The Duke turned slowly, negligently, as though without intent until he saw Katherine. Across the heads of the fluttering, chattering ladies their eyes met in a long unsmiling look. She felt him willing her to come to him, and her lids dropped, but she did not move. After a moment he covered the space between them, and she curtsied again without speaking.
"I trust the voyage was not too disagreeable a one, my Lady Swynford," he said coolly, but as she rose her eyes were on a level with his sunburned throat and there she saw a pulse beating with frantic speed.
"Not too disagreeable, Your Grace," she said and rejoiced at the calm politeness of her tone. She felt the slight hush behind them and saw the Princess' watchful stare; lifting her voice a trifle she added, "How does my husband? Have you heard, my lord?"
"Better, I believe," John answered after a moment, "though still confined to his lodgings."
Katherine again meeting his gaze saw the colour deepen beneath the tan of his cheeks. "I'm longing to see Hugh and care for him," she said. "May Nirac guide me to Hugh's lodging directly we disembark?"
A strange almost bewildered look tightened the muscles around his eyes, but before he answered a strident voice called imperiously, "John, come here! I've much to tell you - you've not heard yet the peril we were in on this wretched ship - the King's Grace, our father, has sent special message - and how long are we to be kept sweltering here in this infernal heat?"
"Ay, Nirac shall guide you, Lady Swynford," he said, then turning to his sister laughed sharply. "Your commands, my sweet Isabel, plunge me back into the happy days of my childhood. In truth, you've changed but little, fair sister."
"So I'm told," said the lady nodding. "Lord Percy said but t'other day, I looked as young as twen - , as several years ago. By Saint Thomas, what's that caterwauling?" She broke off to glare indignantly around the deck. A medley of voices had arisen from all parts of the ship. A confusion of sound at first, until led by the high clear tenor of the watch, it resolved itself into a solemn melody, a poignant chant carried by some forty male voices.
"It is the hymn of praise to the Virgin of the Sea," said John. " 'Tis sung on every ship of all nations when port is safely reached - for see, here is Bordeaux." He pointed to the white-walled town curving around its great crescent of river, and dominated by the high gilt spires of the cathedral.
Here is Bordeaux, echoed Katherine's thought, and the words blended with the great swelling chorus of the Latin hymn the men sang: "Thanks to Thee, Blessed Virgin, for protection from danger, thanks to thy all abiding mercy which has saved us from the sea - -" She shivered in the violent sunlight, staring at the garish savage colours on the river-bank: the white and scarlet houses, the purple shadows, the brilliant yellows, crimsons, greens of vegetation shimmering in heat beneath a turquoise sky, and she thought with foreboding of how far away was the cool misty Northland, and all safe accustomed things. She fastened her attention on the city in front of her so that she might not turn again to look at him who stood behind her on the deck.
CHAPTER XIV
Hugh's lodgings were two rooms over a wine-shop in an alley behind the cathedral. Nirac duly guided Katherine through the town from the pier, while a small donkey laden with her two travelling chests ambled with them. She had managed to avoid the Duke entirely, even taking it upon herself to tell Nirac of the Duke's permission and order Nirac to accompany her.
This order Nirac received with an enigmatic shrug and smile, "Comme vous voulez, ma belle dame" and she thought that the faithful, amusing little Gascon whom she had known so well in England had somehow changed here in his native land. She chided herself for thinking him suddenly sinister and secret, like the twilit town that turned blank walls to the street and hid its true life from passers-by.
It was not until they mounted the littered stone stairs above the wine-shop that Katherine thought of the angry treatment Hugh had shown to Nirac long ago at Kettlethorpe and wondered if the Gascon still resented it, but then she thought that if he did it would not matter; stronger than any other thing in life for Nirac was his adoration of the Duke, and that feeling would check all others.
"Are you sure this is it?" she asked dubiously as they stood on a cramped landing and she knocked at a rough plank door. There was no sound from within.
"La cabaretiere said so, madame," answered Nirac who had inquired from the shopkeeper.
Katherine knocked again, then pushed open the sagging door, calling, "Hugh."
He lay on a rough narrow bed and had been dozing. The single shutter was closed against the heat, and in the dim light he blinked at his wife, who lit the doorway like a flame. Then he struggled to his elbow and said, uncertainly, "Is it really you, Katherine? But it's early - Ellis left to fetch you but a short time ago - we heard the ship was sighted in the river. Who's that behind you, is it Ellis?"
"No, Hugh," she said gently, going to the bed and taking his hand, "it's Nirac, the Duke's messenger. I hurried straight to you and have missed Ellis."
His hand clung to hers, it was hot and dry. His unshaven face was haggard between the matted wisps of his crinkled hair, and in his voice she had heard the querulous note of ill health. On a stool by the head of the bed there was a pile of torn linen strips, a bleeding basin and a small clay cup. Flies buzzed in the stuffy sour room, the dingy hempen sheet on which Hugh lay was wadded into lumps. She bent over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Ah, my dear, 'tis well I've come to nurse you. The Duke said you were better, are you?" She glanced at the bandaged leg, which was propped on a straw pillow.
"For sure 'e's better!" cried Nirac heartily, coming forward to the bed and bowing. " 'Is Grace's own leech 'as cared for 'im, an' now 'e 'as the best medicine in the world!" He smiled at Katherine, his bright black eyes were merry and charming, and she wondered what had made them seem sinister before.
Hugh said, "Oh, it's you, you meaching cockscomb. I'd forgot all about you." His dull gaze wandered from the Gascon to Katherine. "Ay, I'm better, the wound's near done festering. I'd be up now save for the griping in my bowels, it weakens me."
"Alack!" she said, " 'tis the flux again? But 'twill pass - you've got over it before."
He nodded, "Ay." He made effort to pull himself from the self-centred lethargy of his illness, yet in truth her beauty daunted him; and though he had much wanted her to come, now he felt the old discouragement and humiliation which always sought relief in anger.
"Now you are here," he said crossly, "I trust you're not too fine a lady to fetch us up some supper and wine from the woman's kitchen down below. Or has the Duke's appointment turned your head?"
Nirac made a faint hissing sound through his teeth, but she did not hear it as she answered, "I'm here to care for you, Hugh. Come, don't speak to me like that," she said smiling. "Don't you long for news of home - of our children?"
"I leave now, madame," said Nirac softly, and he added in swift French, "I wish you joy of your reunion." He was gone before she could thank him for his long care of her on the journey.
Through the rest of the day Katherine tended her husband. She took off her fine green gown and put on a thin russet kersey which she wore for everyday at Kettlethorpe; in this she tidied and cleaned the two bare little rooms. She made Hugh's bed, washed him and re-bound his leg, hiding her revulsion at the look of his wound, which was puffed high with proud flesh and oozing a trickle of yellow pus. But Hugh said it had much improved, and Ellis, when he returned from his fruitless errand to the ship, also agreed.