Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [185]
He said, “I’ve asked that Felix, when he comes, should be asked to see me, not his mother. Would you allow me this?” Yesterday she would have refused. Today, she knew already that she couldn’t deal with Felix. Heavens above, she couldn’t deal with Tilde. She nodded.
Nicholas said, “I think Tilde is better left alone today. Catherine, would you mind sleeping tonight with your mother? You see, Tilde is angry, and might say things she doesn’t mean. But it won’t last.”
Catherine looked at him. She said, “I don’t know. I hoped you would marry me, but I think Tilde really thought she would marry you herself one of these days and have babies. That’s why she was so cross about Mabelie. She was always looking to see if Mabelie was getting fat and having a baby.”
Nicholas grinned again. “Well, if she is, it’s John Bonkle’s,” he said. “I don’t plan to have any babies, I can tell you. You and Tilde will be enough.”
“And Felix,” said Catherine.
“And Felix,” said Nicholas, looking at her mother over her head.
Because very soon after that the news, as a small and delectable scandal, began spreading throughout Bruges, and because, too, as someone said of him, there was the making of a man in Felix, he came back to his house alone that afternoon, and walked through the yard and into his house. There, Meester Gregorio, who had been watching for him, stepped in his way.
“Young master.”
The title surprised him. Then he realised that what had taken place with such secrecy was probably unknown even here. He waited neutrally to hear what the man had to say, his hat dragged off in his hand. Sersanders had lent him his cloak, to cover the ruined doublet and the rest. Anselm had been good, even though his uncle had been one of the traitors. All his friends, when it came to it, had been good, in the end. Any one of them would have put him up for the night. But there was still the morning to face. And their parents’ faces.
Gregorio, who had looked like a man with a message, had apparently changed his mind. He hesitated. Then he said, “Forgive me, jonkheere. I think you have heard some news.”
Felix’s back stiffened. He said, “I see you know of it.”
The man’s angular face didn’t soften. He said, “Merely because I was required to draw up the contract safeguarding your interests. It was your mother’s hope that she would find you here when she came back. As it is, she asks me if you will see her after you’ve seen Nicholas.” He paused. “She’s had a hard and difficult day.”
“Claes,” said Felix.
Gregorio said, “I’m sure he doesn’t mind which name you use. I was to say that he would come to your room if you send for him.”
Send for him. Claes, with his back exposed, waiting patiently for his punishment. Claes, the submissive, who never minded when his schemes failed, or his devices were broken by other people. Until this time, when he would be made to mind in such a way that he would never forget it till the end of his life. Felix began to speak, and then remembered that, to this man, Claes was his mother’s husband. He said, “Kindly ask Nicholas to come to my room in ten minutes. I wish to change. And then I shall call on my mother.” The man nodded and left.
Tilde was in his room when he got there, asleep on his bed with her face swollen with crying. He had the job of wakening her, and then holding her, stroking her hair while she tried to talk, weeping all over again. She was still there when they both heard the tap on the door to tell them that Claes had arrived. Holding his sister, Felix said, “You’re too early. Go to whatever room you are using.”
Tilde, her sobs cut off by the shock, looked at him. He said, “It’s going to be all right. I’ll put it right. Wipe your face and go to your room. Is Catherine there?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Nicholas said she was to stay with Mother tonight. She’s having supper downstairs.”
“Then go, Tilde,” said Felix. “I’ll come to you.”
After she had gone he changed, a little clumsily, into a clean shirt and a clean pair