The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [3]
It was typical that, in the wild hunt through far lands which followed, the main concern of Crawford of Lymond had been to kill Malett, not necessarily to rescue the child. And typical that, suspecting it, Philippa Somerville had stuck grimly to him, and biding her time, had found the child and brought it back, too.
It was at the first reading that Kate stopped and letting her hand fall, with the letter in it, said in tones of failing belief, ‘But she was in the harem!’
Sybilla said calmly, ‘It doesn’t matter. If she says she was untouched, she was untouched. And no one else need know anything of it.’
‘In Flaw Valleys?’ Kate said. ‘They’ll ask her about the pattern on Suleiman’s nightshirt. And I cannot believe that Francis was not fully capable of extracting his own son without Philippa’s help. She was probably an unqualified nuisance.’
Sybilla turned over one or two pages. ‘Certainly, she has remarkably little to say in his favour.’
Kate said glumly, ‘I don’t suppose they were speaking to one another. All she did was saddle him with two children to look after instead of one. She says he sent her straight home from Volos, and I can’t say I’m surprised.’
‘Well, at least she went,’ said Sybilla comfortably. ‘It says here he sent her straight home from Algiers as well, and she made Archie Abernethy turn back so that she could continue her hunt for the little one. I think we owe a great deal to your Philippa.’
‘Grey hairs,’ Philippa’s mother suggested.
But it was Kate, daily tramping the battlements, who first saw the long line of dust which announced her young daughter’s arrival. By the time Philippa’s cortège arrived, they were all on the steps of Midculter: Kate, Sybilla and Richard, Sybilla’s other older, responsible son, with his wife and young children beside him.
There seemed to be a great many mules. Straining her eyes as they turned in at the gates, Kate studied them vainly for Philippa. In the lead was a small bearded man bearing a bundle, and beside him a stylish person in a cloak and hood trimmed with lynx, at whom Kate cast a wistful glance, since she could not imagine her having much time for her bedraggled Philippa. Then, looking again at the smooth, polished face and the coils of intricately pleated shining brown hair, she saw that it was her bedraggled Philippa. She walked forward, slowly.
Philippa reined in and looked down at her mother. Sitting like the Queen of Sheba, with her face green with fright she said, ‘Did you get my letters from Austin?’
Kate nodded. Clearing her throat, she said, ‘Kevin and Lucy were expecting a nose-veil and curly-toed slippers.’
Her daughter’s youthful brown eyes, losing their starkness, became visibly pink round the edges. ‘They’re in my luggage,’ Philippa said. ‘With my prayer mat. I thought you would show me the door. Perhaps. That is, one shouldn’t think of other people’s babies before one’s own mother. I knew you would stop me.’
‘I can’t think how,’ Kate Somerville said. ‘Gunpowder? It was more than Mr Crawford evidently could do.’
‘There were a few unpleasantnesses,’ Philippa said guardedly. She stared at Kate, trying not to think of Mr Crawford’s unpleasantnesses. Her nose, also, was growing faintly pink.
‘There are times,’ Kate said conversationally, ‘when one wonders where that gentleman’s habits came from. Are you going to come indoors on the horse, or can I help you …?’
At which, giggling, Philippa Somerville slid, with her eyes overflowing, into her mother’s damp and convulsive embrace.
Presently, there was the other meeting, with Lord Culter and his wife on the steps. Presently, too, came her first encounter with Lord Culter’s mother Sybilla. But before that the Dowager, the soul of discretion, had wandered into the courtyard to speak to her old friend Archie Abernethy. ‘We are so glad to see you. David will look after your men. Won’t you give him your horse, and come inside with us? And——’
For the first time, with courtesy, her gaze dropped