Theodosia and the Serpents of Chaos-Theo 1 (23 page)

W
E BADE
H
ENRY GOODBYE
at Charing Cross Station and waited on the platform until his train pulled away. I realized I was going to miss the little beast. Either that or I had a bit of coal dust stuck in my eye.

Then Father clapped his hands together and said, "Now, Theodosia. Let's pay your grandmother a visit."

He always tries to make the prospect sound cheerful when both of us know full well it will be dreadful.

Grandmother lives in a very grand house over by St. James Park. It's the kind of house where all the chairs and sofas are covered with frilly covers and she has hundreds of flowery, breakable things crowding every surface imaginable. The whole house is wretchedly uncomfortable and you can't touch a single thing.

When we pulled up in front of the house, a footman came down to greet the cab and carry my bags. He lifted the suitcases and led us up the stairs to the front door, where Grandmother's butler, Beadles, waited for us. Beadles always looked as if he'd just smelled some really nasty fish and was trying to keep his nose as far away from it as possible. Which was really quite horrid because then, if one happened to look up, one could see straight up into his nostrils and practically count his nose hairs.

Wasn't he worried about going cross-eyed staring down his nose like that? I always did, whenever I tried it.

"Master Throckmorton, Mrs. Throckmorton, I shall tell Madam that you are here." He ignored me completely, but then, he always does. He stepped away, leaving us all waiting in the hallway as if we were on a business call. Why does Father put up with this, and what makes him think I am going to?

I heard the rustle of stiff silk over lots of rigid petticoats, then Grandmother Throckmorton was upon us. "Hello, Alistair." She greeted him first, offering up her old, wrinkly cheek for him to kiss.

"Hello, Mother. How are you?" Father asked after he'd given her a quick peck.

She sniffed. "As well as can be expected." She is very clever, that woman. She said it as if it were somehow Father's fault. I don't know how she does it, but it would be a worthwhile skill to learn.

"Henrietta." She nodded at Mother, but did not offer her a kiss. Lucky Mum, I thought. Then she directed that steely gaze and pinched mouth at me. "And what have we here? Ah, yes. Theodosia. My granddaughter." She sniffed again.

"Are you catching a cold, Grandmother?" I asked.

She drew back as if I had asked what color her garters were, then lifted her monocle from the chain at her neck and peered down at me. She was no doubt trying to see if I was being impudent, but I have spent many hours practicing my most innocent look.

"Hm," she said. "It is well and good that I shall be able to mold you for the next several weeks." Her fierce glare let me know I was in for a miserable time of it. Except, I wasn't. That uplifting secret lay in my heart like the most wonderful of gifts. But I pretended that she had won and looked demurely at the ground.

"Well," Father said, shuffling his feet like a schoolboy. "We really must be going. We've tons of packing to do and last-minute details to see to."

The coward!

Mother and Father gave me a quick kiss, then escaped out the front door. Grandmother Throckmorton and I were left standing in the hallway, staring at each other. I could hear Father whistling—
whistling,
I tell you—on his way down the front stairs.

***

I wasn't able to escape Grandmother Throckmorton until well after teatime. No sooner had Father and Mother left than she started in on me. She forced me over to the piano, wanting to hear how my scales were coming along. She quickly learned that they weren't. After wincing her way through my recital, she decided I needed music lessons every day while my parents were gone.

Shortly after that, a seamstress showed up and measured me every which way while Grandmother Throckmorton chose several new lacy, frilly frocks she wanted made up for me. Doesn't she realize how much lace itches?

She prattled on about dancing lessons and comportment (I already know
how
to carry myself, thank you very much!) and—horrors—the painstaking process of finding a new pudding-faced governess!

Then we had to take tea in her stuffy old drawing room, and she made me pour. And of course I didn't just pour, I spilled, too. How could I not when she sat there staring, waiting for me to mess up?

It wasn't my fault. It was those fancy chairs of hers. They are so stiff and slippery and my feet don't reach the ground. It's like trying to pour tea while perched on the end of a slide.

Anyway, because of my poor showing at tea, Grandmother decided I needed to take my dinner in my room until I was able to handle the tea to her satisfaction. What a relief.

Only twenty-two more hours till I can make my escape. Since I'll be asleep for many of them, I think I can make it.

I
WONDER IF
B
EADLES EVER SLEEPS
. I'm beginning to think not. I'm also beginning to suspect he has eyes in the back of his head. I could go nowhere in Grandmother Throckmorton's house without him turning up seconds later. Only the knowledge that I'd be escaping soon kept me from despair.

Now, if I could just get through luncheon...

Grandmother Throckmorton was waiting for me in the dining room. She watched me like a hawk while I took my seat (checking for
comportment,
she said). Soup was served, and I was certain it was a test, so I ate as carefully as I could without making any sipping noises. I only spilled one tiny little drop and she scowled as if I'd upped and put the soup tureen on my head. It was time to put an end to this charade.

"Grandmother, I don't feel so well."

She sniffed. "No doubt your poor temperament. I must say I'm not surprised. Well, take to your bed, then. I'll send someone up with a special tonic. You're to drink it all up. A nap wouldn't do you any harm either. You keep appalling hours for a child."

It was difficult not to gloat at how easily she'd stepped into my plan. I walked out of the room (quite meekly, I might add) and headed for my bedroom. Who should be lurking on the landing by my room but Beadles.

"Miss isn't feeling well?" His voice sounded polite enough, but you could tell he was sneering underneath it all.

"No, Beadles. I think I must have eaten some of that bad fish you always look like you've just smelled."

He frowned in puzzlement, and I used the opportunity to slip into my room with no more interrogations. Once I heard him head downstairs, I quietly locked my door.

I had packed my stowaway bag last night. Grabbing it, I went over to the window and looked down; there was no one about. I opened the window, then dropped my satchel to the ground, where it landed with a surprisingly loud thump.

I froze, waiting to see if the sound had drawn anyone's attention, but no one came to investigate. I went to the bed and pulled out all the holey woolen stockings I'd pilfered. Last night, while I was supposed to be asleep, I had tied all the stockings together, rather like a long rope. Now if it would only reach all the way down.

I crossed over to the window and slowly lowered it. It stopped about six feet from the ground. It would have to do.

Next, I tied my end of the woolen stocking rope to the leg of the wardrobe, double-checking that the knot was secure. I glanced at the dresser, where the note I'd left for Grandmother Throckmorton was propped against the mirror. Hopefully they wouldn't come looking for me too soon and I'd have enough of a head start.

Now there was nothing for it but to lower myself down as quickly as possible and hope no one spotted me.

As I sat on the ledge of the windowsill, I found it difficult to actually push off. I reminded myself that the stockings were firmly tied, and it wasn't really all that far down. Before I completely lost my nerve, I grabbed the rope with both hands and slipped off the ledge.

Dangling precariously, I used my feet to gently push away from the house so I wouldn't crash into anything. Slowly, with great concentration and quite a few hasty prayers, I lowered myself to the ground.

When I got to the end of the rope, it was much, much farther a drop to the ground than it had seemed from up above. My arms were quivering under the strain of holding my weight for so long, and there was no possible way I could haul myself back up.

I had to let go.

There was a long sickening second where the ground rushed up at me, then I hit it with a bone-jarring thud, my teeth clanking together. I sat stunned for a moment, then scrambled to my feet. I lifted my hand to my chest, checking to make sure the Heart of Egypt was still securely anchored around my neck. It was. Which meant...

I'd done it—I was free!

T
HE
R
OSETTA
M
ARU
WAS ENORMOUS
, nearly as big as the
Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse.
As I stood staring up at the ship, I saw her lifeboats way up on the very top deck. That was my destination.

It wasn't nearly as difficult to sneak onboard as you'd think. First of all, the docks are absolute bedlam and it's all anyone can do to keep track of themselves, let alone anybody else. I was in luck because there were several families traveling. I attached myself to the largest, noisiest one. I think there were seven children, maybe six. It was hard to tell. I trailed at their coattails as they followed their parents up the ramp. As soon as we'd cleared the boarding area, I scooted off to find myself a lifeboat.

And the ship had lifts—lifts! How grand was that? I made my way to one and punched the button to open the door.

The lift attendant did a bit of a double take, but I did my Lady Throckmorton bit, which worked. He took me to the uppermost deck. I waited till the lift's door had closed, then began working my way forward until I reached the railing.

The entire city of London spread out before me like an enormous map. I stopped to watch all the people moving about, as tiny as ants. The salty breeze picked up, sending a spray of drizzle smack into my face. I looked up at the sky, where clouds like big purple bruises were rolling together. I needed to find cover. And quickly.

I hurried to the lifeboats, giving a small squeak of dismay when I realized they were all up high, like cradles hanging out over the railing. How on earth was I to get up there?

Like a monkey, that's how. And I'd never be able to lug my bag up there. I'd have to find somewhere to stash it down here on the deck where no one would find it.

***

Well, getting into the lifeboat without taking an unplanned swim was quite a challenge, but I made it, safe and sound. It was a little colder than I thought it would be, but I decided to ignore the chill air and pretend I was quite cozy. It helped to think of it as a little cave I'd built for myself, like Henry and I used to do when we were younger. Thinking of Henry made me feel surprisingly lonely, so I pushed that thought aside. (I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.)