Checkmate - Dorothy Dunnett [349]
‘Güzel?’ said Philippa. After a moment she said, ‘Does he know?’
‘My God, he knows,’ said Jerott Blyth. ‘It drove him to …’
‘… I don’t think,’ said the soft voice of Archie, cutting across, ‘that yon incident has any bearing. Mr Blacklock won’t have heard about the Commissioners.’
‘They’re landing in Montrose,’ said Adam. ‘Aren’t they?’
‘Some of them,’ Jerott said. ‘Four of them won’t land anywhere any more. Someone, somewhere must have got to know that Queen Mary’s secret bond had become known to us. They tried to poison all the Commissioners at Dieppe, as they were sailing.’
‘Who? Not Richard?’ said Kate.
‘No. Francis is keeping Richard with him, for safety. Orkney and Cassillis are dead; Rothes and Fleming probably dying. And most of their servants. Nothing can be proved and no one accused, but four men have gone who won’t trouble France any longer.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Kate said. ‘Were they so dangerous that France had to poison them?’
Adam said, ‘The fewer leaders we have, the better France will be suited. But there is a second reason. Will you add yet another state secret to all those with which Francis must have entrusted you? The Queen of Scotland has signed three bonds, arranged with her uncles of Guise, by which Scotland is to belong to France if she dies childless. The Commissioners were told of it by Francis. To make it public would have meant civil war, or an annihilating struggle with France. So they took Lymond’s advice, which was to do nothing meantime. He also warned them to hold their tongues, for their lives.’
‘I had a warning through Willie Grey,’ Philippa said. ‘I passed it to Francis, but I didn’t know what it was. I think Lord Seton perhaps was indiscreet.’
‘I see,’ said Sybilla. ‘A friend of England, and a friend of the Lennoxes. It isn’t unlikely. Do you agree, Philippa, that the world has need of her men of judgement? We cannot belong to ourselves, or to one person only.’
Adam said, ‘When is Francis coming?’
‘He and Richard should sail in a few days.’
‘And ride to Midculter?’ said Philippa.
‘To his own house of St Mary’s,’ Sybilla said. ‘I need not tell you. Unless matters change, you should not meet.’
She left with Jerott next day, leaving Archie, as so often before, at Flaw Valleys, and carrying with her Kuzúm, her cherished grandson. To Philippa, and to Kate, it was as if the windows had darkened.
Before they left, Philippa found Jerott alone and asked him for news of his wife.
‘I thought you knew,’ Jerott said. ‘She’s gone to her house in Blois. We are tied, I suppose, but the marriage is over. It should never have happened. She drove you out of Sevigny. But for that …’
‘What would it have changed?’ Philippa said. ‘And she didn’t drive me, Jerott. I left to save Francis from trying to join me. She came to Sevigny to persuade me to take him back.’
Jerott said, ‘He chose you, and it seems you are not made as other women. He was true to you—do you know that? Everything he did, good or bad, was for your sake only.’
‘I know,’ said Philippa. ‘I know. I gave him his release and his mother has snapped shut the fetters again. What am I to do? I cannot even go myself without leaving him to bear the burden of it.’
There were no tears in her empty face. All the rage in Jerott died, and the contempt, and the bitter anxiety.
You don’t know what love is, either of you. And God help us and you, if you ever find out.
He said, ‘I believe it is out of our hands, and his as well. I think we must wait till he comes. Then perhaps we shall be shown what to do.’
*
On the fourth of October Francis Crawford of Lymond, comte de Sevigny, Chevalier of the Order, left France to return as he had promised to his own country.
Before he sailed he was received by his young Queen in Paris, and laid before her the guerdon she had given him long ago, when he saved her from death. He said, ‘I have to leave, your grace, to look