Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [24]
‘But you’re going to settle together? Here?’
‘It depends,’ Nicholas said.
‘I imagine it does,’ the Abbot said. ‘You fell out with the St Pols. You know the old man is back at Kilmirren? And he comes here to his town house as well. I’m not having blood and battery break out because you and he are discussing your demerits.’
‘He didn’t set the robbers on us,’ said Nicholas.
‘But you know who did? And if you stay here, you’ll kill them?’
‘No, I won’t,’ Nicholas said. ‘If I stay here, I’ll have enough to do managing the King and his family, from all that I hear. Or am I wrong?’ He had asked a lot of people about the five royal siblings of Scotland, because he had known them when they were young. Adorne’s account had worried him most. Adorne knew a surprising amount, being well briefed by his nephew, Anselm Sersanders, who lived in Scotland and represented Flemish merchants. He was going to have to see Sersanders. And others.
The Abbot said, ‘What more do you wish to know? They are not children now. The King is out of his minority, and the Queen is nineteen. Even the lady Margaret is old enough now to be at Court.’
‘I heard,’ Nicholas said.
‘Yes. Then you remember Mary, the King’s elder sister, who once stayed with Anselm Adorne. She is little seen, being in the west with her children, and having the advice of her noble husband, mature in years. While he lives, all is well.’
‘And the other two?’ Nicholas said.
‘You heard Master Secretary Whitelaw,’ said the Abbot. ‘My lord John of Mar, sadly, is no less wild at eighteen than before, and sometimes defeats all we can do. The King’s oldest brother is as he was when you befriended him. That is, he is of middling understanding, but can be persuaded to act responsibly on occasion. The King and he do not always agree, but he has the affection of the ladies Mary and Margaret his sisters. He is a man who needs friends.’
He was talking of Alexander, Duke of Albany. Red-haired, impressionable Sandy, now aged twenty-three. Thirteen years younger than Nicholas. And he was repeating what had already been said, obliquely, by the Lords Three in that hair-raising interrogation just now. ‘My young lord was once fond of your company, Messire de Fleury. Is it a relationship you aspire to resume?’ Well, in fact, yes.
He still hadn’t found out what he wanted. Nicholas said, ‘I hear the King can be moody.’
The Abbot did not look unduly disturbed. ‘He has come into authority. You will notice a difference. And yes, occasionally he will give way to passion. The Archdeacon—you remember Scheves? He also went to Louvain—has some excellent palliatives, should his grace become over-excited.’
Nicholas said, ‘All the students got over-excited at Louvain, but I don’t recall any palliatives. I suppose we provided our own. Is his grace calm at the moment?’
‘Perfectly,’ said the Abbot. ‘But this is why weighty news requires to be serenely and clearly presented. Tomorrow, you will explain to him with great care all the recent events in Burgundy, and answer his questions immediately.’
‘If I can,’ Nicholas said. ‘So you think I shall be summoned tomorrow?’
‘I know you will. But you will do very well. And we shall be there. He is still at the Castle.’
Nicholas knew that. The dust here in Holyroodhouse came from the rebuilding of the royal household’s lodgings, which they so often preferred to the windy fort on the ridge-top. Crossing the courtyard to come here, he had had to avert his face, there were so many masons and workmen he knew. Everyone in Scotland seemed to have building-fever. Construction men travelled from palace to palace in jolly companies, like some new, free-drinking monastic order. The Abbot said, ‘If you decide to stay, we might find a room here until your family comes. My lord of Albany often uses these lodgings, and even the Queen and her babes.’
And that was too much. Nicholas said something under his breath, which was still all too audible. Then he apologised. His fingers ached, and his guts.
Crawford said, ‘At least you excused yourself this