THE FAIRY’S ANNOUNCEMENT was followed by an astonished silence.
Out of the corner of her eye Prunella saw Zacharias lean over to Henrietta, addressing her. Henrietta nodded and slipped away.
That was some comfort, for Henrietta would see to it that the building was secured and the guests sent home as quickly as possible. All that was left for Prunella was to attend to the new arrival.
The Duke of the Navel of the Seas did not seem to feel the least awkwardness. He swept an admiring look over the room, remarking that it was very handsome—almost fit to be compared with some of the lesser chambers of his Queen’s Palace. “I have always admired mortals’ ingenuity in making use of the dimensions perceptible to them. It is remarkable how much is done with so little!”
“I take it very kind in Her Majesty to send us a warning,” said Prunella, ignoring this. “But what is the danger that threatens us?”
“Oh, did I not say?” said the Duke. “It is us.”
Prunella stared. “You?”
“Her Glorious Majesty the Fairy Queen desired me to send you her best compliments,” said the Duke, “and explain that she means to kill all English magicians, burn your spell books and sack your miserable country. Her hunger for revenge will only be sated by the wholesale destruction of English thaumaturgy.”
He concluded this proclamation with another graceful bow. When no answer was immediately forthcoming, he said, “May I take a message back to my mistress, madam?”
One who was less familiar with fairy manners might have concluded from the Duke’s insouciant manner that he could not be serious. But as mistress of two familiars, Prunella was better acquainted with fairykind than most thaumaturges. She adjusted her grip on her staff, deriving some consolation from its solidity. She must not show any fear.
“I beg your pardon, sir, but there must be some mistake,” she said. “Why should the Queen wish to kill us?”
“Oh! It is no slight upon you,” said the Duke reassuringly. “Her Majesty desires the death of all kinds of people, some of the very first consideration. Of course, it is only natural you should have joined those ranks once you stole her Virtu.”
Prunella gaped. “The Fairy Queen accuses me of a theft of her virtue?”
“Do you deny it?”
“But I have never met the Queen in my life!” said Prunella. “Besides, I thought only gentlemen could deprive others of their virtue. Surely a lady only loses hers.”
Zacharias cleared his throat. “I believe His Excellency means that the Fairy Queen has lost an article of virtu.” He turned to the fairy. “Have I understood you, sir?”
“Lost!” sneered the Duke. “It has been stolen, as you know better than anyone! For myself, I blame the family,” he added. “They ought never to have allowed Robert of Threlfall to remain in Britain for so long. Too much exposure to mortals is liable to warp even the finest nature. And now we see the consequences—the scion of an ancient family forgetting himself so far as to rob Her Majesty!”
“You don’t mean Rollo is accused of stealing the Queen’s talisman?” said Prunella, astonished. “That can’t be. Rollo Threlfall has been visiting his relations in Fairy for the past fortnight, and is entirely taken up with agreeing with his elders and being scolded for listing to the left when he flies.”
The Duke raised his eyebrows. “Of course. But the Virtu was entrusted to his family’s safeguarding in Threlfall, as you must know.”
Prunella was about to protest that she had no idea of it, and no reason to have known, having never heard of the Virtu before that day. But then a memory floated to the surface of her mind.
Had not Rollo mentioned an amulet of the Fairy Queen’s, before he left for Threlfall? Perhaps it had been called the Virtu—Prunella could not now recall. Rollo had said the article was in the care of some uncle or other.
She flushed, but said, undeterred, “But that just goes to show how unlikely it is he should have stolen it. Why should Rollo have stolen an article that his family guards for the Fairy Queen? He has the greatest abhorrence of scenes. He would never risk the censure of his relations by such a step.”
“Ah!” said the Duke. “So he fears displeasing his friends, does he? You would call him biddable?”
“Rollo is the most amiable creature alive,” said Prunella. “He would not dream of stealing from anyone, much less the Queen.”
“Unless he was put up to it!” intoned the Duke. “Know, madam, that Her Majesty has seen all. She knows that Robert of Threlfall is merely a tool—a victim of the schemes of English thaumaturgy. His actions were not his alone, but directed by Britain!”
Prunella exchanged a look with Zacharias. His expression reflected all the dismay she felt. The Fairy Queen was infamously capricious and mistrustful; tales abounded of the once-favoured courtiers she had slaughtered upon suspicion of treachery, the wars she had launched against former allies for petty slights. And Britain was in no state to go to war with Fairy.
One war is bad enough! thought Prunella. If the Fairy Queen’s enmity was added to Bonaparte’s armies, the country would be altogether extinguished.
“So that is why you have come to us,” she said. “I can only deny the charge. Fairy is a valued ally of Britain, whom we would never risk offending by such a crime.
“And,” she added, “I cannot believe Rollo can have stolen the Queen’s talisman either! You cannot be acquainted with him, sir, or you would know how very unlikely it is that he should do anything of the sort.”
“On the contrary, I have met him before. A noble-looking beast, for all his folly.” The Duke shook his head sadly. “I have never seen such an exquisite hide! I advised the Queen to display it at court after his execution, but Her Majesty is so vexed that I should not think there will be enough left for a display.”
“Execution!” cried Zacharias. Prunella’s hand flew to her mouth.
“The Queen has not killed Rollo?” she said, horrified.
“Not yet,” said the Duke. “Her Majesty judged it best that punishment should be dealt at her banquet, in a week’s time.” He sighed. “The consumption of a Threlfall will supply some spectacle, at least, and by devouring him the Queen will take into herself all the magic he possesses. But without the Virtu the ceremony will not be half so effective as Her Majesty had planned.
“Come now, madam,” he added. “Cannot I persuade you to return the amulet? If you do so now, in a properly penitent spirit, the Queen may be moved to show you mercy. If not, I am afraid I shall be obliged to murder you all!”
He flung out his arms, then seemed to realise that the room had emptied out. Those guests who had not been put to flight by the appearance of a fairy bearing ominous warnings had departed the moment they understood the charges laid against Britain.
“Well, perhaps the Queen will be satisfied with the head of the Sorceress Royal alone,” said the Duke.
“Sir, I do not have the Virtu,” said Prunella. “And I wish you would explain why the Queen should suspect us of having conspired to steal it. We have no reason to wish to deprive her of a prized treasure, and every reason to desire to remain on good terms with the ruler of Fairy.”
“I wish I could explain to you the iniquity that lives in the heart of mortal man, but I confess it is beyond my own understanding,” said the Duke. “Perhaps you were jealous of Fairy’s splendour, or believed you might profit from aiding the Queen’s enemies. It is not for me to tell you what evil motives drove you. My duty is merely to recover the amulet—or deal out punishment.”
He shook back his sleeves. His hands glowed with a green light.
“I shall regret terminating the existence of the charming Mrs. Wythe,” he added, with a gallant bow. “But if I fail to return with either the Virtu or your carcass, the Queen will sentence me to unspeakable torments. You will appreciate that your death is much to be preferred to my own.”
Zacharias took an involuntary step towards the Duke, though he knew as well as Prunella that she was of all thaumaturges in England best-equipped to defend herself against a vengeful fairy. Prunella felt a stab of fear, but this only made her crosser than ever. She welcomed the hot rush of indignation, for it made it easier to be brave. She drew herself up, flinging back her head.
“Well, I never heard of such laziness in a Fairy courtier,” she said. “You need not think you will conceal your failure to do your duty, however. The Queen will hear about this!”
This was clearly not the response the Duke had expected. He was so taken aback that he lowered his hands, the green glow fading. “What do you mean? I was sent to kill you and I am about to do it.”
“Nonsense!” said Prunella snappishly. “If Her Majesty’s amulet has disappeared, it is your duty to recover it—you said so yourself. But I cannot see that you have made the least push to look for it. Instead you rampage about, hurling wild threats at the Queen’s allies. Why do not you undertake a proper search?”
“A search?”
“When I have mislaid my things, murder is not my first course of action,” said Prunella. “What I do is look for them—and quite often I find them!
“I don’t believe you will find this Virtu in Britain,” she added, “for we had nothing to do with the theft. But if you think you might, it is your duty to investigate. We have no secrets from our friends in Fairy. You are welcome to turn the kingdom out, and I hope you will accept my hospitality while you are it. This house has hosted many of your kin in the past.”
Her peremptory manner was having a salutary effect. The Duke was so nonplussed it did not seem to have occurred to him even to be offended at being harangued.
“You would like me to stay with you?” he said. “But I intend to kill you and all of your connections. Perhaps I did not make myself clear?”
“But that would not do anything to restore the Virtu to Her Majesty,” Prunella pointed out. “Surely it would be better for you to try to find the article? I should think having her treasure back would please Her Majesty better than our destruction.”
The Duke looked doubtful. “. . . Her Majesty finds nothing so cheering as a spot of indiscriminate slaughter.
“Yet,” he added, “there is something in what you say. The amulet must be found. Perhaps I will undertake a search after I have bedewed the soil of Britain with your blood . . .”
“Why, where is everybody?” cried a new voice. “Have they all gone? It is not even half past ten!”
Clarissa Midsomer stood at the door, as outraged as though it were a personal affront that the ball had concluded early. She blanched at the sight of the fairy.
Prunella glared at her old schoolfellow—Clarissa had always had an evil genius for making a nuisance of herself at the worst possible time. But then she saw the Duke’s face. He had fallen silent, looking thunderstruck.
“There you are, Miss Midsomer!” said Prunella, concealing her wonder. “I meant to ask after your mother. I heard she was taken ill and was obliged to depart. I hope she has recovered?”
“It was nothing,” said Clarissa. “My mother was only tired. I saw her home before returning.”
She had not taken her eyes off the Duke, and—what was even more extraordinary—the Duke seemed equally transfixed. He was gazing at the pendant hanging from the chain around Clarissa’s neck.
Perhaps it was no surprise that this should have drawn his attention. No other female in the room wore anything like it. The pendant seemed to belong far more to the alien splendour of Fairy than to English notions of elegance.
But the Duke seemed just as fascinated with Clarissa herself, for his eyes kept straying to her countenance. This struck Prunella as peculiar. She was not especially vain of her looks, but she knew she was accounted a remarkable beauty, whereas Clarissa was plain. If the Duke were to be struck with a sudden passion for anyone in the room, Clarissa Midsomer seemed an odd choice.
Prunella was not about to question the blessings of Providence, however. If Clarissa was capable of distracting the Duke from his murderous intentions, Prunella meant to make the most of it. She said to Clarissa:
“We have been honoured with a visit by an emissary of the Fairy Court, the Duke of the Navel of the Seas. I don’t suppose your brother has ever spoken of him to you?”
To the Duke, Prunella explained, “Miss Midsomer’s brother, Mr. Geoffrey Midsomer, has resided in Fairy as a guest of the Queen since his marriage to her niece Lorelei.”
“I am acquainted with the gentleman,” said the Duke, after a pause during which he seemed to have forgotten how to speak. He cleared his throat. “He never mentioned he had a sister!”
Under his rapt scrutiny, a pink flush began to creep over Clarissa’s face.
“Did you say, madam, that the Virtu is not in Britain?” said the Duke, turning to Prunella with reluctance. “You are confident of this?”
“I doubt there is any English magician who could rob Threlfall and survive,” said Prunella. “Threlfall’s caves are the closest-guarded in Fairy, as you know, sir.”
“And you have never seen the Virtu, I collect,” said the Duke. “You do not know what it looks like?”
“I have never seen it in my life,” said Prunella truthfully.
“It is not an object known to thaumaturgy,” added Zacharias. “But if you described it, sir, we could assist in your search.”
“There is no need for that,” said the Duke, with the air of one who had reached a decision. He bowed to Prunella. “You are in the right of it, madam. It is my duty to undertake a thorough search for the amulet. The delay may vex Her Majesty, but if I find the Virtu, that would compensate for all! After all, I could always kill you then and bear your head back to her as a token of my loyalty.”
“Quite,” said Prunella, contriving not to grimace.
“I shall be pleased to accept the offer of your hospitality,” said the Duke, apparently unconscious of having committed any failure in tact. “I have always had a great affection for Britain, and wished to know more of the country and its inhabitants.”
The Duke glanced again at Clarissa. Miss Midsomer cast her eyes down, her colour deepening. For once she looked far from cross.
“This,” said the Duke, “will be an ideal opportunity.”