Page 86 of The King's Man
She flinched, her eyes darting to the door. ‘It’s not my place,’ she began. ‘But I didn’t think it were right.’
Kit looked at her in irritation. He didn’t need some petty domestic matter to solve. ‘What’s not right … um … Mary?’
‘Bess, sir.’
‘Bess. What’s not right?’
‘I’m a good girl, sir. Bought up a proper God-fearing Christian, I am,’ the girl gabbled.
‘Bess … ’ Kit fought his impatience. If the girl was going to tell him something, he didn’t want to scare her.
‘There are things that happen in this house, sir. Men who come to call. When you’re not here, of course,’ she added.
‘Bess, that is none of your concern,’ he said sternly. He didn’t need to be reminded by a kitchen scullion that his mistress was free with her favours.
‘I don’t mean you, sir. You’re different. You’re a gentleman. Always nice to me. But there are some … ’ She tailed off. ‘That’s why I thought you should know, seeing as how she’s a friend of yours.’
‘Who?’
‘The music teacher.’
Kit’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Go on, Bess.’
‘Well, there’s been this man what’s been calling while you’ve been away.’
That hardly surprised Kit. Lucy had the morals of an alley cat.
‘Do you know his name?’
Bess shook her head. ‘Really handsome. Taller than you, darker too. Wears his hair longer.’
Ambrose Morton? Kit felt a surge of annoyance with Lucy. While he accepted the fact that other men kept her bed warm in his absence, it irked him that she had chosen Ambrose Morton.
‘I don’t like him,’ Bess continued. ‘There’s a way he looks at a person. Gives me the shivers.’
Kit wasn’t a woman but he had to agree. There was something in those cold, grey eyes that made his flesh crawl, too.
‘While you was away, the music teacher came to give Mistress Talbot her lesson. Halfway through the lesson he turns up. I were in the kitchen but I could hear them from down there. Terrible fight there was, furniture banging, and I heard her scream.’
‘Mistress Talbot?’
‘No, not her, the music teacher! I sneaked out of the kitchen and I saw him carrying her down the stairs. She’s kicking and scratching but he’s got his hand over her mouth.’
‘What happened to her, Bess?’ Kit felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
‘He shoves her into a carriage and they takes off. I had to get back to the kitchen afore Mistress Mag saw I was gone.’
‘Can you tell me anything about the carriage? Did you see a coat of arms, anything to distinguish it?’
Bess shook her head. ‘It were just a plain carriage. Nothing special. There was another man following behind, but I didn’t see who it was.’ The girl looked at him anxiously. ‘Did I do right to tell you, sir?’
He forced a smile. ‘You did quite right, Bess. Here … ’ He tossed her a coin that she caught before smiling, curtseying, and turning back for the kitchen.
Kit stood and crossed to the window, looking out at the bleak, cold evening. What was Lucy’s involvement? And what in God’s name was Thamsine’s relationship with Ambrose Morton?
Then it all fell into place. Morton himself had as good as told him. He had the stories from both sides, but he had never thought to connect them. Thamsine was Morton’s runaway bride, the girl who had fled to London, supposedly with another man. Morton was the mean and vicious man who had wanted to marry Thamsine for her money.
Now he had found her and the consequences for Thamsine could only be dire. He slammed his fist on the windowsill in frustration. He didn’t even know where to find Ambrose Morton, let alone Thamsine.
