“I know, but when it comes to a new and amazingly effective plan, I’m afraid my mind is blank.”
“So is mine.” She gave a brave smile that masked her dreadfully churning stomach. “There’s only one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I wish I knew if Uncle Hordwell has been able to tell Giles he’s now on our side. If he hasn’t, Bodkin may go ahead with whatever he’s planning.”
“I’m sure Hordwell will have managed somehow.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She smiled sheepishly. “You think I’m worrying unnecessarily, don’t you?”
“Just a little. After all, Hordwell’s had plenty of time. Now then, let’s go down.” He went to extinguish the candles, then led her from the room.
Chapter 39
The fireworks were quite spectacular as they popped and sparkled to the music from the hotel balcony. Cries of delight echoed from the onlookers, whose faces glowed in the leaping light of the bonfire. Heat-blackened potatoes were already being raked from the pit beneath the sizzling roasting pig, and a small queue waited, appetites sharpened by the cold night air. Smoke drifted across the gardens, where several hundred ghostly jack-o’-lanterns flickered, and the bursts of light from the fireworks reflected in the fountains and cascades. The Halloween games were all well under way, to an accompaniment of uproarious laughter and shouting, and from the depths of the labyrinth came the expected shrieks and squeals. Many of those shrieks and squeals came from brownies, who were as numerous as humans.
The pony cart from Royal Crescent disgorged its load at the equestrian entrance, and Bodkin kept well to the bushes as he carried his pumpkin to a suitably secret spot in order to light it. Accompanied by Ragwort, he crouched in the shadows of a clump of bushes, looking all around for a sign of Polly or Dominic. There was a rustling next to them, and both brownies shrank away with squeaks of alarm, but it was only Caraway. “Hello,” she said.
“Caraway! You gave us quite a fright!” Ragwort said with relief.
“Can I help you?”
“There’s nothing to do, except find Miss Polly and Sir Dominic as quickly as possible,” Bodkin replied, returning his attention to the crowds.
“I’ll go now,” she offered.
They glanced at each other, and then Bodkin nodded. “All right, but be quick. It’s important.”
She slipped away again, and Bodkin looked at Ragwort. “She’s still interested in you, my friend.”
“I doubt it,” Ragwort replied heavily.
“Didn’t you see her sending that lady brownie away—the one who had the audacity to smile at you back at the mews?”
“Cinnamon? Did she really?”
“Most definitely.” Bodkin glanced up at the sky as crimson and gold rockets exploded against the velvet darkness. “Ragwort, you look for Miss Polly and Sir Dominic as well. I have to light the jack-o’-lantern. I’ll get a lighted twig from the bonfire.”
Before Ragwort could reply. Bodkin scrambled away and ran across the open grass toward the bonfire. Alone with the pumpkin, Ragwort was immediately uneasy. He half expected it to give an unearthly groan or roll itself against him. “Just behave yourself, right?” he muttered, getting up to look for Polly and Dominic. As he, too, ran away over the grass, the jack-o’-lantern gazed after him, as if biding its time.
Bodkin had reached the bonfire. Where were Polly and Dominic? And Hordwell and Lord Benjamin, come to that. The brownie scanned all the firelit faces, but didn’t see anyone he sought. Except.. . Georgiana and Lord Algernon were among the many couples dancing a
ländler.
The marquess’s face was as red as his costume, and perspiration stood out on his forehead. Even his devil’s horns seemed to droop, as if wilting before the flames. Everyone was conscious of the tremendous heat, and those gentlemen whose costumes permitted it had already dispensed with their coats or jackets. Suddenly it all became too much for Lord Algernon, and he stopped dancing. Georgiana had no sympathy; indeed she was very cross and walked away, the tail of her leopard skin swinging irritably to and fro. The marquess gazed unhappily after her, sighed, then made his way toward the refreshments to quench his thirst with several large glasses of iced lime cup.
Bodkin continued to observe Georgiana, and as he watched, she halted. Something had caught her attention on the far side of the bonfire. It was Polly, who had commenced the original plan by standing on her own, watching the bonfire. She was trying to look natural and unconcerned, but the brownie could see how nervous she was as she waited to see if Lord Benjamin would approach her in response to her note. As the
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came to an end, so did the fireworks. A final rocket soared into the night sky, sprinkling golden lights against the stars, then the moments seemed to hang before the jingle of morris bells and wheezy notes of a hurdy-gurdy announced the morris dancers. Everyone clapped in time as the gaudy hobbyhorse leaped all around, and the morris men showed off their slow, skipping steps.
Georgiana walked toward Polly, and Bodkin followed, momentarily forgetting his jack-o’-lantern. Polly didn’t sense her enemy’s approach. The heat from the bonfire was tremendous, and the morris music so hypnotic that she gave a start as Georgiana appeared at her side. “Why, good evening, Miss Peach.”
“Lady Georgiana.” Polly tried to sound composed, which under the circumstances wasn’t very easy.
“I’m surprised you’re still here in Bath. I thought that by now you would have taken yourself back to your rustic nest.”
Bodkin looked vengefully up at her. What a waspish tongue the creature had. The boggart in him was aroused, and his tail began to lash slowly but threateningly to and fro. He felt like jumping up and sinking his teeth into her fingers, which were temptingly close.
“Leave Bath? Why on earth should I do that?” Polly answered.
“We both know why, my dear,” Georgiana murmured.
Polly was all wide-eyed innocence. “Oh, I suppose you’re referring to Sir Dominic. Please do not concern yourself about me, for I wish you every joy and happiness.”
Georgiana was taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t be so surprised. Lady Georgiana, for I mean it. I only feel sorry for the poor marquess, who clearly worships the ground upon which you tread. His hopes must have been cruelly dashed. Actually, I’m truly glad we’ve had a chance to speak like this, because I wish to be your friend. After all, I now have every expectation of soon becoming your sister-in-law. Your dear brother has been most patient and understanding with me, and tonight I intend to make amends for my past stupidity.”
A mask settled over Georgiana’s face. “I’m sure Benjamin will be more than willing to meet you halfway. Miss Peach,” she murmured, glancing across the bonfire and perceiving Dominic’s gaze upon them. He’d been there for several minutes now, watching very closely. Something was going on, but what? As she looked, Dominic’s hem flicked a little oddly, as if a child had tugged it. He glanced down, seemed to listen for a moment, and then hurried away. Georgiana watched him disappear in the general direction of the equestrian entrance, and then she gave Polly a brief smile. “If you will forgive me, I’ve seen someone I wish to speak to,” she said, and slipped away to follow him.
Bodkin paused only to pick up a small glowing stick from the fire, and hurried after her. His tail was twirling almost to a blur, and he decided it was time for his bees to go to work. Pursing his lips, he gave the warbling whistle that would summon his friends from the beech tree. He was so attuned to them that he immediately heard the first stirrings of their battle buzz. He whistled again, and the buzz intensified to something that was almost a roar, then they swooped down to him in a long column. He pointed at Georgiana. “There is your target. Teach her a lesson!” he cried, and the column set off after her. Bodkin watched with delight, his tail revolving at such a rate that once again his rear end was almost lifted from the ground. “Chase her, boys! Chase her!” he yelled.
The bees were now loud enough for everyone to hear, and people began to glance around in puzzlement. Bees? At night? Then they saw the flying phalanx, and there were screams of alarm. Georgiana heard the angry buzzing and turned to look back. Her eyes widened with horror as she saw what was coming toward her. Realizing she was their target, she gave a screech like a scalded cat and ran for the royal pavilion, which offered the only likely shelter within easy reach. Etiquette and protocol were completely forgotten as she stumbled breathlessly into the royal presence and tried to hide behind Harry Dashingham. He had that very day been promoted to aide-de-camp to the duke, and was togged in his finest regimentals, but Georgiana seized his arm, spilling his glass of champagne all down his front. As he smothered a rather ungentlemanly curse, the bees swept into the tent. He staggered backward in alarm, knocking into several nearby gentlemen, who tumbled into others like dominoes. There was pandemonium as the bees zoomed around the tent, trying to catch Georgiana as she dashed from useless hiding place to useless hiding place. The duchess gave a squeal and collapsed in the duke’s arms, and courtiers scurried in every direction as the swarm twisted and turned on their quarry’s trail.
Georgiana was now quite hysterical. How could she escape?
Water!
That would save her. Seeing a large fountain about fifty yards away across a bowling green, she gathered her skirts and fled out of the tent, elbowing the duke aside so violently that he and the duchess tumbled ignominiously onto a sofa. Georgiana ran like a hare, with the bees only inches behind her, then she flung herself into the pool where the fountain splashed from a stone pedestal. She scrambled and splashed to get behind the silver curtain of falling water, then pressed herself against the pedestal. Thwarted, the bees buzzed angrily overhead, watching and waiting for the moment she dared to emerge. But Georgiana had no intention of emerging. If necessary she would stay there all night!
By now, the bees had caused consternation throughout the gardens. Several ladies swooned with shock, not the least of these being the unfortunate Duchess of York, who on coming around gave way to a fit of the vapors second to none. The duke was scarcely less shaken, for he wasn’t accustomed to being shoved roughly aside. It didn’t become his dignity! He sent a courtier to summon his carriage, and within minutes the royal cavalcade had quit the gardens at a canter that threatened to overturn each vehicle as it swept hectically into Great Pulteney Street.
Meanwhile, Bodkin had run back to his precious jack-o’-lantern. He found Dominic, Ragwort, and Caraway waiting for him, and made himself visible for Dominic’s sake. Dominic was about to hurry back to keep a watchful eye on Polly, but Bodkin prevented him. “Let Caraway go—she’ll be faster than you. Go on. Caraway. Miss Polly’s by the bonfire.” As Caraway dutifully hurried away again, Bodkin looked at Dominic. “Have you been told about the change of plan?”
“Yes. I wish I’d been told by the bonfire, so I could have removed Polly from all risk of Beddem,” Dominic replied a little crossly, for he’d given Polly his solemn word that she would be safe at all times. There had been no need for him to come here, but Caraway had said it was very urgent indeed.
Bodkin pressed his lips together and nodded. “We didn’t think,” he confessed. “Anyway, Caraway will bring her now. What do you think of the new plan?”
“It’s good—I approve.”
“All the Royal Crescent brownies are ready to help, and with so many we’ll easily overcome Lord Benjamin and strip him if necessary. But before we get to that, I intend to pursue him with my jack-o’-lantern.” Bodkin held the lighted stick to the candles in the pumpkin, and then stamped on the stick until it no longer smoked. As the candle flames grew stronger, and the terrible face shone in the darkness, the brownie rubbed his hands with anticipation. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy all this,” he declared.
But then Caraway ran breathlessly back. “Lord Benjamin has Miss Polly!” she cried.
Guilt and alarm seared through Dominic, and he tore off his robe and turban. “Which way have they gone?” he cried.
“Up the hill toward the canal!”
As Dominic ran to the rescue, Bodkin turned to Ragwort and Caraway. “Alert the other brownies, then go after Sir Dominic.
Miss Polly must be saved!” They nodded and hastened away. Bodkin then turned to his jack-o’-lantern. “Your moment has come, my laddo,” he said, making himself invisible once more. Then he heaved the pole onto his shoulder, and stepped from the bushes.
Still hysterical after the bees, a lady was being comforted by her gentleman on a bench beneath a leafy arbor about twenty yards away. She saw the giant jack-o’-lantern emerged into view, apparently moving magically on its own, and gave such a broadside of uncontrollable screams that her unfortunate companion didn’t know what to do. The lady’s hysteria attracted attention, others turned, saw the jack-o’-lantern, and scattered in the utmost panic as Halloween no longer seemed quite the time of fun it was meant to be. Bodkin paid them no heed as he set off after Dominic. Ragwort and Caraway had begun to collect the other brownies, who came from all directions to hurry behind Bodkin and the jack-o’-lantern. The only signs of their presence were the little indentations of their feet in the grass and their low, determined voices, which many took to be more bees.
The candles in the pumpkin flared and guttered, and the huge jack-o’-lantern could be seen quite clearly as it bobbed up through the gardens. The result was more mayhem than ever; indeed the elite of Bath was reduced to utter chaos. One half thought it was a trick that was too clever by far, the rest that it was a supernatural visitation. There were more screams, more vapors, as the remnants of Halloween frivolity collapsed. Fashionable witches, wizards, goblins, and devils dove for cover beneath handy bushes, or scuttled for sanctuary in the temple and sham castle; morris men scattered, bells jingling; and the hobbyhorse picked up its skirts to gallop after them.
Bodkin remembered his bees and whistled to them. As they abandoned the fountain to obey his commands, Georgiana put her head tentatively through the curtain of water. The first thing she saw was the giant jack-o’-lantern, and with a most unbecoming wail, she drew hastily back out of sight again.