Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [237]
*
She returned to find the court already packing to travel to Fontainebleau, the ancient hunting box to the south-east of Paris, which the King’s father had emerged from his Spanish prison thirty years before to recreate with all the glories of Italy.
The object of the visit was to enable the Tourelles, the Hôtel de Guise, the Louvre and the Palais de Justice to be adequately cleaned, aired and renovated before the royal wedding. The Parliament of Paris had already been requested to sit at the Augustins for that reason.
Fending off agitated jewellers, dressmakers and goldsmiths whose one mule had gone sick, Philippa rallied her flock under the confused Madame de Brêne, and prepared them as well as human agency could for their exodus.
When Danny Hislop called to see her he found her newly released from a lengthy conference between Charles de Guise, the bride, the Bishop of Paris and the King’s consort, sister and mistress. It was clear that the discussion had not been harmonious. Philippa was undeniably jaded; and the dark skin under her eyes told of sleeplessness which owed nothing to this interminable process of bringing the next King of France to the altar.
He said, ‘You look, if I may say so, just like Sardanapalus, that beastly epicure, the morning after his orgy. You know he has left Paris?’
Philippa nodded.
‘He’s taken Jerott and Archie with him,’ Danny said. ‘And they say that Strozzi has joined him. Wherever they’re going, I’m glad I’m not there: it’ll be a Franco-Italian blood-bath. And talking of Jerott …’
‘You’ve taken Lady Culter to see Marthe. What, then?’ Philippa said. And listened while, succinctly, the elements of the encounter were laid before her by Danny.
So Sybilla now knew that Leonard Bailey was in France, and that she, Philippa, had the key to the Hôtel des Sphères. And Sybilla’s first reaction, being a valiant lady, would be to trace Leonard Bailey if she could, and forestall any trouble he might be planning. And next, to call on Isabelle Roset in the rue de la Cerisaye and make sure that her secret was intact.
At least, with Danny’s willing co-operation, the inevitable meeting between Sybilla and Marthe had taken place under supervision. Philippa said, ‘The Commissioners are departing, aren’t they, for Fontainebleau also? Or Moret. At least, they will leave Paris shortly?’
‘We all are,’ Danny said. ‘They want to wipe the fingermarks off everything before the wedding. You still want Lady Culter stopped if she shows any signs of wanting to go to the Arsenal area?’
It had been the recurrent nightmare, the arrival of Sybilla alone at the Hôtel des Sphères, and of Leonard Bailey opening the door to her. ‘Yes. Has she tried?’ Philippa said.
‘No. She hasn’t had a chance, and Lord Culter is generally with her anyway. She wouldn’t send a servant?’ said Danny wistfully. No one would tell him why Lymond’s mother should not be allowed to visit the Arsenal area.
‘She wouldn’t send anyone, nor would she take anyone with her. She organizes witches’ Sabbaths every full moon,’ explained Philippa tartly.
Danny said, clearing his throat to cover an unaccustomed awkwardness, ‘Nostradamus told us you had been to see him.’ Then he blushed.
Philippa looked at him. ‘How did you know?’ And then, as she read his face. ‘Is Marthe with Nostradamus?’
‘He couldn’t get a raven,’ Danny said. He cleared his throat again. ‘I gather he was indiscreet about Mr Crawford’s … accident at Lyon. Don’t let it trouble you. While his mother and brother are here, he’s not going to do anything daft: even Archie is satisfied.’
‘He doesn’t look very satisfied,’ Philippa said. ‘And after his mother and brother go home?’
‘Well: he’ll have his divorce,’ Danny said. The pink, putty face steadied on her. ‘If he leaves for Russia, will you try to stop him?’
‘No,’ Philippa said. ‘I’ve cut the string. Didn’t you know? If anyone wants to stop Mr Crawford from doing anything, they should now apply to Catherine d’Albon.’
*
She called on Austin. His arm, strapped