The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place (16 page)

“Will this be all?” the chemist asked. He tallied up their purchases, and Smooth Kitty, who held the purse, stepped forward to pay. Mr. Buckley counted out her change. “You’re the young ladies from the school out on Prickwillow, aren’t you?”

Kitty swallowed her caramel. “That’s right.” Now for the condolences for Mrs. Plackett.

“How’s your carpet beetle problem?”

Kitty blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Your carpet beetle problem.”

Kitty turned to Pocked Louise for help. That girl nodded thoughtfully. “Now you mention it, I do believe Barnes mentioned carpet beetles vexing her. I haven’t noticed them.”

“Must be the preparation I made her did its job. You ladies have a good day, now. Oughtn’t you to be at your studies?”

The girls looked to Kitty to answer this awkward question.

“Mrs. Plackett believes it’s useful for us to take field trips from time to time to practice our, er, arithmetic in the shops,” she said.

Mr. Buckley nodded. “There’s sense in that. Good day to you.”

As they walked along Nutholt Lane toward Prickwillow Road, Kitty sucked caramel from her teeth and puzzled over the peculiar young man. Why her? Why would he single her out like that? Most likely it was not a particular compliment for her. He probably bought sweets for young ladies every day of the week.

Pocked Louise also occupied herself with thoughts of the stranger. What an odd coincidence that the very same person who had come looking for the school the day before should appear in the apothecary shop. Was he following them? Should she tell the others? She bit her lip. She would need to confess to withholding his appearance yesterday. No need, she decided. But she didn’t trust him. He had just the sort of good looks a dangerous scoundrel
would
have. Maybe even a poisoner. They met him in a chemist’s shop, after all … Louise wrote “strange young man” in her list of suspects in the notebook she’d begun to carry.

The girls were nearly to the junction of Nutholt Lane and Prickwillow Road when their attention was captured by a loud, insistent tapping. They looked about and saw the stooped figure of Admiral Lockwood, with his shoulders draped in a shawl, rapping at his windowpane and gesturing urgently at them.

“What on earth?” Dour Elinor asked. “Does he think we’re trespassing?”

They waited uncertainly on the street outside Admiral Lockwood’s tall, dark Gothic house. The other windows were shuttered and still. The man himself had withdrawn from his window, and the girls began to feel rather silly standing there for no purpose.

Finally the front door creaked open, and an ancient servant in a dignified black suit that hung off his gaunt bones stood in the doorway.

“Young ladies,” he croaked, “Admiral Lockwood requests you do him the honor of stopping into his parlor for a moment for some lemonade.”

The girls looked at one another.

“Hadn’t we ought to decline?” whispered Dear Roberta. “Young ladies venturing unchaperoned into a man’s house?” She shuddered. “And such a frightful looking house!”

“Rubbish,” Disgraceful Mary Jane whispered. “He’s as old as Methuselah. He can’t harm us. Rich as Croesus, too.
I’ll
drink his lemonade. Let’s go.”

“Besides,” Pocked Louise said, “we may learn something. Admiral Lockwood is on my Possible Suspects list.”

Dear Roberta squeaked. “Isn’t that all the more reason
not
to go?” she cried. “What if he poisons our lemonade?”

Disgraceful Mary Jane snorted. “And what, exactly, would he do with seven girl corpses? There’s safety in numbers, girls. Let’s go.”

Mary Jane led the way up the steps and into the dark bowels of the house. The others followed, clutching their grocery baskets as though they might offer some protection.

The house was cool and dark, paneled everywhere with black walnut. The servant bid them leave their baskets in the entryway, then showed them into a study where Admiral Lockwood stood with one gnarled hand gripping the head of a carved cane. The study was filled to bursting with grotesque statues from foreign lands, including, Elinor noted, several made from ebony. They saw curios and coins under dusty domes of glass. Ships in bottles lined the mantelpiece, and a massive anchor hung on the wall. A globe by Admiral Lockwood’s side, and sextants, maps, and compasses scattered about on tables gave the impression that the admiral was planning an imminent voyage. A lifeboat with oars even hung from the high-beamed ceiling, right over the chair where Dull Martha sat, which made her very anxious. Pocked Louise took in the navigational volumes and the scientific instruments with great interest, yet for all this nautical atmosphere, the room had the dolorous grimness of a mausoleum.

“What a lovely room,” Dour Elinor said. She, at least, felt right at home.

Disgraceful Mary Jane curtseyed for the admiral, and the others followed.

“Won’t you sit down?” the admiral said. “Young ladies enjoy sweets, don’t they?” He reached for a silver box on a table with a hand tremulous with age. “These are chocolate candies from Switzerland. Mr. Nestlé’s company makes them.” He held out the box toward Stout Alice.

Alice hesitated, then dismissed her worries. She took a chocolate and bit into it. It was soft and waxy-smooth. Then it melted on her tongue. Sweet ambrosia! Bonbons of the gods!

“I’ve had chocolate candies before,” Disgraceful Mary Jane said. “At my cousin’s coming-out party. They’re divine.” She helped herself to a piece. “Mmm. Thank you, Admiral.”

He nodded, obviously pleased. “Take more. My lads at the shipping office keep me supplied with all the chocolate I could wish.” He leaned forward and whispered, conspiratorially, “Your headmistress is exceptionally fond of chocolate.”

Dear Roberta felt her face blush hot. So it was true! The old admiral was linked somehow to Mrs. Plackett. She shivered. She would never understand old people.

Smooth Kitty polished off her chocolate square. “It’s delicious! Absolutely marvelous!”

The admiral turned to face her. “Right you are, young lady. Tell me, what is your name?”

“Katherine Heaton,” Kitty replied.

“Well, Miss Katherine,” he said, “the world is full of delicious foods and fruits and wines;
f
lowers and perfumes and incense; spices and ointments and medicines; jewels and ores and wonders, as would boggle the mind. I’ve seen it all. Sunsets over the Caribbean, moonrise in the Congo, the Northern Lights in the Arctic Sea. I’ve seen tribes shoot tiny poison darts no bigger than a dragon
f
ly and deadly enough to kill an elephant.”

Pocked Louise jolted upright at the word
poison
. Kitty reacted more to
elephant
.

“I’ve seen the rice fields of China, ankle deep in water, and prettier than springtime. I’ve seen silk factories, temples, and treasure palaces studded with rubies and sapphires. Greater riches than England’s banks can hold. But don’t think I haven’t brought some back with me!”

Alice decided she liked Admiral Lockwood very much. Her own grandmamma was a widow. If she could have chosen a grandfather, she would choose this one.

The admiral thumped his cane. “And why should a man not be permitted to share his treasures with a companion, a woman of mature sense, who likes to hear his tales, someone to pass the long hours with, and eat his chocolate, I’d like to know?”

“May
I
eat some more chocolate?” Dull Martha asked.

The admiral looked extremely pleased. “Help yourself.”

He sat and gazed at each of the girls in turn, leaving them feeling somewhat self-conscious, but not altogether awkward. The servant appeared in the doorway, staggering a bit under the weight of a tray bearing eight tall glasses of lemonade. Chunks of ice bobbed in each glass. Ice in May! Admiral Lockwood was rich indeed.

“Come in, Jeffers,” the admiral called, and the servant tottered in and served them. The lemonade seemed tart after the chocolate, but it was so wonderfully cold, none of the girls cared. He returned soon after with biscuits and crackers with cheese. The admiral, whose girth suggested he availed himself often of these midmorning repasts, urged the girls to eat their fill, and beamed at them as they did so.

“Now, Miss Katherine,” he asked Kitty, while she still had a mouthful of chocolate and butter biscuit—an exquisite combination, as she was just then discovering—“tell me how your headmistress fares today. Is she recovering from Sunday’s shock?”

Kitty struggled to chew and swallow so she could answer politely. Admiral Lockwood’s eager gaze showed her the horror of what she must now do. Here was someone who was truly fond of Mrs. Plackett. Romantically attached to her, even. Heaven only knew why. What had he seen in her that Kitty and the others didn’t? Kitty never for a moment had mourned her loss, but here was someone who would. And now she must lie to this surprisingly dear old man, and mislead his hopes.

“I say it’s a fine thing that her young brother went off to India to be of some assistance,” the admiral said. “About time he made himself useful to his family. In the navy, my dears, we value men of industry and purpose! Not gadabouts and wastrels like Aldous Godding.” He gripped his cane as though imagining how he’d use it to teach Mr. Godding a lesson, were that unworthy on board one of his ships, and he, the admiral, a much younger man.

“Admiral Lockwood,” Smooth Kitty said. “Tell us about the elephant.”

The old man’s eyes widened. “She showed it to you, did she?”

The girls exchanged glances. His reaction was informative in itself.

“She didn’t mean to,” Kitty said truthfully. “We … happened upon it. The fault is ours.”

“I see.” The admiral nodded. “Bound to happen in a house full of curious young ladies.”

Pocked Louise spoke up. “It’s good for young ladies to be curious, don’t you think?”

The old man pursed his lips, as if he’d never before considered such a question. “Well, my dear … how old are you?”

“Twelve,” answered Pocked Louise with a touch of defiance.

The admiral nodded. “Twelve. That’s a grand age. Young ladies, curious? Why not? Why shouldn’t they be? I always said a sailor needed to be curious, or he’d lose heart at sea. I suppose a curious mind won’t do young ladies any harm, provided it doesn’t leave them discontented with their lot in life.” He surveyed the girls, and seemed to arrive at a satisfactory resolution of this thorny dilemma. “We live in an age of discovery, young ladies. New books come out by the hundreds each year. Even you can keep your minds stimulated by
reading
about the world.”

“We don’t merely want to read about it,” Pocked Louise said. “We want the kinds of adventures you’ve had.”

The admiral smiled indulgently. “And who can blame you for that? Here, have a chocolate.” He took one himself, and bit it thoughtfully. “The elephant is something I picked up in East Africa, years ago. Just a little curio that caught my eye. I thought your headmistress might enjoy it.”

“Oh, she does,” Kitty said. “But what does it do?”

The admiral shifted in his chair. “Do?”

Kitty realized she may have said too much. “Do. I thought … it looked like it might have some use … beyond ornamentation.”

The admiral shook his head. “It’s just a pretty knickknack.” He thumped his cane on the
f
loor for good measure. “But you were about to tell me how your headmistress is getting along.”

He was like a young man in love
, Kitty thought. “Mrs. Plackett is recovering,” she said. “Rest has done her good. She plans to accompany us tomorrow evening to the strawberry social.”

“Does she now?” He leaned forward in his chair. “Does she now indeed?”

Stout Alice began to wonder what additional horrors the following night might bring.

“She doesn’t, by any chance…” The admiral coughed. “She wouldn’t, I suppose, ever make a mention of me to you young ladies?”

A mortifying silence fell over the room. The girls didn’t dare look at one another. The admiral became suddenly fascinated by a mole on the back of his hand.

“Frequently, as a matter of fact.” Disgraceful Mary Jane jumped in to fill the void. “She often says, ‘Now, girls, if every man could be such a perfect gentleman as Admiral Lockwood, I would have no worries for your future prospects.’”

Mary Jane’s performance was so nonchalant, so convincing, that Smooth Kitty nearly believed it herself. Dull Martha and Dear Roberta gaped at her. The admiral, fortunately, was too tickled to notice their hanging jaws.

“I don’t know as I’d go that far,” he protested, beaming. “Plenty of my lads on board ship weren’t fond of my manners. Not when they’d gotten into the rum, ho ho! I could be a terror then.” He stroked his chin. “But I’m gratified by the compliment.”

Disgraceful Mary Jane drained the last drops of lemonade from her glass and set it down on the table. “That was delicious, Admiral,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

“My pleasure, my pleasure,” he said, waving it away. “Please, come by any time you are in the village. It’s a treat to entertain a group of such lovely young ladies as yourselves. I see your headmistress does a fine job with your education.”

Jeffers showed them out and bid them come again. “The admiral always has plenty of chocolate ready for visitors,” he whispered in a gravelly voice as they left.

They walked up the road to where it turned into Prickwillow.

“Admiral Lockwood seems to be a very nice man,” Dull Martha observed.

“A besotted old duffer,” Disgraceful Mary Jane said, “but an adorable one.”

“Such language, Mary Jane!” scolded Stout Alice.

“Doesn’t it strike you as odd that he should care so much for Mrs. Plackett?” Mary Jane ignored the lecture. “Oh, come. You know you’re all wondering, too.”

“Sometimes different personalities complement one another,” ventured Dear Roberta.

“I am beginning to wonder,” said Smooth Kitty, “if we knew Mrs. Plackett as well as we thought we did.”

“If she was all the admiral thinks her to be,” Stout Alice said slowly, “then we have misjudged her gravely.”

Elinor snickered. “
Gravely
.”