I did not have much time for magical contemplation, however, as we were immediately confronted by the spectacle of Aunt Charlotte haranguing the Webbs. An old-fashioned brougham, which I took to be Mrs. Pentworthy's coach, stood nearby. Its coachman made no pretense of indifference; indeed, it was a good thing his horses were placid cobs, so little attention did he pay them.
James and I descended from the coach, and James told our coachman loudly to walk the horses outside the gate, as we did not expect to be long. We could all hear quite easily what Aunt Charlotte was saying—"And I'll have no more of this roundaboution! Where is my nephew-by-marriage? Where is His Grace?"
"Gone off about his own business, I should think," James said in a carrying voice.
Everyone turned in surprise; they had all been so caught up with Aunt Charlotte that they had not noticed our arrival. Aunt Charlotte paled, then reddened. Before she could start in on us, I said as affably as I could, "Dear Aunt Charlotte! Are you still searching for the Duke of Waltham? What a pity your letters missed us. We might have saved you a good deal of time and effort."
Aunt Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "You know where he is?
"No," I replied, "but we were here when he took himself off, and I do assure you, Aunt, that the Webbs know no more than we of his current whereabouts."
An expression of consternation crossed Aunt Charlotte's face, but she rallied quickly. "And how is it that you are so certain of that?" she demanded.
I smiled sweetly. "We were here when he left. Did you not know? The Webbs were kind enough to invite us all to a house party."
"And you came?" Aunt Charlotte's tone of horror drew a frown from James, but she went on, oblivious. "At this time of year? To an obscure manor house in the north country to visit a pair of... of..." Words failed her, or perhaps some remnant of good behavior held her back (though I admit that with Aunt Charlotte, this is altogether unlikely), and she flapped a hand in the direction of the Webbs.
"Do forgive Aunt Charlotte," I said even more sweetly to the Webbs. "She is very excitable, and I fear that she is inclined to be old-fashioned in her notions."
"Old-fashioned?" Aunt Charlotte was nearly incoherent with rage, but at least now she was raging at me, rather than at the Webbs. Mr. Webb looked slightly stunned; I think he had not yet adjusted to the turn of events. His sister was more awake on that head. She was watching me closely, as if trying to fathom what I was about.
Abruptly, Aunt Charlotte stopped. With visible effort, she pulled herself together. In a voice still shaking with suppressed anger, she said, "I despair of you, Cecelia. To forgo the Season is bad enough, but to bury yourself in the north, in places that are not even watering holes, is foolish beyond measure. Especially when your behavior is so outlandish! Do not think the news of it will not reach London. You will not keep your position in Society long if you associate with Cits and foreigners in such free and easy fashion!"
"Aunt Charlotte—," I said, but by this time she was impossible to stop.
"I have heard all about it!" she raged. "Riding those infernal machines and poking into heathen ruins; taking strange dogs and foreign men into your very household! If James were not with you, you would be ruined, married or not!"
"But James has been with me," I said calmly. "You are seriously overset, Aunt Charlotte, or you would think better of what you are saying."
"Perhaps your aunt would like to lie down in a quiet chamber for a little?" Adella Webb suggested, a little too smoothly.
"Adella!" Her brother's horrified whisper carried much farther than he intended. She gave him a look that I could not interpret and made a little gesture, and his eyes widened. Then he nodded and said, "Yes, er, if you would like to rest a little, Miss Rushton, I am sure—"
"I do not require rest!" Aunt Charlotte screeched. "I require my nephew-by-marriage the Duke of Waltham!"
"He isn't here, Aunt," I said firmly. "He hasn't been here for weeks. When you have had a chance to rest, you will—"
I stopped in midsentence. The pool of ley energy in the courtyard, which had been calm and still, was stirring. In the distance, I heard the long whistle of the steam engine.
Aunt Charlotte had started complaining again, which effectively covered my lapse in speech. I looked around. The stirring became an eddy, then a whirlpool, and I realized it was centered on Mr. Webb. "James!" I shrieked, not altogether coherently. "Stop him!"
Fortunately, James knows quite well when to act first and ask questions later. He saw where I was looking, took three steps forward, and milled Mr. Ramsey Webb down.
The swirling ley energy paused. Aunt Charlotte cried out, just as if she had never before seen one gentleman strike another (I stretch the point slightly, I admit; it is not, perhaps, strictly correct to refer to my brother Oliver and his friends as "gentlemen." But then, I do not think it is strictly correct to apply the term to Ramsey Webb, either).
"Idiot!" snarled Adella Webb. I could not readily tell whom she was addressing—James or her brother. She made a gesture, and the swirl of ley energy shifted and recentered itself on her. It began spinning once more, pulling away from the courtyard walls into a tight funnel that surrounded her and her alone.
Mr. Webb regained his feet and lunged at James. Aunt Charlotte shrieked again, in counterpoint with the approaching whistle of the train. "Aunt Charlotte, ward yourself!" I shouted, and activated every warding spell I had cast on James and me.
I was barely in time. The ley energy swept out from Adella Webb and nearly knocked me off my feet. It did knock James off his (or perhaps it was Mr. Webb's lucky punch). I staggered. Adella threw open the main door of Haliwar Tower. "Inside!" she cried to her brother.
I thought she meant the pair of them to dodge inside and bar the door, and I scrambled to my feet in hopes of preventing them. As I did, Ramsey Webb grabbed James's coat and swung him through the open door. Or at least, that is what he tried to do. James is not a small man, and Mr. Webb is neither oversized nor well-muscled. If James had been properly on his feet, I do not think Mr. Webb could have budged him. As it was, James lurched toward the door but caught himself on the threshold.
Adella Webb made an angry, exasperated noise and plunged forward. She rammed into James, shoving him through the doorway and into the tower—and her momentum carried her inside along with him.
For a long instant, nothing seemed to happen. Then I felt the ley energy shift—and Adella Webb shrank in on herself. A moment later, a pug dog stood where she had been.
"Adella!" Ramsey Webb cried in horror. As he lunged forward, the ley energy shifted again—and began to stretch away from the entrance to the courtyard. I knew what that must mean: The steam engine that pulled the coal train had reached the ley line, and was towing it along the railway as it passed.
Ramsey Webb seemed unaware of the shift in the ley energy. He ran toward the tower, pulling at the power as he went. I think he was trying to restore the spell that had protected everyone inside from the transformation spell, but perhaps he was trying to restore his sister directly.
The ley energy stretched, and stretched further, as the steam engine pulled on one end and Ramsey Webb pulled on the other. And then, just as he reached the doorway, the ley line snapped like a child's bootlace that has been drawn too tightly.
"Snapped" is of course not entirely accurate when one is speaking of a river of magical power, but it is as near as I can come. Magic surged into the courtyard as what was left of that end of overstretched ley line pulled back. It surged through Ramsey Webb and into Haliwar Tower, and then back out again. The tower shook, as it had during that last night James and I spent there, and slowly began to collapse.
"James!" I cried, but he had already swept up the pug dog and charged out the door. He nearly tripped over a rather foolish-looking boxer—who had been Ramsey Webb a moment before.
Aunt Charlotte stood staring, for once quite unable to say anything, as the servants poured out of the house in a panic and the central tower slowly d
isintegrated. I could feel the magic draining away, and I half expected one or both of the Webbs to resume their natural forms at any moment, but it was no such thing. They both remained dogs.
James looked from the pug to the boxer and back. Then he turned to me and raised an eyebrow inquiringly.
"He was drawing on the ley lines to break the spell on his sister," I said, thinking it out as I spoke. "And the train went by and distorted the ley line at just the wrong moment and caused a backlash." I looked at the dogs. "I don't think the transformation spell is part of the ley line network anymore. I think it's all right here, on the two of them. And it's going to be nearly impossible to take off again, if all the power I felt a minute ago went into reinforcing it."
This left us to deal with the Webbs' servants and the two coachmen. As soon as she recovered her voice, Aunt Charlotte declared herself to be quite overcome and utterly unable to travel. Mrs. Pentworthy's coachman agreed with unseemly enthusiasm that she ought to remain at Haliwar while he returned to his mistress, and we saw him off with a message for Walker and James's valet (who had remained in Stockton). Our own coachman we sent on to Darlington with a message for Herr Schellen and Mr. Skelly (who we presumed had regained his natural form when Adella transformed into the pug dog).
Then we set about soothing the servants enough to arrange rooms for James, myself, and Aunt Charlotte, for of course we could not leave Haliwar with its master and mistress in such straits. Fortunately, Mr. Webb's study and Miss Webb's workroom are both in the undamaged wings, and once they understood the situation, the servants were only too happy to have us search through the papers for a means of disenchanting their employers.
We found a good deal of interest, and James sent off an express letter to Lord Wellington. Mr. Skelly and Herr Schellen arrived yesterday, with the news that the stone circle at Goosepool has collapsed (and with your latest letter). They are currently examining the ley energy that remains in and around Haliwar, and the state of the other ley lines in the immediate vicinity. A week as a terrier has vastly improved Mr. Skelly's manners; I will be interested to discover what effect their transformation has on the Webbs, once we determine how to return them to their normal forms. It is almost a pity that it is too late to apply the spell to Aunt Charlotte.
James remains extremely put out with her, as he is convinced that it was her injudicious remarks about "strange dogs and foreign men" that caused Mr. Webb to attempt whatever enchantment he was beginning when James struck him. For of course, Mr. Webb would surely connect the "strange dog" with the enchanted sheepdog, and the "foreign men" with Herr Magus Schellen, and leap to the conclusion that we had discovered his enchantments. Though James cannot deny that we would not have discovered as much as we have without the unexpected confrontation (and its even more unexpected results), he still scowls and looks black whenever it is mentioned. I believe he is offended by the inelegance of it all.
For myself, I am simply glad that it is all over, or nearly so. As soon as Lord Wellington sends some wizards to replace us and take charge of the Webbs, we will be on our way to reclaim the children. I do not expect to remain here above another fortnight; I shall write the very moment I know the exact date of our departure.
I am astonished to learn Drina's identity; the child must have a will of iron to have kept so great a secret for so long, threat to her mother or no. It augurs well for her possible future as queen, I think.
Yours, Cecy
18 May 1828
Skeynes
(Enchanted by T.S. out of sheer habit)
Dear Cecy,
Thank goodness it wasn't you who went through the doorway! Canine life is not without interest, but I hate to think of you in such trim. How fortunate James has never displayed any aptitude for performing magic. It says a great deal that Aunt Charlotte was too shaken to make a sermon out of it, for a clearer case of reaping and sowing I cannot imagine.
I hope it will gratify you to learn that the case against the Webbs will benefit from a witness willing to testify against them at every turn. After many promises, I am at last able to deliver news of the interrogation of Mr. Scarlet.
Mr. Scarlet is not his real name. He was born Adolphus Medway. His mother was one of the servants in the Webb household, as were many of his relations. I find it difficult to think of him as anything but Mr. Scarlet now, so forgive me for confining myself to that name. As Mr. Scarlet was hand in glove with the Webbs in the matter of the stone circles and the network of ley lines, he has offered all matter of testimony condemning them of crimes as black as his own.
What produced this miraculous volte-face, you may wonder? The moment Colonel Winters read out the charges listed on the writ of arrest (with the tactful omission of Thomas's name, of course), Mr. Scarlet mended his manners. Gone was his disdainful air.
"If I swing, I won't swing alone," Mr. Scarlet declared. "There's that blackmailing swine Francis Conroy, for a start, and John Conroy himself over him. More than that, there's a pair up north you should know about, real beauties both—the Webbs." With that, he proceeded to regale us with a litany of his villainous deeds faster than Colonel Winters's men could write it down.
It was crowded in the cellar, and it was with some relief I found myself called away from the throng to deal with a question of kitchen logistics posed by our cook. I would not have left, I promise you, before the burning issues of Mr. Scarlet's guilt had been resolved. No asparagus receipt in the world could have lured me away before I had my curiosity satisfied on the salient points.
From Thomas, I have the full story.
Scarlet was born mere Adolphus Medway, servant to Scalby Webb, a cousin of the pair you know so well. Scalby Webb was sent to university to refine his knowledge of magic, and Scarlet went along with his master. Webb had little interest in magic, as he was intent on keeping to himself and drinking all the claret he could come by, but his servant missed no opportunity to listen at keyholes and pick up what titbits of learning he could.
In Webb's second term at university, he took a fever. Scarlet nursed his master, and claims to have caught a mild form of the indisposition himself. When Webb died, Adolphus Medway traded places with him. So completely had Webb kept to himself, Scarlet was able to turn the trick and assume Webb's station in life and place at university.
Scarlet studied magic diligently and mastered a good deal in his limited time at university. He was adept at aping Webb's scrawl, and Webb never wrote home except to plead for money, so no one was the wiser until the Webbs came to visit their cousin in his rooms.
Scarlet was blackmailed into their service. As an agent of the Webbs, Scarlet was sent on all manner of errands to do with their schemes for power and financial gain. They were intent on concealing their misdeeds as long as possible. When they learned that Lord Wellington sent for James, they were sure that some papers of interest to them had accompanied the summons. Hence Scarlet took it upon himself to investigate Tangleford. There is a stone circle there, as you know perfectly well, and once he had added it to the ley network, he was able to penetrate your defenses almost at will. It was never part of his plan to be discovered in his misdeeds, so Scarlet fled as soon as he detected your spell-casting to counter him.
Scarlet had no idea he would ever have anything to do with Tangleford Hall again. It gave him a nasty shock, therefore, when Arthur espied him at the Bull and Mouth. Double the shock, indeed, as he was returning from Leeds, having made his report to the Webbs with all speed. As he was not in disguise, Arthur recognized him. After that encounter, Scarlet made no bones about shifting his appearance more frequently even than usual.
Scarlet was recruited into Conroy's treasonous scheme when Conroy's cousin Francis tracked him down in London. Francis Conroy had been at university during Scalby Webb's first term at university. They shared the same tutor, in fact. Thus, Francis Conroy noticed when Scarlet made the switch. (More than the tutor did, it seems.) He held his peace at the time, but kept his eye on Scarlet thereafter. When t
he Conroys contrived their dastardly plan, Scarlet's talent for shifting appearances made him a valuable accomplice. Francis Conroy blackmailed Scarlet into colluding with the scheme.
Scarlet claims he was given no choice but to play along. Disguised as a physician, he was smuggled into the palace by one of the ladies-in-waiting Conroy had corrupted. Scarlet cast the glamour that made Victoria Conroy resemble the princess. Francis Conroy had plans for Drina thereafter, but he reckoned without Scarlet's initiative. Scarlet spirited Drina away to his pied-a-terre in Stroud. By the time Francis Conroy, using the unimaginative alias of Mr. Jones, found the house in Stroud, Scarlet was long gone.
As an agent of the Webbs, Scarlet had been charged with frightening Daniel into backing the Webbs financially. Daniel foiled the Webbs by running away. They believed he could be brought to heel by threats to Georgy, and so once her whereabouts was known, Scarlet was ordered to arrange her abduction. Scarlet felt that a well-delivered threat would be just as effective and far less trouble, so he did not actually bother to carry out that order.
I wish I could describe Georgy's expression when she learned that, far from plotting her demise, Daniel had been trying to protect her all along. Her eyes went wide, her jaw dropped, and by the time she recovered enough to close her mouth, her lower lip was already trembling. She took herself off then, thanks be to a merciful providence, for a coal cellar thronged with wizards and soldiers was obviously no place for her finer feelings to take wing.
Had Scarlet simply evicted Edward the moment he detected his presence in the cart and left him to his own devices on the road, he could have had Drina safely in his hands almost indefinitely. Instead, he chose to add Edward to his collection of misdeeds. I suppose I owe him some thanks for abandoning both the children without a struggle.
03 The Mislaid Magician Page 22
