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Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [19]

By Root 1900 0
was childless, and Simon himself was an only son. One day, Kilmirren would be his, and he must therefore marry. She had known as much during her Scottish stay, but then she had been intended for someone else and had neither looked at Simon, nor he at her. During the ship journey south she had been too wretched, too apprehensive to want anyone’s company. Pride had come into it, too. To reject her father’s choice and to appear to hanker instead after the exquisite Simon would be less than dignified. Especially as the exquisite Simon might fail to offer her marriage.

When, in the latter days of the sail she had allowed him to come near her, it was plain that he wished to attract her and, perhaps intrigued by her withdrawal, was to some degree attracted himself. By the time they landed at Sluys, she knew he had made up his mind to try for a conquest.

She did not show that she was flattered. If he offered for her, her father would approve. So, presumably, would Simon’s uncle, and Simon’s estranged father, if he were ever asked. There was money and land and a minor seigneurial title. Of the several young men whose parents had shown an interest in her, he was the most eligible. Outside, that is, the lord she had refused. The lord she had refused had been forty years older, and vicious. Simon the nephew of Kilmirren was physically qualified to endear himself to any girl living. She was not widely travelled, but she at least had never met any man with his looks. Why then did women of all classes (they said) make him free of their beds, but never marry him? Why did he never marry them? Of one thing she was sure. Without marriage, he would never have her. Whether she wanted him with marriage was something she did not yet know.

Katelina van Borselen entered her father’s house thoughtfully, and prepared to receive her father’s guests with composure.

Felix de Charetty and Claes his shadow spent the afternoon lying on the grass by the Waterhuus, with those of their friends who had an excuse to escape work.

Felix had no excuse, having been told quite distinctly by a tight-lipped Julius to get back to the dye-shop and stay there. But Julius had been waylaid by a group of men wishing to talk about rabbits, and Felix had made his escape, dragging Claes with him. Retribution would come when his mother arrived from Lou vain, as she undoubtedly would. He was unconcerned. Felix had little interest in people who worked for a living, although sometimes his friends swore they saw old Cornelis over his shoulder, when he drove a sudden, sharp bargain over a trifle. One of the reasons he liked Claes was that he had no possessions.

The group on the grass were talking a mixture of languages, because they were mostly the young of the trading community. Among them was Anselm Sersanders, Adorne’s nephew, and John Bonkle, the source of the worst of their English vocabulary, and one of the Cants. Also, Lorenzo Strozzi was there, feeling miserable. They did what they could to relieve his misery and, indeed, it became quite a strenuous afternoon. It was almost over when Strozzi happened to mention the gathering taking place in Florence van Borselen’s house, and the fact that he and Tommaso had been invited.

Felix’s hair was uncurled again under the high blocked and brimmed hat he had been made to put on by Julius, and the bag-sleeves of his sober doublet were wet to the elbows, but his energy had not diminished. “Go!” he said. “Lorenzo, you must fetch Tommaso and go!”

“Felix wants to know what Simon is wearing,” said Claes.

“Tommaso won’t go for you and Claes,” said Lorenzo nastily. “You know how he hates the way Claes copies him flashing his rings.”

“It may stop him from flashing his rings,” said Sersanders. “Anyway, Tommaso will go, if van Borselen invites him.”

“Of course,” said Lorenzo. “Tommaso has only been invited because the manager of the Bruges branch of the Medici bank is away on business, and they have to make do with the assistant manager. I have only been invited because the head of the Bruges branch of the Strozzi company is also away,

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