Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [217]
Henry had risen to his feet. ‘I am afraid,’ he said, ‘I feel rather differently.’ Below the even tone, you could feel the hatred: for his grandfather; for Nicholas. Around them, seats had emptied.
Nicholas said, ‘I expect you do. And Lang Bessie’s with Mar now, as well. A heavy price to pay for attacking him, but it might have been worse.’
‘It cost rather more than that,’ said the old man. His large, firm face with its gleaming chins turned up to Nicholas. ‘Quite a large sum of money, in fact. Really, I think I shall have to take steps to have Henry’s manhood pledged to something more permanent than brewing-women. Do you have any suggestions?’
He was a devil. His voice carried down the long table where Gelis still sat, and Kathi herself.
Nicholas said, ‘I doubt if you need any, unless the entire female population is blind. In my experience, a few years of brewster-wives don’t do very much harm, before the nightingale sings. And the Malloch girl is not quite fourteen.’
The fat man looked gratified. ‘Indeed! I congratulate you. I hadn’t traced the latest conquest myself. Henry, you had better keep to professional engagements for a while. Then we shall consult, you and I.’
‘My grandfather indulges in pleasantries,’ Henry said. His voice would have iced a volcano. His gaze had left Nicholas. ‘But there, surely, is my van Borselen cousin. You remember Jordan, Grandfather Jordan? So tall! Nearly eleven! Just the age, surely, for his first professional engagement? What do you think?’
Jodi de Fleury, in his black Hamilton livery, had just re-entered the room. He paused at the sound of his name, and then glanced at the speaker, and the fat man beside him, and his own father. Then he said, ‘Forgive me, sir,’ and crossing the room, bent to deliver a message to the guests seated there. Then he returned, and stood before Jordan de St Pol. ‘My lord.’
Surprise and pleasure informed Kilmirren’s face. ‘Eleven! And of such a precocious maturity! Henry is right. The boy should be initiated at once. Why not leave him in Henry’s good hands?’
At the end of the table, it was Kathi, not Gelis, who made to rise. Gelis’s hand, hard on her arm, prevented her. Jodi, frowning a little, had lifted his eyes to where his father stood, and caught, as Kilmirren did not, the single droop of one eyelid. Jodi’s colour returned. Nicholas said, ‘Monseigneur! Of course, the offer is generous, but should we discuss it new-come from Mass, with Bishop Spens himself in the room? That is, I am sure Henry would be a considerate partner, but the Church is not sympathetic towards—’
The crash that stopped him came from Kilmirren’s great chair, astoundingly knocked aside by his bulk as he surged up and stood, facing Nicholas. The look on his face was such that Gelis’s nails dug into Kathi’s arm. Henry said, ‘Uncle Nicholas is teasing you, Grandfather. That is not what I meant.’
It was the voice they had all heard before: dulcet, contemptuous, but rarely if ever used to his grandfather. Sitting there, struck with revulsion and pity, Kathi was reminded of something she had heard about the old man, long ago, when Tilde de Charetty’s first child was lost. Something that she assumed Nicholas knew, but that perhaps he did not. She put her other hand over Gelis’s, and held it close.
Jordan de St Pol of Kilmirren stood where he had risen, powerful, composed as if Henry had never spoken. He looked at the youth, whose smile faded, and then back at Nicholas. ‘How tedious,’ he said. ‘Salacious, juvenile banter, in the presence of ladies. A misbegotten apprentice might be forgiven, but I feel less benevolent, Henry, towards yourself. What can we do to remedy this mistake?’
Jodi spoke. ‘I have been sent, Monseigneur, to ask you and your party to do the Princess the honour of joining her.’ If he had not understood the sense, he had grasped the ominous tone of what was developing. He stood, his back straight, his immense grey eyes meeting Kilmirren’s.
The fat man held the child’s gaze,