Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [307]
Percy again at his side. The door shut on his escort and he stood, meeting the Duke’s dark, cynical eyes.
‘So,’ said Dickon of Gloucester. ‘I have not a great deal to say to you. You will hand me, please, the paper which you carry, presumably, on your person. Or if you prefer, I shall have it taken by force.’
‘The lord Abbot enjoys the conversations of others,’ said Nicholas. He drew out the paper, which the Duke leaned over and took, unfolding it to read at a glance.
He said, ‘The Abbot may enjoy what he hears. I do not. Your purpose was to suborn your own Prince, denying him his right to the throne, and sowing mistrust between him and ourselves. The information you brought is of course useless, but we hardly depended on it. You might even like to know that we feel so confident as to proceed with our plan. The host you hear stirring will be on the Borders of Scotland within a few days.’
Nicholas said, ‘You cannot achieve this in twenty-eight days, my lord. What I said is true. There are many who are impatient with the present King, but the support for the Duke of Albany is uncertain. Whatever you take, you cannot reckon to hold.’ He thought it worth saying, in that he might be believed, in extremis. For his own conduct, he had no excuses to make.
The Duke was studying him. ‘What did you stand to gain? You won the regard of the Duchess my sister. Did England have nothing to offer, if Flanders had failed?’
It was an offer, or the opening for one. It was not a tune Nicholas de Fleury wanted to dance to. He said, ‘I have already refused a pension from France. My family is settled in Scotland, and we are satisfied.’
‘You are saying,’ said Gloucester, ‘that you have taken this trouble because, for you, the present régime is most suitable. You do not wish to change kings, but you would be happy to see my lord of Albany return to high office in Scotland?’
‘That is so, my lord,’ Nicholas said. He couldn’t think what he had overlooked. The Duke was smiling, although Percy wasn’t. Percy said, ‘My lord Duke—’
Dickon Gloucester said, ‘No. I am putting this to M. de Fleury because I wish him to see that his judgement is faulty and that his future might well lie where he did not expect, with a new and generous employer. M. de Fleury, you may know that a treaty was drawn up at Fotheringhay, between my lord and brother the King, and the Prince you call Albany?’
‘My lord Duke!’ said the Earl again. He sounded furious.
The Duke looked at him. ‘Does this distress you? Would you prefer to leave?’ He waited. As the other fell silent, he turned back.
‘As I was saying. The Prince you call Albany, but who is now known, I have to tell you, as Alexander, King of Scotland, by the King of England’s royal gift. Shall I go on?’
Show nothing. Do nothing. ‘Please do,’ Nicholas said.
‘I felt you should be apprised. By this treaty, or rather indenture, King Alexander promised, on obtaining his crown, to do homage to England; to break the alliance between Scotland and France; and to surrender the town and castle of Berwick within fourteen days of entering Edinburgh. Equally, my brother King Edward has been promised, in return for his aid, possession of certain places—Berwick-upon-Tweed, Liddesdale, Eskdale, Ewesdale, Annandale and Lochmaben Castle, as I remember. He has also offered the Prince his daughter Cecilia, provided the Prince can free himself from other wives.’
There was a thoughtful pause. Gloucester added, ‘It is all well attested, of course. The Prince used his signet, and signed the document with his name, Alexander R, employing an extremely confident flourish. He had, I think, been practising.’
He stopped. His voice was solicitous, but his eyes hinted at a wicked amusement. He said, ‘Thus, in whatever role the Prince re-enters Scotland, you may be sure that life there will not remain as it is. You may even wish to reconsider your future.’
He smiled. Nicholas could not bring