The Lion Lies Waiting

by Glenn Quigley

  “You’re right, I suppose. It was just such a shock seeing her in front of all those people, talking about…” He lowered his voice, leaned in and whispered: “…revolution. I mean, that’s what she was saying, wasn’t it?”

  “It certainly sounded like it,” Duncan said.

  “Maybe we just got the wrong end of the stick,” Robin said. “Let’s wait and see what she ’as to say for ’erself.”

  “Typical,” Duncan said, rolling his eyes.

  “What is?”

  “You. Always giving everyone the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Because the alternative is thinkin’ ’is mum is a…a…a rabble-rouser,” Robin said, searching for the right word.

  “Is it really such a stretch? Aren’t we talking about the woman who turned the entire village of Blashy Cove against you for most of your life?”

  Robin frowned.

  “Exactly,” Duncan said, triumphantly folding his arms.

  Mrs. Firebrace was busy with other guests and the men were instead served by a thoroughly disinterested young man with arching eyebrows and pursed lips. They ordered three bowls of stew and drinks.

  “I don’t suppose you have any scrumpy from Merryapple, do you?” Edwin asked.

  “You asked me the same thing last night,” the young man said, looking him up and down like he was something which had been scraped off the floor of the privy.

  “Did I?”

  Robin and Duncan nodded in unison.

  “Several times,” the man continued, “and the answer is still no.”

  “Well, no harm in asking, is there?” Edwin said, trying to laugh it off.

  The young man, known in local parlance as a dash, looked him up and down once more and without saying a word turned and walked away.

  “Friendly lad,” Edwin observed.

  “It’s your own fault, for askin’ for it. Again.”

  “I know, but I don’t remember asking for it last night. I must have had more to drink than I realised. And I’m chacking, my mouth is dry as a bone. I just want a glass of cider…”

  “They make their own here,” Duncan said.

  Edwin glanced over to a nearby table where a withered old man nursed half a glass of a muddy bronze liquid.

  “Yes they do, and it looks…charming,” Edwin said, correcting himself lest he be overheard.

  “As if you can taste the difference, you drunken tuss,” Duncan joked.

  “I hate you,” Edwin said. “Only a little, but I do.”

  “Pfff, you love me,” Duncan scoffed. “I’m basically your closest, dearest friend.”

  “Urgh, that’s actually true. When did it all go so wrong for me?” Edwin threw his hands up in mock despair.

  “When you fell in with this lump,” Duncan said, cocking a thumb toward Robin.

  “Oi, you,” Robin said. “Anyway, I thought I were your dearest friend, Edwin?”

  “Doesn’t count. You’re sleeping with him, I’m not. Yet,” Duncan said, with a theatrical wink and a grin.

  “You wish, little man,” Edwin laughed. “Well, boys, I hope you brought your finery because tonight we’re dining at Chase Manor.”

  “What, all of us?” Duncan asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Nope.”

  “Duncan, don’t start,” Robin sighed.

  “Oh, no, I’m not going back out there,” Duncan said, folding his arms and emphatically shaking his head. “You brought me here to show you around town, you can find your own way to the Manor—it’s out towards the countryside, big place with its own lake, you can’t miss it.”

  “Ah, come on, it won’t be so bad. You’re ’ere now, you might as well make the most of it!” Robin said. “Fancy ’ouse, nice meal, warm fire. And you like the Ladies, they’re good fun.”

  “No chance. I’m staying put until it’s time to go home,” Duncan said determinedly, tapping the table with his finger for emphasis.

  “Get Mrs. Thingie to show you,” he said, pointing to the innkeeper whose named he’d already forgotten. “I’m sure she’d happily escort you for a few coins.”

  There was a snort from the old man with the unfortunate cider as he leaned in close. His breath reeked of stale pies and cheap alcohol.

  “Mrs Firebrace won’t show you nothin’. She don’t leave the inn.”

  “What, never?” Edwin asked.

  “Not once in over thirty years,” he said hoarsely, leaning back again.

  “Whyever not?” Duncan asked. “Hullo? Sir, I say, whyever not?”

  The old man’s eyes had closed, and his lips purred a gentle snore.

  “Funny sort of person,” Edwin said.

  “Funny sort o’ place,” Robin replied. “Look, Duncan, ’ow often are you goin’ to get the chance to dine at a big manor ’ouse? There’ll be all sorts to look at there, all fancy chairs and tables, all them carved bannisters and covin’ and such. You love all that stuff.”

  “Even still…” Duncan began.

  “You told me once when you lived ’ere you’d ’ave loved a chance to make a piece of furniture for the ’ouse. Well, this is the next best thing, isn’t it?”

  “Not really,” Duncan said.

  “If you don’t come, Eva will be mad at you,” Edwin offered.

  “You’re right. I’ll come.”

  “Very wise,” Edwin teased.

  Duncan gave him a hard stare, then smiled, then frowned.

  A LITTLE LATER on, the men parted ways and went to prepare for dinner. Duncan opened the door to his room on the sixth floor, startling the woman on his bed. She turned away from him sharply.

  “Oh. Mrs...uh, Firebrace, isn’t it? Hullo.”

  The innkeeper was sitting on the edge of his bed, a handkerchief in her hand. Her eyes were red.

  “Mr. Hunger. So sorry, I was just doing some…some cleaning.”

  She stood, clearly trying to regain her composure. “We are short-handed, what with Mrs. Farriner no longer employed here, and with no time to replace her, I’ve had to take over her duties myself. I think…I think the dust must have aggravated my eyes.”

  She dabbed the handkerchief against her face as she brushed past him.

  “Quite alright, Mrs. Firebrace. Quite alright,” Duncan said. “Mr. Reed speaks of you often, you know.”

  He could tell she was upset and couldn’t think of what to say. He thought perhaps mention of her brother might cheer her up.

  “How nice. George was always so kind. I…I miss him terribly.”

  “I suppose both of you running inns doesn’t leave much time for visits.”

  “No. Quite. No,” she said. “He hasn’t been here since my daughter… Well, he hasn’t been here for a long time. Good day, Mr. Hunger.”

  AS THE MEN travelled towards Chase Manor, snow was falling sluggishly from a dreary sky. Sleigh bells on the horses’ neck straps tingled merrily, warning others on the dark country lanes of their approach. The windows of the little carriage had frosted over and Duncan, sitting again under Edwin’s arm, found he was glad of the extra body heat. Robin fiddled with the teal cravat around his own neck the whole way from town.

  “I never liked these things,” Robin grumbled.

  “But you look so dapper in it,” Edwin said.

  “And not at all like a lump of boiled ham tied with a bow,” Duncan said, earning him a friendly slap on the leg from Robin.

  When they arrived, they were greeted by a striking young footman who introduced himself simply as Drake. He held the carriage door open and stood with a smirk as Robin dislodged himself from the conveyance with all the grace of an arthritic rhino. Duncan took an immediate dislike to him. It was fine for Duncan to mock Robin, they were friends, but woe betide anyone else who dared. He turned to Edwin to see if he’d spotted the look, but he was busy admiring the imposing manor. Duncan straightened his own waistcoat and set his jaw, trying to look tough.

  “Boys!” Eva called to the men from the cold, marbled foyer. “Always so punctua
l, Edwin, it’s what I like about you. Solid! Reliable! Dependable!”

  The Ladies Wolfe-Chase wore the most beautiful gowns, as always. Eva was in a loose, duck-egg blue silk mantua and Iris a pretty chemise de la reine decorated with emerald ribbons. Eva kissed each of the men on the cheek.

  “Thought we might be late, Duncan here couldn’t decide what to wear,” Edwin said.

  Duncan ears immediately flushed red.

  “And you settled on this?” Eva said, winking as she waved her hand up and down Duncan’s outfit.

  “Eva! Ignore her, Mr. Hunger, she’s a terrible tease. I’m ever so pleased you came along,” Iris said, taking his arm.

  “Thank you for inviting me. And please, it’s Duncan,” he said.

  He was already assessing his surroundings, the exquisite workmanship of the grand staircase, the engraving of the heavy oak doors, the fabulous mosaic floor with its ship’s wheel pattern. He found focusing on such details distracted him from any social discomfort. While he had been to dinner with them in Wolfe-Chase Lodge once or twice in recent months, he still didn’t feel as though he’d spent enough time with the Ladies Wolfe-Chase to be fully relaxed, although they had always been perfectly civil to him. He was actually glad Eva was comfortable enough to tease him in such a friendly manner. He was very much in the nascent stages of a new friendship, when one is still trying, consciously or not, to impress, or at least to not make a complete fool of one’s self. He and Eva shared a similar sensibility and sense of humour, and he was well aware of how churlish they both could appear to those who didn’t know them well.

  The Ladies led them to a sumptuous drawing room where another footman had prepared drinks. They gathered around the crackling, gilded fireplace. Robin, in particular, appeared grateful for the warmth after the chilly coach ride from town and stood with his back to the roaring fire. He went to lift the long coat-tails of his fawn-toned linen suit to warm his voluptuous backside but stopped after a swift disapproving look from Edwin. Duncan didn’t think the Ladies had noticed, and doubted if they would have minded, but Edwin was apparently on his best behaviour and so Robin had to be as well. It irked him a tad to see Edwin controlling Robin’s behaviour. When he and Robin were together, Duncan would never have stopped him from behaving in whichever manner felt natural. However, he told himself every relationship has its own language, and Edwin and Robin were still deciphering theirs.

  “I wonder who’ll be joining us,” Iris said.

  “You’re expecting more guests?” Edwin asked.

  “Knowing Father, it will be a business associate,” Eva replied, sipping her drink.

  “Oh, I like to think I’m far more than that,” came the honeyed voice from the doorway.

  Duncan’s blood ran cold at the sound of the oh-so-familiar voice and he sprang from the sofa. Standing there were two masked figures—a tall, svelte man and a gracile woman. The man wore an immaculate and ostentatious ivory suit with gold filigree. Across his face he wore a fox mask, similar to the ones the Merryapple men had seen in the Roost, but clearly far older and more exquisite. Like all of the council masks, regardless of the animal they were meant to represent, it was crafted almost entirely from feathers. His was white at the snout, moving into a deep rust colour at the top of the head. The ears were from a pheasant’s tail and small hackle feathers used in places gave it a sense of movement, a life and texture that was, for some elusive reason, rather unsettling. In the fashion of the island, it covered only half the man’s face. Below the animal snout was a clean-shaven, dimpled chin and a wide mouth stretched into a practised smile.

  “Lady Eva Wolfe-Chase. Such a pleasure,” the man said, taking her hand and kissing it.

  “Mr. Baxbary Mudge. Such a disappointment,” she replied, barely looking at him.

  Duncan’s whole body shook, his heart thumping in his chest, in his ears, even his eyes throbbed, and coloured dots formed around the edges of his vision. Robin moved between him and the newcomer, a gesture Duncan greatly appreciated and he grabbed the back of Robin’s jacket to steady himself.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Robin whispered.

  Duncan nodded.

  “And this is the lovely woman who stole your heart,” Baxbary continued, turning his attention to Iris, who stiffened her back.

  “If it hadn’t been for you, Eva and I would be cheerfully married now,” he said.

  Eva audibly scoffed. “Hardly. Even if I hadn’t been fortunate enough to find Iris, I still never would have married you.”

  “Oh, I think Marley might have convinced you,” Baxbary said. “Regrettably, only one other council member was able to attend this evening, but luckily for us all, she is the fairest by far. May I introduce Ms. Loveday Bezzle, better known as Magpie of the Blackrabbit Council.”

  Eva looked ready to roll her eyes as she nodded a welcome, while Iris dipped slightly into a reflexive curtsey. Ms. Bezzle smiled warmly if not altogether believably. Her mask was made of black and white feathers set around a short, dark beak. Her neck was long and elegant, her hair shorter than was usual for women of the island and a translucent pearl colour which almost shimmered. Her eyes were dark and serious, and she wore a dress of the weakest rose.

  “It’s been ever such a long time since we’ve crossed paths, Lady Eva,” Ms. Bezzle said. “Married life obviously agrees with you.”

  “When I saw you both standing there,” Eva said with audible disdain, “I had thought you two a couple, come to dinner together. I hadn’t realised this was to be an official gathering of the council.”

  “Oh, no, Baxbary and I aren’t romantically involved,” Ms. Bezzle said, laughing.

  “Please let me introduce our other guests, good friends from Merryapple. Mr. Edwin Farriner, his partner Mr. Robin Shipp, and—”

  “Mr. Duncan Hunger,” Baxbary purred, interrupting his hostess. “Why are you hiding behind this strapping gentleman, Duncan? Not going to greet an old friend properly? We haven’t seen each other in such a long time.”

  Baxbary’s grin was so self-satisfied Edwin later confessed to experiencing an almost overwhelming compulsion to smack him right in the mouth.

  “I’m not…” Duncan’s voice cracked, “…I’m not hiding.”

  “You two are acquainted?” Iris said, surprised.

  “Oh yes,” Baxbary said, “he and I go way back. You could say he made me the man I am today. Wouldn’t you agree, Duncan?”

  As he spoke, his long, smooth fingers undid the silken knot at the back of his head. With a single, fluid motion he slipped his fox mask off and set it on a nearby table, in front of a lush evergreen bough set with jewels. For the first time in ten years Duncan laid eyes on the face he hated more than any other.

  Baxbary was in his forties and strikingly attractive, with piercing blue eyes and a chiselled jaw. His dark, wavy hair was mostly slicked back and entirely controlled. Not a single one out of place. Ms. Loveday Bezzle also removed her mask. She was older than Baxbary, but how much older, Duncan couldn’t say for certain. A decade and more, certainly.

  He said nothing and stood with his hands clenched as tightly as he could, his knuckles turning white. His mouth had completely dried up and he was bolted to the spot. The tension was broken by a polite cough from the footman in the hallway. Dinner was ready.

  “Shall we?” Eva said.

  She and Iris glided from the room, leading the guests towards the dining room. Baxbary escorted Loveday Bezzle out, still wearing an interminable grin on his face. The three men from Merryapple lingered behind.

  “What’s going on, who is he?” Edwin asked in hushed tones.

  “He’s Baxbary Mudge, Fox of Blackrabbit Council,” Duncan said. “And my former lover.”

  “Duncan, I take it back,” Robin said. “You don’t ’ave to be ’ere, we can leave.”

  Duncan’s gaze never shifted from where Baxbary Mudge had stood.

  “No. No, I’ll stay,” he said. “I’m not giving him the satisfaction of running
. Again.”

  Chapter Nine

  “WELCOME TO MOONWATCH,” Eva said.

  Robin gasped as he passed through a set of carved oak doors leading to the largest room on the topmost floor. The outward-facing wall and ceiling were entirely glass and held in place by a metal lattice incorporating a huge letter “C” set in a ship’s wheel.. Eva casually explained how the metalwork was in fact thin piping through which hot water was pumped, keeping the glass from fogging over or becoming covered with snow, with the runoff captured by a series of hidden gutters built right into the masonry. The room was supposed to offer the most spectacular dining in all Blackrabbit, under a canopy of stars. However, that night the winter sky had other ideas and the Manor lay under endless, unbroken cloud.

  They all took their seats around the long dining table and admired the lush portraits of Chase family members throughout the centuries hanging on the walls. Most of them were set in the magnificent grounds of a large house, similar to, but noticeably different from, the one in which they were hung. The current house first appeared in a painting of Eva’s grandparents titled Humfrie & Allyne Chase at home and was dated 1718. It appeared again in the portraits of Eva’s aunt and uncles—Ellinora, Alnet, Willmott, and George.

  Eva sat at one end of the long, dark table with her back to the glass wall, with Iris on one side of her and Edwin on the other. Edwin gently nudged Robin to remind him to remove his cap, which he dutifully set on the floor underneath his chair. The little tussock of white hair sprouting from above his forehead was rarely seen in company, and Robin ran a fleshy palm over it to flatten it down.

  “I wasn’t sure if your cap ever came off,” Eva teased. “I was certain you even kept it on in bed.”

  Eva winked at Edwin and he chuckled. So did Duncan, much to her delight. She liked him a great deal and wished they had crossed paths when he’d lived in Port Knot. He was abrasive and sharp-witted. Qualities she greatly admired.

  Robin’s attention was on the most prominently displayed painting, and he craned his thick neck for a better look. It showed a young Marley Chase, with his jet black hair and broad, leonine nose, seated on a golden chair, with two young girls at his feet. One pale skinned, the other dark.