Caprice and Rondo (55 page)

‘Doesn’t he deserve it?’ Father Moriz had said. And they had been silent because, of course, the chaplain was right. At the same time, none of them felt free of unease over Gelis, and it was this mood which prevailed on the day they rode out to escort her into Bruges.

The encounter was formal but pleasant enough: the Flemish party was cheered to see Dr Tobie but amazed at the number of soldiers. What were they carrying that needed so much armed protection? Jogging into the city, Dr Tobie was quizzed by the chaplain, and returned a piercing pale stare, at odds with his bland, rosy face. ‘What do you think is most worth protecting, of all that that idiot has left her? The guard is for Jodi.’

The priest, being astonished (
that idiot?
), allowed his eyebrows to rise. The child, he had to admit, had impressed him, trotting flushed and dimpled and fair between his nurse and his beautiful mother. So had the composure of the same mother, subtly increased in authority. Moriz remarked, ‘Because he is the crown prince, do you mean? It seems to Diniz that the Lady is about to supplant him, and possibly Gregorio and Julius as well.’

‘Then tell him that Gregorio doesn’t feel threatened. He didn’t want Gelis to leave. Or don’t tell him. He’ll find out soon enough for himself.’

He was probably right. It was equally possible that Gelis had never been deeply committed to Venice, except as a testing-ground. The business in Bruges, grown from the dyeworks of Marian de Charetty, had been the heart and fount of Nicholas’s empire, indeed of his life. Gelis might well want to own it.

It remained interesting, however, that her first words had not been about Diniz’s health, or that of his wife, or the company. Her first words, immediately echoed by Tobie, had been, ‘Is Katelijne back, and how is she?’

K
ATELIJNE
S
ERSANDERS
, dame of Berecrofts, had been at home for two months, and was instantly told when Gelis arrived, first by her uncle (crisp and disapproving) and secondly by Robin her husband (apprehensive). She accepted the news without comment, sent no messages, and went about her usual business. A week later, Gelis herself was announced. Jodi was with her.

Kathi, treading across her own parlour, came to an abrupt, smiling halt. Then she transferred the smile, broadened, to Gelis. Gelis returned it. ‘This is the lady Katelijne of Berecrofts. Bow to her, Jodi.’

Two solemn grey eyes; a velvet cap with a feather on top of a cushion of furzy brown hair; an absence of dimples. The bow was performed, and the child, straightening, retrieved his mother’s hand at once. His eyes were enormous. He said, ‘Where is the boy you were with?’

‘Oh dear,’ Gelis said. ‘I read out part of your letter. Jodi, it hasn’t come yet.’

‘And it may not be a boy, although I hope that it is, for I have a very nice nurse waiting for him. As nice, perhaps, as Mistress Clémence. She makes gingerbread.’

‘Jodi likes gingerbread,’ Gelis said. ‘I don’t suppose …’

It could not be said that Jordan de Fleury was avid for gingerbread, but the nurse came, and Jodi departed, and Kathi was alone with her guest, who turned to her saying, ‘I wanted you to see him. I wanted to see you. Is it so soon? A nurse already?’

Kathi explained, pouring wine. She was used to explaining. She was well; the birth was not due until the turn of the year; her uncle had insisted that she hire a capable lady who would look after her and the child and, knowing the history of his concern, even Robin would not gainsay him. And she was busy, of course: running her own home for Robin, and helping to supervise those neighbouring houses occupied by some of her uncle’s young family. Since his wife Margriet had died, Adorne himself was often to be found at his house along the Verversdijk, by the Scots trading quarter, and less and less in his grand house, the Hôtel Jerusalem, in which Nicholas had celebrated his first wedding.

Even to Gelis, Kathi did not say much of her uncle, or the nature of their arrival from Poland. The Duke, receiving Adorne, had listened to his report, and accepted the good hunting-dogs and fine amber dispatched, with their goodwill, by the merchants of Danzig. For the rest, he was evidently absorbed in his present campaign, and oblivious to the blow that his recall had inflicted. Was it not true, after all, that Father Ludovico da Bologna would continue to represent the papal, Imperial and Burgundian interests at Tabriz? And did he not have the banker de Fleury to assist him?

The Duke did not know, of course, of anything to the detriment of de Fleury, and had forgotten that he was no longer a banker. Adorne had not enlightened him. But the reference had rankled as he rode grimly home from his audience, bearing the customary ducal donation of gold plate and refunded expenses. His fellow merchants had given him a banquet to mark what he had achieved, and to console him for what he had been forced to abandon. There were murmurs of a high civic appointment,
of the kind his father had held. He was grateful, but the distaste remained. He already held a commission in Scotland. Men of exalted office in Bruges, or in Antwerp, or in Ghent were apt to find themselves caught between their burgher friends and the Duke, and not every townsman proved understanding. All through the feast, Tommaso Portinari had glared.

Adorne’s niece did not expect to discuss any of that with Egidia van Borselen, who was not here, of a certainty, to talk about business, or Adorne. Gelis had taken trouble and spent time with Jodi: a glance at the child showed as much. But her overriding interest, for good or for evil, was to collect news of Nicholas. Whatever excuse she had given, that was why Gelis was here now in Bruges, composed, svelte and golden, sipping wine and asking after everyone’s health. Kathi said, ‘And what about you? The merchant community is riveted by news of your triumphs in Venice. Are you enjoying it all?’

‘Am I here to oust Diniz? No,’ Gelis said. ‘Nicholas damaged the Bank. I aim to repair it, and leave.’

‘They might believe it — eventually,’ Kathi said. ‘Nicholas might even believe it.’

‘Do you think so?’ Gelis said. ‘Of course, Dr Tobie has stayed with me, but there might be other reasons for that.’ The irises of her eyes were of an unvarying clear, pallid blue under the veiling and velvet. She said, ‘Do you believe me?’

‘I understand you feel responsible,’ Kathi said. ‘Nicholas feels even worse. He tried to cut free of you all and become the carefree lout people once took him for. Alichino, hooray. Then he went too far, managed to put an arrow through Julius, and sobered up sufficiently to offer to escort Anna to the Black Sea. I think he will stay in the Crimea, or Poland, or Germany. He loves intrigue, and attracts learned men. Good teachers will find him.’

Gelis said, ‘I wondered. He shot Julius because he had been drinking?’

‘It looked like that,’ Kathi said. ‘But he was upset as well: edgy and changeable. The way he looks when the pendulum has dragged him down.’

‘
Had
he been divining?’ Gelis said.

‘I’m sure he had, although I don’t know the reason. Perhaps Julius had been goading him recently, and he suddenly lost his head. Because Nicholas was so equable as a boy,’ Kathi said, ‘no one expects him to have a temper. But now, I suppose, he has a position in the world, and has learned to defend it by showing anger. Certainly he desperately regretted the shot. He collapsed when he saw what he had done. Thank God Julius didn’t die.’

‘I wish I had been there,’ Gelis said.

‘He hated me for seeing it,’ Kathi said quickly. ‘Anyway, you were doing something more useful. Tobie told me. You went to see Thibault de Fleury, and he wrote a letter. Nicholas will have it by now. He may even turn back and go to Montello?’

‘He couldn’t get there in time. And with his grandfather gone, he would have no motive for going,’ Gelis said flatly. ‘He doesn’t want to prove that he is Simon’s son, now. He wouldn’t even want to trace Adelina, if he thought she had proof.’

‘And you?’ Kathi said. ‘Would you prefer to discover the truth, even if no one ever knew what you found, even Nicholas?’

Gelis was silent. Then she said, ‘I should like to have been able, one day, to go to Simon and his father and say, This man whose life you have made wretched from boyhood is Nicholas de St Pol of Kilmirren, your legitimate heir. But Nicholas would not want it. And I think they would kill him.’

‘Probably,’ Kathi said. ‘But is he a St Pol? Tobie didn’t think so, after what you both learned at Montello. So think of it the other way round. Prove that Nicholas is illegitimate, and you will solve all his problems, or some of them.
Did
you send Thibault music?’

Gelis bent her neck. ‘Yes.’ It sounded curt. Then she added, ‘I had brought some from Scotland,’ and this time there was no mistaking the note in her voice.

‘The Play?’ Kathi said. ‘You gave him your copy of the music for the
Nativity Play
?’ She meant the play Nicholas had devised and produced, the one true, magnificent thing he had done in all his time in Scotland, for which Willie Roger had written the music. There would be other copies. But this was the one, filthy, dog-eared, annotated, which Willie, weeping, had pressed into Gelis’s hands at the end of that towering performance. And Gelis had kept it, ignorant of music as she was, divided from Nicholas as she was. And had given it now to the person whom Nicholas would most want to have it.

Kathi said, with satisfaction, ‘Now I know why he married you!’ and Gelis looked up in tears.

When Robin came home some hours later, his wife and Gelis van Borselen were still sitting talking together, this time on the same settle. Kathi looked reassuringly healthy and Gelis, rising swiftly, seemed less reserved than he had found her before, and almost happy to see him. Then Jodi came hurtling into the room, intent on finding and being reunited with his Robin, and had to be persuaded that Robin was not wholly his property and about to live in his house. In the end, Robin solved the dilemma by escorting Jodi and his mother in person back to the Bank. After all, they all lived in Spangnaerts Street. Then he returned.

‘Well? What did you think?’

As once before, Kathi was painting a cradle, this time for herself. During the short time Robin had been gone, she had dragged it out, fetched her brushes and jars, and was now attempting to put on an apron. With some added string, it was just possible. ‘You’ll strangle him,’ Robin added, patting her fondly. The Berecrofts under the apron punched in return.

‘It’s the other way round,’ Kathi said in a grumbling voice. If Robin’s son was to be born in the land of his fathers, they would have to leave for Scotland quite soon, and she hadn’t got Gelis fully untangled as yet. She said, on that subject, ‘She’s dreadfully frightened, but she isn’t trying to supplant Nicholas, just put right what he did. She agrees he needs time, and Anna can probably help him. Gelis was astonished to hear of the gold.’

‘I’m sure she was,’ Robin said, picking up a dry brush. ‘I hope she thanked you for getting the truth out of Elzbiete.’

‘She was glad I told Anna. Otherwise Nicholas might have changed his mind, and gone sailing the seas with Paúel Benecke. Don’t do that!’

‘Why not? In case my heir catapults out sneezing like Tobie?’ Robin put down the brush. ‘So what else?’

She knew why he was restless. It was a hard time for him, and he kept himself busy, as a rule. Her heart ached, but she went on evenly talking and painting. She spoke of Thibault de Fleury at Montello, adding the little that Tobie had not already described. For the sake of the old man, no one was announcing his partial recovery. But for Anna, they would never have found him. Anna, whose daughter Bonne might be marrying either a bastard or the son of a bastard. Anna had nothing to gain by introducing Nicholas to his grandfather. She had put her own interests last, in order to secure a little happiness, perhaps, for the two men.

Robin’s mind was in the same quarter. ‘And so what about this betrothal? The idea of reuniting the Bank by contracting Jodi to Bonne? Was Gelis alarmed, puzzled, pleased?’

‘She was surprised,’ Kathi said.

It would take too long to describe, even to Robin, the stillness with which Gelis had received that information, or the long moment of silence while she considered it. Then Gelis had said, ‘I hadn’t heard. Whose idea was it? What did Nicholas think?’

To which Kathi could only reply, however unwillingly, with the truth. ‘It was Nicholas, I believe, who suggested it.’

‘Really?’ said Gelis.

‘To combine the two inheritances, I suppose. The Bank was in pieces. Nicholas might have felt grateful to Julius, who had invited him to join his own company …’

‘And then Nicholas shot him?’ remarked Gelis, with not unreasonable scepticism.

‘Anna hasn’t withdrawn the idea of a union, that I know of. Of course, Jodi is young. No steps have been taken. Talks would have to take place. It was understood that your wishes would be fully consulted.’

‘When?’ Gelis had said. ‘Now that Julius is on his sickbed, and Anna and Nicholas are in Caffa?’ Her colour was suddenly flagrant.

‘Send and forbid it,’ Kathi had said. ‘If that’s what you want. Letters do get there eventually. And you can trust Nicholas, surely, in this. He would never commit Jodi to something as important as this unless you agreed. You know he wouldn’t.’

‘Do I?’ said Gelis.

‘Well, I do,’ Kathi had said. ‘What is it? You’re not concerned about Anna? She’s the sensible sister Nicholas ought to have had. And after what he did to Julius, Nicholas will treat her like the eleven thousand virgins all rolled into one. At least he still has the grace to be remorseful.’

But Gelis had not immediately replied.

‘Well?’ Robin was saying now, persevering. His hand oscillated in front of her eyes. Blinking, Kathi directed her gaze at him. ‘What did Gelis think of the marriage proposal?’

‘Oh. That it’s ten years too early, of course. And privately, she must be afraid that it marks a rejection of Jodi. At any rate, she won’t take steps until she hears from Nicholas. She doesn’t want to write to him herself.’

‘In case he burns it,’ said Robin.

Kathi laid down her brush. ‘Gelis didn’t know about that. A lot of friends are honoured with poems by Jodi: Anna must have picked up one of these, and thought it would overwhelm Nicholas with nostalgia and lead to a reunion.’