Staff & Crown

by W. R. Gingell

  “Goodness, what a fuss!” said Isabella. “She certainly knows how to lead a room! They’ll be making one long trestle table out of all those separate ones in a moment—yes, there they go! Everyone wants to sit next to her.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t make me do that,” Annabel said, with another sudden tickle of amusement in her belly. “I don’t think it would have worked.”

  “Oh, well, perhaps not!” allowed Isabella. “However, one of my favourite kings is the sort of person you’d much rather not be sitting next to, thank you very much, even if asked, and—”

  “You have an order of favourite kings?”

  “Certainly, I do! The King of Glause is a lovely, sleepy, clever man, and he’s absolutely terrifying. I would have tried to marry him if I wasn’t so frightened of him.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Annabel said, more than slightly worried. Someone who frightened Isabella was someone she didn’t really want to meet.

  “Oh no! He’ll adore you. Just make sure you don’t agree to do anything without thinking it over in fifty different ways first. He’ll still probably manage to get something you didn’t expect, but he might not get the other forty-nine things he wanted, and that’s the most important thing, after all.”

  “I’ll make sure you handle all the negotiations,” said Annabel hastily. “Or your little Papa. What do you think of Lady Selma, Belle? Will she be someone to negotiate with?”

  “Perhaps,” Isabella allowed. “If she’s being paid, that is. If not, it’s unlikely; and given the way she dresses, I find myself doubting that she was promised money. She seems as if she has dressed well all her life. We’ll have to work awfully hard to keep up with her, you know. She won’t be easy to oust when it comes to fashion.”

  “I don’t care,” said Annabel, who didn’t.

  Isabella looked at her with fascinated eyes. “I believe you really don’t,” she said. “Well, we can’t have that.”

  “Why can’t we?” protested Annabel. “Why can’t I be comfortable and not care about fashion?”

  “There is absolutely no reason to sacrifice comfort for fashion—or fashion for comfort, if it comes to that,” said Isabella. “I’m sure I mentioned this when we first met, Nan. When it comes to fashion in New Civet, you’re in a unique position as the future queen. It’s a great shame, because it means that full-figured girls are going to come back into fashion, and that’s not at all good news for me.”

  Annabel sniffed. “What rubbish. At least you have a lovely figure.”

  “Nonsense,” Isabella said. “I’m tall. That’s the best that can be said of me. Tall, and I’ve made sure I know how to stand. You though—you have a figure. And because you’re queen, you’re bound to lead the fashions so long as you listen very carefully to me.”

  “But I want to be—”

  “Comfortable, yes,” nodded Isabella. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve already done some very solid work toward removing the bustle from fashion—we’ll work further on that as the weeks go by. Even more, if the Pretender decides to make a fashion of her own for exaggerated bustles. It’s a distinct possibility; no doubt Lady Caro will think of it if Lady Selma doesn’t. When she comes a cropper we’ll have won that battle by default—two birds with one stone, so to speak. But battle we must, on the field of fashion as well as the field of succession, and there’s no reason why we can’t do so comfortably. Well, Nan—why do you think I made my smuggling garters?”

  “Because you wanted to sneak in contraband,” Annabel said, without hesitation.

  “Yes, but they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “And comfortable,” said Annabel slowly.

  “Exactly so!” Isabella said, in a pleased voice. “Clothes should be beautiful, useful, and comfortable. You wouldn’t think it, but all of my clothes are fitted just so—enough for me to be able to run really very fast at a pinch. That’s what’s important to me. A nice gusset under the arms for freer movement, too, and a gathered pinch at the waist; all made from a nice fabric that allows airflow.”

  It was Annabel’s turn to eye Isabella in fascination. “Did you have to run very fast when you were helping your father at ambassadorial functions?”

  “Of course! And with my complexion I’m bound to look awfully red if I have to scurry about too much without gussets and other allowances. The current fashion for bustles is something of a mixed blessing; I can add some extra material there to make it easier to run, and it’s delightfully easy to smuggle things, but the corresponding weight is something else to think about.”

  “That’s why you wear light materials.”

  “Exactly so. In your case, since you’re bound to be sitting so often and moving about court and drawing rooms so often, I’ve been starting with a higher waistline and a nice bit of gathering at the back. Isn’t it a good thing you’ve got such a slender waist!”

  “A what?” blankly said Annabel, who was quite aware that her waist was at least three inches larger than most of the girls at Trenthams and a good six inches wider around than Isabella’s.

  “Goodness, don’t compare it with mine!” scoffed Isabella. “You have to compare it with the rest of you. Look at me: straight up and down. My hips are barely wider than my waist, and it doesn’t get any better further up. I’m a straight line up and down; it’s why I appreciated bustles so much. Now you—you’ve got actual hips, an actual waist, and what Miss Cornett refers to as ‘your—ahem—décolletage’ is in proportion to your hips. There’s no need to emphasise anything with you. Just a little pinch at the back and a firm-to-loose gathered front, and you’ll be perfectly comfortable. It will be the death-knell for bustles, you mark my words!”

  Annabel tilted her chin toward the swiftly growing table at which Lady Selma and Lady Caro sat together, conversing coolly. Some of the girls now joining it were ones she knew from the classes Isabella ran. “It’s all very well to talk about battling on the field of fashion, but what are we going to do about that?”

  “Continue classes, of course,” said Isabella promptly.

  “I meant what are we going to do about the—”

  “I know,” Isabella assured her. “We continue classes, of course! I may not have mentioned this earlier—”

  Annabel regarded the teapot in despair. “Oh, what now?”

  “Don’t be like that, Nan. The smallest thing!”

  “Don’t tell me—you’ve been running an illicit class in espionage.”

  “If it comes to that, all the classes are illicit,” Isabella began, and added hastily, “All right, all right, perhaps this one is a little more illicit than the others. It’s not exactly espionage, however; it’s a class on Undetected Information Gathering.”

  “Espionage!” Annabel said firmly. “How did that little group not get caught in the raids?”

  “It isn’t a class that can be signed up to,” said Isabella. “Invite only, and dreadfully exclusive. The only way to get in without a personal invitation from me is to find your own way in. I knew which girls were going to be in it before I got here this year. Although, we did have one girl find her own way in this year—”

  “So that’s what that was about!” Annabel declared triumphantly. “I knew I’d figure it out if I kept paying attention!”

  Isabella looked at her in awe. “I know I’ve said it before, Nan, but your resting face is really very deceptive! I never know if you’re paying attention or not! It makes it very difficult for me to know when I’ve really passed something under your nose and when I haven’t.”

  “Good!” Annabel said. She much preferred things that way, and it was probably very good for Isabella to have someone she couldn’t read with perfect ease. Isabella, thought Annabel, got things her own way just a little bit too easily at times. “And I know you were just about to tell me, but how exactly does keeping up classes in Undetected Informatio—Wait. Were you thinking of using the girls as scouts?”

  “Not all of them,” said Isabella thoughtfully. �
��Just one or two of the much better ones, like Alice. If it comes to that, Alice has already been nosing around the school, and a bit of field work will be very good for some of the others, too.”

  “Yes, but is that safe?” Annabel asked doubtfully. “Even if they’re our age—”

  “They’re all first and third year girls,” Isabella said. “It’s no good getting the older girls; they’re already worked into perfectly groomed little Trenthams girls who know better than to be sneaking information where it isn’t offered—unless, of course, it’s in the service of gossip.”

  “Should we really use them like that?”

  “Oh, why not?” Isabella said blithely. “They’ve got to start somewhere, after all.”

  “Yes, but what if it’s more dangerous here than we thought? Lady Selma is here, after all, so why not a couple of footmen and a few maids as well?”

  “That’s the good thing about being in a girl’s school,” Isabella said. “It’s awfully difficult to bring in really dangerous elements. They don’t like dangerous elements in any shape or form, unless they happen to be undergarments. And unless the Old Parrasians or Royalists have found a way into the school that doesn’t involved battering the front gate down or a mountain of paperwork sufficient to frighten the hardiest of revolutionaries, I really don’t think we need worry too much.”

  “Still…” Annabel said reluctantly.

  “Oh, don’t be stick-in-the-mudish about it!” begged Isabella. “The girls want their chance, I do assure you! They’ve been waiting for something like this to happen; in fact, they approached me. Alice has some idea of something happening that she’s been chasing for a little while now, and I really don’t think we could stop her just by forbidding her.”

  “I suppose not,” said Annabel, though she had the suspicion that Alice would stop on the orders of Isabella, even if she didn’t on the orders of Annabel herself. She ate another spoonful of her fruit-covered porridge, wishing that now she could technically eat properly again, she could really enjoy it. If it wasn’t pretenders to the throne, it was worrying about young school girls being hurt in her service.

  “I still think,” she said, remembering the lurch and pistol-crack of the attempt when she and Isabella were travelling to Trenthams, “that it could have been planned this way from the start. The Old Parrasians try to kidnap me so they can put their own queen on the throne, starting now.”

  “It’s possible,” agreed Isabella. “In my experience, the Old Parrasians go straight to the most convenient solutions rather than the elegant. But supposing it occurred to them to get rid of an inconvenient queen, and replace her with one of their own, all before the official introductions. Even if Black Velvet did object—and honestly, Nan, I feel that they would merely slip back into the shadows and bide their time—who would believe them? I’m beginning to think it’s not a bad conclusion of yours.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Annabel said. She was oddly satisfied with that answer. It left her in no doubt at all as to whether she really would fight back. Before she had been annoyed; now she was merely determined. “Belle, if I were to skip a class—”

  “No, no,” objected Isabella. “Impersonal hypotheticals, please, Nan!”

  “All right, all right—if someone were to skip the next class, do you think that someone else would be able to make enough of a distraction that it wouldn’t be noticed?”

  “If the two someones are the ones I’m thinking of, naturally! Are you off to have fun without me, Nan?”

  “Just a bit,” Annabel said. “I need to ask Dannick a few questions, and the sooner the better.”

  Isabella sighed, then grinned. “Never mind. It’s good practise for me to have to be patient. And one can never have too many opportunities for making distractions—it keeps one upon one’s toes.”

  “It keeps everyone else on their toes, too,” said Annabel; and in spite of everything, she grinned too.

  14

  Annabel might have worried briefly about being able to locate Dannick within the space of one class, but he was easily found, after all. He was easily enough found, in fact, that Annabel wondered if he had been watching out for her. She had no sooner wandered into the main, lower hall of the school that led to the grand stairway when he appeared; and, bowing hastily, dragged her away from the hall and into a small antechamber.

  “Are you well, your highness?”

  “Why?” asked Annabel, much amused. Dannick really was a sweet little thing. “Just because of the Pretender? Don’t worry, we’ll deal with her soon. Have you been waiting to speak with me?”

  “I’m glad,” said Dannick, his face lighting up in a smile. “That is, yes—I’ve been waiting for you all morning.”

  “You could have come by our suite,” Annabel told him. “Isabella knows everything, anyway.”

  Dannick, looking uncomfortable, coughed.

  Annabel narrowed her eyes at him, and asked, “Did Melchior ask you not to tell me?”

  Dannick coughed again, this time in surprise. “Well—he didn’t exactly ask me anything.”

  “He ordered you not to tell me anything?”

  “Not exactly,” Dannick said. He looked as though he would have liked to cough again, but found it impolite to cough in her face three times. “He said—that is, he told me that if he found me anywhere near you or your suite, he’d tunnel me into the walls and shut me up there to give me a chance to cool down.”

  “Good grief!” said Annabel, very much startled. “Is there something he doesn’t want me to know as badly as that?”

  “He doesn’t know what I know,” Dannick said. His pleasant face had darkened, and that firm chin of his had become very mulish. “And it’s not that important; it’s just that you asked me particularly, and I wanted to let you know.”

  “This is getting ridiculous!” said Annabel, exasperated. “I really think he’s keeping unimportant things from me and pretending they’re important just to annoy me! Well, I won’t have him threatening you! I’ll tell him so.”

  “If you don’t mind, your highness,” Dannick said diffidently, “I’d like to look after that by myself.”

  Annabel gazed at him for a moment or two. He grew pink under her gaze, but the mulishness of his chin didn’t change, and at last she said, “All right, then. I’ll leave it to you. Tell me if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind, your highness.”

  “All right. What did you have to tell me? I have to go to my next class in half an hour, so you’ll need to be quick.”

  “You asked me to look out for footmen who might be up to something. Ones who were too good to be true, or looked after just one person?”

  “You found one?”

  “Not a footman,” Dannick said, his eyes sparkling, “a maid!”

  “Oh, is that the one Melchior said has been following you around?”

  Dannick went very red. “No! That’s—that’s something else! It’s an awful little girl who—never mind that! Anyway, it was because of that awful little girl that I noticed the other one. She doesn’t take commissions from anyone and keeps her nose in the air, but as soon as that Lady Selma arrived, she was sneaking out of the building and lurking behind bushes to pass notes to the bicycle girls.”

  “The bicycle girls?”

  Dannick nodded. “There are two girls who cycle past the school wall every day. They’ve been doing it since the start of term, and Jess said—”

  Annabel, still very much amused, couldn’t help asking, “Is Jess the awful little girl?”

  “Yes,” admitted Dannick. “But I didn’t encourage her, your highness!”

  “I don’t think she would have needed encouragement,” Annabel said. She could understand exactly why Jess found Dannick attractive—he had the same air of impoverished nobility that Jess herself had. Annabel wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Dannick was the third son of a rich family, or even the first son of recently impoverished nobility. Jess would have hail
ed him as like called to like. “Did she tell you to tell me, as well?”

  “Yes. She found out that I’m helping you and said since she’s helping too, we ought to team up. Now I can’t get rid of her, no matter what I do.”

  “I wouldn’t try, if I were you,” Annabel advised him. “She’s a clever girl, and not very stand-offish.”

  “Yes, your highness,” Dannick said. “I did get that impression. At any rate, Jess said that the bicycle girls have been riding past every day, but this time, they stopped to pick up something white from the road. I’d just seen Lady Selma’s pet maid lurking behind the bushes before that, but I wasn’t high enough to see who she was passing the note to. Jess was coming back from the village, so she saw the bicycle girls while I saw the maid.”

  Annabel nodded in satisfaction. “So Lady Selma is passing notes outside the school. I wonder who they’re going to.”

  Dannick, looking bashful again, said, “I made a few inquiries, your highness.”

  “Oh, well done you!” Annabel said cordially. “However did you manage that without letting Melchior and Raoul know?”

  Dannick appeared to struggle with himself. “Well, actually, your highness—that was Jess, too. She said she didn’t want to be left out of it, and really I didn’t have the heart not to let her help. I think that’s the most awful thing about her; I just haven’t the heart to say no to her about anything.”

  Annabel made a brief, successful attempt not to laugh. “Did she follow the bicycle girls?”

  “This morning. They’re boarding at the Red Hen, and according to the landlady, they bike all day, every day. The cycle out from the Red Hen every morning at nine o’clock, pass the school, and take the road out of the village with a packed lunch. They don’t come back until it’s well into the afternoon, either.”

  “They must be very sturdy girls,” Annabel said doubtfully. “What else is there when you leave the village in that direction? Another village?”