“What nonsense!” he muttered and reached for a piece of cake.
Much later, when Miss Finn went out to collect the tray she found her dear Mr Thackeray still in the garden as the sky darkening around him and he chatted away to himself. The housekeeper sighed sadly. She didn’t think he was mad, like Hetty said: just lonesome.
She had known Gilbert since he was a little lad, bereft after the death of his parents. The poor boy had gone from a loving, happy home to the grim silence of his grandfather’s estate and then off to boarding school. It was hardly surprising he should feel lonely.
“Ah, Mrs Finn!” Gilbert called as he spotted the housekeeper. “Could I trouble you for a blanket?”
“A blanket, Mr Thackeray?”
“Yes, we … I thought it might be just the evening for looking at the stars.”
“Don’t you usually have your star-gazing gubbings for that?” she asked. “A blanket’s a new one on me.”
Gilbert smiled fondly at the older woman. “Mrs Finn,” he said, “you are quite correct. I do indeed usually require my ‘star-gazing gubbins’. But, tonight, I wish to see the them in all their panoramic glory, laid out before me in an endless, timeless reminder of my own insignificance.”
Mrs Finn frowned worriedly. “Now then, Mr Thackeray, there’s no need for glumness.”
“Glumness, Mrs Finn?” Gilbert laughed. “What could be more liberating than knowing that, whatever one does, whichever path one chooses through life, the universe will still tick on regardless?”
Shaking her head, Mrs Finn picked up the tray. “That’s as may be, Mr Thackeray, but there’s some in this world who wouldn’t ‘tick on’ quite so happily without you.” Having said her piece, the housekeeper bustled off, leaving a baffled looking Gilbert staring after her.
“What on earth was that all about?” he wondered aloud.
“She’s trying to tell you she cares about you, silly!” Clementine chastised. She had seen the look of worry on the housekeeper’s face. She wished she could reassure the woman that Gilbert was not going mad; that he was quite sane. In fact, if she could speak to that dear old woman, she would tell her she - Clementine - had found out, though possibly a little late, that Gilbert Thackeray was the only man in this whole, expanding universe she would ever wish to marry.
As if he had read her thoughts, Gilbert dipped his head as though he might kiss her. Clementine closed her eyes and waited for his lips to touch hers and it was at that very moment, as she awaited her first kiss, that Gilbert’s world was sucked away from her. She was back in the Tower and something was smothering her face. No! Clementine screamed silently as she clawed ineffectually at the air. Her corporeal hands could not help her and her spectral ones simply flailed uselessly about her.
“Clementine!” Gilbert shouted and Mrs Finn let out a cry of alarm and clutched the blanket she had brought out to him.
“Mr Thackeray?” she said, carefully so as not to alarm him; but she quickly realised he had not registered her presence. He looked so wild as he stared fixedly at a spot in the garden. The housekeeper peered into the dimming light but could see nothing amiss. Praying her master was not losing his precious marbles, she determined to stay and watch over him in case he should hurt himself.
Gilbert knew nothing of his housekeeper’s concern as he frantically watched Clementine flicker in and out of focus. He wanted to go to the Palace but it would take too long and he didn’t want to leave her here alone. He could only watch uselessly as the woman he loved fought for her life in front of him.
Clementine had no direct control over her body but still it fought to stay alive just as surely as her spirit. Being near Gilbert meant she could give strength to her body’s unconscious flailings and land blows upon her attacker. She had no way of knowing whether she had struck her target. She could not feel when or what or if she had hit. But each time her body stopped bucking and fighting for breath, she knew the suffocating pressure had eased.
She heard the muffled sounds of a door opening and then she was back in the garden with Gilbert.
He stared at her, his face wracked with frustration, fury and fear. No longer fighting her unseen enemy, Clementine took strength from him. Her spirit steadied and she no longer flashed back and forth between her body in the Tower and her soul in the garden.
“Gilbert Thackeray,” she said calmly, “I think someone is trying to kill me.”
“I know, Clementine.”
“Heavens above! I’m hearing things too now!”
They both turned, just in time to see Mrs Finn crumple to the ground with Gilbert’s blanket still clutched in her hand.
Chapter Fifteen
“Is it real?” she asked anxiously. “Mr Thackeray - tell me I’ve not lost me faculties.”
Gilbert had carried the elderly housekeeper inside and laid her down on the settle. He had covered her with the blanket intended for him and she had come round with a cry of alarm and very nearly passed out again when Clementine asked her if she was feeling any better.
“Yes, she is real, Mrs Finn,” Gilbert reassured her now. “Can you see her as well as hear her?”
“See her!” the housekeeper squawked. “You see her too?”
“Yes. It is the Princess Clementine - but we need to keep that to ourselves.” Mrs Finn struggled to rise. “Please sit down, Mrs Finn”, Gilbert urged her. “You have had quite a shock.”
“I can’t be sitting down when there’s Royalty in the room, Mr Thackeray!” she chastised him.
“There’s no protocol for dealing with a Royal spirit, dear lady,” Clementine told her. “Let us make up our own rules.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the housekeeper said reverentially.
“I’m quite happy for you to call me Clementine.”
“I’ll do no such thing!” Mrs Finn gasped in outrage. “Good heavens, whatever next? I will call you Princess Clementine - as is right and proper!” She stood then, shook out the blanket and folded it. “I’ll say nothing ‘about this but I have to tell you both this is most peculiar.” She leaned in conspiratorially towards Gilbert. “I thought she were … you know ….”
“There’s no need to whisper, Mrs Finn. Princess Clementine is perfectly aware of her situation,” Gilbert teased. “The thing is, you see, the Princess’ body is still in the Tower but her spirit, for want of a better word, is here with us.”
“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” the housekeeper asked, “what were going on back in the garden?”
Gilbert shot a glance at Clementine. “We think someone might be trying to murder the Princess,” he said slowly.
“Heavens above! We can’t have that, Mr Thackeray!”
“ I agree, Mrs Finn: we can’t.”
“Right then: so what’s to be done about it?” the housekeeper demanded, always one to relish having a problem to solve.
“Other than trying to find a cure for the Princess, there’s not a lot that can be done at the moment,” Gilbert said, not bothering to hide his frustration. “I have found nothing so far that has been of much use.”
“But what about her body?” Mrs Finn clucked. “It seems to me that with someone out to do the Princess harm it’s a bit daft to leave her where everyone and his butler knows she lies.”
“There’s not a lot I can do about that either,” Gilbert retorted. “I can hardly bring her here.”
“Now, Mr Thackeray, I’ve known you since you were a lad so don’t be taking any offence when I say I think you’re being a bit of a lackwit.”
Clementine giggled.
“How could I possibly take offence when you put it so charmingly, Mrs Finn?” Gilbert said congenially. “Tell me, is there something I’m missing that you would care to share?”
“Well now,” she replied self-importantly, “the Palace is a big place with hundreds of rooms. I should know: I worked there as a young girl. So my thinking is, why not hide the Princess away in one of them?”
Gilbert realised immediately that his dear old housekeeper was onto something. “You are quite correct, Mrs Finn,” he said, “I am a lackwit!” And then he startled the elderly woman with a hug, “We must hide her body!”
“But who are you hiding it from?” Clementine asked, chuckling at the housekeeper’s flustered expression and Gilbert’s jubilant air.
“For now, with the King gone, I think we should trust only Mrs Lane and Dr Fellowes,” Gilbert replied, turning to the Princess. “What do you think?”
Clementine shrugged resignedly. “I really don’t know,” she said: then shuddered. “I still find it unbelievable that someone I know is trying to kill me; that someone could hate me that much!”
“I know it’s hard, Clementine,” Gilbert said gently, “and we will have to discuss who that person might be, I’m afraid.”
“I suppose so.”
“First things first though,” Gilbert continued, diverting Clementine from her unhappy thoughts. “I need to know when the best time might be to move your body out of the Tower.”
“Oh, I have a cousin there,” Mrs Finn said, chiming in excitedly. “Jeremiah Meekers. He can be trusted to help, should you need it.”
“He’s your cousin, Mrs Finn?” Clementine cried happily. “How wonderful! I adore old Meekers!”
“Of course he is! “ Gilbert quipped. “Having met the estimable Meekers, I can definitely see him being the kin of my own dearest, doughty Mrs Finn!”
The housekeeper’s expression wavered between cross and pleased, unsure as she was whether Mr Thackeray was calling her bossy. “Yes, well,” she said, deciding to take it as a compliment, “As I were saying, old Meekers will be of assistance should you need it - and don’t forget ‘tis the County Fair tomorrow too. I believe Lady Muck … I mean Lady Motley … is making an appearance.”
“Yes she is!” Clementine said. “Gilbert, that would be the best time to do it. Most of the servants have the day off for the fair too!”
“Then tomorrow it is, ladies!” Gilbert said resolutely then, seeing Clementine’s wistful expression, asked, “What is it?”
“I have always wanted to go to the County Fair.”
“You’ve never been, Princess Clementine?” Mrs Finn asked, appalled.
“No,” Clementine complained. “It was deemed too dangerous because of the whole sharp things: ouch! Slumber! problem.”
“Well surely that’s a moot point now?” Mrs Finn said in the Princess’ general direction. “Why not come with me?” she suggested. “Mr Thackeray always gives us the day off for the County Fair.”
“Ooh, yes!” Clementine cried with childlike delight. “Can I, Gilbert? Can I?”
Gilbert held up his hands in surrender. “Very well!” he said and added drily, “Don’t worry about me. I will simply drop you Ladies off at the Fair and go on to the Palace where I will kidnap the body of the Princess Clementine of the Kingdom of Rosenly from under everyone’s noses and hide it away in a forgotten corner of the Palace.” He waved his hand dismissively. “ I mean, what could possibly go wrong with so simple a plan as that?”
Ignoring Gilbert’s good-natured whinge, Clementine clapped her hands, chanting happily, “I’m going to the Fair tomorrow!”
The next morning. Gilbert dropped off the ladies and then set out for the Palace.
Hill went in search of a stall which sold chutney. “It won’t be as good as mine, of course,” she muttered, “but it’ll save some time standing over a hot pan.” Hetty ran off to meet her friend, Molly, who worked at the Palace and Mrs Finn and Clementine strolled around the town square looking at the goods on offer and watching the children trying their hand at winning prizes at the games booths.
Mrs Finn leaned towards Clementine. “After this, we can take a peek at the ‘Wonky Vegetable Contest’,” she whispered, before adding disdainfully, “It’s really just an excuse for people to show off their rude-looking veg. I expect your aunt will be asked to judge that and the flower show. So that should be interesting.”
“What else will there be, Mrs Finn?”
Mrs Finn smiled at the Princess’ obvious excitement. “Well now, let’s see.” she said, careful not to let anyone hear her apparently talking to herself. “There’ll be maypole dancing; Morris dancers flinging their hairy legs about and rattling their bell ribbons; a marching band and a juggler or two as well I expect. There’ll also be the usual best cow, sheep and whatnot competitions,” she and nodded proudly at Clementine’s look of awe. “Oh, I expect ‘tis not as exciting as some of those fairs you get in the City but, then again, it ain’t so rowdy neither.”
“I think it’s splendid!” Clementine said excitedly. Honestly, being in Slumber was turning out to be more fun than she could ever have hoped. “I do wish I could taste the delicious looking food and breathe in all the scents of the fair though,” she said wistfully.
“Scents of the fair?” Mrs Finn harrumphed. “You’re probably better off without that, Princess. It mainly smells of cow.”
“Betsy!” an elderly woman called, waving from across the square.
“That’s my cousin, Rachel, so best keep a low profile, Princess,” said Mrs Finn, waving back at her cousin.
“I shall have a wander while you visit with your cousin, Mrs Finn,” Clementine said and drifted off in search of the sights.
Clementine passed a stall where adults and children alike were bobbing for apples. The men and children were particularly effusive as, hair soaking wet and an apple clenched between their teeth, they emerged triumphant. The ladies, though, tended to surrender before they soaked themselves through - much to the jeering amusement of their menfolk.
In search of a juggler and the Morris dancers, Clementine crossed the square to the town green where a crowd had gathered to cheer on a sack race. The Princess stood behind two young women who, rather than watching the race, had their heads together and were chatting with gossipy pleasure.
“I reckon he’s doolally-tats but no one listens to me.”
“But why would he say that name?”
“I don’t know, Molly, but I’m telling you he was happy as a loon out there going blah-de-blah-de-blah, Clementine!”
The Princess realised then that the two girls were, in fact, Hetty and her friend Molly and that it was Gilbert about whom they were gossipping. She would tell Mrs Finn about this: as housekeeper, she had charge over Hetty. Neither she nor Gilbert would want such talk getting out.
“Who is your friend, Molly?” Clementine’s spirits sank. It was her cousin who had asked the question. Molly blushed, not sure what her Ladyship had heard.
“Her name’s Hetty, malady. She works for Mr Thackeray.”
“Oh, then it’s nice to meet you, Hetty,” Evangeline said, bestowing a warm smile on the girls. “Enjoy the rest of the fair.”
They two maids watched Evangeline disappear into the crowd. “Gawd, I hope she didn’t hear that!” Hetty said anxiously. “I’ll get into a heap of trouble for blabbing.”
I should hope so too! Clementine thought crossly and hurried off after her cousin.
“If you are sure of what you say, I don’t see we have any choice,” Fellowes said worriedly when Gilbert explained why he was there. “I just hope His Majesty understands why we are doing it.”
“Don’t worry, I will explain to the King and take full responsibility for what we have done.” Gilbert promised, looking from the physician to Agnes, the old nurse. “I’m afraid, though, that the subterfuge will be entirely down to you both. No one must see you coming and going and you must pretend not to know where the Princess is,” he told them. “Can you do that?”
“Anything for my girl!” Agnes said firmly, taking hold of Clementine’s hand.
“I will, of course, do nothing to jeopardise the Princess,” Fellowes added.
“Good! Then let us hurry,” Gilbert said. “Mrs Lane, Meekers has been good enough to move some things into the No
rth Tower.”
“The North Tower, Mr Thackeray?” she said horrified. “We can’t take the Princess to that draughty old place!”
“That is why no one goes there and is exactly why we must put Princess Clementine in the North Tower,” Gilbert said patiently. “Meekers is lighting a fire up there and putting in a supply of blankets and candles. It will do well enough. Dr Fellowes, if you could guard the stairway, I will carry the Princess up to the Tower.”
Agnes followed anxiously behind Gilbert, instructing him to “watch the step” or “mind her head” as they made their way up the narrow stairway.
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