Colonial Madness (16 page)

Read Colonial Madness Online

Authors: Jo Whittemore

“It was me,” she said in a soft voice.

Everyone in the crowd was suddenly abuzz, especially Dylan.

“You thought I did those things? I'm offended!”

I glanced past Mom. “I'm so sorry, Dylan.”

“I would've come up with
much
better ways to destroy you,” he finished.

“And now I'm less sorry,” I said.

“This is quite the game changer,” said another voice.

I jumped in surprise, not realizing Eli was among the search party.

“We must away to the manor and discuss what needs be done,” he said.

“Will my family be disqualified?” asked Angel in a meek voice.

“That is not for me to decide,” said Eli. He motioned for the rest of us to follow. “Come. Judgment awaits.”

Mom kept her arm linked through mine the entire time, as if she were afraid I'd suddenly vanish, but she was also humming. I couldn't blame her. Now that we were reunited and the truth was out about the sabotage, it felt like we were that much closer to victory. Except . . .

I ground to a halt, jerking Mom back with me. “How did you do by yourself at the evening challenge?”

Mom snorted. “Really? You think we just kept on competing while two little girls were missing?”

“I'm not a little girl!” I said, pinching her side.

Mom kissed the top of my head. “You'll always be my little girl.”

Behind us, Angel didn't seem to be having quite the same bonding moment with her parents. I couldn't hear every word, but Uncle Deke and Aunt Zoe were definitely laying into her, and I heard “dangerous” used more than once. I supposed they were right. What if Mom had been allergic to lavender? Or one of us had been burned in the fuel incident?

I didn't envy Angel whatever came next. I had a feeling it involved a call to Great-Aunt Muriel's lawyer or perhaps even the police.

When we were in earshot of the manor, Eli waved to his
wife, who had emerged from hiding to pace the backyard. She stopped when she saw her husband and ducked her head into the house to yell to Caleb. Then she bustled toward us as fast as her lifted skirts would allow.

“Blessed be, you're all right!” She smiled at me, but when she turned to Angel with the same greeting, her smile wavered. She took in Angel's sullen expression and the irritated ones of Aunt Zoe and Uncle Deke.

“Eli, what has happened to this one?” she asked.

“We have a problem,” he told her.

Just then Caleb burst into view wearing a broad grin.

“Tori! You're safe!” He hugged me.

In front of everyone.

Including his parents.

The crowd's reactions were almost as explosive as they'd been for Angel, except Mom, who sighed and said, “Oh, Tori.”

“It appears I misspoke,” hissed Eli with venom in his voice. “We have
two
problems.”

He pulled Caleb away from me and pushed his son toward the servants' quarters. “Wait there. And enjoy every breath as if it were your last. Because it might be.”

“Please don't punish him!” I said. “It's my fault anything happened. I was the one who broke the rules.”

“Oh, I am well aware of that,” said Eli. “And you will suffer
the consequences.” He bowed his head and sighed. “I suppose it's too much to ask for honesty in this day and age. You seemed like good, decent children.”

It was mine and Angel's turns to bow our heads.

I didn't try to persuade Eli any further, and he didn't speak another word or even look at us as he led Angel and me and our parents into the house. His wife at least squeezed my arm reassuringly as we passed her.

Eli opened the door to a large study and finally spoke.

“Wait here while I contact the judge to decide your fate.”

Angel took one couch with her parents, while Mom and I took the other.

As soon as Eli closed the door, I faced Mom and began babbling, “I'm so sorry! I've doomed us to a life of poverty. We'll have to close the dress shop and live in a refrigerator box and use the fabric to make tiny curtains for the cutout windows and—”

Mom cupped my face in both hands. “Tori. It's okay. You're a good kid, but I can't expect you to be perfect all the time.”

I nodded and leaned forward with my arms around my knees, making myself as small as possible.

“Besides,” said Mom, “I knew you and Caleb were crushing
on each other, and I could've interfered at any time.”

“Could've?” I twisted to glance at her. “You made me sleep in the barn!”

From across the room, Aunt Zoe let out a tiny laugh that she quickly covered with a cough.

“And clearly that didn't work,” said Mom. “I should've done something more extreme. Like make you sleep in the footlocker with the chickens.”

“Chickens?” asked Uncle Deke. “You have chickens in your room?”

“Had,”
I corrected. “They met a grisly fate.”

“That's what all the squawking was!” Aunt Zoe elbowed him. “I told you they could sing better than that.”

“Hey!” Mom and I said at the same time, but by now we were all smiling, even Angel.

“I don't think they've ever heard our rendition of ‘Don't Stop Believin',” Mom said to me.

“You'll have to treat us to a performance one of these days,” said Uncle Deke.

The doorknob clicked, and we all stopped talking and sat up straight. Eli appeared, red faced and somber.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he said, “the judge would like to speak with you in person.”

“Right . . . right now?” asked Mom, raising an eyebrow.

Eli nodded. “Considering the severity of the situation, we thought it best. Is that acceptable?”

“It doesn't matter if they find it acceptable—it's my contest!” croaked a voice from somewhere behind him.

That voice.

Even though I'd only heard it a handful of times, it was unforgettable. And from the awestruck expressions on the faces of my family, I knew I was right.

Eli winced as a marble-headed cane smacked him in the arm.

“Step aside, you blundering buffoon! Or should I speak
through
you, like a ventriloquist working a dummy?”

A tiny white-haired woman tottered past him and fixed us all with her steely eyes.

“What's the matter?” asked Great-Aunt Muriel with a sly grin. “You all look like you've seen a ghost.”

Chapter Thirteen

E
li helped Great-Aunt Muriel into a chair and then stood against a wall with his arms crossed.

Great-Aunt Muriel's chin wobbled a bit, and her hands shook as she rested her cane in her lap. But her voice was hardened and forceful.

“You have all been staring at me with open mouths since I arrived. How many flies do you expect to catch?”

Almost in unison, everyone clamped their mouths shut. Except Aunt Zoe.

“Great-Aunt Muriel,” she said, taking a tiny step forward. “I'm sorry to point this out, but we thought . . .” She gestured
vaguely at Great-Aunt Muriel's fragile form. Then she turned to Uncle Deke.

“We received letters stating that you had passed away,” he supplied.

“I'm aware,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “I'm the one who sent them.”

“But why?” asked Mom.

Great-Aunt Muriel raised a white eyebrow. “If anyone in this room should be asking questions, do you really think it's you?” She raised her cane and pointed the tip of it at me. “You.” She swung the cane toward Angel. “And you. Come here.”

Angel made a tiny whimpering noise and stepped forward. I took a deep breath and did the same. Angel scooted as close to me as possible without actually melding her body with mine.

“That's sweet,” Great-Aunt Muriel said with a stony expression. “You sidle up to the one you betrayed. Is that why you sabotaged her? Because of your boundless respect?”

Angel's face crinkled, and she burst into tears.

Great-Aunt Muriel sighed and reached for a tissue box, holding it with one shaky hand. “My dear,” she said, “tears are for tragedies. And this is not one.”

Nevertheless, Angel kept crying and intermittently apologizing through a mixture of snot and waterworks. Great-Aunt Muriel just watched.

“Imagine,” she said, “if we could consider the consequences of our actions
before
we took them.” She turned to me. “Although I expect
you
already knew. You disobeyed the rules anyway. Why?” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you say ‘for love,' I will feed you to Charity. She bit another horse once and has developed a taste for flesh.”

I swallowed hard. “Because Caleb and I have so much in common. I don't really connect with anyone my age.”

Great-Aunt Muriel leaned forward on her cane. “What do you have in common?”

“We both like school, we both work hard, and . . .” I blushed, feeling guilty for what I was about to say. “We both come from families that are struggling with money, and we wish we could do more to help.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Eli shift against the wall. I chanced a glimpse back at Mom, who smiled with moist eyes.

“Also, we're not into all the trendy, popular stuff like most kids.”

Great-Aunt Muriel rolled her eyes. “People who follow trends are as preposterous as the trends themselves. I prefer you the way you are.”

A warm glow filled my chest. “Really? But you hardly know anything about me.”

“I know plenty,” she said. “I've been watching all of you throughout this contest.”

I gasped and snapped my fingers. “That was
your
video camera I found in the tree!”

She nodded. “I was afraid someone would figure that out, and luckily it was Elias.” She gave Eli an approving smile. “And he was quick and clever enough to distract the rest of you with a witch trial.”

Eli stood a little taller and prouder, and I couldn't help regarding him with more respect.

“To get back to the matter at hand,” said Great-Aunt Muriel, “Victoria,
you
possess a fiery determination that I admire. You were given several opportunities to cheat, yet you never did. Such integrity is rare in a world where people will do anything to get ahead.”

Angel cleared her throat and studied the carpet. “Like me.”

I was afraid Great-Aunt Muriel might scold her again, but instead she said, “Though I don't condone your acts of sabotage, Angel, they were clever, and managing to convince even adults to assume the wrong culprit was nothing short of genius.”

Great-Aunt Muriel curled a finger at Angel to beckon her closer. When Angel was within a foot of her chair, Great-Aunt Muriel winked at her.

“But I believe you will get further in life if you are truthful with your parents . . . and yourself. Do you understand?”

Angel nodded, tears filling her eyes again. She opened her mouth to speak, but Great-Aunt Muriel held up a hand.

“You have apologized enough to cover yourself and every prisoner in Sing Sing. I simply ask for honesty.”

Mom, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke. “If it's not too much to ask, maybe
we
could get a little honesty now?”

Great-Aunt Muriel leaned around Angel and me to look at Mom.

“I see where your daughter gets her doggedness. Very well. Elias, will you fetch us some tea and biscuits from my private collection? I find they go best with jaw-dropping revelations.” She gestured to the rest of us. “Sit if you wish to stay. My neck has enough difficulty supporting my head without having to stare up at you behemoths.”

“You make it sound like you're a newborn baby,” I said, settling on the carpet in front of her chair.

She smirked. “I suppose that's an accurate analogy. My muscles are underdeveloped, my motor skills are poor, and soon I'll be eating soft foods and muttering incomprehensible things.”

“You make old age sound like a dream,” said Mom.

Everyone laughed.

“There are benefits, to be certain,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “For example, I can speak however I choose, and people simply attribute it to old age instead of my personality.”

Everyone laughed again.

I nudged Mom, who was sitting beside me. “We should try telling people you're old next time you flip out at a buffet.”


Why
can't I put a slice of cake back and get one with more frosting?” she demanded.

“You
can
 . . . if you haven't taken a bite out of it yet!” I said.

Great-Aunt Muriel watched us, fascinated. “How the two of you are still alive and not missing limbs is a mystery.”

Eli returned, wheeling a cart laden with a tea set. Felicity followed with a platter containing cookies and two items wrapped in paper.

“I thought the girls might be a little hungry after their wilderness adventure,” she said, handing a package to each of us. I reached for mine, and she held on to it for a second, meeting my eye before letting go. Everyone else was too focused on the tea service to notice.

“Thank you,” I said, opening the sandwich wrapper. When I lifted out a half, I noticed something scribbled on the paper
underneath. I quickly tilted it so nobody else could see, stuffing one part of the sandwich in my mouth and lifting out the other.

Tori, I'm really, really, REALLY, sorry. I hope you aren't in too much trouble. If you don't hate me, please meet me at the barn so I can apologize in person.

Caleb

Mom nudged me. “What's so fascinating about that sandwich?”

I was about to say, “Nothing.” But then I realized she deserved better than that. So I held the wrapper where she could see.

Mom's eyes flitted from side to side as she read. Then they closed entirely.

“Tori,” she said with a sigh.

“I didn't say I was going,” I whispered.

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