I didn’t see her, but Baine was going to see me in a moment. I ducked back into the lilacs, trying not to rustle any leaves, and nearly stepped on Princess Arjumand.
“Muir,” she said loudly. “Mrowr.”
Baine turned and looked straight at the lilacs, frowning.
“Mere,” Princess Arjumand said. Shhh, I said silently, putting my finger to my lips. She began rubbing up against my leg, meowing loudly. I stooped to pick her up and knocked against a dead branch. It snapped off, its brittle leaves rattling sharply.
Baine started toward the lilacs. I began thinking up excuses. A lost croquet ball? And what was I doing playing croquet by myself at nine o’clock in the morning? Sleepwalking? No, I was fully dressed. I looked longingly back at the gazebo, gauging the distance and time to the next rendezvous. Both too far. And, knowing Princess Arjumand, she’d saunter in at the last minute and cause another incongruity in the continuum. It would have to be a lost croquet ball.
“Mire,” Princess Arjumand said loudly, and Baine raised his arms to part the lilac bushes.
“Baine, come here immediately,” Tossie said from the towpath. “I wish to speak to you.”
“Yes, miss,” he said, and went over to where she was standing, dressed in ruffles, tucks, and lace, and holding her diary.
I took advantage of the distraction to scoop Princess Arjumand up and step farther into the depths of the lilacs. She snuggled against my chest and began purring loudly.
“Yes, miss?” Baine said.
“I insist that you apologize to me,” Tossie said imperiously. “You had no right to say what you did yesterday.”
“You are quite right,” Baine said solemnly. “It was not my place to express my opinions, even though they were solicited, and I do apologize for speaking as I did.”
“Meeee,” Princess Arjumand said. In listening, I had forgotten to keep petting her, and she put her paw gently on my hand. “Mooorre.”
Tossie looked round, distractedly, and I backed farther out of sight behind the bushes.
“Admit that it was a beautiful piece of art,” Tossie said.
There was a long pause, and then Baine said quietly, “As you wish, Miss Mering.”
Tossie’s cheeks flushed pink. “Not ‘as I wish.’ The Reverend Mr. Doult said it was…” There was a pause, “…‘an example of all that was best in modern art.’ I copied it down in my diary.”
“Yes, miss.”
Her cheeks went even pinker. “Are you daring to disagree with a man of the cloth?”
“No, miss.”
“My fiancé Mr. St. Trewes said it was extraordinary.”
“Yes, miss,” Baine said quietly. “Will that be all, miss?”
“No, it will not be all. I demand that you admit you were wrong about its being an atrocity and mawkishly sentimental.”
“As you wish, miss.”
“Not as I wish,” she said, stamping her foot. “Stop saying that.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Mr. St. Trewes and the Reverend Mr. Doult are gentlemen. How dare you contradict their opinions! You are only a common servant.”
“Yes, miss,” he said wearily.
“You should be dismissed for being insolent to your betters.”
There was another long pause, and then Baine said, “All the diary entries and dismissals in the world cannot change the truth. Galileo recanted under threat of torture, but that did not make the sun revolve round the earth. If you dismiss me, the vase will still be vulgar, I will still be right, and your taste will still be plebeian, no matter what you write in your diary.”
“Plebeian?” Tossie said, bright pink. “How dare you speak like that to your mistress? You are dismissed.” She pointed imperiously at the house. “Pack your things immediately.”
“Yes, miss,” Baine said. “E pur si muove.”
“What?” Tossie said, bright red with rage. “What did you say?”
“I said, now that you have dismissed me, I am no longer a member of the servant class and am therefore in a position to speak freely,” he said calmly.
“You are not in a position to speak to me at all,” Tossie said, raising her diary like a weapon. “Leave at once.”
“I dared to speak the truth to you because I felt you were deserving of it,” Baine said seriously. “I had only your best interests at heart, as I have always had. You have been blessed with great riches; not only with the riches of wealth, position, and beauty, but with a bright mind and a keen sensibility, as well as with a fine spirit. And yet you squander those riches on croquet and organdies and trumpery works of art. You have at your disposal a library of the great minds of the past, and yet you read the foolish novels of Charlotte Yonge and Edward Bulwer-Lytton. Given the opportunity to study science, you converse with conjurors wearing cheesecloth and phosphorescent paint. Confronted by the glories of Gothic architecture, you admire instead a cheap imitation of it, and confronted by the truth, you stamp your foot like a spoilt child and demand to be told fairy stories.”
It was quite a speech, and after it, I fully expected Tossie to hit him over the head with the diary and sweep off in a flurry of ruffles, but instead she said, “You think I have a bright mind?”
“I do. With study and discipline, you would be capable of marvelous things.”
From my mid-lilac vantage point, their faces were hidden from me, and I had a feeling seeing them was important. I moved over to the left to a thinner bush. And ran squarely into Finch. I nearly dropped Princess Arjumand. She yowled, and Finch yelped.
“Shh,” I said to both of them. “Finch, did you get the message I left at the Chattisbournes’?” I whispered.
“No, I’ve been in Oxford,” Finch said, beaming, “where, I’m delighted to say, my mission was a complete success.”
“Shh,” I whispered. “Keep your voice down. The butler and Tossie are having an argument.”
“An argument?” he said, pursing his lips. “A butler never argues with his employer.”
“Well, this one does,” I said.
Finch was rustling under the lilacs. “I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, coming up with a basket full of cabbages. “Where’s Miss Kindle? I need to speak with both of you.”
“What do you mean, ‘Where’s Miss Kindle?’ I thought you said you just came through from the lab.”
“I did,” he said.
“Then you must have seen her. She just went through.”
“To the laboratory?”
“Of course to the laboratory,” I said. “How long were you there before you came through?”
“An hour and a half,” Finch said. “We were discussing the next phase of my mission, but no one came through during that time.”
“Could she have come through without you noticing?” I said. “While you were having this discussion?”
“No, sir. We were standing in the net area, and Miss Warder has been keeping a very close watch on the console because of Carruthers.” He looked thoughtful. “Had you noticed any problem with the net?”
“Problem?” I said, forgetting we were supposed to keep our voices down. “We’ve been trying for the last five hours to get the bloody thing to open!”
“Shh,” Finch said, “keep your voice down,” but it scarcely mattered. Baine’s and Tossie’s voices had risen to shouting point.
“And don’t quote Tennyson at me!” Tossie said furiously.
“That was not Tennyson,” Baine shouted. “It was William Shakespeare, who is eminently quotable. ‘Think you a little din can daunt mine ears? Have I not heard great ordnance in the field and heaven’s artillery thunder in the skies?’ ”
“The net wouldn’t open?” Finch said.
“That’s what my message was about,” I said. “It wouldn’t open for either of us. Verity’d been trying since three o’clock this morning.” A thought struck me. “When did you go through from here?”
“At half past two. ”
“That was just before Verity tried,” I said. “How much slippage was there?”