Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [179]
From his great height Lord James, who had not yet sat down, looked at the cloudless, delectable face with its intolerable vivacity. ‘If you do,’ he said, ‘you will have to fight Richard, your brother. He has joined the Calvinist party.’
The ravishing smile remained, although the answer delayed by a second. ‘Has he?’ said Francis Crawford. ‘Was that wise of him?’
John Erskine said, quickly, ‘I shall save Lord James the trouble of pointing out that it depends whether you are considering his spiritual or material welfare. With Lord James and the Earl of Rothes and myself, your brother signed the Covenant in December by which all friends of the new religion have undertaken to maintain and establish the Word of God and His congregation. He has been our wise friend in all we have done since, aiding us so that preaching and interpretation of the Scriptures may proceed privately in quiet houses, until God may move the Dowager to grant public preaching by faithful and true ministers.’
‘I am sure there is a purpose in all this,’ Crawford said. With airy impudence he had slung round him a length of chamlet, sober side outwards, and cowled and robed in it was reclining, tented hands pointed upwards. He added, staring at them, ‘I shan’t induce him to re-enter the puddle of Papistry, if that’s what you’re afraid of. He hates my guts. In between arranging that the preaching and interpretation of the Scriptures may proceed privately in quiet houses.’
Lord James said, ‘We have no doubts of Lord Culter’s constancy. We wish to know where your faith stands.’
‘Why?’ said Crawford with distinct querulousness. He added, ‘I thought we were discussing pourpoints.’
Lord James Stewart took a turn to the window and back. He said, ‘If you take a ball through your breastplate tomorrow, a pourpoint will not preserve you from hell.’
‘No, but my breastplate would,’ said Crawford irritably. ‘It’s a new kind I had made in Russia. Anyway, who isn’t going to hell?’
‘Richard your brother,’ said Lord James ill-advisedly.
‘Then that settles it,’ said Lymond, satisfied, and began folding his draperies. ‘Do you fancy I might persuade a doublet-maker to cut one of these by tomorrow? There must be five Scottish Commissioners still corrupt enough to admire it.’
A rawboned hand, closing fast on his arm, caused the cloth to fall and the young man to look up, astonished. ‘You offend me,’ said the Queen’s half-brother. ‘And your memory for favours received seems a short one.’
‘There is no argument about the favours received,’ Crawford said. He made a single, smooth movement and his arm, without apparent effort, freed itself. ‘Good God, here am I with stockings in either hand, panting towards restitution. I merely require you to keep my soul out of the general conversation.’
‘And your brother’s soul?’ said James Stewart. He was drawling again.
‘I understood,’ said Lymond, ‘that you had that in hand.’ He rose, collected his draperies, and moved rustling to deposit them on the window seat. ‘And, of course, he will fulfil all your expectations. Richard is your man for high moral tone and sound values:
‘Adieu la Court, adieu les Dames
Adieu les filles et les femmes
Adieu le bal, adieu le dance
Adieu mésure, adieu cadense
Tabourins, hautboys, violons,
Puisqu’ a l’église nous allons’
His smile, full of effervescent charm, was turned on them both. ‘Forgive me, gentlemen. My lapse has made me behindhand already. If you mean to stay longer, I shall leave you and find Madame Bouchard.’
John Erskine stood up. ‘Madame Bouchard is not in the house, M. de Sevigny,’ he said. ‘And the door is locked. I told you I remembered you as a boy. I remember also the face of the Bishop of Orkney when he emerged from a Scottish courtroom ten years ago, and told me of the impassioned plea for nationhood he had heard from a man then judged guilty of treason. I have watched the same man today degrading