Beauvallet by Georgette Heyer

Author:Georgette Heyer
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2010-03-10T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

It was not perhaps surprising that in so short a time the gay Chevalier de Guise made some noise about the town. He had the trick of it. To be secret, to lie close, seemed to be no part of his design. His credentials were good, Losa's patronage carried him whithersoever he listed, and he used it to the full. There was scarcely anyone in Madrid who had not heard of the Chevalier, few who had not met him. From the Court came no sign. Philip must ponder his reply, annotate the despatch, sleep upon it, lay it aside to ponder it yet again. Those who sought to hurry the Catholic King did so to their own despair. He would do nothing without carefully weighing it; if his brain worked slowly he at least was not aware of it. He was methodical, plodding, infinitely conscientious, and he prided himself upon his cautious judgment.

For Philip to be dilatory up to a point suited Sir Nicholas very well, since, as he saw it, nothing could be done in his affair while Dominica still lay at Madrid. If Philip delayed too long, however, he would have to employ another messenger to carry his answer back to the Guise. Sir Nicholas would be very well pleased to get that answer into his own hands, for it promised to be interesting to an English Protestant. Walsingham would be glad of it, but Sir Nicholas had no notion of serving Master Secretary to his own plan's undoing. There was food enough for Walsingham in the Guise's cyphered letter, a copy of which was safe in Beauvallet's possession. It concerned one Mary Stewart, unfortunate lady, at present a state prisoner in England, and certain illuminating schemes for her future as compiled by his Majesty King Philip, and the Duc de Guise. Fine doings there! Enough to make Master Secretary's hair stand on end.

For the rest Sir Nicholas went junketting about the town, and by the way gleaned some useful information likely to interest not only Walsingham, but Sir Francis Drake, too, and not less the Lord Admiral, Howard of Effingham. There was a fleet building in Cadiz harbour; Sir Nicholas made copious mental notes of the size and strength of those tall galleons, and even toyed with the notion of travelling south to see for himself.

His behaviour during this period provoked nervous qualms in Joshua Dimmock, who declared himself to be a meacock creature, and shivered from time to time. He had reason for his qualms, for he had good cause to know that never was Beauvallet so reckless as when he played with danger on every hand. ‘Master,’ said he, ‘is there never one who suspects?’

‘Ay, the French Ambassador,’ Sir Nicholas answered. ‘One of his satellites hath been set to question me – very cleverly, so he thought.’

‘God's me! this is to undo all! And you said, master?’

‘Oh, I gave him a bountiful answer, be sure,’ was all he could get from Sir Nicholas.

On Monday evening Dominica was to be seen at the Alepere house, off the Calle Mayor.

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