The Architecture of Desire by Mary Gentle

Author:Mary Gentle
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Chapter Eight

"I have probably heard as much as I should, unless this is College business."

His chair scraped brickwork as Sir William Harvey stood. His bow was a bird-quick movement of the head. Still seated, the White Crow reached across and shook his hand: a thin and tenaciously strong grip.

"Thank you, sir."

The Lord-Architect, holding his black brocade frock-coat open and burrowing in an inside front pocket, lifted his head long enough to say, "My regards to young Janou, if you ever hear from any others of this pox-rotten College."

"Sir: of course."

She watched the small man’s back as he threaded a way through the crowd that, almost by Brownian motion, began a drift towards the largest vault. White tablecloths and iron tableware shone, beyond the next arch. Smells of cooked pig, quail, roots, and gravy heated the air.

The Lord-Architect took out his hip-flask and lifted it to his lips.

"So you’re to go to the Protector . . ." The White Crow hooked up one foot onto the table’s edge, clasped her booted ankle, and rested her chin on her knee. "And say: madam, you stand in need of Carola’s blood-royal, because I see no way to banish these demonic manifestations but by use of this diseased blood. So you must agree to whatever terms the Queen may make, when she hears of it?—no:"

Her finger stabbed the air.

"No . . . There’ll be enough of her father’s by-blows in the commonwealth that the Queen isn’t the only one with such blood. Do you see Carola summoning up the energy or the courage to spill her blood on the eye of the sun? They’ll search for some poor bastard of the last reign and use them."

"No." Casaubon coughed. "Not at all that simple."

"Why not?"

The Lord-Architect Casaubon sneezed and wiped his nose on the sopping lace-ruffles at his cuff.

"Go home." She prodded his bolster-arm. He coughed again, resonantly; and she laid her hand across his forehead, brushing aside sweat-soaked hair. "I’ll come back in an hour and make a Chemicall Decoction. At least I know which of the planetary numina will cure influenza. Casaubon, will you listen to reason?"

"I don’t want to leave you." His breath touched her hand as she lowered her arm. Hot and moist. He coughed again, cheeks reddening.

"Will you go home in the carriage now, or shall I wheel you home in a cart later? I would sooner," she said, changing from humour to seriousness in the space of a breath, "have someone else in the house with Jared and the baby, apart from Kitterage. Will you go?"

"Of c—asshuuu!" The Lord-Architect stood up, swayed as he threw his muffler round his neck, and bent to plant a snot-wet kiss on the White Crow’s hand. "Of course I will, little one. You may trust me implicitly."

"The trouble is," the White Crow said morosely, wiping her hand on the back of her breeches, "that I do."

She watched his teetering bulk stagger away. The fat man ducked his head as he passed under the

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.