Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [185]
He bent down heavily for his shoes. “I could do with six months out to grass. I’ve got all this damned coming and going to Haddington—convoys three times weekly; serpentine pouches, hackbuts, iron, matches, sickles, scythes, pickaxes, what have you. And the horses are being used too much. And the French fleet is here.”
Gideon, whose attention had slackened, sat up sharply. “Are you sure?”
“Saw them myself,” said his commander gloomily. “They’re lying off Dunbar. A hundred and twenty sail, I should judge. A damned great navy.”
Gideon said, “What about our fleet?” and saw Grey’s lip curl. “What about it? Fitting out in the south. It’s been fitting out since it was launched, and it’ll be fitting out at Christmas, I shouldn’t wonder.…”
He was still talking when Christian Stewart was ushered in. After her came Grey’s secretary Myles.
During the introductions, Gideon observed the blind girl curiously. She was sturdily built, by his standards, with good features and shining, dark red hair framing a surprisingly calm face. While Myles kept Grey’s attention, Gideon spoke.
“Have we met before, I wonder? You seemed to recognize my name.”
She had a splendid smile. “I’ve heard of you. Through a friend.”
Gideon made the commonplace answer. “Nothing too bad, I hope;” and the girl smiled again.
“Quite the reverse. He—we thought at one time you had had an injudicious past, but now we know better.”
“Good,” said Gideon, but the reply was mechanical. “But now we know better.” Was it possible she was referring to … ?
He looked up, saw that Grey was still engaged, and took a chance. “Or perhaps … not so good for Mr. Harvey?” he said.
There was a little silence. Then the colour came back into the girl’s fair skin. “Do you know him?” she said quietly.
“Who? Harvey?” He was disingenuous.
“No.”
A friend of Lymond’s. Well, well, thought Gideon. “I’ve met him,” he said circumspectly, aloud.
She was uncertain, obviously, of his standing; and doubtful also of being overheard. She made a small pause and then said, “As an antagonist?” Which made Gideon himself stop to think.
“At first; yes,” he said. “Things are a little different now. Do you know him well?”
“Know who?” said Lord Grey, piling the last paper on Myles’ outstretched arms. “Harvey? She probably met him at Haddington.” He looked up accusingly. “You asked me about that man before. I told you. He’s got this wound in the leg and he can’t get back to Berwick yet—maybe not for weeks. It’s damned awkward. I only put him into that convoy as an excuse for bringing him here, and now he isn’t here, and that Lymond fellow has disappeared into smoke.”
Neither Gideon nor the girl said anything.
“Anyway,” said Lord Grey, calming down. “I’ve got a job for you, Gideon. Have to tear you away from our fair company here. Which reminds me.” He pinched a lip, staring with vague approval at the blind face. “I must get a proper chaperone for you. Wish my wife were here. Or—by God, that’s it!” he exclaimed, struck by a brilliant idea. “The Countess of Lennox! Get the damned woman away from under our feet!”
There was no change in the girl’s serene face. Gideon said without thinking too much, “But—Willie, I don’t think that very suitable.”
“Why not?”
Gideon couldn’t think why not. He repeated, emphatically, “I don’t think Lady Christian and Meg Douglas would have anything in common. Lady Lennox’s dealings with her countrymen—some of them—haven’t been particularly savoury,” he said distinctly, and saw the girl’s intelligent face turn questioningly toward him.
She said tentatively, “You mean the Countess might try to harm my friends through me?” and Gideon knew that although Grey might and did think it nonsense, the girl understood.
He gave her a friendly farewell a little later, and went off, in high good humour for no evident reason.
* * *
The interview between Lord Grey and Margaret, Countess of Lennox, was everything he was afraid it might