Annabel could have disagreed, but she didn’t have the energy. “All right, what do we need to do today, then?”
What they needed to do was a great deal, much to Annabel’s secret relief. The business of making sure there was enough explosive, easily accessible weapons, and food supplies kept her out of the Melchior’s way. He always seemed to be just around the corner when she least expected him to be, today. Aware that she would have to speak to him sooner or later, Annabel preferred to put off that meeting until later, and continued relentlessly with the preparations. Nobody seemed to be concerned about opening the classroom doors, so most of the girls crowded in the parlours to play old maid and jackstraws, presided over by the watchful teachers, and it was an easy matter to dart about the school without being seen by anyone but the servants, who had developed a watchful sort of look to them. They knew Trenthams, and they knew mischief when they saw it, and they wanted nothing to do with it. Annabel didn’t blame them. She would have preferred to be out of it, too; but since she couldn’t be, she was determined at least not to think about Melchior.
By the time early evening came, she had almost been successful. Much to her relief, Melchior had vanished entirely from the school halls, and she didn’t have to peer about so anxiously every time she walked through a doorway.
“Oh good!” said Isabella, when they met in the dining hall. “You’re looking much less hunted now, Nan! By the by, there’s no need to tell Melchior about our little problem, I think. Raoul has already started to get an inkling, and no doubt he’ll already have reported it to Melchior.”
Annabel let out a breath. “Did you do everything you needed to do? Shall we go back to our suite now?”
“No, I think not,” said Isabella decidedly. “I rather think I have another engagement. You go ahead, if you’re finished.”
Annabel was suspicious, but not, she very soon learned, in the way that she ought to have been suspicious. When she returned to the suite, fancying herself safe, the first thing she saw was Melchior, lounging comfortably in one of the windows.
Annabel jumped convulsively. “What are you doing in here? You’re not allowed to be in our suite!”
“What distinction,” began Melchior, strolling toward her, “No, don’t run away, Nan; I’d only chase you—what distinction do you make between you sneaking into my suite and me sneaking into yours?”
“Oh,” said Annabel, trying not to clear her throat, “well, I only come to your suite when I need something.”
“I see,” Melchior said, a smile playing around his lips. “And exactly what was it you needed from me yesterday morning?”
“Oh,” said Annabel again. It really was very hard not to clear her throat. “Well, you’d been injured—”
“Indeed. We will have to discuss the circumstances of my being injured a little later, I believe. I was injured…?”
“Yes, and I had to make sure you were all right.”
“I feel very healthy,” Melchior said. His eyes were glittering—with laughter, Annabel was sure. Was he actually teasing her? “Invigorated, in fact. What else, Nan?”
“All right, I kissed you!” Annabel said grumpily. “I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry, and I won’t do it again!”
Blankly, Melchior asked, “I beg your pardon?”
“I said I won’t do it again!”
“I don’t accept that.”
Annabel blinked. “No, but I promise, Melchior! I won’t do it again.”
“That seems problematic,” responded Melchior, with the air of a man belabouring his point, “given the amount of time we’ll be spending together in the very near future.”
“Yes, but I promised, and I really do think—”
“Nan!” exasperatedly said Melchior, “I’m trying to tell you that I love you and want to marry you!”
Annabel was conscious of a delightful relief. Melchior had really kissed her back, and it wasn’t because he felt sorry for her, or because he had been startled. “Well, that’s all right,” she said, bright with relief. “I don’t think I’d want to marry anyone else, actually.”
“You—I beg your pardon?”
“Who else would I marry?”
“I thought—Peter, or—”
“No,” Annabel said decidedly. “Why would I marry Peter while you’re here? Why do you think I told him I wasn’t going to marry him?”
Melchior opened his mouth, closed it, and said plaintively, “I really don’t understand, Nan! Do you mean to say that I could have declared myself at any point this last year and you would have said yes?”
“I’ve been in love with you since you turned out not to be a cat,” said Annabel simply. “I don’t think I quite realised it until I thought you might have died. But I’ve been patting you on the head and clinging around your neck for long enough that I think you might have realised it, Melchior.”
“Do you know how hard I’ve been working to get your attention?”
“Is that what you call it?” Annabel said, unimpressed. Quite a few things were now becoming very clear to her. “Ignoring me, being rude, and deliberately baiting me? I don’t think Belle would call that a proper courtship, and—”
“Understand, if you please, Nan!” Melchior said. “For the last year you have treated me no differently from when I was a cat—in fact, the only time you treated me like a human male these last three years was when you were so furious at me for not being Blackfoot any more. It occurred to me that it would be worth the trouble of bringing you to that state of mind again.”
“Oh, well,” said Annabel. “Well, if it comes to that, I suppose it wasn’t a bad plan. Actually, I’d got so used to having you there all the time that it just didn’t occur to me that things could be any different, so maybe I did need a nudge. I do think you could have been nicer about it, Melchior! I thought last night that you must have realised I’d fallen in love with you, and that you were trying to make some distance between us because you didn’t like me.”
There was that tired, fond look that Annabel was coming to quite like. “Is that why you ran away?”
“I don’t think you should be wondering why a young lady ran away after being kissed,” Annabel said. “Actually. Miss Cornett says that a gentleman never kisses a lady without warning.”
“Is that so?” Melchior’s eyes glittered. “And what does Miss Cornett say about young ladies who kiss gentlemen without warning?”
“She doesn’t say anything about that,” Annabel said, refusing to acknowledge the pinkness of her cheeks by so much as a small throat-clearing. “Isabella is of the opinion that means she approves.”
“Certainly I do,” Melchior said frankly. “And if one may ask, Nan, what sort of warning does Miss Cornett consider to be suitable before a gentleman kisses a lady?”
Annabel, who thought that Melchior had had things his own way for quite long enough, said, “I’ll ask her and let you know.”
“In the meantime,” said Melchior, advancing with the swiftness and silence of Blackfoot, “consider yourself warned, Nan!”
It could have been Melchior who backed her into the window, or it could have been Annabel, with her hands clutching his collar, who pulled him there. Whichever way it happened, the coolness of the window touched Annabel’s shoulders, making a delightful dichotomy of cool and heat between the touch of the glass and the soft pressure of Melchior’s lips against her own; the two warm hands cupping her face.
“Nan,” said Melchior, when at last he pulled away, “I do apologise. I should have allowed you to cling around my neck as much as you chose. Perhaps we can remedy that by—”
“By what?” demanded Annabel, both suspicious and amused. Melchior didn’t reply, and it was slowly borne in on her that he was looking at something through the window over her shoulder.
He sighed regretfully into her temple and said, “I very much fear that the Old Parrasians have decided to make good their threat to commence an all-out attack should Lady Selma prove to be unsuc
cessful. We will have to postpone our discussion until a more opportune time.”
“No!” said Annabel, into his collar. “Tell them to come back later!”
“Nan,” Melchior said, “you know I’d do anything humanly possible for you, but I really don’t think my powers extend to telling an army of Old Parrasians to come back after we’ve finished our discussion.”
“What, a whole army? Really?” Annabel asked, considerably startled. She turned her head and saw with a burgeoning dismay that there were decidedly more Old Parrasians around the school stables and building than she had supposed there to exist. Worse, some of them were certain to be the magic users that Lord Tremare had mentioned. With an annoyance she hoped would hide the breathlessness of her voice, she said, “Well it’s rude, anyway! I suppose they came from the stables; we were afraid they might do that, but we couldn’t find the passageway.”
Melchior grinned in spite of the paleness of his face. “Perhaps if you tell them off, they’ll go away in disgrace.”
“I suppose I’d better let Isabella know,” Annabel said glumly. “She probably already knows, but we’ll have to start up our defences.”
“Our—we have defences?”
“Oh yes,” said Annabel, turning decisively to the door. “We thought it wouldn’t be long before they did something like this, and we couldn’t be sure exactly where they’d come from because Alice hasn’t woken up yet. I don’t think Belle expected something so large scale. I wonder if we’ve got enough resources to deal with it?”
“How long has the Firebrand had to prepare?”
“About a day and a half,” Annabel said. “But if comes to that, I think she already had a plan for just this circumstance, in case we needed it.”
“A day and a half is more than enough when the Firebrand has the bit between her teeth,” said Melchior, with certainty. He followed her out into the hall. “I’ve my own resources, of course; and if I can manage to get a message through to Mr. Pennicott, we may just be able to hold out for long enough. As it turns out, I was too busy chasing a certain queen heir around the halls to send out a message as soon as I was on my feet. How long do you think we can hold out?”
“At least a day or two,” Annabel said. “More, if we can retreat floor by floor without anyone getting in at the windows.”
“Don’t worry about the windows,” said Melchior, with a particularly grim smile. “I may not have suspected the extent of the threat that was coming, but I didn’t like the idea of people being able to climb in and out of the school building at will, so that’s taken care of. It’s a shame I didn’t have time to lay a few traps around the doors, but we’ll have to shift as best we can without that.”
“Well, we were making explosive in the library last night, so—”
“Then I suppose we can only be thankful that you didn’t blow the place up!”
“Actually, the rule with explosives is Safety First,” Annabel told him. “Because Nice Young Ladies need all of their limbs to pour tea.”
“Not to mention their usefulness in lock picking,” said Isabella’s voice. She appeared around the corner a moment later, as beautifully dressed and coiffed as ever, despite the army outside. Perhaps, even, because of the army outside. “What beautiful timing you have, Nan! I trust you and Delysia had an enjoyable evening planting our lovely bundles strategically about the place?”
“I thought,” said Melchior, in failing tones, with his eyes shut, “that you were gardening last night.”
“Isn’t it lucky,” said Annabel to Melchior, without regarding his plaint, “that Delysia is so very good at explosives? I didn’t know a talent for snuff-mixing could be so versatile!”
Melchior opened his eyes again, but he still looked ill. “Are there really parcels of explosive hidden around the grounds?”
“It’s all perfectly safe,” Isabella said airily. “That’s thanks to Delysia, too. She’s made something she calls magical immediacy fuses; they’re connected to the explosive and set them off with a single touch of a button. Nothing will blow up unless we really want it to blow up.”
“Ye-es,” said Annabel slowly. “Only do let’s blow up some of them, Belle! It was such a lot of work, and what a waste not to use them!”
“We’re going to need all we can use to keep that lot off,” Isabella said, nodding at the windows. “I shouldn’t worry about that, if I were you.”
“I’m worried,” said Melchior. “I’m worried! I’ll have you know, Nan, that before I met you, I wasn’t possessed of so much as a single grey hair. This morning, I discovered three. Three!”
“Two of those are probably because your hat spell didn’t work,” Annabel remarked. “And you can’t really blame us for that.”
Melchior closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. “I would like to remind, you, Nan, that the reason the hat spell didn’t work was because you had switched my hat spell with a normal top hat. And if it comes to that, the spell did work! It worked for you and the Firebrand, and I was unfortunate enough to be taken captive.”
“How on earth could we know that you would be taken captive?” protested Annabel. “At least you have magic! Belle and I don’t have a bit between us—”
“—not strictly true—”
“Not much between us, anyway; and if you can’t tell the difference between a top hat with a Don’t See on it and a properly spelled top hat, I think there’s something wrong with your magic.”
“That might have been my fault,” Isabella said, a little guiltily. “I may have threaded just the tiniest dab of magic into the hatband—just enough to make it look like the spell we put on it was a lot stronger than it actually was.”
“Oh, you might, might you?” Melchior looked at her balefully. “I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, Firebrand, but no more! And if the Old Parrasian army isn’t inclined to go away without an hostage, I warn you that I will hand you over without a second thought!”
By the time they got to the dining hall, almost all of the girls and teachers had assembled already, pale, frantic, and each speaking over the other in their panic. The Awesome Aunts were still entirely, conspicuously absent, but Miss Cornett was vainly trying to keep the situation from descending into a rabble, and when she saw Melchior with Annabel and Isabella, she looked almost sick with relief.
“Girls! I thought you were outside!”
“We’re safe,” Annabel said, smiling at her. Miss Cornett might be fluttery and sometimes annoying, but she was also rather lovely. “Do you think you can get everyone’s attention? We have an announcement.”
“An announcement? Surely, girls—er, your hi—Miss Ammett—surely there are more important things at the moment?”
“That’s what it’s about,” Annabel said. “We were a bit worried that something like this might happen, so we’ve been preparing. We need to let everyone know where to go to keep them safe.”
“Not to worry, your highness,” said Raoul, startling her by appearing by her side. “I’ve got a few of the Guards and some footmen who want to help as well. We’ll get their attention for you.”
Without further warning, he put two fingers in his mouth and gave vent to the most piercing whistle Annabel had ever heard. A shocked, wincing silence fell over the assembled girls, and someone said, “Ouch.” One by one, their gazes fell naturally on Annabel.
She looked around at the sea of faces and felt a momentary panic. If she wasn’t able to keep off the Old Parrasians and their wizards, there was a good chance that most of the girls would be hurt. She swallowed the panic and said in a louder voice than she’d meant to use, “You’ve all got to go upstairs to the Sanatorium. There’s an army of Old Parrasians out there, and they’ll try to use you as hostages if they can. Don’t let them. Go upstairs and stay safe—Miss Cornett will go with you. Don’t come downstairs no matter what you hear happening.”
“Make an orderly line!” said Miss Cornett, as if they were simply lining up for carriages at an o
uting. “And march, ladies!”
As the girls marched into the next room and toward the stairs, Raoul drew closer with Dannick and Melchior, the footmen crowding behind him. He said, “I really don’t think we ought to try to defend this room. It’s too big and we can’t protect the stairway from here.”
“No, no,” said Isabella, in a businesslike manner, “all of the blunderbusses are in the main hall, behind the sofa where the windows face out. I put them there last night while Nan and Delysia were planting explosive. There are a few pikes, too; but I really don’t think we’ll need those.”
“We can defend the stairs from there, too,” Annabel said.
They followed Miss Cornett and the girls into the hall, where Melchior and Raoul swiftly paced the length of the outer facing windows and the guards helped the footmen to bring out the blunderbusses.
“They’re still trying to get in at the front doors,” said Melchior, glancing carefully around the curtains. “We’ll need a blunderbuss at every window, behind the curtains where they won’t be able to see you.”
“We haven’t got enough people for every window,” Dannick said. “Unless Miss Farrah or Miss Ammett can handle a blunderbuss?”
“Alas!” said Isabella. “It’s a skill I never learned! I shall fetch shot and powder instead.”
“I’ll take one of the windows,” Annabel said, “but I’ll use the staff. It’s no use using a blunderbuss when I’ve got that.”
“I’ll take one,” said a voice from the now-empty stairway behind them. A single figure came back down in wake of the general exodus, her steps light and unconcerned. Annabel turned to tell the new arrival that she would have to join the others upstairs, when she recognised who it was.
It was Lady Caroline. So she hadn’t disappeared with Lady Selma.
“What are you doing?” Annabel said, in astonishment. Was Lady Caro here to spy on them and wait for a chance to let the Old Parrasians in, or merely to sabotage their efforts?
“What do you mean, what am I doing here? An army of Old Parrasians is trying to take over Trenthams.”
Staff & Crown Page 33
