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Queen's Play - Dorothy Dunnett [164]

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words, Harisson confessed to the sheriff that Stewart had approached him to act as middleman in a plan to poison Mary of Scotland, and that he, Harisson, had betrayed the plot to the French Ambassador, who knew all. The sheriff told Warwick, who of course knew all about Stewart and the plot, but not that you were aware of it. From that moment the English Council, for the sake of their relations with France, were forced, of course, to sever all their connections with the scheme. In return for God knows what promises, Harisson was instructed by the sheriff to send for Stewart, who was captured this afternoon and bundled off to Ely Place for a complete confession—the poor idiot thought apparently he might still win Warwick’s support and told them again, with some pride, all his qualifications as a hired assassin—and that, according to Warwick of course, was the first direct news he had of the plot …

‘… I can imagine Stewart’s feelings,’ said Lymond, ‘when his lordship, instead of opening his arms, began to shriek for every guard in the Palace. Stewart is in the Tower. Warwick has undertaken to have his confession written out and sent to us, and will send him to you or straight to the French Court for punishment. He will take that up with you himself.’

‘It is for the King to say. I shall write him tonight. And Harisson?’ Raoul asked.

‘Harisson?’ said the man Crawford, and got quietly to his feet, an appalling solecism, with the curious quick lurch he had which covered whatever was wrong with his leg. ‘He and Stewart were brought face to face, for identification, at the sheriff’s house, and Stewart killed him. No one, obviously, rushed nobly upon the blade. So there is no evidence against Warwick, and no evidence but Warwick’s, and O’LiamRoe’s, against Stewart, come to that. You must get Stewart’s confession out of the Council. You can hardly act against him otherwise.’

Adding rudeness to rudeness, her husband had risen too.

‘I shall take Stewart into my own custody. He will confess then.’

There was a fractional pause. Then, ‘I think not,’ said Crawford calmly. ‘My advice to you, on the contrary, is to insist that Warwick keeps Stewart and is wholly responsible for sending him to France. England is desperately anxious to avoid an incident. That is already clear. The surest way of delivering Stewart alive to France is to let Warwick do it. He dare not let him die.’

You would think something ominous had been said. The two men stood facing each other, eye to eye, without saying a word; then Raoul, saying, ‘Nothing would happen to him here,’ suddenly grasped Crawford’s arm and added loudly, ‘Go! Go, go. You wish to go. I should not have kept you.’

Startled, Jehanne got up and looked first at the herald, and then her husband. Lymond, who had not in fact moved, went on as if nothing had occurred. ‘If it did happen, you could not prevent it. You realize why we must have Stewart’s confession: it is a weapon we shall have to use. He has a superior unknown, still living in France. You must make Warwick send him to Calais, and you must extract that written confession with every shred of power you have. They may seem willing, but they won’t want to supply it. From Calais he will have a French guard to take him back to the Loire. I shall concern myself with him there.’

From his face, Jehanne de Chémault guessed, with uncharitable pleasure, that the prospect was anything but convenient. Raoul had thrown open the door. ‘I understand you. We shall speak again in the morning. The urgency in all this, you must remember, is relative.’

Lymond, his weight on his stick, stood facing the door. ‘Je vous remercie,’ was all he said, but she could see Raoul smiling with the undue warmth of relief, and then the herald, recalling his duty at last, turned and made her some sort of apology and withdrew making, as she saw through the half-closed door, straight for his room.

And all very well for that gentleman to burst in halfway through supper, leave Raoul with a deskful of work and then go off to bed; but the sooner he left Durham House, thought

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