by Sonia Parin
Lexie sat up only then realizing she’d slumped... or rather, she had slumped. She did a quick hunt around in her mental archives for any dialogue that might help her. Fortunately, she’d... she had recently spent an evening curled up on the couch watching Pride and Prejudice. Mr Darcy’s apologetic monologue came to mind. “Ms Penelope Stewart, please do not be alarmed, ma’am, that this be my normal behavior. No, no, not at all, it is nothing but a temporary lapse of poor judgment on my part and shall not, no... no... no, it shall not be repeated. Of that, I can give you my heartiest assurances...”
“Ma’am?”
Why does she sound... what’s... what is the word I am looking for?
Affronted. It is highly improper to address someone as ma’am. There are exceptions to the rule, of course. If the person addressed happens to be the Queen of England or a royal princess you are free to use the honorific. However, in this instance, and I cannot stress this enough, it is highly erroneous to address an American as ma’am.
Huh?
Pay attention. Mirabelle is going into damage control. She is determined to secure this prestigious assignment and I do believe she will, even if it is the last duty she performs as a fully competent High Chair.
You think I’ve driven her to the edge?
I believe you have pushed her a tad over the edge. Yes. Oh, how I wish I could lick my paw but it would not do, not in the presence of Ms Penelope Stewart. She would never forgive the indiscretion.
Don’t you just wish you could have a scratch too?
Your taunt is most inopportune. Rest assured, it shall not go unpunished. I will contrive to... oh, damnation... it itches.
With an exemplary show of stiff upper-lipped haughtiness, Ms Penelope Stewart rose and bid her farewells... and adieus. Lexie slumped right back and sighed with relief.
“Hey, Luna. Go forth and scratch.”
Luna leaped off the chair and rolled around the rug maniacally scratching and licking to her heart’s content.
Mirabelle’s orb turned toward Lexie.
With or without her newly acquired altered state of intuition, Lexie knew she’d... she had just earned a black blotchy mark against her. Unfortunately, she also knew it wouldn’t get her off the hook.
She was off to The Lauriston Academy for Ladies and their Feline Companions to investigate what sounded like a case of petty theft.
Chapter Two
“Jonathan is about to arrive. He’s bringing pizza and beer. Would you please do me the courtesy of taking off so I can indulge in a last meal.”
“They will feed you there,” Catherine assured her, “In fact, The Lauriston Academy for Ladies and Feline Companions has a world class Cordon Bleu cooking school. All meals are gastronomic delights.”
“Served in itzy-bitsy portions, no doubt. And, if my intuition is to be trusted, I’m thinking they use food as part of their reward system. Knowing me... as well as I know me, I’m likely to return from this escapade a few pounds lighter.”
“Are you foreseeing trouble?”
“Um... duh! Did you see the way Ms Penelope, Mistress of Electrocution eyeballed me?”
“Elocution,” they all piped in.
“Yeah, what you said.” Lexie paced around her small sitting room. “And why do I have to go undercover as a pupil? Why can’t I go as... as an instructor?”
“Of what? The art of gorging on pizza?” Mirabelle asked.
“I could... I could do that thing of teaching how to walk with a book on your head. You know, what’s it called?”
“It’s called walking... with poise. Now that you mention it, you should practice. We don’t actually want you to be tied up in remedial classes. You must be free to roam and investigate.” Mirabelle’s orb hovered over to one end of the room. “Now, walk toward me.”
Lexie sauntered over, turned and strode back.
“No. No. Absolutely not.”
“What? What did I do wrong?”
“Everything. Your shoulders slumped, your head bobbed from side to side, and heaven knows what you were doing with your hips but it was almost... indecent.”
“Huh? This is how I walk.”
“And therein lies the problem.” Mirabelle turned to Luna. “Would you care to do the honors?”
“She’s a cat.”
“She is a graduate and a Laurestonian through and through.”
Clear the way. I’ll need some assistance.
Luna strutted over to the middle of the room.
“Where’s Octavia?” Mirabelle asked.
“I gave her the week off.” Or rather, she’d given herself the week off. At first, having a personal assistant had been fun, but the novelty had worn off as Octavia’s super efficiency had cast a bright spotlight on Lexie’s shortcomings, none of which she’d been aware of... sort of.
Mirabelle’s orb went dark.
“Has she left?” Lexie asked.
“No,” Catherine said, “She must be looking for a solution. If Luna is to show you how to walk, she’ll need someone to assist her.”
Moments later, Mirabelle’s orb brightened. “All sorted out. Meanwhile we could work on your diction.”
Lexie flapped her arms. “What can possibly be wrong with the way I talk?”
Mirabelle sighed. “Where to begin...”
Lexie shook her finger at the orb. “Don’t... Do not go there. You’re... You are enjoying this.”
“Indeed, I am. It is high time you acquired the necessary finesse to ascend to your position. As the incoming High Chair, you will be required to uphold a tradition...”
“And I will... do it my way. I’ll wing it...”
“That is what I am afraid of. There is no room for improvising. We must set an example and that means we must adhere to time honored practices—”
Lexie covered the orb with a throw rug.
“What happened? Who switched off the lights? Where is everyone?”
“That was not very kind,” Catherine admonished.
“So why are you laughing?” Her trained nose had her walking to the door even before Jonathan had a chance to let himself in. “Come to mama. You smell wonderful,” she said as she opened the door and zeroed in on the pizza.
“Hello to you too.” Jonathan came to an abrupt halt.
She slapped down her puffy sleeves. “Not a word about what I’m wearing.”
His chest shook but he nodded.
“Come on in. You arrived in the nick of time. Apparently, I need lessons on how to walk.”
“You ordered a large pizza so I guess you’ll be waddling.”
Lexie gave the owner of O’Connor’s bar a brisk smile. “Hand over the pizza and beer and no one gets hurt.” She took the pizza and tried to find a comfortable spot on the hard-back settee.
“What? No silver cutlery?”
“I gave Octavia the week off.” She took a bite of pizza and smacked her lips. “Honestly, there is nothing better than a heavenly slice of pizza to make one forget... I forget what.”
Jonathan strode into the kitchen and returned with some paper napkins. He stopped and looked at the settee, side table and screens. “Should I ask about the furniture?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Sinking her teeth into her pizza, she glanced at Jonathan. Her reluctant guardian hadn’t made a fuss about coming over which made her wonder if he’d finally come around and accepted his lot in life. In reality, she knew she’d become his new source of amusement.
“Why is there a throw rug hovering in the middle of the room?” he asked.
“That’s Mirabelle. She’s trying on a new look.”
Mirabelle harrumphed. “Jonathan, would you be so kind as to—”
“Yes, yes. There you go.” He removed the throw rug and jumped back as Mirabelle expanded to a bright red orb.
“Killjoy,” Lexie murmured.
He settled beside Lexie on the settee and risked life and limb by grabbing a slice of pizza for himself. Just as he was about to take a bite of it,
Luna sauntered into the sitting room and made a beeline for him.
Jonathan brushed his hand across his face. Growling softly, he rubbed his eyes. “I’m not going to ask.” He shook his head. “No... I’m not.”
Luna leaped up and landed on his thigh.
What are you doing?
I’m taunting him. He doesn’t want to ask but he wants to know why I’m white. Do you think he’ll cave?
Jonathan growled under his breath again.
“Is something wrong?” Lexie asked him.
Rolling his eyes, he asked, “Is anything right?”
And that’s another thing. Can he actually hear us? I’m thinking he’s pretending he can’t because he’s still in denial about being your guardian.
“Did you know Luna here is a graduate of The Lauriston Academy for Ladies and Feline Companions?” Lexie asked.
He nodded. “Her and every High Chair and their feline companions.”
“How... How did you know that?” Was her mother a graduate?
He’s your guardian. Of course he knows. In fact, he’s well versed in our history but that’s not something he’ll readily admit to because it goes against his alpha male traits.
Mirabelle tapped her gavel and declared, “Time is of the essence. So while you indulge in your last meal we can proceed with some other matters.”
“Oh, goody. We finally get to the highlight of the day. Catherine mentioned you wanted to incorporate us.”
Jonathan slanted his gaze at her. “Is this some weird hocus-pocus fusion? If you merge with the wenches, what are you going to turn into?”
“Remember those suspicions I told you about?”
He nodded. “The ones you kept hinting at but never mentioned because you were secretly afraid that if you did, they’d come true?”
“Well, we’re about to be enlightened. We’re going into business and I’m guessing I’ve been chosen as the general dog’s body slash foot soldier.”
“You have the skill set for it,” Mirabelle said, “We are merely exploiting our strengths.”
“Are you suggesting mine is to blindly follow orders?” Lexie asked.
“If only,” Mirabelle said under her breath. “Hardly that. Your powers are awakening...”
Lexie turned to Jonathan and bobbed her eyebrows at him. “She’s referring to my highly tuned intuitive skills.”
“So you bought into that? I guess they’ve found other ways of fooling you.”
Mirabelle tapped her gavel. “As we all know, there are certain concerns which cannot be addressed by laypeople...”
Lexie nodded. “Now she’s referring to things like deadly inky black fogs and rogue witches.”
“The High Chairs have accepted the existing demand for our particular talents and have agreed to allow us to establish an agency so long as we adhere to a strict code of conduct and remain inconspicuous.”
“Told you. Covert operations. Hey, do we get code names?” Lexie turned to Jonathan. “What do you think I should call myself? Madam X for Extraordinary?”
Mirabelle tapped her gavel again. “There will be no code names.”
She Who Must Be Obeyed has spoken. Let’s brainstorm this. SWOMBO. Luna, help me out.
I’m busy staring at Jonathan. I know I can break him. He wants to know why I’m white. I know he does.
Jonathan picked a piece of anchovy off his pizza and dangled it in front of Luna.
“While our current assignment with The Lauriston Academy will take precedence, I would like everyone to think about a name for our organization. Needless to say it should be something tasteful. As for our roles, we should play to our strengths. As I have access to a vast library, I will focus on research. Catherine will utilize her skills in incantations. And that brings us to the other matter at hand...”
Catherine cleared her throat. “High roller, low roller, lower roller. How can a clam cram in a clean cream can?”
“Huh?”
“Jingle jungle jangle joker. That is my favorite. Now repeat after me. Yoda met a Yeti on the Plains of Serengeti—”
“Huh?”
“Tongue twisters, Lexie, will assist with proper pronunciation,” Catherine explained, “Lauriston pupil are put through their paces and must learn these by heart. Practice makes perfect, so you should put in a few minutes every hour on the hour.”
“How am I supposed to remember them?”
“Easy.” A shower of sparkles rained over Lexie.
“Peter Prangle, the prickly pear picker, picked three perfectly prickly pears.” Lexie swatted the air around her. “Hey, what did you do to me?”
Catherine snickered. “I bestowed upon you a series of tongue twisters. Remember, a few minutes every hour on the dot.”
“Around the rugged rocks—” Lexie stuffed a piece of pizza in her mouth and nearly choked when she saw Octavia striding in.
“Am I late?” Octavia asked.
“Hey, what are you doing here? I gave you the week off.”
Her personal assistant smiled. “Mirabelle just contacted me... on your behalf, of course, and asked if I could step in to assist. Luna will be accompanying you, so someone has to hold the fort. Also, I understand you require a crash course in etiquette and general comportment. Luna, if you’d like to step forward.”
Luna leaped onto the floor and sauntered over to Octavia.
“What the heck are they up to now?” Lexie asked around a mouthful of pizza.
“This is usually covered in Module 7 but as we are short on time,” Octavia explained, “We must skip a few essentials and cut straight to the chase. Posture, Poise and Deportment. Through your movements, you must project confidence, elegance and charismatic leadership. You achieve this by reinforcing proper posture and body language...”
Mirabelle cleared her throat. “Perhaps you should downplay the reinforcing part. Lexie has a few bad habits which don’t bear reinforcing.”
“Oh,” Octavia exclaimed. “Yes, of course. She does tend to bob her head from side to side when she walks. Anyhow, Luna and I will demonstrate.”
Luna stepped up onto Octavia’s feet and Octavia took hold of her front paws. What came next had both Jonathan and Lexie tilting their heads and frowning.
“Did you know she could do that?” Jonathan asked.
“I... I... I don’t know what to say. She looks as though she’s been stretched out on a vertical rack. I had no idea she was so long. Should I object to what Octavia’s doing to Luna?”
“You could try but I think Luna is enjoying herself. Look at the way she’s managing to look down her nose without appearing overly snooty.”
“Lift your chin slightly,” Octavia instructed as she and Luna took a few dainty steps forward, “Too much and you risk coming across as aloof but just enough endows you with an air of elegant charisma as portrayed by Luna here who is doing a splendid job befitting a graduate of The Lauriston Academy for Ladies and Feline Companions. Granted, she’s not able to gesture with her paw because I need to hold her upright, but you should keep in mind that an elegant hand gesture here and there will enhance the overall effect.”
They watched, their gazes unblinking as Luna and Octavia sauntered elegantly across the sitting room.
“Now it’s your turn.”
Jonathan shifted in his seat. “This... I have to see.”
“I’m not sure I got it. Do it again,” Lexie encouraged.
They watched in awed silence for a moment and then Jonathan murmured, “So... you have another gig with the wenches.”
“Yep.”
“What exactly do they want you to do this time?”
“I’m going to be looking into a case of petty theft.”
“You hope.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jonathan shrugged. “They have a solid track record for luring you into difficult situations.”
“I’ll be fine. Luna’s coming along with me and I’ve promoted her to head of security.”
&nbs
p; “You said that with a straight face.”
Lexie sighed. “Nothing’s ever going to be the same again... is it?”
“I think that time has come and gone... By the way, your sleeves are puffing up again.”
Chapter Three
Wake up.
Your whiskers are tickling me. Stop it.
It is time to get up.
You’re walking a very fine line, missy.
What did I say about contractions? Do you want to blow our cover?
Lexie sprung upright. “What? Where? How?” She peeled her eyes open and groaned. “What are you talking about? We’re still here.”
“You will have to do better than this. Tardiness is frowned upon at The Lauriston Academy for Ladies and Feline Companions. Do you want us to get expelled?” Luna scurried around the bedroom. “You are all packed and your dress has been freshly pressed.”
Lexie peered at the offensive item.
It hadn’t been a dream. Worse. It was a waking nightmare. And did those sleeves look puffier?
Her gaze narrowed. Her finger sprung out. “What... what are those?”
“Gloves and a sunbonnet. Oh... I nearly forgot. Where’s the parasol?”
“The w-what-what?” She buried her face in her hands and dug deep for something... anything to help her through the day. When she opened her eyes, she saw Luna in a flurry of activity. “And what are you so excited about? Stop running around. You’re making me dizzy.”
“First day jitters. Everyone will already have formed social groups. What if no one likes me? How do I look?” Luna licked her paw.
“I think you missed a spot.”
“Where? Where?”
“Behind you.” Lexie slumped back and watched Luna run around in circles. At least she hadn’t woken up to the sight of Catherine and Mirabelle hovering above her. A small mercy, she thought.
“Ah, good. You’re awake.” Octavia strode in carrying a breakfast tray.
“Nope. I. Am. Awake.”
