“Will I do?” I asked, narrowing my eyes critically at my reflection.
I had a lowering feeling that I was by far too thin for the role: Damson was the slimmest of the maids I had seen, and her healthy figure was nothing short of curvaceous. Vadim must have employed a little of her never-endingly useful magic to fit the uniform to my figure: I was sure the pile of material had been much more voluminous earlier.
“If you wear a cloak no one will notice how slender you are,” Vadim said comfortingly. “Besides, most of them are in bed by now. Some of the footmen are still cleaning silver, and the kitchen maids are scrubbing pots, but they’re all in the kitchen anyway.”
“Unfortunate people!” I remarked. “What a time of day to be cleaning silver and scrubbing pots!”
Vadim sniffed. “Cook thought she saw a mouse. Now she won’t let anyone go to bed until they’ve found it and cleaned every last dish in the kitchen. I think the footmen are planning on murdering her with the soup crock.”
I wasn’t surprised. The kitchen staff were up before most of the other servants, heating waffle pans, scraping crepe irons; and, in short, making life comfortable for everyone else at the expense of their own early morning sleep.
“If I hear the shrieks of the victim, I shall use the distraction to my own advantage,” I said, curling my lip slightly. I was feeling too tightly wound to appreciate the humour of it: I wanted to be doing and done. I hadn’t felt this much apprehension since Annabel and I were at school.
“Is he-”
“He’s asleep. The backup wards took over a few moments ago.”
I drew in a long breath through my nose. “Very well. I’ll be as swift as I can, but if morning approaches and I haven’t returned, I am asleep to all enquiries, up to and including the breakfast tray.”
“My lady is not at home to callers,” nodded Vadim, spoiling her surprisingly proficient manner with a smirk.
“Exactly.” I tucked a single telltale red lock back into my cap and gave myself one last look in the mirror. “Make sure Damson isn’t admitted, won’t you?”
Goodness knew I didn’t need a fire laid even during the uncertain autumn, but nothing would convince Damson of that fact, despite my protestations. On particularly warm nights I had taken to locking my door in self defence, which served me very well now.
Vadim grinned again. “Yes, lady. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what, precisely?”
“I thought you might like something extra,” she explained. “I know a Look-Away spell. It won’t last more than a few minutes, but it’ll help.”
“Vadim, have I told you lately what a treasure you are?”
“Yes, lady.” This time Vadim’s grin was demure.
“Allow me to mention it again. You may proceed.”
The spell was short and to the point, and it was not long before I was setting out assuredly down the stairs to the umbrella stand. There was a familiar bulge in the hidden pocket of my cloak, another of Keenan’s gifted spells. I found myself somewhat touched by their care.
I might as well have spared myself the anxious thoughts attending my escape from Pecus Manor: not a soul wandered the corridors to test Vadim’s Look-Away spell. Fastening my borrowed mask at the entrance of the Manor, I wondered whether I was disappointed or relieved. At all events, my egress from the gates of Pecus Manor was as uneventful as my exit from the Manor itself, proving that even the best security is only as good as its weakest point. If Lord Pecus didn’t utterly disown me for this night’s work, I would have to mention the matter to him. In a helpful spirit, of course.
Susan was waiting for me outside the gate, dressed in charcoal tones that caused her to melt away into the shadows in which she stood. The first indication of her presence was a stir of movement in the air, and then an arm was flung around my shoulders companionably. A moment later I could pick out the light, one-horse buggy she must have hired to carry us.
“The Adventurers go forth again, eh?”
“Very nice, Su!” I said, looking her over with raised brows. “Where have you been obtaining your clothes?”
She shrugged one shoulder elegantly. “Emmett knows a lovely little man in Piccon Street. He introduced me.”
“You’ll have to do me the same kindness,” I remarked, following the line of her coat with a professional eye. Despite the charcoal hue, it looked to be light and cool in the warmth of the night. “Where is Emmett, by the bye? I quite expected to see him tonight.”
Moonlight showed a wary gleam to Susan’s eyes. She vaulted into the driver’s seat and took the reins.
“The lummox is snoring in the barracks.”
“Very wise of you,” I said approvingly, climbing into the buggy. Emmett would no doubt have had a difficult choice between care of Susan and apprehension of a wanted, purportedly treasonous earl, if he had been included.
“What about the Beast Lord?”
“Asleep also. However, if my memory of Dory Brown serves, I rather doubt that he is snoring.”
“One of these days, Belle, you’re going to have to tell me about Dory Brown.”
“Certainly not: you’re far too young and innocent. Is everything arranged?”
“I’m hurt you have to ask. The earl will be waiting for you by the fountain, alone; and he’s made it clear that he expects you to be likewise.”
“Where will you be?”
She shrugged, a slight movement of darkness against the moon. “A few streets away. If you need me, scream.”
“I shall do nothing of the sort! I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
“When you’re tongue-lashing, yes,” Susan said, turning slightly to grin at me. “Physical assault, perhaps not so much.”
I was tempted to reply somewhat heatedly, but the truth of the matter is that I usually do rely upon words to wriggle myself out of unpleasant situations, and it seemed disingenuous to deny the fact. Besides, I had a small dagger somewhat excitingly sheathed in my garter, which I could reach by the simple expedient of slipping my hand through a cut I had made in my left skirt pocket. Well, it was somebody’s lefthand pocket, anyway: I would have to sew it up again before Vadim returned the garment. In any case, if it came to unpleasantness, I didn’t doubt that I could look after myself without having to scream for my athletically superior younger sister.
“This is close enough,” I said, when we reached the Upper Marketplace. The fountain was a few blocks further in, and I didn’t want to risk the earl taking flight.
“Sure?” Susan asked lazily. “The earl was already there when I came to fetch you: I think he was jockeying for the best position.”
“And ascertaining that there would be no nasty surprises,” I agreed. “Very well, take me another street closer. One would hope that the earl has none of his own surprises planned.”
Susan threw me a mischievous look over her shoulder. “You know what I’d do?”
“I shudder to think.”
“I’d saunter in casually, just a few minutes late. Make him think I wasn’t worried about anything he can do.”
“Oh, very good, Su! I see you’ve been learning a thing or two.”
“Ah,” she said, not surprised; “That’s what you are going to do, isn’t it?”
“Well, the earl has no reason to kill me – unless one counts slight irritation, of course – and I’ve never liked skulking.”
“What will you ask him about?”
“This and that,” I said provocatively.
“Well, I want to ask him what happened to him at the masque,” said Susan. “I was told something happened with one of Delysia’s footmen, and to think that poor Papa murdered anyone is ridiculous. I talked to some of the people there, and the earl must have been in two places at once if he was with Raoul as well as- you’ve already thought of that, too, haven’t you?”
I shrugged apologetically. “It was a logical jump. Besides, I think Daubney was trying to say something of the kind to me before he was murde
red. Vadim confirmed that for me in a roundabout way, and then, as you so sensibly observed, there is the issue of our little Papa.”
“Who wasn’t where he was said to be, but was branded as if he was,” Susan finished, nodding. “Only, I don’t know of a spell that can do that kind of thing. As a matter of fact, no one I’ve asked knows a spell that can do that kind of thing. Quite frankly, I would have begun to doubt that it existed if it’d been anyone but Papa. What do the Watch think?”
“Oh, one can never tell with Lord Pecus,” I said. “If I were to guess, however, I would say that they’re still working the angle that Raoul was dealing in espionage. I’m more than certain he was looking for the leak himself. Two deceased acquaintances of mine had arranged for a meeting with him, quite unaware that he was feeding them useless information.”
“Funny, I would’ve thought the Beast Lord was cleverer than that.”
“Lord Pecus is of the impression that everything centres on me,” I said primly. “According to him, I’m the focal point around which all other facts spiral.”
“Perhaps he’s not so dull after all. Does he fancy that you’re involved in espionage?”
“Goodness knows.” I thought about it, and laughed suddenly. “Do you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if that really is what he thinks. From his point of view, it would make sense.”
Susan shot me a shrewd look. “Oh, have you been poking around that great big manor of his?”
“Not at all! In fact, I have studiously avoided doing so.”
“Suspicious of you,” said Susan solemnly, shaking her head.
“Wasn’t it, though? I’ve been having an immense amount of fun!”
“Still, it doesn’t seem to have discouraged him at all,” she mused, and I caught the flash of sly humour in her eyes. “Perhaps he thinks he can change your wicked ways.”
“Susan, it’s my disagreeable duty to inform you that you’ve become distressingly pert!” I told her firmly. I gathered my skirts together and disengaged my mask, abandoning it on the seat. “Just here will do nicely, thank you!”
“Spoilsport,” Susan said, with a grin; but she stopped the buggy at my direction. “Sure you’ll be fine, Belle?”
“Perfectly. Mind you keep out of sight, Su: even the main thoroughfares can be dangerous at night.”
She winked, making no promises, and drove away at an easy pace, wooden wheels clattering across the smooth urban cobbles.
Once she was out of sight I drew in a deep, steadying breath, and shook out my skirts. Across the street light spilled out in untidy patches from a public house that traded through the night, and a few raucous snatches of song floated out into the heavy air, tuneless but enthusiastic. Further down the street there would be another pub – most likely several more – supplemented by a few of the seedier cafes that stayed open all night to accommodate late night drinkers; and all in all they provided enough light by which to navigate the streets safely. Unfortunately, the light would not be enough to deter any of the said late-night drinkers from accosting a lone female in the streets, so I kept to the shadowy side of the street where the light was just enough to get by without stumbling. I made a mental note to suggest to the King that his subjects might benefit from the street lamps that Civet employed to ward off the early onset of winter darkness. No doubt the watchmen would be glad for the assistance. And thinking of watchmen, it would probably be as well to avoid any that were on the beat tonight.
The fountain was in deep shadow when I approached, its decorative wings showing sharply black against the dusky night, and the vague light from a few sporadic windows only served to make it difficult for me to see into the shadows. I was a few minutes late, according to plan, and when the earl stepped from the shadows into halflight, it was not so dark that I couldn’t see the line between his brows.
“Lady Farrah.”
“Good evening, my lord. I trust you’re well?”
He gave a surprisingly genuine chuckle, banishing the line. “Not particularly, my lady. Exile seems to be agreeing with my wife, however, so I can’t complain.”
“And Lady Louisa?”
The earl’s eyes darkened. “I haven’t been able to get to her. How is she taking it?”
“Quietly, so far as I’ve been able to ascertain; and with more dignity than I would have supposed,” I said, honestly. I knew Louisa, and so did the earl.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Good, good.”
“Thank you for meeting with me, my lord.”
“Well, it was only sensible,” he said. “But now that you mention it, there is a condition to my meeting with you.”
“You know I can’t promise anything on behalf of Civet- and I certainly can’t comment on behalf of Glause.”
“You misunderstand me, Lady Farrah: I merely want a word in a few influential ears. I know you have the King’s ear; and even I, exiled as I am, have heard that you most certainly have Lord Pecus’ attention. I want to return to my estate with my wife and daughter, with all charges dropped.”
“Nothing too difficult, then, my lord!”
He was unperturbed. “Reaching, certainly, but not unreasonable, I fancy. I believe my information to be quite valuable. Ah- I would, of course, enter willingly into an oath that there will be no more Charles Black. I will live a quiet life with my wife and daughter, resigning my seat in parliament.”
“Your seat in parliament is a hereditary one,” I said. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture, of course, but I feel bound to point out that the king will almost certainly mention the matter.”
“There’s nothing to prevent my not using it, however. I wish to be permitted to live peacefully with my family, without fear that Glausian Watchmen will batter the door down at any moment and carry away my wife and child. All I ask is that you mention the matter to the king.”
“You can hardly be unaware that I am ensconced at Pecus Manor,” I remarked. “I imagine that a word with the king is the very last thing I’m capable of managing at the present.”
“Allow me to say that the information I can offer might help you in that regard.”
I considered this for a moment. I was quite capable of doing what the earl suggested, and more: moreover, I had been fully prepared for such a demand when I arranged to meet with the earl. It seemed sensible to make him sweat for the answer, however, so I allowed the silence to stretch for a moment longer before I nodded decisively.
“Very well: I’ll speak to the king on your behalf. I trust your information will bear out my confidence in you.”
He took that with a small smile and asked: “Lady Farrah, are you aware of my particular hobby?”
“Not as such. I know you dabble in alternatives to traditional magic, and Louisa mentioned dynamos in one of our conversations. I must admit to a little, ahem, investigation of your waterfall room at this point.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “I wondered if you understood the significance of the room. The water interferes with the constant magical surveillance the king has on me, but doesn’t affect my own gadgets. In fact, some of them require the water as a power source.”
I briefly showed him the dynamo that Keenan had recently re-acquired from Lord Pecus’ rooms.
“One of yours, I suppose?”
“It’s one of my more compact, potent power sources, usually for use in a small, handheld communication device. Not, however, one that was in use by myself. Some years ago several dynamos were stolen, and a receiver high in the mountains disappeared briefly before appearing again.”
“The king?”
“Yes- not that he’ll ever admit it. Unfortunately it didn’t occur to me that the thief would use them to follow my career. Obviously I’ll have to invent a device for finding any of my own gadgets.”
“The dynamo was attached to something similar to a detached commlink, I take it?”
“A little. But in this case, both parties have a device, and no magic is used. Sound waves are translated into a kind of e
nergy not unlike magic, and this energy bounces off a receiver somewhere between the two, continuing on to the next person. I mention the matter, Lady Farrah, to make it easier for you to understand what I’m about to tell you next.”
“Very well,” I nodded, my brain buzzing with ideas. What a boon for a person without magic! Lord Pecus would be fascinated! Well, if Lord Pecus were in the mood to be fascinated with anything I might say, that is.
“Before the fracas began with Raoul, I’d been busy inventing a device which would be useful to me in my er, less legal ventures.”
“Less patriotic ventures,” I corrected.
The Earl of Horn said firmly: “There we must agree to disagree, Lady Farrah. I have always had what I consider to be the best interest of my country and her people at heart. This time I must gracefully bow to the will of the people.” He did so, ironically.
“This device I mentioned was what you might call, for the sake of clarity, a scrying mirror.”
“Non-magical, I presume?” I said, with some interest.
The earl bowed again slightly, this time less ironically. “Naturally. You may have noticed that I was wearing a pair of pince-nez by a ribbon around my neck on the night of the masque?”
I consulted my memory and was able to inform the earl with perfect truth that I did, indeed, remember.
He beamed at me as though I was a star pupil, and explained: “The trick is in the two lenses, my dear. Light flows through them constantly, recording a kind of moving picture for me to play back later if the need arises.”
“Eminently useful for your average political spy,” I murmured, and was rewarded with a twinkle in the earl’s shrewd old eyes. “Imagine the ramifications of presenting evidence of the kind of underhanded, ever-so-slightly illegal dealings between parliament members! All the little cliques and conspiracies exposed with devastating clarity! It doesn’t bear thinking of! Frankly, I’m surprised that you’ve not used the device in any of our conversations.”
Masque (The Two Monarchies Sequence) Page 30
