Game of Kings - Dorothy Dunnett [91]
The court office which had crowned the painstaking career of Jonathan Crouch had led Gideon Somerville to the inner chambers of the Palace, the favour of King Henry, and the friendship of any with that commodity still to spare. On Henry’s death, Gideon had brought his wealth and his young family north to Hexham, had settled there, and was little seen unless for summons of war.
Or but for the importunities of Lord Grey. Gideon was sufficiently well-born to please the Lord Lieutenant, and good-humoured enough to suffer him. So he waited now in a room at Norham, listening to his lordship—not a young man, except in resilience and a certain honest hardihood of mind: a man with clear eyes and a pink skin, and hair thickly grey like a badger’s.
“I suppose,” said Lord Grey, coming at last to the point, “I suppose you’ve heard of the occurrence at Hume?”
Gideon, a compassionate man, shook his head.
“Oh. Well. That fellow Sir George Douglas has offered to give me access to one of the Scotts—Buccleuch’s heir, in fact. He’s roving the Borders in bad company, and one of his associates has a vendetta with someone in London. Douglas suggests we trap young Scott through this man.”
“Someone in London … ?” sought Gideon.
“Samuel Harvey’s the man this bandit—whoever he is—wants, but the bandit himself doesn’t know it yet,” said Grey. “He thinks it might be you.”
“I assure you, I haven’t a vendetta with anyone,” said Somerville. “Particularly a Scottish desperado. I didn’t know Sam Harvey had, either.”
“Well, I haven’t communicated with Harvey, so I don’t know what it’s about,” said Grey impatiently. “But that doesn’t matter. The point is, this associate of Scott’s is going to try and get in touch with one of you, and as Flaw Valleys’ near the Border, it’s likely to be you first.”
“How pleasant,” said Somerville. He looked a little taken aback. “And who is this spadassin who is about to visit me, and what do I do with him when he comes?”
“He’s got to trace you, so it may be some time before you meet him. Who he is doesn’t matter—Douglas was vague about his identity and I haven’t inquired. All you have to do is act as messenger for us, Gideon. When the man comes, give him this letter from Douglas. It’s all in order—I saw it before it was sealed. Here’s a copy for you to see.”
Somerville read the letter in silence. At the end he said, “And the only way of reaching him is through me?”
“The only way we know.”
Gideon pushed back the paper and getting up, walked about the room. “You’re thinking of Kate,” said Grey. “But you needn’t worry. I’ll give you as many men as you want for extra guard. All I ask is that you let the man in when he comes, and hand him that letter.”
Somerville said, “Forgive the egotism, but I’m thinking of myself as well as of Kate. I can’t quite see myself convincing an irate mercenary that I am actually his best friend. In any case, may he not even bring the man you want—Scott, is it?—with him?”
“All the men I shall give you will be capable of recognizing Scott, if he comes,” said Lord Grey; and for some reason his skin darkened. “Scott and another man, a Spaniard I’m anxious to catch. Yes. If Scott comes, they’ll take him. And you can tear up the letter.”
“Hum. And what if I’m away from home? If I’m called to Carlisle for Wharton’s next sally—”
“You have leave to refuse in my name,” said Lord Grey, with a certain satisfaction. “This time you can serve the King better by staying at home.”
“I can see,” said Gideon, “I’m going to be popular everywhere. Willie, I’m a peaceable man with a happy family life trying to mind my own business. What on earth am I involving myself in this for?”
“Because,” said