saviour and friend.’
‘Then shall we leave it that way?’
Thurloe shrugged. ‘She is bound to find out one day,’ he said.
‘Can I see her?’ Kit asked.
‘Dear me, Captain Lovell, if I’m not mistaken I detect a soft spot for Mistress Granville. A dangerous weakness in the game you play.’
Kit narrowed his eyes. ‘I assure you I have no weakness as regards Mistress Granville. I think she can be useful, that’s all. It is surely in both our interests for her to continue to trust me.’
‘If you say so.’ Thurloe waved a hand. ‘Oh, very well, you can go and play comforter to her if you wish.’
‘An accidental meeting, Thurloe?’
Thurloe nodded. ‘It can be arranged.’
Chapter 8
Nothing could have prepared Thamsine for the insufferable boredom of imprisonment. She had counted every stone in the walls of her cell and spent the long hours lying on her cot composing melodies in her head. Her dwindling supply of coins did not run to the luxury of pen and paper.
She was deeply absorbed in a reworking of a familiar piece for the lute when her door opened with a thud.
‘You’ve visitors,’ the turnkey said with a suitable amount of surprise in his voice.
Thamsine rose to her feet and smoothed her rumpled skirts. She could think of no one who would be visiting her other than that awful man, Thurloe, and she had no wish to see him again.
‘Well, well, Lady Muck, this is quite a comedown, ain’t it?’
The shock of seeing Nan Marsh caused Thamsine to take two steps backward. She tripped over the stool and fell back onto the narrow, flea-infested cot.
Nan stood at the door, looking around her with a faintly bemused air. ‘So this is the Tower of London? I thought they’d throw you in a dungeon. You did all right for yourself.’
Thamsine buried her head in her hands. ‘Nan, what are you doing here?’
‘I thought a pleasant stroll in the Tower of London – what a stupid question!’
‘Hello, Thamsine.’ May’s head appeared around the door.
Thamsine stared at them both in disbelief, as Nan set a basket down on the table with a thump and began unpacking it.
