Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [187]
The blind girl answered serenely. “As a matter of fact, I do know him,” and Margaret was softly eager. “You do? Is he the same? Where is he, these days?”
“In prison,” said Christian prosaically. “I suppose he’s the same. He talks a great deal.”
“In prison!” echoed Margaret, her voice sharpening just too much.
“In Scotland? But that means he’ll hang! Is that true?”
“I believe so.”
Lady Lennox said agitatedly, “But can’t something be done? Is anyone helping him?”
“Who could help him?”
Margaret said, “You’re his friend. I’m sure you are. If you were free, couldn’t you do something?”
If she were free.…
A crease appeared between the large, direct eyes. “I don’t see what. I’ve done him a small service—I got him the home address of a man he wanted to see for some reason. But that won’t be any good to him now, naturally.”
So simple an explanation. Margaret, comforted, gave a sigh. “So sad. All that talent—but people, I suppose, make their own ruin, however much their friends try to help. Now,” said the Countess cheerfully, “Is there anything I can bring that you would like?”
After she had gone, Christian sat alone for a long time in her own black world, conquering a rage which would have alarmed her visitor. Then, dismissing the incident with an effort, she spared a moment to thank the well-intentioned spirit of Gideon Somerville before resuming the furious pacing of her prison.
Gideon’s errand for Grey took him to Norham, and he was forced to stay overnight. Making casual inquiries on his return, he found that the prisoners taken at Dalkeith had been dispatched that day to the Archbishop of York; and that, before she left, the blind girl had asked once or twice after himself.
He might, left to himself, have pursued the party; but Lord Grey had other ideas. With his best men scattered like caraway seed over the countryside from Roxburgh to Broughty, he needed an able officer at his side.
Gideon tolerated it, his desire to return home tempered by the discovery that Margaret Lennox was still at Berwick, and meant to stay there until the man Harvey was well enough to return. If the Countess could play a waiting game, then so could he, thought Gideon, and caught himself with a surprised grimace. One would think it was his affair.
The following Monday, he was ordered to Newcastle to discuss finance with the Treasurer. “By the time that’s over, I shall probably be in Newcastle myself,” said Lord Grey. “Probably see you there. You ought to be off, anyway, by the morning. Oh—you were interested in Sam Harvey?”
“Yes!” said Gideon, suddenly alert.
“That Stewart girl said he was slightly injured. Well, he isn’t. He’s got a ball in the thigh and it’s damned dangerous. They’re not sure if he’ll live.”
Gideon said quickly, “When did you hear?”
“Just now. Bad luck on the fellow. I feel a shade guilty,” said Lord Grey peevishly. “I shouldn’t have brought him up at all if I’d known that Lymond fellow was out of action.”
“Yes. Bad luck,” said Gideon. “Willie—d’you mind if I leave now instead of tomorrow? I could call in on Kate on my way.”
“On your way?” said Grey indulgently. “Twenty miles out of it, I should have thought. But never mind. That’s husbands for you: I’ve done the same myself. All right. Give her my love.”
“Yes, I will,” said Gideon, and slipped out, calling for his man. He was on the road in less than an hour; and by next day, Tuesday, the nineteenth of June, he was home at Flaw Valleys.
II
The Ultimate Check
The corrouers and berars of lettres ought
hastily and spedily do her viage that
comanded hem with oute taryenge. For
their taryenge might noye and greve them
that sende hem forth, or ellis them to
whom they ben sent too. And torne hem
to ryght grete domage or villonye.
1. The Fast Moves
LYMOND recovered from his wound with characteristic rapidity; from the beginning, in fact, he acted as if it did not exist, and Kate was perfectly willing to do the same.
A frangible