Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [296]
They had expected it. The Vasquez lawyer had already ratified all the papers for Diniz, and nothing his uncle could do would make any difference. Lucia, however resentful, was capable of weighing up the income offered by a small estate in Madeira and comparing it with the yields of the Charetty company, in association with Nicholas. She was far from aiding her brother.
As for the rest, there was only one way Simon could stop Nicholas marrying. Some of them knew what it was. Simon’s lawyer, understandably, did not. He did what he could, but was amiably blocked from all quarters. To stop Nicholas marrying, Simon would have had to proclaim himself father to Nicholas. And in proceeding to marry, Nicholas in turn had surrendered that claim.
Godscalc was glad Nicholas had done with it; done with the contention even before this situation arose. For of course, there was no chance whatever that Simon would make such a proclamation.
Bel of Cuthilgurdy, who had been silent throughout, afterwards walked into the street with the priest, without holding his arm. Since Tobie came, Godscalc had been made to stop using his crutch, and depend on his limbs. Bel said, ‘I hope Simon can afford the fee for his lawyer. You know he’s hired him to get back the Ghost? What are the chances?’
Since Bel arrived, she had been twice to the Charetty–Niccolò house, and had spent a long time with himself, and with Diniz and Nicholas. She had sat with Tilde, mending a tablecloth.
Godscalc said, ‘They keep postponing the hearing. Now Simon and de Salmeton have come, and won’t agree to a date.’
‘Why should that be?’ she said. She stood, gazing upwards. On the street corner before them, a group of men on a platform were rehearsing the marriage of Alexander the Great and Cleopatra.
‘I don’t know,’ Godscalc said. ‘Nicholas is high in favour just now. They may be waiting for the Duke to leave Bruges. They may be trying to get hold of our witnesses.’
‘Crackbene and Filipe?’ Bel said.
Godscalc looked at her. ‘How did you know?’
‘Filipe came to see me. All happed up in a great hood, poor laddie, but I knew who it was. I havena told anybody. Alexander and Cleopatra,’ said Bel reflectively. ‘Who were their children, again?’
Godscalc looked down on the top of her head. He said, ‘Crackbene seems to have befriended Filipe. Perhaps he was the right sort of man. A seaman, standing no nonsense.’
‘I think so,’ said Bel. ‘I liked what I saw. Although Nicholas had it right, as he usually does. The lad who died had more in him. The lad Lázaro. But this one ran away, and lived to give evidence. Or will, I hope. Ye didna see Simon’s boy Henry? He’s seven now.’
‘No,’ said Godscalc. ‘I heard you took him north.’
‘Part of the way. I come across him now and then, though not if Simon can help it. I was telling Nicholas.’
‘And Lucia thinks he’s an ogre,’ Godscalc said. ‘Or so Gregorio says.’
‘Yes. It’s a pity,’ Bel said. ‘Another Simon in the making. I’ll wager that lot couldn’t rear children either.’
‘What lot?’ Godscalc said.
‘Alexander and Cleopatra,’ Bel said critically. ‘Orgies. Sinister affections of the sensual appetite. Forbye, so far as I can see, they’re both men.’
Once, on a sunlit day in September, Nicholas had been surrounded by friends, and had been one of them.
Now, on this dawning day of Sunday, the third day of July nine years later, he stood among friends but was not one of them; as Gelis stood among friends, and was alone.
It had not been as hard as he expected, these twelve days, to keep apart from Gelis van Borselen. Nicholas supposed that she, too, was taking stock of what had gone. He saw in her a certain stillness he had not been aware of before, as if she were coming to the end of a long journey, and were half afraid.
They were to wed that afternoon. The Duke had married that morning, leaving for Damme in the