The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates #1 (32 page)

BOOK: The Very Nearly Honorable League of Pirates #1
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Hilary and Claire nodded.

“And I do hope you'll forget this nonsense about my treasure being in danger. If I hear one more word about it, I shall have to speak quite strongly with your parents.” Miss Pimm picked up her embroidery once more. “Now, I'd like to finish this pattern before the dinner bell rings, so I must wish you good day.”

“B
LAST
!”
SAID
H
ILARY
once they'd returned to the safety of the empty dormitory. “That didn't go well at all.”

Claire pulled on her green woolen cardigan, which happened to be inside out. “At least we tried to warn her,” she said. “We did the best we could.”

“But it wasn't enough,” said Hilary, “so we must be piratical about things.”

Claire fumbled with the buttonholes on her cardigan. “Piratical?”

“Yes,” said Hilary. “Father may not be the cleverest person in Augusta, but he is surprisingly skilled at villainy, and he'll tug Miss Pimm's treasure right out from under her feet. Unless I steal it first, of course.”

“Oh, bother these buttons!” said Claire. “You don't really intend to
steal
the treasure, do you?”

“I do,” said Hilary. “If we can't free Jasper from the Dungeons, I've got to be the Terror of the Southlands in his place. Jasper wanted to keep the magic safe from Father by handing it out to everyone in the kingdom, so that's what I must do.”

“But you'll get expelled!” Claire bounced down on her bunk. “Don't you think there's a rule about not stealing things from the headmistress? Especially
magic
things? What if you're caught? Oh, Hilary, what if you're sent to the Dungeons forever and ever, and I'm not allowed to visit you, and you catch a terrible illness and you can't even
write
to me?” She clutched at her cardigan. “There's only one thing to do. I must be your coconspirator. At least we'll be sent to the Dungeons together.”

The gargoyle hopped across Hilary's bed and nestled himself on her pillow. “You're both getting worked up over nothing. We'll find the treasure, and we won't get caught.”

“How can you be so sure?” said Claire.

“Well,” said the gargoyle, “we're pirates, aren't we?”

Claire considered this for a moment. “Yes,” she said finally. “I suppose we are.”

T
he
D
ancing
S
heep
A F
loating
D
ivision
of
M
iss
P
imm's
F
inishing
S
chool
for D
elicate
L
adies

Dear Admiral Westfield,

Please forgive me for slipping this note under your door, but you seem to be out of your cabin at the moment. I am delighted to hear that you will be staying on in Pemberton for a few days when we reach the mainland. Of course you are eager to spend time with your daughter, and I appreciate your desire to learn more about our fine institution. I shall have a spare bedroom made up for you at Miss Pimm's when we arrive in a few hours' time.

I must admit that I have a delicate favor to ask of you in return. As you know, I intend to enroll the boy Charlie Dove at the Queensport Academy for Difficult Boys. However, I fear that it may be several days before the academy can find a place for him, and he cannot be allowed to spoil his own future by running away in the meantime. Would you be willing to watch over him at Miss Pimm's to ensure that he does not escape from the building or—good heavens!—wander the halls of the school? I feel the boy could learn a great deal from your noble example. If you will allow him to share your accommodations, I will happily provide you with a lock and key.

Yours in gratitude,

Eugenia Pimm

From the Humble Pen of
Eloise Greyson

Dear Hilary,

I hope this note finds you well. I regret that I was not able to say good-bye when we came ashore; the guards seemed rather insistent on dragging us away as hastily as possible. However, the Royal Dungeons are lovely at this time of year, and one guard was kind enough to bring me some writing paper. I have had to inscribe my own letterhead, of course, and I do wish I had my good fountain pen with me, but the guards assure me that criminals do not use fountain pens. As they are experts in criminal behavior and I am not, I have no choice but to believe them.

Are you enjoying Miss Pimm's? You must throw yourself into your studies and devote yourself to becoming a young lady of quality, for I would not want you to do anything rash and end up in he Dungeons. Not that the Dungeons are anything but pleasant—I have even befriended a small field mouse! We share the lump of cheese that I receive each day, and I have told him all about your courage and pluck. He sends his best regards.

Jasper occupies the cell adjoining mine, and he is just as cheerful as one might expect, given the circumstances. He has asked me to send you his good wishes, and he says that he hopes you are living up to your new title. I'm sure I don't know what he means by that.

We have been told that we may be given a trial if the royal judge is in the mood for one, but he is vacationing in his mountain lodge at the moment and cannot be reached. In any case, I hear that he is not too fond of pirates, so he shall probably send us straight back to the Dungeons. I have asked for some curtains and rag rugs to make my cell more welcoming. It is nothing like the bookshop I dreamed of having, but it makes one appreciate the simpler things in life, and I'm sure I will be a better person for it.

I must admit that I wish we were all back on the High Seas, but please, Hilary, do not turn to piracy in an attempt to rescue us! I know you never listen to a word I say, but you must understand that a few years of finishing school is highly preferable to a lifetime in the Dungeons.

With love,

Miss Greyson

C
HAPTER
S
EVENTEEN

A
LL THE LANTERNS
at Miss Pimm's Finishing School for Delicate Ladies had been snuffed out hours before, but Hilary had no intention of sleeping. She paced the deck—or the floorboards, rather—of the room she shared with Claire. Then she folded and unfolded the letter she'd received from Miss Greyson in that evening's post. On the bookshelf above her bed, the gargoyle rested his snout on
Treasure Island
and grudgingly made space for Fitzwilliam, who had snuggled under the gargoyle's left wing.

“If you were the Enchantress,” Hilary said, “where would you hide your treasure?”

Claire sat on the edge of her bed and poked at her guttering candle. “I suppose it could be anywhere in Augusta. Oh dear; what shall we do if the treasure is buried up in the Northlands? We'll never find it then.”

Hilary began to pace again. It made her feel a good deal more like the Terror of the Southlands, though she was fairly sure the previous Terror had never paced the decks in a white eyelet nightgown. “It simply can't be in the Northlands,” she said after a while. “Father has decided to stay on in Pemberton, and I doubt he's making social calls. He must believe the treasure is somewhere nearby.”

“Perhaps he's right,” said Claire. “We're searching for the Enchantress's treasure, after all, and the Enchantress herself is right here.” She wrinkled her nose. “What if it's in Miss Pimm's private rooms? What if it's in her
laundry?

“A pirate must consider every possibility,” said Hilary, “no matter how terrifying.”

Claire shuddered. “I believe I have a new respect for pirates.”

On the bookshelf, the gargoyle sat upright so suddenly that he sent Fitzwilliam flying through the air. “Listen!” he said. “I hear footsteps!”

Hilary stopped pacing. Beyond the door, in the heavy hush of the dormitory staircase, someone's boots scraped up the steps. The gargoyle leaped off the bookshelf and dove into Hilary's blankets. “It's the ghost of Simon Westfield,” he cried, “come to seek his revenge!”

“Or Philomena,” whispered Claire, “come to turn me into a fish stick.”

“Or even worse,” said Hilary, “it's Father.”

The boots scraped closer. Then, just outside the door, they paused.

Claire gave a little shriek, and the door swung open.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Hilary let out the breath she'd been holding. “It's only Charlie.”


Only
Charlie!” Charlie blew out his candle and shut the door behind him. “I slip out from under the admiral's watchful eye, swipe a spare candle, wander the halls of this drafty mansion for nearly an hour, find my way to your room without stumbling over any sleeping schoolgirls, and I'm
only
Charlie? It hardly seems fair.”

Hilary laughed and hugged him. “Whatever are you doing here? Shouldn't you run away before Miss Pimm sends you to that horrid academy?”

“I thought about it,” said Charlie, “but I'm a pirate, and I can't abandon my crewmates. If Jasper wants us to find that treasure, I'll—” He stopped, and his smile slipped straight off his face. “Hilary,” he said quietly, “did you know there's a finishing-school girl in here?”

“Oh! This is Claire. I suppose the two of you haven't met.” Hilary turned to Claire, who was standing at the foot of her bed in her nightgown and robe. “Claire, this is my friend Charlie.”

Claire curtsied. Then, for good measure, she took Charlie's hand and shook it heartily. “Hello,” she said; “it's ever so lovely to meet you. Are you really a pirate? You're the third pirate I've met—after Hilary, of course, and the gargoyle. Hilary has told me all about your adventures on the
Pigeon
, and it's terribly kind of you to help us find the treasure. We don't
need
help, truly, but it will be pleasant to have company. I think Admiral Westfield is simply dreadful, don't you?”

Charlie turned to stare at Hilary. “What do I do?” he whispered.

“Why, Charlie Dove,” said Hilary, “I do believe you're scared of finishing-school girls.”

Charlie crossed his arms. “A pirate is never scared,” he said. “It's . . . it's nice to meet you, Claire.”

“How did you get away?” Hilary asked. “Isn't Father supposed to be keeping an eye on you?”

“Old Westfield crept out of the room long before I did, and he didn't bother to lock the door behind him. He had a spade tucked under his arm, so I think he's still hunting for the treasure.”

“So he
does
think it's nearby.” Hilary resumed her pacing. “But I suppose it could be anywhere in Pemberton. Do you know if Father left the building?”

“No idea,” said Charlie. “I didn't follow him. I wasn't interested in getting myself run through.”

“Ahem,” said the gargoyle. He crawled out from Hilary's blankets and swished his tail. “I've been thinking about this treasure-hunting business, and I have an announcement. My ears feel funny.”

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