Part 25 (1/2)
”Not entirely. Pack service to Queen Victoria is mandatory.” The conversation was getting tense.
”But it does not have to take the form of military service.”
”We are not loners to slink about the homeland with tails twixt our legs.” Dubh actually looked to Lord Maccon for a.s.sistance in dealing with his irascible wife. The earl merely winked at him.
Help came from an unlooked-for source. ”I hear Egypt has some very nice, old”-Ivy was trying to keep matters civil-”stuff.”
”Antiquities,” added Felicity, proud of herself for knowing the word.
In a desperate attempt to keep Lady Maccon and the Beta from killing one another, Lachlan said, ”We picked up quite a collection while we were there.”
Dubh growled at his pack mate.
”Isn't that illegal?” Lord Maccon wondered softly in his BUR voice. No one paid him any attention, except for his wife, who pinched him.
She said, ”Oh, really? What kind of artifacts?”
”A few bits of jewelry and some statuary to add to the pack vault and, of course, a couple of mummies.”
Ivy gasped. ”Real live mummies?”
Felicity snorted. ”I should hope they are not alive.” But even she seemed excited by the idea of mummies in residence. Alexia supposed that, in her sister's world, such things were considered glamorous.
Lady Maccon said, pressing her advantage, ”We should have a mummy-unwrapping party. They are all the rage in London.”
”Well, we shouldna want to be thought backward,” said Lady Kingair's abrasive voice. She had come upon them all unnoticed, looking gray and severe. Lord Maccon, Lachlan, and Dubh all started upon hearing her speak. They were accustomed to having their supernatural sense of smell tell them when anyone approached, no matter how stealthily.
Sidheag turned to the Gamma. ”Lachlan, get the clavigers to arrange it.”
”Are you certain, my lady?” he questioned.
”We could do with a bit of fun. We wouldna want to disappoint the visiting ladies, now, would we? We are in possession of the mummies. Might as well unwrap them. We were after the amulets anyway.”
”Oh, how thrilling,” said Miss Hisselpenny, practically bouncing in her excitement.
”Which mummy, my lady?” asked Lachlan.
”The smaller one, with the more nondescript coverings.”
”As you say.” The Gamma hurried off to arrange for the event.
”Oh, I shall find this so very diverting,” crowed Felicity. ”You know Elsie Flinders-Pooke was lording it over me just last week that she had been to an unwrapping. Imagine what she will say when I tell her I experienced one in a haunted castle in the Scottish Highlands.”
”How do you know Kingair is haunted?”
”I know because, obviously, it must must be haunted. You could not possibly convince me otherwise. No ghosts have appeared since we arrived, but that is no proof to the contrary,” Felicity defended her future tall tale. be haunted. You could not possibly convince me otherwise. No ghosts have appeared since we arrived, but that is no proof to the contrary,” Felicity defended her future tall tale.
”Delighted we could provide you with some significant social coup,” sneered Lady Kingair.
”Your pleasure, I'm sure,” replied Felicity.
”My sister is a woman of mean understanding,” explained Lady Maccon apologetically.
”And what are you?” asked Sidheag.
”Oh, I am simply mean.”
”And here I was, thinking you were the sister with the understanding.”
”Not just yet. Give me time.”
They turned around and headed back toward the castle. Lord Maccon moved to draw his wife back slightly so they could converse privately.
”You believe one of the artifacts to be a humanization weapon?”
She nodded.
”But how would we know which one?”
”You may have to come allover BUR on the Kingair Pack and simply confiscate all their collected antiquities as illegal imports.”
”And then what? See them all incinerated?”
Lady Maccon frowned. She fancied herself a bit of a scholar and was not generally in favor of wanton destruction. ”I had not thought to take things quite so far.”
”It would be a terrible destruction, and I should be opposed, save that we canna simply have these things wandering around the empire. Imagine if they fell into the wrong hands?”
”Such as the Hypocras Club?” Lady Maccon shuddered to even think it.
”Or the vampires.” No matter how integrated the two became into civilized society, werewolves and vampires would never really trust one another.
Lady Maccon stopped suddenly. Her husband got four long strides ahead before he realized she had paused. She was staring thoughtfully up into the aether, twirling the deadly parasol about her head.
”I have just remembered something,” Alexia said when he returned to her side.
”Oh, that explains everything. How foolish of me to think you could walk and remember at the same time.”
She stuck her tongue out at him but began drifting toward the house once more. He slowed to match her pace. ”That bug, the one that scared me at breakfast. It was not a c.o.c.kroach at all. It was a scarab beetle. From Egypt. It must have something to do with the artifacts they brought back.”
Lord Maccon's lip curled. ”Yuck.”
They had fallen some distance behind the rest of the party. The others were busy entering the castle just as someone else emerged. There was a pause while they all politely greeted one another, and then the new figure headed purposefully in the direction of Lord and Lady Maccon.
The figure rapidly resolved itself into the personage of Madame Lefoux.
Alexia waved a ”how do you do” at the Frenchwoman. She was wearing her beautiful morning coat of dove-gray, striped trousers, a black satin waistcoat, and a royal-blue cravat. It made for a pretty picture, the Kingair castle-mist-shrouded and gray in the background-and the attractive woman, as improperly dressed as she may be, hurrying toward them. Until Madame Lefoux neared enough for them to realize she was also wearing something else: a concerned expression.
”I am glad I 'ave found you two.” Her accent was unusually strong. She sounded almost as bad as Angelique. ”Ze most extraordinary thing, Lady Maccon. I waz looking for you just now to let you know, we went to check on the aethographor; then I saw-”
The most tremendous clap resounded through the Scottish air. Alexia felt certain she could see the mist shake with the noise. Madame Lefoux, her face changing from worry to surprise, stopped midsentence and midstep and tumbled forward, as limp as overcooked pasta. A bloom of red appeared on one immaculate gray lapel.