Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [203]
‘I, too,’ Nicholas said. He was silent. ‘You are telling me something. Should I go to Venice?’
‘It will not prolong his life,’ Moriz said. ‘But if you wish to go, go. You have paid your debt in Scotland, from all that I hear.’
It was a short walk, and Julius arrived home soon after. But by then all the necessary news had been exchanged, and Nicholas had listened to what Moriz had to tell him about Bonne.
‘You are going to see her? I am glad. I visit her regularly but Julius, as you know, revolted against everything that reminded him of his wife.’
‘And she?’
‘She is well enough. That is, you pay for her keep, and she is fed and sheltered and trained by the nuns. But she is a young woman now, and is no longer quite so content with captivity. She never speaks of her mother. I think she resents her. This is natural.’
Walking, Nicholas had said, ‘In her last moments, Adelina claimed that Bonne was not her daughter.’
‘That she was your daughter and Marian’s. Yes, I know. She never speaks of that either. If one asks her what she remembers before her mother married the Graf, she says she does not remember. Nor is it possible to tell by her age. She may be sixteen, as her mother once claimed.’
‘Or eighteen, as Marian’s daughter would have been, had it lived. They say at Damparis that it died,’ Nicholas said.
Moriz said, ‘Your lady, Gelis, was told so as well.’ His voice was gentle, for an opinionative dwarf from Augsburg. He said, ‘For what it is worth, I see nothing of you in her. More, I do not think your wife would have borne a live child and failed to tell you. But, of course, she may have been led to believe that it was dying or dead, and it survived.’
‘But someone would have told me,’ Nicholas said. ‘Surely. Surely.’
‘I think so,’ said Moriz. ‘You have chosen the generous part, to take the burden of her upbringing, so that Julius remains only her nominal guardian. He should be grateful. But if he closes the business, a decision must be made about Bonne. I am unlikely to stay here for ever.’
‘I know. I shall see her,’ Nicholas said. ‘But I hope Julius changes his mind. I shall send him all the business I can.’
‘It is not business he wants,’ Moriz said. ‘It is admiration, and courtly society, and money.’
Then they were back, and Julius, arriving, filled the rest of the day with adventures that reminded Nicholas, once again, of the wayward delights that had once made up their lives. Then next morning he left, with Julius’s embrace round his shoulders and Julius’s words in his ear. ‘I miss you, you young lout. Give me a month or two, and I shall surprise you yet.’
AS FOR BONNE, Moriz was right: she did not look like Nicholas. Entering the Abbess’s room in her demure robe, hands folded, long brown hair overlaid with white lawn, she could be seen to be tall, but to lack either Marian’s bright colour or his own clownish pits. Her eyes were blue, and her frame was sturdy rather than graceful. She did not look like Adelina either. She did not look like anyone he knew.
Under the Abbess’s eye she answered his questions with a certain crisp brevity. From the Abbess’s expression, Nicholas deduced that she was deemed to be on the borderline of impertinence. He asked leave to walk with the girl in the cloisters, and it was granted. He was a generous patron.
Alone, she allowed the irony in her voice to be heard. ‘I am sorry. I hear you purchase my clothing, but I am not sure for what purpose. You have bought my wardship and marriage perhaps? For yourself, or a friend? And if so, might I meet him?’
‘You would rather be out in the world, Bonne?’ he said.
She said, ‘What should I say? I would not have you think me ungrateful. But there is a certain difference in age.’
‘Then for a young, well-landed nobleman?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Perhaps. Or an old one,’ she said. He looked for mischief, and found only continuing irony. He did not know whether to be grateful or not. It was not Marian’s style, or even Adelina’s. He remembered Felix sounding like this, copying the pawnbroker