Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [182]
“I knew it,” said Lymond with equanimity. “The sliding joy, the gladness short; the feigned love, the false comfort. Unfortunately—”
“Unfortunately,” pursued Somerville, laying the pen down, “I’ve got to go and meet Lord Grey on his return at Berwick. I could guarantee you a certain degree of safety here under my presence, but without me I’m afraid you would end fairly quickly at Carlisle.”
“And so it might be quicker to take me to Carlisle in the first place.”
“What!” said Gideon dryly. “Put such a singer in the soup? No. I hope to be back before Harvey returns. Until then, I am taking you to Flaw Valleys.”
There was a pause. “To your house? I see. But will your wife, almighty Mohammet, whose laws tenderly I have to fulfil?”
Gideon rose. “You’ll find nothing particularly pleasant about your stay. You will be under lock and key, and a regime as strict as my wife cares to make it. I shall return for you when I can.”
Hand on door, Lymond had stopped, his face expressive of conflicting emotions. “I should dearly like to know why,” he said.
But that was something Gideon did not even know clearly himself.
2. Shah Mat
Sybilla heard nothing of her son’s escape from Threave until the Wednesday of that week.
Arriving at the castle in a flurry of women, armed men and boxes, she heard the story piecemeal from Will Scott, who was monosyllabic, and Agnes, who was jubilant, and drew her own conclusions.
She was not, indeed, as impressed by the feat as Agnes expected, but asked sharply, “Have you looked for him?” Scott replied repressively that his father’s men had scoured the countryside with dogs since Saturday without finding a trace. He filled an awkward pause by adding, “How is Mariotta?”
Sybilla, though dressed with her usual éclat, was less fantastic in her manner than usual, and a good deal more pointed. “Very well. Christian told us of Francis’s capture, but she didn’t know, naturally, of his escape. Did you hear,” added the Dowager abruptly, “about the raid on Dalkeith?”
Will Scott, not at all sure what the Dowager thought of all this, followed her with some bewilderment. “Dalkeith? No!”
“It only happened on Sunday night,” said Sybilla, seating herself. “Lord Grey sent out troops from Haddington. Some of them burned up the country all round Edinburgh, and the rest attacked Dalkeith. George Douglas escaped, I hear, but his wife and all the rest of the household had to give themselves up.”
“I thought Sir George and Grey were on good terms,” said Scott.
“Did you? Agnes, my dear,” said the Dowager. “Bonnie has some new satin for you, if you can find the right box. Just the shade for your turquoises. Will and I shall be quite all right here.”
Scott watched the girl go with a sinking feeling. He said, “I suppose you know my father isn’t altogether pleased with me. I don’t know what he expected. After what happened to Mariotta, no man could stand by and—”
“Rubbish,” said Sybilla. “Mariotta is a silly child, who deserved a lesson, though not quite the one she got. At least you haven’t told your father about Wark.”
Scott flushed. “I don’t believe Lymond went there. He was too late.”
Sybilla smoothed her dress. “Did you know why he had to get there?”
“No.” Scott hesitated under the blue gaze. “Not really.”
“He didn’t tell you—even when you were locked in together afterward?”
“It was some information he wanted,” said Scott sulkily. “Something he expected to put him in a good light with the authorities. I didn’t know. But I don’t see that it could have done him any good now. Not after all he’s done.”
The Dowager made no reply, and the boy found himself overcome with exasperation. “Are you sorry I captured him? I can tell you his brother won’t be.”
“Sorry? Yes. Aren’t you?” said the Dowager mildly.
Scott met her eyes squarely. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe. In any case, what could I do about it?”
“You could try and find him,” said