by Julie Berry
“Then you must meet my family,” I said. “Over there, Mrs. Moreau has been my friend and neighbor my whole life. She’s practically kin to me.”
“Howdee doo, Majesty,” Widow Moreau said, with a wrinkly smile and a squatting sort of curtsy.
“This is her son, Aidan Moreau,” I said. “He works as a stonemason at the palace. The youngest and most talented master stonemason in all of Chalcedon.”
“Excellent,” the kind said, shaking Aidan’s hand heartily. “We need more young men like you to build the kingdom!”
Aidan grunted in reply.
“And this,” I said, pointing to Grandfather, “is my … ”
And I stumbled in my speech. It all hit me then. The realization that he was my father before I died. Bijou saving Clair, thereby saving me. Annalise must have told him to.
Oh, Annalise! Why did you have to turn wrong?
My eyes filled with tears.
“My dear young lady!” the king remonstrated.
“It’s all right, child. I will introduce myself. My name is Josiah Lemuel Pomeroy. I am Evelyn’s father,” the man I’d always called “Grandfather” said. “I’m a retired professor of medicine at the Royal University.”
“Josiah?” Widow Moreau wrinkled her nose. “Josiah?”
I stared at him. The grandfather who wasn’t my grandfather was the professor of medicine whose books I’d grown up reading?
Well, who else could have written them?
King Leopold bowed. “I am honored to meet you, Dr. Pomeroy,” he said. “If I recall rightly, you treated my mother in her illness before she died, these eighteen years ago.”
Grandfather nodded. “That is true. I remember.”
He came to my side and squeezed my hand.
“I have a favor to ask of Your Majesty,” Grandfather said.
“Anything you wish,” King Leopold replied.
“We need the ship’s captain to perform a marriage.”
Aidan and I looked at each other, then looked away. What on earth? Did they intend to make an honest liar out of me?
“What do you say, Eulilly?”
I gaped at Widow Moreau. Her hands still pushed the broom, but her eyes were soft.
“All I can say, Lem Pomeroy,” she said, “is that it’s taken you long enough to come around. I never have known a more stubborn man, and that’s a fact.”
Chapter 49
I left my new room in the castle and ran down the corridor to the stairs.
“Excuse me,” I said to a serving girl—the first one I’d met when I arrived at the castle. “Which way is it to the chapel?”
She hoisted her tray up higher and wedged it into her waist to balance on her hip.
“Down the stairs, turn right, and on till you hear the organ playing. They were setting up for something in there earlier this morning.”
“I know.” I smiled and hurried on.
Mistress is happy today.
Clair was tucked in my pocket. I was happy to hear from him. Since his ordeal in the sea he’d done little but sleep. I hoped it would speed his healing.
The little chapel was full of flowers. Sweet organ music filled the room. I ran to the dear friends seated in the pews.
“Prissy!” I cried. “Mr. and Mrs. Hornby. And Miss Jessop. So glad to see you all here!”
Prissy threw her arms around my neck. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said. “I’m so glad the king persuaded your, er, … father to wait.”
Rudolpho and Alfonso appeared, dressed in their pressed red and black suits, and slipped into a pew toward the rear. Rudolpho winked at me, and I waved in reply.
I reached under my collar and pulled out my charms. Love, luck, and snakebite. I owed much to each of them. I wished I could meet the gypsy woman again and tell her so. But I’d fastened the love charm on Widow Moreau early this morning. It was her turn to use it now.
“Something borrowed on a wedding day is good luck,” she’d said cheerily. “I don’t mind a little secondhand love.”
Aidan appeared in the chapel doorway, dressed in a new suit, with his hair combed back. The bruises on his face were purple and green today. I needed to find time to work on those and get them on their way to healing faster. I’d hardly seen him since that night on The Starlight.
“Good morning, Aidan,” I said.
“Morning, Evie.”
“I suppose I must congratulate you.”
“And I you.”
I sat down in a pew, and he sat next to me.
“You look very fine today,” I said.
“I look like a street brawler,” he muttered.
I leaned over and placed my hands over his blackened eye. “No, you don’t,” I said. “Why can’t you just accept a compliment?”
He placed his own hand over mine, closed his other eye, and said nothing.
“How goes your work, Aidan?” I asked, grasping for a way to start the conversation.
“The menagerie project’s been dropped,” he said. “The workers have been let go.”
Oh, no. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
Aidan lowered my hand and looked at me.
“No matter,” he said. “King Leopold introduced me to the chief architect at the university. I start next week as the head mason for their new library.”
I squeezed his hand. “What wonderful news!”
He tried not to look too pleased.
“You will be the greatest stonemason in all Pylander someday, laddie. I’m sure of it.”
We sat and listened to the music.
“I’ve been thinking, Aidan,” I said.
“Hmm?”
“With your mother marrying my father, does that make us brother and sister?”
He scowled. “It had better not.”
The king appeared in the rear of the chapel, thronged by a quartet of guards. He was never without them these days.
“The king’s been awfully attentive to you lately,” Aidan observed. “I suppose you and he have had time to decide upon all the wishes and favors he’s going to grant you.”
“Leopold has been tremendously kind,” I said. “It was his insistence that we hold the wedding here.”
“A wedding’s a wedding, wherever you hold it,” Aidan said.
“Must you be so ill-tempered, Aidan Moreau?” I said. “On today of all days!”
The music changed, and I turned to see the bride and groom, standing in the rear of the chapel. The tribe of royal tailors had done themselves proud in Widow Moreau’s rose-colored dress. I could only imagine her sharp tongue at their fitting sessions.
And Grandfather. I had decided that was what I would always call him. He supported Widow Moreau’s arm with one of his, and stuck out his chest proudly.
Priscilla and Mrs. Hornby made no pretense of hiding their handkerchiefs as they dabbed their eyes. Nor did I.
We stood to greet the lovebirds as they walked down the aisle and stood before the priest. He welcomed us, and the cantor sang, and the ceremony began.
No royal wedding could compete with this one for sweetness, however beautiful the princess bride might be, however handsome her kingly groom. I thought I’d swell to bursting with love for Grandfather. And Widow Moreau. Though I really couldn’t call her that anymore after today. What would I call her? Mother? It didn’t matter. After all we’d been through, our family was together. And I realized, there in the chapel pew, that we had already been a family for a long, long time.
“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.
Grandfather and Widow Moreau, or Mrs. Pomeroy, as I should say, turned around slowly and beamed at us. Grandfather, looking nervous, leaned toward his bride.
Mrs. Pomeroy dropped her bouquet and threw her arms around him.
The bride kissed the groom. He didn’t seem to mind.
We all rose up, clapping and cheering and laughing. A pair of young girls from the castle scattered rose petals down the aisle, and the newlyweds made their way o
ut of the chapel to jubilant organ music.
“May I?” Aidan held out his arm, and I let him lead me down the aisle. We embraced the bride and groom, and everyone else there, and stood there watching and laughing and smiling until my cheeks were sore.
We were a small wedding party, but King Leopold had spared no expense for us. Servers in starched uniforms led us to a private room decked with flowers and tables of food. French doors opened onto a terraced garden with benches. A string quartet, stationed in one corner, played elegant, stately music, until Widow Moreau told them to liven it up a bit, which they obligingly did.
I danced in a circle around Grandfather, ate dainties and cake, and even kissed the priest on his cheek. I felt in love with the entire world. Even King Leopold danced with me to a little roundelay. It was kind of him to stay for the entire wedding, I thought. He’d taken quite a shine to Grandfather.
I left the king dancing with a blushing Priscilla, and looked for Aidan. He wasn’t there.
I went outside and roved around the gardens. He sat on a bench, shielded by sculptured shrubs, facing down across the park and out to sea.
I tiptoed as quietly as I could toward him and placed my hands over his eyes. He didn’t flinch, but took my hands in his and pulled me around the bench until I fell into the seat beside him. I looked for some merriment in his expression, and was surprised to find none.
We sat together in silence. It began to grow awkward. Who could read this boy? Not I!
Aidan broke the silence. “You’ll be staying on at the castle, I take it?”
I fixed my eyes upon the sea. “I’ll be living with my father and stepmother in their new home. Grandfather’s old chambers at the university.”
“What?”
“Prissy’s coming too,” I said. “We shall study with Grandfather this year, and enroll in classes next year.”
Aidan seemed to be breathing rapidly, a flush spreading under his purple bruises.
“But … you’ll be spending a lot of time at the castle, all the same,” he said.
“I don’t see why I would.”
Aidan’s lower jaw was working. I wondered what idea he was chewing on, but I figured the best way to find out was to wait.
“What did you tell the king you wished for most, Evie?” Aidan said.
“I asked for Grandfather’s quarters back for him, and his place of honor restored at the university.”
Aidan watched me sideways. “And?”
“And what?” I said. “That was the extent of it.”
He wouldn’t look at me. “And did he ask you anything?”
King Leopold did ask me something, and only one person in a thousand would say I wasn’t a fool for how I answered.
I hoped I was sitting next to that person.
“He did,” I said, “and that conversation will remain private.”
Aidan’s face flushed as red as the rose petal he was grinding to a mash underneath the heel of his boot. Oh, but he was ruddy perfect, bruises and all.
“I suppose there’ll be many more of those private conversations.”
“I suppose you invited the Rumsens to the wedding,” was my retort. “I wonder why they didn’t come? I was so hoping to see Dolores again.”
“I did no such … oh, you!”
“What is it you want, Aidan Moreau?” I said. “Why don’t you ask me now, instead of pestering me all day?”
He turned toward me and gazed full at me. Suddenly I had no more quick jabs to offer. I looked back at him and felt I was seeing him for the first time. Familiar, yes. Handsome. But there was so much more to my childhood fishing partner now.
“I never thanked you for coming after me, Aidan.” My voice felt small. “You risked yourself to rescue me.”
His eyes never left mine. “I would do it again.”
I knew he would. I squeezed his hand. “I hope you’ll never need to.”
He caught my hand in his, and then in one swift movement pulled me close, and kissed me.
But once he’d started, he took his time.
The bench, the ground, the castle gardens fell away from under me as his warm lips drew mine in and held me. Nothing, not even riding the ocean waves, felt this thrilling, or this free.
Clair awoke in my purse. Fish? he said. Nice fish?
Go swim, Clair, I said. I’ll meet you later. He didn’t need to be told twice.
Aidan paused to watch my leviathan crawl across the flagstones and down toward the beach. Then he wrapped his arms around me, cradled me close, and rested his cheek against mine.
“Evie?”
I felt shy of him, and so safe with him, both together. “Hmm?”
“What I want is another swimming lesson.”
I smiled. “It’ll be awfully cold. For you.”
“I need to learn, though, if I’m going to keep up with you.”
At last he released me, rose, and held out his hand. I took it, and together we headed back into the party. Before we entered, though, he paused to finger the charms around my neck. “Your love charm is gone,” he said. “You never needed it, you know.”
I thought of King Leopold, and Alfonso and Rudolpho, and the lads back in Maundley. “You can’t deny that it worked.”
“Not on me.” He traced his finger over my face, down my nose, and tapped my lips. “Evie, there’s something else I want from you.”
Even as warm and comfortable as I was with him, I felt a moment’s nerves. What could he want? Maybe we’d better hurry inside.
“I want your snakebite charm,” he said. “Just in case.”
Acknowledgments
This book wouldn’t exist without two friends who opened their homes and offered me a quiet sanctuary. Margaret Lazenby and Julie Keenan, I cannot thank you enough.
I’m grateful to my posse of devoted advisors, Diane Sampson, Whitney Johnson, Julia Blake, Jamie Larsen, Cindy Jermasek, Ron Scott, and again, Julie Keenan.
Ginger Johnson read draft after draft. Michelle Nagler’s patience, insight, and encouragement sustained me. Alyssa Eisner Henkin was always in my corner. And a special basket of love goes to Vermont College of Fine Arts, the faculty, the alumni writers’ community, and, in particular, the unstoppable Cliffhangers.
I put my husband, Phil, through the heavy-duty cycle this year, and still he comes out, wash after wash, sparkly fresh and wrinkle-free. Thank you, Joseph, Daniel, Adam, and David, for fixing meals and loading the dishwasher. (Someday you’ll thank me.) To the Vosler family, thank you for adopting me. To my litter of siblings, and my adorable mother, I love you a bushel and a peck.
ALSO BY JULIE BERRY
The Amaranth Enchantment
Copyright © 2010 by Julie Berry
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First published in the United States of America in October 2010
by Bloomsbury Books for Young Readers
E-book edition published in October 2010
www.bloomsburyteens.com
For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to
Permissions, Bloomsbury BFYR, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
The Library of Congress has cataloged the hardcover edition as follows:
Berry, Julie.
Secondhand charm / by Julie Berry.—1st U.S. ed.
p. cm.
Summary: On her journey to the royal university to become a doctor, fifteen-year-old Evie, wearing potent gypsy charms, learns of her monstrous inheritance.
ISBN 978-1-59990-511-2 (hardcover)
[1. Fantasy. 2. Leviathan—Fiction. 3. Sea monsters—Fiction. 4. Orphans—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B461747Se 2010 [Fic]—dc22 2010008281
ISBN 978-1-59990-648-5 (e-book)
Table of Content
s
Cover
Add Card
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Acknowledgments
