Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [166]
“He didn’t want to,” said Felix. “But he’d bought a fur hat without telling his father, and couldn’t pay for it.”
“Poor John Bonkle,” said Claes. “How did he break it to Mabelie?”
Felix’s face was losing its grin. He said, “How should I know? Told her it was the last time, and she was to report to me in future, I suppose. She’s to be ready when I come back from Louvain. Tonight.” His face began to brighten again as he thought of it. He grinned again, appealingly. “Cheaper than last night, yes?”
Claes didn’t move. “What about Grielkine?” he said.
The smile vanished again. “Well, what about her?” said Felix. “Where’s the law that says you can’t have a different girl every night if you want one? Wherever it is, you’ve never paid any attention to it.”
“Tell me,” said Claes. “What will you do if Mabelie doesn’t come?”
Felix stared at him angrily. “Of course she’ll come.”
“From John Bonkle to you. Just like that. Knowing that money has been paid for her. If she does come, what does that make her?”
“I’m going,” said Felix, and dug in his spurs.
Claes shot out his arm and seized his bridle. Then he transferred all the reins to one hand. Felix’s horse jerked and stamped. Felix lifted his whip and Claes chopped his free hand on his whip-wrist. Felix gave a cry and dropped the whip, his fingers hanging limp. “You bastard!” he cried. “You’ve ruined my hand. I won’t be able to …”
“It will be as good as it was in ten minutes. When we’ve finished this conversation,” Claes said. “If Mabelie doesn’t come to you tonight, what do you do?”
Felix was blanched with fury. His breath seething between his shut lips, he glared at Claes. Then he said, “I have bought her. If she doesn’t come, I go and fetch her.”
“From Adorne’s house,” said Claes.
Felix gave a nasty grin. “Not necessarily. She has to go out sometimes.”
“Then you abduct her bodily, take her somewhere quiet, and force her. And repeat the performance every time you want her? Or do you think she’ll give in after the first time?”
“Very likely,” said Felix. The nasty grin, which was not natural, was being kept in place by his fury.
“Until someone else wants to buy her, and you sell her to him?”
“You make it sound … what’s it got to do with you anyway?” said Felix, shouting.
“I make it sound like slave-buying, because that’s what it is,” said Claes. “You’re treating Mabelie as if she were Loppe. Worse. I don’t think anyone violated Loppe against his will. You are head of one of the best merchanting companies in Bruges, or you soon will be. And you are buying and selling a young girl like merchandise. Even the noble Simon didn’t do that. He took her virginity, maybe, but she went with him for love. Do you think she came to me for money? Or John Bonkle? Of course she ought to be married. Of course she shouldn’t move from one lover to the next, any more than – yes – I’ve had different girls on different nights. But at least there’s no deception about it. We’re not promising marriage or livelong devotion to anyone. We’re doing it, girls and men, for love only. But this! After what you have done, whether Mabelie comes to you tonight or not, she ranks as a bought whore.”
There was a silence. Claes sat, breathing quickly, listening to the echoes of his own voice and thinking what a fool he had been. He had given Felix no exit, no compromise, no way to save his face. He knew very well, even if Felix didn’t, what had launched him into it.
Felix said, “Very well. Buy her from me. And not with a note on the Medici bank either. In cash. By tonight.”
There was another silence. Then, “As you say,” said Claes quietly. “In which case you’ll forgive me if I hurry. There’s a lot to be done.”
He dropped Felix’s reins and took his own and moved his horse away. He set it at the road and urged it into a trot and then a canter. He saw, as he went by the trees, the grooms standing staring, and then turning to gaze back at Felix. But Felix, as he expected, did not