Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [129]
Richard smiled faintly. “Not really. But I’ll take it if it’ll please her.”
“Oh, my dear, Catherine has made enough martyrs without adding more. I shall tell Dandy you drained every drop and left in a condition of enteric rapture: only remember to fib when you see him.” And she smiled and nodded, and disappeared again.
He had now only to take leave of Mariotta. He went to her room quickly, kissed her, and gave her a brief recital of his plans. Sitting before her mirror, she listened with perfect composure, arranging a lace scarf carefully about her shoulders. Still listening, she picked up and clasped the scarf with a magnificent brooch: a diamond-set heart surrounded by angels’ heads.
Recently Mariotta had been very quiet. Richard had said nothing to her of his encounter with Buccleuch at Crumhaugh, and was not to know that she had heard it in detail from Sir Wat and Sybilla. Now she waited until he had finished, and then said soberly, “Richard … The country districts are in a fairly bad way. How many of these raids can they stand? Assuming you repel this one, that is?”
There was a little pause: he was evidently surprised and rather relieved. He said, readily enough, “It’s all a matter of who tires first. We may damage the English so much this time they can’t afford to try again.”
“With all their resources? With all their mercenaries from Spain and Germany?”
“They cost money, you know.” He smoothed a corner of crumpled lace on her shoulder, the fine threads catching on the roughness of his fingers. “And meantime we shall be getting troops of our own from France.”
“For nothing?” said Mariotta. She was watching him in the mirror. “But isn’t it sometimes more expensive to accept favours than it is to buy them?”
He smiled. “You’re in a very inquiring frame of mind today, surely?”
“Yes, I am,” said Mariotta briefly. “Don’t people who dispense favours quite often expect a return for their trouble? Such as an alliance, or a marriage? Or special favours in trading? And if so, might there not be very little difference between an alliance with England and an alliance with France? And wouldn’t a truce with England now have the advantage of saving thousands of lives before spring?”
She was ready for the first sign of ridicule: all the more ready because the ideas were less her own than the Dowager’s.
But he was still patient. “France, of course, is the ancient ally, tied to us by history and temperament and blood and religion. But there’s sense as well as sentiment in it. By supporting us with troops, France forces England to divert men and money from Europe. Besides, France has never tried to conquer us by force as England has. Three English kings have claimed to own Scotland, and have done their best to hack their names on the door.… What sort of a people would we be if we tolerated that?”
“You would rather have France as your master?”
“There is no question of either,” said Richard quietly. “Whatever price we have to pay to France, you may be sure we shall keep our sovereignty.”
“Which is more,” said Mariotta, “than one can count on at home.” And her eyes met his in the mirror.
She might have meant anything; but his face emptied of expression. After a moment, she went on.
“You talked of disliking overlordship, and I suppose all it implies—an indifferent superior, a denial of free choice and policy and the rest.” She had rested her elbows on the table, covering her face with her fingers so that nothing but her tired voice could betray her. “I hate it, too. I don’t know if I can go on with it, Richard.”
So there it was. He found a chair and sat heavily. “Mariotta … I’m no good at this sort of thing. You know you can spend