Lady Caroline very carefully took no notice. “Allow me to present the Lady Gwyn—” this, at a thin, golden girl with a high nose bridge and aristocratic nostrils, “and Lady Janna. From your left are Miss Pinet, Miss Charlotte, and Miss Danners. From your right, Miss Channing, Miss Tournet, and Miss Emily.”
“Charmed,” said Annabel, more cheerfully. Melchior had told her she was allowed to be short, so long as she was polite, and it was amusing to see Lady Caroline looking for words. She wondered why Lady Caroline didn’t see fit to fill the silence with an introduction of the last two girls in the room, but the lady’s lips only pinched together for a moment.
She opened them to speak again, leaving Annabel to speculate whether she was about to be delicately rude at the expense of the other girls again, or at Annabel’s expense, but she was too late.
“I’m Delysia,” said Delysia, when it became obvious that no one was going to introduce her. “My sister is Miss Matcham, but I don’t see why I can’t be a Miss Matcham here at Trenthams. Dolly will get married soon, anyway. You can call me Delysia if you like, but you don’t have to. Oh, and this is Miss Almina; she’s in from Broma.”
The Bromian girl bowed, swift and short, her brown eyes bright. Annabel couldn’t tell whether the girl was interested or mocking. And if the expression was mocking, was it at Annabel herself, or the order that had been so well established in the room by Caroline? Obviously, Annabel was supposed to give first importance to the Ladies and then to the misses—and finally, to the Bromian girl and the Delysia girl. That much was very clear. The problem was, Annabel knew far too many ways of getting around the things she was supposed to do.
She settled her blank expression a little more carefully on her face, and said to Delysia, “Do tell me about your sisters!”
5
The tea bell rang before the crowd of girls at the door had more than half dissipated.
“Tea!” said Isabella brightly. “Well, that’s good for a rest break, after all! They won’t all stay, but they’ll all go. They’ll want to know who has come back for the year, but once that’s out of the way, they’ll be back.”
As if belying her words, there came a knock at the door.
“What now?” wailed Annabel, but when Isabella opened the door, one of the teachers stood there.
She was the same, thin, fluting teacher who had been trying to bring order to the girls swarming Melchior earlier—Miss Cornett, was it?
Isabella curtseyed and stepped back from the door, and Annabel wondered if it was her imagination, or if the whole bearing of the other girl displayed amusement.
“Such an instructive day for me!”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Farrah?”
“Nothing at all, Miss Cornett. I was merely remarking that this day has been a day of surprises for me. Can we offer you a cup of tea?”
Miss Cornett’s head twitched forward on her thin neck as if to say yes, she really quite would, but her foot hesitated on the threshold. “I shouldn’t like to inconvenience you on your first day here.”
“You might as well come in,” said Annabel, amused in spite of herself. “Everybody else has already been in.”
“Yes, I suppose you’ve been quite busy—only to be expected—but one shouldn’t ahem, say so.”
“Shouldn’t one?” asked Isabella. “I’m sure you’re right, but I quite like being busy.”
“Do sit down,” said Annabel, since it seemed that Isabella was in a mood for laughter. “Do you take sugar?”
“Just a little!” Miss Cornett said. “Five lumps, thank you.”
Isabella blinked a little and dropped five lumps into the tiny teacup, one after the other. “I thought you would be busy today, Miss Cornett.”
“No, no—well, that is, yes a little! Still, one should be polite, and…”
“Goodness!” said Isabella. “When you said that you were a little busy, I didn’t realise you were going to visit all the new girls. That is polite of you!”
“Oh! Well! Perhaps not all of them…that is, I thought since Miss Ammett is so ahem, new, and since it’s your first term back again…”
“Ah,” nodded Isabella. “You came to share your wisdom. We appreciate that very much, don’t we, Nan?”
“Very much,” agreed Annabel. Miss Cornett was looking more flustered, and Annabel wasn’t sure whether to feel satisfied or sorry for her. “Biscuit, Miss Cornett?”
“Oh! No, thank you. I shouldn’t really stay.”
“Oh, but we’re waiting for your wisdom, Miss Cornett!” protested Isabella. “Just think how long I’ve been out of the fold, and how much Nan has to learn!”
“It’s nothing really,” Miss Cornett said, a touch of pink in either cheek. “I simply wanted you to know that if you need anything, you need only ask. My door isn’t always ahem, open, as such, but I am quite often there between classes.”
“Oh,” said Annabel. She glanced up at Isabella and caught the other girl looking distinctly sardonic. Was Miss Cornett not to be trusted either, then? “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
“Then I’ll take my leave,” said Miss Cornett. “Miss Ammett, Miss Farrah.”
They both curtseyed, Isabella with elegance and Annabel with relief.
“Do remember,” said Miss Cornett, pausing at the door, “that curfew begins in half an hour. Any girl caught out in the hallways after curfew will be punished regardless of her standing in the school.”
Annabel and Isabella looked at each other; said in tandem, “Yes, Miss Cornett,” properly.
When Miss Cornett closed the door behind herself, Annabel said, “Do you know, Belle, I get the feeling they don’t trust you.”
“We should go out,” said Isabella decidedly.
“Didn’t Miss Cornett just say—”
“Of course she did; she says the same thing every year. I suppose it’s up to you, after all—do you want to stay here and receive visitors every few minutes for the next half hour, or—?”
“We should go out,” Annabel said hastily. “Where are we going, by the way?”
“That depends,” said Isabella. “Is there something you want to know? For instance, I want to know why we weren’t given the suite we ought to have been given.”
Annabel thought about it and came to the conclusion that there was, in fact, something she wanted to know. “I want to know why Melchior is here. Really. Of course he’s here because there have been threats, but I’m sure there’s more to it.”
“Oh, good!” Isabella said, in a pleased voice. “I was beginning to wonder if you were a curious sort of person—I always get along better with curious people.”
Annabel gave a smothered giggle. “I don’t think you should be calling your future monarch a curious person!”
“You’ll just have to have me beheaded when you’re sworn in,” said Isabella. “That will teach me! Shall we really see what Melchior’s up to? I’m sure we can sneak into the school office and see if he’s on the teacher’s schedule if we’re very careful about it.”
“Are you?” said Annabel doubtfully. She was less sure. “Won’t the office have a lock?”
“Of course! Isn’t it lucky that I can pick locks?”
“Lucky?”
“Well, I did work very hard at it,” confided Isabella. “There was this man who kept breaking into the Imperial Palace when I was in Lacuna with my little Papa, you see. He didn’t want to kill anyone or steal anything, he just wanted to get in. You know, and have people know he’d been there. Anyway, there was this man, sneaking in; and there was I, sneaking about…”
It was fortunate, thought Annabel, fifteen minutes later, that not a soul was about the halls, since Isabella’s idea of sneaking about seemed to be to stroll down those hallways without a care in the world. When Annabel protested this, all Isabella said was, “Oh no! There are magical curfew keepers, but they don’t start for another hour, and they’ll only stop us if we’re being furtive. They’re built to allow the teachers t
hrough, you understand. Everything is perfectly fine, so long as one doesn’t panic. Besides, everyone else is either at tea or too scared to be out here, so who is there to see us? The teachers will be having their first night meet and greet—especially with Melchior here now. There are at least two female, unmarried teachers. Oh, look! Here we are!”
“The office?” It didn’t look much like an office, and they’d been walking down a particularly luxurious hallway on what Annabel was sure was the highest floor.
Isabella gave her a sparkling, mischievous look. “No! The suite! Feast your eyes, Nan!”
Annabel wasn’t sure how she did it, but she was fairly certain Isabella picked the lock with a thumbtack and something equally small and unlikely. She did it very quickly, too; the door was open before Annabel had a chance to protest that she had thought they were going to the office first.
The protest died away as she gazed into that room. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. It’s rather big, isn’t it?”
“Not big,” said Isabella, her eyes bright; “Magnificent! And it should have been ours. Do you know what is the most irritating thing about this whole situation, however?”
Annabel didn’t know, but she was quite sure Isabella was about to tell her whether or not she wanted to know, so she merely wandered further into the room.
“The most irritating thing,” continued Isabella, not at all put off, “is that we can’t even ask why, because this room isn’t actually part of the dormitories. Technically, it’s only ever supposed to be given to visiting dignitaries, and you can be sure that’s exactly the answer they’ll give us if we ask. But just the same, every year the head girl or the richest girl at Trenthams rooms here. It’s understood.”
“Perhaps they were doing it up,” suggested Annabel, who could smell the familiar scent of newly dried wall spackle. No one ever thought their rooms were good enough for the future queen, and no matter where she had visited in the last three years, she had smelled that smell.
“Ye-es,” Isabella agreed doubtfully. “I suppose it could be as simple as that. But they would have done it much earlier, if that was the case—or put us in here after airing the place out for a while.”
“I can still smell the spackle,” Annabel said.
“Oh, is that what it is? Well then!”
“It does,” Annabel said reluctantly, “look as though they’re nearly finished preparing it. And I suppose if they’re preparing it, they must be preparing it for someone.”
“Very odd,” said Isabella. Annabel had expected her to bristle at the suggestion, but Isabella only looked interested. “And that’s just a little bit too late as well. What a nice little puzzle for us. We might even be able to dig up something about this in the office, too. Shall we?”
“All right,” agreed Annabel, already moving toward the door. The room was grand and its surrounding suite was really very lovely, but it wasn’t to her taste.
Isabella hesitated, pouted a little, and said, “Go ahead, Nan. I want to revel a little bit before we go.”
Annabel left her to revel and stepped quietly into the hall. Was she imagining things, or had a shadow passed the door just as she turned? Her right hand automatically sought the pencil staff in her pocket, but she didn’t get the chance to pull it out. Someone grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the shadowy hall with one hand against her mouth.
Annabel’s shoulders met the wall. She would have struggled but she already knew who had snatched her away, and she had a rather good idea of why.
“There you are!” hissed Melchior’s voice, as the hand was removed. “Nan, you were supposed to come and see me!”
Annabel glared at him. “You didn’t say so. You didn’t say anything, actually; you just disappeared and didn’t see me off. Why should I come and see you just because you’re sneaking into the school?”
“I didn’t sneak in,” said Melchior. He grinned, eyes glowing in the shadows. “I’m one of the masters. Didn’t you know?”
“I didn’t ask,” Annabel said, putting her nose up and hoping it looked as elegant on her as it did on Isabella. “And if you’re a master, I’m not allowed to consort with you, anyway.”
Both of Melchior’s brows went up. “Consort? We’re doing nothing of the kind! Don’t look down your nose at me, Nan; you’re too short and you’ll make yourself cross-eyed.”
“I have to be in my room by the time they snuff the hall lights,” Annabel said in annoyance. She wondered when it was that she’d begun to find it hard to keep her blank expression in front of Melchior. “I can’t stop and talk.”
“Now that’s very interesting,” said Melchior. It wasn’t until he took a step closer that Annabel realised he still had one arm around her waist. “Because the lights are already snuffed and you’re still out. What are you up to?”
“Good heavens!” said Isabella’s voice before Annabel had a chance to discover why she was feeling so very startled. “An interlude! Shall I close my eyes?”
“Whatever for?” Annabel said crossly. “And I think it’s pretty rich of you to be asking what we’re up to, Melchior! You’re sneaking around as well!”
“I was looking for you,” Melchior said, stepping back unhurriedly until he was in the dim light of the only remaining hall lamp. “What else would I be doing? You weren’t in your room. Hallo, Firebrand. I trust you’re not leading Nan astray?”
“I’m reliably informed,” said Isabella, very sweetly, “that only a very select few students are allowed to bring their pets with them to Trenthams. I’m glad to see that you’re in their number, Nan.”
Melchior’s eyes narrowed. “Nan, I won’t have you telling people that I’m your cat!”
“You are my cat,” said Annabel.
“Do you fancy there’s room to keep him in our suite, though, Nan?”
“I have my own room, thank you very much,” said Melchior. “And speaking of which, perhaps we could take this conversation there instead of remaining here to be seen by every other schoolgirl who wants to sneak out tonight.”
“No one else will be sneaking out tonight,” Isabella said tranquilly, but she followed when Annabel went after Melchior. “No one sneaks out on the first night.”
Melchior’s lip curled slightly. “Evidently.”
“What better night to sneak out than a night when no one would be stupid enough to sneak out?” protested Isabella.
“It’s what you thought yourself,” Annabel said to Melchior. Isabella and Melchior were very similar in some ways. “And it’s no good both of you glaring at me; you’re like peas in a pod.”
“I’m offended,” Melchior said. “Nan, I’ll have you know that—”
“You’re offended!” gasped Isabella. “Well, I never! Nan, I’m at least twice as elegant as Melchior!”
“No one is as elegant as I am.”
“I would like to remind you, Melchior, that I am fully aware of how long you spent as a cat, and if that is your idea of elegance—”
Melchior grinned and opened the closest door along the hall. “Next time come and see me alone, Nan,” he said, to Annabel. “I refuse to be bested in my own room.”
“Oh! Is this your room? Why couldn’t we have this one! This one is nicer!”
Isabella gazed at her in wonder, then around the small, crimson and teak room. “Nan, you have the oddest taste!”
“I like comfortable rooms,” Annabel said, refusing to feel defensive. “Look at how warm and cosy it looks! And there’s a skylight—Melchior, did you choose this room so that you could sneak out when you needed to?”
“I warned you, Firebrand!” said Melchior wrathfully, pushing them both through the door and closing it. “I won’t have you being a bad influence on Nan! I disapprove of this friendship utterly!”
“That means yes,” Annabel said, in a loud aside.
“Now there’s an idea!” Isabella said, her eyes kindling. “I think our suite might have a skylight somewhere, too!”
Melchior,
grinning reluctantly, said, “Oh, sit down, the pair of you! There’s a kettle here somewhere. We’ll have a cup of tea.”
“Bless you!” said Isabella earnestly. “We’ve been fetching tea for other girls all afternoon!”
“It’s all right to say you won’t have Isabella being a bad influence on me,” began Annabel, who was just as eager for tea but didn’t see why she had to let Melchior off the hook just for that, “but you weren’t the one who made a footpad shoot himself when our carriage was held up. That was Belle!”
A kettle lid clanged loudly against something wooden. “What happened?”
“Oh, didn’t you know?” Isabella asked innocently. “I thought that’s why you came separately. The carriage was attacked by footpads: we were almost killed!”
Melchior, very pale, said, “There was meant to be a guard—”
“There was,” said Annabel. “And Belle hit one or two of the footpads with her parasol, so it was—”
“Were you hurt?”
“Of course not,” said Annabel loftily, ignoring Melchior’s searching look. “We can take care of ourselves.”
“Nan hurt her hand,” Isabella offered. She smiled sweetly at Annabel’s look of reproach and added in Melchior’s general direction, “You should probably look at it. I think the medical officer who bandaged it was too overcome by devotion to do a proper job.”
“Overcome by—” Melchior raised one brow at Isabella and retrieved the kettle lid. Slowly, he hung the kettle on the fireless hob and snapped his fingers. Annabel couldn’t see the magic it made, but the air in the room felt warmer at once.
“Oh yes! You shouldn’t send young, impressionable guards along to guard female royalty.”
“I’ll remember that,” Melchior said, leaving the kettle to boil, and Annabel to wonder if he knew he’d just confirmed what had only previously been a suspicion in Isabella’s fertile mind.
Raoul might not know exactly who had sent the orders, but it was obvious it had been Melchior himself. And if that was the case, it was likely that there was more in the wind than a few threats.
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