Niccolo Rising - Dorothy Dunnett [260]
He didn’t mean to frighten her, and she mustn’t be frightened. She spoke to the workmen and came out, the tablet still in her hands. Gregorio said, “The firm we used to do business with. Thibault and Jaak de Fleury?”
She nodded, mystified. “The Medici settled their bills.”
Gregorio said. “Yes, I remember. And Monsieur Jaak de Fleury is a kinsman of yours?”
“My sister married his brother,” she said. “I thought you knew that. There’s never been any love lost between us. Quite apart from his unpaid bills. So what is it? A message from him?”
“He’s here, demoiselle,” said Gregorio. “I left him in the house because I’m not sure if you should see him. He is not in command of himself.”
“Now that is something new,” said Marian de Charetty. “If ever there was a man in command of the whole world, including himself, it is Jaak de Fleury. What is wrong?”
Gregorio gave a hint of a smile. “I am not, apparently, fit to hear. I’m sorry, demoiselle. I couldn’t get him to tell me. But he has a dozen horses in front of the house, and two carts and a string of servants. Whatever it is, it must be serious.” He paused. “I thought perhaps – if you would allow me to say you were out, he could find a tavern and return alone when he’s calmer.”
She said, “You think he wants to stay here?”
Gregorio said, “I don’t know. But I think he would be better elsewhere. If it can be arranged easily.”
She stared at him, and then made up her mind. “No. I’ll see him. If I don’t want him to stay, I shall tell him so myself. He can hardly force his way in.”
Gregorio said, “Would you like me to stay within call?”
Marian de Charetty ran through her mind all she remembered of her sister’s unpleasant brother-in-law. Physical assault upon grown adults did not feature. Not unless they were servants, which she wasn’t. Mental cruelty was another thing. She had in mind that Nicholas had been brought up in his kitchens. And that, to Jaak’s mind, she had married his scullion. It was not going to be a pretty interview. She didn’t want even Gregorio to hear it.
“No,” she said. “If I can’t manage my own sister’s kinsman, I shan’t know what to do with Astorre and Felix when they come back from the wars. Tell me where you’ve put him and I shall go in. Have no fear. I am known for my speed with a fire iron.” She smiled at him and went in, rather slowly. The door of her small business cabinet was open. Jaak de Fleury was inside, seated in her chair at her table, with all her ledgers open in front of him.
“This is where I will sit,” he said. “And I’ll take the large bedchamber. That one. I told your man in the yard to find a place for my grooms and the others. They won’t complain. They’ve learned not to. So. You’re doing well, I see, my lady. We must see that continues. You know, of course, why I’m here?”
She had never seen him before other than well-dressed and lavishly jewelled. Now, although he bore himself like a prince of the Church, the gown he wore was marked and flattened and dusty with riding, and the plumes of his cap frayed and dirty. His face, too, had sunk about his large eyes and under his rounded cheekbones, and the narrow lips were blistered and dry. He wore rings. But the habitual gemmed chain was missing, and there were no pieces pinned to his gown or his hat. He looked like a man flying from battle.
Marian de Charetty said, “What has happened?”
“You have no idea?” he said. “Ah, me. Women. A different species. When it happens to you, there will be a crying and screaming such as no one has heard, as if no one had ever suffered treachery before in their lives, or envy or spite. What has happened? I have lost my business, dear sister-in-law. The Duke of Savoy has lifted from me – has stolen – a sum of money under some pretext which has left me unable to meet all the demands on me. And my creditors, strangely prescient, have taken the rest, so far as they were able.” Jaak de Fleury, smiling, looked down.