by Garth Nix
“Lucy. This is my cousin the Chevalier Henri de Vienne, the young man I told you about.”
Truthful looked sharply at Lady Badgery, who ignored her.
“Make your bow to Lady Otterbrook, Chevalier,” she said.
Truthful obeyed automatically, almost emptying the contents of the hatbox by accident as she did so.
“We are going to have take a dish of tea in the parlour you so kindly allowed me,” said Lady Badgery. “And catch up on family gossip. Then I fear the Chevalier has an engagement in . . . in Portsmouth and must ride on.”
“Alas,” said Lady Otterbrook. “Can you not stay to dine, Chevalier?”
“I fear not, my lady,” said Truthful gruffly. “I am spoken for . . . ah . . . elsewhere.”
“Never mind,” declared the Marchioness. “Oh, Ermintrude, if you should see Lady Truthful, I would be glad to drink a glass of ratifia with her before dinner, in my own parlour.”
“I will tell her,” said Lady Badgery. “She will be delighted!”
Truthful sent her a horrified glance, but again Lady Badgery ignored her, pushing her along and up the great staircase. As they passed Lady Otterbrook, the two old ladies bowed and Truthful, clumsily bowing a moment too late, thought she detected the slight quirk of a smile in the corner of the Marchioness’s mouth.
Inside the saloon, Lady Badgery settled herself comfortably on the sofa and patted the cushion next to her invitingly. Truthful sat woodenly, the hatbox in her lap.
“What have you been doing now?” asked Lady Badgery. She did not sound angry, only curious.
“I killed Agatha!” said Truthful and burst into tears. “I touched her with my bracelet and she died! Major Harnett said she was part-fay!”
“Oh,” said Lady Badgery, considerably taken aback. “Did you become the chevalier in order to kill Agatha?”
“No, no,” sobbed Truthful. “I didn’t know she was here. I just wanted to do something, to help find the Emerald, and no-one would let me! And now I am a murderess!”
“You are not a murderess!” snapped Lady Badgery. “I do not suppose you meant Agatha to die?”
“I shot her with a pistol first, only the ball bounced off her,” said Truthful. “But she would have killed Major Harnett!”
“Ah,” said Lady Badgery. “Major Harnett is involved.”
“Yes,” said Truthful. “He was trying to arrest her, but she hid in a wall and then came out with a knife, and then such talons—”
“Clearly it was very necessary to kill her,” said Lady Badgery.
“I suppose so,” said Truthful, her sobs slowing. “But it is a most awful feeling, Aunt, you cannot imagine.”
“On the contrary,” said Lady Badgery comfortably. “I have killed dozens of people.”
“Dozens!”
“I am not sure of the exact number,” mused Lady Badgery. She hesitated, then said crossly, “I suppose I must tell you all my secrets. But they are not to be shared, understand, not with anyone. Not even with your Major Harnett.”
“He is not my Major Harnett,” said Truthful, new tears welling up despite her best efforts to dash them away. “He is Miss Gough’s, and I am only crying because of the shock of killing Agatha.”
“I know, dear,” said Lady Badgery. “As to the impressive score of deaths that may be laid at my door, they all occurred in the six years I lived as a man, in the Army, as a lieutenant to my beloved Badgery. All were in battle, you understand. Oh, there was one duel, but that was an accident. I barely nicked him but he later died of an infection.”
Truthful had stopped crying at the phrase “six years I lived as a man” and was staring at her great-aunt, her green eyes very wide indeed.
“You lived as a man?” she asked, incredulous.
Lady Badgery smiled.
“We were just married, and Badgery was sent to America, to fight the French and then the rebels,” she said. “He did not want to leave me behind, and I did not want to be left. I could not accompany him as his wife, so I went as his lieutenant. It was a most instructive time. Remember I told you that there were many reasons people may adopt a masquerade?”
“No one ever guessed?” asked Truthful.
“Some people may have guessed, but they held their tongues,” said Lady Badgery. She had a far-away look in her eyes, and a pensive smile. “In our day Badgery and I were sorcerers of the first order, and together our glamours were all but impenetrable, extending even to . . . well, they were extremely durable, shall we say?”
A thought suddenly crossed Truthful’s mind, a most terrifying thought, even more so than picturing Lady Badgery as a young lieutenant.
“Hasn’t Parkins been with you since you were married?” she asked.
Lady Badgery smiled again.
“Sergeant Harkins she was in those days,” she said. “She had the most remarkable beard. I wonder if she still has it? We must ask her one day. But enough of these maudlin recollections of time long past. Tell me exactly what has happened, and then you must return to being Lady Truthful and go to Lady Otterbrook. She has something of importance to tell you, I believe.”
“I don’t understand,” said Truthful. “I hardly know . . . surely it is not about the time Lord Otterbrook forced my coach from the road? He did offer to take me up in his curricle, but he quickly apologised when he realised it would not do . . .”
“No, it is not that,” said Lady Badgery. “But tell me what has occurred! And why do you have a mermaid’s head in that hatbox? Your Diana costume is far more becoming.”
“Oh it is not mine,” said Truthful. “Agatha had it. It can’t imagine it was her own, either. Look, there are real emeralds among the scales . . .”
She faltered in mid-speech, her mind racing.
“Lady Plathenden! She must plan to go to the Masquerade Ball, disguised as a mermaid!”
“Possible,” mused Lady Badgery. “It is true that she always loved a masked ball, and other opportunities for costume. But why would she wish to attend this particular masquerade?”
“The Prince Regent,” suggested Truthful doubtfully. “Perhaps she wishes to assassinate him? After all, her husband was executed by the Crown.”
“Which really means the government, so she would sooner assassinate the Prime Minister, I expect,” said Lady Badgery. “Like poor Mister Perceval. But I cannot think Lady Plathenden would have any particular hatred for Lord Liverpool. I doubt he will be at the Masquerade, in any case.”
“Can you scry her purpose?” asked Truthful.
Lady Badgery shook her head.
“You forget she has the Emerald. It clouds all such divination. But I suspect you may be right. We must apprise Major . . . we must inform the appropriate authorities that the Prince Regent may be in danger, and to beware a mermaid at the ball. Though I daresay Amelia will change her costume now she is lacking the head. But once again we have strayed from the point. Tell me what happened, Truthful!”
++++
By the time Truthful had finished answering Lady Badgery’s questions she only just had time to become herself again before the dreaded engagement with Lady Otterbrook. However, she did manage to dash downstairs and ask the guard at the front door for news of Harnett, and was relieved when he professed no knowledge of any danger to his superior and his opinion that all was as expected it should be.
This relief did not last long as she ascended the stairs and knocked on the door of Lady Otterbrook’s parlour. Rack her brains as she might, she could not think of any reason why the august Marchioness would want to speak to her.
Nor did Lady Otterbrook immediately inform her, the tension thus building. She offered Truthful ratifia, which she accepted, and spoke some commonplaces about Brighton, which Truthful returned.
Only after some ten minutes of excruciating anticipation did Lady Otterbrook broach the main subject she wished to disclose to Truthful.
“You may wonder why I wished to speak to you, child,” she said. “I do not wonder at it, f
or it is not anything in the usual way.”
Truthful nodded, not daring to speak. She was mortally afraid that Lady Otterbrook was going to denounce her for her masquerade, and become instrumental in having her cast out of society. Not that she cared about that, as she intended to retreat to Newington House in any case, and care for her father in his declining years. But it would be very embarrassing.
“My nephew,” said Lady Otterbrook, “appears to have made a complete mull of the matter, and your great-aunt Ermintrude and I have agreed that enough is enough and so I must step in.”
“Your nephew?” asked Truthful, in a puzzled tone.
“My nephew,” said Lady Otterbrook with a sigh. “I should explain that when he was eighteen he fell most passionately in love with Arabella Thornton. This would be just before the truce of ’03, you understand. I expect you have read or heard about Arabella Thornton?”
“No,” said Truthful, now completely at a loss.
“They were to be married in September,” said Lady Otterbrook, sighing again. “My nephew and Miss Thornton. But then, three days before the wedding, she ran off.”
“Ran off?”
“With a Frenchman!” declared Lady Otterbrook. “Apparently she had been conducting an affaire with him since the previous May. From that time on, my nephew has been perhaps understandably . . . brittle . . . when it comes to women pretending to be other than they are, and also very distrustful of Frenchmen.”
“I don’t understand,” said Truthful. “Are you speaking of Major Harnett? How could he be your nephew?”
“I think perhaps he had best explain that to you himself,” said Lady Otterbrook. She rose to her feet and went to the door, opening it. “I will leave you with him for five minutes. That should suffice.”
“No, no, Your Grace!” protested Truthful, her face going almost as red as her hair. “It isn’t proper. What would Miss Gough think?”
“Charles?” asked Lady Otterbrook, allowing Major Harnett to enter before she swept out.
“I am not acquainted with Miss Gough,” said Charles, bowing to Truthful. He was no longer in sack-cloth, but was once again the elegant gentleman, though Truthful barely noticed the elegant cut of his deep blue coat or the extreme whiteness of his knee breeches and stockings, her eyes going immediately to his handsome face. He looked a little anxious, which prevented Truthful from immediately responding to his outrageous comment.
“I am not acquainted with Miss Gough,” repeated Charles, “because I am not in fact Major Harnett—”
“What?” shrieked Truthful. Realising the volume of her shout she clapped her hands over her mouth and her eyebrows went up in dismay.
“I am actually Charles Otterbrook, Colonel the Viscount Lytchett,” continued Charles. “As I have been trying to tell you for some time!”
Chapter Twenty
The Making of Plans
“I would like to make your acquaintance afresh, Lady Truthful,” said Lord Lytchett, bowing over the hand that she had unconsciously raised to him. He kissed it and added, “And present my apologies for the deception that I initially undertook in the belief that you were a French agent.”
“I understand,” said Truthful stiffly. “Your aunt has explained.”
Lord Lytchett blushed, a curious sight that Truthful had not seen before but found quite charming and made her wholly unbend. She felt she must now have become very pale herself, and close to fainting, her thoughts and feelings as wild as the sea beyond the window, so churned up she was not exactly sure what was uppermost. A sudden, unexpected joy, coupled with annoyance and topped with excitement . . .
“I must also thank you for saving my life. Again,” said Lord Lytchett. “And beg you to join with my officers tonight after dinner to discuss our plans for the capture of Lady Plathenden.”
“Really?” asked Truthful, clapping her hands. Excitement was definitely winning out.
“I have learned my lesson,” said Lord Lytchett. “And I have been spoken to by your great-aunt. As the Chevalier de Vienne or as Lady Truthful, I think you must be part of any action we take to reclaim your Emerald. Indeed, as all our success to date can be laid at your door, it shall be as you asked in your last letter. No details will be kept from you.”
“Thank you,” said Truthful. She hesitated, then added shyly, “Will everything be as I asked in my letter? Will we only meet on the business of the Emerald and Lady Plathenden?”
“I trust not,” said Lord Lytchett decidedly. “I hope you will stand up with me for several dances tomorrow night at the Masquerade?”
“I will,” allowed Truthful, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Perhaps here I might even waltz?”
“Indeed I believe it is unexceptional in Brighton, and you will be masked,” said Lord Lytchett enthusiastically. “May I also say that my . . . my foolishly-offered opinion as to not wanting to marry anyone has undergone a change and in due time I would—”
“Oh!” interrupted Truthful. “Charles, I had forgot! There was a mermaid’s head in Agatha’s hatbox!”
“A mermaid’s head?” asked Charles. He made the connection immediately. “A costume? I must see it!”
Truthful took his hand.
“It’s in my aunt’s parlour. If we hurry there will be just time before dinner.”
She opened the door, surprising Lady Otterbrook who was about to come in. Seeing Truthful’s hand clasped in her nephew’s she exclaimed, “Oh, Charles! Truthful! I am so happy!”
“No, Aunt!” said Charles in passing. “Not what you think, not yet. We’re off to look at a mermaid’s head. And it is all right to combine the dinners!”
“Combine the dinners?” asked Truthful.
“Left-hand and right-hand houses,” said Charles. “I wasn’t sure . . . that is if you didn’t wish to hear me out . . . the fact of the matter is I have your cousins staying here. And the real Major Harnett. My friend James. His book is finished and I have recruited him to join our efforts against Lady Plathenden.”
“Oh, I am pleased his book is finished,” exclaimed Truthful. Even though they were now in Lady Badgery’s parlour, she did not relinquish Lord Lytchett’s hand. “Now he and Miss Gough can marry.”
“He is a capital fellow and I wish him very happy,” said Charles. “Is that the head? Very fancy. Those are small emeralds, are they not? It must be for Lady Plathenden herself.”
“That is exactly what I said to my great-aunt,” said Truthful.
They beamed at each other, pleased at their mutual intelligence.
“So she intends to go to the Masquerade,” mused Charles. “It must be for some fell purpose . . . we have to tell Uncle. He had best warn off the Prince Regent.”
“My thought exactly,” cried Truthful.
“It will be one less thing to concern us,” said Charles. “Though I fear it means we will miss our dancing, Truthful. Unless of course you would rather—”
“No!” protested Truthful. “I will be part of whatever you . . . whatever we plan.”
“The thing is,” said Charles thoughtfully, “if she is going to come to the Masquerade, she will certainly have the Emerald on her person. She may intend to use it, in which case you will be one of the few who might be able to resist its powers. And there lies our opportunity.”
“Our opportunity?” asked Truthful.
“We will finally know exactly where Lady Plathenden and the Emerald are located,” said Charles. “And we can capture both at one fell swoop!”
“Very good,” said Lady Badgery from the door. “Now unhand my great-niece and come downstairs. The dinner gong has sounded twice!”
++++
The dinner, combining the ladies of the right-hand house with the menfolk of the left-hand house was a jubilant affair. Truthful was greeted by her cousins with exuberant tales of their activities in pursuit of Lady Plathenden and her many accomplices, interspersed with apologies from Edmund and Robert for not, after all, going to get her new gemstones as they
had promised in their cups. She was delighted to meet the rather shy Major Harnett, and promised that she would buy copies of his Badajoz Diary for everyone she knew, and wished him very happy with Miss Gough. The Marquis, informed of the possibility of Lady Plathenden somehow attacking his guests seemed rather more pleased than otherwise and had to be constrained by Lady Otterbrook from having another look in his divining fire just in case he could get a glimpse of what might occur.
After the last remove, when it would have been normal for the ladies to retire, the whole company instead moved to the library, where Charles laid out everything that was known about Lady Plathenden’s activities in Brighton, the smugglers, pickpockets and other criminal riff-raff who served her; and the forces of the Crown that might be arrayed for the purposes of her apprehension and the reclamation of the Emerald.
Much discussion was then to be had on the necessity of calling up the militia, the marines from Portsmouth, or even the Sorcery-Eaters of the Tower, but in the end it was decided that Harnett’s existing force of a dozen men and the local constabulary — who had already been drafted in by the Marquis to manage the traffic expected to congregate around the Assembly Rooms of the Old Ship — would suffice, particularly as General Leye was posting down the next morning and would bring half a dozen more men with him and the Sorcerer-Royal, Sir Everard Loraine.
The Prince Regent also had his own guards, but as they would remain with him in the Pavilion, they did not enter into the plans, other than in the necessity of informing their commander of what was going forward, the Marquis indicating that he would ensure this was done, while also speaking with the Prince Regent so he would not venture out and put himself at risk.
It was further decided that while the Newington-Lacys and Major Harnett would remain outside the Assembly Rooms, with their horses nearby in case a pursuit became necessary, Truthful and Charles would go to the Masquerade, it being easier for them as guests to survey the interior than in any other guise.
“I will be there also,” said Lady Badgery. “With cutlass and wand! If Amelia Plathenden comes within lunging distance, I won’t answer for the consequence.”
