Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [179]
Adorne, most often at the Castle, was able sometimes to mediate. The Councillors exerted what pressure they could. Nicholas, after long months of handling, had achieved only some of the acceptance he had hoped for in Sandy: his position was simply that of a person in whom Sandy would often confide, and whose affection he could count on, for most of the time. As Sandy’s steward, Liddell had greater authority. But in essence, he and Liddell were to Sandy what Josaphat Barbaro, that wise envoy, had once put into words. They were his boon companions, with whom a prince might relax, after work with his serious councillors, but who were debarred from all matters of state. The trouble with Sandy was that he didn’t have, or want, serious councillors.
The winter was hard work. Complaints duly arrived from the English Wardens, and were given soft answers, to Albany’s fury. Yule and Uphaly, always useful distractions, spawned that year a series of ferocious entertainments, masterminded by Roger and Nicholas, which dazzled the young and were admired by the more thoughtful of their elders. Those who did not share in the profit were heard to wonder whether the Burgundians were not out to line their pockets again. Roger sent his singers out by the cartload for nothing, and the grumbles died down, except in Newbattle.
The end of the January festivities brought the pest; not the direst variety, but one that encouraged families to move to their country estates, if they had them, while the forests became crowded with hunting-parties. Kathi took her three children and their attendants to stay with their great-grandfather at Templehall, but Robin remained with Sersanders and Archie, while Tobie and Clémence became busy, as did all the physicians. The Court jogged about between Linlithgow and Stirling and Falkland, with Will Roger in attendance, and Adorne, and Nicholas, if Sandy was there. Gelis stayed at the Leith house. The Lords of the Council for Civil Causes held one well-fumigated meeting in the Tolbooth, and dissolved themselves until spring, so that the number of disputes in abeyance began to overflow into several bags. The King subjected himself to a number of meetings with his better-liked councillors, and called a meeting of Parliament for March. In theory, Edinburgh would be healthy by then, or if not, the meeting could be transferred elsewhere. It would not be cancelled, for its chief purpose was to raise money for the lady Margaret’s contracted wedding to the Earl Rivers, the King of England’s good-brother.
The lady Margaret was not present to comment, having formed the mutinous habit of departing from Court and staying in the homes of her friends’ parents, or with Mary her sister. Kathi, descending occasionally upon one or other of the Hamilton castles, took occasion now and then to hold mild discussions with the lady Mary on the advantages of keeping on the good side of England. Like Nicholas, she soon learned her own limitations; and took instead to sitting with the Princess’s elderly husband, whom she liked, and whose sickbed was always surrounded by clever sons from his earlier marriage. She saw, with pleasure, how well Jodi de Fleury fitted into that household, and how his confidence had grown. He appeared to be drawing again: one of the Hamiltons always seemed to be teaching him something. Kathi took Margaret with her more than once, to please Jodi, and enjoyed writing long letters to Gelis. She wondered if it was mortally wrong to be pleased that David Simpson was dead. They were all free. And Nicholas might be discovering what he wanted, at last.
The pest was over by March, and everyone came home. The Three Estates convened in Edinburgh on a Friday, in solemn procession, in all their great hats and long robes,