Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [293]
‘With time,’ Lymond said. ‘And teaching. And fear of ridicule, if need be. What I cannot control is the stupid man, launched upon a war which is against his material interests. And there is no scavenger of the air, or beast of the earth, or ooze of the sea which will offend nature like two such, opposed to one another.’
No one spoke, while the eyes of the two men held one another. Then Lord Grey said, ‘I believe you. And it faces us. But what have you done, except run with the mastiffs? You chose to go to Russia, keeping your counsel and pursuing your own objective. In Scotland, of course, to keep counsel is rather more difficult.’
‘No more than in England,’ said Lymond. And after a moment he added. ‘I saw a chance to mould a nation.’
‘Your task in your own country, I grant you, would be harder,’ said Grey. Then walking to the window he turned and said, ‘No. I am unfair. You have had reasons, no doubt, for leaving Scotland, but there is one which any man can distinguish. Amid the teeming millions of Russia, among the hosts of those vying for power in France you have made your mark promptly. I commend you for it. But in Scotland you would have no face that was not a public one. You would be a cock pheasant trapped in a hen coop. They could not afford to leave you alone until they had conned every quill in your belly. A man should be very sure of himself,’ said Lord Grey, ‘before he set out to face that inquisition. And, as well, you have England to reckon with.’
‘Then what should I do?’ Lymond said.
Lord Grey looked at him, and then at Philippa silent in her corner. ‘I see,’ he said. ‘I have been brought in to arbitrate. I am to tell your charming wife that you are right. That no man of honour could take high office in a land whose interests may compete with those of the land of his peoples. That since Scotland would give you an ambivalent welcome and Russia is far off and its welcome also in doubt, you would be best to remain as you are, a landed gentleman of title and wealth, employing the passing days hunting with mastiffs.…
‘Madam. I know your mother. I fought many campaigns with your father and looked upon him as a friend. I tell you that whatever infatuation you have fallen into, you cannot keep that man at your side. He belongs where he belongs and he will arrive there, no matter how deep you bury him. Best free him at once and save the heart ache.’
Francis was smiling. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘That was what she was hoping you would say.’
Lord Grey of Wilton looked from one to the other. ‘I am a fool? You want to separate?’
‘No,’ Lymond said. ‘We are staying together. But I am none the less grateful for your tribute. Some time, I should like my brother to talk to you about Scotland.’
Lord Grey sat down. ‘I should be willing. I make no doubt he is honest. And committed.’ He cleared his throat. ‘You know perhaps that Austin still stays with your mother?’
Lymond said, ‘I did him an injury which no man would readily forgive. But nothing can mend it. He would be better at home.’
‘I told him,’ Lord Grey said, exasperated. ‘I said, you’ve been made a fool of; they’re happy; get off home and marry a good wench from Newcastle.’
‘And he didn’t?’ said Philippa shakily.
‘That boy,’ said Lord Grey, ‘is a bundle of nerves like a kitten. Couldn’t stand the sound of cloth tearing. Stuffs himself full of volumes of chivalry, and then comes home heart-broken because some village lout hasn’t read them.’
‘He believed the harangues,’ Lymond said gently. Tor him, the army is an unhappy choice, and so is Allendale while his mother lives. He needs a post like Nick Applegarth’s at Sevigny, with an estate and some people to practise on. He isn’t lacking in fibre. I would have wished it to have turned out differently. ‘In fact,’ Lymond said, ‘I tried rather hard.’
‘I won’t ask you to read his letter then,’ said Lord Grey. ‘I’m afraid it would put you out. He tells me, though, that your men are home