Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [194]
Kathi helped. Now Robin was self-sufficient, and busy, and safe, Kathi seemed to be everywhere at once, darting from her own children to Efemie at Haddington to Nanse Preston and the Queen’s children at Stirling; from her brother over the road to her uncle and Wodman in the High Street. She snatched time at Provost Bonkle’s hospice with Will Roger, learning new music and listening to sad reports of Hugo’s drinking and painting. Occasionally, the absence of Nicholas riled Will. Sometimes she made a mistake, and there would be a crash as Roger flung something. Then he would apologise. ‘It isn’t that he was a musician. It just came naturally, damn him,’ she told Gelis, later.
She also spent time on Margaret, the other Princess, seizing her interest whenever she could. The disaster at Beltrees had put an end, at least, to Simpson’s unsettling of Meg. He had set out, perhaps, with a Bailzie-like plan to seduce her, but despite his confidence in his charms he must have realised, sooner or later, that she looked upon him as old. But his admiration, his wooing, the salacious poetry, the French way of kissing and dancing had all reinforced her resistance to the English political marriage that the kingdom required. And visiting Mary, she had her sister’s example before her.
Dazzling Margaret with the accomplishments of Lord Rivers was no part of Kathi’s intention, but she did mention an Adorne cousin’s high opinion of English court life, and the remarkable beds, and how big the dress allowance always was.
What had happened at Beltrees: even now, Gelis could hardly bring herself to remember. She had never before felt truly thankful that someone had gone, and she tried not to think so now, for David Simpson had been a killer most often by default, and not by intention. But his death meant that they were safe. Jordan de St Pol came to Edinburgh now and then: she saw the house was occupied and his personal servants in town. She imagined he was satisfying his curiosity—his endless curiosity—about Nicholas. When it was known that Nicholas had gone, he went back to Kilmirren.
Henry had struck up a sardonic friendship with John le Grant, and in his time off from the Guard could be found at the siege, learning to transfer to artillery what he had already been taught about sailing. She came across him occasionally, upon which Henry would make some acid joke about Nicholas at the French Court in Paris, and she would reply in the same vein. He had quite a nice wit.
Bel stayed in the St Pol house for a while, and then went back to Stirling. During her stay, Gelis never visited her uninvited, but occasionally Bel would cross the road to see her, or call on Tobie and Clémence, or take some sweetmeats for Kathi’s children. She never said very much, but was good company, as always. Gelis thought that she, too, had only waited to learn what Nicholas was going to do.
Which was, of course, to go to France, and apparently stay there.
About his lengthening absence, Kathi spoke only once, and then obliquely, for there were some things too painful for words.
‘I suppose they will all be in Paris. What a hardship.’
And Gelis had answered, ‘I know.’
That was all. What they meant was quite different.
If Nicholas has freedom in Paris, he could contrive a visit outside. And if he reaches Damparis, he will hear confirmed what you and I tried to tell him, and Marian de Charetty hoped he would never find out.
I know. I know. I know.
EVEN BEFORE HE obtained the King’s sanction, Nicholas had sent to Bruges to tell Diniz he was coming. It was only fair, even