DayAfterMorning came to Hanover Square much as it did every morning, with the sun rising over Plum House. In its day, the building was the grand residence of the famous character actor Adolf Plum, his wife, and eight children. That was when Hanover Square's assembly rooms and nearby theatres entertained the upper crust of Aquila. Unfortunately times change and concepts of fashion are fickle. Now people held salons in their homes, the theatres entertained the common people of the city, and Adolf Plum's youngest daughter, Amity, was taking in boarders to support the grand old house on Hangover Square. One of these boarders was the soon-to-be famous reporter from Aquila Awake!, Mr. Guppy. He was fortunate to have his room on the side of the house so the curses that tumbled from his mouth were milder than if the sun was beating directly on his eyelids. He sat on the edge of his bed, holding his head in his hands and wearing the same clothes that he put on the morning before in Scar Gill. Those clothes were now tattered and soiled and possibly not even fit for the rag man. Mr. Guppy stripped off the old clothes, kicked them under the bed, and pulled on a cleaner shirt and trousers, groaning with every move of his body. He was born and raised in the lower city, leaving him unfit for the physical punishment of their escape from the occupied village of Scar Gill. He pushed his fingers through his dark, wavy hair and then held his hands in front of him, examining the scrapes earned from tunneling out of the church basement. He didn't see any leeches on his body, but he was sure that river they crossed was loaded with them. The brambles on the slopes of the Dardoli Mountains left their marks on his arms and legs as well. He vowed never to leave the city again, even if Josh Salter personally asked him. Downstairs, the dining room had already been cleared of breakfast. Amity Plum was sweeping the crumbs toward the kitchen when Mr. Guppy entered the room. "Breakfast hours are over," she snapped without looking up. "Not even a heel of bread for a weary traveler?" Guppy asked, his dark eyes pleading with her as well as any puppy dog. "Guppy." It was a statement dripping with the tolerance of a landlord toward a tenant who usually paid on time. "There's food still on the counter in the kitchen. Grab something quick but don't go making a mess." "Of course, milady. Not a crumb will drop from my fingers," Guppy replied with a bow, cut short from a full flourish by his aching muscles. "Today there is no one on Aquila as gracious and beautiful as you." Amity looked at him skeptically. Her sturdy frame did not receive compliments very often, but she seemed lighter on her feet as she finished sweeping the room. In the kitchen, Guppy tucked a piece of fruit away in a pocket for later before quickly grabbing a heel of bread spread thick with butter. He hoped for some coffee, but the pot was empty. One of the other residents was lounging in the parlor as Guppy passed. "I thought you were off to the Badlands. Did your trip get canceled?" Startled by the voice, Guppy swallowed the mouthful of bread. "I went. I was definitely there. I have the bites from the vermin in the hay to prove it." He shuddered at the memory of that night. "How did you get back so soon?" Guppy considered saying something about the flying saucer that returned him to the city, but he changed his mind. "You'd never believe it if I told you." As Mr. Guppy exited the boarding house, a certain very recognizable peddler's cart was just drawing up in front of it. Seated next to the equally recognizable driver was a slim young man in Badlands garb. The cart halted and the young man jumped down, calling, "Thanks, Kavaress. I'll remember about the belt buckle!" Voice, face and figure belonged to David Lytham, a young actor who was Guppy's fellow boarder. Lytham did a double-take when he spotted Mr. Guppy. "Guppy! When did you get back?" Mr. Guppy gave them both a nod of recognition. "I got a ride back last night," he said flippantly. "And what trouble were you two causing last night? Let's see ... the naïve Badlander finds a cart full of memories from back home, selling for cheap, and his raving draws the bystanders to the cart?" He seemed unaware of the crisis from the night before. "Ho ho!" chortled Lytham. "You missed it! The scoop of the century, Guppy! ...well, as big as the Bahlmis coup, anyway. Riot and assassination!" "Scoop? Of the century?" Guppy looked wildly from Lytham to Kavaress who shrugged his confirmation. "That's what Salter promised me!" He kicked at the stones in the street, further scuffing his shoes. Kavaress looked at Lytham, rolling his eyes. "I think I better be moving on. Oddities don't find themselves, you know." The large man chuckled, picking up the reins. "Take care, Kavaress," Lytham told him. It seemed like Guppy's little tantrum was losing steam. "Riot? Assassination? Was Carlysle involved?" "Carlysle? Oh yeah, they were behind it," said Lytham, nodding. "I actually saw the assassin that got the Cardinal," he went on, rubbing it in just a trifle. "Close as you are to me. He was in disguise, of course..." The frustration over having fame snatched from his battered hands was being replaced by a smirk. Guppy found another potential scoop. He took Lytham by the elbow and started to guide him down Maddox Street. "Did you tell anyone else about this?" he asked eagerly. "We need to get this in the paper right away." Lytham looked regretful. "Hate to disappoint you, old friend, but we had to report to Lord Tremontaine at the hotel—and naturally Salter had a reporter there. They were running off the edition on the backs of menu cards," he recalled. Guppy nodded in admiration. "Salter is the best at this. That's genius—publishing right at the scene. You wouldn't happen to have a copy of it, would you?" Lytham shook his head. "Didn't get a chance, really." It wasn't a long walk to the newspaper's offices. That was one of the reasons Guppy lived at Plum House. (Price and the lack of interrogation from his landlord were the others.) They turned off Maddox Street, and Guppy froze in his tracks. Troops dressed in red and yellow, with cobalt blue trim, were stationed outside the offices. Lagoran. Not Aquilan. Not Maun or Anderon. Not Carlysle either. He looked over at his friend to see if this was another surprise that Lytham neglected to share with him. The young actor was looking just as nonplussed as he was, however. "What are they doing here?" he wondered aloud. "I sure didn't see them anywhere else." Guppy cocked his head to the side and murmured, "Why don't you ask, Badlander?" The words slipped out of his mouth unconsciously. Rather than the usual smirk growing on his face, he was retreating around the corner. "I've had enough soldiers for a lifetime. At least these speak your language ... I hope." "Aw, come on, Guppy, you know I'm not really a Badlander..." Lytham protested, before his sense of drama took over. He still cast an exasperated look over his shoulder at the retreating reporter, but when he moved toward the building again there was the suggestion of a bow-legged swagger to his walk. He was still trying to think of a reasonable excuse for a Badlander to seek out the offices of Aquila Awake! when he came within hailing distance of the soldiers. They gave him no inspiration, standing wooden-faced like a couple of mannequins. At the last moment Lytham settled for removing a bit of paper from his pocket (no way they could see it was a receipt from the tailor at the spaceport), squinting at it, squinting at the number over the office door, shaking his head, and sauntering away again. By a roundabout route he rejoined Mr. Guppy. "Can't make out what they're there for," he said. Guppy nodded. "Mr. Salter said people used to come to the office wielding axes. Now there are troops guarding it. This is odd." "Lagoran troops. Very odd," Lytham agreed. Guppy looked back toward the office, frowning. "You said something about printing at the hotel. Do you think they're still there?" He peeked around the corner, taking one last look at the Lagoran troops. "In any case, that's where the action should be." "Very likely. If nothing else, I can show you where the action was. And if Salter's still there, maybe I can even get paid for last night," Lytham noted with an ironic chuckle. He didn't really believe that. "Watch the neighboring rooftops, though," he advised. "I doubt there are any more lurking assassins out there, but..." Guppy stared at his companion, hoping that Lytham was joking. It was always hard to tell with actors. "But?" he echoed. "Oh, never mind," he continued with a sigh. "What would they want with the lot of us? Unless ... unless my message to Salter and Anderon got intercepted. It was sent through the Lasses, you know." He seemed to straighten with growing self-importance. Then his eyes darted toward the rooftops and he shrank back. "Maybe we should spring for a cab, stay under cover and move faster. Do you have any stanners on you? Salter gave us some for expenses, but Polonius wouldn't let me haggle for a room. He blew almost all of it on a night in a hayloft." Guppy shuddered with memories of the vermin. "Literally," he added in case Lytham decided to misinterpret his words. "Even if I had any money, do you see any cabs in the streets?" Lytham demanded. "They're keeping their heads down, for sure. Nah, you're right, no one's going to be firing crossbows at a couple of cits. It was the nobs they wanted to take out." He'd already started walking in the direction of the Grand Hotel. Guppy frowned at the relatively empty street. "You better be right," he muttered as he hurried after Lytham. "I'm right about this," Lytham assured him. "I helped interrogate one of the assassins, as it happens. They had a short list, and it didn't include any scruffy reporters or out-of-work actors." "Who are you calling scruffy?" Guppy shot back, but the assurance of his friend seemed to relax him a bit. He kicked at some debris in the street. "I'm calling you scruffy," replied Lytham, giving him a friendly nudge in the ribs. "What do you expect, after a night in a hayloft?" he added with a grin. Faking a stumble, Guppy laughed. "So, did you see this list? How many did they get? Did the Carlysles do it themselves, or did they hire out? The chance to have a chat like that with a nob would be..." His dark eyes twinkled with the thought. "Nothing on paper," Lytham explained patiently. "And the one we, er, talked to was no nob. Dirty little rat of a garrotter, hired to take out Decuma Maun. His tough luck that he found himself having to use a sword instead of his strangling cord. He said he was hired on commission by Billie the Blood, but that the nobs behind it all—he didn't say 'Carlysle' but it's an easy guess—were going to use some of their own for certain targets. So far as I know, the only ones they 'got' were poor Lady Tremontaine and the Cardinal." Guppy stared vacantly as he worked to put Lytham's account into his own words. Chances were good that Mr. Salter already had some hack writing the story, but he wanted to be ready. "So how did you catch this guy?" he asked, working to fill in the gaps in the story. "I didn't catch him," Lytham disclaimed. "I think Lord Decuma did it himself, mostly. At least the younger Bahlmis boy was saying something about a swordfight, and Lord Decuma was the one carrying a sword. By the time I came on the scene he was already out of action—the assassin, I mean." "Impressive," commented Guppy, though it couldn't be certain if he was commenting on the action or hearing how casually his chum dropped those names. "Were the Bahlmis and Lord Decuma in on the questioning? And did you get to meet the Regent as well?" "Not to say meet," Lytham demurred. "I saw him in passing, but it wasn't exactly the time or place for formal introductions. Lord Talaren Bahlmis took over the questioning, and Edgar and I helped him." He grinned slyly. "We played 'good cop, bad cop'. Guess who got to be the bad cop." Guppy returned the grin. "Another plum role for you! I hope you remember who got you the job when you're living the high life." He spied a young lady peeping out from between the curtains of a house and tipped an imaginary hat to her. "I'll give you an exclusive interview," Lytham said dryly. The pair were only a few blocks from the Grand Hotel and the streets were still relatively quiet. Occasionally they encountered patrols of soldiers, but these were city troops, not Lagoran's. "Do you want to go in the front way, where Lady Tremontaine was shot, or the back way, where the assassin was captured?" Lytham asked Guppy. The front was where the big news was. Everyone would be mourning the passing of the great lady, and the account would need to be told. Certainly that story was already written, probably by Lady Bella herself. Despite rarely entering a building by the front way, Guppy decided not to bother this time either. "This is your story. Show me your claim to fame," Guppy declared. Lytham accordingly led the way round to where the rear entrance to the hotel gave on to the stableyard. "From what I understand, the assassin was lurking in the stables," he told Guppy, gesturing. "His plan was to hide in Lord Decuma's carriage, but apparently he fell afoul of one of the Lagoran grooms first. Or vice versa. So when Lord Decuma came looking for him—the groom, I mean—this fellow jumped out at him with a sword. The more fool he." Guppy nodded. "Did you see any of that, or did you happen along later?" "No, I'm afraid I wasn't on in that act," Lytham said regretfully. "By the time I came on the scene, they were picking up the pieces." The pair approached the stableyard, and Guppy's head swiveled as he looked for signs of the fight. The ground was thickly covered with a fresh layer of straw. Disassembled carcasses of carriages lay near the edges of the open area. As they passed between a pile of manure and a mound of cushions, Guppy thought he heard a click. Lytham must have heard it too, because he sprang on his housemate and flung both of them to the ground just as something went off with a roar. Whatever the missile was, it whizzed over their heads and out into the street. "Almost forgot about that," gasped Lytham. "Warden was busy too, last night." "Warden." Guppy frowned as he scrambled back to his feet and brushed what he hoped was just dirt and hay off of his clothes. Normally he would have laughed it off, but he had to make a good impression when he met Josh Salter inside the hotel. Guppy had to assume Salter got the story, even though Lytham didn't seem to be aware of it. "Well, I guess we can't just walk in. Now what do we do?" "Well, somebody must be on watch," said Lytham. "They'd hardly leave the entrance unguarded, even if it is booby-trapped. Halloo!" he bellowed with all the force an actor's lungs were capable of. "We're here to see Josh Salter! We're harmless!" A beat. "Mostly!" Guppy nodded in agreement, making sure his hands were visible and away from his body. They may have been covered in scrapes, but his hands did not look as if they could cause any lasting physical harm. Time passed, measured inaccurately by heartbeats, accompanied by the grinding of Guppy's teeth. Suddenly from behind them a crisp voice ordered, "Move those hands atop your head and stand with your legs wide." Guppy slowly and deliberately complied as a man in dark clothing moved forward and began patting his limbs, searching for potential threats. By the guard's clothes and smudged face, he must have been hiding amidst the debris on the ground. Lytham did the same, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he inspected the guard, in turn, for insignia and House colors. Dipping his chin toward the bandolier of throwing knives he still wore, he said, "You can go ahead and take these for the moment, but keep track of 'em, will you? I need 'em for my act, and they'd be hard to replace." "Your act," the guard stated coldly as he removed the knives from Lytham. No insignia or colors were visible on his dark clothing, but his actions betrayed the efficiency of a professional soldier. He pointed at the ground. "Follow those nut shells to the door." The three staggered along a jagged path to the back door of the hotel. As they approached, a guard wearing the colors of the Aquilan forces stood in the doorway. "They say they're here to see Salter, but I found these on one of them." The dark-clothed guard handed the set of throwing knives to the guard at the door. "He said they were 'for his act'." "Care to explain?" the guard asked Lytham and Guppy. "I'm an actor," Lytham told him. "I was performing here at the reception last night ... hence the get-up." He indicated his Badlands garb. "Anything else I got dragooned into later is Not My Fault... I don't suppose Lord Talaren Bahlmis eventually came back here, did he?" The guard's eyes narrowed, inspecting Lytham's costume and Guppy's generic clothing. He seemed convinced by the explanation. "If he did, it wasn't through this door." The guard handed the knives off to a subordinate. "You can retrieve your knives from Commander Cody when you leave." "All right," Lytham acquiesced. Stepping aside to allow the two to pass, the guard said, "Salter is in the back office." He pointed his hand in the general direction. Lytham already knew more or less where the hotel offices were, since he'd reported to Lord Tremontaine in one of them last night. He led the way down the hall. The actor appeared rather sure of himself. Guppy shrugged and followed closely, looking around. The luxury that he heard associated with the Grand Hotel didn't extend to the service corridors. They were plain and functional. The rugs underfoot were elaborate but worn. This was probably their second home after they were no longer suitable for the guest hallways. Hotel staff passed them, going about their regular business. Occasionally the pair passed soldiers dressed either in Aquilan or Tremontaine livery, if Guppy remembered his colors correctly. Nobody appeared to challenge the two. As they passed one of the larger offices, Lytham gestured toward it and commented, "That's where Lord Tremontaine was, the last time I was here. I guess Salter's farther back than that. Have you spotted anyone you know?" Guppy did almost immediately as a door burst open and Lady Bella Rostay came rushing out, a smudge of ink on her comely cheek, her arms full of papers and her dark hair half tumbling down her back. On seeing Mr Guppy, she gave a shriek. "Guppy! Just the man! Come in here at once!" The shriek startled Mr. Guppy, but he quickly recovered himself. "As you wish, Lady Bella," he replied, performing the sketchiest of bows. He turned his head toward Lytham and raised an eyebrow in amusement. With a jerk of his head, he suggested that his friend follow along. He hurried down the hall, eagerly hoping this had to do with his big news story. "Coming!" Lytham, in his turn, shrugged and followed. Where Lady Bella was, Josh Salter might also be. The room was in complete chaos. There was always a buzz when an issue of Aquila Awake! was going to press, but it was nothing like this. Scruffy young boys were running into the room with scrounged sheets of paper in their hands and dashing back out with slightly smudged editions of the paper. Reporters and etchers were uncharacteristically lending a hand with the hotel press and bundling the printed results. Lady Bella was deep in the thick of it, herding the young boys in and out of the room as quickly as possible. Guppy eagerly waded toward her, but before he could speak, a man in the yellow and cobalt blue of Rostay livery pushed past him. He spoke softly to Lady Bella who let out a squeak and ran into the hall. Guppy turned toward Lytham. "And there she goes..." Lytham, meanwhile, was scanning the room, filtering through the pandemonium. His brows puckered. "Salter isn't here," he observed. "You're right," spoke a voice as it passed by Lytham's shoulder. It was the balding etcher, Patterson, who took the information about the Cardinal's assassination. "He was falling asleep on his feet. It took three people to drag him upstairs to a bed." He shook his head at the memory of that sight. "You'll have to talk to Lady Bella or Mr. Adams instead." Guppy's face burned with anger and disbelief. He turned away from Patterson, muttering. "Which of 'em is in charge of finances?" Lytham asked brazenly. "I'm still owed for last night's performance." Patterson let out a walrus-like snort. "Lady Bella might give you some sympathy, but Salter is the one with the purse." He took a second look at Lytham. "Wait. Weren't you the one with the Cardinal story? Remind Salter and he should give you extra for that." Scanning through the papers he found on a table, Guppy continued to mutter to himself. "Yeah, right," Lytham said resignedly. "Well, I guess I'll stop by the office later in the week." He turned to go, then turned back and said to Patterson, "Hey, did you know there's Lagoran guards on the Aquila Awake! offices?" The portly etcher nodded. "One of the lads said as much when they came back in from the streets. I have a feeling we'll be squatting here for a little while longer." Lytham nodded comprehendingly. "Just so you know." Patterson nudged his head toward where Guppy was looking through the papers and shot Lytham a quizzical look. With a roll of his eyes, Patterson stepped over to Guppy's table and slammed his fist down with a loud BANG. Guppy let out a startled yell, dropped into a crouch, and looked around wildly. Eventually noticing the odd stares in his direction, he slowly straightened back up. "What the hell did you do that for?" he growled at Patterson. Stepping back, Patterson held up his hands. "Hey ... easy ... relax." He spoke in a soothing, defensive tone. "What's wrong with you?" "Maybe if they printed my article, you'd know," Guppy spat, thrusting his finger at the papers on the table. "I risk my life to warn Aquila of the invasion and nobody seems to notice. Fine." Guppy spun on his heel and walked out the door. "He's been upstaged," Lytham explained to Patterson, then added with a sympathetic grimace, "It hurts. Go easy on him for a while." He walked out into the hall after his housemate, only to be unexpectedly pounced on by a trio of young women, still rather scantily dressed in showgirl-style pseudo-Badlands garb. "Davey!" one of them squeaked. "It is you!" "We thought you must be dead..." "...going out there the way you did!" "Did you see any soldiers?" "We haven't dared set foot outside the hotel!" "Is the city in ruins?" "Of course not, you silly girls!" Lytham responded, half laughing, half exasperated. "Do you mean to tell me you've been cowering in here all night and on into the morning?" Mollie, the tallest of the trio, pouted. "You couldn't expect us to go home by ourselves—" "—and we couldn't find anyone to escort us!" protested Annabelle. "Or get a cab," pointed out Suzy. "Even if we had the money, which we don't." "Things are tough all over," said Lytham. "Well, look. I have some stuff to collect from the green room—and maybe change out of these clothes..." Lytham also had not had a chance to doff his Badlands costume from the previous night. "Then I can walk you home, if you want." Meanwhile he was strolling back toward the public areas of the hotel, the chorus girls trailing behind him.
"Hey, Slim!" Edgar grinned, and smiled even broader at the young ladies. Miles tried not to stare, but it was difficult considering that no other women that he'd seen on Aquila wore such short skirts as these three did. The second Holly saw the handsome man she met at Clover's mansion, her mood instantly improved. "Who knows?" she asked with flirtatious smile. "Nice to see you again, Lytham." "Likewise, Miss Bahlmis," he replied with a theatrical bow. "May I also present Mollie, Suzy, and Annabelle?" He indicated the three showgirls. "Hello." Holly smiled at the girls. "I'm Holly and these are my brothers Edgar and Miles." Edgar bowed. Miles just continued staring, until elbowed in the side by his brother. "Pleased to meet you," said Mollie. "Likewise," said Suzy. "Charmed, I'm sure," said Annabelle. All three of them curtsied, and Annabelle added a suggestive wink at Miles. Miles blushed from the collar of his shirt to the part of his hair and stammered, "Pleased ... yes ... pleasure to ... meet ... all of you." All three of the girls giggled. Holly then moved her glance back to Lytham. "Miss Bahlmis? I thought we were on a first-name basis," she said. "Holly, then," the young actor said brazenly. Mollie, Suzy, and Annabelle stared at him, their expressions a mixture of astonishment that he should be on a first-name basis with a young lady of one of the noble houses, and all too obvious speculation on what he might have done to earn himself the privilege. Holly smiled, both pleased with Lytham's reply and amused by the girls’ reaction. "Where are you off to, Lytham?" Edgar asked. "Nowhere in particular," Lytham replied. "That is, until the girls here asked me to walk them home. They seem to think it's still dangerous out there." He waved vaguely toward the hotel doors. "Streets seemed calm when we rode here, but it's probably safer to move in a larger group," Holly agreed with a gentle nod. "As for us, we're here to check on Lady Bahlmis and see if she's well. However, after that we plan to use occasion and finally see the city. We sure could use a company of someone who knows his ways around here," she offered. "That is if you aren't in a hurry. I'm sure we can squeeze all of you into that carriage and give you a lift home," Edgar offered. Miles hoped they'd accept. The idea of being squeezed in next to any one of the three young ladies seemed like a great idea to him. "We're in no rush," Lytham assured Edgar. "I still have to pick up some stuff from the green room, and change clothes. I can't promise that where we live is particularly scenic, mind you," he warned them all. "Somehow, I cannot imagine you living in a boring place. Seeing it should be interesting," Holly replied. "Well, it's not exactly boring," Lytham conceded, "but it's not exactly, um, fashionable, either." "Taking into account that before I came here I studied in Torun on Kopernik's Moon, which by Aquila's standards is a true sin city, I suspect I can take pretty much everything this planet has to offer," Holly said with a roguish smile. "Oh, well then," Lytham responded with a laugh in his voice. "It's obviously more than a sightseeing tour you want. Now's not really the time for it, but..." His glance took in Holly's brothers too, as he offered, "A couple of nights from now, when we're sure things are settled down, I know where the best clubs are. Not the expensive gentlemen's clubs," he clarified. "I'm talking about which ones have the best music." "Sounds like I should look around for some loose-fitting skirts," Holly replied with satisfaction in her voice. "Good for dancing in, you mean? Oh, yeah." Lytham nodded. Edgar watched his sister in action, admiring, perhaps for the first time, how grown-up she had become. It was a bit disconcerting, but she definitely could handle herself in a conversation. "I'm sure that shouldn't be a problem, as long as you are properly chaperoned..." Edgar teased Holly. "And as for the tour of the city, perhaps at a later date. I promised Father I'd be back quickly with the news, so I do not think we'll be able to do too much sightseeing today." Lytham nodded. "Give Aquila a few days to settle down and get ready for company," he advised. Miles, however, didn't notice anything except the scantily clad dancers. They had terrific legs. Edgar shook his head when he noticed where his brother's attention was focused. "We really should search out Aunt Rosalor... Do you have any idea where she might be?" Edgar addressed that to Lytham, noticing that the cadet who had been leading them seemed to have gone on without them when they stopped to chat. "Lady Bahlmis? I expect she's somewhere in the offices back there ... you remember, from when we went to talk to Lord Tremontaine. That is, unless they put her to bed like they did Josh Salter." Edgar and Miles both nodded at the memories. Miles wondered if the paper had used that copy of the etching of the half-naked woman in the river, and if not, whether anyone would notice if it went missing... "C'mon Holly, Miles. Let's go find her so we can assure Father of her whereabouts." Edgar motioned for his siblings to continue through the hallway. Then he turned back to Lytham. "Shall we meet you in the green room when we’re finished?" "Sure. You remember where it is? Where I went to pick up my knives just before we went looking for the Cardinal." Edgar nodded. "Yes, I believe I can find my way there again." He grinned and executed a fairly decent bow toward the performers—"Ladies, until then?"—before turning to follow his siblings down the hallway. "See you later." Holly smiled, looking at Lytham. Then she followed her brothers.
"Come in," they heard Rosalor's voice from within. The guard opened the door and gestured to them to enter. Inside, Lucien was bent over the detailed map of the city from which he had been working most of the night. With each new dispatch he had made changes, issued orders. From the look of the map now, order was indeed being restored to Aquila. He looked up at the young people, exhaustion etched into his face, but actually smiled. "You are safe, then... Come, tell me what you know." "Sir," Edgar bowed, "we have just come from the Palacio. We were concerned for Aunt Rosalor." Edgar glanced at the older woman and gave her an apologetic smile. "But we can report that the streets seem quiet, and order appears to have been restored between there and here." Rosalor returned his smile, though she too looked weary. "It was good of you to come," she said. "I should be able to return to Bahlmis House soon. Is the rest of the family safe? Have you seen Talaren?" "Both Mom and Dad are okay. They are with Aunt Iolanthe and her children in the Palacio," Holly replied calmly. "Though I'm afraid we haven't seen Uncle Talaren since we left Bahlmis Manor yesterday." Rosalor sighed, but said, "I really didn't expect anything else. But Ofelia won't be happy." She grimaced. "She'd better get used to it." Miles, unconcerned with protocol, wandered over to look at the map. "What do all the colors mean?" "Miles, leave it alone," Holly muttered as if her words could really stop her baby brother. She wasn't a protocol expert, but she well knew one shouldn't touch things if unasked. Lucien seemed to welcome Miles's interest. "These are areas that were under control of the ... rebels, but have been pacified sufficiently that we feel they are back under legitimate control. These are areas which have not seen trouble, but are close enough to it for us to station additional men as a safeguard. And these ... are the lingering pockets of resistance." He paused, then allowed himself a personal question. "Have any of you seen Alexander? I just received word that Renata and Harry are safe, as are Giulian Anderon, the Windhaven boys, and ... Decuma Maun. But I have not heard yet from Alexander..." Something in his eyes transmitted the fact that he knew of Lilly's death, but he was not going to address that now. Time enough later to mourn ... to regret.... Holly wished she could tell Lord Tremontaine that Alex was safe and sound. Unfortunately that wasn't in her power. "I'm sorry, we haven't seen him," Holly said with sadness, shaking her head. Miles immediately comprehended the distribution of the colors; it was not as good as a vid-screen for tracking, but it accomplished the same thing. It looked like the "good guys" were winning and that was great. It meant they wouldn't have to be locked inside and could do more exploring. He wasn't paying much attention to the rest of the conversation, focusing as he was on the distribution of colors. "Hey, Edgar. Didn't your friend say he lived over here?" Miles pointed at the map. "Looks like there might still be some rebels around that part." "Which friend is this?" asked Rosalor. Lucien, too, looked instantly alert. Edgar coughed. "He's an acquaintance, really. Slim ... uh ... David Lytham. He's an ... actor. He performed here last night, at the reception. He was with me when we discovered the Cardinal. He and some of his ... associates ... are waiting for us to provide them an escort to their place of residence." "Oh ... an actor." There was a wealth of meaning in Rosalor's tone. "Yes, well ... the rents are notably lower in that district." Edgar nodded, sadly. "I wouldn't suppose this type of an economy pays entertainers very well...." Miles looked up from the map with mild interest, piping in, "Yeah, not like our vid-actors." "I suspect that even in the wider galaxy, that only applies to the successful vid-actors," Rosalor opined. "And that there will always be more aspirants than there are positions for them. Sad but true." "While we are out, is there anywhere you'd like us to go? Messages you need delivered? Or ... somewhere where your son Alex might have gone to take refuge?" Edgar asked both Rosalor and Lucien, but of course the latter question was directed to Lucien. Lucien thought for a moment. "Perhaps the University ... or he may have started to make his way to the vineyard, outside of the city... If that is the case, they will send me word when he arrives." He looked at Edgar. "Your willingness is greatly appreciated, but I do not wish you to endanger yourselves. Any of you. I will pursue this." His tone was firm, determined. "We will keep our eyes and ears open, Sir," Edgar stated, "and if we hear anything of his movements we will send word to you here." Then he asked again, "Do you have anything you would like us to convey to anyone?" "If you're going by Bahlmis House, you might let Nestor know I'll be home soon," said Rosalor. "Of course," Edgar agreed. Rosalor scanned the young faces. "You came in a carriage?" she asked. "With a driver?" "We took one from manor's stable," replied Holly, who was silently listening to the talk. "I drove," she said simply. Rosalor looked dubious. "If you're going into that sector, I really think we should send someone with you," she said, glancing in Lucien's direction. "As a guide, if nothing else. Your," just the slightest pause, "friend may be able to guide you to his place of residence, but what about getting back? And that's still an unsettled part of the city." Holly didn't like the idea of someone going with them. After all, it was Ed, Miles and her trip. "Lytham can draw us a map of how to get back to home, right Ed?" she asked, hoping for her brother's support. Edgar nodded but before he could respond that he thought they'd be fine on their own, his opinion was overridden by Lord Tremontaine's response to his sister. "No, no, Lady Bahlmis is quite correct," Lucien said. "A map is only useful as far as giving you a route. It will not protect you in the event of further trouble." He scrawled something on a piece of paper in his bold, looping handwriting. "While things are far more under control than they were a few hours ago, I am far from ready to let even such able young people as yourselves venture out alone." He went to the door and spoke to a guard, who nodded and left. "Lieutenant Velasco will see you safely to your destinations. He is claiming your carriage now." Holly sighed helplessly. Rosalor, on the other hand, looked decidedly relieved. "Very well. If that's all, are we free to go?" Holly asked. Miles looked at his sister in her distress and grinned. "Well, he probably drives better than you." "Miles!" Edgar admonished, though he also chuckled. "Yeah?" Miles snickered, and began, "And we know she drives better..." Edgar made a fist and glared at his grinning brother who clamped his mouth shut but couldn't help his snorting chortle. "Yes, go ahead," Rosalor said hurriedly before a scuffle could break out. She resisted the impulse to tell them to be careful. Hearing the dismissal in his great-aunt's voice, Edgar turned toward her and sketched a passable bow in both her direction and Lord Tremontaine’s. "Then we will be off." "Thank you, Aunt," Holly said. "Lord Tremontaine." She nodded to the man. Then she turned on her heel and left the room. Miles followed Holly quickly, without so much as a farewell, muttering indignantly to Holly as they went, "Babysitter, that's what he is. They don't think we can take care of ourselves. We got here okay, didn't we? We could get back just as well." Holly didn't reply, but the look on her face was an evident sign she was totally agreeing with her baby brother at the moment. She wondered if they would still have given a "guard" to Edgar and Miles if she had stayed home. Was it her fault? Edgar just ignored him and tried to hurry his siblings along. Holly for one didn't need to be hurried up. She wanted to leave the hotel as soon as possible. "This way," Ed directed as he and his siblings left the conference room. He led them through some halls, stopping to get his bearings a few times before proceeding to the underside of the hotel. They could hear the kitchens up ahead and he knew he was close. He had come this way with Lytham from the stables before going to check on the Cardinal. With only a little back-tracking, he managed to find the green room where the actors or singers gathered before a performance. He tapped lightly on the door before pushing it open. "Come," was the muffled reply from inside. As an actor, David Lytham was a quick-change artist. Gone was the (by now) grimy Badlands outfit, apart from the boots and belt, and the young man now wore ordinary street clothes. He'd also washed his face and combed his hair, and had a battered backpack over one shoulder. Mollie, Suzy and Annabelle had also changed out of their showgirl garb into skirts and blouses. Miles looked slightly disappointed at the new garb the girls were wearing, but smiled at them all the same. All three girls smiled brightly back at him. Holly smiled seeing Lytham, who seemed even more handsome then before. "Ready to go?" queried Lytham, with a grin. "If you're ready, we certainly are," Edgar stated. "But we'll have a driver..." Miles complained. "Aunt Rosalor insisted. Lieutenant ... Bosco? Something like that." "I think they said Velasco," Edgar corrected. "He's gone to fetch the carriage." "He'll probably bring it round to the front entrance," guessed Lytham. "Just as well. I have to get my knives back from the guards. Otherwise it'd be quicker to go straight out to the stables from here ... you remember," he said to Edgar. Edgar nodded. "Yeah..." "You've got knives?" Holly asked with an interest in her voice. "Are you a knifer?" "A what?" Miles turned and looked at Lytham curiously. "Throwing knives," explained Lytham. "Ever seen a knife-throwing act?" He winked at Holly. "Want to be my lovely assistant sometime?" Mollie elbowed him in the ribs. "That's my job, Davey!" Holly chuckled. "I've seen one on some old holo-vid, years ago. Though I'm sure it's much more exciting live." "Oh yeah, it is." Mollie smirked. "He almost never misses." "Oh!" Miles blinked. "And you wanna be his assistant?" Edgar just rolled his eyes. "C'mon, let’s go." As they headed back toward the hotel lobby, Lytham asked Edgar, "How big is your carriage, anyway? Seven people's going to be kind of a squeeze." Edgar frowned, trying to judge the size. "I believe six passengers would fit ... snugly ... and one of us can always ride up top with the driver if need be." "Comfy," remarked Annabelle, with a teasing, sidelong look at Miles. Miles blushed, though he grinned back at Annabelle. Suzy giggled and asked, "Is the driver cute?" Their path took them toward an intersection with another, slightly wider hallway. A polished brass sign indicated that the restaurant and lounge could be found there. It also seemed to be playing host to a sporadic thumping noise. Miles, of course, had to check out the noise and veered off to take a peek. "Miles...!" Ed called after his youngest sibling. Miles, however, was looking at the man on the other side of the doorway, and addressed him, "Hey. Are you okay?" The man was of average height, though his clothes were poorly tailored and hung loosely on his frame. His head was bent, and his dark, wavy hair obscured his face. "I told 'em. I told 'em. Buggrit," he was muttering to himself, punctuating the sentence with a kick to the painted wooden baseboard. There were several black scuffs there from previous kicks. He turned at the sound of the young voice. "Huh?" He seemed surprised and slightly confused. A moment later he heard a more familiar voice as Lytham also peered around the corner and said, "Hey, Guppy." "Guppy?" Edgar said sotto voce and shot a questioning look first to Holly and then the three girls. "Is that a name?" Holly looked surprised too. "Sounds more like a nickname to me," she whispered back. "Guppy?" Miles chortled, not trying in the least to be quiet about the odd name. "Like a ... fish?" Miles received the briefest look of disgust before the man in question turned toward the voice he recognized. Resting his shoulder against the wall, he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Lytham, are you hanging around with offworlders now?" he drawled. Lytham shrugged. "Why not? They offered me a ride home. Besides, this is Edgar Bahlmis, my partner in—" He stopped just short of saying "crime" and amended it to, "—last night's activities. His sister Holly, his brother Miles... This is Mr. Guppy, folks. He works for Aquila Awake! And yeah, that's his name, can't help the one you're born with, can you?" Guppy nodded his head in response. "Bahlmis, you say? How interesting to meet you." He unfolded his arms and extended a limp hand in the direction of the eldest. Bahlmis had done him well in the past, he thought. His last big break was discovering Romeo Acciaio's affair with a Bahlmis gardener. His dark eyes smiled at the thought. Holly looked at Guppy with mistrust in her eyes. She didn't like the guy. He seemed kind of sleazy to her, like an old uncle who looks at his niece for a bit too long. Edgar didn't notice Holly's look, but he hesitated slightly in taking the limp hand extended toward him. He didn't much like limp-handed handshakes. He glanced at Lytham for just a moment, and judging that he seemed to trust this man and considered him a friend, he completed the gesture, meeting Guppy's hand and giving it a shake. "Edgar Bahlmis, at your service." Edgar tried for a friendly smile. Guppy improved his grasp and tried to return the smile in kind. "Edgar, you say? Not Lord Edgar or anything like that? Are you related to the Lady of the House?" "Uh ... yes. Still not used to this 'Lord and Lady' thing. Lady Rosalor Bahlmis is my great-aunt," Edgar answered with a slight rise in color. "But honestly, Ed is fine." Turning toward the distrustful lady, Guppy tried to involve her as well. "Miss Holly, have you been on Aquila long? How do you like it here?" "It's ... different than I expected," Holly replied cautiously. "Yeah, different!" Miles chimed in, grinning at his sister. "At least Ed and I can wear pants.... And Holly's real proud of her legs, too. You should see her in those short-shorts she wears back on Kuiper Station." "Miles!" Holly glared at her younger brother, blushing with embarrassment. Guppy took advantage of that glare, tilting his head to see those legs. He wondered how they compared to that girl back in the Badlands. This pair would definitely be more exotic. When attention turned back to him, he shook his head, letting the longish hair fall in his face again. "Sorry. It's been a long couple of days. I only got back to the city early this morning." "Got back this morning? Then you missed all the excitement," Miles exclaimed, completely ignoring his sister. Edgar nodded, in agreement and with a bit of a shiver. "It was quite a night, right Slim?" "Yeah, I was telling him that on the way here," Lytham confirmed. "Matter of fact, that's one reason we came here in the first place ... so he could see the scene of the action. Well, and report in to Salter." With a grumble and a glance toward the scuffed baseboard, Guppy said, "Unfortunately, Salter's indisposed and there's not much to see here except a bunch of soldiers marching around. I guess there's little sense in me hanging around here. Apparently escaping an invading army, warning the Regent, and saving a small town in the Badlands doesn't mean that much in the big city." He looked at the young ladies with Lytham as he talked, purposely gesturing with his scraped and battered hands. "So what are you folks planning to do?" Miles seemed impressed. "Wow, you were out in the badlands? You didn't happen to see that girl swimming across the river..." Edgar's eyes widened, recalling the etching. "Miles..." he warned. "...She was bare-assed naked!" Miles looked at Edgar and frowned. "What?" Edgar shook his head. Mollie, Suzy and Annabelle tittered. Just then a dark-haired young man in the uniform of the City Guard strode up to them. "Mr. Bahlmis?" he addressed Edgar. "I am Lieutenant Velasco. Your carriage is waiting." Holly resisted an urge to inform Lieutenant Velasco that the carriage was as much hers as Edgar's, especially since she was driving it. Guppy seemed to twitch at the approach of the guard and shuffled his position to keep the uniform out of his vision. That brought him closer to the youngest Bahlmis. "Actually she was wearing a light shift, but it was still a sight," he murmured. "She lacked inhibitions that some of these city girls have." What he said was true to a point, and the young woman to whom he owed his life would never know. Shooting a sly grin at Miles, he turned his attention to Edgar, hoping he could snag a free ride home. Miles grinned. "I should get out of the city, then..." "That actually might be a good idea, Miles. Maybe then you would stop embarrassing all of us," Holly drily commented. Then Miles looked at the three chorus girls and sighed, "Well, then again, maybe not..." Edgar ignored the muted conversation between his brother and the reporter. He didn't even want to guess what they were discussing, but he had a good idea by the way Miles kept ogling the dancers. "Well then!" Edgar nodded, in response to the soldier, and then turned toward those accompanying him. "Shall we be off?" He gestured grandly toward the egress. Miles looked at Guppy. "I'm sure he means, you, too ... if you'd like a ride." "I still need to look up Commander Cody and get my knives back," said Lytham. "If you want, Lytham, I can go with you," Holly offered. The actor favored her with a glinting smile. "To make sure the Lieutenant here doesn't drive off without me? That's kind." Lieutenant Velasco scowled. He had heavy dark eyebrows and a swarthy complexion, so his scowl was fairly impressive. Lytham ignored it, however, and went on, "But the guard post is right by the entrance, I noticed, so it should be on our way." "In that case, let's go," Holly said with a smile. Lytham bowed and offered her his arm. With a charming smile, Holly accepted it. Velasco, still scowling, led the way toward the hotel's main entrance. Edgar wasn't sure what to do with the three girls since their escort seemed to have left them for Holly, but watching Lytham offer his arm to his sister, he figured he might as well do the same for at least one of the girls. Mollie, the most outspoken of the trio, was not slow in taking up the offer, smiling brightly at Edgar. Miles, watching his brother, jumped in to offer his arm to another, which left the third for Guppy. Annabelle promptly attached herself to Miles. Suzy, left with a scruffy reporter rather than a rich outworlder, looked resigned. Shrugging almost apologetically, Guppy crooked his arm for the third girl and followed the group, planning to stay as distant from the guard as possible. As he walked, he chewed on his lower lip, trying to think of something light to say to his reluctant companion. As it turned out, reclaiming the knives from the guard commander did not take Lytham much time. He bundled the bandolier into his pack rather than slinging it across his body—which would have looked odd with his usual street clothes. It seemed to relax the guard a bit, too. The Bahlmis carriage was waiting at the foot of the hotel steps, as promised, attended by one of the hotel grooms. Lieutenant Velasco climbed up on the box and took up the reins, while the groom ran round to open the carriage door. Lytham peered inside. "Comfy," he remarked to Holly, then asked, "Who gets to sit up next to the Lieutenant? We might fit seven of us in here, but eight is pushing it." Edgar glanced around the group and answered, "Obviously the fems ... uh ... ladies ... have to ride in the carriage." He offered to hand Mollie up into the carriage. "Why don't you ladies all climb in and then we see how much room there is? Miles, mimicking his brother once again, offered Annabelle help in, and then spoke up, "Well, I'm not riding up top!" And he scurried up the step and into the carriage after her, sitting himself in the middle between Mollie and Annabelle, with a wide grin on his face. Edgar snorted and shook his head. Holly glanced at her baby brother with disappointment in her eyes. Of all passengers, Miles, being the youngest of the crowd, should be the one sitting on the coachman's seat. Then she looked at Lytham with regret. She really liked the idea of sitting next to him in the coach. However something was telling her that putting Ed on the coachman's seat would end badly. She sighed. "On our way here, I sat on the coachman's seat and I survived. I can do it again." "No, no. We can't have that," Guppy said, looking over at Holly. "I was the last to join the party. This is the least I can do." It was a sacrifice he would take, hoping it would pay off in the future. "Thank you for offering!" Edgar replied, smiling at Guppy. He had really not been looking forward to sitting up with the sour looking Velasco. He was sure that conversation with the Lieutenant would be sketchy if any at all, and he really wanted to ask Lytham more questions about Aquila. Guppy helped Suzy climb inside the carriage, quietly inquiring, "Where are we bringing you ladies?" "We're all at Miz Lillian's boardinghouse, about halfway round the Square from you," answered Suzy. Lytham peered into the coach again as Suzy sat down. "Let's see. Edgar, why don't you get in next, then I'll hand Holly in, and then, my lady," he smiled at Holly, "I'll sit at your feet." Holly chuckled quietly. "Yes, that might work..." Edgar nodded. He climbed in and sat facing Miles, who looked like he couldn't be happier, sandwiched between Mollie and Annabelle. He reached a hand to his sister, to help her in. "Holly?" Holly took Edgar's hand and with his help climbed up into the carriage. "Thanks, Ed," she said. Edgar then spoke to Lytham. "Though it might be difficult for you to give us a 'guided tour' if you can't see where we're going, sitting on the floor." He pointedly looked at Miles. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't be able to appreciate a guided tour if I'm sitting on the floor." Miles pointedly glared back at his brother. Then Miles gave an exaggerated sigh, "But I suppose you're skinny enough, we could squeeze four of us in this seat." And he pressed against Mollie, offering more room for Annabelle to move over, and leaving barely enough room for Lytham to get half a seat. Lytham waved away the suggestion. "I can see out all right from the floor, really. Anyway, you can get Guppy to call down to us what we're passing. He's a reporter, he goes all over. Of course, another alternative would be for you to sit in my lap," he added, with a wink at Holly. He was obviously trying to see how much he could get away with. "How could I refuse such a generous offer?" Holly asked with an impish smile, and before Lytham had a chance to react, she stood up from the bench, making him a place. Edgar shrugged. Lytham didn't need any more encouragement. He deftly inserted himself between Holly and the seat, then framed her waist with his hands, drawing her down. Holly embraced Lytham with one hand and comfortably settled down on his lap. He slipped his arms around her waist, holding her securely. "There. A nice fit," he chuckled. As dark eyebrows climbed into Guppy's overgrown wavy hair, he shot a quick grin toward Lytham. He'd want the full story later. The actor winked at him. Miles, however, got an impish look to his own face and addressed both girls to either side of him. "Hey, if either of you fems would want to sit on my lap, then that Fish there won't have to sit with the sergeant." "His name is Guppy, and the driver is a lieutenant," Edgar corrected out of habit. "I think we're fine," Mollie said serenely. Guppy didn't react to the exchange, moving instead toward the coachman's seat. "Patience," he seemed to murmur to the horses. Once Guppy was seated, Lytham caroled, "Hangover Square, good sir!" Lieutenant Velasco scowled more deeply, but started the carriage moving. The carriage rolled out of the hotel's courtyard, the horses' hooves ringing loudly on the flagstones. The main road was smooth in comparison, but as they headed toward the seedier side of town, potholes and debris in the street made the going rougher, and the passengers found themselves jostled about quite a bit; much to Miles' enjoyment, being sandwiched between the two dancers. Edgar, however, grimaced at each jolt, wishing once again for the smooth ride of a hovercar, and when one of the horses raised its tail and let out a particularly nasty smell, Edgar gagged, trying desperately not to be sick. Lytham didn't seem to notice it particularly, although he might, like Miles, simply have been distracted by the combined effect of the vibrations and having an attractive young female in his lap. "Hold on tight," he chuckled to Holly, suiting the action to the word. Holly, who was totally absorbed by her handsome companion, smiled and embraced Lytham a bit tighter. And that saved her from falling down on the floor when one of the carriage's wheels jumped up on a cobblestone. If there was any conversation in the carriage, it was hard for Guppy to hear. Carriages were intended to be private. Those up in the driver's seat, as he was with Lieutenant Velasco, could only hear an occasional raised voice, either intentional or not. Knowing Lytham, Guppy assumed he was keeping the nobs entertained with his common person's tour of Aquila. Several times he considered attempting to make small talk with the guard but decided against it. Instead he held on and enjoyed the view. And in fact Guppy had a much better view than anyone inside the crowded carriage. Lytham managed to point out a few buildings of note, but no one could get a very good look at them through the carriage windows as they rumbled past. Finally the actor said, "This is no way to see Aquila anyhow. If you want to go where the action is, you need to go out some night, hit the clubs. Meet the fun people." "Don't even think I could forget about your promise," Holly said with a chuckle. "Once they clean the streets, you're showing us all the hottest spots in the city." Lytham reflected that there was at least one hot spot he didn't intend to show to Holly; he liked her too much. Her brothers? Well, maybe sometime. But right now... "Shall we make it a firm date, then?" he asked. "How about, say, three nights from now? We'll find a place for dinner and then go club-hopping. If something happens in the meantime that makes it not look like a good idea, we can always cancel, but..." He glanced around to see if the others agreed. "Sounds like a great idea!" Edgar responded to Lytham ... and as the coach bounced again out of a pothole added, "As long as we walk!" The actor laughed. "No problem. Most of these places are within easy walking distance of each other." Miles piped up, "Mollie? Annabelle? You'll be going, too, won't you?" Annabelle fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Do we get an invitation?" Mollie looked over at Lytham. "What about it, Davey?" Suzy demanded, "Am I included?" "More the merrier, as far as I'm concerned," Lytham answered with a grin. "I've got my dancing partner." He squeezed Holly briefly around the waist to be sure she knew he meant her. "And I have mine," Holly said with pleasure. "Miles, I'm not sure if you're old enough," Edgar commented. "Why shouldn't he be?" Lytham looked puzzled. "Miles is under-age," Holly explained. "Would they let him in to a club?" "Under what age?" Lytham demanded. He looked over at Miles. "How old are you?" Miles glared at his brother. He crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to answer. Ed answered for him, "He's fifteen." "That's old enough," stated Lytham. "I've known people married at fifteen. Done their schooling, holding down jobs... They won't let you be Duke of Aquila at fifteen, but that's not what you want to do, is it?" He shrugged. "All the management cares about is that you pay for your drinks and don't bust up the place." Miles grinned triumphantly. "There you, go Ed!" "What? You want to get married and get a job?" Edgar snorted. Miles ignored him and turning from one lady to another, including Suzy this time, and offered the invitation again. "Would you like to come along? I'll pay for the drinks!" "With Dad's money, no doubt!" Edgar added. Lytham chuckled. "Club management won't care about that, either. Happens all the time." Suzy kicked him lightly in the ankle and turned a smile on Miles. "We'd love to come," she told him. Guppy smiled and seemed to relax as the carriage turned onto Hanover Street. There was a slightly shabby feel to the area. Theaters and assembly rooms were once used by the upper classes but as they moved on to something newer and more fashionable, these places now entertained the working people of Aquila. "The three giggling beauties are staying at Miz Lillian's boardinghouse. That's the pretty one about three-quarters of the way around the Square, near Marylebone Lane," he instructed Lt. Velasco. Velasco barely acknowledged these instructions, but made the turns at the proper corners. Lytham peered around Holly and out the window before announcing, "Here's Miz Lillian's, ladies!" Miles looked disappointed as the dancers' boarding house came into view. Mollie patted him on the shoulder as Annabelle, who was closest, opened the door of the carriage. "We'll see you in a few," she reminded him. "Be good now!" Suzy admonished with a wink as she squeezed past him out of the carriage. Annabelle, from the pavement, blew him a kiss. "See you, girls," Holly said to their companions for goodbye. Guppy waved to the girls as well, but they seemed to have forgotten he was there. "Next stop, Plum House!" said Lytham. Despite the fact that there was now plenty of room in the carriage, he made no move to shift Holly off his lap. Holly seemed satisfied with her current place on Lytham's lap and had no intention of changing it. "Right-O!" Guppy responded, attempting to mirror the enthusiasm in Lytham's voice. The reporter turned to Lieutenant Velasco again. "Plum House is the large house over on the eastern side of the square." He groaned. "Miss Amity will be expecting to see our rent on time if she catches us arriving in a nice coach like this one." "Maybe you should give it her, then," commented the Lieutenant with a slight, ironic smile. He urged the horses to a trot. A minute or two later they drew up in front of Plum House. "Well, here we are," Lytham said with a trace of regret. "Thank you all very much for the ride. And I'll see you again three nights from now at... Where shall we meet? I don't think we'll want to trek all the way out to Bahlmis House and back. Oh, I know. Have your coachman drop you off at the Amoretto Fountain around seven o'clock. It's rather traditional," he explained. Holly reluctantly got up from Lytham's lap. "We'll be there," she promised with a smile. "What she said," Miles gave by way of answer. Edgar smiled and offered to shake David's hand. "No problem, Slim ... and I'm looking forward to this!" He thought it would be an interesting footnote to his dissertation if anything. Lytham gripped Edgar's hand briefly and firmly. "So am I!" Guppy had already climbed down from the driver's seat. He opened the door and jerked his head at Lytham, biting back the improper comments that came to mind. "Thank you for allowing me to share the ride," he offered. Lytham jumped down from the carriage and joined Guppy on the pavement. Miles shrugged and waved to the two departing Plum House tenants. Edgar waved, as well. "You are welcome." Noticing the curious gazes from the porch he grinned and yelled louder, "It was the least we could do for two such heroes!" "See you in three days!" Holly smiled to Lytham, waving for goodbye. Lytham chuckled as he headed up the porch steps. Guppy had a puzzled look on his face, but he shrugged and followed Lytham. |
