Secrets at Sea (16 page)

From a small explosion of tulle between her ears, a train of point lace fully six inches long flowed down behind her. It was white lace, ivory with age—a snippet off Queen Victoria's own train from her long-ago wedding day.

At Beatrice's throat, hung from a length of dental floss, was a single pearl—one from Camilla's necklace that had escaped being restrung. Her wedding gown, ivory like her veil, was simple and girlish, and hiked at the rear to accommodate her tail. She has a pretty way of flailing it. And seven petticoats beneath, so she seemed to skim just above the pile of the carpet, like a floating doily. I ran up her dress myself, with the help of six or eight needle-mice of the palace staff.

Beatrice proceeded on the arm of Lamont, who had shore leave for the occasion. He sported a very tight wing collar and a small black bow tie that looked suspiciously like Cecil's. Being the man of the family, Lamont was to give Beatrice away. He was very much on his dignity. And he knew I was coming down the aisle right behind his unsightly tail.

I was naturally maid of honor. My bouquet was of three waxy begonias, pink to match my dress, which is right for my coloring. Behind me came Louise as bridesmaid, completing our party. We are of course neighbors now, Louise and I, as the Henslowe family's London house is nearby the palace, only a whisker away. Louise was in lavender, which is more Camilla's color than hers. But we looked nice.

It was a day beyond our wildest dreams, and my eyes grew misty as we approached the fender. Then there before us was the clergy-mouse, come directly from Westminster Abbey. He wore a purple silk stole, embroidered, around his neck and held the tiniest prayer book you ever saw. And spectacles, which put me in mind of Aunt Fannie Fenimore from our old life.

Beside him stood the groom. Ramrod straight upon his mighty haunches. Snowy white fur. Ruby eyes. Gorgeous whiskers. Nigel.

Yes, Nigel. Also on shore leave for the occasion. I couldn't talk her out of him. It had been love at first sight, but I had insisted on a palace wedding. I'd put my foot down. You do what you can.

Lamont was leading Beatrice up to Nigel now. I busied myself arranging her veil and her tail. As she handed me her violets, she goggled her eyes at me and wiggled her ears. You know Beatrice. Then she turned to Nigel, and her future.

The clergy-mouse adjusted his spectacles to begin: “Dearly beloved . . .”

And my mind spun backward to our old lives, on the far side of all the surging sea. A moment flashed before me like a glimpse from deep within a crystal ball. There was the ancient humped figure of Aunt Fannie Fenimore. Bald patches, spectacles, and all: Aunt Fannie upon her powder puff throne.

I remembered the day I'd gone to her through the hedge to learn about our futures. I recalled her extending both her old hands stretched wide. “This is how you hold on to your family,” she had said.

You hold them with open hands so they are free to find futures of their own. It's just that simple.

Before you knew it, Beatrice and Nigel were united in the bonds of matrimony, sealed with a kiss. And back up the aisle they proceeded. “' Ello, 'ello,” said Nigel, nodding to left and to right as Beatrice hung on his arm. From below the windows in the forecourt, the military band struck up “God Save the Queen.”

 

CAKE CRUMBS AND dancing followed. But the Duchess's dancing days were behind her. Palace servants seated her at the edge of the dance floor on a small silver ring box that belonged to Princess Louise. There she sat tapping time to the music with her matchstick.

The members of
The Nutcracker
chorus hummed “The Blue Danube” waltz, and Nigel and Beatrice took to the floor. It wasn't a proper ballroom floor. It was Persian carpet. But Nigel took Beatrice in his arms and stepped forward. She stepped back, and off they floated as all the mouse multitude pattered applause.

Then what do you suppose happened?

Out of nowhere appeared Lord Peter, Mouse Equerry. Only a whiff of bay rum aftershave, and there he was, bowing from the neck before the Duchess of Cheddar Gorge. Oh, those aristocratic ears! I never cease to marvel. If I am remembering correctly, he wore a silk cravat overflowing a grosgrain waistcoat from his London tailor. And a cutaway coat with tails. Two tails plus his own.

The Duchess's withered hand came up, and he kissed the air above it. She smiled up at him, showing her terrible teeth. Then she nodded in my direction.

And he was before me.

My heart skipped a beat. I buried my nose in my waxy begonias in a sudden fit of shyness. Under my fur I went pink as my dress.

But he waited until our eyes met. Then he spoke. “I hope you have saved this waltz for me, Miss Cranston. And many more besides.”

Then I was in his arms. Don't ask me how. I don't dance. I never had. When would I? But we were turning and turning in the waltz, swept away upon the beautiful blue Danube, while all the world watched and wondered.

You should have seen the look on Louise's face.

 

D
ESCRIBED BY
The Washington Post
as “America's best living author for young adults,” Richard Peck is the first children's book writer ever to have been awarded a National Humanities Medal. His extensive list of honors includes the Newbery Medal (for
A Year Down Yonder
), a Newbery Honor (for
A Long Way from Chicago
), the Edgar Award (for
Are You in the House Alone?
), the Scott O'Dell Award (for
The River Between Us
), the Christopher Medal (for
The Teacher's Funeral
), and the Margaret A. Edwards Award for lifetime achievement in young adult literature. He has twice been a finalist for the National Book Award. Mr. Peck lives in New York City.

Also by Richard Peck

Amanda/Miranda
Are You in the House Alone?
Bel-Air Bambi and the Mall Rats
Blossom Culp and the Sleep of Death
Close Enough to Touch
Don't Look and It Won't Hurt
The Dreadful Future of Blossom Culp
Dreamland Lake
Fair Weather
Father Figure
The Ghost Belonged to Me
Ghosts I Have Been
The Great Interactive Dream Machine
Here Lies the Librarian
The Last Safe Place on Earth
A Long Way from Chicago
Lost in Cyberspace
On the Wings of Heroes
Princess Ashley
Remembering the Good Times
Representing Super Doll
The River Between Us
A Season of Gifts
Secrets of the Shopping Mall
Strays Like Us
The Teacher's Funeral
Those Summer Girls I Never Met
Three-Quarters Dead
Through a Brief Darkness
Unfinished Portrait of Jessica
Voices After Midnight
A Year Down Yonder

 

Amanda/Miranda
London Holiday
New York Time
This Family of Women

 

Past Perfect, Present Tense

 

Monster Night at Grandma's House

 

Anonymously Yours
Invitations to the World