Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [384]
Crackbene sat, unsurprised, his fists on his knees. She could have slapped him. ‘No,’ Kathi said. She listened, fuming. Nicholas and Julius had known all about this, and had said nothing. At first, of course, it seemed understandable: the story was common enough. A nun had transgressed, and died giving birth to a child. The child’s father had also died young, and the fate of the child was not known.
‘So?’ Kathi said. She had become tired of saying ‘Reverend Mother.’
Crackbene spoke. (Marvellous.) He said, ‘The name of the nun was not a secret: she had stayed at both North Berwick and Eccles. The name of the father was unknown. Since we came here, the Prioress and I considered it advisable to find it. This is one of the safe houses for treasure. When the English raids started, the Eccles rolls were brought here, and so was the cartulary from Coldingham. I happened to know what was relevant in the Coldingham papers. I found them for the Prioress, while she sought and showed me the records from Eccles. These completed the story. The nun’s name, as we knew, was Elizabeth Semple. The father’s name was Andrew, half-brother of Robert Liddell of Halkerston. Their child was a son, and a cousin therefore of Jamie, the present Liddell of Halkerston.’
‘But not his heir,’ Kathi said.
‘No. Sir James has a son of his own, and is of comfortable means, but not wealthy. The Semple family, on the other hand, has chanced to generate great wealth through one of its members, and has much to offer its young.’
‘Elizabeth Semple?’ Kathi repeated. She tried to think of all her acquaintances of Elliotstoun.
‘Try Elizabeth de St Pol,’ Crackbene said. ‘The disowned sister of Jordan de St Pol of Kilmirren.’
Fat Father Jordan. She stared at the stolid, sea-weathered face, thinking wildly. Kilmirren’s siblings, including this poor girl, had long since died. His two children and one grandson were also dead. A second grandson, Diniz, was removed, by his own wish, from the succession. Nicholas, who claimed to be a third, had not proved his claim, and Fat Father Jordan had repudiated him also. But Kilmirren could change his mind. Proof might be found. Nicholas and Liddell, Elizabeth’s son, if he lived, were the only possible remaining heirs of Kilmirren. With Nicholas and his family out of the way, Elizabeth’s son would be the only claimant when old Kilmirren died. Claimant to Kilmirren, and claimant, he might expect, to whatever fortune his second cousin Nicholas left.
Kathi said, ‘So what happened to the son, Liddell? Is he in Scotland? Living secretly somewhere, perhaps being helped by Sir James?’
Crackbene said, ‘It’s a small country. I know of no one called Liddell who fits. I don’t think, either, that Sir James is involved, or even knows there is such a person. His uncle died before Sir James was born, and he has always been well disposed towards Nicholas. No. We think this Liddell has changed his name: gone abroad maybe, and returned with another identity.’
He was speaking slowly. The Prioress’s brows had gone up, tall as razor shells. She had said she knew who the man’s parents were, not that she knew how to find him. She made no comment, nor did anyone for a long while. Then Kathi gritted her teeth, for cowardice was not for a Sersanders. She said, ‘When did Elizabeth die?’
The date was a long time ago: over fifty years. It didn’t help. You forgot that Nicholas was so much younger than anyone else. Within the House of Niccolò, and her uncle’s circle, and among their associates, Kathi could think of six or seven men who could be the right age for Elizabeth’s son, even if they claimed to be older or younger. She was no nearer to knowing. She was glad. She remained glad even after she left the room, and took Crackbene to task for his duplicity, and wished she could vent her annoyance on Nicholas as well.
She actually believed, then, that Crackbene had told her everything. She knew better, a few