Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [175]
‘And then it will come here, or to Soldaia? Where is it coming from?’
‘I don’t know. Neither does Ochoa. That is why he couldn’t trace it without me. I have to divine when it is coming.’
‘But why? Who has it, if not Ochoa? Is it safe?’
‘He assures me it is. The Knights were hounding him: he had to lay a false trail. But it is coming. For you and for Julius. For us all.’
‘For us all? Does Ochoa approve of your plans for it?’ Anna asked.
Nicholas refilled her cup. ‘He doesn’t know. He wants me to invest in a new expedition to Africa with himself and Paúel Benecke.’
‘But you won’t?’ Anna said. ‘Shall I tell you why I was weeping when you came in? Why especially I was weeping, after all the anxiety?’
He said, ‘I saw it was a letter from Bonne. You would have told me if it were bad news. So you are homesick, and wish to go back?’
‘Not when Julius is coming,’ she said. ‘But yes, I was homesick and yes, I miss my little daughter, as you must lie awake, missing Jodi. Do you know that Gelis went to see Bonne?’
‘Gelis?’ he said.
‘She was at Neuss, not far away. She was so kind, Bonne said. She spoke of Jodi … Nicholas, send for your wife. She needs you. You must long for her, and your son. And I know what it is like, to dress for no one, to smile for no one, never to touch, or to caress. You may pay for your pleasure, but it cannot be the same. And I do not have even that.’
‘What are you asking?’ Nicholas said.
She was weeping again. She said, ‘To let me sit like this, with my head on your shoulder.’
But it was not enough, for after a while she spoke again, her voice blurred, her hand like a stranger’s, guiding his. ‘Nicholas, help me.’
HE DID NOT see her next morning, being much occupied with the business that had accumulated in his absence, and with reacquainting himself with the city and its gossip. As soon as he returned, Anna asked him to receive her.
It was formally done, and she stood in front of him in his office as a client might have done, rather than a mistress. She was again very pale. She said, ‘I thought you might have left for another house. I am grateful that you have stayed. I wished to make you my apologies, and to tell you that I now know, if I ever doubted it, what a staunch friend Julius has. I shall be eternally ashamed that I asked, and I shall be eternally grateful that you walked out of the room.’
There was a long pause. Then Nicholas said, ‘Any other man would have remained. But I shot Julius.’
Their eyes held. Anna said, ‘Then do you still want to work for him? With me? We should keep together, for safety.’
‘Of course. It never happened. And if we are careful, all will be well. Leave it to me,’ Nicholas said.
• • •
HE THOUGHT at the time that he could control it all. He thought so up to the moment next day when he was taking stock in Sinbaldo’s fur warehouse and the Patriarch’s secretary trotted up, fell off his mule and, forgetting all prudence, cried ‘Signor Niccolò! Signor Niccolò! Come quickly!’ Then he added his news.
Ochoa had been captured.
No one had heard Brother Orazio’s words. Pulled into the warehouse, he recounted his story, shaken by whooping fur-induced coughs. Listening, surrounded by deep, lustrous pelts, Nicholas suddenly discovered a seething hatred of fur, especially sleek fur in exotic colours: smoke and silver and black, cream and tortoiseshell, orange and butter.
Ochoa had been surprised in his lodging and taken. He was in the Genoese fortress at Soldaia, accused of piracy and theft. The Patriarch was on his way there already to provide Christian solace.
Nicholas spoke to Sinbaldo. He took Orazio back to the house, merely to collect a packbag and horses, and leave a message for Anna. Anna was already there, barring his way, ordering the grooms to forbid him the stables. ‘You are not to go. They will kill you. They are suspicious already.’
Her Genoese gossips had told her. She was ashen. All she felt showed itself, in essence, as anger. It would serve no purpose to show her his own.
‘Do you think I would leave him?’ Nicholas said.