Scales of Gold - Dorothy Dunnett [68]
‘So I’m told,’ Nicholas said. He lost his inclination to laugh.
She said, ‘Aye. That’s you, then. Now listen. My wee lady doesna want to go to Madoora: she’s feared. But she’s just as feared the boy will escape her again. She’s not the one to stand up to bullying, Mistress Lucia. She’s seen ower muckle.’
She paused. He didn’t say anything. She went on, her voice dry. ‘There’s no doubt, my fine Master Niccolò, that she will lose her grip of the business if someone doesna go out to Madoora and fight for it. The boy’s willing. He’s better than naebody.’
‘He’s a good deal better than that,’ Nicholas said.
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said the woman. ‘His mother – you’ll allow – is inordinate light in her humours, poor lass, and not sortable.’
Nicholas said, ‘He would be on my ship for three days. Presumably you have a good factor at Funchal? Or does he practise sodomy too?’
‘Oh, aye, you’re a clever hoor,’ said Bel of Cuthilgurdy, ‘and would lay that tongue of yours against anybody. But there’s never been cause to complain about Jaime, and the lad will be safe in his hands. Forbye, the girl will go, and me with her.’
‘The girl?’ But of course he remembered.
‘Gelis. Sister to Simon’s sorry young wife. The boy says ye tended the lass Katelina in Cyprus.’
‘Her sister doesn’t think so,’ said Nicholas.
‘Then the two of us, I take it, won’t be let go. And Diniz can’t go. And hence the company falls into your pooch? Supple tricks, Master Niccolò.’ Her consonants could have cut tin.
Gregorio opened the door, said, ‘Oh. Forgive me,’ and closed it. The hour-glass was empty. Nicholas stretched out his hand and reversed it. The drawings he had disputed so violently had rolled themselves up. They weren’t so bad: with one major change, they would give him the adjustable, the portable boats which were going to make all the difference. He had meant to ride to Sagres today, but it was getting late now to go visiting. He said, ‘Does Simon pay you? Or Jordan?’
She must be between forty and fifty. Her features were floury and blunt as a pastryskin over a pudding. She said, ‘Seek your excuse somewhere else. Mistress Lucia pays me, when I’m paid. My gash is my own.’
Nicholas rose, looking at her. He went to the door and, opening it, called. Father Godscalc came in.
‘This,’ Nicholas said, ‘is Mistress Bel, companion to the lady mother of Diniz. She says Diniz may sail with us to Madeira, provided she and Gelis van Borselen come also. Otherwise, since his mother can’t go, he can’t either.’
Godscalc looked from him to the woman. ‘You’re the priest?’ she said. ‘Gelis said ye were nimble.’
‘Demoiselle,’ Godscalc said. He stood, looming darkly and thoughtfully over her. He said, ‘You would leave your bereaved mistress here?’
‘That’s the idea,’ said Bel of Cuthilgurdy. ‘When the King goes abroad, the sleekit jackmen are made to go with him.’
‘Gelis van Borselen?’ Godscalc said.
‘I think,’ Nicholas said, ‘she means the delectable David. He said he was going to Madeira.’
‘He’s gone,’ said the woman. ‘If it’s the bonny wee broker ye mean. Got a berth on a Portuguese ship for Porto Santo as soon as your own ship went off. He can cross to Funchal easy from there.’
‘Without first making his offer?’ said Nicholas. ‘Or was it turned down?’
She sat, her hands folded in front of her, smiling. ‘Let’s say he has other competitors.’
‘On the island? Another firm? Who?’ Nicholas said.
So far as he could read her look, it was pitying. ‘Now, what would an auld carline ken? To find out the rights of that, ye’d need to go to Madoora.’
‘Madeira,’ Godscalc said, and Nicholas let him. She knew what she was saying. She knew what she had come to demand of him. And he knew, and she knew, that she was going to get it.
Chapter 11
‘YOU’RE NOT PLEASED,’ Godscalc said, at the hurried supper they took, the four of them, after she’d gone. ‘You should be. Diniz will protect you against Simon.’
‘The ladies won’t,’ Nicholas said. ‘You think Simon is going to be on Madeira?’
‘They said he might be,’ Gregorio said. ‘He can’t safeguard his business