The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [145]
‘Diniz sold me the land,’ Nicholas said.
‘And his Madeira land too?’ Bel said. ‘With his one babe cut off, he’d be easy persuaded. He didna come with you, I see, to visit the grave of his mother and, of course, collect a few rents in the bygoing. It must have been a real trial to you both, rearranging her money.’
The factor stood, a cup in each hand. He said, ‘You’ll excuse me,’ and laid one at her side. His employer took the other and held it out to Gregorio. He said, ‘Thank you, Master Oliver. We’ll join you below. Mistress Bel is upset.’
The door shut on the factor. Nicholas sat down between Bel and Gregorio. He looked at Bel. ‘Whatever the complot, you could have spared Semple,’ he said. ‘He knows well enough where you stand. As a matter of interest, Diniz wouldn’t bring Tilde to live here. And he still owns the quinta.’
‘Whatever the complot?’ Bel repeated.
‘There isn’t one? Then what have you and Gregorio been wasting time talking about?’
‘How to send you back home,’ Gregorio said.
‘For Simon’s sake?’ He rose, smiling, and filled a cup for himself. Gregorio saw it was water, again.
Gregorio said, ‘For everyone’s sake. This is not how you and Bel should be talking.’
‘And how are you going to send me back home?’ the other man said. He was watching Bel.
‘What do you see when you look at me?’ she said. ‘Apart from dule, dule and sorrow? Where is your babe? Where is your courage, that you turn your back and run from a failure? And what is your excuse for being here, if not the death of Simon and Jordan?’
‘Why do you defend Simon and Jordan?’ Nicholas said.
She looked at him. ‘I have defended you in your time. Did you deserve it?’
‘Most certainly not. Well, what would reassure you?’ said Nicholas de Fleury. ‘Gregorio, tell her. I am here in Scotland for profit. To develop some land. To set up some trade. To allow, yes, some marriage difficulties to settle themselves. But I shall be returning to Gelis. I don’t mean to stay here for ever. And whatever ensues, you are secure in your house. After all, I killed Lucia to get it.’
Gregorio rammed down his cup. Bel said, ‘I don’t want the house.’
Gregorio said, ‘Bel, the house is yours without rent for as long as you wish. Do you think he’d put you out, or exploit you?’
‘She has a house at Cuthilgurdy,’ Nicholas said. He cleared his throat. ‘Her son stays there. If I’m right?’
Cuthilgurdy was not far from Stirling. Her livelihood, they all knew, came from there. She had once been married, they knew, but had never mentioned a family. They had never asked.
Bel said, ‘You’ve been busy.’
‘Given our last conversation,’ he said, ‘it seemed advisable. I have no plans for your house. If you want to leave it, that is your affair. Make your arrangements with Master Oliver.’
Her lips parted. Then she said, ‘Aye. I’ll do that. And now I think I will go.’
Gregorio looked from one to the other. He said, ‘Nicholas?’
‘No,’ said Nicholas.
She left. On the threshold she glanced back at Nicholas de Fleury and Gregorio glimpsed, for a second, the look that they exchanged. His breath caught in his throat, for he recognised that he had seen it before: this silent collision of pity and pain. The woman again had been Bel. The youth – the child – had been Simon’s son, Henry.
For all the rest of that journey which was to take them, in the end, to Beltrees, Gregorio was thankful for the presence of Oliver Semple, broad and weathered and slow and emphatic of speech, who rode beside his new foreign employer, and to whom Nicholas de Fleury spoke all the way, evenly, of practical things.
Until they left behind the Little Hall and Kilmirren, Gregorio did not realise how much he had been counting on Bel to reach Nicholas: to stem and dissolve the coating with which, film upon film, he was separating himself from them all. Now he saw that it had already been too late last winter. If Bel had not then shaken his purpose, she was not likely to soften him now.
Deep in thought, Gregorio rode. There was one formal call still to make: passing through Semple land, they must pay their respects