Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [245]
Now, six years later, triumphant officialdom spoke. Francis Crawford of Lymond, Master of Culter, being in ward in Her Majesty’s Castle of Edinburgh, was summoned to appear on the eighth day of the month of August in the year of Our Lord 1548, to answer charges of treason, of revealing and showing to our ancient enemies of England the secrets of the Queen; of treasonable intercommuning and rendering of aid and comfort to our said enemies; of murder, assault, abduction and robbery, and crimes against the Estate and Church as set forth in the indictment.
The news reached Will Scott where he hung about in a frenzy of inactivity in Edinburgh. He tried and failed to get access to the Castle. Buccleuch, already aware of the event, left his son alone and got back to the siege of Haddington. Richard, with a lot to do at Midculter and a strong unwillingness to leave it, stayed with his wife and made quiet preparations to return before the eighth. Sybilla, having got rid of all her encumbrances, collected a small, well-armed retinue and left for parts unknown.
* * *
The Dowager reached Ballaggan on the first of August, carrying the date in her breast like an aposteme.
She was brought into the hall and made welcome, under the vacant survey of alabaster and murrhine. Crossing the little Turkey carpets which cost so much, Dandy Hunter took her to his study as she asked, and poured her wine and made her comfortable, without pressing her for news of either of her sons. She smiled at him very gently and took from her purse a little box, which she laid on the table between them. “I came to return this,” she said.
Smiling, a little puzzled, he took it. His sleeves were caught with embroidered bands and the stuff of his jerkin, as fine as her own, was lined with tissue. Smiling at her again, he unwrapped, fastidiously, what lay inside the box; and then, with the smile lingering forgotten on his lips, drew out and laid before him the contents.
It was a hexagonal brooch, set in ebony and diamonds and shaped like a heart set about with crystal plaques, each bearing an angel’s head in onyx.
The silence stretched out. Then Sir Andrew stirred and lifted his eyes. “But this isn’t mine.”
“No?” said Sybilla. “But Patey Liddell altered it for you: I saw it in his shop. Your mother might remember.”
Remembrance brightened his face. “Ah!” he said. “Now I have it. Yes, indeed—I bought it for Mother, and lost it again the same day.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I’m sorry, but your son was the culprit. The brooch lay by the bed when he broke into the house, and when he had gone, it had vanished too. I’m afraid I was so angry and concerned about Mother that I dismissed it … I’d forgotten it altogether. Wherever did you find it?”
“But,” said Sybilla, “you handed it to Patey after Francis’s visit.”
“Patey must be mistaken.”
“I’m not mistaken,” retorted Sybilla serenely. “I overheard you.” She paused, and then went on. “I got it from Agnes Herries: did it puzzle you to find her wearing it? Before that, it belonged to Mariotta. They took the rest of the rubbish from her at Annan. It very nearly did what you meant it to do.”
He touched his head with his hand and sat back, smiling again. “Wait a moment—what I wanted it to do? I’m sorry, but hasn’t Mariotta explained? It was Lymond who sent her all the jewellery. Blame me if you like for not telling Richard, but your poor daughter-in-law put me in an appalling position. But I swear I did my best to persuade her to confide in Culter.”
“I’m sure you did,” said Sybilla placidly. “With results we all know. Of course Mariotta thought they were from Francis: she was infatuated with the idea of him. That must have been a little disconcerting for you. But when she didn’t automatically attribute them to you, you must have realized she wasn’t, after all, going to fall into your arms as you planned she should. So you adapted your scheme accordingly