To Lie with Lions - Dorothy Dunnett [49]
Clémence de Coulanges clicked her tongue and walked forward. She observed that M. de Fleury was smiling. Then, as if he knew she was near him, he turned, and drew her out where the Lady could see her.
The lady Gelis sprang forward. Her fingers, clutching Clémence by the wrists, were painfully fierce. Then she loosened her grip and stepped back. ‘Mistress Clémence. You are well?’ She was a lady of style, Gelis van Borselen, dame de Fleury.
Clémence said, ‘Madame, I am well and so is your son. Pasque and I have cared for him. He is safe in the Burgundian camp.’ Halfway through, she slackened the rate of her speech, realising that M. de Fleury would not stop her; that this was why she was here.
You could see the Lady thinking so, too, the Nordic blue eyes studying M. de Fleury. He returned her gaze, smiling still. The Lady said, ‘When did you leave camp?’
She spoke to Clémence, who replied as a good servant should. ‘Early this morning, madame. The child was sleeping, well guarded, with Pasque.’
It was the truth; that was all you could say for it. ‘Guarded by whom?’ said Gelis van Borselen. It was a remark, not a question. A remark touched with weary contempt.
‘By my men,’ said M. de Fleury at once. ‘Do you doubt therefore that he is safe? Pleasures, as someone said, are best when deferred.’ He paused. ‘Shall we go in? The sun is up, and food awaits us, and entertainment of one kind or another. In case the conversation should fail.’
He had turned. He looked unsurprised to find Mistress Clémence blocking his way. Mistress Clémence addressed him with firmness. ‘Your lady wife, M. de Fleury, is tired. Once she has rested, we shall be glad of the refreshment you offer.’
‘And the entertainment,’ M. de Fleury said agreeably.
‘This is a palace of springes,’ said Clémence de Coulanges. ‘If your wife does not know, she should be warned of it.’
‘I felt sure,’ said M. de Fleury, ‘that you would deem it your duty to tell her. But she knows. Everyone knows, but not everyone has first-hand experience of them. You have no objection to touring the château, have you, madame?’
He was smiling again. The lady Gelis said, ‘If it would really amuse you. Either you have changed, Nicholas, or you believe that I have. As we walk round, would you like me to scream? Pray? Weep? Call for my mother? I shall do what I can.’
‘I thought you didn’t like your mother,’ he said.
‘Then I shall call for my sister,’ she said. ‘You know how close we both were. Shall we go?’
The refreshment he had spoken of was there, laid out on fine cloths in a parlour. Despite what he had said, M. de Fleury did not join them. His lady wife sat, while Clémence set wine before her, and food which only Clémence ate. The lady said, ‘Does he treat you well, Mistress Clémence? And Pasque?’ Her eyes said, Is this a trap? Can I trust you?
‘It is not a settled life,’ said Mistress Clémence. ‘But he treats us well, and it is suitable enough for the child. You know that we have chosen to stay for the sake of the child.’ She saw the mother relax, as she ought. She, Clémence, had spoken the truth.
‘I pray to God you will continue to stay,’ said Gelis van Borselen. ‘Mistress Clémence, what else will he allow you to tell me? Whatever happens, you must not offend him.’
‘I shall say what I please,’ Clémence said sharply, clearing her mouth. ‘Master Jordan is in no distress; eats well; grows; M. de Fleury has done all that he should, and has told the child you are coming. In my opinion, you should insist on going straight to the camp. There is no call for you to go through this nonsense.’
‘Well, madame?’ said M. de Fleury. She had not heard him return.
The lady Gelis looked up. She said, ‘You have the esteem of your nurse. She believes that I may refuse to do this with impunity. I prefer to pay my price, and be free.’
‘Free?’ he said.
She looked at him. She said, ‘I understand. It is a relative