Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [109]
John, who came from Aberdeen, said, ‘Apparently Nicholas left home early this morning, for how long no one knows. Our message came later, and rooms are being prepared. Lowrie, the steward, had to go out, but they say he’ll be back, and ask us if we would like a refreshment in the parlour. One of the girls is coming to look after Jodi.’
They were inside the house, and the woman had turned and was encouraging Gelis to follow. ‘Just a step this way, my lady. You’ve had a wearisome journey, but you’re home now. And I ken who’ll be richt glad tae see ye.’
The man behind bringing their baggage muttered something, and the woman turned on him, arms on hips. ‘And why for should I not say what I think?’ And to Gelis, ‘Am I being familiar, my lady?’
The noise had receded, the air had become cool; the smells inside the house were of seasoned timber, and scented wax lights, and something fragrant, cooking. Gelis said, ‘You are being welcoming, and Master John and Jodi and I are most grateful. What is your name?’
It was Mailie. The girl who came next was called Ella, and was introduced to both Jodi and his bodyguard. A few questions more, and the first steps had been taken towards integrating with her new household. She kept it friendly and brief, and at the end was left in the parlour, with John and Jodi, and some dishes of pastry and marchpane, and some wine.
John said, ‘Well done. Well done, Jodi, as well. By the time papa comes, you’ll be as much at home here as he was. He’ll be astonished.’
No one knew where my lord was. Mailie said that this was unusual: that everyone knew, as a rule, what his movements were. She would take a wager that Master Lowrie, when he came back, could say.
After a while, Jodi fell asleep in his corner, and Gelis felt her own eyes beginning to close. She sat up. The engineer was standing at the window. Gelis said, ‘Do you want to wait for him?’
John le Grant turned. ‘I’d like to go and see Robin. Would you mind?’
She didn’t mind. In anyone other than John, it would have been tact. Before he went, he carried Jodi up to his new bed, accompanied by Ella. Jodi hardly woke. Below, Gelis walked round the room, touching cushions, lifting books. She had glimpsed Nicholas’s office with the desk in it, efficiently marshalled. It was much as she had imagined, except that he was not there. She had seen, too, the chamber with its wide, canopied bed which she saw he had made half his own. She had had her coffers put there, but hadn’t opened them. She would have to ask Mailie to find her a servant. Or the absent Lowrie.
She was tired, but she would not lie there, to be found. This time, he must take her.
Soon after that, the absent Lowrie arrived. She heard voices outside; then the steward tapped on the door and came in.
He was hard to assess: a neat man with a collected manner. Only when he began to speak could you guess that he was a clerk, as well as a man who managed the house and its master. She realised he was saying that he had brought someone to see her.
She had no wish to receive anyone. She said, ‘I should like to hear first, please, about my husband.’
‘That is why I brought this lady,’ said the man Lowrie. ‘She will tell you.’
Someone stood in the doorway: someone short and plump and not very young whom Gelis, rising, recognised as if four years were nothing. Bel of Cuthilgurdy, sharp-tongued neighbour of Jordan de St Pol, and once friend of Jordan’s dead daughter Lucia. Bel, who could live in Kilmirren House, and yet prove a staunch friend of Nicholas, and herself, and young Jodi. Bel of Cuthilgurdy here—why?
The round shapeless face gave nothing away. Bel said, ‘I mauna stay. I’ll not spoil your homecoming. I’m fair pleased to see you, but ye’ve come on a bleak day, my hinny. I’ve something to tell you.’
Lowrie slipped from the room. Gelis, rising to rush forward, stopped. Nicholas. No, of course not. Not in these words. Then she said, hesitantly, ‘Robin?’
‘No.’ The small woman came