I stood back up and found Clive Fagenbush watching me with his beady little eyes. "What on earth are you doing?" he asked, balancing the top end of a New Kingdom scribe in excellent condition.
Stilton looked up from the other end of the royal mummy. "She's just looking for one of Isis's toys. Oh! Found it, did you? Good job." He gently pushed his end, prodding Fagenbush with the other end. "Let's get moving, shall we? Before Weems comes round to clean our clocks again."
Sending a silent thank-you Stilton's way, I gingerly grasped the mouse by the tail and hurried for the catacombs.
I paused at the top of the stairs to listen. Hearing nothing, I decided it was safe to proceed. At the foot of the steps, I saw that none of the mummies had moved. Thankfully, it didn't look as if the Anubis statue had moved again, either. Which reminded me. I needed to research how to permanently remove the curse that had allowed him to spring to life the other day.
But first things first.
I set the little mouse down onto the floor, then retrieved the staff from it's hiding place. Seven mummified heads followed it. Most eerie.
I pointed the head of the staff at the mouse, wondering what I was supposed to do to get it to work. Shake it, maybe? Say something? But before I thought much further than that, the mouse twitched.
I glanced at the mummies, worried the staff might affect them somehow. But except for their painted eyes tracking the staff's movements intently, they seemed unchanged.
The mouse, however, twitched again. I leaned forward to see better. The mouse gave a shudder, then stretched his little arms and legs. He rolled over onto his feet, sniffed the air, and made a mad dash for the nearest shelf, which he disappeared beneath.
Well. I let out a long breath. That worked. It was indeed the Staff of Osiris.
A creak sounded behind me. My heart in my throat, I whirled around, terrified that one of the mummies had decided to come a little closer. But no, they were all lined up where they had been.
Anxious to get this most powerful artifact out of my hands, I shoved it under the shelf where the mouse had disappeared. It was still close to the mummies, but not out in plain sight.
I stood up and brushed off my skirt. My next order of business was to get word to Wigmere.
Immediately.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Feeling the Pinch
I HURRIED UP TO THE FOYER, anxious to get a look out the window and see if Will was waiting outside for a message as Wigmere had said he would be. Instead, I received a nasty shock. My parents were there, greeting Grandmother Throckmorton, who had just arrived with yet another governess candidate. Where did she find them all? And so quickly!
"Good morning, Mother," Father said.
Grandmother gave him a regal nod. "Alistair. Henrietta. I thought we'd best get here before another new scandal erupted."
"Now, Mother..." Father began.
But she caught sight of me and interrupted him. "Theodosia." She smiled, which was so startling, I forgot to curtsy. "I have found you the perfect governess. This is Miss Elizabeth Sharpe, and she's agreed to try to bring you to hand."
The young woman standing next to her blushed prettily, and I do mean prettily. She had pale gold hair and big blue eyes, and she smiled demurely at the compliment Grandmother had just paid her. Father stood staring at her stupidly until Mum elbowed him in the ribs. "Right!" he said, as if waking up from a short nap. "Well, we'll leave you to it." Mum gave a quick nod, then dragged him down the hallway and up to their workroom.
I smiled at Miss Sharpe. I would normally have been suspect at Grandmother's third choice, but Miss Sharpe was so lovely that I immediately wanted her to be my friend. "How do you do, Miss Sharpe?"
"Very well, thank you, Theodosia. I'm sure we'll get along splendidly."
In truth, so was I. For the first time ever, I had high hopes for a governess. She wasn't prune-faced or pinched or disapproving.
Grandmother looked very pleased with herself, and since I was in such charity with her for picking such an appealing governess, I didn't even mind when she said, "You said you'd be able to mold and shape her?" That had Miss Sharpe sounding rather like a sculptor.
"Oh yes, madam. We shall have results." And this time when Miss Sharpe smiled, it felt vaguely like a threat and reminded me that a sculptor's tools were much sharper than a whip.
"Miss Sharpe—" I started to say.
"Ah, ah, ah!" She held up her finger. "I don't believe you've been spoken to, have you? And children must not speak unless spoken to. That is Golden Rule Number One."
Grandmother smirked in approval.
What a load of rubbish! I held up my hand, and Miss Sharpe graciously nodded her head. "Yes, Theodosia?"
"How am I to ask questions, then, if I can't speak unless spoken to?"
"You will find a proper lady has little need to ask questions. A proper lady is content with the explanations given and does not question her betters."
"But Socrates said that the best education is based on questioning. Surely you've heard of the Socratic method?"
She placed her hands on either side of her head. "Oh, my ears! How they burn with such impertinent talk." She turned to Grandmother. "Madam, I fear you have called me none too soon."
Grandmother gave a satisfied nod. "I thought so."
I raised my hand again, but this time both of them ignored me.
"How would you like to proceed?" Grandmother asked.
"I think it would be helpful if Theodosia and I took a little walk around the museum and got acquainted. You mentioned she's spent a lot of time here. I'd like to get a sense of what the unhealthy influences in her life have been so I can root them out." There was that small smile-that-wasn't-really-a-smile again.
"There's nothing unhealthy about our museum," I said hotly. Well, there was. But she didn't know about the curses. And that wasn't what she'd meant, anyway.
Miss Sharpe's eyes narrowed and she reached out and snagged my hand in hers. "Come," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "Let us begin our getting acquainted, shall we?"
And with that, she dragged me from the foyer into the hall.
"But Miss Sharpe," I began, then yelped in outrage when she pinched me.
"I don't believe you've been spoken to, Theodosia." Her eyes glittered with challenge.
"But you pinch—ow!" She'd done it again!
"And I will pinch you every time you fall out of line. I have many tools to help me mold young girls into proper young ladies."
I glared at her as I rubbed my arm. This would never do. And it was an excellent lesson on just how vile the most lovely package could be inside.
"So." She grabbed my hand again. "What would you like to show me first?"
It was all I could do to keep from yanking my hand from hers, but I really didn't want another pinch. I was already feeling black and blue. I shot her a sideways glance, not certain whether her question was a trap.
"You may speak now, Theodosia, as I have asked you a question. Stubbornness is most unattractive."
Ha! I thought. Tell that to Grandmother Throckmorton. My mind worked furiously. I had to think of something to get rid of her. But what? I led her down the hall, only to find myself yanked back by the arm.
"Ladies do not gallop," Miss Sharpe informed me. "They walk at a sedate pace."
"Yes, Miss Sharpe." You wretched cow. "Speaking of Socrates, would you care to see our classics exhibit?"
"Why, yes, Theodosia. That would be delightful."
When we reached the doorway, I stood back so Miss Sharpe could poke her head into the room. Her gaze brushed past the life-size statue of Adonis that had so shocked Miss Chittle and scanned the rest of the statues. "Adequate enough," she announced.