The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [144]
His eyes were wet, hugging her. It had been a long time since she left Bruges for Scotland, and the news he had had of her from Julius was odd: once closer than most, she had seen almost nothing of Nicholas. And the occasions on which she had seen him were disastrous – the first, the stabbing by Henry, and the second, the drowning of Lucia. She had seemed, Julius said, to hold Nicholas responsible for everything, including the weather. Julius did not take old ladies seriously.
Now Gregorio set her down and sat down himself. There was a brazier, lit presumably by Semple’s orders. Nicholas felt the cold. Bel said, as if he had spoken, ‘Let Nicholas be. I ken why he sent you. I want to hear your news. Where is Margot?’
‘With the child,’ he said. ‘You know of the child?’
He was speaking quickly. At the same time, he remembered something that ought to come first. He said, ‘At least – you know the bad news, as well?’
She looked down. She said, ‘No.’ It was all she said.
He looked at her anxiously. ‘Mistress Bel? I’m so sorry. About Tilde.’
Her chin lifted. ‘Ah, Goro, I’m a stupid auld callant. Yes, I kent. Aye, I’m famished with sorrow. They’re young, they’ll have bairns in plenty. But the lassie would grieve.’
‘We all did. It needn’t have happened. It needn’t have happened but for that vicious old –’ He couldn’t speak Jordan’s name.
She said, ‘I can guess. Lucia might hae given him the benefit o’ the doubt, and so will I. But the good news is that Gelis is delivered?’
‘Of a son she has called Jordan de Fleury.’
She was silent. Then she said, ‘So tell me, and fast.’
‘Nicholas hasn’t seen him,’ Gregorio said. ‘You understand, the child came early. The news was delayed. There was a birth-feast for him later, of course, and Gelis should be back in Bruges now. Bel, speak to him. No one can.’
‘About what?’ she said. And as he didn’t reply, ‘No. All right. She is withholding the bairn. All is not well with the marriage. He is here, instead of in Bruges. Is that why he is here?’
Gregorio said, ‘I don’t know. No, it has something to do also with Simon. It must. But Simon isn’t here; Nicholas surely can let his schemes go. He has to stop the vendetta with Simon and go back. He has to go back for his own sake. And hers.’
‘And the bairn’s, wouldn’t ye say? She’s named him Jordan de Fleury. Why?’ Her eyes were directly on his.
‘To cause the deepest hurt,’ Gregorio said.
‘The which that would do. Aye. And if ye all ken so much, Master Gregorio, whyfor are his friends not urging the man to go back themselves? What can I do, unless I hear the hale story?’
‘He won’t listen to me. No one else knows what has happened but Margot. And I’ve given my word not to tell.’
‘Then Nicholas is a lucky man,’ she said. ‘And she’s a lucky woman, your Margot, whatever you may think o’ it all. The differ being that Margot deserves it.’
He looked up. She had never removed her eyes from his face. He said, ‘Umar is luckier than he is.’ Then he heard footsteps on the stairs, and she dragged her eyes away as Nicholas de Fleury and Semple came in.
The factor went to pour wine. Nicholas put down the papers he was carrying and stood still, like a crossbowman judging his target. Bel of Cuthilgurdy said, ‘You’ll have come for your rent?’
The factor wheeled, flask in hand. Nicholas said, ‘I didn’t know, when I bought Lucia’s land, that you had a house on it. I understood you stayed with her here.’
‘Times I did. Times she wanted company. She had a furnished bedchamber, too, at the castle. You’ll find a good mattress there, and some taffety skirts and a mutch cap and some preens and an Inglis brown gown in a kist, if you think that they’ll suit