The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [21]
There had been no relationship at all in the water: that was what she had found so agreeable. She said, ‘Maybe. It was strenuous. You know. You feel, stopping, you could strangle a lion. He is restless.’
‘He was born restless,’ said her brother. ‘He doesn’t need any more stirring-up, and neither do you. Come on. We’re promised hot malmsey and ginger, spices by courtesy of Nicholas. Aren’t you cold?’
‘I’m hungry,’ she said. ‘Race you back to the house on your hands?’
Then she said, ‘Listen.’
‘It’s only the young gentlefolk,’ said their host, Master Lamb, coming up. ‘Whistle Willie – Master Roger, that is, and Master Jamie and the trumpet, that’s Albany’s pursuivant. You’ll hear them later, gin my lord Duke has his way. Ye ken my young lord Alexander has elected to sup with us, of his own free motive will, sic an honour? You won’t mislike an entertainment of seemly-like music?’
‘It depends,’ said Katelijne.
‘A purist,’ said her uncle, on her other side. ‘But at least, my dear, you have, I think, decided not to go straight back to Flanders?’
Chapter 3
THE QUESTION WAS asked that night at Master Lamb’s table: the question about Gelis van Borselen which, this time, would have to be answered. And it was Anselm Adorne once more who asked it, but this time directly of the girl’s husband.
‘So where, you fortunate man, is your charming wife Gelis?’ asked Anselm Adorne, seating himself two places from Nicholas at Master Lamb’s table shortly afterwards. Behind them, Albany’s trumpeter let off a blast, and Julius, in the middle, began cheerfully to cut up his meat.
Julius, who had supervised (he felt) the upbringing of Nicholas, always enjoyed overhearing personal questions and especially this one, because of the slight variations in the answers Nicholas gave.
Nicholas was, naturally, wearing black. They were all freshly dressed – Adorne and his party from their sea-coffers, the Duke of Albany and his officers from the wardrobe at the King’s Wark and Nicholas and himself from the clothes they kept over the river, where Nicholas had leased some convenient rooms in North Leith.
Since his departure from Bruges, Nicholas had elected to dress only in black, the most expensive dye in the world. And not only himself, but his page, his groom, his cook and his menservants had been put into black livery, and the select company of his men at arms wore black hats and black sleeves. Jannekin Bonkle, related to half the merchant colony of Bruges and Edinburgh, had organised it. It was, in its way, a gesture of unutterable flamboyance. Julius loved it.
Julius, of course, loved all that had happened since they left Bruges for Scotland. His wealth, the reputation of the Bank, and the respected name of the van Borselen family had ensured an honourable welcome from the young King’s advisers for Gelis van Borselen’s husband. In return, Nicholas had not sought unreasonable privileges, and had not gone out of his way to court the child King or his brother. If Albany (sitting beyond Nicholas now) was seeking his company more and more, it was not Nicholas’s fault. And the absence of a wife had proved no disadvantage.
As to that, Julius had not encouraged Nicholas to make this latest marriage, although the rest of the Bank had approved. Nicholas unshackled was thought to represent a challenge to normal society. Himself, he preferred Nicholas free. The happiest time of any lawyer’s career could not offer more than the years Julius had spent managing the Banco di Niccolò in Venice. Gregorio, who had preceded him, would agree.
When Nicholas, back from Africa, had taken Gelis van Borselen to wife, the union had not been unexpected. She had followed him overseas; she had been compromised; she had powerful relatives. Nevertheless it had been a surprise when, the bridal night over, Gelis had dutifully followed the Duchess of Burgundy, while her husband had attached himself, after an unexplained absence, to the train