Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [189]
There was fiat challenge in Kate’s rigid spine. “Is there any reason why I should? I want—”
He interrupted her, pushing away the heavy silver vessel so that it slid precisely, like a curling stone, into the centre of the board between them.
“What you want is very clear. You want my confidence. If you can’t have that, you want to goad me into making admissions about myself. If you can’t have that, you use moral pressure. I’m quite conscious of my obligations and misdemeanours toward the members of your family. I disagree about the mode of compensation, that’s all.”
Her cheeks were scarlet. “Mr. Crawford, I really doubt if you’re in a position to agree or disagree about anything.”
The impatient, ruthless gaze lifted to hers. “Nor do I need to be reminded. You may expose me; you may baulk me. I’ve no remedy.”
“If you prize reticence more than your life,” said Kate dryly, “then you’re certainly beyond remedy.”
“Reticence? No,” he said. “But I prize freedom of the mind above freedom of the body. I claim the right to make my own mistakes and keep quiet about them. You have all the licence in the world to protect your husband. My life is at your disposal, but not my thoughts.”
“Dear me,” said Kate, rising. “I doubt if I could stomach your thoughts. It was just a few basic facts I was thinking of, such as whether you were one of these people who can eat goose eggs. The creatures keep laying them: an appalling habit, but we can’t break it.”
Untenable positions were not for Kate. His mouth relaxed, and he rose smoothly and opened the door for her, laughter lines gathering at the corners of the veiled eyes. “I thought the conversation was cutting an ovoid track. I wouldn’t for the world deprive you of the last bite.”
“Thank you,” said Kate. “If we’re referring to snakes. Not if you’re talking about fish.”
“Pythonissa,” retorted Lymond, and unexpectedly smiled.
* * *
She conceded him his victory.
In the days that followed, she did no more probing; partly because she now saw that these ferretings had no relation to the level on which his mind worked; and partly because his wits were too sharp. She could tire him; she could anger him. Four days had taught her that she could nearly shake his self-control and that he was himself shaken and dismayed by his weakening grip of himself. But she could never override him, and she stopped attempting it.
He had tried, she knew, to come to terms with Philippa, but without success. On the last occasion he had entered the music room, roving as he often did to the window; and after a moment, idly picked up Philippa’s lute which lay there.
He had forgotten, obviously, that Kate’s room opened from this one. She had been resting; and although during these last ten days she had found him civilized and undemanding company, she stayed where she was to avoid embarrassing them both. Thus she was able to hear the sweet, preoccupied roulades of the lute, and the crash of Philippa’s eruption into the room. The child stopped just inside the door, as her mother, opening her own door a judicious half inch, was able to see.
“That’s mine!” said Philippa. “That’s my lute you’re playing!”
Lymond laid the instrument gently down, and sat himself before Gideon’s harpsichord. “Lute and harpsichord?” he said. “That’s pretty erudite of you.”
The child pushed back her long hair. It was uncombed, and the hem of her gown, Kate was sorry to see, was grey with dust. Philippa said belligerently, “I can play the rebec as well.”
“Oh?”
“And the recorder.”
Philippa! Philippa! said Kate to herself, grinning. Lymond turned to the harpsichord. “Then you’re the person I want to see. Which d’you like playing best?”
“The lute.” The voice of ownership.
“Then,” said Lymond, rousing the keyboard to delicate life, “tell me how this finishes. I never could find out.”
It was only L’homme armé; a tune Philippa had certainly heard in her cradle and was bound to know every note of. She sauntered across the room.
“It’s L’homme armé.”
“I know. But how does it go on?”
She sidled past. “I don’t know.”
The harpsichord rang