The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [150]
The explanation in due course emerged. Unrest in the north of England promised to escalate into a far stronger movement against the King, Edward of York. If civil war broke out again, his Lancastrian rivals might be restored to power. And the Knights, having their headquarters in England, would have less to concern them than most, for they had always regarded Henry of Lancaster as their King.
From past experience, and from, you might add, intelligence gathered even from the sickbed just referred to, Nicholas de Fleury knew a fair amount about the Knights of St John, and those who adhered to them, and their property. So, of course, did Anselm Adorne. The very delicacy of the relationship between himself and the family Adorne gave M. de Fleury pleasure. But for the obvious disadvantages, he would have preferred it if Anselm Adorne had been here, not his nephew.
The interview with the Knights occurred five days before the State Arrival at Leith. Two days later, a hooded woman, alone, without escort, called at the Canongate residence of the seigneur de Fleury of the Banco di Niccolò.
The long, warm evenings were light; the lantern hung at the pend was hardly as bright, yet, as the last of the sunset over the castle. His porter, however, was discreet and so was Govaerts his steward, carrying the news to the padrone in his office. Govaerts said, ‘I imagine this is the lady that you were expecting.’
Julius would have made a joke. Nicholas said, ‘Where is Master Gregorio?’
‘I believe, in the Burgh,’ said Govaerts. ‘The Prioress invited him, after the music. He has a lantern-boy with him.’
So, in other words, someone would know when he was coming. Nicholas said, ‘Then she should come to my room. But no one else.’
Govaerts said, ‘You are out, padrone? Or engaged?’
‘Whatever you usually say,’ Nicholas said. ‘And in the manner in which you usually say it.’
After that, it would have been ironic if the lady had actually come to improve his wellbeing; but she had not. Indeed she flinched from his touch, even though the folds of her cloak must have been stifling; and he had to draw out a stool, speaking calmly, before she would sit, and then let the mantle fall back from her shoulders.
Her face was, as ever, irredeemably plain, and dogged, and youthful. She said, ‘I require you to help me.’
‘Whatever your grace wishes,’ he said.
Later, alone in the office again, he heard Gregorio climbing the stairs. His step was a fraction uneven. Nicholas set aside his pen and sat back and deployed his dimples, all to himself, in self-parody. The truth was that if Gregorio didn’t come in, he’d go and fetch him. Or something with which to replace him.
Gregorio opened the door. It had been a good evening, that was apparent. For once, he had left off the black robe of his profession, and wore a braided brown doublet with a wide-brimmed hat which was almost flamboyant. His nose, thin as a tail-fluke, was flushed. He said, ‘I hear you’ve had company.’
‘She’s gone,’ Nicholas said. He knew Goro’s views on philandering. He added, ‘So how was the music?’
Gregorio slumped in the chair with the back. ‘It might just be ready in time. I don’t know why you don’t come. Will Roger says you’re a mean bastard who won’t do anything unless he gets paid for it. Listen, Dame Betha and Phemie were there. I’ve found out the exact terms of the Queen’s dowry.’
‘Tell me,’ said Nicholas, with surprise.
‘So you know,’ Gregorio said. ‘Am I as drunk as all that?’
‘Mellow. No, I don’t mind confirmation,’ said Nicholas. ‘The Queen gets Linlithgow Palace and Doune and a third of James’s income. James receives in redeemable pawn the Norwegian Crown’s land, rights and revenues in the islands of Orkney and Shetland, thus putting out the eye of William Sinclair, who gives up the earldom, but keeps whatever private lands his family have managed to lay hands on. And in addition, William is to receive Mary of Guelders’ castle in Fife. The one beside Dysart.’
‘While young Albany has to receive the Earl’s daughter. That’s about