From
The Augusta Scuttlebutt
WHERE HIGH SOCIETY TURNS FOR SCANDAL
What happens when a beloved High Society figure transforms overnight from hostess to hostage? To find out, we visited the Northlands home of Mrs. Georgiana Tilbury. Although Mrs. Tilbury has been kept prisoner in her home since midsummer, she maintains a full social calendar that many law-abiding citizens would envy. “Am I bored? Never!” laughed Mrs. Tilbury from the comfort of her solarium. “Lately, I have been spending time preparing for my daughter’s upcoming wedding to Sir Nicholas Feathering. I recently hired several hundred birds from across the kingdom to chirp Mozart’s horn concertos during the ceremony. And of course I try to keep up with my charitable works. Why, just yesterday, I hosted a gathering of the Coalition of Overprotective Mothers, of which I am chairwoman. We are concerned by rumors that a common young woman without elegance or taste is next in line for the position of Enchantress, and several of our members are planning to visit the Royal Palace to remind the queen that government posts are most suitably filled by members of High Society.”
Under Augustan law, Mrs. Tilbury is not permitted to leave her mansion, and a royal guard is stationed on the grounds at all times. However, we observed a flurry of activity at Tilbury Park on the afternoon we visited. Several friends and family members were in attendance, as was a former admiral of the Royal Navy. Though we tried to learn the nature of their business with Mrs. Tilbury, we learned instead that the doors of Tilbury Park are thick and quite unsuitable for eavesdropping.
* * *
* * *
WE ASKED, YOU ANSWERED:
What’s your opinion of Georgiana Tilbury?
“I greatly admire Georgiana’s dedication to the difficult work of preserving our kingdom’s values. My friends and I look to her for guidance on every topic from current affairs to hat pins.”
—L. DEVEREAUX, NORDHOLM
“I don’t understand why that woman isn’t locked up properly like all the other thieves and conspirators in the kingdom. She claims to be frail and delicate, but I hope you will trust me when I say she is nothing of the sort.”
—E. PIMM, PEMBERTON
“We may have gotten our magic back, but those in High Society are still treated far better than the rest of us. Someone ought to stand up to that Mrs. Tilbury. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that even the queen herself is afraid of her.”
—L. REDFERN, PEMBERTON
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer not to answer that question.”
—N. FEATHERING, QUEENSPORT
* * *
CHAPTER SIX
THE FIRE ROARED in the feasting hall, and the nighttime sky was streaked with colored light. “You can’t see such a sight in the Southlands,” Miss Greyson told Hilary as they looked out the window at a green shimmer on the horizon. “Some northerners say the lights have magical properties. It sounds rather unlikely to me, but if magic can burrow under the hills, who’s to say it can’t stretch across the sky as well?” She shrugged. “I suppose there are a few mysteries even a governess can’t unravel.”
They walked back toward the fire, where the rest of the pirates had gathered with their drinking bowls and their tales of adventure. The gargoyle was telling the crowd how he had managed to rescue Miss Pimm from the Mutineers’ clutches, though his story was more than a bit embellished around the edges. “If you’d truly bitten a sea monster on the nose,” said Hilary, “I’m sure I would have noticed it.”
The gargoyle gave an embarrassed sort of cough. “You must have been taking a nap.”
“Sea monster or no sea monster,” said Captain Wolfson, “that battle at Tilbury Park was the most fun I’ve had in years. My men and I truly enjoyed swinging in through the windows.”
“Of course!” said Hilary. Now that Wolfson mentioned it, she distinctly remembered seeing pirates in furs raising their swords against Blacktooth’s mates. “You’re one of Cannonball Jack’s friends, aren’t you?”
Wolfson nodded. “We met when my ship was caught in a storm near Pemberton Bay. Cannonball Jack guided me and my crew to safety. When he wrote to me last summer and said that he needed my help in return, I was happy to lend a hand.”
Hilary poked at the coals with the tip of her cutlass. As much as she longed to ask the northern pirates for their assistance against Captain Blacktooth, the thought of enduring yet another rejection was almost too humiliating to consider. Still, she thought, it would be more humiliating by far to show up in Queensport Harbor on the day of the battle without any supporters by her side. “I hope you won’t think I’m foolish for asking,” she said, “but I was wondering if you might be able to help us again. We’re looking for pirates who are willing to go into battle against Captain Blacktooth, and we’d be honored if you’d join us.”
Wolfson looked around the fire at his mates. Then, to Hilary’s dismay, he shook his head. “We’re freelance pirates,” he said. “We don’t have anything to do with the League’s affairs, and we generally like it that way. Why should we involve ourselves now?”
“Go on,” Charlie whispered. “Tell them why!”
Hilary frowned. She didn’t have the slightest idea what was likely to win over Captain Wolfson and his crew. She supposed she might promise to supply them with unsinkable ships and vast stores of herring, but bribery was Blacktooth’s strategy, not hers, and she wasn’t eager to resort to it. Besides, hadn’t Claire once said that all a good leader truly needed was passion? Hilary hoped very much that it was true.
“You might not care for the League right now,” she said, “but if I’m in charge of it, I’ll do my best to change things. I won’t dismiss well-meaning pirates, or force you to help me take over the kingdom. And as for treasure—well, I can’t blame Blacktooth for loving it, but I’d give up all the loot in the Royal Treasury in a moment if it would help my crewmates, and I’m quite sure he never would.”
Wolfson used his shirtsleeve to wipe the grog from his beard. “Interesting,” he said.
One of the other pirates raised his hand. “If ye take Blacktooth’s place, Terror, will ye still host the annual picnic? I’ve always been wantin’ to go, but I’ve never been allowed.”
“Of course I’ll host it,” said Hilary at once. “It’s only fair. All pirates on the High Seas should be able to have picnics now and then.”
“So they should,” said Wolfson, “but trying to replace Captain Blacktooth is a tricky business. There are plenty of scallywags who still remember how Blacktooth came to win his presidency. You’re too young to recall it, Terror, but I imagine Mr. Fletcher’s told you all about it.”
Hilary gave Jasper a look. “As a matter of fact, he hasn’t.”
Jasper fiddled with the hem of his coat. “I, ah, didn’t think the details were relevant.”
“They were relevant enough to Pretty Jack Winter!” said one of Wolfson’s men, and his crewmates chortled.
“The Terror should hear this tale,” said Wolfson firmly. “She deserves to know what she’s up against.” He set down his drinking bowl and looked down at Hilary.
“Eighteen years ago,” he said, “when I was nothing more than an apprentice to my pirate grandfather, a scallywag named Pretty Jack Winter ran the Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates. He’d been president for almost half a century, but he never once thought of stepping down, and no one dared to challenge him, for he’d never been defeated in battle. My grandfather was a freelance pirate, same as I am, and he knew better than to cross Pretty Jack’s path on a moonless night.
“Then Rupert Blacktooth came along. No one thought much of him at first. He was from a family of middling pirates—nothing to write home about, the Blacktooths. But Rupert was orphaned when he was no bigger than a good-sized trout, and the High Society family that adopted his sister didn’t care to raise a boy as well. So Rupert showed up on the League’s doorstep and devoted his life to piracy. He did well in his studies, and soon enough he was apprenticed
to Pretty Jack Winter himself. By the time he was thirty, he held the League records in everything from cannon firing to parrot grooming.”
“I myself was a renowned parrot groomer once,” Jasper said as Wolfson sipped his grog. “But alas, I haven’t had the time to devote to Fitzwilliam’s plumage since I left the League.”
“It was treasure that Blacktooth loved most, though,” said Wolfson. “He’d amassed more treasure than any pirate before him, and he thought he’d earned the right to take over the presidency. Pretty Jack didn’t agree, of course, but that didn’t stop Blacktooth. He turned up in Gunpowder Square, just as you did, and announced his challenge to his former captain. It was the most scandalous act since Philby Figgins turned in his pirate hat and joined the Royal Navy. Mind you, there weren’t many pirates who dared to go up against Pretty Jack’s cannons, no matter how many records Blacktooth held. Still, Blacktooth had made a few friends over the years, and he managed to scrape together a crew.”
Hilary sighed. “Of course he did.”
“He knew, of course, that Pretty Jack Winter was prouder than a parrot and rustier than an old cutlass. Why, he hadn’t fought a fellow pirate in forty years! When the battle was over and the smoke had cleared, Pretty Jack’s men were clinging to the wreckage of their ship, and Pretty Jack himself was nowhere to be found. They say his peg leg washed up on shore three days later.”
“Oh my,” said Miss Greyson, turning rather green in the firelight. “How inconsiderate.”
“Ever since then,” said Wolfson, “Blacktooth’s word has been law on the High Seas. Half the scallywags in Augusta are afraid of him, and the other half are downright terrified. So you can see, Terror, why they’d be reluctant to join your cause.”
“I certainly can,” said Hilary. The idea of having bits and pieces of oneself floating about in Queensport Harbor was enough to turn the stomach of even the bravest pirate. “But perhaps Blacktooth is just as proud as Pretty Jack used to be, and just as rusty. Perhaps he won’t be prepared.”
“And perhaps I’ll turn into a cheese sandwich next Thursday,” said Jasper. “I’m afraid the odds aren’t likely.”
Wolfson nodded in agreement. “Blacktooth may be a scoundrel,” he said, “but he’s not foolish. If he were, he wouldn’t be spending a fortune at the Summerstead shipyard.”
Charlie had been leaning against a bench near the fire, but now he sat up straight. “Blacktooth’s building a new ship?”
“I don’t see why,” the gargoyle said. “The Renegade is awfully stylish.”
“And it’s practically unsinkable, isn’t it?” Hilary asked. “He can’t possibly be abandoning it.”
“Unless he’s building something even better,” Charlie said darkly. “Something that can destroy the Pigeon in five seconds flat.”
Wolfson shrugged. “No one knows what he’s building except the builders themselves,” he said, “and they’ve been paid handsomely not to discuss it. For all the rest of us know, it might not even be a ship. All I can say for sure is that Blacktooth sent a fine treasure chest to the shipbuilders not two days after you delivered your challenge, Terror. Officials from the League have been traveling to the shipyard ever since, although Blacktooth himself hasn’t made the journey.”
“If you’re thinking of sneaking a look,” one of Wolfson’s mates added, “don’t bother. Blacktooth’s men are keeping watch. Old Otto here already tried to slip by them, and all he got for his trouble was a nasty lump on the noggin.”
Hilary had been thinking of sneaking a look, in fact, but the pirate named Otto wore enough bandages around his head to make her reconsider. In any event, she couldn’t afford to linger in Summerstead. “I’d dearly like to know what Blacktooth’s up to,” she said, “but we’ve got to make our way back to the Southlands. Our supporters will be waiting for us.”
“And they’ll be quite lonely until we arrive,” Alice said, “since there are only twelve of them.”
“Twelve if we’re lucky,” Hilary corrected her. “If we’re not, the only ones who’ll greet us at Jasper’s bungalow will be the local rabbits, and I don’t think they’re very good at dueling.”
Jasper shook his head sadly. “Indeed they’re not,” he said. “Their swordplay technique is extremely sloppy.”
Wolfson cleared his throat and turned to Hilary. “You’re forgetting that I never answered your question, Terror. You asked me if my mates and I would be willing to join you in battle. The fact of the matter is that I like your spirit, and after you were generous enough to rescue us from the navy this afternoon, we can hardly refuse to help you in return. I can only offer twenty pirates to your cause, but I believe we’ll be an improvement on the rabbits.”
If Hilary hadn’t been a pirate, she would have hugged him on the spot. “But you said that challenging Captain Blacktooth was a tricky business!”
“Aye, it is, but pirates are fond of tricks.” Wolfson grinned into the fire. “And if it’s a trick played against Rupert Blacktooth and his Mutineer friends, so much the better.”
THE NEXT MORNING, after a hearty meal of smoked meat that Hilary didn’t care to examine too closely, the Pigeon began the long trip back to Wimbly-on-the-Marsh. Since the northern pirates’ vessel had been reduced to a few soggy ropes and boards, they had decided to remain in the Northlands until they’d finished repairs on their spare longship. Meanwhile, Wolfson had told Hilary he would do his best to find out exactly what Captain Blacktooth was building at the Summerstead shipyard.
Hilary had hoped that she might encounter a few more friendly pirates on the voyage home, but the Northlands seas were practically deserted, and each pirate ship that came close enough to spot the Pigeon soon turned and sailed away as fast as the wind could carry it. The news from the mainland was hardly more encouraging. Charlie swiped a copy of the VNHLP newsletter from a groggery that suddenly became emptier than a plundered treasure chest when Hilary stepped inside, but once they returned to the Pigeon, he tore up the paper before she could read it. “It’s nothing you’d be interested in,” he said, shoving the bits of newsletter into his pocket.
“I don’t believe you for a moment,” said Hilary. “Even the gargoyle tells better fibs than that.” The gargoyle, who was curled up in his Nest, narrowed his eyes at her from under the brim of his hat.
“Well,” said Charlie, “if you truly want to know, the Picaroon’s been running articles about how cozy the League has gotten with the Navy. Blacktooth’s spouting nonsense about a grand new age of cooperation on the High Seas. Pirates and naval officers will soon be sailing side by side, he says, sharing their grog and their gunpowder as they hunt down notorious villains like the Terror of the Southlands. It’s enough to make you sick, really.”
Hilary had to admit that she felt a little queasy just thinking about it. “I’m surprised at Father,” she said. “Everyone knows he hates cooperation nearly as much as he hates pirates.”
“But he and Blacktooth both love treasure,” the gargoyle pointed out sleepily, “and neither of them likes you very much.” He gave a dramatic sigh. “It sounds like a beautiful friendship.”
“About as beautiful as my old socks,” said Charlie.
Hilary quite agreed with him. “I should write a letter to Admiral Curtis,” she said. “I’m sure he’d be interested to know that his new adviser is giving out orders behind his back.”
“I’ve already thought of that,” said Charlie. “Even if you write to him, he’ll never get the letter. Who do you think opens Admiral Curtis’s mail?”
As the Pigeon sailed south toward Nordholm, Hilary did her best to squelch all thoughts of plotting pirate captains and villainous admirals. She spent a good deal of time trying to work on her Buccaneers’ Code, though her notebook was still mostly empty. “Don’t let another pirate frighten you,” she murmured, “even if he has two hundred supporters and a penchant for sending his enemies to a watery grave.” She tapped her fingers on the ship’s wheel. “And don’t read the Picaroon.�
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“Also,” said the gargoyle, “never let a budgerigar sit on your head. His claws might get stuck in your hat.”
Miss Greyson poked her head out from between the bookshop shelves. “May I contribute some advice?” she asked. “Never let a pirate alphabetize your history books, for he’s sure to make a mess of things.”
“Nonsense,” said Jasper. “I’ve always thought the alphabet was highly overrated.”
Hilary frowned. “I don’t think I’m going to write any of these down.”
“Terror!” called Alice. She was leaning far over the ship’s rail, and her petticoats flapped ferociously in the breeze. “Isn’t that Tilbury Park ahead?”
Hilary squinted up at the great white house on the hill, with its starched-stiff columns and perfectly clipped hedges. She’d much preferred the way the grounds had looked when they’d been trampled by pirates. “I can sail further out to sea if you’d like,” she said. “We don’t have to go anywhere near the place.”
“But that’s not what I’d like at all!” said Alice. “Tilbury Park is where the Mutineers have been meeting, isn’t it? I don’t know about you, but I’m simply dying to know what Captain Blacktooth is building in that shipyard. If we listen at Mrs. Tilbury’s windows, perhaps we can find out what he’s got planned.”
Hilary had endured far too much time with the Mutineers as it was, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend one more moment in their company. Still, if she could discover how Blacktooth was planning to defeat her in battle, she’d be far less likely to meet Pretty Jack Winter’s fate. “The Mutineers might not even be meeting today,” Hilary said, “and we don’t have much time to spare. But I suppose if we’re lucky, we might learn something useful.”
“Oh, good!” Alice performed a twirl that would have drawn rapturous applause from the dance mistress at Miss Pimm’s. “I knew you’d agree with me, Terror.”
Hilary laughed. “Well, I haven’t said yes yet.”
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