had never learnt a thing about men. This was a terrible mistake !"
He found his voice and some vestige of his mind. "Yes,
it was," he said.
He collected his famous composure and helped her out of
the carriage.
The perfect gentleman, as always.
"Good-bye," he said.
She hurried away without answering. In the next instant,
she'd vanished into the night.
He swore once, under his breath, then set himself to
gathering the shattered pieces of what used to be his perfectly
regulated world.
Chapter 6
Friday 5 October
TO AVOID FURTHER INVOLVING THE UNDER-footman in the
secret, Peregrine had made a post office of sorts by prying loose
some bricks near the back garden gate. There either Olivia or an
accomplice deposited her letters and collected Peregrine's. Though
she was a girl, she moved about London far more freely than Peregrine
did.
Unlike him, she did not have servants watching her
constantly. She made any number of detours to and from school, none
of which she remembered to mention to her mother, and all of which
horrified and fascinated him.
He squeezed into the shrubbery, where he would not be
seen, and opened the letter.
Queen Square
Thursday 4 October
My Lord,
Farewell!
The Time has come for me to Depart upon my Quest.
"No," Peregrine said. " No ."
He had written two long letters to
her, explaining what was wrong with her Idea about finding Edmund
DeLucey's treasure. First and foremost, young ladies—and she was a lady
by birth, and must never forget this—did not set off on jaunts
unaccompanied. Second, she must consider the grief she would cause
her mother, who was an agreeable, sensible, and intelligent parent,
unlike some. He had written third, fourth, fifth, and sixth points,
too—a complete waste of ink.
"I might as well have written to the head of Young
Memnon," Peregrine muttered.
Be assured, sir, that I have read
and thought about Every Word you
have written to me. However , Matters
Have Reached a Crisis. We moved to Queen Square on Monday. Our new Lodgings are more than
comfortable, and I for one am glad to put a distance between my home
and St. Sepulchre's Workhouse. Yet Mama grows more Unhappy every day. I fear she is
Sickening, the Victim of a Wasting
Disease. She pretends to eat and sleep,
but it is all a Sham, for she grows pale and thin. I am glad Papa is not alive to see it,
because he would be Heartsick.
Even you must agree that I have Not a Moment To Lose but must set out AT
ONCE. Rest assured that I have
taken your words To Heart and shall not make this Journey Alone. Sir Olivia travels with her
Trusty Squire, Nat Diggerby. His uncle drives a cart to market on
Mondays and Fridays. We have arranged to meet him tomorrow at the
Hyde Park Corner Tollgate. He will take us as far as Hounslow. A Wise
Plan, you must agree .
"No, I don't, you idiot girl,"
Peregrine said. "What becomes of you after Hounslow—if you
get that far? Do you never stop to think that your Squire Diggerby might be taking you to his 'uncle' the pimp or his 'aunt'
the brothel keeper?"
Peregrine could hardly believe she was so naive, given
how much else she knew. He supposed the deficiency was on account of
never having attended public school, where boys learned, along with
Greek and Latin, all they needed to know about pimps, bawds, and
prostitutes.
He hadn't time to fill in the gap in
her education. The impulsive creature was leaving today .
He had to stop her.
BATHSHEBA GAVE UP waiting for Lord Lisle after half an
hour. Evidently she'd misunderstood his schedule. She'd thought he'd
said he was leaving on Saturday for Scotland. He must have said
Friday, and she had only half-listened, her mind elsewhere.
She could not recall whether he'd said good-bye. But why
should a boy of thirteen think it necessary to take any special leave
of his drawing teacher? His uncle had taken polite leave already, a
few days after their last encounter. His secretary had written a
courteous thank-you letter, enclosing payment
He found his voice and some vestige of his mind. "Yes,
it was," he said.
He collected his famous composure and helped her out of
the carriage.
The perfect gentleman, as always.
"Good-bye," he said.
She hurried away without answering. In the next instant,
she'd vanished into the night.
He swore once, under his breath, then set himself to
gathering the shattered pieces of what used to be his perfectly
regulated world.
Chapter 6
Friday 5 October
TO AVOID FURTHER INVOLVING THE UNDER-footman in the
secret, Peregrine had made a post office of sorts by prying loose
some bricks near the back garden gate. There either Olivia or an
accomplice deposited her letters and collected Peregrine's. Though
she was a girl, she moved about London far more freely than Peregrine
did.
Unlike him, she did not have servants watching her
constantly. She made any number of detours to and from school, none
of which she remembered to mention to her mother, and all of which
horrified and fascinated him.
He squeezed into the shrubbery, where he would not be
seen, and opened the letter.
Queen Square
Thursday 4 October
My Lord,
Farewell!
The Time has come for me to Depart upon my Quest.
"No," Peregrine said. " No ."
He had written two long letters to
her, explaining what was wrong with her Idea about finding Edmund
DeLucey's treasure. First and foremost, young ladies—and she was a lady
by birth, and must never forget this—did not set off on jaunts
unaccompanied. Second, she must consider the grief she would cause
her mother, who was an agreeable, sensible, and intelligent parent,
unlike some. He had written third, fourth, fifth, and sixth points,
too—a complete waste of ink.
"I might as well have written to the head of Young
Memnon," Peregrine muttered.
Be assured, sir, that I have read
and thought about Every Word you
have written to me. However , Matters
Have Reached a Crisis. We moved to Queen Square on Monday. Our new Lodgings are more than
comfortable, and I for one am glad to put a distance between my home
and St. Sepulchre's Workhouse. Yet Mama grows more Unhappy every day. I fear she is
Sickening, the Victim of a Wasting
Disease. She pretends to eat and sleep,
but it is all a Sham, for she grows pale and thin. I am glad Papa is not alive to see it,
because he would be Heartsick.
Even you must agree that I have Not a Moment To Lose but must set out AT
ONCE. Rest assured that I have
taken your words To Heart and shall not make this Journey Alone. Sir Olivia travels with her
Trusty Squire, Nat Diggerby. His uncle drives a cart to market on
Mondays and Fridays. We have arranged to meet him tomorrow at the
Hyde Park Corner Tollgate. He will take us as far as Hounslow. A Wise
Plan, you must agree .
"No, I don't, you idiot girl,"
Peregrine said. "What becomes of you after Hounslow—if you
get that far? Do you never stop to think that your Squire Diggerby might be taking you to his 'uncle' the pimp or his 'aunt'
the brothel keeper?"
Peregrine could hardly believe she was so naive, given
how much else she knew. He supposed the deficiency was on account of
never having attended public school, where boys learned, along with
Greek and Latin, all they needed to know about pimps, bawds, and
prostitutes.
He hadn't time to fill in the gap in
her education. The impulsive creature was leaving today .
He had to stop her.
BATHSHEBA GAVE UP waiting for Lord Lisle after half an
hour. Evidently she'd misunderstood his schedule. She'd thought he'd
said he was leaving on Saturday for Scotland. He must have said
Friday, and she had only half-listened, her mind elsewhere.
She could not recall whether he'd said good-bye. But why
should a boy of thirteen think it necessary to take any special leave
of his drawing teacher? His uncle had taken polite leave already, a
few days after their last encounter. His secretary had written a
courteous thank-you letter, enclosing payment
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