Page 70 of The King's Man
‘You found her!’ Jane spoke over her sister’s head, no doubt addressing her husband. ‘Oh, my dear, you’ve no idea how worried I’ve been.’
Thamsine was wrested away from Jane’s reassuring arm by Ambrose. He held her by the shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh.
Jane looked at her husband. ‘Roger, I don’t understand.’
Roger swallowed. ‘There is nothing to understand. Thamsine is to be confined to the small bedchamber until I am satisfied that she is contrite for her high-handed behaviour towards Colonel Morton.’
‘Thamsine?’ Jane looked at her sister.
‘Jane, I—’
Thamsine opened her mouth to speak, but Ambrose had shifted his grip on her arm. With Roger following, he half-dragged, half-carried her up the stairs and thrust her inside the smallest bedchamber.
Thamsine stumbled against the bed, falling onto it. Ambrose stood over her, his handsome face completely devoid of expression.
‘What are you going to do with me?’ Her voice quavered. She knew only too well what he was capable of doing.
‘Nothing,’ he said, straightening. ‘I intend to do nothing for the moment. Your brother-in-law seems to think he can persuade you to see sense.’
He took a step back, allowing her to sit up. Roger stood in the doorway. She remembered him as a serious young man with good prospects in the law. Now in early middle age, his narrow face was lined, and the blue eyes faded and sunken. His thinning, fair hair hung lankly to his collar and he looked like a man twice his age.
When he stepped into the room and stood beside Morton. He barely reached Morton’s shoulder in height. A little man with big ambitions.
‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ he asked, employing the tone he would use for one of his daughters.
‘Roger,’ Thamsine sat up, straightening her collar. ‘You know this is wrong. My father was coerced into signing that paper. The Mortons want control of the estate.’
‘It’s all quite legal, Thamsine. Your father signed the contract before his death and Morton is entirely in the right. But I have told him you must go to the altar willingly. I am hoping that after a day or so you will see sense,’ he said, but his eyes avoided hers, giving her the answer she sought.
She took a step back. ‘What does he have over you, Roger? How can he bend you to his will?’
Ambrose smirked. ‘Your morally upright brother has been a little indiscreet, my dear. There are certain letters in existence which I am sure he would not wish the world to know about, least of all his wife.’
Ambrose cast Roger a sidelong glance that left Thamsine in no doubt as to the nature of the indiscretion.
‘I don’t believe you. Roger loves my sister – he would never…’
Ambrose cocked his head to one side. ‘How little you know of men, my dear. He proved such a comfort to poor Mistress Talbot in her widowhood.’
Thamsine cast her brother-in-law a look of disgust. Bile rose in her throat. This odious man had betrayed her sister with Lucy Talbot.
He looked away, unable to meet her angry gaze.
‘You mealy-mouthed hypocrite,’ Thamsine spat, ‘canting Bible verses while all the time you were swiving that whore!’
‘My, my,’ Ambrose remarked blandly. ‘Six months on the streets of London has taught you some colourful language, my dear Thamsine. That will have to change.’
Roger had gone chalk white, and she closed in on his weakness.
‘What is to stop me telling Jane?’ Thamsine spat.
‘You’ll not tell Jane because you love her too much. She’s not strong, she couldn’t bear it.’ Roger’s voice lacked conviction.
‘You should have thought about that before leaping into bed with Lucy Talbot.’
Roger frowned and she knew she had gone too far. Anger replaced hurt and he crossed to her, striking her across the face. She had not been expecting the blow and the force knocked her back across the bed.
Holding a hand to her face, she sat up, all the fight knocked out of her.
