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Then Mrs Hepworth quickened her pace a little, striding ahead a dozen or so steps, just at a time when Caroline slowed. Aubrey, of course, matched her pace.

‘Mother is discreet,’ Caroline said softly. ‘I didn’t even have to ask her.’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Aubrey said, confused.

‘She knew I’d want to find out what you’ve been up to since leaving Albion. She’s giving us a chance.’

Aubrey admired Caroline’s mother, and was thankful for her modern outlook. As well as being an outstanding artist, she was a famous free-thinker, one of the most progressive women in Albion. Her views on raising her daughter were generally thought of as scandalous, but she never cared for public opinion.

And, Aubrey had found, she treated him well – better than he probably deserved.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘We started on a train.’

Aubrey was conscious of Mrs Hepworth leading the way, not far ahead, and he kept the report as concise as possible. Caroline was shocked when he told her of Manfred’s reappearance, and she gasped when he described his plummet from the train. She wrinkled her immaculate brow at the details of the brigand encounter, but the near-fatal raft trip through the gorge only made her smile.

‘It wasn’t funny,’ he said stiffly. ‘Not at the time.’

‘It’s not that.’ Without looking at him, she patted him on the arm.

His heart was butter, and melted. ‘What is it then?’

‘I was wondering why you didn’t burst through a wall of flame, right at the end.’

‘You’ve lost me, I’m afraid.’

She ticked items off on her fingers. Aubrey had always loved her hands. Elegant, dextrous, beautiful. ‘You fell through the air, went into the bowels of the earth, then careered through water. Of the four elements, only fire was left. It was unlike you not to complete the set.’ She smiled a little. ‘Not all that funny, really.’

Maybe not, he thought, but I’ll listen to you for as long as you’ll let me. ‘Clever, though.’

‘Don’t be patronising,’ she said, but grinned. ‘I’ve warned you about that before.’

‘Sorry. You’re the last person I want to be patronising to.’

She held his gaze for a moment, then looked away. She began walking a little faster. Aubrey kept up and soon they were alongside Mrs Hepworth again. ‘And tomorrow, Aubrey,’ Caroline said, ‘are you free? I have some unfinished matters.’

‘Unfinished matters?’ Aubrey repeated, despite his intentions never to parrot her. Instead of listening, he’d been looking at how the light from the gaslamps caught her eyes, conscious of a special moment having passed. ‘Ah, yes. Of course. Happy to help.’

‘I hope you’ve made some progress in this area already.’

‘Certainly, certainly. We’ve been talking to ghost hunters.’

Caroline gave him a look that promised serious consequences if he didn’t fully explain this when they were alone. ‘That’s good.’

‘Ghost hunters?’ Mrs Hepworth said. ‘I thought they’d vanished years ago. What are you after them for, dear boy?’

‘Research,’ he said, grasping for an explanation that was true without going anywhere near the heart of the matter.

‘Research,’ she echoed. ‘How Lionel loved his research.’

She put a hand to her lips and Aubrey desperately sought for something to change the topic away from the late Professor Hepworth. ‘And this friend that you’re staying with,’ he said to Mrs Hepworth as they waited for an omnibus to roll past before they crossed the road. ‘You’ve known him for a long time?’

‘The baron? Absolutely ages. He spent some time in Albion years ago.’

‘Well travelled, is he?’ Aubrey asked, unable to stop himself from accumulating information. One never knew what would prove useful. Of course, sometimes it was a fine line between subtle intelligence-gathering and outright inquisitiveness...

‘He’s a man of the world. Rather too much of it, sometimes.’

‘He’s a businessman,’ Caroline said. ‘Extraordinarily rich.’

‘It’s a pity,’ Mrs Hepworth said. ‘He was a fine sculptor in his youth.’

The street began to trend upward. ‘Businessman.’ Aubrey’s curiosity gave him another nudge. ‘What sort of business?’

Mrs Hepworth laughed. ‘When you’re as rich as Siegfried, your business is just about everything. That’s why every Holmland government in the last thirty years has wanted him in their inner circle. He’s had enough of that sort of thing, apparently. Retired from the world of politics.’

Alarm bells started ringing so loud in Aubrey’s mind that he actually looked around for their source. ‘He’s a politician, too?’

‘Anyone who’s anyone in Holmland is either involved in politics, or wishes they were.’

‘Just like Albion, really,’ Caroline said, but for once Aubrey let this impish jibe slide right by.

‘This baron of yours...’

Another laugh. ‘He’s hardly mine, dear boy. Although, at one time – before I met your father, darling – we were close. Ah, here we are.’

It wasn’t the largest castle Aubrey had ever seen, but as a private residence it was definitely remarkable. Sited on the top of the hill and surrounded by a massive wall, it loomed over the Empire Gardens and the Istros River like a citadel.

‘It’s more comfortable than it looks,’ Mrs Hepworth said. ‘Siegfried’s given Caroline and I the east wing. He is most generous.’

Aubrey stared at the two square towers, the hundreds of windows. ‘Siegfried is your baron.’

‘Of course. Siggy is Baron von Grolman.’

Aubrey contained his shock by the novel method of imitating a stunned goldfish.

The Hepworths were staying with Hugo von Stralick’s mysterious mentor.

Twenty-one

The next morning, early, Aubrey and George stood in front of Baron von Grolman’s residence. In the daylight the edifice was even more impressive. Once, Aubrey thought, it must have dominated the whole area, squatting on top of the hill like a great beast. Even though housing had swallowed up most of the approaches to the castle, it was still the most prominent building in the area, almost a suburb in itself, tucked behind its thick stone walls. Aubrey imagined it having its own postal service, its own police force.

A bell at the gate was connected to a cunning speaking tube which Aubrey sensed, with interest, was magically enhanced. After being admitted, they set off toward the distant buildings. Crunching along well-kept, perfectly clean gravel, he kept wondering about the careless show of wealth behind the speaking tube. It was good, discreet magic – and that was costly. The Law of Attenuation, inverted? Or a novel application of the Law of Similarity? Mulling over the possibilities kept him busy during their trek along the driveway.

After mounting the broad stone steps, they were met at the front door by an officious fellow, somewhat more than a butler, somewhat less than a chamberlain. He looked down his impressive nose at them while they explained they’d arrived to meet Caroline Hepworth. He made them wait in the daunting entrance hall for an uncomfortable time, probably from some sense of necessity. It gave Aubrey and George a chance to become acquainted with each of the six suits of armour standing in the hall, and also to find out how uncomfortable antique Holmland furniture could be.