Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [56]
Julius had been sympathetic. ‘Nicholas was humouring you. I suspected as much. Look, don’t worry. If he hates his family, that’s up to him.’ Julius was not entirely sorry, himself. He was not attracted to Gelis.
Now, however, several extremely vinous days later, he agreed with Anna that something more ought to be attempted. Since Nicholas was seldom in his chamber, they chose to tackle him during a hawking expedition, conducted over the extremely lush land of a party so rich and so noble that all conversation was conducted in the third person. The birds were superb, and the hounds tender-nosed and well taught. The silver bells shook, and the light silks and cuffed gloves and great jewels shimmered and glowed and gleamed in the sun. At midday, carpets were spread under trees for refreshments. Nicholas arrived and, sliding down beside Julius, provided the opening himself. ‘You’d better know: I’ve just mentioned to Anna that my marriage is being annulled. One should not live in the same basket as a snake. It will take some little time, but for all practical purposes, I am a free man. You wouldn’t like to let me have Anna, siren of sirens?’
‘No,’ said Julius happily. ‘Also, you’ve to stop swilling wine. I hope she told you.’
‘She did, but I’m not married to her,’ Nicholas said. ‘And not even allowed to receive favours. Therefore I shall succumb to diabetica passione all by myself, and you will drink water. Tell me about Bonne.’
Julius was first startled, then peeved. ‘You know about Bonne. Anna’s daughter.’
‘I know she has a daughter, natural, adopted or prematurely installed by some well-plotted design of the Graf’s. I need to know more, if Jodi’s to marry her.’
Julius sat up. ‘What?’
‘Your wine has spilled. Anna doesn’t seem to object. But it’s a long way ahead: he’s still young. Who is Bonne’s father?’
Julius gazed at him. ‘I thought you knew. You just said. The Graf Wenzel, Anna’s late husband. Anna’s mother told me herself. Bonne was born to Anna in Augsburg while Wenzel’s first wife was still alive, and Anna’s parents looked after the baby. Then, when Wenzel married Anna, he adopted their love-child.’ He paused, and said, ‘She is illegitimate, but you couldn’t fault her bloodline. But, Nicholas? She is eleven, and Jodi is five?’
‘I’m not suggesting that we draw up contracts yet,’ Nicholas said. ‘You and Anna might have a daughter yourselves. Come to think of it, what’s the delay?’
Julius supplied an acid answer; Nicholas laughed and rose, saying something, and that, Jesus be praised, was the end of it. Julius had no desire to dwell upon the delay. Anna’s failure to conceive continued to be a surprise and a disappointment to her husband. Naturally, he hoped for an heir, but that was not quite all. In the various theatres that made up his life, Julius preferred the occasional exquisite performance to the predictable and diligent routine. When Anna bent over and touched him, smiling, at bedtime, he responded, of course, but not at once. Yet he had no real complaint, my God no. He was the envy of every man he met. And while they awaited their child, she was his.
Before the repast was over, Julius did however find her and draw her aside. ‘Nicholas spoke to you about Jodi and Bonne?’
Her lips parted. ‘I thought he was teasing. Does he mean it?’ In the open air, she had never looked lovelier, with the colour roused in her skin and her eyes glowing and brilliant as lapis. Serious conversation suddenly appeared idiotic. Nevertheless, he persevered.
‘Unless we have a daughter,’ Julius said. ‘And, of course, Gelis might not agree.’
‘To a van Borselen-von Hanseyck betrothal? I think she might,’ Anna said gravely. ‘And I suppose Nicholas might really be serious. He is leading a dangerous life, and you have been his mentor for a long time,