Page 25 of The King’s Man (Guardians of the Crown #2)

Kit’s friend? Her jaw tightened. Kit did not have friends. Did Fitzjames know his friend was a turncoat, hanging on his every word, ready to betray him when the time was right?

The men spoke in low voices that made it hard to understand what was being said. De Baas glanced at the door and suggested they speak in French. Secure in the mistaken belief that they were not being overheard, their voices raised to a level that Thamsine could understand.

Fitzjames gestured at the table. ‘We have interrupted you, Baron.’

De Baas waved a hand. ‘I just request that you are brief.’

‘It is on the matter of the Lord Protector … ’

‘Your Lord Protector … ’ De Baas wrinkled his nose as if he had detected a bad smell. ‘ … is an incompetent nobody. A farmer, playing at being a statesman. He knows nothing of international diplomacy.’

‘What about Bordeaux?’ Gerard asked.

De Baas dismissed the French Ambassador with a wave of his hand. ‘Bordeaux is also incompetent. My God, he has even taken an Englishwoman as a mistress.’ De Baas leaned closer to Fitzjames. ‘Your Cromwell is playing a dangerous game. He can lie down with the bear or the wolf, but not with both.’

‘What do you mean?’ Gerard asked.

‘Spain or France, the choice is simple.’ De Baas illustrated his point by turning first his left hand palm-up and then the right. ‘This regime of Cromwell’s is ready to be overthrown. I have seen the soldiers. They are feeble and dissipated.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Fitz asked.

De Baas sat bolt upright and threw his hands in the air. ‘ Mon Dieu , they wear nightcaps under their hats!’

‘Pardon?’ Gerard asked.

‘I have seen them in Whitehall standing sentinel with these absurd nightcaps under their hats. No real soldier would condescend to wear such foolish clothing.’

The two Englishmen stared at him. ‘It probably keeps their heads warm,’ Fitz commented, his brow creased in perplexity.

‘So what do you propose you can do for us, De Baas?’ Gerard changed the subject.

‘I can assist with the overthrow of this Lord Protector.’

‘How?’

‘You need a skilled assassin to kill Cromwell. I know of just such a man.’

A thrill of excitement ran down Thamsine’s spine. This was what Thurloe wanted to hear.

‘What makes you think we are not capable of doing the job?’ Fitzjames asked, his tone defensive.

De Baas scoffed, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his kerchief. ‘Cromwell is guarded well. He knows he is not immortal. You may have been fine soldiers, my friends, but this is a task for a specialist.’

‘And what is the price of this specialist service?’ Fitzjames asked.

De Baas shrugged. ‘Call it mutual benefit. You will get your King back and France will be free of interference from England. That is the offer, my friends.’

‘And Cardinal Mazarin, does he know of this proposal?’

De Baas sniffed, holding the lace-edged kerchief to his nose. ‘He may or then again, he may not.’

‘Baron de Baas. You must understand that this is not a matter we can decide on now. It has to be discussed with and approved by the King before we can act,’ Fitzjames said.

De Baas spread his hands. ‘Of course, I understand. There is no hurry. I suggest you speak with your superiors in Paris, convince your King of this matter, and we can talk again in a few weeks. Now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me … ’ he looked towards the bedroom door but by the time he reached it, Thamsine had gone, slipping through the servant’s door and down the back stairs into the cold night air.

***

‘Well?’

Thamsine flushed at Kit’s peremptory greeting. She set her hat and cloak down on an empty stool and sat down at the table. She looked around but the taproom of the Ship was quiet.

‘The man is insufferable,’ she said in a low voice. ‘His bedchamber resembled a brothel.’

‘And how would you know what a brothel looks like?’ Kit raised an eyebrow. ‘Did he … ’

‘No,’ Thamsine snapped. ‘It was fortunate for me that our little tryst was interrupted by two of your friends.’

‘My friends?’

Thamsine nodded. ‘I’ve seen them here. The tall, fair-haired man and the young man. Fitzjames and Gerard, I think he called them.’

‘Hmm,’ Kit said, more to himself than to her. ‘Could you hear what was said?’

Thamsine related the gist of the conversation and Kit’s eyes gleamed in the gloom.

He tapped his fingers on the side of his mug. ‘So they are set on this course. Fools! If they think the King will ever agree to assassination … ’

Thamsine rose to her feet. ‘If that is all, Captain Lovell. It has been a long day and I have an appointment with your lovely mistress tomorrow.’

A muscle twitched in Kit’s cheek. ‘Sit down!’

She lowered herself back onto the seat.

He closed his eyes. ‘Sorry, Thamsine. I didn’t mean that to sound like an order. I meant only to thank you for your work tonight.’

‘I do what I’m required to do.’

‘No, tonight you were prepared to go a little further and for that I thank you.’ He ran a hand across his eyes. ‘I am tired and short of temper. I didn’t mean to snap at you.’

She shrugged. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Captain Lovell. I hope the stakes are worth it.’

‘I play for a life, Thamsine. The stakes cannot be raised any higher.’

‘Whose life? Yours?’

He shook his head. ‘Not me. My life doesn’t matter.’

She watched him in silence. He looked tired. The shadows around his eyes seemed to have sunk deeper and the lilt of laughter had gone from his mouth.

‘Lucy will be waiting for you,’ she said, her tone softening.

‘Lucy can wait. I am not her lapdog, to come and go at her bidding. The reason I lodge with her is one of convenience,’ he snapped.

Thamsine shrugged. ‘You could find lodging elsewhere.’

‘You’re right, I could, but Lucy is an escape from this mess … ’ He ran his hand through his hair, a gesture she’d noticed before when he felt under any pressure. ‘Do you hate me, Thamsine?’

She shook her head. ‘No, but I won’t forget what you did to me.’

‘If I had let you be caught on the day you tried to kill our beloved Lord Protector, what do you think would have happened to you? Newgate or the Fleet, the gallows even. You wouldn’t have stood a chance.’

‘You didn’t have to turn me in.’

‘And if I hadn’t, would you be sitting there in a new gown, considering retiring to a comfortable bed upstairs? We’re all governed by fate, Thamsine.’

‘Do you believe we have no say in how our lives go, Lovell? Is life pre-ordained by God?’

‘God and I have not been on speaking terms for some years now, Thamsine, so don’t talk to me of God.’

‘What did God do to you?’

‘Wasn’t there when I needed him … ’ He looked up at her and smiled. ‘Go to your bed, Thamsine. You look tired.’

She rose to her feet. ‘Good night, Kit.’

It was the first time she had called him by his first name in a long time. He looked up at her and smiled. ‘Good night, Thamsine.’

As he turned to go, he said, ‘Thamsine?’

She turned back towards him. He frowned, and his lips parted as if he intended to ask her a difficult question. Then he shook his head. ‘Nothing.’