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sandtreeI've decided that instead of posting my entire NaNoWriMo in one go at the end of November, I'm going to start posting it in parts now. I think it will be easier to consume that way, for anyone who feels like reading it.
So, tonight, we start with the first two chapters:
Note: All right, this story was originally meant to be a take off of Regency fantasy novels. It's not clever enough to be a parody or a satire, but that was supposed to be the general theme. So the first few chapters are in that kind of style, you know, "Oh, quite! Well, rather! Indeed! Good Lord! Shocking!" The later chapters tend to move away from that, as the story becomes more and more absurd. Also, this wasn't written for the public, and is completely unedited (aside from the stuff I caught at the time), so therefore, it sucks, but that's all right, because it's definitely not meant to be taken seriously. Happy reading. XD
The Magical Adventures of Ladies and Gentlemen
by
Alison Sandra Trottier
Note: Now you know my full name if you didn't already, so no stalking, plz.
Chapter One – A Most Outrageous Back Story
Martha Bright was neither pretty nor clever, and at seventeen, had no claim to experience or wisdom; but she did possess the uncommon ability of performing magic. This ability was in fact so uncommon, that she was the only person in the world who could perform it, aside from the Clandestine Council, and Finnegan O’Fear. The Clandestine Council was very concerned about this fact, and warned Martha to never perform magic if she could help it – and for the most part she listened to them, because she had never done anything useful with magic in any case.
Martha’s family, the Brights, had once been the rulers of the kingdom of Valmell, which was an island that lay to the south of England, west of France, and south east of Ireland. They had ruled the island kingdom unopposed for two thousand four hundred and eighty seven years, until the plague arrived in 1349, and killed them all. Only the king’s wife, Queen Emmeline, survived, and she fled to the Isle of Man, which had mysteriously remained plague free.
In the absence of the ruling family, the Irish swept in, and the throne of Valmell was claimed by the powerful and hideous Lord Macalby, who from thence on styled himself King Macalby of Valmell.
But what King Macalby, and indeed, everyone else did not know, was that when Queen Emmeline fled, she was pregnant with a son, the heir of the throne of Valmell. Her son was born in the Isle of Man, but by the time the plague had receded, and it would have been safe for her to return to Valmell, King Macalby, having grown quite fond of his new power, prohibited it.
The Queen was extremely insulted, and immediately organised an uprising. There was an attempt to unseat King Macalby and place the Queen’s son, Frederick, on the throne, but it failed spectacularly, and the Bright family was exiled from Valmell.
If they had still been in possession of the Crown of Righteousness, of course, this might all have been averted, for the Crown of Righteousness declared the true ruler of Valmell, and set the unworthy on fire. Unfortunately, the Crown of Righteousness had been lost since a wager by King Rupert III went awry in 1246.
The Brights’ exile was finally lifted in 1699, when the memory of their days of rule had faded into a half formed recollection in the national conscious. King Macalby the current deemed them no threat, and so they had been living very co-operatively in Valmell from 1699 until the present, 1805 – one hundred and six years.
Our heroine, Martha, had in fact just returned to Valmell after a self imposed exile of one year. She had been spending a lengthy visit in London, England, with a lately married friend, Elspeth MacMacster, or rather, Mrs. Bland, as she was now known by her married name. The visit had been very enjoyable, and Martha had found London society agreeable (though perhaps rather tiring), but she was happy to be returning to her home in Valmell at long last.
There was one thing about her prolonged stay in England that was weighing on her mind, however, and it was this: that while she was there, her magic had seemed much stronger than she was used to it being at home. She had sometimes even performed it without strictly meaning to. The afternoon of a very important ball, she had found her best gown creased, and had somehow managed to iron it out using only her mind.
But it was another occurrence that was causing her the most agitation. She had been walking along the Thames one fine summer day, with Mrs. Bland, when a shadowy Frenchman stepped out of the shadows and advanced toward her. She had known instantly that it was Pierre Noir, a notorious French spy, who delighted in attempting to bring down the Bright family by any means possible.
Knowing that he would almost certainly attack in a devious manner, Martha struck out with all the force of her mind – Pierre Noir was thrown back, and landed with a resounding crack in the middle of the Thames. He did not appear to emerge from the water.
“Oh, gracious!” Mrs. Bland had exclaimed. “I really think we ought to go home now, Martha.”
Martha had not argued. She had been trying to put the incident out of her mind since its occurrence, but it was difficult. She worried that the Clandestine Council would discover that she had been performing unauthorised magic, and punish her somehow. But so far, no robed men had come knocking at her door, and after having been back home in Valmell for two weeks, she was beginning to feel more at ease.
Martha had arrived in the capital city of Bogbury to much fanfare. Her family’s estate was in the country, but as her brother was from home, travelling the continent, and their parents were dead, she instead opted to stay in town with her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Haley, and their children, Adam Haley and Jane Haley.
Mr. and Mrs. Haley were good natured people, and very happy to be connected with a family as important as the Brights, although the Brights’ claim to the throne seemed eroded. They kept a good house in town, and were always pleased to have their niece come for extended visits.
Adam Haley was twenty one, and blind as a bat, but sharp as a tack, as his mother would say. He was a master fighter, pianist, and chess player. Although he had many talents, his father was wary of letting him inherit his fortune, as his blindness could present a severe obstacle. Adam was a great favourite with his sister and cousins, and was fond of entertaining them, but he did not have a rambunctious personality – he preferred to observe rather than participate when he could.
Of course, when the situation called for it, he could participate very effectively. When Napoleon Bonaparte had moved to conquer Austria, Adam Haley had challenged him to fight for it, and Adam had won; but he had conceded Austria to Napoleon in the end, because he did not know what he would do with it.
Jane Haley was a slight, shy girl. She had a pleasing figure and a pretty face, but she wore spectacles, and kept her hair and dress plain. Her family intended her to marry Frederick Bright, determined to see her as Queen of Valmell if he managed to regain the throne, but Jane secretly hated the idea – she liked her cousin, but had absolutely no desire to marry him. Instead, she harboured a sincere wish to found an academy for the study of magic, something that her parents strictly forbid her from speaking of, at risk of bringing the pleasure of the Clandestine Council upon theml; and besides, founding academies was simply not something that a young lady did.
Martha had come back to Bogbury at a most convenient time. It was summer, and so nearly everyone important was in town. The season was just getting into full swing, and there was to be a very significant ball the following week. It was being given by Mr. Blackstone, a gentleman of great fortune who had recently arrived from England. Holding a ball was certainly a wonderful way to endear oneself to the entire neighbourhood. Martha thought this did him credit, and anxiously awaited the night. She looked forward to it, knowing that she would likely meet with many friends and acquaintances who she had not had the pleasure of seeing in over a year.
Chapter Two – The Clandestine Council Catches On
When Martha Bright had been with her relatives in Valmell some two weeks, she happened to take a walk with her cousin Jane after breakfast on a particularly fine day. It was the first of July, but not yet stiflingly hot. They walked to the Shocking River, and stood upon the Ruddy Bridge, looking out over the north side of Bogbury.
“This reminds me,” said Martha, after a few moments of contemplation, “of a very strange incident that happened while I was in London.”
“Do tell,” her cousin prompted.
“Why, I was walking with Elspeth by the River Thames, when I happened upon Pierre Noir – or rather, he happened upon me.”
“Pierre Noir! Indeed?”
“There was no mistaking it. He was a small fellow, with black hair, an outrageous moustache, and a French accent. Not only that, but Napoleon Bonaparte’s eyebrows hung quite conspicuously on a chain around his neck. Of course you remember the outcry when he stole them?”
“But of course, how could anyone forget? Bonaparte was furious, and everyone was shocked at the deviousness of Pierre Noir. But pray, go on – what should Pierre Noir of all people be doing in London? It is quite shocking that he should be there!”
“Excuse me, cousin, but it is not shocking in the least. Besides tormenting Napoleon, Pierre Noir has made it his goal in life to ruin the Bright family. I suspect that he had come to London to kill me.”
“Oh, dear! How on earth did you escape?”
“Well, that is the thing. I did magic.”
“Magic!”
“Indeed, magic. I know that I am not supposed to, but I did not even know that I could do magic like this. I willed him gone, and he quite flew straight into the middle of the Thames.”
Jane looked frightened but admiring. “Oh, Martha – do you think he drowned?”
“One can only hope,” said Martha, turning and staring out across the Shocking River, letting her hands rest on the rough stone of the wall separating them from the murky water. “But I know Pierre Noir too well to think that he did not somehow extricate himself from his situation. He is very conniving.”
“Indeed,” Jane agreed, “he is French, after all.”
As Jane and Martha were walking back to the Haley residence, a shot rang out behind them. Several people screamed, and Martha spun around just in time to see a shadowy figure cursing and ducking into an alley way.
The two girls picked up their pace, hurrying through the streets, and only resting when they were back in the hall of the house.
“Good Lord!” Jane exclaimed, clutching at her chest as she tried to draw breath. “What do you suppose that was all about?”
“I can guess,” said Martha darkly, “and I think we ought to be very thankful that that man only had one shot.”
~
The family sat down to a nice supper that night. Mr. Haley told them all about the trouble he was having with his steward in the country, and how it might call him away for a week or two soon. Mrs. Haley was lamenting his almost certain absence just at the height of the season. Adam was listening in silence. Jane was quiet as well, not certain whether the incident that morning was fit for public consumption; Martha had said nothing.
Just as the pudding was being brought out, a large brick crashed through the window, landing on the table, and shattering Mrs. Haley’s best crockery. Everyone screamed, except for Adam, and the servants were immediately summoned to scour the alley ways and gardens to find the perpetrator.
“There’s a note!” said Jane, unlatching it from the brick, and unfurling the paper. “It’s for you, Martha.”
“Read it aloud, if you please.”
Jane cleared her throat, looking nervous, and read, “Welcome back to Valmell, Miss Bright.” She stared up at her with a shocked look.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Martha, feeling truly sorry. “This is all my fault. If I had known I would be causing you all so much trouble, I never would have presumed to come. I shall leave immediately.”
“Nonsense, my dear girl,” said her uncle kindly. “It is not your fault, but the fault of these stupid people who go about throwing bricks through large glass windows! Window glass is expensive, you know.”
“Indeed,” said her aunt, “although it is all very strange. I wish they would have left a card with the footman like everyone else.”
The servants came back to report that the gardens and alley ways, and streets surrounding the house had been thoroughly searched, and that there was no sign of anyone who could have been responsible for the vandalism.
Everyone went to bed feeling nervous. Martha tossed and turned for hours, until she finally fell into a fitful sleep. She dreamed of indistinct things, and thought she heard the sound of a gunshot. She woke abruptly, to find that someone was knocking on her bedroom door.
“Who is it?” she whispered loudly.
“It’s me, Adam,” came the reply.
Her heart beat slower. It was only Adam. She felt relief wash over her like being plunged into the Thames. “Come in,” she called.
Adam entered, and shut the door behind him. The room was illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight coming in through a crack in the heavy curtains.
“I have discovered footprints,” Adam stated, without preamble. “I believe them to be the footprints of whoever threw that brick through the window tonight, and forgive me for saying that I doubt that note attached to it was meant as a kind welcome.” Martha silently agreed. “I have traced the footprints back to a certain location, and I think you may be surprised by their source.”
“Is is the Clandestine Council?” Martha asked breathlessly. Her heart was pounding fast again now. If the Clandestine Council was trying to kill her, she had no chance at all. She could not fight them and win.
“No,” said Adam, and she felt relief crash over her again, like she had been dumped into the River Avon. “They lead to an inn in a suspect part of town. It is called the Kildare House, and is a favourite haunt of... Frenchmen.”
Martha gasped. Adam put his finger to his lips to shush her.
“But – do you think it could possibly be -- ?”
“Pierre Noir?” She nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “In fact, it seems very likely, unless there is another Frenchman who wants you dead.”
She shook her head. “As far as I know, there is only the one. So I suppose this means that he escaped the Thames, and has followed me back to Valmell. He must be very angry at me now. He always hated me, because of my descent alone, but now that I have dumped him into the Thames, he must be out for blood. They say it is a very filthy river.”
“I lieu of this new development, I think it would be unwise for you and Jane to go out unchaperoned any longer. I will accompany you if you need to go on errands, or want to walk for leisure.”
“Adam, you are very kind – you do yourself a disservice.”
“Nonsense,” said Adam gallantly.
“But what are we to do about Pierre Noir?”
“What we always do,” Adam replied. “Thwart him.”
~
The atmosphere in the house the next morning was tense. Mr. and Mrs. Haley, Adam, Jane, and Martha all sat in the sitting room, each at their individual tasks, but the minds of each wandering. When the footman entered to announce a visitor, they all flinched, hoped it was not an unwelcome one.
As luck would have it, the visitor was very welcome indeed. It was Frederick Bright, Martha’s beloved older brother, and she sprang up to greet him immediately.
“Oh, Frederick, why did you not write to tell us you were coming home?” she demanded.
“You know the post system, Martha,” he said. “The letter would have arrived a month after I did. How do you do, Jane?”
“Very well, thank you, Frederick,” Jane replied, looking embarrassed at her mother’s significant glances.
“How long are you to stay with us, Frederick?” his aunt asked him.
“Indefinitely, this time,” Frederick replied. “We are quite done with the continent, I believe. We heard that Mr. Blackstone was to give a most anticipated ball, and knew that we could on no account miss it.”
“We?” said Martha. “Surely you are speaking of your mysterious friend, Mr. Sevenson.”
“Yes, Joss is in Bogbury as well.” Frederick smiled. “I especially wish for you to meet him, Martha. I think you would get along very handsomely.”
“I very much doubt that,” said Martha, “for you know I always despise everyone you like. But when shall we meet, if you are so intent on it?”
“At Mr. Blackstone’s ball on Saturday, of course. He will be in attendance. I hope that you all plan on attending as well.”
They all assured him that they had absolutely no intention of missing the most anticipated ball of the year, and it was talked over for the rest of the morning. Nothing was mentioned of Pierre Noir, but Martha had the feeling that Frederick and Joss Sevenson’s sudden arrival in Bogbury did not correspond with Pierre Noir’s coming by coincidence.
I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, in which our heroes attend Mr. Blackstone's ball, and Pierre Noir makes an appearance.
So, tonight, we start with the first two chapters:
Note: All right, this story was originally meant to be a take off of Regency fantasy novels. It's not clever enough to be a parody or a satire, but that was supposed to be the general theme. So the first few chapters are in that kind of style, you know, "Oh, quite! Well, rather! Indeed! Good Lord! Shocking!" The later chapters tend to move away from that, as the story becomes more and more absurd. Also, this wasn't written for the public, and is completely unedited (aside from the stuff I caught at the time), so therefore, it sucks, but that's all right, because it's definitely not meant to be taken seriously. Happy reading. XD
by
Alison Sandra Trottier
Note: Now you know my full name if you didn't already, so no stalking, plz.
Chapter One – A Most Outrageous Back Story
Martha Bright was neither pretty nor clever, and at seventeen, had no claim to experience or wisdom; but she did possess the uncommon ability of performing magic. This ability was in fact so uncommon, that she was the only person in the world who could perform it, aside from the Clandestine Council, and Finnegan O’Fear. The Clandestine Council was very concerned about this fact, and warned Martha to never perform magic if she could help it – and for the most part she listened to them, because she had never done anything useful with magic in any case.
Martha’s family, the Brights, had once been the rulers of the kingdom of Valmell, which was an island that lay to the south of England, west of France, and south east of Ireland. They had ruled the island kingdom unopposed for two thousand four hundred and eighty seven years, until the plague arrived in 1349, and killed them all. Only the king’s wife, Queen Emmeline, survived, and she fled to the Isle of Man, which had mysteriously remained plague free.
In the absence of the ruling family, the Irish swept in, and the throne of Valmell was claimed by the powerful and hideous Lord Macalby, who from thence on styled himself King Macalby of Valmell.
But what King Macalby, and indeed, everyone else did not know, was that when Queen Emmeline fled, she was pregnant with a son, the heir of the throne of Valmell. Her son was born in the Isle of Man, but by the time the plague had receded, and it would have been safe for her to return to Valmell, King Macalby, having grown quite fond of his new power, prohibited it.
The Queen was extremely insulted, and immediately organised an uprising. There was an attempt to unseat King Macalby and place the Queen’s son, Frederick, on the throne, but it failed spectacularly, and the Bright family was exiled from Valmell.
If they had still been in possession of the Crown of Righteousness, of course, this might all have been averted, for the Crown of Righteousness declared the true ruler of Valmell, and set the unworthy on fire. Unfortunately, the Crown of Righteousness had been lost since a wager by King Rupert III went awry in 1246.
The Brights’ exile was finally lifted in 1699, when the memory of their days of rule had faded into a half formed recollection in the national conscious. King Macalby the current deemed them no threat, and so they had been living very co-operatively in Valmell from 1699 until the present, 1805 – one hundred and six years.
Our heroine, Martha, had in fact just returned to Valmell after a self imposed exile of one year. She had been spending a lengthy visit in London, England, with a lately married friend, Elspeth MacMacster, or rather, Mrs. Bland, as she was now known by her married name. The visit had been very enjoyable, and Martha had found London society agreeable (though perhaps rather tiring), but she was happy to be returning to her home in Valmell at long last.
There was one thing about her prolonged stay in England that was weighing on her mind, however, and it was this: that while she was there, her magic had seemed much stronger than she was used to it being at home. She had sometimes even performed it without strictly meaning to. The afternoon of a very important ball, she had found her best gown creased, and had somehow managed to iron it out using only her mind.
But it was another occurrence that was causing her the most agitation. She had been walking along the Thames one fine summer day, with Mrs. Bland, when a shadowy Frenchman stepped out of the shadows and advanced toward her. She had known instantly that it was Pierre Noir, a notorious French spy, who delighted in attempting to bring down the Bright family by any means possible.
Knowing that he would almost certainly attack in a devious manner, Martha struck out with all the force of her mind – Pierre Noir was thrown back, and landed with a resounding crack in the middle of the Thames. He did not appear to emerge from the water.
“Oh, gracious!” Mrs. Bland had exclaimed. “I really think we ought to go home now, Martha.”
Martha had not argued. She had been trying to put the incident out of her mind since its occurrence, but it was difficult. She worried that the Clandestine Council would discover that she had been performing unauthorised magic, and punish her somehow. But so far, no robed men had come knocking at her door, and after having been back home in Valmell for two weeks, she was beginning to feel more at ease.
Martha had arrived in the capital city of Bogbury to much fanfare. Her family’s estate was in the country, but as her brother was from home, travelling the continent, and their parents were dead, she instead opted to stay in town with her aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Haley, and their children, Adam Haley and Jane Haley.
Mr. and Mrs. Haley were good natured people, and very happy to be connected with a family as important as the Brights, although the Brights’ claim to the throne seemed eroded. They kept a good house in town, and were always pleased to have their niece come for extended visits.
Adam Haley was twenty one, and blind as a bat, but sharp as a tack, as his mother would say. He was a master fighter, pianist, and chess player. Although he had many talents, his father was wary of letting him inherit his fortune, as his blindness could present a severe obstacle. Adam was a great favourite with his sister and cousins, and was fond of entertaining them, but he did not have a rambunctious personality – he preferred to observe rather than participate when he could.
Of course, when the situation called for it, he could participate very effectively. When Napoleon Bonaparte had moved to conquer Austria, Adam Haley had challenged him to fight for it, and Adam had won; but he had conceded Austria to Napoleon in the end, because he did not know what he would do with it.
Jane Haley was a slight, shy girl. She had a pleasing figure and a pretty face, but she wore spectacles, and kept her hair and dress plain. Her family intended her to marry Frederick Bright, determined to see her as Queen of Valmell if he managed to regain the throne, but Jane secretly hated the idea – she liked her cousin, but had absolutely no desire to marry him. Instead, she harboured a sincere wish to found an academy for the study of magic, something that her parents strictly forbid her from speaking of, at risk of bringing the pleasure of the Clandestine Council upon theml; and besides, founding academies was simply not something that a young lady did.
Martha had come back to Bogbury at a most convenient time. It was summer, and so nearly everyone important was in town. The season was just getting into full swing, and there was to be a very significant ball the following week. It was being given by Mr. Blackstone, a gentleman of great fortune who had recently arrived from England. Holding a ball was certainly a wonderful way to endear oneself to the entire neighbourhood. Martha thought this did him credit, and anxiously awaited the night. She looked forward to it, knowing that she would likely meet with many friends and acquaintances who she had not had the pleasure of seeing in over a year.
When Martha Bright had been with her relatives in Valmell some two weeks, she happened to take a walk with her cousin Jane after breakfast on a particularly fine day. It was the first of July, but not yet stiflingly hot. They walked to the Shocking River, and stood upon the Ruddy Bridge, looking out over the north side of Bogbury.
“This reminds me,” said Martha, after a few moments of contemplation, “of a very strange incident that happened while I was in London.”
“Do tell,” her cousin prompted.
“Why, I was walking with Elspeth by the River Thames, when I happened upon Pierre Noir – or rather, he happened upon me.”
“Pierre Noir! Indeed?”
“There was no mistaking it. He was a small fellow, with black hair, an outrageous moustache, and a French accent. Not only that, but Napoleon Bonaparte’s eyebrows hung quite conspicuously on a chain around his neck. Of course you remember the outcry when he stole them?”
“But of course, how could anyone forget? Bonaparte was furious, and everyone was shocked at the deviousness of Pierre Noir. But pray, go on – what should Pierre Noir of all people be doing in London? It is quite shocking that he should be there!”
“Excuse me, cousin, but it is not shocking in the least. Besides tormenting Napoleon, Pierre Noir has made it his goal in life to ruin the Bright family. I suspect that he had come to London to kill me.”
“Oh, dear! How on earth did you escape?”
“Well, that is the thing. I did magic.”
“Magic!”
“Indeed, magic. I know that I am not supposed to, but I did not even know that I could do magic like this. I willed him gone, and he quite flew straight into the middle of the Thames.”
Jane looked frightened but admiring. “Oh, Martha – do you think he drowned?”
“One can only hope,” said Martha, turning and staring out across the Shocking River, letting her hands rest on the rough stone of the wall separating them from the murky water. “But I know Pierre Noir too well to think that he did not somehow extricate himself from his situation. He is very conniving.”
“Indeed,” Jane agreed, “he is French, after all.”
As Jane and Martha were walking back to the Haley residence, a shot rang out behind them. Several people screamed, and Martha spun around just in time to see a shadowy figure cursing and ducking into an alley way.
The two girls picked up their pace, hurrying through the streets, and only resting when they were back in the hall of the house.
“Good Lord!” Jane exclaimed, clutching at her chest as she tried to draw breath. “What do you suppose that was all about?”
“I can guess,” said Martha darkly, “and I think we ought to be very thankful that that man only had one shot.”
~
The family sat down to a nice supper that night. Mr. Haley told them all about the trouble he was having with his steward in the country, and how it might call him away for a week or two soon. Mrs. Haley was lamenting his almost certain absence just at the height of the season. Adam was listening in silence. Jane was quiet as well, not certain whether the incident that morning was fit for public consumption; Martha had said nothing.
Just as the pudding was being brought out, a large brick crashed through the window, landing on the table, and shattering Mrs. Haley’s best crockery. Everyone screamed, except for Adam, and the servants were immediately summoned to scour the alley ways and gardens to find the perpetrator.
“There’s a note!” said Jane, unlatching it from the brick, and unfurling the paper. “It’s for you, Martha.”
“Read it aloud, if you please.”
Jane cleared her throat, looking nervous, and read, “Welcome back to Valmell, Miss Bright.” She stared up at her with a shocked look.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed Martha, feeling truly sorry. “This is all my fault. If I had known I would be causing you all so much trouble, I never would have presumed to come. I shall leave immediately.”
“Nonsense, my dear girl,” said her uncle kindly. “It is not your fault, but the fault of these stupid people who go about throwing bricks through large glass windows! Window glass is expensive, you know.”
“Indeed,” said her aunt, “although it is all very strange. I wish they would have left a card with the footman like everyone else.”
The servants came back to report that the gardens and alley ways, and streets surrounding the house had been thoroughly searched, and that there was no sign of anyone who could have been responsible for the vandalism.
Everyone went to bed feeling nervous. Martha tossed and turned for hours, until she finally fell into a fitful sleep. She dreamed of indistinct things, and thought she heard the sound of a gunshot. She woke abruptly, to find that someone was knocking on her bedroom door.
“Who is it?” she whispered loudly.
“It’s me, Adam,” came the reply.
Her heart beat slower. It was only Adam. She felt relief wash over her like being plunged into the Thames. “Come in,” she called.
Adam entered, and shut the door behind him. The room was illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight coming in through a crack in the heavy curtains.
“I have discovered footprints,” Adam stated, without preamble. “I believe them to be the footprints of whoever threw that brick through the window tonight, and forgive me for saying that I doubt that note attached to it was meant as a kind welcome.” Martha silently agreed. “I have traced the footprints back to a certain location, and I think you may be surprised by their source.”
“Is is the Clandestine Council?” Martha asked breathlessly. Her heart was pounding fast again now. If the Clandestine Council was trying to kill her, she had no chance at all. She could not fight them and win.
“No,” said Adam, and she felt relief crash over her again, like she had been dumped into the River Avon. “They lead to an inn in a suspect part of town. It is called the Kildare House, and is a favourite haunt of... Frenchmen.”
Martha gasped. Adam put his finger to his lips to shush her.
“But – do you think it could possibly be -- ?”
“Pierre Noir?” She nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “In fact, it seems very likely, unless there is another Frenchman who wants you dead.”
She shook her head. “As far as I know, there is only the one. So I suppose this means that he escaped the Thames, and has followed me back to Valmell. He must be very angry at me now. He always hated me, because of my descent alone, but now that I have dumped him into the Thames, he must be out for blood. They say it is a very filthy river.”
“I lieu of this new development, I think it would be unwise for you and Jane to go out unchaperoned any longer. I will accompany you if you need to go on errands, or want to walk for leisure.”
“Adam, you are very kind – you do yourself a disservice.”
“Nonsense,” said Adam gallantly.
“But what are we to do about Pierre Noir?”
“What we always do,” Adam replied. “Thwart him.”
~
The atmosphere in the house the next morning was tense. Mr. and Mrs. Haley, Adam, Jane, and Martha all sat in the sitting room, each at their individual tasks, but the minds of each wandering. When the footman entered to announce a visitor, they all flinched, hoped it was not an unwelcome one.
As luck would have it, the visitor was very welcome indeed. It was Frederick Bright, Martha’s beloved older brother, and she sprang up to greet him immediately.
“Oh, Frederick, why did you not write to tell us you were coming home?” she demanded.
“You know the post system, Martha,” he said. “The letter would have arrived a month after I did. How do you do, Jane?”
“Very well, thank you, Frederick,” Jane replied, looking embarrassed at her mother’s significant glances.
“How long are you to stay with us, Frederick?” his aunt asked him.
“Indefinitely, this time,” Frederick replied. “We are quite done with the continent, I believe. We heard that Mr. Blackstone was to give a most anticipated ball, and knew that we could on no account miss it.”
“We?” said Martha. “Surely you are speaking of your mysterious friend, Mr. Sevenson.”
“Yes, Joss is in Bogbury as well.” Frederick smiled. “I especially wish for you to meet him, Martha. I think you would get along very handsomely.”
“I very much doubt that,” said Martha, “for you know I always despise everyone you like. But when shall we meet, if you are so intent on it?”
“At Mr. Blackstone’s ball on Saturday, of course. He will be in attendance. I hope that you all plan on attending as well.”
They all assured him that they had absolutely no intention of missing the most anticipated ball of the year, and it was talked over for the rest of the morning. Nothing was mentioned of Pierre Noir, but Martha had the feeling that Frederick and Joss Sevenson’s sudden arrival in Bogbury did not correspond with Pierre Noir’s coming by coincidence.
I'll post the next chapter tomorrow, in which our heroes attend Mr. Blackstone's ball, and Pierre Noir makes an appearance.
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Date: 2007-11-17 07:38 am (UTC)