Tidings of Great Boys (25 page)

I scanned the ballroom in a panic, my skin under my
earasaid
prickling with the feeling that one of those guns was about to be pointed between my shoulder blades. I had seconds to find
them. Maybe less.

“Mac!” Carly appeared from behind a towering arrangement of apples on the buffet table.

I grabbed handfuls of skirt and ran across the floor. “Where is she?”

“Outside in the hall.”

“Come on. We have to be quick.”

We dashed out of the ballroom and found Shani looking bewildered on the settee under the curve of the stairs. “What’s going
on, girlfriends?”

“The Yasiri Secret Service are here for you.”

The blood drained out of her face. “I didn’t do anything. What do they want me for?”

“It’s to do with that wretched video. The Sheikh has his knickers in a twist and they want to fly you to Edinburgh to—I don’t
know, be shouted at. Best case.”

“What’s worst case?” Shani’s lips trembled.

“Mac,” Carly pleaded, her gaze riveted on the door. “They’re reaching critical mass in there and your dad just came back into
the ballroom.”

“Of all times to be a gentleman. He’s going to let them in.” I grabbed their arms and dragged them up the staircase. “Here’s
what we have to do. Carly, clean up Shani’s half of her and Gillian’s room. Make it look like she was never there.”

“I’ll take her clothes upstairs and stash them in with the old clothes on the third floor.”

“Good thinking.” We pounded up the last of the stairs and dashed down the corridor toward the bedrooms. “Shani, come with
me.”

“Where?”

“This place has been here for five centuries. Don’t you think we MacPhails have had to hide people once or twice before?”

“You mean secret passageways?” Carly’s eyes lit up as she hovered in the corridor with us. “Real ones? Where are they?”

“I’m not going to tell you. That way, when the agents interrogate you all, you can tell them the truth. Quick, now!”

Carly ducked into Gillian’s and Shani’s room and I took Shani’s hand. “This is the tricky part. We have to get into the unused
wing on the other side of the grand staircase without being spotted.”

“We need to get out of these dresses, then.”

“No time. Come on.”

The presentation balcony, where the laird once gave his state-of-the-earldom speech to his tenants, stretched from one side
of the entry hall to the other, on the second floor. People milled about down below, and as I scoped out our chances of making
a run for it, the door opened and a new guest slipped inside.

Several new guests. Dressed in evening clothes and carrying cameras much too big to fit in the pocket of a tux or in a jeweled
bag.

“Oh, no,” Shani breathed. “Reporters.” She backed away from the wide oak banister and pressed up against the wall. “What do
we do now?”

I tamped down the rage that built in the back of my throat. “They’re not allowed at a family party. I shall lodge a complaint
with—”

“Mac!”

Should I go down and throw them out? If I did, I’d lose the scant minutes’ advantage we had. And from the noise level rising
in the ballroom, even that was running out fast.

“What are you lot doing here?” Alasdair’s voice cut through the buzz of talk.

“We’re with the movie people,” someone said smoothly. “Still photographers for
The Middle Window
. I understand we were all invited. Sorry to be late.”

Lies! Standing right behind him was the woman reporter who’d asked me such obnoxious questions. Only now she wasn’t wearing
her camel coat.

“You must think we’re thick as planks,” Alasdair retorted. “You were here this afternoon.”

The group erupted in accusations and excuses, flashes went off, and I seized my moment—as well as Shani’s arm. Together we
dashed across the balcony, pressed as close to the wall as we could, and pushed through the oak door on the other side that
led to the unused wing. I whirled and closed it, wishing it had a bolt or at least a lock—something solid between us and the
mounting threats downstairs.

“I’m going to have bruises on my arms the size of walnuts, Miss Bony Fingers.” Shani panted along behind me, her Lanvin dress
whipping round her ankles.

“Let’s hope that’s all you have. My poor dress is going to be ruined.”

“Take it off.”

I glanced at her over my shoulder. “You keep saying that.”

“Serious. What have you got under it? A crinoline thing, right? That’s expendable. And you’ve got that big old plaid on top.
Just wrap it around you sarong style and you’ll be completely covered.”

“That will only matter if they find us.” We cleared the old presentation room and a formal morning room. “Which they won’t.
Here.”

A dash up a musty staircase brought us to the armory and beyond it the games room, complete with bowling alley. That was my
goal. I skidded to a stop and sneezed violently. If there was this much dust here, what would it be like in the passageway?
“Fine. You win. Help me get this off.”

Shani unzipped me and I wriggled out of the cream silk, which was looking a little the worse for wear round the hem, thanks
to my brief minutes outside in the snow. Still, no point completely destroying it.

“Here, like this.” She wound the
earasaid
round my torso, South Seas style, and pinned it in place with my brooch. “That crinny has got to go, Mac.”

“You’re right.”

I stepped out of it, leaving me in a plain slip, stockings, and dancing slippers. At least I could run in those, if I had
to. I gathered up dress and petticoat and flung open the trunk that rested under a display of eighteenth-century pistols.
Rolling the dress into a ball, and wrapping the petticoat round it to keep the dust away, I stuffed it in the trunk.

“Now, let’s get you hidden as well.”

“How are you going to do that? Dress me in a suit of armor?”

“You’ve been watching too many movies.” We ran into the games room and down to the end of the bowling alley. “There’s a false
back on this wall, behind where the pins were.”

I pushed on a panel, and it clicked and swung outward. “In you go. Crawl all the way to the end and you’ll come to a door.”

“Crawl? Aw man, Madame Lanvin is never gonna forgive me for doing this to her dress.”

“Madame died in the forties, and her ghost will never know. Pull it between your legs and stick it through the sash.”

Graceful we were not. But now was not the time to quibble about that. I’d discovered this passage one rainy afternoon when
I was eight and bored out of my mind. I’d tripped on an ancient wooden bowling pin lying on the floor, and had fallen against
the panel in just the right way to pop it open. Dust filled my nose again as I carefully pulled it back into place so that
no light showed round its edges. Then I felt my way down the passage, crawling after Shani.

“Please tell me there’s a light switch somewhere,” I heard her say up ahead. “I’m not big on small, dark places.”

“Don’t go to pieces on me now,” I warned. My hand came down on her foot, and her body jerked but she didn’t scream. “Sorry.
Only me. There should be a door up here. Can you feel it?”

Patting sounds in the dark. “We can’t go any further. I guess that means the door. Wait, here’s the handle.”

She pushed it open and we found ourselves at the top of a narrow stone stair. “Down you go. This takes us down the outside
wall, back the way we came.”

“It’s dark down there.”

“I’ll go first.”

The bottom of the stair opened into a stone passage. There was just enough space to turn sideways and inch along crab fashion.
“Double walls,” I whispered. “This is the old part of the house.”

“Great.” Light filtered in from above. “Please tell me the spiders have been dead for five centuries.”

“Oh, yes. Besides, it’s too cold for them.”

“They’re not the only ones. What is that smell?”

“Dead bugs?”

“No, the other smell.”

“Age, I suppose.” Goose bumps broke out on my arms, and my teeth began to chatter. “Old stones, moss, damp, you n-name it.”

“We’re g-going to freeze to death and be trapped in these walls, aren’t we?” Our hands touched as we sidestepped past curtains
of spiderwebs and dry, curly lichen that somehow found a way to grow in here.

“Oh, man,” I mimicked her tone from a moment ago. “Did someone tell you about the ghost?”

She grabbed my fingers. “Mac, I swear, if you say one word about a ghost I’m going to completely lose it.”

I laughed and bumped her gently. Maybe those stories would be better left for a night when we were safely tucked up in bed,
and all this was behind us. “We’re nearly there. See?” A dark hole loomed to my right as I pulled in my stomach to avoid a
protruding stone.

“Nearly where?”

“This will bring us out behind the sitting room where we have tea.”

“What do you mean, behind it?”

“There’s a grate behind one of the bookshelves. The shelf swings out. We’ll leave that way when everyone is gone.”

Two minutes later, Shani gave a gusty sigh of relief and rubbed her arms briskly. “At least it’s warm,” she whispered. “But
this doesn’t buy us a thing. Look at all the people. How are we going to get out?”

I grabbed her arm in the semi-dark. “Wait. It’s Dad. And the Yasiri agents.”

And a lot of other people besides, including the rest of my friends, Lissa’s parents, and Mummy. Peering out from behind a
wire grate and a set of leather-bound hunting circulars from the turn of the last century, we had ringside seats for the show.

“Are you satisfied, then?” Dad demanded of the agents. “I’ve showed you around and it’s clear the girl is not here.”

“With your permission, Your Lordship, we would like to search the house.”

“Search… ?” Dad looked about to choke. “I’ve told you that her room is empty and she must have decided to leave.”

“In the middle of a party?”

“We haven’t actually seen her all evening,” Patricia said smoothly. “She could simply be homesick. She’s certainly capable
of calling a cab on her own.”

“Carly must have gotten to them,” I whispered to Shani. “They’re covering for you like they know what they’re doing.”

“Your Lordship, we apologize most humbly,” the agent said. “But to fulfill our duty to His Highness, we must be able to tell
him we searched the house.”

Dad’s jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. “Very well. You have my permission. But I do this under protest, which I will register
with your embassy, and if one item of my guests’ property is damaged or disturbed, you will answer for it personally.”

Both agents bowed. “Agreed.”

“Mac.” Shani sounded as choked up as Dad.

“What?”

“I’m going to sneeze.”

“Don’t you d—”

“Mmmph!” Shani held her breath and clapped her hands over her mouth and nose.

One of the agents turned and looked at Gillian, who was standing not far from us. “Yes?”

“I—I, um—” She glanced at Dad. “Sir, I think someone should go with them.”

“Right. Yes, of course. I will. Meg, please see to our guests. I can’t think where Lindsay has got to.”

“I saw her with Alasdair earlier.”
Oh, thanks a lot, Lissa. Way to out me in front of my parents.

“Alasdair?” Mummy looked interested. Way too interested. “Really?”

“Meg. Our guests?”

“Yes, of course, darling. Everyone, let’s go back to the ballroom and have a little supper, shall we? It’s nearly ten o’clock.”

The crowd filtered slowly out of the room, and I heard three sets of men’s feet slapping on the marble of the grand staircase
as Dad led the agents upstairs to begin their search. Gillian lingered near the piano. The dividing partition between the
sitting room and the music room had been pulled back so people could entertain themselves if they wanted to.

Or—my contingency plan—listen to Gillian entertain them if the DJ hadn’t responded to bribery and shown up.

Gillian leaned over the keys. With one finger, she plinked out four notes: Here comes the bride.

I
GLANCED SIDELONG at Shani. “That was close. She knows we’re here.”

“Is it safe to come out?” she breathed back, her mouth close to my ear.

I shook my head. “Not till you hear the chopper leave. Maybe not even then.”

“If we get her attention, do you think she could bring us some food? I’m starving.”

“Shani, you just missed being interrogated by the Yasiri Secret Service! How can you think about your stomach?”

“It keeps me from remembering I have to pee.”

Must not laugh
. I pulled in a breath. “Someone’s coming.”

The sitting-room door swung open wider, and Carly slipped in on a wave of conversational buzz from outside. “Any news?”

“They’re doing a room-by-room search,” Gillian told her. “I don’t feel right about this.”

“About what? Keeping our friend from being arrested?”

“Who says she’s going to be arrested? The Sheikh just wants to talk to her. It’s not honest to say she isn’t here when—”

“Shhh! I don’t know about you, but letting the Men in Black take her away in a helicopter doesn’t exactly make me feel warm
and fuzzy. There must be laws against it. If the Sheikh wants to talk to her, let him do it at the embassy in London. With
parents there and stuff. Like a civilized person.”

“Whose parents?” Shani whispered. “Not mine.”

“Mine, probably,” I whispered back. “They’re responsible for you while you’re here. Did you see my dad’s face? He’s angry
enough to actually
go
to London and give the Sheikh a few strong words.”

The door opened again and I turned my head to see who it was. Lissa? Alasdair?

“Oh, hello,” Carrie said. Lily and Gordon stepped into the room behind her. “We didn’t think anyone was here.” Gordon slipped
the pack of smokes back into the pocket of his rumpled dinner jacket, as if he’d seriously given thought to lighting up in
my house.

Breathe. What would you have done, leaped through the bookcase to rip it out of his mouth?

Yes. Yes, I would have.