Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [348]
‘Simon did,’ Nicholas said, after a moment. ‘Henry’s father. Henry just knew that his father was trying to save him, which was all that mattered.’
‘But,’ had said Jordan, ‘you would be glad that you had. That you tried. It wasn’t your fault that they died. They were fighting a war. They could have died anywhere.’ He paused and said, ‘I think you would have felt worse, like I do, if they had died somewhere else, and you just heard of it. You wish you could say goodbye. I wish I could have said goodbye to Whistle Willie.’
‘So do I,’ Nicholas said. He didn’t know how he appeared suddenly to be receiving counsel instead of giving it. He said, ‘But people part all the time, without saying anything special. You can’t. What is important is that the other person should know you are fond of them. Whistle Willie didn’t need to be told that. And he’s happy. He had a great, frenzied sunburst of a life, in a place that suited him, and he only suffered for moments at the end of it. You and I are really sorry for ourselves, as much as for him.’
‘I’m sorry for him,’ Jordan said. ‘And for Tam. I would be sorry if anything happened to you.’
‘Well, I’m glad of that,’ Nicholas said. ‘Things do happen. Everyone is taken away, sooner or later. I know how I would feel if I lost you. But you have to live through it. You are your own person, not anyone else’s.’
He had left soon after that, leaving Jordan, contented, behind him. He felt much the same. In trying to heal Jordan’s hurt, he had somehow crossed the next barrier himself.
That exchange had been private. Tonight was Crown business. This unscheduled visit to Adorne’s house was to discuss, with those working with Nicholas, the latest turn in the English negotiations. Undeniably, there was a personal element as well, but that was nothing to be afraid of. He hoped.
Adorne was not in the house. Now, he divided his time between the Tolbooth and Linlithgow, although he had spoken to Nicholas since his return, and his had been one of the aforementioned cautionary voices. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t seek vengeance, not yet. Adorne had said the same to Father Moriz and Tobie and John, and eventually to Robin, when he fell into one of his rare, uncontrolled rages on Kathi’s behalf. ‘We are here for the good of this kingdom. Let us deal with that first.’ Since Lauder, Nicholas had never been alone with Kathi to talk about any of it, nor had attempted to be. Adult comment (as it had transpired) had not been what he required.
Now, it was Tobie’s wife Clémence who opened the door, and accorded him the fond smile he hadn’t merited when she was Jordan’s nurse, but which he had earned as Tobie’s friend. Then he was in the parlour, and all seven of them were there, as he hoped, including his sparring-partner from Kilmirren House, whom he hadn’t seen since their fight eleven days before, and who stared at him, grunting, before he sat down. Kathi, her face winsomely blank, said, ‘You’ve come to apologise to Julius.’
Nicholas inspected Julius briefly, without enthusiasm, and returned his gaze to the others. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to tell you the news. Avandale and Scheves and the other two are just back from their meeting with Gloucester. He was, of course, amazed at being asked to negotiate, but ended by discussing the terms on which he might remotely consider ending the campaign. Some were agreed on the spot. The rest will depend on what happens on Sunday, when Wattie Bertram and his burghers go to meet him. It looks promising.’
‘What was promised?’ said John. John, who had no personal life, felt uncomfortable with others who had, and did not wish to talk about Henry, which suited Nicholas.
Nicholas said, ‘What we agreed. The surrender of Berwick-upon-Tweed. The return of Sandy to Scotland, fully pardoned, as the King’s most powerful subject, with all his lands and honours restored. Gloucester made a little speech about how sorry they would be to lose him. There isn’t, of course, the local backing to support Sandy as King, or not yet.’
No one spoke. These were the