To Lie with Lions by Dorothy Dunnett Read Free Book Online Page B

she would treat him with stony reserve. But that changed. Julius enjoyed the pleasant aspects of life and was not a man to cast blame on others. Nor was he shy. When, one day, he asked her why Nicholas had done such a thing, his brashness unexpectedly brought him an answer. Gelis, at first silent, spoke slowly. ‘I kept the child from him. I was afraid.’
    Julius knew that much, from Margot. He said, ‘Afraid Nicholas would harm it? Surely not?’
    ‘I had a reason,’ she said. From a plump child in Bruges, she had grown into a lissome, fair woman of twenty-six with the looks to make a lusty man happy. Although uninterested in her himself, Julius was conscious, at these meetings, that they made a fine pair.
    He said, ‘And now?’
    She had looked at him. ‘Will he harm Jordan? He might. Even if he does not, how can he heal the shock of that night, stealing him from all that he knows? And he will teach him to hate me.’
    Julius said, ‘Margot tells me his nurses have gone.’
    ‘Even his nurses,’ she said. Her voice was bitter. After a moment she said, ‘But if they are with him, of course it will help.’
    Then, as she fell silent, Julius said, ‘What are you going to do?’ He supposed she realised that if Nicholas didn’t want to be found, she wouldn’t find him. And meantime she was friendless in Venice, and in Bruges would find no warmer reception, he suspected. He doubted if she had any close relatives living, apart from her cousin Wolfaert at Veere. On the other hand, she had money. Nicholas had endowed her as his wife with a fortune. He must be regretting it now.
    She said, ‘What are your plans?’
    It was not the sort of question a man like Julius would answer out of hand. Ten years older than Nicholas, he had once helped to run the small dyeworks in which Nicholas had begun as an apprentice. Since then, he had risen with Nicholas, and watched Nicholas surpass him without any real rancour. To Julius, the best years of his life had been spent serving the Bank with Gregorio in Venice or Bruges.
    He had no ties. At present, there was urgent business demanding his presence in the Imperial city of Cologne, six weeks’ journey from Venice. He proposed travelling there through the Tyrol, where he was to leave two of his colleagues. It struck him that the presence of Gelis van Borselen in Cologne might not be unsuitable. The story of the dispute over the child would be known, but would not, as in Bruges, be fiercely debated. She could act as his hostess, chaperonedby the wife of their agent. And Cologne was only four days from Bruges. Sooner or later Nicholas would emerge, or resume contact. Julius could not see Nicholas living in limbo, without numbers, without puzzles, without schemes: a hermit rearing a baby.
    He said, ‘I have some business in Cologne. Perhaps, if you are going to Bruges, you might like to stop there on the way?’
    She accepted his offer. If there was no outburst of passionate gratitude, he sensed she was deeply relieved. His fellows at the Bank were less so, although Father Moriz, who was also bound for the Tyrol, described his scheme as humane. John le Grant, their other expert on mines, swore in German when told and banged the door, leaving.
    To Margot, Julius said, ‘I think you will have to tell me what Gelis did that was so terrible.’ He tried to sound less enjoyably interested than he felt.
    Margot did not answer at first. Then she said, ‘She kept the child from him.’
    ‘I know that,’ Julius said. He looked to Gregorio for more.
    Gregorio studied his hands. When Margot took one of them quietly in hers, he glanced at her. Then he turned his gaze on Julius and spoke slowly. ‘Gelis tried to persuade Nicholas that this child was not his, but the son of Simon of St Pol. It is not so, of course. They have been competing with one another, Gelis and Nicholas. They have been looking for new ways to hurt each other.’
    ‘She and Simon were lovers?’ Julius said.
    ‘I