Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [216]
‘But you’re terribly, terribly sorry you stabbed Henry,’ Kathi said.
‘And burned down Beltrees,’ remarked Gelis, on his other side, in a murmur.
‘What is it?’ said Jodi.
All his elders became silent. Then Nicholas said, ‘Your cousin Henry and his grandfather are here. Smile, behave nicely, and especially be kind to poor Henry. He has a sore arm.’
It was all the advice that Nicholas gave, Kathi noted, throughout everything that followed. As they left the church, and during the last of the ceremonies, distance separated them from Kilmirren, and the same was true at the keep, where the feast prepared for them was royal, as befitted the King’s sister and her late husband. Had the King succumbed to his illness, or been poisoned, had Sandy been judged and justified, Hamilton would very likely have ruled, as regent for James, Fourth of the Name, now aged six.
The little Prince had a good nurse, Nanse Preston, but not a Nicholas, who was at present handling Jodi, nearly eleven, by doing nothing. When the snow had first come to Edinburgh, Nicholas and John le Grant had disappeared down to the workshops at Leith and returned with paint-smeared fingers and discoloured thumbnails, quarrelling noisily and hoarse with shouting and laughter. With them, they dragged four new-made and magnificent sledges, two for adults, one for a child, and one for a wheel chair.
In the event, Robin hadn’t come to Hamilton, but three of the sledges were with them, red and blue and gold, and Nicholas had begged Jodi off duty last night to find a clearing and race them by torchlight, himself and Jodi alone. Kathi and Gelis had watched. Neither spoke. This was not remotely like the children’s sport he had devised for Margaret and Rankin. It was glorious in its excitement and beauty. It was as it must have been in Poland. Indoors, later, Kathi had talked of it to Nicholas.
‘That was dangerous.’
‘I know,’ he had said. ‘I’m too old for that sort of thing.’ But he had turned his attention to her.
She said, ‘Were you quite sure Jodi could do it? He was very brave.’
‘You have to guess,’ he said. ‘With men, as well. If they’re not sure, you can usually tell.’
‘Unless they love you,’ she had said. ‘Then they will die, rather than fail.’
His gaze did not change, but she felt rather than saw a reflex movement, slight as that of a sea animal touched. It made her speak quickly. ‘No. It may not be so.’
‘I don’t think so,’ he said. His voice was quite clear. ‘But I shall watch for it now. Thank you.’
But now, he had left Jodi alone. And Gelis never interfered, Kathi knew, with the way Nicholas handled Jodi. She ought not to have spoken, herself.
• • •
DURING THE BREAKFAST, nothing happened. Bishop Spens spoke, and John, the clever, lame, illegitimate man who was Hamilton’s oldest son, replied in a way that did himself as much honour as it did the long, controversial career of his father. Among the family, Kathi could not see that particular Hamilton girl whom, according to fevered report, Nicholas had once stolen from Simon de St Pol, Henry’s father. Nicholas had devoted a lot of time, in the past, to investigating Simon’s discarded mistresses, but he had had his reasons, as Gelis certainly understood. Gelis, too, was watching Jordan de St Pol and his grandson, far down the table. Watching the exquisite golden-haired Henry, wearing the royal cipher of a King’s Archer on his shoulder, and an expression in his eyes, blue as Simon’s, in which amusement barely masked something darker whenever he looked towards Nicholas.
The meal ended; the Princess and the family withdrew, and the rest of the company, reseated, waited to be summoned to follow them. Nicholas rose, and walked down to where Kilmirren sat, chatting amicably to his neighbour. Henry stiffened and said something, and the fat man broke off and looked round. ‘Ah, Nicholas! Come to receive an old man’s thanks for stabbing this moron. Where would he be now, if you had not? Where would