“Yes, my good chap,” the earl said, and promptly got into the front seat of the taxi.
Ian squished into the back with Theo, Carl, and the professor and soon they were off.
“You all right?” Theo whispered beside him when she caught Ian craning his neck to stare out the back window. He was still looking for the two strangers from the train.
“Fine,” he murmured, turning around again. He didn’t want to alarm Theo, especially when what he’d seen had probably been nothing but a coincidence of events out of context.
The trip to Señora Castillo’s house was long, as the heavy midafternoon traffic slowed their progress, but finally they seemed to clear the thickest part of the congestion, and long stretches of roadway paved with beautiful, lush green fields came into view. Soon afterward they entered a long private drive, which ended in a large three-story home.
Once the taxi came to rest in front of the double mahogany doors, Ian and his friends bounded out, anxious to do something other than sit. The driver was just as friendly at the end of their trip and helped them unload their bags, then tipped his hat when the earl paid him. Everyone hurried to claim their luggage, but before they had a chance to knock on the door, it opened and a short portly woman with red-apple cheeks and a kind smile was standing there, gazing happily at them. “At last you’re here!” she said with a small clap.
Ian hoped this was Señora Castillo, because he liked her immediately. The professor waddled forward and pulled off his hat, bobbing his head in earnest. “My apologies for being frightfully tardy, Señora Castillo. The train was late leaving Toulouse yesterday and that put us off schedule, I’m afraid.”
The elder woman tsked. “Pesky trains,” she said while the professor dipped his head to kiss her hand politely. Ian hid a smile when she blushed and fanned her delighted face. It seemed the señora was so happy to see her brother’s friend that she almost forgot the rest of the group was there.
Belatedly, the professor realized the others were standing about awkwardly and he hurried to make their acquaintances. “May I introduce you all to Señora Latisha Castillo, the gentle sister of my dear friend and esteemed colleague Sir Donovan Barnaby.”
At the mention of her brother, Señora Castillo’s smile faded just a bit. But as they all went forward to introduce themselves, her bright spirits returned and she welcomed them with a boisterous wave into her home. As they’d agreed before they’d left the keep, the earl was introduced as Mr. Nutley—the professor’s nephew—and Ian, Carl, and Theo were presented as the earl’s children, which Ian decided wasn’t far off the mark. “Come, come!” she sang, ushering them into her foyer.
Ian observed that even though the señora’s house was grand, there weren’t any servants about to collect their satchels and hats. But he soon discovered why when Señora Castillo flushed with embarrassment and hastily asked them to leave their bags near the stairs. “I’m terribly sorry to find myself short staffed for your visit. My manservant resigned nearly a fortnight ago, and I haven’t had the courage or the energy to interview for a replacement. Hiring qualified servants can be so taxing in Spain—especially for a foreigner. My husband, Ernesto, used to handle such things, you see. Since his passing, I’ve lost the gardener, the manservant, and my driver! I find the process of looking after the staff and this home quite overwhelming at times.”
The earl was quick to put Señora Castillo at ease. “Please do not worry over it, señora. We are perfectly capable of tending to our own things.”
Señora Castillo smiled gratefully. “At least I’ve managed to keep the cook,” she told them with a laugh.
And it was then that Ian was struck by the most delicious smell.
Carl—who was a true fan of all things delicious—whispered, “Gaw, blimey! I can’t wait to taste whatever that is!”
“Carl,” said Theo sternly, “remember your manners!”
Carl blushed and Ian ducked his chin to hide his smile. Although she was three years his and Carl’s junior, there was no doubt that Theo would be the first to reach adulthood. In fact, Ian often wondered if she hadn’t got there already.
Fortunately, no one else appeared to have heard their exchange, because Señora Castillo was talking with great haste, telling them all about how long it had been since she’d had visitors from her own country. “The last person to spend a holiday with me here in Madrid was my dear mother, but she’s passed now some ten years. And during this whole frightful time since the war began, it’s no wonder everyone’s kept away.
“So I shall take it as a hopeful sign that you were willing to come all this way, Professor Nutley, to spend some time in this beautiful city and look over Donovan’s old diaries.”
“We’re most grateful for your hospitality, Señora Castillo,” said the professor with a slight bow, which made their host blush again.
From just behind the flushing woman, there appeared a pencil-thin and very severe-looking servant in a long black dress and white starched apron. “Lunch will be ready very soon, señora,” she announced.
“Thank you, Carmina.”
Carl nudged Ian discreetly and whispered, “I can’t wait to tuck into that meal.”
Señora Castillo’s eyes immediately opened wide and she stared at Carl in shock. “Did the lad just speak Spanish?” she asked.
The earl was quick to place a hand on Carl’s shoulder and answer, “Oh, no, señora, I’m afraid none of us speak Spanish, and other than their native English, my children speak only a bit of French, which, as you know, at times might sound quite similar. They were practicing their lessons, in fact, on the train, and I believe Carl was merely demonstrating what a quick study he is.”
Ian could sense the stiff posture of Carl standing beside him. “Bonjour, madame,” he said meekly.
Señora Castillo laughed merrily. “What a charming young man!” she exclaimed. “And might I also say what handsome children you have?” She eyed each of them in turn and pointed to Ian and Theo. “These two look very much alike, but this young man must favor his mother, am I right?” Ian wanted to laugh when she singled out poor Carl again.
The earl, however, seemed to notice Carl’s discomfort. “Yes, my second son does indeed resemble his mother, who was quite beautiful, as you can well imagine.”
Carl let out a breath he’d obviously been holding and looked up gratefully at the earl, but Señora Castillo clasped her hand to her heart and looked at the earl in earnest. “Did you say ‘was,’ Mr. Nutley?”
The earl nodded gravely. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Oh, my!” exclaimed their hostess. “I hadn’t realized the children’s mother had passed away. Such a tragedy!”
Ian shifted uncomfortably. He knew that it was important to lend a few facts about themselves to Señora Castillo in order not to appear too secretive, but all this emphasis on their mothers being dead unsettled him. Was his mother dead? he wondered. He’d likely never know for certain.
The earl nodded again and the señora clasped his hand for a moment before her face suddenly flashed into a brilliant smile. “All this melancholy talk simply won’t do after you’ve all endured such a long journey. Come along into the dining room, if you please, and we’ll enjoy an authentic Spanish lunch and talk of happier things.”
It seemed to Ian that he and Carl weren’t the only ones looking forward to tasting whatever dish had that amazing smell, because everyone hurried after their hostess into the dining room.
Once they were seated, Señora Castillo’s cook served them steaming plates of the best-tasting seafood stew Ian had ever had in his life. While he ate, he made sure to hold his tongue, lest someone say something in Spanish and cause him to slip. He settled for listening to the conversation the adults were having.
He learned that Señora Castillo’s husband had passed away only the year before. She claimed that he had kept her in Spain through the war. “I couldn’t leave my beloved Ernesto,” she said. “And he was far too sick to travel for many
years before he died. No, in the end it was better that he remained here, surrounded by his books, his art, and his people. I do miss him, though,” she added sadly, her eyes misting. “As I said, no one comes round to visit an old lady in mourning anymore.”
The table fell silent and Ian was sure no one knew what to say. But Theo surprised him when she reached out and took hold of the woman’s hand. “You’ll be all right,” she assured the widow. “And I expect you’ll soon visit your homeland, Señora Castillo. I’ve a mind to say that in just a short time, you’ll want to come back to England again.”
Señora Castillo’s face registered some surprise. “As a matter of fact, my dear young miss, I received a letter from a cherished friend this very morning asking if I might want to join her for a visit! How uncanny that you should mention it to me this afternoon!”
Theo smiled knowingly. “I believe you should accept the proposal, ma’am.”
Señora Castillo continued to look at her with some surprise, and the professor steered the conversation back to the reason they’d traveled so far. “I’m anxious to look at Donovan’s journals, Señora Castillo. Have you by chance located them among his things?”
“Oh, yes, Professor,” she said, pulling her attention away from Theo to beam at him. “Donovan was quite the prolific writer, you know. He was always scribbling in his journals. Even as a boy he wanted to capture the essence of his life by chronicling everything that happened to him. Such a shame he was with us for so brief a time. I’m sure he would have had the most wonderfully adventurous life.”
“From what I’ve heard,” said the earl in a kindly voice, “your brother’s life was already rich with adventure, Señora Castillo. I should also be most interested to read his journals.”
Señora Castillo nodded at him enthusiastically. “Yes, yes,” she said. “However, I must warn you that many of his later journal entries are nearly illegible. Donovan had the most dreadful penmanship, I’m afraid. I should think you’ll find deciphering his scribbles to be a task requiring patience and a keen mind.”
Ian watched the professor beam at Señora Castillo. “I’m sure I’m up for the challenge,” he said.
By this time Carmina was gathering up the dishes, and Ian couldn’t help noticing she was eying them all a bit warily. Theo was also keeping close watch on the servant, and the moment the cook went out of the room again, Theo leaned in and whispered, “I don’t like her.”
He would have whispered back that he agreed, but Señora Castillo was getting to her feet and encouraging her guests to do the same. “I should think you all must be quite exhausted from your long journey and in need of rest. If you will all follow me, I will take you upstairs to your rooms and allow you time to refresh yourselves.”
They took hold of their luggage and trooped up the stairs behind Señora Castillo, and Ian was delighted with the warmth and spaciousness of the house. As he crested the landing, he saw that it fed into a corridor with several doors. “The boys will be in here,” the widow announced, opening the first door on the left and revealing a good-sized room painted robin’s-egg blue with a twin bed on each side of the window.
Ian and Carl thanked Señora Castillo, who patted them each on the back before leading the rest of the party farther down the hallway.
While the others were being shown to their quarters, Ian made quick business of unpacking his suitcase. It took him no time at all, as he’d brought only two spare pairs of trousers and three extra shirts. He opened one drawer in the bureau, thinking Carl could take the other, but as he turned around to tell Carl this, he discovered his friend curled up on the far bed, snoring softly.
Ian shook his head. All Carl ever seemed to need after a large meal was a nice long nap.
A giggle from behind told him that Theo found it as funny as he did. He turned to face her and held a finger to his lips, although he was smiling too. “I think he’s set a new record,” he whispered. “We only came upstairs a few minutes ago.”
“Are you tired?” Theo asked, coming to sit on Ian’s bed.
“No, not really.”
“Care for a card game?” she suggested. Ian smiled again and sat down opposite her on the bed. They kept their voices to a whisper so as not to disturb anyone taking an afternoon nap, which, judging from the sound of the snores coming to them from the hallway, included the professor and the earl.
Not long into their card game, Ian heard a soft knock on a door somewhere outside the open window. He and Theo both looked curiously first at each other, then at the window to peer outside.
Right below them stood a man at the back door of the house. Ian couldn’t see his face, but there was something familiar about the man’s cap. A moment later the door was opened and Carmina’s voice carried up to them. “Yes?” she demanded.
“Good day,” said the man. “I was here earlier. I delivered your guests from the train station.”
“Oh?” said Carmina. Ian realized that the man below was, in fact, their taxi driver. He wondered the same thing Carmina asked. “Did they leave some baggage behind in your taxi?”
The man removed his hat and began fingering it nervously. “No,” he said, his voice noticeably quieter. “And if I could please ask you to speak somewhere privately? The news I have to share I would not want overheard.”
Ian caught his breath. Whatever this man had to say, Ian was now quite certain he must work to hear it.
To his relief, Carmina didn’t move away with the cab driver but remained standing right under their window. “You may speak freely, sir. My employer is taking her afternoon nap, and she is a woman who sleeps deeply.”
The driver continued to fiddle with his hat nervously. “I am more worried that your guests might overhear.”
Carmina made a derisive sound. “The English travelers?” she asked. “They speak only English and a bit of French, I’m told.”
At this the driver stopped playing with his hat and tucked it under his arm. “Ah,” he said. “That is very good.”
“Now tell me what you want or I will ask you to leave,” Carmina snapped, and Ian was glad she was being so insistent, because he was just as impatient to hear what the driver had to say.
“There is some interest in your guests,” the man confessed, and Ian felt a tickle of fear creep through him. “I have a patron who would very much like to know who it is they are visiting, and why.”
Carmina stepped out onto the back steps and took a package of cigarettes and a lighter from her apron pocket. She offered a cigarette to the driver, who declined; then she lit her own and said, “How much would your patron pay for this information?”
Beside Ian, Theo sucked in a small breath, and Ian held a finger over his lips.
“She would be willing to pay handsomely,” the man assured the cook, and he then reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out a few bills.
Carmina snatched the money right out of the driver’s hand and said, “They come here to pay a visit to the widow Castillo. The old man is interested in some diary kept by the widow’s brother, who died many years ago. I am told the English intend to stay a week or so to sort through the journal.”
The taxi driver nodded enthusiastically. “I believe my patron would like to see this diary. Do you think you might be able to secure it for me?”
Carmina looked about nervously, and both Theo and Ian pulled their heads in from the window, lest either one of the pair below look up. “I believe that can be arranged,” they heard her say. “For double what you have just given me.”
“Of course,” the driver said easily.
“The visitors are taking a siesta right now, and later tonight, after I have cooked them a nice hearty meal, they will surely wish to turn in immediately. I can also ensure that their sleep is sound enough that they will not overhear my securing the diary and delivering it to you. Where should I meet you?”
“I will have my lorry parked on the road behind those woods,” said the driver. Ian inched his nose above the sil
l to peek out at the woods set behind the back garden.
“Make sure you have the money,” Carmina reminded him curtly. “Now go before the widow wakes and sees you.”
A moment later they heard the closing of the back door, followed by the quick footfalls of the driver hurrying down the dirt path to the woods.
Ian’s heart was racing and he and Theo stared at each other with stunned expressions. “This is terrible!” Theo whispered.
Ian nodded dully, too surprised to speak for a long moment. He thought back to the woman from the train who’d been quick to turn away the moment he’d looked at her, and how later he’d seen her hand some bills to their taxi driver but hadn’t got into the taxicab. He was convinced that she was a spy for one of the sorcerers, but what her true identity was, he had no idea. He also had the thought again that she and the man with the bronze cuffs could be working together.
“We’ve got to alert the earl,” Ian finally said, getting up to move quickly to the door, but as he walked across the wood planks, they creaked loudly and he stopped, afraid Carmina might hear him and realize they were awake.
Theo seemed to be reading his mind, because she whispered, “We’ll have to wait.”
Ian turned back and tiptoed to the bed. “Yes,” he agreed.
Much later that evening, after supper, when Señora Castillo had finally retired to bed, Ian whispered to the earl that he had a most urgent matter to discuss with all of them. They made their way to the widow’s library, where Carl—who’d been told all about the treachery the moment he’d awakened from his afternoon nap—stood guard at the door, keeping a watchful eye out for Carmina.
“This is most distressing,” said the professor after Ian recounted what he and Theo had overheard. “Most distressing indeed!”
“Professor,” the earl asked, “has Señora Castillo given you her brother’s journal yet?”
The professor nodded. “Yes,” he said, pulling a singed leather-bound book from his blazer pocket. “She gave it to me just before dinner. But, my lord, I’ve only had a brief moment to look through it. Barnaby was a meticulous scribe, you see, and he made an exact replica of the last of the Oracle’s scroll. There’s a fair degree of smoke damage to the text. My eyes aren’t what they once were; deciphering his scribbles will be rather slow going, I’m afraid.”