Pawn in Frankincense - Dorothy Dunnett [300]
‘And you?’ said Philippa. ‘With a fifteen-… sixteen-… seventeen-year-old titular wife? What will Sybilla say? It isn’t a practical method of founding a dynasty.’
‘My brother has founded the dynasty.’
Cool and curt. It ended any attempt to discuss his affairs. And yet what less could she do, when offered this prodigious bounty? He had foreseen a difficulty, which was undeniable, although she could not see it as pressing. He had further felt he owed her a duty. He had talked of the benefits to her; he had not spoken of what he might be sacrificing. Was there some woman waiting, at home or in France, who might be mortally hurt by this gesture? What indeed would his mother, Sybilla, say? And what, oh, what, would Kate? … Dear Kate. You will be pleased to learn that my hand in marriage has been sought and received by Mr Crawford, and I am happy to inform you that you are now his …
Philippa said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry. I think it’s a magnificent gesture, but the situation really calls for nothing nearly so drastic. People would think we were crazy.’
He was not smiling now. He said in the same quiet voice, ‘You are afraid?’
‘No,’ said Philippa angrily. ‘My goodness, after all those interminable lectures? I understand what you’re trying to guard against. But I don’t see why, even at the worst, it can’t wait until we get home.’
Lymond was angry too. He said, ‘Oh, God in Heaven,’ furiously, and got up again to prowl to the wall where he stopped, running his hand through his hair. Then he dropped it, and drew a long breath. ‘All right. Let me spell it all out for you. I am doing this now because I almost certainly have no future. If I escape Roxelana, I shall see you all into safety. If the opium lets me down, Jerott and Archie will see you the rest of the way. If it doesn’t let me down, I shall take it until you are all out of danger, and then I shall cease taking it and leave you. What happens then will be interesting, but I am told the chances of a complete cure are not very high. In any case, I have no intention of going back to Scotland, then or at any time in the future. Therefore I ask you to marry me tomorrow. There will be no other chance. It may matter to you. And it matters to me not at all.’
She had asked for it; and she had got it. She stared at him, breathing hard to keep back the tears, and knew suddenly and finally why Marthe had warned her. Philippa said, ‘I shall do it if you give me a promise.’
He said, ‘How kind of you. What is the promise?’
The stability of her chin became a matter of moment. She said hardily, ‘That … even married to me … you do nothing, ever, to arrange your own death.’
There was a little silence. Then he said, ‘Whose idea was that? Jerott’s?’
‘I think,’ said Philippa carefully, ‘it was an inspiration of my own.… If anything would damage my chances of a good second marriage that would.’
This time, there was no pause. Francis Crawford said merely, ‘These things have nothing to do with you. Think again.’
‘I have thought,’ said Philippa stubbornly. ‘No promise, no bride.’
It was not pleasant waiting. Nor, when he spoke, was it better. ‘You bloody little dictator,’ he said. ‘You’re exactly like Kate.’
But he gave her his word.
In the end, all the raki Jerott and Archie brought back was in Jerott and Archie. They were quarrelsome and maudlin by turns, and Lymond turned them into the same room as Gaultier and left them alone, without trying to install either information or planning into their oblivious heads.
By then, Philippa, aching as if she had been beaten, had slipped off her outer robe and climbed into the Venetian bed in her body linen, which was embroidered and not very long, her combed hair tidied back with a ribbon. After a moment she got out again and, pulling off the exquisite quilt, made a sleeping-bag of it on the carpet and wondered whether, as one of the underprivileged young, she should occupy it herself. Then she decided that if she were to have a new status forced upon her, she might