A School for Unusual Girls (32 page)

He squared his shoulders and with a hard sigh said, “Miss Stranje will have my head.”

“She is practical. She'll understand I'm the only coin you have to barter with.”

He said nothing, but I knew he'd relented. He walked back to his horse just as his two men rode up and hailed him. Captain Grey issued quick hushed orders. I overheard him say something about Miss Stranje. One of them took off with all three horses and the other strode with us down the banks of the Thames. We hurried along the shore, around broken lobster traps, stepped over mooring lines, passed beached fishing gigs, until we came to a good-size dock where we boarded a sleek cutter.

He roused the crew from where they slept under tarpaulins. “Cast off,” he ordered.

To his companion he said, “Our best hope is to catch them before they leave the river.”

They untied the ship from the pilings and two sailors set to the oars, while another worked on unrolling the sail. We'd maneuvered to the end of the pier and had just caught the flow of the river when I heard Tess shout my name.

She rode on horseback behind Lord Ravencross. At our dock she slid down and ran. She hitched up her skirt and ran even faster. Alarmingly fast. I was afraid she would surely fly straight off the dock and land in the swirling water of the Thames. Lord Ravencross pursued her on horseback, but his mount balked at the change from the sandy bank to the shifting boards of the dock.

Tess leaped off the end of the pier.

I screamed, certain she'd splash into the fast-moving river and drown. Instead, her hands slapped over the side of the ship. I lunged and grabbed hold of her forearms. My mouth gaped open as I tried to pull her up.

“You're going to need me,” she rasped, just as if she wasn't dangling over the side of a ship moving at a rapid clip down the Thames.

“Good God!” Captain Grey reached over the gunwale and hoisted her higher.

“Permission to board, sir,” she said, only slightly out of breath.

“Do I have a choice?” He heaved her onto the deck and shook his head.

I glanced back to where she'd jumped from. We were now seven or eight meters from the end of the dock. Lord Ravencross sat astride his horse looking as stunned as I felt.

“By all the stars, Miss Aubreyson!” Captain Grey stared at Tess, aghast, and shook his head some more. Finally, he jerked off his hat and raked a hand through his hair. “I've never witnessed a leap that daring.
Or
foolhardy. Certainly not from a girl. All you need is a cutlass between your teeth, young lady, and you'll have a splendid career as a pirate.” He slapped his hat on and went back to hoisting of the sails.

Tess watched him go, and then fussed with her ball gown, smoothing down the soiled fabric of her skirt. “Drat. My best gown.” She scrubbed at a smudge of dirt. “I might be able to get that out with a little lemon juice.”

I don't know what it was, relief that she hadn't drowned, or amazement, but I felt a sudden overpowering urge to hug her. So I did. To my surprise, she hugged me back. When I finally gathered my wits and let go, she shrugged as if her extraordinary boarding method was nothing at all.

Feeling awkward, I said, “We're going to Calais.”

Calais
.
France
. A foreign country. And I'd never been away from home on my own before Stranje House. I knew, without a doubt, Tess was right. I
would
need her.

She nodded.

“Have you foreseen this? In a dream, I mean?”

She shook her head.

“Then why did you jump?” Just thinking of that feat made both of us glance back at the dock. We could no longer see Lord Ravencross. He and the pier were lost in the darkness and jumble of boats and ships along the bank.

“He'll be angry with me.”

I suspected Lord Ravencross was more astonished than angry. From what I'd seen he'd looked shocked and bewildered, and then I thought I'd seen a glimmer of admiration. I couldn't be sure, it had all happened so fast and the river had carried us away so quickly.

“But you said you knew I would need your help.”

Her mouth crooked to the side. “Doesn't take a dream to know that much.”

Captain Grey brought us two woolen blankets. “It's five hours to Calais. You'd best get some sleep.”

“But if we should catch up to them—”

“You'll know,” he said curtly, and turned to leave. Then he hesitated and added in a gentler tone, “It's unlikely. Unless we spot them soon, we've no way of knowing what route they'll take.”

“Why Calais?” I asked, knowing he was in no mood to answer questions, but if I was to plan, I needed to know.

“Since the war ended, it has become the busiest port in the world. Troops from many nations are there awaiting transport home. It is easy to slip in and out unseen. The city is rife with allegiances to both Royalists and Napoleon. The Iron Crown has a stronghold. A house. Heavily guarded.” His shoulders slumped. “That is where she will take him.”

He looked so disheartened I withheld the rest of my questions.

Tess and I found a perch atop some boxes away from the slosh and spray and settled in. But for me, sleep was out of the question. I had five hours in which to plan. Five short hours to work out a strategy to right my wrongs. Five hours to regret that I hadn't learned more at Stranje House. If we ever returned, I would rectify that. Top of my list of things to learn was how to swim properly. Oh, and how to escape from being tied to a chair. So many things I could've learned. I shook off those regrets. They wouldn't help me now. For the nonce, I needed to devise a plan.

“Do you know anything about their stronghold?” I whispered.

Tess shook her head.

We fell silent for a long time. The gentle wafting of the river changed hands for the harder slaps of ocean waves against the hull.

“I wish Jane were along,” she murmured. “No one can pick a lock as well as Jane.”

“That would be handy.”

“And Sera,” she added. “Sera would be able to take one look at the building and know exactly where they were holding him and what our best approach would be.”

“We might try using her techniques.”

“I'm no good at it.” Tess fidgeted, trying to get comfortable. “I'm always too busy thinking of what might be. I miss nine-tenths of what she sees.”

“I might give it a go.”

“Phfft. I doubt it.” She pulled the blanket up and tried to tuck in. “You're always too busy drumming up your next question.”

She rested her head against my knobby shoulder using me for a makeshift pillow. “If Maya were here we could sleep. She would sing to us, or say something comforting.”

I didn't say anything. I simply rubbed her hand. Warming it in mine, knowing even Maya's mystical murmurs wouldn't have put me to sleep that night.

I had planning to do.

 

Twenty-one

STRA
N
GERS IN A STRANGE
L
AND

I fell asleep! How could I have slept when there was so much to do? So much to figure out? Only the sad fact of the matter was I had absolutely no idea what we were up against, and my strategizing had proved futile and turned into dozing. I woke in a cold damp panic, to the sound of gulls circling above us, screeching my guilt into the gray light of predawn.

We stretched our stiff muscles and hurried to the bow to watch as Calais unfolded before us, a vast maze of canals and waterways with piers, docks too numerous to count, and ships creating a forest of masts. Two forts were visible in the distance, and a giant citadel loomed in the forefront, gray-walled and mysterious. The city itself looked smaller than I'd imagined, a mere village compared to London.

Small, yes, but Calais was crowded and bustling even at that dusky hour of the morning especially near the port. Soldiers in all sorts of uniforms, vendors hawking their wares, and sleepy-eyed vagabonds huddled in corners. We trudged into the city, a pitiful spectacle. Tess and I were probably taken for doxies, if anyone took the time to wonder about the two bedraggled females straggling along behind Captain Grey and his companion. Thank goodness, he hired the first hackney coach he came upon.

The inner part of the city looked surprisingly British. Small wonder considering it had been occupied by Britain for several centuries. We soon ventured into another section of town that looked Spanish in nature, tiled roofs and crisp stucco walls. Captain Grey signaled the coachman to stop. His man climbed out and took an inordinately long time purchasing a newspaper from a lad on the corner. He even perused a few pages.

I guessed we must be near the Iron Crown's stronghold. It had to be the imposing Spanish villa across the way. High walls, and the only way in or out looked to be through the front gate. I glimpsed a courtyard in the center, so I leaned out of the window to have a better view.

Captain Grey immediately tugged me back into my seat. “For pity's sake, Miss Fitzwilliam. Do not tip our hand this early.” He heaved a sigh. “We've precious little on our side of the slate as it is.”

Another blunder
. My stomach was empty but I suddenly felt more nauseous than I had even on the voyage.

When his man, Mr. Digby, as I was later to learn, climbed back in the carriage Captain Grey gave him a questioning look. Digby shook his head. “They've doubled the watch.”

Captain sighed. “That means she's already inside. They've increased the guard in anticipation of our arrival.”

I leaned forward. “Couldn't we gather some of these British troops and storm in?”

Mr. Digby answered for Captain Grey. “No. We are on French soil, and that house belongs to a Romanian dignitary. The consul is in residence. Any military aggression would be considered an act of war. At the very least, it would create an international incident.”

I was perfectly willing to create an international incident. But clearly, they were not.

Captain Grey took one last look at the stronghold. “We may as well find lodgings.”

Digby grunted. “The British consulate will be full.”

“The Blue Lion is closer, and far more private.” Captain Grey opened the trap and gave our coachman directions in flawless French.

As we left, I carefully studied the street. A lighthouse stood at the north end, but to the south we passed an impressive church tower. I guessed it must be a monastery or a convent, although it looked more like a lookout turret with a cross on top. Both were tall enough to overlook the courtyard and if we had a spyglass …

“Do you think we might climb to the top of the lighthouse?” I asked.

They all looked at me as if I was daft.

“To have a better look at the stronghold. Unless you think the nuns would let us into the church on this other end.”

As if it summed up my choices Captain Grey said, “You're not Catholic.”

“I might be,” I said. “If they'll let me into their turret.”

“We will find quarters first. Then we will decide, Miss Fitzwilliam, whether you are having a crisis of faith or breaking into a lighthouse manned by the French army.” He did not smile.

*   *   *

The proprietor of the Blue Lion knew Captain Grey and quietly ushered us to a private parlor reserved for distinguished guests. They spoke to us in hushed English and I had the sense that this was a place frequented by British “diplomats,” as Sebastian liked to call himself. As soon as a serving girl brought us some sausage, cheese, and bread, Captain Grey closed the door and unfolded a map of the city.

Digby pointed to the Iron Crown stronghold. “There might be a side door here, between the buildings. Or in the back.”

“If so, they'll be watching it. I'm beginning to see the merit of Miss Fitzwilliam's idea.”

Just then, we heard a tap on the door. We all looked at one another in surprise. It couldn't be Daneska; she wouldn't be so bold. Captain Grey pulled it open and Miss Stranje walked in. Directly behind her trailed Jane, Sera, and Maya.

“Emma!” he murmured in astonishment.

“Good afternoon, Captain Grey.” She curtseyed just as if they were meeting in a parlor over tea. “Our crossing was a bit choppy, but we made it in fine time.”

He made a quick bow and scooted out a chair for her.

“Thank you. Now, if you will please catch me up. What do we know?” Miss Stranje took off her traveling bonnet and leaned over the map.

Captain Grey hesitated, cleared his throat, and jabbed his finger at the map. “We are here. He is being held there.”

Tess and I stood very still. I may even have backed away slightly.

“Oh, for pity's sake.” Miss Stranje slapped one hand down on the table. “Don't all of you look so surprised to see me.” And with one sweeping glare, she took in all of us. “What did you think I would do when I arrived home and found the two of you missing?” Her scolding gaze flew around the room and landed on the captain. “By the time your man brought me word, I had already repacked the carriage and was about to depart for London.”

“But how…?” I asked before thinking. Then I noticed Tess frowning at Sera.

“No,” Miss Stranje warned her. “Don't blame Sera. She didn't spill a word. Very stoic. You have Lady Jane's practical nature to thank for my arrival.”

Jane shrugged off Tess's glower. “Given the situation it seemed the sensible thing to do.”

Maya looked altogether different garbed in English clothes instead of her sari, but her voice was as soothing as ever. “Lady Jane is right. We could not allow our Miss Stranje to worry.”

Our headmistress planted both fists on her hips. “Did you really think I wouldn't race to your sides the minute I heard?”

Tess sniffed, still miffed at being caught acting on her own.

Jane stood her ground. “You can be cross if you want. Considering what's happened, it's fortunate I told her straightaway.”