Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [257]
She was relieving him, courteously, of the need to prolong her visit. In the last eighteen months, he had revised his opinion of Gelis van Borselen. Adorne said, ‘I am not so tired that I cannot enjoy entertaining a handsome young woman. I have news of your husband. See: take this glass and let us drink a salute to the child. And then hear what our Milanese friend had to say.’
It was interesting enough. The man had been at court with the Duke of Milan when a young man, Andrea Fioravanti, had arrived from Russia with a gift from his father. Recounting the gossip of Moscow, the youth had mentioned the group of Italians and Germans who had escaped from the Crimea. Two of them were in Moscow: Niccolò de Fleury, and a Latin prelate called Ludovico da Bologna. Two, a merchant called Julius and his wife, had travelled north to the trading centre of Novgorod, where they were building a business. It was the man Julius who had entrusted a message to Andrea. Not simply a message, but a warning of danger.
‘I have a letter for you,’ said Anselm Adorne. ‘Julius wrote it for you, but he also gave its message to Andrea, in case the letter did not survive. He has heard about David de Salmeton’s attempt on your son in Scotland. He wants you to know that he and his wife intend to bring Nicholas back with them to protect you.’
The young woman’s eyes, of a very pale blue, were quite steady. She said, ‘But Nicholas knows he couldn’t come home. So does Julius.’
‘I imagine,’ said Adorne dryly, ‘that he would guess the embargo might be lifted, in time of exceptional need.’
She appeared to consider this. ‘You are saying that he might be allowed to return to protect us, provided that it didn’t last long, and he left when we were safe?’
He was a little disturbed, but did not show it. ‘That would seem to me fair.’
Gelis van Borselen said, ‘Thank you. I agree. But in fact, I have written telling Nicholas not to come. We can defend ourselves from de Salmeton. Nicholas would give up his livelihood and waste months of his life to no purpose.’
He studied her. ‘You have not thought of joining him, by any chance?’
‘I thought of it,’ she replied. ‘But communications being what they are, we should probably cross one another on the journey.’
There was a silence. Adorne said, ‘You were affected, as were we all, by his brutal dealings in Scotland?’
‘I am not excusing him,’ Gelis said. ‘He has tried to make recompense, to a degree. Many of us believe, now, that he is ashamed of it. I do not know, though, whether or not he would do it again.’
‘His colleagues feel as you do?’ Adorne said. He had wondered. Nicholas was a disarming young man, hard to forget. His partners had all worked closely with him. As time elapsed, a movement towards clemency might well gather.
‘I don’t know,’ Gelis said. ‘But even if they do, they would not agree, unless you did, to permit him to work again in the West. I think it is better if he does not come home meantime.’
‘I think you are right,’ Adorne said. ‘And if he comes, he should know that he cannot stay.’
He watched her leave, presently. He could not guess the pitch of anxiety to which he had brought her. Julius meant to bring Nicholas from Moscow. Whether or not he received, or agreed with her letter, now Nicholas had to decide whether to come, or to be branded a coward. And if Milan and Bruges thought that Nicholas might be coming, Scotland would know. Nicholas might be coming, and it was time — so David de Salmeton would be deciding — it was time for all the adversaries in this war to assemble in Bruges. So that, whether Nicholas did come or not, she would have to face his enemies for him, this autumn.
It was then, arriving home, that she saw that the yard, busy with porters and wagons, displayed also the small, extra activity connected with visitors. A horse she did not recognise was being led away, and