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“No. But I want to talk to you.” She slammed the broom cupboard shut.
“It’s not usual for a servant to make demands of her master,” Lord Grave snapped. “But follow me.”
Lucy followed Lord Grave and Bathsheba into the drawing room. He closed the door behind them. Then he sat down in one of the leather armchairs next to the fireplace. Bathsheba’s yellow eyes blinked sleepily at Lucy, but there was a dangerous glint in them. The panther yawned widely, as though she was taking the opportunity to demonstrate the sharpness of her fangs.
“Well?” Lord Grave said.
“I’m not going to work for you. I won’t clean your dirty boots or anything else. You can’t make me.”
Lord Grave opened a silver box, which sat on the side table next to his chair. He took out a cigar and a round piece of metal with a hole in the middle. He put the end of the cigar through the hole and pressed the side of the instrument. A blade sliced the end of the cigar off.
“I could make things very difficult for you. You’ve cheated at cards many times. I wonder what your victims would say if they found out?”
Lucy clasped her hands together behind her back to stop them shaking. Did this mean he knew about her card? “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” she said aloud.
“You’re not fooling me, Lucy. You’ll stay here and do as you’re told. Do you want to see your parents end up in prison, let alone yourself?”
“We haven’t done anything wrong. Why do you want me to stay here?”
Lord Grave got out of his chair and put his cigar in the black leather cigar case he carried in his pocket. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now get back to work.”
Lord Grave and Bathsheba strode out of the drawing room, passing Becky, who bustled in armed with brooms and cloths and bottles of polish.
“Hope he told you what’s what, Goodly. We need to get on with cleaning this room.” She thrust a cloth at Lucy. “You dust the mantelpiece while I sweep the hearth.”
Lucy swallowed down her hatred of Lord Grave, snatched the cloth from Becky and began dusting. Outside, the sky darkened and rain rattled against the windows, as though the weather had decided to match Lucy’s bad mood.
A large painting hung above the mantelpiece. It showed a young woman. Her elaborately curled dark hair had an unusual white streak in the front. Her long dress was pale blue. The baby she held on her lap was chewing on a silver teething ring, which had a charm dangling from it. Lucy peered closely at the portrait and saw that the charm was a swan.
“Who are they?” Lucy asked.
Becky scowled and continued sweeping. “Lady Grave and little Lord Grave.”
“His Lordship’s wife and son?”
“Of course. Nitwit.”
Lucy gritted her teeth. “But where are they now?”
“Too many questions, Goodly.”
“Are they—?”
“Dead?” said another voice. Vonk stood in the doorway. “Yes. Lady Grave died from a fever not long after the portrait was painted. The young Lord Grave departed five years ago when he was only seven. A great tragedy for his Lordship. He’s never really recovered from it.” Vonk strode across the red carpet, stopping in front of the portrait.
Becky, who had instantly leaped back to her dustpan and brush when Vonk appeared, smirked. “I told her to stop asking questions.”
“Sorry, Vonk,” said Lucy. Perhaps the two tragedies partly explained why Lord Grave was so horrible, although that still didn’t excuse him.
Vonk raised his eyebrows. “Not a crime to be curious. Sign of intelligence.”
Becky dropped her brush with a clatter on to the marble hearth and muttered under her breath.
“It’s a beautiful painting, don’t you think?” Vonk said.
“Yes,” Lucy agreed. Then she noticed that something unusual was happening to the portrait. Orange-red flames were flickering in Lady Grave’s eyes. This startled Lucy for a moment, until she realised Becky had lit the lamps that hung on the opposite wall. The reflection of the flames reminded Lucy of the night she’d stolen the card. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as she remembered. It had happened over two years ago, just before her tenth birthday …
She was standing sleepily at the back of a rundown gambling den, waiting for her parents to lose yet another card game. The doors of the gambling den creaked open and a blast of cold air whipped in from outside. Lucy stared as the woman who had entered the den made her way to the poker tables. She wore a fine, warm-looking scarlet coat with black velvet frogging down the front and a red hat with a red veil. Her hair was red too and fell loosely around her shoulders. The woman smiled at Lucy as she passed.
Lucy’s sleepiness vanished. It’s her again. She’d seen the woman, whom she’d nicknamed Lady Red, several times over the past few weeks in various gambling dens.
“Good evening, everyone,” said Lady Red. She sailed past the table Lucy’s parents were sitting at and settled herself at a table further down the room where a game had just finished. The other poker players gaped at the well-dressed new arrival. Most of them were as rundown as the gambling den.
A new round of poker began. As the cards were dealt, Lucy quietly made her way across the room until she stood just behind Lady Red’s chair.
Lady Red lost the first game. But then something strange happened. The same something strange Lucy saw last time she watched this mysterious woman play poker. The cards in Lady Red’s hand went blank. A few seconds later, they became new cards. Cards that won the poker game instantly. Last time Lucy had witnessed this amazing trick, she had noticed something else. The edge of a playing card poking out from Lady Red’s sleeve.
The other players, who had noticed nothing amiss, muttered angrily as they discovered they had lost the game.
“Another round?” one particularly grubby individual asked.
Lady Red declined, as Lucy expected she would. She only ever stayed for one or two hands of poker.
“How does she do it?” Lucy muttered to herself as Lady Red gathered up the notes and coins she’d won, and pushed back her chair, which banged straight into Lucy.
“Oh, I’m sorry, sweet child, I didn’t see you there! Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” Lucy said, hoping the woman wouldn’t guess she’d been spying.
“Well, that’s a relief. In that case, I wonder if you’d mind helping me to my coach?” Lady Red said as she finished stuffing her winnings into a fancy silk bag. “I’m wearing most unsuitable shoes for this icy weather.” She lifted her long skirts to show a pair of dainty scarlet velvet shoes with a high pointed heel. “I’ll reward you, of course.”
Lucy agreed instantly. They made their way outside, where Lucy took the woman’s arm and helped her to the black carriage that was waiting. It was drawn by a fine dark horse, its breath steaming in the cold air. The driver was so bundled up against the cold that all that Lucy could see of him was the tip of his nose.
Lady Red stopped at the bottom of the carriage steps. “I have an idea. Why don’t you hop in with me? We could go to my house. Have cocoa and toast in front of the fire. I’ll still give you a coin too, of course.”
Lucy’s empty stomach rumbled at the thought of cocoa and toast. She and her parents hadn’t eaten a proper meal in days. But Lady Red had something Lucy wanted even more than food. The thought of what she was about to do made her tremble. It wasn’t in her nature to thieve, but Lucy was truly desperate.
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Lucy said. But she didn’t move.
“Wonderful. Hurry up now, it’s cold. You get in first.”
“I’ve never ridden in a carriage before. Do I just go up these steps?” Lucy asked, trying to sound bewildered.
“Why don’t I help you in?” Lady Red spoke very slowly, as though Lucy was three years old. “Take my hand.”
Lucy took the woman’s gloved hand in her own rough cold one. And just as she had hoped, Lucy saw a playing card poking out from the bottom of Lady Red’s sleeve. Lucy snatched it and pulled herself free. For a split second, Lucy’s eyes met Lady Red’s, which blazed suddenly like tiny twin suns.
Lucy turned and ran.
And ran.
And ran some more.
Lady Red tried to run after her. But she hadn’t been lying about her shoes being useless in the snow. She slipped and fell.
“Treeves, after her!” Lady Red yelled. This was followed by the creak of wheels and the crunch of ice as the carriage began to move. But Lucy knew the alleyways and backstreets to dart down, all of them so narrow the vehicle would never squeeze through, so it didn’t take her long to shake off her pursuer.
Lucy told no one about the card, not even her parents. It took her a lot of practice to work out how to use it. And even when she did, it was a long time before she plucked up the courage to gamble with it. But when she eventually did, her nightmare life of poverty, hunger and cold soon ended. Her parents quickly began to let her take charge of things, never questioning her about her newfound skill. Although Lucy earned enough to make the Goodlys’ lives comfortable and carefree, she wasn’t greedy or reckless. She made sure she lost a few games to avoid suspicion. And she never played opponents who were as poor as she once was.
Lucy was also careful never to visit dens where she’d seen Lady Red. She always feared the woman would find her somehow. But she never did, except in Lucy’s dreams, when she would open the door of Lucy’s bedroom, eyes burning in that unnatural way.
“Give it back. Give it back!” she’d shout.
For a while, Lucy couldn’t sleep for fear of Lady Red making an appearance. But as she was a sensible girl who always tried to find a solution to her problems, she soon trained herself to get out of bed in her dreams and slam the door in Lady Red’s face. Eventually the nightmares went away.
“Something wrong?” said Vonk.
Lucy blinked herself back into the present. “No. You’re right, it is a lovely painting. Lady Grave’s got a very kind face.”
“Yes. Lady Tabitha was one of the best. She loved animals, couldn’t bear to see them mistreated. She persuaded his Lordship to bring Bathsheba home. She rescued the elephants from a circus. And so on. Now, back to your work, girls.” Vonk turned and strode out of the room, the ring of his shoes on the tiled hallway gradually fading into the distance.
“You’ve gone a funny colour,” said Becky.
“Have I?”
“Urgh, have you got some revolting disease? Maybe it’s that nose-rotting one. I read all about it. Your nose goes mouldy and then drops off. Be an improvement in your case.”
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_87138fe1-ae40-5b09-a04c-bcb79a847b11)
HIDING BEHIND A RHINOCEROS (#ulink_87138fe1-ae40-5b09-a04c-bcb79a847b11)
Wearing a full suit of armour in the middle of summer really was no fun, but it was better than being eaten alive by a panther or squashed to death by an elephant. Lucy tried to comfort herself with this thought as she opened the gate set into the spiked iron fence that separated Grave Hall from his Lordship’s wildlife park. She was pushing a wheelbarrow of straw.
Lucy’s second day at Grave Hall was turning out to be even worse than her first. Lord Grave had ordered that one of her new duties was to feed Bathsheba and clean out the wooden hut the giant cat slept in at night.
Lucy closed the gate behind her. Bathsheba, who’d been snoozing in the afternoon sun, leaped to her paws when she spotted the bucket of raw meat that was hooked over one handle of the wheelbarrow.
“Keep back!” Lucy said. She slung the bucket’s contents on to the ground. Bathsheba pounced on it, growling her appreciation. For such an elegant animal, the panther had deplorable table manners. She chomped her meat so loudly she scared off some of Lord Grave’s parrots who were roosting in a nearby tree.
Lucy reluctantly set about cleaning the hut, which was almost as big as Leafy Ridge. She picked up gnawed bones from Bathsheba’s previous meals and changed the dirty straw for the fresh. The armour made her movements stiff and awkward. The white feather plume on the top of Lucy’s helmet bobbed up and down annoyingly and she grew hotter and hotter inside her metal second skin.
When she’d finally finished her work, and Bathsheba had torn and swallowed the last of the meat, Lucy returned to the Grave Hall side of the fence. She took off her helmet, put it on top of the smelly contents of her wheelbarrow and began toiling back to the house.
If she hadn’t been slowly cooking inside her armour, it might have been pleasant wandering along in the warm sun with the elephants trumpeting to each other in the distance. Homesickness washed over Lucy. On days like this at home, she and her parents would sit outside after supper and watch Phoebe chasing dragonflies.
Why did Lord Grave want to keep her here against her will? Was it just because it meant he had a boot girl he didn’t need to pay? Or could there be some other more sinister reason? It was all very worrying. The urge to run away was so strong it made her stomach hurt. She’d spent most of last night trying to think of a getaway plan. But Lucy’s usual resourcefulness seemed to have taken a holiday. Every solution she came up with had a fatal flaw, such as wild animals mauling her or the police dragging her off to prison for cheating at cards.
I’m trapped here.
The thought made her feel panicky and very alone. If only her parents were more reliable. Shouldn’t they be coming up with a plan to rescue her? But then again, even if they came up with one, it probably wouldn’t work.
A rumbling noise interrupted Lucy’s musings. She looked up. The sky was an innocent blue, with not a single cloud in sight.
The rumbling rumbled more loudly.
It seemed to be coming from the front of the house. Lucy abandoned her wheelbarrow and clattered round to the main entrance to see what was going on. When she got there, everything looked as it usually did – the stone pillars at either side of the huge front door with its gleaming lion’s head knocker looked solid and upright. The gravel drive was neat and weed-free.The bushes that lined it were expertly trimmed into the shape of Lord Grave’s favourite animals, all thanks to Vonk.
The rumbling rumbled some more.
Then a slash appeared a few feet above the drive. It was as though someone had painted a bright ragged line in mid-air.
Lucy flung herself behind a rhinoceros-shaped topiary. Of course, she soon discovered that flinging oneself while wearing armour is a not very sensible course of action. She ended up lying in a tangled metal heap behind the rhino. Once she’d struggled into a crouching position, Lucy could see that the slash hanging above the drive had widened. Now it was more of a hole than a slash. Lucy could feel the rumbling coming from it. Her armour rattled.
Then, as the rumbling reached a crescendo, four horses pulling a black carriage galloped out of the hole. Their manes and tails were soft and fluffy, more like thistledown than horsehair. And there was something odd growing out of their shoulders. Lucy gawped as she realised they were wings – elegant, transparent wings, which reflected tiny beads of colour where the sunlight touched them.
Lucy cowered further behind the rhinoceros, her metal-gloved hand over her mouth.
Water began trickling through the hole, spattering the gravel. The trickle became a gush, and the gush became a wave carrying a small sailing boat. The wave broke, landing the boat on the gravel. Seawater foamed over the drive and trickled towards Lucy before drying up as quickly as it had appeared. A gangplank shot out from the side of the boat and a man and a woman disembarked. Both had silvery hair and were dressed in navy blue. The silver-haired people strode over to the carriage and began speaking to whoever or whatever was inside.
Lucy began unfastening her armour as quietly as she could. Her fingers trembled and by the time she’d undone all the buckles, the strange people gathering on the drive had made their way inside the hall. Lucy sprinted out from behind the rhinoceros, round to the back of the house and into the kitchen. Becky Bone was there, sitting in Vonk’s chair at the head of the kitchen table and poring over the latest edition of the Penny Dreadful. Becky loved the Penny Dreadful, which was full of what Vonk described as a steaming pile of utter nonsense. Smell was curled up on Becky’s lap.
“Where’s Mrs Crawley?” asked Lucy, gasping for breath.
Becky didn’t look up from the Penny. “Gone down to the village on her penny-farthing. She’s getting her beard trimmed. That little sap Violet has gone with her.”
“I just saw the strangest thing. These people just arrived and—”
“What people?”
“They’ve gone inside now, but … well, come and see.”
“This better not be some stupid trick, Goodly. There’s another child gone missing, you know. Eddie Robinson, he’s called.” Becky held up the paper. It had the headline:
ANOTHER MISSING CHILD!
Below the headline was a drawing of a boy with untidy hair and a mole on his left cheek.
“The Penny thinks they’re all being eaten by flesh-eating zombies,” Becky said.
“Never mind that! Come on!”
Becky sighed loudly, but she put the Penny Dreadful down and gently moved Smell off her lap. He yawned and stretched before following the two girls out of the kitchen.
“What am I supposed to be looking at?” Becky said when the three of them reached the front of the house.
“Those horses! That boat!”
Becky folded her arms. “What are you talking about, boot girl? There’s nothing there. I wish some zombie would eat you, you pea brain.” She tutted and stomped off back to the kitchen and the Penny. Smell didn’t immediately follow her. He gazed up at Lucy, considering her with his unblinking orange eye, before trotting slowly off.
