Or simply see me, rather than spend the entire evening looking over my head at other adults.
Pretending I hadn't heard them, I raised up on my tiptoes, trying to spot the mummy. I couldn't believe I would have overlooked a mummy lying about in plain sight, even if I had been being chased by the Serpents of Chaos.
It was hopeless. There were too many people, all of whom were taller than I was. When I pulled my gaze back down, I found an elderly man examining me through his monocle as if I were a bug at the end of a pin. A very round woman dressed in mustard-colored ruffles lifted her lorgnette to the bridge of her nose, then tut-tutted. Honestly! You'd think they'd never seen an eleven-year-old girl before.
"I suppose we'd best go pay our respects to Mother." Father made the suggestion with the same enthusiasm he might have shown for leaping off the London Bridge straight into the foul, icy water of the river Thames.
Which was precisely how I felt about seeing Grandmother, frankly. Luckily, the crowd shifted just then and I spied someone I recognized. "Oh look, Father! There's Lord Snowthorpe." And although he wasn't one of my favorite people, he was standing next to one of my favorite people, Lord Wigmere. Only, I wasn't supposed to know Wigmere even existed, as he was the head of the Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers, a secret organization whose sworn duty was to keep watch over all the sacred objects and artifacts in the country. Because the British Empire had amassed quite a few relics and ensorcelled items, it was quite a job. It was the Brotherhood that stood between our country and any of that ancient magic getting loose and wreaking horror upon us. Well, them and me, that is. I waved at the two men.
"No, Theo!" Father hissed. "I don't wish to speak to—"
"Throckmorton!" Lord Snowthorpe called out.
"Oh, blast it all. Now look what you've done."
Didn't Father realize that Snowthorpe was a hundred times better than Grandmother? Besides, I was hoping one of these gentlemen might be as repulsed by the mummy unwrapping as we were. Since they didn't work for Lord Chudleigh, perhaps they could put a stop to it.
When we reached Snowthorpe, Lord Wigmere winked at me, then ever so slightly shook his head, letting me know I wasn't to let on I knew him. I winked back.
There were a lot of false hearty hellos and good-to-see-yous exchanged, then Snowthorpe got down to his real reason for wanting to say hello: snooping. "I say, did that Heart of Egypt of yours ever turn up?" he asked.
Father stiffened, and Mother raised her nose into the air. "I'm afraid not," she said. "The burglar got clean away."
That was a subject I wouldn't mind avoiding for a while longer. Say, a lifetime. My parents had no idea that I had been the one to return the Heart of Egypt to it's proper resting place in the Valley of the Kings. It had been the only way to nullify the dreadful curse the artifact had been infected with. Of course, I'd had a bit of help from Wigmere and his Brotherhood of the Chosen Keepers. But my parents didn't know that, either.
"What was all that rot you fed me about having it cleaned, then?" Snowthorpe demanded.
"We..." Father turned to Mother with a desperate look on his face. She stared back, fumbling for something to say.
They couldn't have looked more guilty if they tried, so I spoke up. "The authorities had asked us to keep quiet until they made a few inquiries. They didn't want the perpetrators to catch wind of how much they knew or who they suspected."
Four pairs of eyes looked down at me in surprise.
"Isn't that what they said, Father?" I prompted.
"Yes," he said, recovering nicely. "Exactly what they said."
Wigmere's mustache twitched. "Do introduce me to this charming young lady, Throckmorton."
As if we needed any introduction! We'd only worked closely together on averting one of the worst crises ever to reach British soil.
"Forgive me. Lord Wigmere, this is my daughter, Theodosia Throckmorton. Theodosia, this is Lord Wigmere, head of the Antiquarian Society."
I gave a proper curtsy. "I'm very pleased to meet you, sir."
"And I you."
Before Snowthorpe could begin jawing on again about the Heart of Egypt, I decided to raise my concerns. "Have you heard what Lord Chudleigh's planning for this evening?"
I felt Father scowl at me, but I did my best to ignore him, which was rather difficult when his heated gaze threatened to burn a hole through my skull.
Snowthorpe brightened. "You mean the mummy unwrapping?"
"Yes, but don't you think it's wrong to do it as ... entertainment?"
Snowthorpe dismissed my words with a wave of his hand. "Gad no! It's good for business, that. People love mummies, and whenever their interest goes up, so do museum ticket sales."
"But isn't it desecration?"
The pleasant expression left Snowthorpe's face and he looked down at me, almost as if seeing me for the first time. "You sound just like Wigmere here. He'd have us ship all our artifacts back to Egypt if he had his way."
Well, certainly the cursed ones, anyway. I sent a beseeching look in Wigmere's direction, but he shook his head sympathetically. "I already tried and got nowhere. Chudleigh's too intent on having his fun."
Disappointment spiked through me. I looked over my shoulder. The crowd had broken up a bit. I caught a glimpse of a table with guests clustered around it, but I still couldn't see the mummy itself.
Really, this fete of theirs was no fun at all. Not what I thought of as a proper party. I caught yet another old codger staring at me and realized that such scrutiny had made me beastly thirsty. I suddenly craved a glass of lemon smash or cold ginger beer. As I searched the crowd for the man with the refreshment tray, yet another old lady examined me through her opera glasses. I wrinkled my nose. Didn't these people realize how rude that was?
The woman dropped her glasses, and I was dismayed to find myself staring into the shocked face of Grandmother Throckmorton! I quickly turned away, pretending I hadn't seen her.
Seconds later, a very stiff-looking footman appeared at Father's side. "Madam wishes me to request you attend her immediately."
"What?" he asked, then caught sight of his mother. "Oh yes, of course!" He bid goodbye to Wigmere and Snowthorpe, then herded us over to where Grandmother was conversing with a rather short, barrel-shaped man.
When we reached her, she offered up her cheek to Father for a kiss. He did so (grudgingly, I'm sure), and then she turned to Mother and inclined her head slightly. "Henrietta."
"Madam." Mother nodded back.
Grandmother ignored me completely. She still wasn't speaking to me for having run away while under her care. Even so, I wanted to prove I could be polite even if she couldn't and gave my very best curtsy. "How do you do, Grandmother? It's very good to see you again."
Grandmother sniffed in disapproval, then asked Father, "What is she doing here?"
"Now, Mother. She did make a rather remarkable find, locating that secondary annex to Amenemhab's tomb. Lord Chudleigh suggested we bring her along to celebrate her first find for the museum."
"This is no place for children and her schedule is already far too irregular. If you cannot see to her proper upbringing, then perhaps I shall take her to hand." Grandmother studied me for a long moment before continuing. "Have you had any luck in locating a new governess for her?"
Mother and Father exchanged guilty glances. I could tell they'd forgotten all about it. "Not yet. But we'll keep looking." Mother missed the look of scorn Grandmother sent her way, but I didn't. I narrowed my eyes and glared at the old bat.
Except she was so busy ignoring me, she missed it and turned to the man standing beside her. I was left to stew on the idea of Grandmother overseeing my upbringing. I was torn between horror at the thought and fury at her treatment of Mother.