To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [145]
‘I took a lot of trouble to get him,’ Nicholas said. He sat down.
‘I heard,’ she said. ‘Show me your hand.’
It puzzled him for a moment; then he remembered Dr Andreas. He held out his right hand, thumb and forefinger uppermost, his eyebrows raised. There was nothing to see. He had watched Gelis glance at it also. ‘They told me you were divining,’ Bel said.
‘It was easy this time,’ he said. And keeping his eyes on her face: ‘Of course I want him. I want him to live with his parents. I brought Gelis back.’
‘Henry lived with his parents,’ Bel said. ‘And none could be prouder than Simon. So what spoiled Henry, and how will Jordan be different?’
He could display, when he liked, a masterly lack of involvement. ‘Jordan is different. Ask Gelis.’
Bel folded her arms, not an easy convolution and therefore all the more positive. She said, ‘Well, well. Was that what ye wanted to know? I havena spoken to Gelis since ye brought her to Scotland. I didna see her in Bruges: she’d left for the Holy Land with Anselm Adorne. I wasna in Venice. I spent time with her here, when she served the lady Mary afore you and she married. And I remember the pair of ye before that: never a kind word between ye in Africa, and never a sheet between you – or time for speech – when ye came back.’ She paused. ‘They say that lust burns itself out.’
‘You remember a lot,’ Nicholas said. ‘Do you remember that she slept with Simon, and tried to pass off Jordan as his?’
‘But you’ve forgiven her,’ the old woman said. ‘As you told me, you went and brought the lass back. Jordan is to grow up different from Henry, oh aye. Gelis has changed, oh aye aye. So have you, wha could deny it? That’s why wee Robin was sent me: Here’s a nice, fresh little lad who admires the new Nicol de Fleury. The de’il kens what harm you’ll dae him. And now Mistress Clémence de Coulanges is brought: Here’s an upstanding, principled woman who would only work for an upstanding, principled man. For shame! Ye’d mak God himself gnap on his thumbnail.’
‘What do you want?’ Nicholas said.
‘I thought I had it,’ she said. ‘I saw your Play.’
He did not immediately answer. ‘But?’ he said eventually.
She never avoided his eyes. Hers were round and clear; insignificant in colour; set on either side of a turnip of nose, in a shapeless face blanketed by a creamy, powdery skin with no lustre. From the paleness of her brows, she had once been fair.
She said, ‘I have no need to tell you. I hoped you’d leave Scotland.’
‘So that the vicomte and Simon may come back without risk?’
‘Without risk to whom? They willna keep off for ever,’ she said. ‘Take Gelis with you. Take Jordan.’
‘And abandon Beltrees?’ he said. ‘After all the gold you have squandered there on my behalf? I forgot to thank you for that.’
She didn’t answer. He said, ‘You know, I take it, who brought Jordan to me in Venice. Katelijne knows too.’
‘You were meant to stay clear of Scotland,’ she said. Her voice, which could grate, was low and curt.
‘I don’t always do what others want,’ Nicholas said. ‘It must be my upbringing. How sad. At least I shall spend the summers away. I have to be in Artois by June. But I am afraid I shall be back. And Gelis. And Jordan. Do you think they will approve of my Beltrees? Or your Beltrees, ought I to say?’
She thought, turning over his answer. Then she said, ‘You havena taken them there?’
‘I haven’t had time. But Oliver Semple has to go back in February. He could take them. And if you were at home, you could explain all its extravagant pleasures.’
‘You’re speiring at me to spend time with Gelis? Why?’
‘With Gelis and Jordan,’ he said.
‘Why?’ she repeated.
‘For Godscalc,’ he said.
She unfolded her arms. After a moment she got to her feet with deliberation and set the door open, after which she came back. He had risen. She said, ‘Gin ye were a wean, I wad strike ye for that. Nicholas, Nicholas … what path are ye set on? What would Godscalc feel but heartsick if he saw you? Is this all his agonising was worth? Or your own?’
He returned her gaze. His face, he knew, contained