03 The Mislaid Magician Page 21

  This morning (hard to believe—it seems a lifetime has passed since then) the children greeted Thomas and me on our return from riding the boundary. They were agog with excitement over the behavior of the toy soldiers that guard the Map. Thomas came with me to the nursery, where the soldiers were all in motion. It was exceedingly slow motion, such that we had to hold our breath and watch in silence for minutes on end, but it was just as Arthur and the others said. All the soldiers were moving, at a rate of mere inches per month, around Skeynes as the children have it marked on the Map.

  Thomas retired to his study to scrutinize the bounds we've set around Skeynes. Nothing he did could detect any threat to correspond with the phenomenon. After one last thorough inspection of the Map in situ, he concluded that the spell was failing.

  Thomas detailed Arthur and Eleanor to make careful observations of the toy soldiers' motion, both in distance and in time, on the grounds that further study was required before a hypothesis could be formed. I think you would be pleased and surprised by the patience and respect Thomas displays toward the twins where magic is concerned. Certainly it pleases and surprises me.

  "That should keep them busy," Thomas confided to me. "The remarkable thing is that they were able to create the Map in the first place. After all, Arthur and Eleanor have had no formal magical training. If their creation malfunctions before it stops working entirely, I suppose it's not surprising."

  We had only just finished in the nursery when we were informed that a carriage had drawn up at the door. Thomas joined the children at the window. "It's the Wrextons at last," he told me over his shoulder as he turned for the stairs. "From the look of things, they've brought half the army with them. Not before time, either. I've been writing to London daily for help from the Royal College. Perhaps someone has finally troubled himself to open the post."

  When I followed Thomas out to meet the Wrextons, I was taken aback to discover that he had only been exaggerating a trifle. To the great annoyance of our servants, there were troops of red-coated soldiers everywhere. The Wrextons, both looking as neat as wax despite their travels, were in a far grander carriage than is their wont, an elegant barouche with a coachman and footman in the front. Riding in the barouche with the Wrextons was a lady wearing a veil that concealed her features utterly. The officer only too obviously in charge dismounted and greeted Thomas with starched formality.

  "Reggie Winters," Thomas exclaimed. "Haven't you sold out yet?"

  The name, once uttered, jogged my memory sufficiently that I was able to make a more formal greeting. "Colonel Winters, how nice to meet you again."

  Colonel Winters ignored us both as he drew forth a letter and read it aloud to us. I freely admit any memory I might have had of the formal opening phrases was displaced by my astonishment when I heard these words read out:

  "Thomas Schofield, quondam Marquis of Schofield, I do arrest you on the charge of high treason."

  I was gaping at Colonel Winters, so I felt Thomas's surprise more than I saw it. He stiffened beside me, caught utterly off-guard by the accusation, and exclaimed, "Winters, is this your idea of a joke?"

  Mr. Wrexton sprang down from the barouche. "Thomas, I do beseech you to moderate your language. Clearly there has been a mistake. But irreverence will only compound the difficulty."

  Aunt Elizabeth descended from the carriage and came to my side. "Dear Kate, I'm so glad to see you in your best looks. Michael, do apologize to Thomas for your error."

  "This is partially my fault," Mr. Wrexton conceded, "and I do beg your pardon for it most sincerely. You asked me for help in identifying your superfluous child. I'm afraid I permitted myself to be piqued by the implication that I am some sort of universal office for the recovery of lost articles. When I wrote to answer your request, I gave you short shrift. Matters that I—quite unforgivably—assumed to be more pressing claimed my attention, and I did nothing whatever to help you identify the lost child. I'm sorry. I have tried to explain matters to Colonel Winters, but he has the fixed notion that you are responsible for her abduction. He has army magicians deployed around your perimeter, so I beg you to be circumspect."

  "Wait." Thomas held up his hand to halt Mr. Wrexton. He glared at Winters. "Do you mean to tell me all this pother is about Drina?"

  At the very sound of the name, the veiled lady in the barouche wailed and buried her sobs in her handkerchief.

  Colonel Winters drew himself to his full height and read from his paper again. "If any person or persons do maliciously wish, will, or desire, invent, practice, or attempt any bodily harm to be done to the king's most royal person or his heirs apparent"—Winters put heavy emphasis on the words heirs apparent—"that person shall be adjudged a traitor and tried for high treason."

  Just the manner in which Colonel Winters said them aloud seemed to me to put the words high treason in capital letters. It made me shudder. If I could have buried my sobs in a handkerchief, I might have done so. As usual, however, I had come out without any such useful object on my person.

  "Oh, gather what wits the good Lord gave you, Reggie," Thomas snapped. "You know perfectly well I've never done anything of the sort. In any event, the Duke of York is the king's heir apparent."

  Winters dropped his official air and answered Thomas back. "My orders concern Her Royal Highness, the Princess Alexandrina Victoria, the king's only niece. Until the existence of legitimate issue from the Duke of York, she is next after him in line for the throne."

  Thomas turned to me and I could see my own horror mirrored in his eyes. "Drina!" said Thomas, just as I smote my forehead and cried, "Laid couching! I should have known!"

  "Drina!" The veiled lady fairly bounded out of the carriage in her haste to reach Thomas. "You do have her, you villain!" In her distress, she struck Thomas a flurry of blows about the head and shoulders, but Aunt Elizabeth and I were able to pull her off him before any serious injuries were inflicted.

  In the struggle, the lady's veil was pulled aside. I saw that we were trying to restrain a wild-eyed woman in her early forties. She was dressed with great expense, if no more than moderate elegance, and her eyes were red with weeping. I could feel only pity for the agony the woman must have endured. My pity availed me nothing, however. The moment my grip on her wrist faltered, she boxed my ears soundly.

  I fell back, blinking tears of pain away, and saw that the children had broken free of the nurses. Arthur, Eleanor, and Edward were racing toward us, but far in the lead was Drina, her skirts and petticoats lifted a ladylike few inches to speed her flight.

  "Pray do not cry, Mama," called Drina, as the children joined us in a small stampede. "I am here. Oh, I am here."

  Drina cast herself into her mother's arms, and the pair of them sank down on the gravel, weeping with joy to be reunited.

  Aunt Elizabeth and I exchanged rueful smiles. I know my own eyes came near to brimming with tears. How could anyone find anything but joy in the touching sight of a mother and a daughter reunited?

  When Drina had collected herself, which she did with remarkable speed for one of her tender years, she turned to Colonel Winters. "Lord and Lady Schofield are not at fault," she stated. With eyes flashing, she turned to her mother. "It is the odious Mr. Conroy who is to blame, Mama. He arranged for Mr. Scarlet to abduct me. I was held prisoner in a dreadful place. Mr. Scarlet told me that if I dared speak a word to tell anyone who I truly was, he would do dreadful things to Feodore, and you would die most horridly."

  "Mr. Conroy can do no more harm," Drina's mother said. "He is a prisoner in the Tower." After a moment of devoting herself to her handkerchief again, she added, "I am sorry for my folly, for he deceived me cruelly."

  At this, Drina looked distinctly pleased. She turned to Colonel Winters to finish her explanation. "Edward came, so I rescued him. His mother and father have shown me nothing but kindness. Pray do not arrest them for treason, for it is all Mr. Conroy's fault. His minion Mr. Scarlet is prisoner here. He tells people he is a wizard, but it is no
such thing. You must make him confess his crimes."

  "We rescued each other," Edward protested.

  "Drina rescued you, and you know it," Eleanor said in her most withering tone.

  "Rescued by a princess!" Arthur said, envy in every syllable. "You lucky devil!"

  "That will do," I informed them. "Back to the nursery with you. At once!"

  Most reluctantly, the sprigs from our family tree withdrew themselves. I might have felt a twinge of pity at their manifest reluctance if I hadn't known perfectly well they would be scrying us the moment they returned to the nursery.

  Colonel Winters folded his piece of paper away with a distinct air of relief. "I will summon the magicians. Thomas, I do beg your pardon."

  "Don't be silly, Reggie." Thomas clapped Colonel Winters on the shoulder. "You were only doing your duty. And I don't envy you your orders, if you had to carry them out under these circumstances." Thomas glanced meaningfully at Drina's mother.

  "She would come," said Colonel Winters glumly. "Mr. and Mrs. Wrexton were firm in your defense, but she insisted."

  Drina's mother, or perhaps I should say Her Grace, the Duchess of Kent, had gone back to embracing her daughter and comparing notes with her. "Indeed, when you were stolen from me, Mr. Conroy ordered me to pretend his daughter Victoria was the true princess."

  Drina's disdain was beyond words. Her mother nodded in agreement. "Just so. She was enchanted to resemble you, but manners maketh man, and manners maketh princess, too. The king's request that you and I join him in Cheltenham ruined the scheme, even though he had only met you once and long ago. Victoria Conroy could not fool him for an instant, the ill-bred chit."

  Drina's eyes shone. "Mr. Conroy must be tried for treason, for indeed, he did most maliciously will bodily harm to be done to one of the king's heirs apparent."

  I noted that Thomas was now regarding Drina with considerable respect. Clearly she found no difficulty in quoting verbatim the words of Colonel Winters's writ for Thomas's arrest.

  Thomas said, "Wrexton? Between the pair of us, you and I may be able to turn the trick with Mr. Scarlet, but I don't object to help from the military now that Reggie has offered it. Do you?"

  "Indeed not." Mr. Wrexton turned to me. "May we entrust the Duchess of Kent and her daughter to your further hospitality? I fear this interrogation may not be fit for ladies to witness."

  Aunt Elizabeth gave her husband a distinctly old-fashioned look. "Then I doubt it a fit matter for gentlemen, either, but I think we will muddle through somehow."

  Colonel Winters signaled for his magicians, and I led Drina and her mother back indoors, all the while wondering what on earth we were going to feed everyone. I would back our cook against the army any day, but heirs apparent are another matter entirely.

  Thomas, Mr. Wrexton, and every wizard detailed to Colonel Winters's command are downstairs even now. For what feels like the hundredth time, I sign off with the same promise: I shall write the moment Mr. Scarlet gives me news to relate.

  Sincerely,

  Kate

  18 May 1828

  Haliwar Tower

  Dearest Kate,

  You will no doubt be astonished by the superscription. You will be even more astonished—and pleased—to learn that not only will we be coming to Skeynes shortly to retrieve our offspring, but you will also be spared a visit from Aunt Charlotte. I am only sorry that I cannot add the news that you will soon be rid of Georgy as well. I cannot say, as yet, precisely when we can leave, as we have a good many papers to go over before the magicians of the Royal College arrive, but rest assured, we shall come the very minute they do. I expect to write in a few days with more exact details.

  I am sure you are eager to know how all this has come about. It is, in a way, Aunt Charlotte's doing, though she did not intend any of it in the least. She has declared herself so shaken by recent events that she proposes to leave at once for Bath to take the waters and to repair her shattered nerves.

  Yesterday we followed Aunt Charlotte to Stockton. We arrived quite late in the afternoon, so there was not much time to ask after her. Nonetheless, James inquired at several inns, to no effect.

  We discovered the reason this morning, when Walker had the happy idea of asking the stableman about hired carriages and recent arrivals. Aunt Charlotte had, it seems, arrived two days before in a hired coach and driven straight to the home of one of her acquaintances, a Mrs. Pentworthy. (I had no notion that Aunt Charlotte had any acquaintances in so unfashionable a place as Stockton, but I cannot say that I am astonished. If there is one thing for which Aunt Charlotte has a positive gift, it is collecting acquaintances. I said as much to James, who remarked that the reason Aunt Charlotte has a multitude of acquaintances is that as soon as they begin to know her well enough to become friends, they find some excuse to cut the connection. I am afraid that dear James is still extremely put out with Aunt Charlotte.)

  At Mrs. Pentworthy's home, Aunt Charlotte bullied her way into a night's lodging and then had a terrific argument with the coachman over the agreed-upon hire. So put out was the coachman by this penny-pinching behavior that he flatly refused to remain, and returned to Leeds. Aunt Charlotte had spent the next day visiting every coach-for-hire in town, but after the way she treated the man from Leeds, none of them would take her up without receiving payment in advance. This she refused to do, and returned to her friend's lodgings last night in high dudgeon.

  We set off at once in the expectation of finding her still at Mrs. Pentworthy's home. When we arrived, we discovered it was no such thing.

  "Oh, she'll be so distressed that you didn't come before she left," Mrs. Pentworthy told James when he explained whom we had come to see. "Not that she wasn't terribly distressed already, poor thing. Some family matter, I take it." She looked at James and me with a bright, birdlike inquisitiveness, as if she hoped we would drop a few more crumbs of information for her to snap up.

  As I had been quite expecting any crony of Aunt Charlotte's to be as fond of gossip as she, I ignored her hints and said, "She has gone out, then?"

  "On some urgent errand," Mrs. Pentworthy said, nodding. "I loaned her my coach and driver."

  I saw a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes and knew at once how it was. However closemouthed Aunt Charlotte had been about her business, the coachman must learn her destination, at the least, and might well overhear something of even more interest. Whatever he discovered, Mrs. Pentworthy would learn in good time once he returned.

  "When do you expect her return?" James asked.

  "Oh, not before evening," Mrs. Pentworthy assured us. "I heard her tell the coachman she wished to visit Haliwar Tower, and that is a good way up the river."

  "Thank you for your kindness," I told her. She pressed us to stay, but James invented a business engagement and extracted us before she could tie us down with teacups and conversation.

  Once we were safely away, James's expression turned grim. "Cecelia, I do not wish to say anything invidious about your aunt, but—"

  "It is quite all right," I assured him. "You cannot say anything that I have not said myself already at least a dozen times."

  James snorted. "I believe I could manage one or two things."

  "Well, perhaps, if you use the sort of vulgar language that is permitted to gentlemen but not to ladies," I allowed. "But I think that is taking unfair advantage."

  He laughed, as I meant him to, and I went on, "I have been thinking, James, and really, this is the best thing that could have happened."

  James looked at me as if I had run mad. "It is?"

  "Yes, for it gives us just the excuse we need to visit Haliwar Tower again without arousing suspicion," I said. "Aunt Charlotte is sure to arrive before us, and if she is not in a passion when she gets there, I am sure the Webbs will put her into one very shortly. And after a few minutes spent dealing with Aunt Charlotte in a passion, they will not be at all surprised that we came to fetch her away."

  "What a wonderful idea," James sai
d in the tones of someone who thinks it quite the opposite. "So instead of the Webbs dealing with your aunt, you wish us to do so? How will that help? We'll have our hands full of your aunt on this visit, and the Webbs aren't likely to allow us another."

  "You haven't seen Aunt Charlotte in one of her tremendous takings," I said. "I think it quite likely that she will work herself into a sick headache by the time she is calmed down. I am sure she will need to lie quietly for a little before she is composed enough to make the return journey. In fact, I shall insist upon it."

  "What about the transformation spell?" James asked. "Haliwar is built around a stone circle, and I have no desire to watch you turn into a terrier."

  I noticed that he said nothing about Aunt Charlotte, who is certainly as much of a magician as I am, but I chose not to remark on it. Instead, I said, "Nothing happened the last time we were there, and the Webbs live in the tower. If they are the ones who have been using the ley lines—and I don't see who else it could be—they must have a protective spell on the tower to keep the transformation from affecting wizards. If you insist, though, I will find some excuse to ask for a room in one of the wings."

  "I see," James said. "I shall leave it in your capable hands."

  We set off for Haliwar without delay and made good time on the road. I spent most of the trip casting every magical ward and protection spell I could remember on James and me, just in case. The last spell, just before we arrived at the tower, was the advanced ley-line detection spell that Mr. Skelly had demonstrated just before he was turned into a terrier. I confess to being motivated primarily by curiosity, rather than forethought. The last time we were at Haliwar, my ley-detecting spells went fuzzy and blurred the moment I passed into the courtyard, and I wanted to see if Mr. Skelly's spell would be likewise affected.

  It was, but this time I could see why. When we drove through the gate into the courtyard of Haliwar Tower, I felt the ley line spreading out, like a stream flowing into a pond. The whole courtyard was awash in ley power, much more strongly than it had been on our previous visit. The power spread out from Haliwar Tower to the outer wall, and the ley line poured in and mingled with it until I could not tell which was which.