“I said this discussion is over!” Madam Scargill snapped, and Ian knew he dared not say one more word.
With an irritated groan he marched past Madam Scargill, his chin down, and sneered in the direction of Searle, who was smiling gleefully back at him the moment Madam Scargill’s head was turned. Theo came alongside Ian and the two entered the keep. Searle was right behind them, cackling with glee at the trouble he’d caused them.
Fortunately, Searle’s dorm room was located in the wing opposite Ian’s, near a second set of stairs just off the large parlor and above the kitchen. Once they went through the main entrance, Searle turned left and Ian and Theo went straight ahead and upstairs. Ian glared over the railing at Searle’s departing form, but he felt thankful that at least he didn’t have to sleep in the same room as the nasty git.
“He’ll get his,” Theo whispered, and Ian could only hope so.
The pair crested the landing and walked only partway down the hall, to the first door on the right, which was where Ian’s bed was. He paused as he was about to enter and said to Theo, “You best clean and get some iodine on that hand. It’s a nasty cut.”
Theo nodded. “That’s where I was headed,” she said reassuringly.
“And, Theo,” he said, thinking she might at least be able to warn someone about the creature that had nearly killed them, “after you tend to your hand, I think you should go to Madam Dimbleby and tell her about the beast. But don’t let on that we saw it in the tunnel. Just tell her we were out near the cliffs and some wild, wolflike thing chased after us and maybe word should be sent for someone with a rifle to do something about it.”
Theo nodded. “Of course,” she said, and Ian knew she was relieved that he’d decided to let her tell someone. “I won’t see you for supper, but perhaps I can sneak a snack up to you later?” she offered.
“That’d be smashing. Thanks, Theo,” he said, and he was glad to have her on his side.
Theo smiled, gave him a gentle pat on the back, then continued down the hallway to the water closet to tend to her hand. Meanwhile, Ian turned into his room and shut the door behind him with a weary sigh. He hated missing supper, and he vowed to get even with Searle someday soon.
He pushed away from the door and trudged down the long row of beds, his stomach growling angrily now that it knew it would go without a good meal until morning. He shared the long room with six other boys ranging in age from four to thirteen, Ian’s age. Many of them he’d known since they’d first arrived at the keep, which for a few, like Ian, was shortly after birth.
Over the years, a scant portion of the boys he’d shared this room with had been adopted. Of the very few would-be parents who came to Delphi Keep, most were looking for babies no older than a few months. So boys who arrived at the keep as mere babes had a small window of opportunity, and once they passed the age of two, their chances of finding homes with adoptive parents were slim to none.
Ian had long ago accepted this reality, and when he thought about his future, it didn’t include a mother and a father. Instead, he dreamed of setting out at sixteen, when most orphans were required to leave the keep, and immediately heading off in search of hidden treasure. He was about three years older than Theo, so his aim was to secure enough money by the time he was nineteen and she was sixteen to supply her with a home of their very own and the opportunity for a higher education.
Beyond that he didn’t overly consider. His one goal was to take care of his adopted sister for as long as she needed him. This was of course fueled by the seldom-discussed fact that many of the young men and women who left the keep fell into poverty and often languished out in the world. It was a difficult thing to survive in a land where you had no family, no access to higher education, and no one to support you while you attempted to learn a trade. And Ian knew that the young ladies who left the keep were even more challenged than their male counterparts, because being orphans of possibly questionable lineage made it difficult to find men willing to marry them and offer a bit of security.
Ian’s sense of urgency about this was why he was so intent on honing his exploration skills while he was still young and why he read any book he could lay his hands on about treasure hunting, exploration, and lands far away that might hold a bit of fortune. The trouble he got into for disobeying rules to pursue this hobby was a price he was willing to pay if it eventually led him to the security he’d need for both himself and Theo.
Ian knew full well that for now the keep was a very good place for a boy like him to call home. He’d heard stories from children who’d been transferred there from other orphanages, many run by nuns with few nurturing skills and many in some of the poorest parts of England, where the youngsters were barely given enough food to eat and often slept three or four to a bed.
Yes, the orphans at Delphi Keep were quite fortunate as orphans went. Their patriarch, the Earl of Kent, was the one to thank. The earl often said that he wanted to provide the children with proper living conditions and a good primary education. After all, he reasoned, it wasn’t their fault they were orphans. And the earl figured that if there was blame to lay on them, then he’d be just as guilty, because he’d been adopted by his own parents, the former Earl and Duchess of Kent. He recognized how lucky he’d been to find such a wonderful home, and everyone knew that the earl was still haunted by memories of the deplorable conditions of the orphanage he’d lived in.
That was why when he’d inherited Castle Dover and Delphi Keep, he’d had the old abandoned building turned into a well-run, clean, and completely furnished refuge for orphans. He kept the facility fully staffed—several servants from Castle Dover came each week to help the headmistresses with food preparation, laundry, cleaning, and other chores—so that he could make sure every bed was occupied with well-kept children and the keep was always running at full capacity.
Ian knew that the bed next to him, where Charlie Dalton had slept for seven years, until he’d turned sixteen and left the keep the week before, would soon be filled, and Ian wondered whom the earl would bring to them. He also knew that he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, because the earl never left a bed at the keep empty for more than a week or two, seeing it as his duty to rescue those unfortunate children he found in deplorable conditions.
Ian had always held a genuine adoration for the earl, who was a very likeable fellow indeed, and he eagerly looked forward to each of the earl’s visits. Castle Dover was the earl’s summer residence, and the children were often treated to his presence during the warm months of June, July, and August, then again just before Christmas, when the earl would bring them each a special gift, and at Easter, when their patriarch would arrange a massive egg hunt out on the keep’s lawn.
As Ian took a seat on his bed and thought fondly of the earl, he couldn’t help wondering what the earl would have said that day if he’d come across Ian and Searle wrestling around in the dirt. He doubted that the earl would have been pleased, and this made Ian deeply regret his actions.
His melancholy was disrupted, however, when out in the hallway he heard the clomp of footsteps pass his room. He knew that those heavy shoes belonged to Madam Scargill, and a crooked smile formed on his lips as he jumped off his bed and hurried quietly to the door. Opening it just a fraction, he looked out and saw Madam Scargill walking toward her room with his box tucked under her arm. Ian knew from having several of his homemade slingshots confiscated that Madam would take the box to her room and lock it up tightly, never to be seen again. His plan was to wait for her to lock up his treasure box, then find a way to sneak into her bedroom and retrieve it while everyone was at dinner.
Madam’s bedroom was located at the end of the long hallway, next to the water closet, and Ian peered out at her as she clomped her way down the corridor and paused just outside her door, fiddling with a set of keys. At that moment, however, the door to the water closet opened, and out stepped Theo, her hand tightly wrapped in white gauze.
“Theo,” Madam Scargill said,
moving her attention away from the keys to focus on the girl. “What has happened to your hand?”
Ian held his breath as Theo replied, “Oh, it’s nothing, ma’am.” And she tucked her injured hand behind her back.
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me,” said Madam Scargill with a frown.
“I fell while Ian and I were out walking the cliffs, is all,” Theo said casually. “Really, it’s just a scratch.”
“Let me see it,” Madam Scargill demanded. Theo looked reluctant as she extended her hand. Madam Scargill tucked Ian’s silver box under her arm and unwrapped Theo’s hand. “That’s a nasty gash, young lady,” she said. “Did you put iodine on the wound?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Theo said.
“Well then,” Madam Scargill said, winding the bandage up, “I shall want to keep an eye on it for the next few days. We should soak it tonight in salt water to make sure an infection doesn’t set in.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Theo repeated with a small curtsy as she moved around Madam Scargill to hurry down the hallway.
Madam Scargill turned away as if to carry on about the business of hiding the box in her room, but Ian saw her pause again. “Miss Fields?” she called over her shoulder.
Theo stopped short and turned to Madam Scargill. “Ma’am?”
“Did Ian truly find this box out along the cliffs?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ian found the box.” Ian smiled at the way Theo ducked the question of where he’d found it. “Searle didn’t even know about it until Landis gave it to you,” she added. Behind the door Ian beamed Theo a smile of gratitude.
“Then what were the boys arguing about?” asked Madam Scargill.
“Searle threw a rock and it hit me on the head. Ian was just trying to protect me.”
Madam Scargill scowled. “Come here,” she said to Theo, who obediently walked back to her. “Where did the rock strike you?”
“Here,” Theo said, and pointed to the right side of her head.
Madam Scargill parted Theo’s hair and looked at her scalp. Another deep frown formed on her face. “You’ve got a good lump there,” she murmured. “Go downstairs and chip some ice off the ice block to put on that. I shall go have a chat with Searle about why he will not only go without dinner this evening, but breakfast tomorrow morning and why he will be doing all of your chores for a week. And I’ll make sure he apologizes to you as well for his abominable behavior—throwing rocks at a girl indeed!”
“So you’ll give the box back to Ian?” Theo said hopefully, but even as she asked it, Ian was shaking his head behind the door. He’d been under Madam Scargill’s care a little longer than Theo and knew what her answer—and her reasoning—would be.
“I’m afraid not,” Madam Scargill said with a sigh. “Searle will have to admit his lie first.”
“But you believe me that Ian found it, right, ma’am?” Theo insisted.
Madam Scargill opened the door to her room and paused in the doorway. “Yes, Theo, I believe you. But I gave the terms of returning this box to the rightful owner in front of all the other children out in the yard, and I must abide by that rule. Remember, without rules, all we have is anarchy.”
Ian mouthed Madam Scargill’s favorite saying. “And you know what happens when anarchy rules?” she asked.
“Chaos quickly follows,” Theo said obediently. She was also all too familiar with Madam Scargill’s favorite lecture on rules and their purpose in keeping the world free from chaos.
Ian sighed and very gently closed the door. He’d known all along that Madam Scargill would not give up the box so easily. He felt deeply that the headmistress had never taken much of a liking to him, but she’d always seemed to have a soft spot for Theo. And Theo had convinced her that the box wasn’t Searle’s. That was a small victory at least.
Ian went back to his bed and waited. Sure enough, a few minutes later the clomping in the hallway returned and passed by his room. He waited several more moments before taking off his shoes and tiptoeing to the door. Very carefully he pulled it open and peered out. No one was around.
Quickly he slipped into the corridor, his back pressed firmly against the wall. From downstairs he faintly heard the chime of the dinner bell, followed by the pounding of many feet as children raced inside for supper.
He crossed to the water closet and pulled the door closed, putting the Occupied sign out on the door handle. If anyone came upstairs and saw him standing there, they would think he was waiting his turn for the lavatory. He watched the hallway anxiously for several seconds, his attention focused on the stairs.
Sometimes one or two of the children went up to the second story to use the loo before sitting down to eat, and if that happened, he wanted to make sure it appeared that there was a line, which might cause them to go back down-stairs and use one of the other two water closets on the main floor.
But no one came up the stairs, and soon the sounds of pounding feet and excited chatter were replaced by the scrape of chairs being pulled out and the clank of cutlery on china. Ian let go of the breath he’d been holding and edged nearer to Madam Scargill’s bedroom door. He tried the handle. It was locked tight. He smiled as he pulled the small strip of aluminum he’d gotten off the top of a sardine can, which he carried for just such an emergency, out of his pocket and wiggled it between the doorframe and the door. He heard a faint click and the door popped open.
Ian was about to step into the room when he heard a hissing that stopped him cold and made his heart race. Turning his head, he saw Theo, looking very displeased, at the top of the landing with a plate in her hand. Ian felt the tension leave him immediately and he raised a finger to his lips.
Theo glanced over her shoulder, then hurried down the hallway to him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded in a whisper.
“Retrieving the box,” he said simply.
“Ian, you can’t go in there!”
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the plate of food in Theo’s hand.
“It’s your supper, and don’t change the subject,” she said, her brows crossed in anger.
“But I thought I wasn’t having supper.”
“Madam Dimbleby said that no one should go without supper on his birthday, so she prepared a plate for you behind Madam Scargill’s back and sent me up here to give it to you. She advised that you hide the plate until morning, then sneak it back down before lessons.”
Ian smiled. He’d always liked Madam Dimbleby. “Did you tell her about the beast?”
Theo’s scowl turned to a worried look. “Yes, but she seems to think we came across a wild dog. She said she’d tell Landis to keep a lookout, but I don’t think she was overly concerned.”
Ian sighed. “At least you tried,” he said. “Everyone’s inside for the night, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about for the time being. I’ll have a talk with her tomorrow morning and see if I can’t get her to take the beast more seriously.”
“Would you?” Theo said, and Ian could tell that she felt she’d failed in her mission.
“Of course,” he said with a grin as he ruffled her blond hair. “Now, keep watch while I get the box. If anyone comes up the stairs, cough, and tell them you’re waiting for the loo.” And without another word he snuck into Madam Scargill’s room and pulled the door closed behind him.
Ian paused just long enough to catch his breath. He had a reputation for nerves of steel, and truth be told, he did get a thrill from tempting fate. He rarely got caught, which was why he was encouraged to try ever more daring stunts. Entering Madam Scargill’s room was definitely risky, but he knew that Searle would never admit that the box wasn’t his; therefore, Ian would most likely never see it again unless he stole it back.
He gazed about the room, hoping the box wouldn’t be out in the open. If it was, then Madam Scargill would surely notice it missing. He sighed with relief when his cursory look around uncovered no sign of it.
Madam Scargill delighted in confiscating things; ma
ny a slingshot, whistle, set of jacks, and popgun had ended up in her possession. Ian figured that she had some sort of hiding place for all these items. And he reasoned that since she’d been the headmistress here for the past twenty years, her hiding place would be chock-full of treasures. If he was successful in taking the box back, it would hardly be missed among all the other trinkets and toys.
He began to pull open the drawers of Madam Scargill’s dresser, but only her clothing stared back at him. Next he walked over to her bed, got down on all fours, and lifted the bed skirt to look underneath. Nothing was stored there. He stood up and looked around the room, which was sparsely decorated, and wondered where on earth such a cache of confiscated things might be. His eye fell on her closet and he quickly tiptoed over to the door.
Pulling it open, he smiled happily. There on the floor was a large trunk, and Ian’s gut told him the silver box was inside. Lifting the lid, he found it right away and was about to pull it free and head out of the room when he heard a loud series of coughs coming from the hallway.
Quickly he snatched the box and shoved it under his shirt, then closed the trunk lid and hurried toward the bedroom door. From the hallway he heard a voice ask, “Why, Theo, what are you doing upstairs again away from the table?”
Ian stopped in his tracks. It was Madam Scargill. He was a dead man. “I’m waiting for the loo, ma’am,” he heard Theo reply.
“Oh?” Madam Scargill said. “Who’s in there?”
“Ian,” Theo said. “I believe he’s feeling a bit under the weather.”
“Really?” Madam said. Ian then heard knocking on the loo door. “Ian?” the headmistress called. “Are you all right in there?”
Ian looked about the bedroom in a state of panic. He couldn’t answer Madam Scargill. She would know he wasn’t in the lavatory and quickly realize he was in her locked bedroom. “He’s fine,” he heard Theo say. “He’s just embarrassed by his bout of diarrhea.”
Ian covered his face with his hands and willed Theo to stop talking. Madam Scargill knocked again. “I should like to know that he is well enough to answer,” said Madam.