‘He must be somewhere else then,’ Aubrey said and immediately awarded himself first prize in the Obvious Statement Stakes. He quickly went on. ‘Fled, no doubt, after his machinations.’
‘Not exactly, no. The porter at Kiefer’s college happened to be an old friend of my father. A good man, a noted authority on Albion amphibians.’
‘Kiefer’s turned into a frog?’
‘Try to keep up, Aubrey, I know you’re capable of it. Kiefer was seen being bundled into a motorcar by a Holmland diplomat.’
‘I see. And did the amphibian expert porter recognise this Holmlander?’
‘No, but his assistant did, thanks to his special interest in international politics.’
‘Well-educated staff at this college.’
‘If you’d spent any time with the staff at yours, Aubrey, you’d know that many of them are authorities in one field or another. They may not have formal degrees, but at Greythorn there are many opportunities to better oneself intellectually.’
‘The diplomat?’
‘Hugo von Stralick, Aubrey. Hugo von Stralick kidnapped Kiefer.’
Caroline’s cab rolled into Maidstone just as Aubrey’s father arrived in the prime ministerial motorcar. From the window of his room, Aubrey sighed as he watched Sir Darius leap to open the door of the cab. He didn’t need to hear the ensuing conversation to know that his father’s charm would be meeting Caroline’s dogged demanding for more progress on the votes for women front.
They could be hours if he didn’t do something about it.
He raced for the door, flinging a red velvet cushion over one shoulder as he went.
‘Oof!’ George toppled from the chaise longue where he’d been lying, doing his best to absorb Albion’s best journalistic practices through the novel method of draping newspapers over his face while he snored.
‘Caroline’s here,’ Aubrey said from the doorway. ‘And so is Father.’
George blinked. ‘Excellent. I think.’
‘We may be off at any minute.’
‘Good. Enough time for a nap, I’d say.’ At Aubrey’s expression, George held up a hand. ‘Only joking, old man.’ He rolled to his feet and made for the suitcase by the door. ‘Here, let me unveil a little surprise I had sent down from Greythorn.’
‘We don’t have much time,’ Aubrey said, eyeing the door.
‘This won’t take long. There.’
George straightened from fumbling through his luggage, beaming.
The garment he was holding looked like a sleeveless cardigan, but instead of buttons down the front it had two loose ties. This was all well and good, Aubrey decided. It was the way the entire object was covered with pockets that made it look bizarre.
‘Interesting sort of vest,’ he said carefully.
‘It’s for you, old man. Try it on.’
‘Really, George, it’s not the sort of thing I’d feel comfortable...’
‘Nonsense. It’s good, strong silk. And it’s not a fashion item. It’s an appurtenances vest.’
George thrust it at Aubrey. He ran his hand over it. ‘Appurtenances vest?’
‘For adventuring. You see, old man, you talk about planning and preparation, but lately I’ve noticed that you’ve been caught short, more than once. Without your magical wherewithal to do spells and the like.’ He grinned. ‘Stock up your appurtenances vest and you’ll never be without a candle stub, or a bit of chalk or whatever. Just don’t load yourself down too much. Wouldn’t do to clank when we’re trying to sneak up on a miscreant or two.’
Aubrey was touched. ‘And where did you get this fine piece of equipment?’
‘I made it.’
Aubrey stared.
‘Took a while, but I think I’m a dab hand with a sewing machine, now.’
Aubrey shook his head in wonder. ‘George, you’re a marvel.’
‘Correct. And don’t forget to tell Sophie Delroy. She forgets sometimes.’
Aubrey went to his desk. He slipped a feather, two fingernail-sized mirrors, a pinch of gold dust and a number of other lightweight and potentially useful materials into the pockets of the appurtenances vest. He slipped out of his shirt, wriggled into the vest – making sure the Beccaria Cage hung freely – and then back into his shirt.
‘How do I look?’
‘Ready for whatever may come. How does it feel?’
Aubrey swung his arms. ‘Very comfortable. Much more so than stuffing my pockets full of bits and pieces.’
‘And that must be a good thing.’ George yawned. ‘Go, old man. I’ll join you in a minute, once I’ve washed my face.’
Aubrey found Caroline and his father at the foot of the main stairs. They were talking earnestly – serious expressions, intense gesturing. He waited, judged the moment, then inserted himself into the conversation in a gap that made a split-second seem like a geological age.
‘Caroline. Father. I’m glad you’re here.’
‘How long have you been standing there, Aubrey?’ his father asked. Sir Darius was wearing his suit with the striped trousers, a sign that he’d been in Parliament. He stroked his moustache. ‘We were talking about the suffragist movement.’
‘And what the government is actually doing about the whole issue of votes for women,’ Caroline said.
A voice came from further into the house. ‘Bravo, Caroline. Don’t let the discussion become sidetracked. The issue isn’t the suffragist movement. The issue is what’s happening in Parliament and in the party room.’
Lady Rose came to her husband’s side and took his arm. She was wearing a loose green dress. Her hands were dirty and she had a basket over her arm from which a nose-tickling aroma arose.
‘Darling,’ Sir Darius said. ‘How are the herbs doing? Sage and parsley and whatnot?’
‘Splendidly. Especially the whatnot. I’m expecting a bumper crop of it. Hello, Caroline. It’s good to see you.’
Caroline smiled and greeted Lady Rose with a warmth that Aubrey was pleased to see. He knew Caroline admired his mother and her scientific work. He did his best to facilitate Caroline’s desire to help his mother, mainly because he did his best to do anything that would please Caroline, but also because it was likely to give him more opportunities to bump into her.
It wasn’t manipulation, he assured himself. Then he looked at it again and promised himself he’d monitor his motives carefully. After the fiasco in Lutetia, he was doubly careful to be honest in his dealings with Caroline.
She deserved it.
‘If you’ll excuse me, Lady Rose, Sir Darius. I’ve actually come to see Aubrey. And George.’ Caroline smiled and even at his distance at the top of the stairs, Aubrey felt it like a blow. A delicious, stupefying blow but one that nonetheless left his knees feeling weak as he tottered to join them.
Sir Darius looked doubtful. Lady Rose looked frankly sceptical. ‘Well, if you must. Are you sure?’
‘I am. We have matters to attend to.’
‘Another threat to national security?’ Sir Darius asked, then he winced. ‘No, don’t answer that. I don’t think I want to know at the moment. Plenty enough to worry about.’
Aubrey caught the tension in his father’s voice. ‘International or home affairs?’
‘The situation in the Goltans is precarious. Arnovia and Veltran are at each other’s throats.’
Lady Rose gripped his arm hard. ‘Holmland?’
‘Behind it all, no doubt. I’m meeting their ambassador this afternoon to listen to another litany of disapproval and denial.’ He scowled. ‘To make matters worse, it appears as if the Muscovian political unrest is increasing. The analysts from the Foreign Office say that Muscovia could either collapse into revolution or sign a treaty with Holmland. I don’t know which would be worse.’