"Of course, Mr. Trawley!" I bobbed another curtsy. "It would be my pleasure."
"Tefen." Trawley jerked his head in Edgar's direction. "See her home."
"Very well, sir. Come along, Rosy Light." His lips twitched ever so slightly as he said this, and I resisted the urge to slug him. Instead, I high-stepped it over to his side, then followed him down the corridor. Walking quickly, we made our way to the front door, where he paused and began patting his pockets, looking for a blindfold.
I took advantage of his distraction and opened the door and marched straight outside without waiting for the blindfold.
"Miss Theo!" he said, scandalized.
"Too late," I chirped at him. "I've seen it. Now quit dawdling and let's get back to the museum." As we moved to the carriage, I took stock of my surroundings. It was a quiet, well-to-do neighborhood. Near Fitzroy Square, if I wasn't mistaken. Who knew a temple of the Black Sun would lurk in such normal surroundings?
Stilton looked about nervously, anxious that none of the Black Sunners see my unblindfolded state. "In you go," he whispered, opening the carriage door. "Before the driver sees you."
I climbed into the carriage while he gave the address of the museum to the driver. As Stilton settled into his seat, he looked serious. "I know that I'm the one who introduced you to the Black Sun," he said, picking his words carefully. "But I think it best that you don't visit them when I'm not there."
"Visit them! I don't visit them! They jolly well kidnapped me right off the street."
Stilton looked even more worried. "Trawley seems very focused on that staff, doesn't he?" His foot began tapping out a rapid tattoo on the carriage floor until he quickly reached out with his hand and stopped it.
"You're the one that told him about the mouse." I didn't even try to keep the accusing tone out of my voice.
"I know, and I'm sorry for it. I'd hate to think I'd gotten you mixed up in something unhealthy, Theo."
"Shouldn't you have thought of that before you introduced us?"
"I was trying to rescue you at the time," he pointed out, a bit defensively. "I didn't have many resources available."
"True. I'd forgotten about that." If not for Edgar, who knows what would have happened to me when the Serpents of Chaos had commandeered my carriage.
When we arrived back at the museum, there was a grand carriage parked outside. Grandmother Throckmorton! My heart sank. Suddenly, Aloysius Trawley didn't seem so bad.
CHAPTER FIVE
Henry Makes an Unexpected Discovery
STILTON HAD THE DRIVER DROP ME at the corner of the square then take him around to the back of the building so we wouldn't be seen together and raise any suspicions.
I opened the front door of the museum and peered cautiously inside. The foyer was a jumbled mess, partially assembled display cases were scattered throughout and half-unpacked crates littered the floor. At first glance, it appeared empty. Then I spied Clive Fagenbush coming down the stairs, carrying an enormous crate.
Like a hound on a scent, he quickly found me.
"Where have you been? Your parents and grandmother have been looking all over for you." He seemed oddly pleased, as if he hoped I'd be getting in trouble for it.
"I was out for a walk," I told him. It felt as if I'd been gone for days, but it hadn't been more than two hours.
His look of disbelief told me what he thought of that excuse. Fagenbush managed to be more aware of my clandestine activities than anyone else, so he had good reason to be suspicious. He set the crate down and came over to where I stood. He confirmed we were alone, then lowered his voice. "Do you have a message for me to give to Wigmere?"
"Nope. Not a thing." I stepped around the crate to make my way to the family withdrawing room, but he moved to cut me off.
"You're supposed to report to Wigmere every day. Through me," he pointed out, his long nose quivering in frustration. "Have you come across anything else of note down in long-term storage? Anything else that Augustus Munk might have had hidden there?"
"Nothing more," I said. "You can tell Wigmere I'm still looking."
"Since you're not having any luck, perhaps someone with more experience ought to have a look. You might be missing something."
I arched an eyebrow, like I'd seen Mum do. "Wigmere seems to trust me with the task."
His lip curled in disdain. "Not everyone is as easily fooled by you as he is. Besides, if you're so very trustworthy, why did you sneak out today?"
Keeping tabs on me now, was he? "I don't see how that's any of your business."
"Wigmere has made you my business. And in spite of what I think of you, I have no intention of failing in my duties." Fagenbush sharpened his gaze, and I resisted a shudder. "I will have your reports for Wigmere. I will not let an eleven-year-old girl derail my career with the Brotherhood. Do you understand me? You can make this easy on us both, or you can make it quite difficult."
"We'll have to see about that," I muttered.
He recoiled in surprise. "What did you say?"
"I said, Have you seen my cat? I can't seem to find her this morning."
Before he could say anything further, an imperious voice came from the nearby hallway.
"But where is the gel?"
Grandmother! While I was rarely glad of her visits, I had to admit that today she'd timed it perfectly. Fagenbush shot me a dark look, then scuttled back up the stairs to retrieve another crate.
Grandmother's voice continued. "She's usually always underfoot, and now when I have need of her, she can't be found. How very contrary of her."
A horrible thought occurred to me. What if she had another one of those beastly governesses in tow? Just as I was considering hiding, she barreled into the room with Father trailing behind her. He looked quite put out.
"I don't know where she is, Mother, but perhaps next time if you'd let us know ahead that you planned to visit, we could be sure she was here to greet you."
Grandmother paused and surveyed the mess around her. "Really, Alistair. Is this any way to run a museum? It's a pigsty. It's bad enough you chose to work; the least you could do is keep your museum tidy."
"We're preparing a new exhibit, Mother. And we're closed for preparations, so no one will have to see the mess. Except for those who drop by unannounced," he said pointedly.
"Theodosia! There you are," Grandmother said, sailing toward me. "Where have you been, child? We've nearly turned this place upside down looking for you. It was most inconsiderate of you to disappear."
I opened my eyes wide and tried to look innocent. "I've been in the basement all day, cataloging the items down there."
"Really?" Father frowned. "That was the first place I looked."
"Well," I demurred. "I did have to come upstairs to use the facilities. Perhaps you just missed me?"
Grandmother thumped her cane. "Do not be vulgar."
"What would you prefer I call it, Grandmother? The water closet?"
"I would prefer you didn't call it anything at all. It's not spoken of in polite company. Now, Sopcoate seemed rather fond of you. I thought perhaps you'd have some ideas."
Oh no! I did not want to discuss Admiral Sopcoate with Grandmother Throckmorton! She'd been rather sweet on him, which, as disgusting as it was, wasn't nearly so bad as him turning out to be an agent of Chaos. She thought he'd died a hero's death when really he'd simply escaped with his fellow Serpents of Chaos. "Ideas for what?" I asked cautiously.
Father clapped his hands together. "Well, now that you've found her, I think I'll be off to the workroom."
Honestly. He was such a coward sometimes!