Gemini - Dorothy Dunnett [400]
He was holding her. Her mind was quite clear, but something seemed to have happened to her limbs. His clasp, although one-sided, was quite comforting. He must have been an attractive husband to Adelina, even though she only married him to use against Nicholas.
But he must have known that. That must have been why he married her. That was why Tasse had to die, because she would have recognised who Adelina was. All those other shame-faced suggestions they had tossed about in the Floory Land in Julius’s absence—that he had traced her by using Adorne’s name at Montello, that he had lain in wait for her at Cologne, not the other way round—must be true. Moriz had thought so, based on something Bonne had said, which Gelis had substantiated. But all the embarrassed speculations about Julius had always petered out in rejection and ridicule, for he was the lifelong friend of Nicholas, and had saved Nicholas’s life, over and over.
And so he had, when Nicholas was young, and full of well-concealed, brilliant promise, and on the threshold of building the golden kingdom which Julius, and Julius alone, would step in and inherit.
And Nicholas, all the time, had known, and had said nothing. And Julius had no idea that he knew.
Julius said, ‘How do you feel? The wine will help, really.’ There was a thread of impatience in his voice. If the papers were here, this might be his last chance to find them.
The wine, thought Kathi, had better help. She had to scotch all this, quickly. She emptied the cup, banged it down and got up, wavering slightly. She said, ‘I should like to go now.’
‘Then let me take you,’ said Nicholas from the doorway. He hardly looked at Julius. He was wearing hose, and someone’s doublet over a torn shirt. He had a sword. He said, ‘I’m sorry. I hear someone told you about Anselm. You don’t want to be here, on your own.’
‘She was just going,’ Julius said.
Plain Sersanders obstinacy, as sometimes it did, conquered the fear and faintness and horror. Kathi picked up her cup, walked to the flask, which was beside Nicholas, and poured and drank off more wine. Then she said, ‘I’ve changed my mind. I’ll wait till the Prioress comes.’ Then she sat down, still beside Nicholas.
Nicholas said, ‘She isn’t coming.’ His eyes were on the desk. There was nothing to see. Julius was still standing beside it.
Kathi regarded Julius. ‘You said the Prioress was coming.’
‘She must have been held up,’ Julius said. He looked at Nicholas. ‘She hasn’t been well. She ought to be with the nuns.’
‘I didn’t know she hadn’t been well,’ Kathi said. ‘I think she’s wonderful for her age. Mick Crackbene thinks the same. Did I tell you about all the papers they found, from Eccles and Coldingham?’
‘Come on, you’re drunk,’ Nicholas said. After the first second, it was just like his usual voice. She wasn’t drunk, and he knew it.
Julius said, ‘Wait a moment. Tell me more. Juicy scandal?’ He wasn’t nearly such a good actor.
‘You’d need to ask Mick or the Prioress. I don’t remember the details. It was all in the papers. Julius? Is my kerchief over there?’
‘Where are the papers?’ Julius said. ‘Your kerchief? No.’
‘I left it somewhere,’ Kathi said. ‘Try the top drawer.’
She looked up as she said it. Nicholas was standing quite still. Then he looked down and met her eyes.
Julius said, ‘The drawer’s empty. Look, take mine. So where are these papers?’
Beside her, Nicholas let out a long, slow breath. Kathi said, ‘No, it’s all right: My kerchief’s here after all. The papers? Goodness, they burned them. Far too juicy, as you said.