Page 97 of The King's Man
She mistook his silence. Her voice faltered as she said, ‘I suppose love doesn’t matter. If you care for her at all, even if it is just as a friend, marry her.’
Kit spread his hands. ‘Mistress Knott, I can’t marry her! My life is … complicated.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Do you have a wife, Captain Lovell?’
He shook his head. ‘No … ’
Tears shone in Jane Knott’s eyes and her voice shook as she said, ‘I am certain she loves you, Captain Lovell, and it would be the one sure way to free her from Ambrose Morton.’ She smiled. ‘Surely you must see that it would not be to your disadvantage either.’
Kit straightened his shoulders. ‘I am not so far lost that I would marry her for her fortune, Mistress Knott. That would make me no better than Morton.’
‘But you don’t deny it would be helpful?’
‘Of course it would be. An heiress for a wife would be the answer to my prayers.’
‘Then marry her and be done with it, Captain Lovell,’ Jane said. ‘If you don’t, and something happens to her, you will regret it for the rest of your days.’
He nodded. ‘That is a hard choice you give me, Mistress Knott. My life … ’
She dropped her eyes. ‘Is complicated. I’m sorry if I misunderstood the nature of your friendship with Thamsine.’
He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. ‘I … I want you to know that I do love Thamsine, but there are other forces at work here that are beyond my control. Rest easy, I will think on it. In the meantime, I will wish you a good day, Mistress Knott.’
He took his leave of her and rode slowly back to London. At every step, a single thought jolted through his mind.
Marry Thamsine.
Chapter 29
The lights of The Ship Inn pierced the gloom of the evening, and already the sound of raucous laughter spilled into the street. Kit stopped for a moment in the street outside and looked up at the flapping sign with its crudely painted image of a ship in full sail. It seemed a strange place to call home, but it was the closest place he had to a home on this earth and he was glad to be back.
Jem looked up as he entered and jerked his head in the direction of Kit’s travelling chest that Jem had retrieved that morning.
‘What news from Holborn?’ Kit asked
‘Place is in an uproar. The girl had your chest at the kitchen door. I could hear her mistress howling from the street,’ Jem shuddered. ‘My betting is he took none too kindly to finding his bird had flown.’
Kit tried to summon some sympathy for Lucy and failed. She and Morton deserved each other.
‘And Thamsine?’
Jem nodded. ‘She’s right enough. You’ll find her upstairs.’
Thamsine sat in a chair beside the small grate, her feet drawn up beneath her, squinting at a broadsheet. She looked up as he entered, pulling a badly made shawl closer around her shoulders. Her shortened hair fluffed around her head like a curling halo framing her pale face. A broken pot with some tatty flowers in it had been placed on a table next to her.
Her eyes followed his and she smiled. ‘Jem brought me the flowers.’
Kit raised an eyebrow. His sergeant had never been one to reveal a sentimental side before. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
‘More like myself,’ she said. Her hand went to the curls that framed her face, making her look years younger … or more her own age. ‘What happened to my hair?’
Kit looked at her. ‘It was filthy and matted and the girls thought it easier to cut it.’
‘I suppose it will grow back. The price of my freedom,’ she said ruefully.
Kit resisted the urge to run his fingers through the riotous curls. ‘I rather like it short,’ he said.
Thamsine shuddered and drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and leaning her face on her knees. She closed her eyes and tears spilled from beneath her lashes, tracing a track down her cheek. Kit resisted an urge to wipe the tears from her face.
