The Disorderly Knights by Dorothy Dunnett Read Free Book Online Page B

obtrusive, in the cold harassed ditches outside Haddington. Several gentlemen in attendance and two pages in the Chevalier’s livery rose as he entered. Further, beyond the Chevalier’s portable priedieu, two nuns and an older lady in plain clothes collected their skirts,rose and curtseyed. M. de Villegagnon introduced one of the gentlemen as his secretary and another as his priest, and the elderly lady by name without any explanation at all. Then Richard, who knew when it paid best to be direct, broached his need of transport to Scotland, and consequent interest in the Chevalier’s galley tied up at the quay.
    In the old-fashioned room, hung with mementoes of Dieppois voyages, there was a busy silence, filled by M. de Villegagnon repeating the question to gain time. His eyes, Lord Culter observed, rested on the calm face of the old lady. She, apparently unaware of this, continued with a piece of fine sewing. Only, without looking up, she said, ‘Mademoiselle would be the better of an escort, I believe.’
    To live without property and to guard my chastity , thought Richard, and kept his face grave. M. de Villegagnon, however, smiled and said, ‘Forgive me, my lord. The ship you speak of is about to convey to Scotland a special charge of mine, a young lady who has been placed in my care. Being convent-bred and very young, she is unused to strangers, which is why I hesitated to mention her name. But if Madame Donati is satisfied.…’
    The old lady with the sewing, raising her powderless face, nodded her old-fashioned headdress and stared at Lord Culter.
    ‘Then I think we might ask Mile Joleta to give you leave.’
    ‘She is at her prayers,’ said one of the nuns breathlessly.
    ‘I shall fetch her,’ said the other; and with a heaving of black skirts she left.
    ‘Joleta,’ thought Richard. ‘Where have I heard …?’
    Then she was in the room, and his mouth opened just a little, and stayed open. ‘Joleta,’ said the Chevalier de Villegagnon comfortably, watching him. ‘Mistress Joleta Malett, sister of Sir Graham Reid Malett, Knight of St John of Jerusalem and my most famous friend of the Order in Malta.’
    Madame Donati, who had risen, walked round and took the girl’s hand. ‘Gabriel’s sister,’ she said.
    Joleta Reid Malett of the apricot hair was then just sixteen. Lord Culter never knew what she wore. The robe fell from childish white wrists, hazy with freckles, and veiled all her small bones from neck to floor. Above and over it, smooth as silk floss, the shining apricot hair fell back from the matt skin, flushed and speckled with sun. He saw her white teeth, exposed unconsciously like a child’s below the soft upper lip, and her eyes, white-lashed aquamarine, filling her face. Then, because he was near suffocation, Richard Crawford, insufflating mournfully, refilled his lungs. Flushing, he caught de Villegagnon’s eye, and then found it in him to smile. He was staid, intelligent, and not overlong married to a ravishing wife; but Joleta Malett would always stop your breath for a moment, unless you were blind.
    Her voice was clear: firm-jawed like an adult’s, and sparkling with small, over-careful sibilants. She said, ‘This is the Master of Erskine?’
    ‘No, Mademoiselle,’ said Madame Donati, still holding her hand. ‘This is another gentleman from Scotland, come to ask the Chevalier’s permission to travel on your ship. His lordship of Culter … Mistress Joleta Reid Malett.’
    Her hand was warm, with oval fingernails. He kissed it, and a vivid pleasure at once appeared in her face, followed by, he could have sworn, a flash of pure mischief. ‘I told Gabriel about Lord Culter and his brother Francis,’ said de Villegagnon from beside them. ‘I think you would enjoy his company on the voyage, and I know he will enjoy yours. He has a new son to talk about.’
    ‘A baby?’ She sat down, studiously maternal, and said, ‘How splendid it is to be surrounded by young life. I had a