Jack Whyte - Order in Chaos

“So be it, then. I accept your explanation, Sir James, and I thank you for it. Sir William Sinclair, I fear I may have wronged you, in this at least.” Then, accepting that he might be absolutely incapable of looking at her, she reached out and prodded his forearm gently with the tip of one finger. “Will you forgive me, Sir William?”

Will stood stock-still, fighting an overwhelming urge to lean towards her, more aware of her proximity than he had ever been of anything else he could remember in his life. The warmth of her physical closeness in the radiant glow of the fire’s light was a palpable thing, making him want to reach out and touch her, and the sweetness of her body’s haunting perfume filled his nostrils and even his mouth, making his head swim. He knew he had to answer her, and he wanted to respond graciously, but his senses were awash with sensuous and guilty pleasure and he could not collect himself sufficiently to answer her directly. And presently the silence, brief as it was, had stretched to the point where even young Douglas became aware of it.

“Sir William?” he inquired, and Will drew himself erect, forcing himself to address the moment.

“Forgive me, Baroness,” he muttered, in what amounted to a growl, glancing sideways at Jessie and hearing the slurred quality of his own words, “I was … woolgathering, my thoughts far from here … I beg your pardon. Something you said … I know not what now, reminded me of my sister Peggy …” He drew in a great breath and spoke again with more strength and conviction. “As for what you may have thought about my conduct, think no more on it, for it was understandable, given what happened. I merely regret that I could not bring you to the presence of King Robert, to make your own presentation to him.” Somehow, he found the strength to enable him to turn his head and look her straight in the eye, and he spoke now with absolute conviction. “I swear, though, that had you been here to witness his receipt of your tidings, you would have been much gratified. He was deeply moved and greatly honored by the substance of your decision to do what you have done, and by your devotion and loyalty, supporting him so openly and generously. That much I heard him say, and in those words, and I had no doubt of his sincerity.”

Jessie was gazing at him in surprise, for this was the most she had heard him say in one breath since the occasion of their first meeting in La Rochelle, when he had been talking to his equals in the Order. But even in her astonishment, she saw that he was on the point of swinging away from her again, impatient with her scrutiny, and so she spun quickly, before he could move, and spoke again to Sir James Douglas.

“In that case, Sir James, I will accept both of your offers … a seat by the fire and safe transport. Pull up those chairs, if you will, and let us talk of what must be done and how it can be achieved.”

WITHIN THE FOLLOWING QUARTER HOUR, everything needful had been arranged to the satisfaction of all three participants. Will would arrange for the Baroness’s belongings, including the chests destined for the royal treasury, to be transferred the next day from Admiral de Berenger’s galley to the craft now commanded by Vice-Admiral de Narremat, which would be placed at the disposal of Sir James for the month to come. The procedure would be both straightforward and complicated, Douglas suspected, requiring each of the two great galleys to be warped, in its turn, close up to the single small quay in the bay below the castle at Brodick, the first to unload its valuable cargo from its holds onto the wharf, and the second to reload it safely in its own hold. When the Baroness asked why it should be so difficult, it was Will who answered her, pointing out that the sheer weight of the bullion chests made it too dangerous to attempt the transfer from hold to hold on open water using ropes and pulleys. A single slip, he pointed out, could lose a chest forever and might easily damage, or even maim, a ship.

While the transfer was taking place, Douglas, for his part, would delegate a handpicked crew of his most capable and trustworthy men to act as escorts and bodyguards to Jessie and her women until they were safely lodged within the security of her own family lands, for he and they would probably have to part company as soon as they made landfall on the mainland of Scotland, dependent, of course, upon whatever concentration of English soldiery and military readiness they found nearby upon landing.

Will had made but little contribution to this discussion aside from his comments on the weight of the treasure. He was content to leave it to the other two, who were more closely involved than he, to work out the details. He merely listened and nodded his agreement from time to time, staring steadily into the fire for the most part in order to avoid looking at Jessie Randolph, for although he had grown inured, to a minor degree, to dealing with Baroness St. Valéry on a surface level, it was her disconcerting alter ego, the mercurial Jessie, who confounded him and set his pulse racing while his chest constricted and butterflies of tension fluttered beneath his ribs.

When their conversation lapsed eventually, all arrangements concluded, they sat silent for a while, enjoying the soporific heat of the fire in the brazier, until Jessie turned slightly sideways and spoke to Sinclair in what he thought of as her “baroness” tone.

“And you, Sir William, what will you find to occupy your time here in this lonely place once we are gone and you are alone and fancy-free at last?” The question was so ludicrous in its banality that Will was shocked into responding openly. “My time? You ask me how I will spend my time? I have no time, madam. No time to spare, I mean, for any other purpose than that to which I stand committed—the care and sustenance of our Order in these difficult times.”

“Ah! Of course. I should have known that without asking.” Jessie was almost smiling at him, her lips barely quivering at the edges, her eyes alight with mischief. “The great and massy responsibilities to which you are forever tied. But surely, after several hundreds of years, your men and your people are sufficiently set in their ways that they are able to function successfully under any circumstances? I should have thought that, once safely delivered here to their new premises, they would be able to set themselves up and establish their disciplines afresh without the need for direct supervision. Am I to understand that this is not so, that they require your stern and guiding eye at every stage?”

Will knew she was trying to goad him into anger, and so he bit down the retort that first sprang to his lips and forced himself to sit silently as he shaped an appropriate response, one that she would not be able to rip apart and ridicule at first exposure. Douglas sat silent, too, watching both of them and awaiting developments.

Will finally nodded. “You are partially correct, Baroness,” he said, still stiffly. “Under normal circumstances, matters would proceed as you describe. But the circumstances in effect today are most unusual, and I may speak of them to you because you are already aware of what I mean. The recent events in France have created havoc among our normal means of doing things, and I am faced with a situation that has no precedent … to call it novel would be gross understatement. And I am the one who must adapt to it and deal with the outcome, since I appear to be the highest-ranking member of the Order here. King Robert and Sir James have both informed me that there is no Master in Scotland today, and no official Temple outpost, since most of the knights of the Scottish Temple were in fact English, adherents of the former king, Edward, and withdrew to London during the wars. Thus, it appears that I am in sole charge of our Temple affairs here.”