An Impossible Impostor by Deanna Raybourn

Author:Deanna Raybourn [Raybourn, Deanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-02-14T22:00:00+00:00

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As soon as Stoker had prepared the thylacine, we made our good-byes and the household saw us off. Lady Hathaway and Anjali stood at her ladyship’s window, waving, while Mary brought her children to lisp an interminable farewell poem. Every time one of them forgot a line, she made them begin again until at last I could bear it no longer.

“What clever children!” I exclaimed, interrupting them with a bright smile. “Stoker, I think they deserve some of your excellent honey drops.”

His expression darkened. “This tin is the last of them,” he protested in a whisper.

“Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the general good,” I returned. I put out my hand for the tin. He rummaged in his pocket before handing over the candy with ill grace. I plucked a large piece out for each child, cramming it into their greedy mouths before Mary Hathaway could protest. Instantly, the gooey mess stuck their little teeth together, rendering them blessedly silent.

I handed the tin back to Stoker, who would have sulked except for the fact that a pair of strapping farmhands was just emerging from the Hall with his trophy. He supervised their handling of it as they secured the crate on the back of the carriage. He leapt up, clearly intending to ride thusly to the station at Shepton Parva, perched next to his beloved thylacine with the air of Achilles gloating over the still-warm body of Hector.

Before I could remonstrate with him, Effie emerged from the house carrying a large wooden box. She thrust it into my startled hands.

“The orrery,” she said, flushing.

Charles gave her a surprised look. “Why, Effie—” he began.

The expression on her face would have suited one of the lesser martyred saints. “I know it has to go, Charles. You are quite right. But I cannot bear to keep it if I am only going to lose it in the end.”

“Well, I think you might have it for another month or two,” he said kindly. “Lord Rosemorran may not even offer for it.”

“Then let him have the thing!” she burst out. “If I am not permitted to study, then Granfer’s instruments are a mockery. They should all be cleared away.” She flicked me a glance. “Good-bye, Miss Speedwell. I think you meant to be kind.”

I had not time to reply before she returned to the house, clearly on the verge of tears. Charles Hathaway looked a little embarrassed, but his embarrassment was tinged with relief.

“It seems she is benefiting from your helpful example, my dove,” he said to his wife.

Mary was too busy applying a damp handkerchief to her children’s faces to respond. We said our farewells and I clambered into the carriage, clutching the unwieldy box. The driver clicked his tongue at the horse and the conveyance lurched into motion. I turned to wave farewell at the assembled Hathaways, feeling as though we had just made a timely escape, but from what I could not say. Mary fussed over her children

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