The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [203]
‘You’re an amazing woman,’ he said. The lines left his brow and he shifted the hand at his chin so that one finger lay along the line of his lips. He spoke through it. ‘Of course, he wants you.’
‘He is in the Tyrol,’ she said. Her breathing calmed. She rang the bell at her side and ordered spiced wine of the kind that he liked. He was smiling. It had all happened so quickly that she was still wearing her riding boots and short gown. Servants came and went.
‘What is he doing in the Tyrol?’ Simon said.
She shrugged. ‘Promising Captain Astorre and his army to Sigismond. Unless the Duke gave him different orders. He went to Brussels before he went south.’
‘Really?’ said Simon. He recovered. ‘I’m told the Burgundian commissioners are the most hated men in Alsace. The cantons are becoming alarmed. Was Nicholas the right man to send?’ His expression now was amused.
‘It’s a rough country. It should suit him,’ she said. ‘And, of course, there is the silver. He has taken John le Grant with him, and another man. If Sigismond becomes rich, he can seize back all his Swiss land.’
‘I heard a rumour,’ Simon said. He had begun sipping his wine.
Gelis smiled. ‘Bruges is full of rumours. You know, because of Nicholas, that the Adornes have to lodge Thomas Boyd, the Scots traitor?’
‘Because of Nicholas?’
‘He helped Boyd escape. And the Princess Mary, his wife. So Adorne’s wife insists. She is a little resentful,’ said Gelis. ‘A change of ruler in England may help. Are you sorry for Anselm Adorne? He is Genoese and invests in Genoese projects. Perhaps in the Vatachino, for example.’
He said, ‘Is that what Nicholas thinks? He could be right. Adorne put money into the Vatachino’s African venture. He could be the broker behind them. The only names I hear, and I hear them too often, are de Salmeton and Martin.’
‘There is a third man,’ Gelis said. ‘The Bank have been competing for contracts against a man called Egidius. From what I know of Nicholas, he probably has him identified by now; and Adorne’s interest as well. Nicholas has very good spies.’
‘I shouldn’t mind knowing what he finds out,’ Simon said.
She put down her wine. ‘I doubt if he would tell you,’ she said. ‘Of course …’
‘It would help me,’ he said. ‘It would help Jordan. The Vatachino are wrecking our Portuguese trade.’ He had carried his wine to his lap and settled it there. The light glimmered over the long, undulating line of his limbs, down to the lazy, crossed heels. He looked up. His lashes were gold. He said, ‘I know we are rivals in trade, but the Bank would hardly suffer – and if it did, would you really mind?’
‘Where would I reach you?’ she said.
His fingers moved on the cup, and then began slowly to stroke it. He said, ‘I am going to Scotland, since Nicholas obligingly has left it. You might change your mind and come back. He has two reasonable houses at least, if the women have left.’
‘The women?’ She was meant to ask.
He gave the wine-cup two admonitory taps. ‘Oh, Gelis, you know what you married! All sorts, all ages, in public, in private. Not so many men, since the negro. But Adorne’s niece was a child. Even the Cuthilgurdy woman sickened of that, I was told.’ His voice was deprecating, but not loud. He shifted a little.
Gelis said, ‘Adorne’s niece? Katelijne Sersanders?’ Wolfaert had mentioned her. She must have been fourteen when she went to Scotland. Just sixteen, by now. She found her eyes were on St Pol’s hand, smoothing round and round the sunken, silver ellipse of the cup.
‘In his sickroom, naked,’ said Simon. His fingers stirred, but her eyes had stopped following. Not so many men, since the negro. One forgot that Simon treated candour, too, as a mistress.
One forgot, too, how noiselessly he could move if he cared. She became aware of his scent, very close. Her hand was gently taken and his wine-cup folded into it; in a soft movement the goblet was laid against her own cheek and held there. It was heavily warm, and an inch from her lips. She felt him stretch,