The Ringed Castle - Dorothy Dunnett [309]
Men who made their availability known and who perhaps went even further, in the early days, before the Queen took her throne with all King Harry’s courage and pride at the start of her realm: What I am, ye right well know. I am your Queen, to whom at my coronation you promised your allegiance. I cannot tell how naturally the mother loveth a child, for I was never the mother of any, but certainly if a prince and governor may as naturally and earnestly love her subjects as the mother doth love her child, then assure yourselves that I do as earnestly and tenderly love and favour you.…
She had overthrown the rebels and begun her reign on that blaze of splendour and success, and those who had hesitated became, warmly, her men. They did not wish to be reminded, now, of what had gone before.
Then the Earl of Arundel, rallying, said, ‘I do not believe his serene highness the Doge would stoop to confiscate an Englishman’s papers.’
And a Spanish voice; a dry, accented voice which had not spoken in that conclave before said, ‘But it is true.’ And opening the leather box on the floor at his side, Don Juan de Figueroa, representative of his Majesty King Philip drew out a thick bundle of pages tied with tape and placed them on the table beside those other, innocent papers from Vannes’s splintered box.
‘It is true, my lords,’ said the Spaniard; and, lifting his sharp eyes, met Lymond’s unreadable blue stare and then, switching, the brown, owl-like gaze of Philippa Somerville. ‘The Doge is our friend: he was anxious that none of the effects of this important Englishman should fall into unauthorized hands and prove an embarrassment to us. A selection of papers was therefore withdrawn from the casket at Venice, and the box resealed and sent on to Padua. I have the missing papers here. The Venetian Ambassador, of his great generosity, has made them available to King Philip and myself. Do you wish to see them?’
There was another, ragged moment of silence. Then the Earl of Arundel said, speaking as if to a deaf man, ‘We were not made aware of these facts. Are we to take it that King Philip has already perused these documents?’
‘He has,’ said the Spaniard.
‘And,’ said Pembroke, ‘perhaps Don Juan de Figueroa would tell us whether His Majesty considers them a subject for action?’
Gazing, one by one at each of these avaricious, important Englishmen, Don Juan pursed his pale, bearded lips. ‘His most serene Majesty,’ de Figueroa said, ‘is of the opinion that these papers are of no importance, and may well be destroyed without further action. He also recommends that, under the circumstances, the case against these men should be dropped, provided they leave the country immediately, and provided that Mr Crawford agrees that his talents and his destiny will be best fulfilled by a speedy return to his master in Russia. Confronted with a man of such ability, we cannot believe that the Tsar will deal harshly with him.’ And he raised his eyebrows, halting.
There was a short silence. Beside Adam, Guthrie moved sharply and then was still. Tait and Danny were grinning; Ludo looked, thought Adam, aghast. Lady Lennox, who had shut her lips, opened them again and said, ‘And Mr Crawford’s wife?’
The Spaniard turned and looked at Philippa Somerville, who recalled the sophisticated maxims of Don Alfonso Derronda and favoured him with a long, cool and haughty regard.
‘It seems to us,’ said de Figueroa, ‘that Mistress Somerville has not been implicated in anything detrimental to her country, and that it will suffice if she withdraws from the Queen’s Court.’
Philippa inclined her head. Out of the shattered silence along the ranks of the eminent, the Earl of Arundel said, ‘Mr Crawford. You have heard what