Page 95 of The King's Man
‘She could do with a bit of warming up!’ Nan gave him a wink.
Kit sat down beside the bed and picked up Thamsine’s hand, noting for the first time the slender musician’s fingers and the fine bones. Her eyes fluttered open and her fingers tightened on his. She had begun to shiver uncontrollably, her teeth chattering.
Kit pulled the blankets higher, but to no effect. It seemed he had little choice but to follow the twins’ advice. He stripped down to his breeches and shirt and climbed into the bed beside her, folding her in his arms.
As the heat from his body began to permeate hers, the shivering lessened and she slept, curled within the circle of his arms as if she had always belonged there.
He’d never known this thing called “love” could be so painful. His heart ached for her but strangely, despite her proximity, he felt no carnal desire, just the pleasure of holding her, being near her, keeping her safe.
He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head, closed his own eyes, and let sleep wash over him.
Chapter 28
Abitter early morning wind blew up the river, bringing the small boat with the red sail in to dock at St. Katherine’s. Kit hunched his shoulders into his cloak, stamped his feet and blew on his hands. They had been waiting hours and he was frozen to the bone.
A sailor flung a plank across the gap between the boat and the dock and De Baas, immediately recognisable from his hawk-like visage, pranced across it.
‘Mes cheres,’ he exclaimed, clasping Henshaw and Kit to his perfumed person. ‘I ‘ave brought him.’
A second man crossed the plank and stood beside De Baas – a slight figure, his face shadowed by the wide-brimmed hat. Despite himself, Kit shivered, feeling a dark malevolence in the very stillness of the man.
De Baas gestured at his companion. ‘Monsieur Debigné, my English friends Henshaw and Lovell.’
The Frenchman bowed but did not speak.
The unseen eyes of the hired assassin seemed to bore into Kit’s soul and his flesh crawled. He had killed men but it had always been in the heat of battle or self-defence, never in cold blood. He wondered what sort of person would undertake such a calling.
Henshaw cleared his throat. ‘There is an inn nearby where our friends wait. I suggest we adjourn there and we can advise you of the plan.’
Gerard and the recruit, Vowells, had taken the private parlour. A luncheon of cold meat and cheese encircled a map.
‘Cromwell is accustomed to visiting Hampton Court Palace every Saturday,’ Henshaw said. ‘We’ve been watching him. He takes the same route every time.’ His finger traced the road from London to Hampton on the map. ‘He travels by coach with a guard of twenty men. Wiseman and I have reconnoitred the route and we believe an ambush can be laid here.’ His finger jabbed. ‘It’s heavily wooded and there is a bend in the road which will force the coach to slow.’
Kit translated for Debigné, then asked, ‘How many men? To my mind, we will need at least forty. ‘
‘We have three times that number,’ Henshaw replied, speaking in French.
‘Experienced?’ Debigné spoke for the first time, in time, glancing at Kit to provide the translation.
Vowells shrugged. ‘Some.’
‘Forty men is a large number to secrete,’ Debigné commented.
‘It can be done,’ Henshaw said. ‘Our target is Cromwell. A select few will go in with the sole purpose of dragging Cromwell from the coach and Ireton if he is with him. Monsieur, you know your job. I do not need to tell you what must be done.’
Debigné nodded. ‘It will have to be fast.’
‘Once it is accomplished, we make haste for London. Vowells – you and Fox will have the ’prentices here and here,’ Gerard pointed to places on the map within striking distance ofWhitehall. ‘There will be chaos when news of the Protector’s death hits the streets. We must act fast. Ireton, Thurloe and the others – you have the names – must all be secured.’
‘And what is your alternative plan?’ Debigné asked mildly.
‘Alternative?’ Lord Gerard glanced at the Frenchman, then at Kit, to check that he had heard the word correctly.
‘What if Cromwell does not choose to visit Hampton Court on this particular day?’ Debigné asked.
‘Why would he? He always does it.’
Debigné shrugged. ‘Something may detain him.’ He looked around the circle of faces. ‘He may get wind of the plan.’
