Bewitching Season (11 page)

why,” Pen said into the silence under the murmur of their parents’ conversation.

“Why shouldn’t she know?” he asked. “Haven’t you told her that you’re concerned about Miss

Allardyce?”

“Of course they haven’t!” said Charles. “Then they’d have to tell her that they’re wi—”

“—without any good reason for our suspicions,” Persy interjected, stepping hard on Charles’s foot

under cover of her skirt. “She’ll think we’re being silly and childish, and anyway she’s too wrapped

up with our presentation at court to think of anything else.”

Charles withdrew his foot from under Persy’s and went to sit in the window seat nearby, where he

stared out at the street and pretended to ignore them. Persy felt a little remorseful for shushing him so

abruptly, but considering Papa’s tale yesterday about the rumored cause of Lady Seton’s death,

Lochinvar was the last person who should know their secret. What would he say if she decided to

make his hat, set on the floor by him, start dancing a jig? She could just picture the look of distaste

that would have crossed his face if Charles had been allowed to finish his sentence. If Lochinvar

found her unattractive now, how much more so would he if he knew about her powers?

Lochinvar’s voice cut through her reverie. “Do you think your mother would let you go if we all

went together? I do want to find that book I told you about. And after all, we’d be with your

governess’s family in a public place.”

“Oh!” Pen clapped her hands. “That would be perfect!”

“Me too?” said Charles from the window seat. Clearly his wounded pride had not prevented him

from listening closely to their conversation.

“Indeed, Master Charles. You must come along to chaperone your sisters,” Lochinvar replied

crisply.

“Oh,
really
,” groaned Pen.

But Persy saw the hint of a smile in the corners of Lochinvar’s eyes when he spoke, as well as the

dawning hero worship in Charles’s as he stared open-mouthed at Lochinvar. Charles probably had

never considered the idea that he might ever have any abilities that his sisters did not. But recalling

that he was, after all, their brother, and bound to protect them even if they were witches, it would

ensure Charles’s good behavior and more important, his silence. She smiled to herself at Lochinvar’s

cleverness.

In the end, it turned out to be easier than they had expected to convince their mother to let them visit

the Allardyces. Pen was elected as spokesman, and she made their request shortly before the Setons

took their leave.

“Well,” Mama said slowly, “I suppose I could bring you there and take care of a few calls while

you have your visit. If Miss Allardyce is there, you can find out how long she expects to be away and

refresh her memory of her duty to you at this important time.” The thought seemed to please her. “And

we could stop at the milliner’s on the way and see if your hats are done.”

Lochinvar’s smile became slightly strained at mention of the milliner’s, but he bowed and said, “It

will be a pleasure, ma’am.”

They all accompanied Lord Northgalis and Lochinvar to the door on their departure. The girls

stood with their mother and made their bows, but Charles wriggled around them and stuck his head

out the front door.

“Oh, I say, you came in a carriage,” he said in a disappointed voice to Lochinvar, after a good look

up and down the street. “I was hoping to see Lord Chesterfield. Will you come again soon and bring

him?”

“Will tomorrow do?” Lochinvar asked, while Mama frowned ferociously at her son.

“Rather!” Charles looked transported.

After the door had closed behind their guests, Lady Parthenope gave vent to her displeasure.

“Really, Charles. I would expect a little more sense of decorum than thrusting your head out the front

door like that. Pray in future refrain from such childishness.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Charles replied, hanging his head. But his eyes swiveled toward his sisters in an

unmistakable wink. As soon as their mother had swept up the stairs, they pounced.

“What was that all about, Chuckles?” demanded Pen, taking his good arm and steering him into one

of the empty reception rooms, where they could be sure of being at least momentarily undisturbed.

Charles shrugged and walked up to the fireplace, where he began making absurd faces at himself in

the large pier glass that hung over the chimneypiece. “Nothing you need to know,” he replied

paternally. “He said I was to protect you, and I don’t want you worrying yourselves.”

“Worrying ourselves about what? That you’ve contracted a sudden incurable dementia? What was

the winking about? Did it have anything to do with that folderol about wanting to see Lochinvar’s

horse?” Pen joined him at the mirror and made a threatening face over his head.

“Lord Seton,” he reminded her. “And yes, it did. I thought it worth risking a scold from Mama to

have a better look at the man who’s been watching the house, as she won’t let me out there on my own

till my arm’s healed.”

“What?” Persy turned him to face her. “What man?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? I spotted him the other day. I thought that was why you were so interested in

looking out my window today before Lord Seton came. He’s been there three or four days, lounging

against the lamppost. Sometimes he wanders up and down the street a bit, and he’s worn different

clothes every day, like he’s trying not to be recognized. The glass in my window is a little wavy, and

I wanted to have a better look at him as he was right across the street when I was looking out the

drawing room window just now. So I pretended to be looking for Lord Chesterfield. I thought it was a

good plan,” he said, looking smug.

Pen looked at Persy. “Do we believe him? Why should anyone be watching our house?”

Their brother scowled. “Fine! Don’t believe me! Of course I’m making it up, because I’m so bored

I’m seeing things. Maybe you aren’t concerned about strangers staring at our house, but I am. It’s up to

me to keep my eye on you, remember?” He stalked out of the room. They heard the door down to the

kitchens slam.

“Off to drown his sorrows in jam tarts.” Pen laughed nervously. Persy shook her head. Was their

house really being watched? And if so, by whom?

The next day, Persy and Pen waited anxiously as Mama stared from the carriage window at the front

façade of the Allardyces’ shop on Oxford Street.

“It looks respectable enough. Of course, it couldn’t be otherwise, if Miss Allardyce’s family own

it,” she said, half to herself. “Mr. and Mrs. Allardyce are quiet, well-mannered people.” She sat up

with a little shake. “Very well, children. I shall escort you in and be back in an hour’s time. That will

allow me to get two or three calls in quite handily.” She rapped on the door, and the footman

appeared.

When Lochinvar opened the shop door for them, Mr. Allardyce was seated behind the counter,

marking prices on slips of paper and tucking them into books. A petite girl of about their own age,

with a feather duster tucked into the back of her waistband so that she looked like an exotic and

peculiar species of bird, arranged the books Mr. Allardyce had finished pricing. A shiny bell hanging

from the door announced them.

Mr. Allardyce looked up at their entrance and stared for a brief second. Then he rose with a

beaming smile, which, however, seemed to Persy to fade as he surveyed them.

“My goodness! Can it really be? Is it the Misses Leland? Though last I saw they were still just

pretty little girls in short dresses. Oh, Lady Atherston, your pardon. These handsome young ladies

rather flustered me.” He came around the corner and bowed to them.

“How good to see you again, Mr. Allardyce,” said Mama with a gracious nod. Her new visiting

bonnet tottered alarmingly. “We were in the neighborhood, and the girls wished to stop by.” She

introduced Lochinvar and Charles, smiled when Mr. Allardyce presented the girl with the duster as

his youngest daughter, Lorelei, then turned back to Pen and Persy.

“Don’t spend all your pocket money, Persy. Pray send my regards to Miss Allardyce, if you will. I

hope we can count on her rapid return to us,” she said with another nod to Mr. Allardyce before

sweeping out again.

Mr. Allardyce frowned after her, the shop bell still tingling in her wake. “Her rapid what?” he

said, more to himself than to them.

Pen stared significantly at Persy. Deflated, she nodded back.

“Excuse us, Mr. Allardyce,” she began politely.

“Eh? I beg your pardon, but I’m not sure I understand what her ladyship said. It is an honor to have

you visit, but, ah … isn’t my daughter with you? She stopped in a week or so ago and promised to

come back in a few days and bring you along for a visit. We haven’t heard from her since then, but we

assumed she was occupied with her duties. Is she ill?” He looked worried. The petite girl, openly

listening, came to stand by her father.

“I think we need to discuss something with you, sir,” said Persy.

Mr. Allardyce looked at their sober expressions and said a few quiet words to Lorelei. She nodded

and moved into the back of the shop, reemerging with a straight chair. Lochinvar sprang forward to

take it from her, then at her behest carried out two more.

Mr. Allardyce put up the CLOSED sign in the window, then took a long pole and rapped smartly on

the ceiling. A brief rap answered him, and a moment later, footsteps descending stairs could be heard.

A brisk, handsome woman with Ally’s straight posture, luxuriant dark hair, and long nose came from

the back of the shop, stopped in the doorway, and stared before breaking into a wide smile.

“Miss Persephone! Miss Penelope! How wonderful!” She looked beyond them, and her smile

faded. “But where is … ?”

“We’d hoped you could tell us,” Persy said gently. “We expected to find Miss Allardyce here,

because we haven’t seen her since we came to town.”

Lochinvar discreetly moved to browse on the other side of the shop while Pen and Persy told their

story to the shocked Allardyces. When Persy told of their dreams, Mrs. Allardyce turned very pale,

and Lorelei red. Mr. Allardyce remained silent, only opening his mouth to ask to examine Ally’s note.

He too held it between his hands for a moment, then pressed his lips together.

“She’s either run away or been kidnapped, and running away doesn’t seem to answer what we

know. Why else the horrible feelings in the note and the dreams?” Pen said in conclusion.

Mr. Allardyce frowned. “But who? And why kidnap an ordinary governess?”

“But she isn’t ordinary, is she?” said Charles into the silence. Across the room Persy saw

Lochinvar look up at them from the book he’d been examining.

Mr. Allardyce looked uneasily at Charles, then at the girls.

“It’s all right,” Persy reassured him. “Charles knows. He sits in on our lessons when he’s at home.

All
our lessons. Ally—er, Miss Allardyce always permits him.”

“‘Ally’?” Lorelei giggled.

“But who besides you and us knows that there is anything out of the ordinary about her? And why

would it matter?” Mr. Allardyce asked.

“That man knew. Remember, Father? The man in the shop that day when she came for a visit? The

one with the Irish accent?” Lorelei prodded him. “He wanted to buy that old grimoire you were

saving for her that I got mixed up with the other books. He kept looking at us and trying to listen to

what we were saying. I thought I’d scare him off by shoving the cake knife at him, but it didn’t work.”

“Don’t be silly, Lorrie,” said Mrs. Allardyce firmly.

“But Melly said she thought he was a wizard! So why shouldn’t—”

“Hush, Lorelei!” Mr. Allardyce interrupted. “Have you tried to do anything to contact her?”

“No,” said Pen. “It’s why we’re here. We weren’t sure that she might not really be taking care of a

sick relative, after all.”

“I have,” Persy volunteered, in a low voice. “Tried to find her, that is.”

Pen stared at her. “You have? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What method did you use, Miss Leland?” asked Mr. Allardyce.

“Scrying, in my washbowl. It, er, didn’t show me much. Ally hadn’t gone much into it with us yet.”

Lorrie looked impressed. “You really can do magic? I thought that girls like you were just empty-

head—” She flushed and sat back in her chair.

“That’s enough out of you, miss,” admonished her mother. She looked pale but determined. “John,

this is more in your line. Why don’t you see what you can find with the maps? Lorrie, some

refreshments, if you please. And—” She glanced toward Lochinvar, back studiously to them. “Do you

want him as well?”

Mr. Allardyce turned to the girls. “What my wife is suggesting is that I try to locate Melusine with

a map-dowsing spell. Have you ever seen one?”

“No,” said Persy, interested. “Ally’s mentioned them, but we’ve not tried them. She wanted us to

perfect our mental technique before we moved to manipulating with the physical.”