To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [282]
‘So they could put Gelis’s business discreetly before the lord Abbot?’
‘Archibald Crawford? Of course.’
‘All of it?’
‘He likely kens,’ Berecrofts said.
‘And he’s worldly-wise. And he owes us all something for the Nativity Play. Couldn’t he make it clear that, whatever Gelis has done, the Church has exonerated her? And couldn’t he suggest to the Countess of Arran and the King that she resumes her old post with the Princess Mary? She’d be safe, surely, at Haddington,’ the girl said. ‘They all would. Anyone who touched them after that would be really in trouble.’
Mistress Clémence’s admiration increased. She said, ‘May I say I think it an excellent idea. So long as one bears in mind that the behaviour of the family de St Pol cannot always be regarded as rational.’
The clear eyes regarded her, and then beamed. ‘So it ought to be quite interesting when the sieur de Fleury gets back,’ Kathi said.
They escorted her back when she had recovered. They found the household in an uproar: the garden had been discovered to be full of black rats and Jordan had barely been pulled indoors in time.
Within two days, they were all installed in the Cistercian Priory of Haddington.
It amused Simon de St Pol when he heard, returning home rather drunk from what had begun as a royal hunting-party. The whore was scared: good. Perhaps she didn’t know he had land in Dunbar.
He was about to send for his own private agent when Martin of the Vatachino was announced. But for the note he sent in, Simon wouldn’t have seen him. He had lost too many business deals through the sharp practices of the Vatachino, and so had the vicomte his father. They were unpleasant rivals. That they were equally vicious opponents of the Banco di Niccolò was the only point in their favour. It was the name of de Fleury which had leaped at him out of that note.
He did not propose to treat the fellow, however, as other than popolo minuto. He left him standing and asked him his business. When the man took off his cap, the straight red hair was extraordinarily thick and coarse; his face, despite his colouring, had a southern fleshiness, and his build was squat. He spoke French with a hint of Catalan in it.
The man said, ‘They tell me you are doing well, my lord. I came to congratulate you, and suggest how you might do even better.’
‘You are resigning from business?’ said Simon.
‘I could,’ said the other. ‘I have wealth enough. But the firm I represent has made a suggestion. The St Pol and the Vatachino and the Banco di Niccolò comprise three well-established companies, each with a modest share of the market. Would it not be even better if there were only two?’
‘I am listening,’ said Simon.
‘You are gracious. I am not – we are not sufficiently simple to imagine you would concede us the field. You will develop, you will flourish. Were you our only rivals, we should not object. As it is –’
‘I have an appointment,’ said Simon.
‘Forgive me. Of course. I shall be brief. As it is, we should be disposed to embark on a rather more unfriendly policy than heretofore, had an alternative not presented itself. You dislike Nicholas de Fleury.’
‘Who does not?’ Simon said.
‘But especially, you have embarked on a personal campaign against him and his wife and his son?’
‘Indeed?’ Simon said. ‘One wonders how such gossip becomes general.’
‘In which case,’ said the man, ‘would it offend you if I suggested that the Vatachino would be interested in joining you in this project? In lending you all our specialised assistance? Indeed, in performing whatever final acts you may have had in mind?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Simon, ‘you would care to sit down?’
The second week passed, and the third, and Nicholas did not come, while the storms stopped all news from the south. October began.
Reared in a convent, Mistress Clémence had no objection to the Cistercian life of the cloister. The Prioress was a lady of some authority, although the Rule was in many ways lax, as tended to occur in poor countries, where the nearest well-founded buildings had to serve not only as convents but as mints and meeting-halls