Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [110]
There was a certain relief in doing business with professionals. ‘I have no objection,’ said Grey. He rose to call Myles, his secretary, and returned to his seat to await him. ‘We are unlikely to require his services again. Ah. Here we are. A letter, unsigned, but very circumstantial, as you will see, in its detail. At some time in the next weeks, the Scottish general known as the comte de Sevigny would make a personal visit to a farm near Flavy-le-Martel to settle a family dispute with an old nurse named Renée Jourda. He was likely to come alone, and in private. The writer wished no reward for the information, but would expect half the bounty if M. de Sevigny were secured.’
‘To be paid where?’ said Lymond.
‘At a certain spot in a wood near Chantilly. I have sent a man there. He has orders to stay as long as feasible, in order to see what manner of person comes for it. When he returns, you may question him. There. You may wish to see the letter. You may even perhaps know the handwriting.’
There was a brief silence. ‘Yes,’ said Lymond. ‘I know the handwriting.’
The soul of tact, William Grey, thirteenth Baron, sipped wine and waited. ‘Thank you,’ said Lymond. He laid the letter back on the desk. ‘You wanted to know about my companions. The leader was an officer from my company called Daniel Hislop, and he and the men under him had been in action for several days outside Péronne. I called on them to give me cover when I saw how busy the district was. Hence they were in military dress and I was not.’
‘You give short measure, Mr Crawford,’ said Lord Grey patiently. ‘I am prepared to believe that you made some excuse to visit the home of an old family servant. I do not believe you would have troubled had her home been, say, in Chantilly. You came to study the fortifications here at Ham. And you did not come alone. I am told there was a second man in peasant’s clothing.’
‘I believe there was,’ said Francis Crawford. ‘Let me make you another bargain. I shall tell you his name, when you bring me the address of the man who uplifts your blood-money. Cuando amigo pide, no ay mañana. Are we not going to discuss the terms on which I change sides?’
‘If you wish,’ said Lord Grey courteously. He disguised, with success, his distaste for being hurried in delicate matters. ‘You are naturally anxious about your future. His Majesty King Philip must be the final arbiter. But I know that two choices will be laid before you. One of these is to return to Spain with the King.’
He looked up at the other man sharply. No flattered blood mantled Lymond’s skin below the cuts and the darkening bruises. They said the lady Elizabeth, sister to Philip’s wife, had taken an interest in him. They did not say, but whispered, that if King Philip’s wife the Queen of England were to die, the King would seek to marry the lady Elizabeth her successor. ‘And the other?’ said Lymond.
‘Your freedom, upon an agreed ransom. To be effected on the conclusion of peace terms.’ Lord Grey smiled. ‘You are too skilful an adversary, Mr Crawford, to be permitted to take the field against us any longer.’
‘And the ransom?’ said Lymond.
Lord Grey of Wilton sipped his wine and put the cup down. He had hoped to defer this. On the other hand, one might as well get the thing over. He said, ‘One million écus of gold, Mr Crawford. To be paid in a single sum, promissory notes being in this case unacceptable.’
‘I see,’ said Lymond.
There was a little silence. It was a round sum, but not a chance one. They had spent an evening working it out, he and Laurence and Arthur. Savoy himself had weighed it up. It represented what they guessed of the total value of all Francis Crawford’s possessions: his land, his treasure, his income from his new offices. It added to that, all that was owned by his wife Philippa Somerville. And to that, the whole estate of his mother and brother in Midculter, Scotland.
All these, together with what he might borrow, might possibly raise such a ransom. It offered him freedom and ruin. It put