Page 59 of Exile's Return
‘And you? Is it true that you were tried and what of the stories you were hanged?’
Kit took a shuddering breath. ‘I found myself caught on my own petard, which suited the authorities. My death was staged to convince the world that I was not the turncoat. But make no mistake, they hanged me, Dan.’
‘That was the story I hear. But did they actually hang you?’
‘They were very convincing. I went to the scaffold, truly believing I was going to my death.’
He turned back to face Daniel and undid his carefully tied neckcloth to reveal a faint white mark circling his neck. Daniel stared at the scar the rope had left. When Outhwaite had tortured him there had been a time when he had prayed for death, but he could not imagine going to the gallows, feeling the rope around his neck tighten.
For a long moment, the two brothers stood staring at each other.
‘And this bought my pardon?’ Daniel said at last, hardly able to voice the words.
Kit nodded. ‘Only to be given the news that you were dead.’
Daniel looked down at the cup of wine in his hand and drained it in one swallow, setting the empty cup down on the table.
He crossed the floor to face his brother, surprised that he now looked Kit in the eye. The Kit of his memory had always been taller…and stronger. But the Kit of his memory had died on the battlefield of Worcester, just as the boy who had been Daniel had perished. Now he faced his brother as a man, an equal.
‘They know,’ Daniel said, ‘or at least they suspect that you may have been the traitor.’
‘They?’
‘The Court.’
A muscle at the corner of Kit’s lip twitched. ‘Ah. Hardly surprising. I was not the only agent among the King’s men. Some were double agents who knew I was in the pay of the Commonwealth.’
‘The King will return,’ Daniel said.
‘It seems so,’ Kit gave a careless shrug as if the return of men who knew his sordid past was of no concern to him.
‘What will you do?’
Kit heaved a sigh and looked away. ‘Kit Lovell died at the end of a hangman’s noose. To the world, I am the Comte D’Anvers, who lives a quiet domestic existence in the Hampshire countryside in a house of women.’
Daniel smiled. ‘A house of women?’
‘Thamsine…did I tell you I am married? My wife tells me that it is a kind of poetic justice. I’m not sure I quite understand what she means. But between my wife, my sister, my stepmother, Thamsine’s two nieces, and my own daughters, I am completely outnumbered and defeated.’
Daniel caught his breath. ‘Mother and Frances are with you?’
He nodded. ‘Your mother took some persuasion, but Eveleigh is completely uninhabitable.’ He paused. ‘They are both well.’
Daniel tried to order his thoughts. He put the questions about his mother and sister to one side.
‘And Grandfather?’
‘Dead these six years.’
Daniel reached for the jug of wine and poured them both another cup. ‘If the King returns will you go on being the Comte D’Anvers?’ he asked as he handed the cup to Kit.
Kit shrugged. ‘I have no choice. Kit Lovell is dead.’
‘Where does that leave me?’
‘You, brother, are the rightful heir to the title and the estates. You are now Lord Midhurst. I have a clever lawyer in London who can sort through the mess.’
Kit gestured for Daniel to sit and resumed his chair, taking a draught of the wine.
