As if on cue, Bertie himself tore into the library, the raven flying fast on his heels, squawking indignantly. The child was laughing, waving three black feathers triumphantly in one hand. Under his arm, he clutched an oversized volume.
"Villain child!" the raven screeched.
"Bertie!" Hippolyta cried. "What have you done to Trevalyen?"
Bertie stopped in his tracks and looked about him. It was clear from his expression he had imagined the library to be empty. Now, four sets of eyes stared indignantly back at him.
"Why, Aunt Polly," he began, smiling sweetly. "Good morning."
"Answer my question, Bertie."
"Oh! The feathers, you mean?" He bit his lower lip and set down his book carefully. "I found them in the passage just now."
Trevalyen screeched and walked about in front of his mistress, displaying a sadly depleted set of tail feathers. Hippolyta sighed. "Bertie, I do not think these feathers dropped by chance."
"But, Aunt Polly," he coaxed, "I am sure this old bird can spare me a few. I just needed a few for a little spell I have found. You must let me tell you…"
"Forgive me if I ask you to spare me! Now you must go to Jane and…" Hippolyta stopped suddenly. Jane was gone. Who would look after Bertie? She did not like to think of losing her staff, one after another. Loyal though they were, there were limits!
As if Hippolyta had not enough to worry about, a distraught Lady Bristlethwaite, trailed by a fretful Sir Godfrey, entered the library.
"Lady Polly," she cried, "I am afraid my stepdaughters and I must leave at once."
"Whatever is the matter?"
Before speaking further, Lady Bristlethwaite cast a meaningful glance at Hippolyta and surreptitiously gestured toward the younger members of the group.
"Diana," Hippolyta called. "Would you and Edward be so kind as to take Bertie down to the kitchen and feed him some bread and water?"
"Certainly, Aunt Polly," she agreed. "Have you also an unoccupied dungeon?"
"Chain him to the wall!" Trevalyen croaked.
"I salute your sentiments," Hippolyta said wryly, "but I believe the nursery will do well enough for now."
When the trio had departed, she turned once more to Lady Bristlethwaite.
"Oh, Lady Polly! You cannot believe the trouble! I must take Maria and Sophia away before they disgrace themselves!"
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I just found them fighting over your butler. It seems last night's spell has not worn off. And—I do not like to say it—but I do not think your Nigglesby is sufficiently discouraging their advances!"
"Oh, dear! I assumed the spell would fade when the moon set. I shall have to quiz Bertie about his method. I am so sorry, Lady Bristlethwaite."
"So you see, I must go. Take them to London or Brighton or some other place where they may forget him. After a time, I shall return to my Godfrey. But," she sighed heavily, "duty first."
"Polly?" St. Ives leaned over and whispered in her ear. She felt her eyes grow wider.
"St. Ives! What a remarkable plan! The very thing!" She went immediately to her desk and picked up a quill pen. "We have a solution of sorts, Lady Bristlethwaite. I am writing to my dear brother, Reginald. I believe he and his lady would like nothing better than to receive your stepdaughters and show them Brighton. I shall ask my Sadie to go along. I shouldn't wonder a new gown—or two or three—will set things straight between us."
"Oh! Lady Polly! You do not think your brother will mind their arriving without warning?"
"Of course not!" she smiled as she wrote. "I am certain he will be flattered by my emulation."
When she had finished, she sealed the letter.
"Might you not consider adding a postscript, love?" St. Ives asked.
She looked at him blankly for a moment, then suddenly recalled what he must mean. On the outside she scrawled, Sorry. Bertie, too.
In the next hour, a concerted effort by the staff saw both the Honorables and Bertie prepared for their journey. As it turned out, Sadie agreed to accompany the appalling trio only on promise of a generous dowry to which St. Ives, Lady Bristlethwaite, and Sir Godfrey happily contributed. Shortly after, the carriage pulled away, the Honorables' tearful faces at the windows.
Nigglesby lifted a hand in farewell. As soon as they had disappeared over the crest of the hill, he turned to his mistress. "Ye was right to interfere, Lady Polly," he muttered. "A bad lot, that."
"I am glad to see you are not broken-hearted," Hippolyta said as she and the others turned back toward the Hall.
"Not I. 'Twas talking weddings they was. I made a narrow escape."
"Indeed," she agreed.
Inside, the depleted party gathered once more in the library. It suddenly struck Hippolyta that the romantic pairings were far more marked now the other three had departed. That was well enough for the older couples, but for Diana and Edward? It was still too soon for them, she was certain. Best to keep Diana very busy.
"Diana!" She beckoned to the girl. "How nice we shall have this time to become better acquainted with one another. You mentioned before that you would like to begin training in one of the areas of magic."
"I would indeed," Diana told her.
"Perhaps," Sir Godfrey suggested, coming forward with Lady Bristlethwaite, "you might address yourselves to our particular difficulty."
Diana and Edward listened with a great deal of interest as Hippolyta recounted Sir Godfrey's sad tale, although they took care not to encounter one another's eyes. They knew quite well from what they had chanced to see the morning before that the pair had found their way to love, despite convention and adversity.
"And so," Hippolyta concluded, "the Curse of the Mimms prevents Sir Godfrey's marrying unless the spell is broken. Our only aid is a ring from the Mimms family. I am sorry to say I have not found it useful. There is a faint echo of enchantment about it, but I suspect it is only magic in the way of most family rings."
"I do not like to presume," Diana said, "for I know I am inexperienced, but…"
"Yes?" Hippolyta prompted.
"Well, have you thought to look in this spell book?" She indicated the book Bertie had brought in with him earlier. "It is really very useful and quite simple to use."
She brought it to her aunt who picked it up and riffled through it. "Where did you get this, Diana?"
She shrugged. "It was just on a shelf."
"I thought this was locked away," she whispered. "And to think Bertie was marching about with it while Lothian was here."
"What is it?" Diana asked.
"As you say, it is useful and uncomplicated. But quite potent. It can be extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. I do not like to use it often, but perhaps we might just peek to see if there is a way to help our friends."
She set the book on her lap and shut her eyes for a moment, then opened it seemingly at random. As she did so, a stirring tune came from the pages.
"Battle Hymn of the Mimms," Sir Godfrey whispered to Lady Bristlethwaite.
"I do not quite understand," Hippolyta said after a few moments. "According to this, your ring should be quite magic. It was made by a very powerful magician, and its potency should not fade unless…"
She was silent for a long time.
"Unless what?" Sir Godfrey asked.
"I do not like to say aloud," Hippolyta told him in a low voice. Sir Godfrey bent toward her and she whispered to him for several moments. Suddenly, he broke into an enormous smile.
"Come kiss me, love," he called to Lady Bristlethwaite. "All is well! The Curse is ended! I am no Mimms!"
"Not a Mimms? Whatever do you mean?" the lady cried.
He threw his arms wide. "I am a bastard!"
"Oh, my!" said Diana.
Lady Bristlethwaite launched herself into Sir Godfrey's arms with unbridled enthusiasm.
"Perhaps," Hippolyta suggested tactfully, "we should take a stroll. Edward, I am sure Diana would like to see the stone circle by daylight. Come, St. Ive
s."
A few moments later, St. Ives and Hippolyta walked arm in arm through the summer fields, falling several paces behind the younger pair.
"So," St. Ives smiled down at her, "it seems as if all the troublesome items have at last been checked off your list. Evil intruders, missing nephews, besotted guests, Curses on Mimmses."
"Indeed," she agreed. "I should not have doubted. Magic always seems to find a way."
"So it does," he murmured, taking her into his arms. "So it does."
Epilogue
Hippolyta and Julian sat in bed, drinking chocolate and discussing an extremely interesting tract on mystic cabala. It had been a remarkable year since their marriage. To her delight, Hippolyta had learned the joys of love and intimacy. She had borne a child almost painlessly thanks to Julian's knowledge of homeopathy and her own herb lore. Their son, Oberon, slept peacefully now in the nursery.
Another Midsummer had passed, marked most indelibly by Jane's emergence from the enchanted woods. The servant was accompanied by a skittish black dog she called Lothian. It had immediately yipped at the sight of the bonfire and run howling into the night.
"The less said about him, the better," Jane had told them bluntly. "My friends in the forest made short work of him and his headstrong ways."
Indeed, Jane's general demeanor was so much improved after a year with the faerie folk that Hippolyta and St. Ives asked her to stay on as nurse to their child. Now her warbled notes were as familiar in the house as mysterious thumps and spectral music.
Edward had gone off to London soon after the wedding and wrote often of his adventures there. From time to time, he mentioned having encountered Diana at this rout or that ball, but not so often or in such warm terms as gave Hippolyta cause for concern.
"Listen to this, love." Julian quoted from the pamphlet he held, " 'The rule of nine may be applied to the names of individuals.' "
"Ah! Like arithmancy?"
"It would seems so. I must try this with little Oberon's name and we shall see what sort of child we have got."
"A very sweet child, I am sure," she cried. "We do not need divination to determine that!"
"You are quite right, of course, my love, only I would like to see…"
"Lady Polly!" Jane's wail came from the corridor. "Mr. St. Ives! You must come at once!"
St. Ives and Hippolyta sprang from their bed, sending chocolate and tracts flying in their hurry. They ran to the nursery where Jane tearfully met them at the door. "I cannot think what he must have eaten to bring this on! If he falls to the floor, I am done for!"
They pushed past her and hurried into the nursery. They stopped short.
"What on earth, Polly… !"
Gurgling happily, the baby floated high above their heads.
"Shhh! Do be calm, my love," Hippolyta cautioned, "and not startle him. It would seem our baby is levitating!"
A Midsummer's Magic Page 18