A Brief History of Montmaray (19 page)

I HAVE NEVER BEEN so glad to see Toby in all my life. Veronica, Henry, Carlos and I practically dragged him out of the boat when it docked this morning, barely stopping to acknowledge the other two passengers.

‘Ugh,’ said Toby, trying to disentangle himself from Henry, who’d thrown herself around his neck. ‘Don’t squash me, I’ll be sick again.’ And he did look a bit green, although nowhere near as bad as the short, round stranger next to him, who had one hand over his mouth and the other clutching at his stomach.

‘Sick as dogs, both of them, all the way from the Channel,’ said Simon, coming up behind with the bags.

‘You needn’t sound so smug,’ said Toby. ‘Just because
you
spent the trip strutting round on deck, scoffing bacon sandwiches.’

‘Well, it might have helped if you hadn’t drunk all that brandy the night before.’

‘Gentlemen,
’ groaned the stout man. ‘Please.’

‘Oh, I do apologise,’ said Toby. ‘Everyone, this is the Reverend Webster Herbert.’

‘Are you the Bishop?’ asked Henry, looking at his black suit with interest.

‘No, afraid we don’t rate a bishop any more,’ said Toby cheerfully. ‘But never mind! Reverend Mr Herbert, may I introduce my cousin, Princess Veronica, and my sisters, Princess Sophia and Princess Henrietta-who-prefers-to-be-known-as-plain-old-Henry. Oh, and this is Prince Carlos.’ Carlos gave the Reverend Mr Herbert a friendly whack in the stomach with his tail. Then there was a lot of jostling over the luggage and we all started up the path, everyone talking at once.

I positioned myself behind Simon and I heard him say to Veronica, ‘My condolences for the loss of your father.’ And Veronica nodded and said ‘Thank you’ in a very civil manner. It may just have been the calming presence of Toby, but nevertheless I took their lack of open hostility as a good omen, particularly as the clouds had parted for a brief moment and there was a hazy glimmer of rainbow over the sea. Miraculously, the peace held all the way up to the castle, all through the complicated allocation of bedrooms, all through lunch, coming unstuck only when the ‘grown-ups’ (for the first time, I had no hesitation in classifying myself as one) sat around the table afterwards discussing the funeral arrangements.

It was a pity Aunt Charlotte couldn’t have been there to tell us all what to do, but her foot was still in plaster and the doctor had forbidden her to move further than her drawing room. Unfortunately, Toby seemed to have misplaced the lengthy list of instructions she’d given him and it turned out that Mr Herbert hadn’t had much experience in burying kings.

‘It’s quite straightforward,’ said Veronica. ‘The funeral service is mostly out of the
Book of Common Prayer
and Toby, as the new King–’

I blinked. I’d always known Toby was heir to the throne, but to think that now he actually
was
King – or would be, after the coronation ceremony...

‘–leads the responses throughout. Then we carry the body down into the crypt and Toby removes the Royal Seal and–’

‘No!’ said Rebecca from the doorway of the Great Hall. We all turned around.

‘What’s the matter, Rebecca?’ said Veronica. It was the most Rebecca had said since Uncle John had died. We waited a bit, but nothing else was forth coming. Veronica sighed. ‘As I was saying, Toby puts the Royal Seal around his own neck and then ... well, he should remove the crown as well, but I think that’s in Aunt Charlotte’s safe. At least I hope it is, it certainly isn’t here. It didn’t belong to Bartholomew anyway, nor his son, there’s no record of a crown of any form until King Stephen, so it wasn’t part of the original ceremony. After that, Toby grasps Benedict in his right hand and–’

‘No!’ cried Rebecca, still in the doorway, now shaking her head wildly. ‘No!’

‘Do you think,’ Veronica snapped at Simon, ‘that you could
possibly
attempt to discover what it is that your mother finds so objectionable?’ Simon, who’d already risen from his chair, scowled at Veronica. Mr Herbert, sitting across the table from me, looked overwhelmed and still slightly seasick. I felt a bit queasy myself, remembering the last time the King had grasped Benedict.

‘Why don’t we discuss this later?’ Toby suggested brightly. ‘Mr Herbert probably wants to unpack and have a rest, anyway.’

‘Good idea,’ said Simon, herding his mother towards Uncle John’s room. Veronica stood up, glared at Simon, then led Mr Herbert upstairs. Toby slumped back in his chair.

‘I
thought
they were being too polite to last,’ he sighed. Then he looked over at me and reached out a hand. ‘Oh, Soph! Poor
you.
Has it been just dreadful?’

‘Yes,’ I said, considering. ‘Yes, it really has. And you don’t even know a quarter of it.’

He grimaced. ‘I gathered that, what with Henry babbling about Nazi pirates trying to shoot Carlos, and Rebecca reduced to monosyllables.’

‘We’d better go up and get Veronica, and then you can find out–’

‘No, you tell me,’ he said. ‘Honestly, Soph. I’d rather hear it from you.’

‘Let’s go up to the gatehouse then,’ I said after a moment. ‘So we don’t get overheard.’

We took a blanket and two hot bricks with us, and huddled together on the floor. Then I told him every thing – the Nazis arriving on their futile and possibly Simon-inspired quest for the Grail, Hans lying bloody and mutilated on the kitchen flagstones, the terrifying trip down the tunnels with the corpse, Uncle John throwing the chamber pot at Gebhardt, all of it. I’d forgotten what a good listener Toby could be – he gasped in all the appropriate places, urged me on when I stumbled, asked all the right questions. I hesitated when I came to Isabella. But I knew Veronica would want him to know, so I went on, describing my dream, and my vision at George’s funeral, and then Veronica’s terrible revelation.

‘My God,’ he breathed at the end. ‘And George actually ... my
God.
’ He stared at me. ‘Oh, Sophie. You sound so
calm.
You’ve been so brave and ... oh Sophie!’ He flung his arms around me.

‘No, I haven’t,’ I mumbled into his shoulder. ‘I was absolutely terrified all along and–’

He let me go so he could peer into my face. ‘That’s what I mean. You were so scared and you did it anyway. That’s even braver than Veronica – because she’s always had nerves of iron.’ He frowned. ‘How
is
she, anyway? I haven’t had a second alone with her yet.’

I shook my head. ‘The usual, just quieter. And when I think about how awful I felt when ... well, when Mother and Father died.’ He nodded quickly. ‘And the same thing’s just happened to her, losing both her parents at once.’

‘Except it’s not as though she actually
liked
Uncle John. And Isabella’s been gone for years.’

‘Toby!’ I said crossly. ‘Even so! And finding out about George...’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Toby. ‘She really does need to have a good howl or
something.
Well, maybe she and Simon can have one of their enormous rows and she can throw a plate at him, let it out that way.’

Henry burst in at that moment, desperate to show off her new knot-tying skills to Toby, and she dragged him down to the courtyard. I gathered up the blanket and no-longer-hot bricks and went back to the kitchen, where I found Simon peering inside the kettle.

‘How’s Rebecca?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘I gave her a sleeping powder. I’m just making tea – would you like some?’ It turned out Toby had brought with him not just tea, but white sugar, tinned shortbread and my favourite fig-and-ginger jam, all of which he’d appropriated from Aunt Charlotte’s pantry.

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘All right then. Thanks.’ I sat down and realised I hadn’t once blushed since Simon had arrived. Perhaps I really
had
become Sensible, after all. Then our fingertips brushed as he passed me the sugar and I shivered. Or perhaps not.

‘So,’ he said, looking at me over his cup. ‘How
are
you?’

‘Um,’ I said. I couldn’t remember him ever asking me this before. ‘I’m...’ I couldn’t think of any polite yet truthful way to end that sentence, so I cleared my throat and began again. ‘You know, I really can’t believe that Toby is ... well, that he’s
King.
’

Simon’s face lit up in a rare, uninhibited grin. ‘I know! King Toby! Imagine!’ Then he sobered at once. ‘But this
does
change things, of course. I know
you
were planning to leave Montmaray anyway. But the others – well, you understand that things are different now. With the villagers gone and my mother not ... er, able to look after you, not at the moment...’

As though Rebecca had
ever
looked after us! Simon must have seen me suppress a snort, because he went on hurriedly.

‘They
can’t
stay here, Sophia, it simply isn’t practical.’ He leaned towards me and gazed earnestly into my face. I felt my heart begin to beat a bit faster. ‘The Princess Royal’s expecting all of you to return with Toby and me – I’ve arranged for a ship to pick us all up in a few days.’ He half-smiled at me and sat back. ‘I’m so glad I can rely on
you
to help me persuade them to do the sensible thing.’

My heart went back to its usual speed. Simon didn’t care how I was at all – he just needed to tick off another one of his duties on the list Mr Grenville had given him (‘Item 7(a): Ensure all three (3) FitzOsborne girls board ship for England.’) I put down my cup heavily, sloshing tea into the saucer.

‘Veronica won’t leave Montmaray,’ I said. ‘You know that. And I’m
not
leaving her by herself.’ I pushed back the terrifying memory of Gebhardt’s threat, of Herr Rahn’s veiled warning, and I raised my chin, Queen Matilda style. ‘Anyway, Toby only has six months of school left and then he can live here all the time.’

Simon shook his head. ‘Oxford. That’s what the Princess Royal wants.’

This was news to me. ‘Do they
really
let boys who fail all their school tests go up to Oxford?’

‘My ears are burning,’ said Toby, coming in from the courtyard with Henry. He draped his arm across Simon’s shoulders and plucked a sugar cube from the bowl on the table. ‘What scandalous things are you saying about me now?’

Simon slapped Toby’s fingers away. ‘We’re discussing your future,’ he said. ‘Specifically, your academic future.’

Toby groaned. ‘Oh, Aunt Charlotte’s been going on about Oxford again, hasn’t she? I’ve told her a thousand times how thick I am.’

‘Nonsense,’ said Simon severely. ‘You’re lazy, not stupid. And think of all the useful people you’ll meet there.’

‘All right, then, here’s the plan – I’ll get Veronica to disguise herself as me and she can go to all my lectures instead.’

‘And that’s another thing,’ said Simon. ‘The girls can’t possibly stay–’

‘Ahem,’ I said loudly, with a meaningful look in Henry’s direction. Any objections Veronica might have to leaving Montmaray would be mild and reasonable compared to Henry’s, especially if Henry realised it might involve her going to school. Fortunately, she’d been too busy trying to impress Toby with an acrobatic display to have heard anything.

‘And that’s nothing!’ she cried, upside down by the sink, when she saw us all looking at her. ‘I can do five cartwheels in a row!’

‘But not in
here,
Horrid Hen,’ said Toby. ‘Courtyard, please.’

‘But you’ll come and watch?’

‘Certainly, as soon as I’ve finished ordering around these loyal subjects of mine.’

‘Ooh, I forgot you’re King now. Yes, Your Majesty!’ She tumbled to the floor, gave a demented sort of curtsey and ran off, giggling.

‘I wish
I
could forget,’ muttered Toby. ‘And is it my imagination or has Henry somehow grown
younger
over the past three months?’

‘She always goes through an over-excited phase when you get back,’ I said. ‘And it’s been a difficult time and no one’s been paying much attention to her lately.’

‘I expect she misses Jimmy, too,’ he said, rubbing his face. ‘It was so odd, seeing the village deserted. Wasn’t it, Simon?’

‘Odd, but inevitable,’ he said. ‘And to return to the subject, Sophia and I were just discussing what will happen while you’re finishing your education. You know it isn’t practical for the girls to stay here–’

‘Toby!’ came a cry from the courtyard.

‘Oh, let’s not talk about it right now!’ said Toby, standing up and stalking over to the door. ‘Ooh, Henry, do that again! Brilliant! You’ll have to teach me.’

Simon sent me an ‘Isn’t he hopeless!’ look, but instead of smiling sympathetically, I frowned and took the tea things over to the sink.

We didn’t get around to any further discussion until this evening, after dinner had been cleared away and Henry sent upstairs with the Meccano set that Toby had brought her.

‘I do hope your mother is feeling better,’ said Mr Herbert to Simon, with a nervous glance at the door. Rebecca was still asleep in there – no one had felt any inclination to wake her up for dinner.

‘I expect it’s just that Rebecca’s very upset about Uncle John, and talking about the funeral makes it seem more real to her,’ said Toby.

‘I don’t know,’ said Simon slowly. ‘I wonder if it’s more than that...’

‘Well, she was here when Grandfather died,’ I pointed out. ‘So she probably remembers how the ceremony went.’