The Unicorn Hunt - Dorothy Dunnett [350]
Adorne rose. He had flushed. He said, ‘Thank you for pointing it out. You will forgive Katelijne for not having thanked you herself. She is here, but I thought it best to keep her with me and with Jan.’
‘I am sure you are wise,’ Nicholas said. ‘Those who know only spiritual pleasures must make, in the end, the best guardians.’
Later, Fiorenza of Naxos danced with him. ‘You have been avoiding your hostess!’
The long file weaved round the salon. She held her gown with one hand and the fingertips of the other rested in his. She moved them into his palm. Her mask was made like a bird, with wings and feathers and jewels, and her sleeves were so thickly embroidered that they bruised his arm when they swung. At the moment, everything bruised him.
He said, ‘I thought you might not wish to speak to me, now that King James has become so undecided. The Despot’s daughter is charming, I hear, and quite slim, and Cardinal Bessarion is, of course, rearing her. But in the long run, the daughter of King Ferrante might be more useful.’
She dropped his hand, her face turning up. Then, glancing over her shoulder, she took it again and resumed her swaying progress, wheeling, curtseying. Coming back to him again she said, ‘Your sense of humour is unique. I hear King James offered you some of the best estates on the island. Marco was delighted. You will be our neighbour again.’
‘Here, perhaps. Not, I fear, in Cyprus. I refused them,’ he said. She had, of course, known.
‘Niccolino!’ She breathed it.
‘Well, Zacco is going to marry,’ said Nicholas. ‘That is, I suppose he is going to consummate something, some time. And Marco doesn’t really want me making more money than he does. I think you should be quite pleased if I stay out of Cyprus and co-operate somewhere else for a change. I really do co-operate quite well, when I feel like it. Is that the end of the dance?’
She appeared to think it was. He decided he would give himself another hour, provided he could find Cavalli, or Cavalli could find him. Antonio Cavalli, most favoured envoy, servant and adviser of Duke Sigismond of the Tyrol, had become a frequent visitor at the Casa. The occasion was business, of course: part of it to do with the mining the Bank was financing, and part with Duke Sigismond’s most recent explosions of energy, none of them likely to gladden his neighbour of Burgundy.
‘What do you think will happen?’ Nicholas had said.
‘In Burgundy? Oh,’ had said Antonio Cavalli, ‘I believe the Duke will frighten off France and then set himself, God bless and preserve him, to work for his crown. He aims to end his life as a King or an Emperor, and he may well succeed. Nor do I see how my lord Sigismond could hold out against him. You may be able to mine your silver in peace, if you have patience.’
Such conversations were useful, and so were the other exchanges one might have on occasions otherwise useless, such as tonight. Nicholas saw Cavalli presently, and indeed they left together, since Julius had kindly left him the elaborate boat with curtains and tassels which the Bank used for its social occasions. Cavalli was glad to be offered a seat.
Now the mist was quite thick. Other boats slipped like shadows among the dim lights, and the sound of music and laughter was pierced by the cries of boatmen like distant birdcalls from every canal. The air was dank, even melancholy after the warmth of the salon, and when they slid between the poles outside the Palazzo Cavalli. Nicholas experienced some reluctance to see his passenger leave. He was not invited in. An elderly friend of the Duchess Eleanor resided with them and kept early hours, said Cavalli, excusing himself.
It was understandable. Company had only seemed inviting, for a moment, because now that the calculations were done, there were spaces left in his mind; mooring poles where anything could slip in and find itself lodged. Nicholas waved a smiling good night and had himself taken back to the